I never expected this story to be this well received I truly expected it to flop. The fact that over 60 people are following it after 3 chapters amazes me. I would like to say thank you to all of you how are taking time out of your day to read my ramblings. You guys are great!
I would like to especially thank TheAustralianZombie for helping me with my grammar in the last chapter. I really appreciate it. Someone has to keep me in check.
Also, I would like to apologize for the wait. I promised some one that I would have an update within the week, and here it is, over a month later, and I give you this load of crap. I'm not promising anymore updates because I'm unreliable with deadlines. Anyhoo, enjoy.
"If you're just going to stand there staring at me, I'm going to assume you do like what you see, Hermione."
I realize I'm gaping at him like a fish. I blush. Malfoy catches it before I look towards the ground and smirks, coming even closer to me. "What's the matter, Granger? You where so feisty just a second ago, and now you're completely quiet. What are you shook up about?"
He grabs my chin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling my head up so I can't avoid his search look. "Why'd you do that, Draco?" I notice the way his eyebrow arches when I use his given name, but I don't worry about it. Not two minutes ago, he was calling me 'Mione'. We're even.
"Do what, Hermione? Compliment you?" he asks. "Because I can," he answers before I can. Again.
"No, Draco," I drag his name out. "Why did you give him the impression that we're together? Now he's going to go and tell everyone that we really are together, and they're going to give me those looks just like they did this morning in the Great Hall, and they're-" I don't get to finish my ramblings, because he places his finger over my lips and shushes me. Looking up into his face, I see him smiling and chuckling silently.
"You worry way too much about what other people think, Hermione. It can't be good for you." He drops his finger and smirks. "Why do you care what those imbeciles think anyway?"
I really think about my reasoning before I answer him. "I have spent way to much time being better then those people so they would think that I was equal to them. I don't want them to think any less of me because of Ron," I whisper, looking down at the ground I have come to know well due to the amount of time I spend staring at it recently.
"Why would they think any less of you? Aren't they your friends?" he questions me, truly curious.
I roll my eyes, but don't look up. "You really don't know much, do you?"
It came out as more of a pondering than an actual question, but he still answers. "I tend to think that I'm quite intelligent, but please, do explain why you think differently." He waves his hand in a 'proceed' gesture.
"I wasn't talking about grades. I was talking about the way people are. You're naïve to the facts. People don't like people who are smarter than they are, especially someone with less experience. People don't like people who would rather spend time with a book than with them," I state. "People aren't friends with know-it-alls."
I whisper the last part, turning to walk back to the castle before he can laugh at me. He catches me by the arm and turns me back towards him.
"But Potter and Weasley-"
"Harry and Ronald couldn't find their asses with both hands and a map. With out me, they'd be long dead by know, and they've come to realize it. Saving someone on multiple occasions tends to entail niceties and obligatory, begrudging friendship.
They don't understand me, and I hope to never sink to the level of their mental capacity. Ron and Harry like me because I can do things for them. They don't like me because I'm me. No one does," I pout. "Now that you've gotten your little heart-to-heart, I would appreciate it if you would leave alone me to mope."
Draco doesn't release me. Instead, he looks at me with pain and sympathy almost tangible in his silver orbs. "That's terrible, Hermione. I'm so sorry," he whispers. "Didn't Weasley ever..."
"Love me? I think he thought he did. To begin with. But I've come to the conclusion that Ron saw that I did things for him and wanted me to do more... things... for him. And when I didn't want to, he started having all of those whores. He didn't end it because breaking up with me would ruin his 'Golden' image."
Draco studied me intensively for a moment or two, like he was really looking at me for the first time, absorbing every line and feature of my face. We stand there,afraid of what the other is thinking. I can practically see the wheels clicking into place in his head.
"You're a virgin." It isn't a question. It isn't a mean-spirited statement, either. I'm surprised. I've never been one for gossip, but even I have overheard Draco bragging about his... prowess... to every other Slytherin male. The lack of even a small jab at my prudish ways or unattractive features astounds me.
The Draco Malfoy I have known for over six years would never pass up an opportunity to rip into anybody. Even his best mates are victim to his sarcastic manner. "Draco..." I ask, "you're not Imperiused or anything, are you? You're not some imposter taking Poly juice? Is this some sort of dare? Because I re-" I am silenced once again by his finger on my lips.
"Is it really so impossible to think that I could actually be nice to you without some evil scheme in mind?"
I pull his hand away from my face, but don't release it. "Before the last few days? Yes. But now? Now I have no idea. What are you playing at, Draco?"
The amount of direct eye contact we've made in less than a week is staggering. But, here we are, yet again. Standing in my special place, by my bench, beside the forest, in the garden, staring into each other, almost in an unspoken challenge. Draco breaks first, looking down at my hand, still clasping his.
"Half of Hogwarts is under the impression, Hermione, that you and I are together," he states.
"And..?" I ask, waving my free hand.
"And..." he pauses dramatically. "I know you want revenge on the Weasel. He can't stand me. Wouldn't it burn him if you and I... were together? He's telling people you left him for me to gain sympathy. But if you told people that you left him for me because of all the terrible things he did, he would lose all that sympathy and have to see you on the arm of the most handsome man in Hogwarts."
Not conceited at all, are you? I roll my eyes. "Well... When you put it like that... this revenge thing sounds like a piece of cake. But what do you get out of it, Draco? What's in it for you?"
"Tormenting He-Who-Is-A-Flaming-Ginger and The Boy Who Just Won't Die."
"It can't just be that, Draco. You always have some grand scheme to improve things for yourself. What is it this time?"
He pauses to think for a moment. I begin to believe he'll never answer me, but in true Malfoy fashion, he can't let me have the last word. "You'll just have to figure that out along the way. More incentive to give it a try, right?" Again, that smirk. But this time, it isn't taunting. It's almost... friendly... if a smirk can be amiable.
"Alright, Draco. Only because I love a mystery," I assure quickly.
"Of course, Princess. Now, being the marvelous pseudo boyfriend I am, I shall escort you to your first class." He offers me his arm. "Can't let the book worm be late to Potions."
Releasing his hand, I place mine in the crook of his elbow. "Of course."