Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. I will also forewarn that I absolutely love quotes and collect them like crazy from all over, including but not limited to movies, books, plays, conversations and anywhere else. I will incorporate quotes in this story and will do my best to credit them at the end of each chapter. However, I am human and do make mistakes, and therefore I would appreciate greatly if someone would notify me if I misquote or forget to credit someone. In some instances, I do not know where/who the quote came from and will credit them as "unknown". If anyone does know where they come from I would greatly appreciate hearing from them.
Author's Note: This story is, above all, a romance story. I have read the latest installment of Harry Potter (Half Blood Prince) and will try to incorporate as much as I can into this fiction. However, I'm not great at action sequences and angst, so don't be surprised if I neglect to add some of the more intricate parts of the book-plot into this story. Example, Dumbledore is still dead, but the trio will return to school for their seventh year, McGonagall is the new headmistress but the horocrux thing probably won't make a huge appearance in this. Thank you and enjoy!
Chapter Four: Credo nos in fluctu eodem esse (I think we're on the same wavelength)
In a world of nonsense, everything something is, it isn't, everything it would be wouldn't, and everything it wasn't, was.
Unknown
"So this is it."
Draco, who had kept a good ten feet of distance between himself and Hermione, stopped suddenly in the doorway, halted by her stationary form.
"Yes, yes, here it is. Do you think you'll be going in any time soon Granger?" Draco grunted stoically, obviously not as impressed with the Heads common room as Hermione seemed to be. She moved aside wordlessly, determined not to let Draco's indifference bring her down. He may have been used to the elegance that the Heads common room offered, but it was a far cry from anything Hermione had ever seen. Sure it was simply furnished—with only a few chairs, a sofa, one coffee table and a few end tables—but to Hermione, it was absolutely beautiful. All the furniture looked as if it had been plucked from some antebellum living room and the pictures on the wall were of all the preceding Heads, dating back to the very first pair—a pedantic looking duo with stiff features and even stiffer-looking clothes. While the rest of the Head students smiled prettily from their frames, whispering and joking with their pair, the primary pair sat with their backs to eachother, noses high in the air.
"Harry would love this," Hermione breathed softly, catching sight of one of the more recent pictures. It showed Lily Evans and James Potter, whispering secretly amongst themselves. Every now and then, Lily would toss her head back and laugh, her green eyes shining brightly. Hermione could picture Harry's face when he saw them together—visible proof of his parent's love. Draco turned and looked, rolling his eyes dramatically.
"Oh hell Granger—as if sharing a common room with you isn't bad enough. There's no way in the seven circles of hell that I'm going to tolerate Potty and the Weasel-kids running around where I'm trying to work." Hermione opened her mouth to argue but snapped it immediately. He did have a point. As much as she hated to admit it, it was his common room too—the place where he would have to work. She knew she would hardly be able to study with his friends around.
"Fine, but you can't have any of your followers hanging around here either," Hermione confirmed sharply. She shuddered at the thought of Crabbe and Goyle devastating the beautiful furniture. To Hermione's surprise, Draco shrugged indifferently, plopping down on the sofa and stretching out.
"No worries there," he assured her tiredly, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. Hermione regarded him cautiously, making sure that she had covered all loopholes.
"That means no Crabbe or Goyle," Hermione tested, watching Draco for a reaction. He didn't even bat an eye.
"Okay," he said mildly. Hermione remained skeptical.
"That means no Pansy or anyone else you can convince to hang around you either." Draco sighed heavily, sitting up and staring uninterestedly at Hermione.
"Granger, I'm perfectly aware of the boundaries and regulations of 'none of my followers can hang around here'. You don't need to spell it out for me," Draco snapped and Hermione could feel her cheeks redden.
"I was just making sure that you understood the rules. If I can't have any of my friends up here, you certainly can't have any of your friends," Hermione defended, her cheeks still crimson from her latest discomfiture. Draco moaned dramatically.
"As flattered as I am that you think you need to lay everything out for me, you would do well to remember that I am not Potty or Weasel and am fully capable of understanding things the first time around."
"Do you have to insult my friends with every breath you take?" Hermione demanded pointedly. Draco shrugged.
"Quite the hypocrite, aren't we Granger?" He drawled to Hermione's slacked-jaw incredulousness.
"I did no such thing!" She defended hotly, folding her arms defiantly over her chest. "I never said anything bad about your friends!"
"But you were thinking it, weren't you? Cringing at the thought of Crabbe and Goyle slouching around on the fancy chairs you have so openly eulogized." For a minute Hermione stood completely frozen, shocked at the clarity of which Draco predicted her thoughts. Then, when she realized that Draco was still looking at her as if waiting for her to refute the claim, she coughed suddenly to clear her throat and mind. "There's no use denying it Granger, I can tell," Draco supplied, inadvertently saving Hermione from coming up with a convincing denunciation.
"I'm not that readable," Hermione offered weakly, but even she knew it wasn't true. If it was then she wouldn't be fighting off embarrassment while trying to come up with some clever rejoinder that would leave Draco feeling as tongue-tied as she was. Draco scoffed at this declaration, standing up so that he was staring straight at Hermione.
