Chapter 6
At this moment Draco had found his way to the stairs as well, and stood leaning over an unbroken section of stair railing. He had been about to laugh at their predicament, but stopped midway in shock. Was the Weasel on top of Hermione? Was he KISSING her? An unknown and unsought feeling blazed through him as his pale cheeks flushed. As Hermione surfaced, looking as shocked as Draco felt, he lifted his chin and practically jumped the rest of the stairs, sprinting out the door. Ron and Hermione looked up in the direction of the sound and groaned, both realizing who had left.
"I think he saw that," Hermione breathed.
A million thoughts were racing through Draco's head, but he could neither collect them nor sort them out. Most were much too foreign to do anything with at all. He simply couldn't be jealous of the Weasel, could he?
His feet made crunching noises with every step as he sped through the leaf-covered path that led towards Hogsmeade. Draco wanted nothing more than to go back to the Three Broomsticks, force another Firewhiskey out of Madame Rosmerta, and drown his sorrows once again. Evidently, and as much as he despised it, Hermione appeared to have that effect on him. But he knew that it was not wise to get drunk twice in one day, especially since he'd hear it from Hermione later, the very person who was driving him back to the cheery pub in the first place. Hey! The Hog's Head had unlimited quantities of Firewhiskey! I bet they wouldn't try to cut a bloke off! On this thought he turned, and walked with a purpose toward the dark pub. His pace quickened, but as he grasped the door knob, his hand slid off of it before he could grip it. He frowned in confusion, and again reached to yank it open. Yet again his hand could not grasp the wicked door knob! He began wildly yanking at the possessed door, and when thwarted each time by the slippery handle, began pounding like a madman upon the wood itself. He spun around as he heard a giggle from somewhere behind him. Hermione stood a good fifteen feet away, stifling her laughter with a gloved hand. As he realized he had been jinxed, Malfoy snarled at her, "Sod off, Granger. Go back to your freckled snogging partner."
Hermione bit back a retort; she had been expecting something similar to this. She decided to try and distract him.
"Malfoy, what are you doing in front of the Hog's Head? More sorrows to drown?" she teased. When Malfoy didn't answer but looked around rather shiftily, she put her hands on her hips. "Malfoy! Drinking is NOT the answer!" She paused for a moment in thought. "What could you possibly be…Wait one minute!"A slow grin spread across her face.
Draco eyed her in apprehension. Oh no! She's on to me! Wait, what am I saying? I have nothing to hide. There is no jealousy here. It was just more than my stomach could take to see those two gits together. That's all!
"Malfoy…"Hermione began in a singsong voice, "Are you jealous, perhaps?"
Draco had already recovered though, and with a roll of his eyes and his usual sneer, laughed derisively. "Maybe that fall off the stairs injured your senses, Granger. Why on God's green earth would I be jealous of the Weasel King?"
"Well, seeing as you can't stand the thought of me and Ron together, as evidenced by your quick departure back at the Shrieking Shack and your run to the Hog's Head, I'd have to guess that you want me for yourself," she smugly told him, feeling much like Draco had when he used the same words on her.
"Ha! Granger, you've officially gone mental! Why would I want to snog a filthy little Mudblood like yourself?" Draco cackled.
"Well," Hermione began seductively, stepping forward to close the distance between them. "If that was true, then this should have no effect on you." She looked up directly into his eyes, and, in a very un-Hermione-like move, she reached up and brushed a finger against his jaw, tracing it down to his chin. Although she had no idea why she was trying to seduce an evil Slytherin who wanted her dead, Hermione liked the idea of having some type of control over him. And if he really was jealous of Ron, then this would be the ultimate test to find out.
"Surprised" would be a good adjective to describe Draco's facial expression as Hermione touched his icy skin, but it soon changed as the Head Boy's eyes fluttered shut and his breathing increased slightly.
The Head Girl was also surprised to find that she did have a substantial effect on him! Well, what do you know, the arrogant Draco Malfoy can't resist me! I'll have to use that to my advantage later… she thought in delight.
Hermione suddenly dropped her hand, but it was against her will. She looked in confusion from her seemingly frozen arm to Draco's face, trying to figure out what was going on. His smirk said it all; he had jinxed her in the exact same way that she had only moments before.
"Were you trying to seduce me?" he questioned in curiosity.
Hermione's eyes narrowed at him as she struggled to free her arm from its invisible vice. She decided to dodge that particular inquiry. "Let me go, Malfoy," she hissed, her face still close to his.
"Aw, but I thought you liked being this close to me. After all, you were the one who made a move on me." A satisfied smile curled on his lips.
"I was just trying to make you admit it!" Hermione growled. "Agh! Malfoy, take it off!"
"Ooo, kinky, Granger," Draco teased as he watched her struggle fruitlessly.
"I meant the jinx, you git!"
"Wait," the blond-haired Slytherin interrupted, "make me admit what?"
Hermione ceased her attempt at breaking free to glare at him. "Admit that you were jealous of Ron!"
Draco sighed and shook his head. "You and your scatty ideas. I mean, honestly, even if I had succumbed to your little game of Try-to-Make-Draco-Weak-at-the-Knees, it only would have worked for one reason. I am a male. Unfortunately for me, that means that any female interaction will have an intense effect on me, whether I want it to or not. So your test proved nothing."
Hermione frowned. "You can't just pin this on your hormones, Malfoy."
"Actually, I can," Draco corrected. He raised his wand and gave a small flick, immediately taking the jinx off of his fellow Head. "Now, we're late for our next round. Let's get moving."
Happy that she could now move her arms freely again, Hermione pulled her own wand out of her jacket and whipped it up in the air to cast a rather painful jinx back on Draco. Luckily for him, he whirled around and grabbed her wrist before she could do so.