"Granger—you wear your thoughts like most girls wear make up. Everything's right there," he said, indicating his face. Hermione, slightly unnerved by this observation, turned away from Draco and walked slowly towards her room.
"I'm turning in for the night. I'll see you in the morning," Hermione clipped, carefully keeping her gaze turned down to the ground so as not to catch any unintended glances of her dorm mate.
"Don't get all touchy Granger—I was just making an observation," Draco said, falling back into his regularly-snarky tone. "It isn't like I insulted your boyfriends or anything." Hermione sighed.
"Honestly Malfoy—it's been seven years. Don't you think you can lay off of Harry and Ron for a few hours at least?" Draco looked as if he was contemplating the suggestion, his trademark smirk returning with vigor.
"Sorry Granger—I don't recall that being one of the stipulations of the position."
"Hermione—you're alive!"
Hermione laughed out loud as an over-excited Ginny raced from the breakfast tables towards her friend. It seemed to her that every time she saw her friends these days they expressed a similar sentiment—as if perpetually surprised by her well being.
"We were taking bets on how long it would take before you jumped off the astronomy tower," Ron stated matter-of-factly, waving a hand at the rest of the table who were presumably engaged in the betting pool as well. Hermione rolled her eyes, sitting in-between Harry and Ginny.
"Oh honestly," Hermione chided lightly, smiling at her friend's foolishness, "you lot are all so dramatic."
"I bet that you would throw Malfoy off of the astronomy tower," Ginny confided secretively, elbowing her friend lightly. Hermione smiled brightly, glad to be back in the company of people who weren't constantly insulting her. All night she had been on edge—eager to determine whether or not Malfoy was in fact making fun of her with each of his smug comments—and it was good to finally be back in the buoyant graces of her friends.
"So how's Malfoy so far? Has he done anything really bad yet? You know Hermione; if you catch him doing anything really incriminating you could report him and probably have him thrown out of school—or even put into Azkaban!" Ron expressed in a notably chipper mood. Hermione rolled her eyes at her friend's childish excitability.
"Yes Ronald, just last night Malfoy threw a little soirée for him and his Death Eater friends. Quite a charming bunch when you get used to them—the smell of rotting flesh is a little hard to get over, but a truly lovely group altogether," Hermione deadpanned, delighting in the bounty of smiles that cropped up around the table at her joke. Ron reddened, taking a discomfited glance around the table.
"I was just thinking you might be able to catch him at something," Ron grumbled, spooning a large portion of food into his mouth. Hermione shrugged.
"I may be able to catch him wearing something embarrassing, but I doubt that he would go so far as to arrange some sort of tête-à-tête with Voldemort himself in our common room. He may be an arrogant git, but he does have sense enough to know who exactly he is rooming with." Those scattered around the table that were still paying close attention to the conversation nodded knowingly at Hermione's statement.
"Speaking of your room," Harry began, clearing his throat loudly, "when do we get to see it?" Ron nodded vigorously.
"Yeah, I heard that they have a bath the size of a swimming pool!"
"Well I heard that there's a whole staff of house elves that will get you whatever you want, day or night," Lavender Brown squealed excitedly, leaning towards Hermione conspiratorially, "but you don't really use them, do you? Because of the whole S.P.E.W. thing?" Hermione rolled her eyes at all of her friend's fabrications.
"Honestly, it's a room not a palace. It's just the same as the Gryffindor common room, except it has neutral colors rather than discriminating for each house," Hermione clarified to her awestruck friends. Either they didn't believe her or they chose to ignore her, as the whole table continued to buzz excitedly about all of the different accomodations for the Heads dormitory. Hermione shook her head, laughing softly to herself. People were just so gullible it was ridiculous! They would believe anything they heard! Hermione was so caught up in her own thoughts that she barely heard Harry whisper next to her, his voice barely audible over their unconvinced peers.
"Is there anything—well, I meant to say—have you seen anything about my parents?" Hermione had the sudden urge to tell him about the picture but suppressedit quickly, recalling the agreement she had made the night before. She knew that if she told Harry about the picture he would want to see it and she couldn't bring herself to break the oath already. It had only been a day for crying out loud. I'll tell him about it eventually, Hermione assured herself, ignoring the guilt weighing heavily in her stomach. For now though, I have to keep my promise to Malfoy. With a forced smile of sympathy, Hermione shook her head sadly.
"I'm sorry Harry—I didn't see anything about them," Hermione apologized, feeling even worse when the optimism in Harry's eyes faded to a disconsolate dreariness.
"It's okay Mione, I was just thinking that maybe there was something up there," he said, his tone decidedly more morose than it had beenjust moments earlier.
"Besides," Hermione continued, raising hervoiceso that it carried over the rest of the table, "I don't think we're even allowed to have people inour common room anyway. Something about inviolability for the Heads." At her peers' disappointed looks, Hermione felt the guiltchurn painfully in her stomach. She hated lying, especially to her friends andclassmates.Hermione suddenly lost all trace of an appetite and regarded her full plate with indifference. It wasn't so much that she had just lied to her best friends. It was that she had just lied toher best friends.
For Malfoy.