"That's no way for a Head Girl to act, is it?" he reprimanded.
Breathing hard, Hermione gave him a death-stare, reluctantly lowering her wand and stowing it back in her pocket. She couldn't argue with that logic.
"I loath you," she snarled.
"For now, Granger, for now."
The remainder of the Hogsmeade trip passed by in comparative quiet, and soon the two Heads found themselves back in their own cozy dormitory, out of the chilling wind. Hermione, who was eager to have time away from Draco after a full day of nothing but him, retired quickly to the privacy of her own room. She picked up her new book in excitement and immediately prepared to submerse herself in it. As she did so, however, she noticed something different about the cover. Skimming over the gold lettered title, Hermione reread it several times before finally gasping in surprise and confusion. In curly calligraphy was a completely new title than the one she had seen when the book had been purchased. "The Diary of Hermione Granger: Books, Boys, and Being the Best You Can," was now scrawled across the cover.
"What in the world is this book?!"Hermione shrieked.
"It's me!" a peppy voice piped up from nowhere. Hermione let out a yelp and dropped the book on the floor.
"OW!" the voice resounded again. Hermione leapt on her bed and stared at the book in terror.
Ok, books don't talk. So what the bloody heck was that? She thought, honestly afraid at this point. Then, a fresh idea occurred to Hermione and her eyes narrowed. Wait a minute…
She scooped up the forsaken book and threw open her door. She marched down the hall to Draco's door and beat upon it. When there was no answer, she shouted "Alohomora!" and strode in.
Draco didn't look up from the parchment he was scribbling on. "Get out, Granger. I'm busy."
Hermione glared at the back of his head. Draco yelled as the parchment he'd been writing on burst into flame. "What the—! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"
"What did you do to my new book, Malfoy?" Hermione growled menacingly. She pulled it out to reveal its new cover. Draco's forehead creased as he struggled to understand what she was talking about.
"Your diary, Granger? I'll admit, I'd have no qualms about reading it, but I didn't do anything to it. Didn't even know you kept one."
Hermione's glare did not falter. "You put a speaking spell on it to annoy me. And this is NOT my diary!" She allowed Draco to take the book and turn it over in his hands.
"Are you quite sure? Sure looks like a diary. See? It says—"
"I know how to read, Malfoy! It said something back there and it had to be you who jinxed it!"
Draco frowned at the book and opened it to look at its pages. "Maybe you were hearing things, Granger. Ha, probably wouldn't be a first. Wait a second, 'the stupid git did it again today; he opened his mouth…' Hey! This is your diary!"
Hermione's mouth fell open in shock, but with a quick charm, summoned her book safely to her own hands. "Merlin! It is my diary! Wha—How?" She stared down at the unassuming book in wonder.
"I am not a stupid git!" Draco retorted.
"Yes you are, and you obviously did something to my book—enchanted it or something! Change it back!" she yelled furiously.
"I didn't do anything to your precious book, Mudblood!" he barked. "Now, get out of my room! I have to write my letter all over again, considering you turned the last one to ashes!"
"Oh, like it was important!" Hermione said off-handedly. "Who were you writing to anyways?"
Draco stared at her for a second and then lit up with a fake smile. "Oh! Well how about you just sit down on my bed and I'll tell you all about it, and then we can paint each others toes and talk about boys!" His face dead-panned after this exclamation and he pointed at the door. "Now leave before I lose my mind and actually do those things."
Hermione's nostrils flared angrily as she stormed out of his room, slamming the door shut behind her. "Stupid prat! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She flopped back down on her bed and gazed at her book once again.
"You really shouldn't aggravate him, you know. Oh my, my—if you saw what he writes about you in his journal, I don't think you would!" The peppy voice was back.
"What are you?!" Hermione practically yelled in frustration.
Immediately after her question, a smooth golden face appeared on the book's cover.
"I'm Twink, my dear! Here to show you the world and all its secrets!" the book chirped excitedly.
Hermione gaped. "You talk! An—and you're a book!"
"Yes, Hermione! And if I know anything at all, you know all about books! However, Missy, you haven't come across anything like me before!" the book giggled in glee. "You see, I am a very special book! I think we'll become fast friends."
Hermione could not help but smile at the book's enthusiasm. "Well, this is quite amazing! Tell me about yourself. It's not every day I meet an enchanted book, after all. There's no way Malfoy could conjure something this nice."
"I should think not!" the book said indignantly. "I am here to help you succeed! Just like I promised, only in much more things than becoming a good Head! Flip through my pages, 'Mione, and you'll find something different on each one, every time."
Hermione did as Twink said and began to carefully finger her way through the pages. Maps, potion recipes, history chapters, spells, hexes, jinxes, detailed pictures, and even…. "What's this?"Hermione exclaimed. Down the page in a slant scrawl were slowly forming words.
Dear Mother,
No need to worry about me. Everything is fine here. As you know, I have to live with that filthy Mudblood, but I've made sure it's not affecting my studies...
Hermione raised her eyebrows as she realized what she was looking at. "Very impressive, Twink!" she praised her new friend. "It's the letter Malfoy was writing!"
Twink laughed, "I thought you might be interested in that. There's plenty more where that came from, too!"
Fascinated and entranced by the black, inky words that were appearing before her eyes, Hermione read on.
Father says that the tutoring is going to be worth it, but I think it's pointless. Try to talk some sense into him when you get the chance. Granger hates it almost as much as I do, so I don't think it will be a problem if we discontinue with our sessions. McGonagall will obviously let us quit, too. Well, that's all for now. Send sweets with your next letter, my supply has run out much too quickly.
Draco
"Pointless tutoring?" Hermione said, appalled by the very idea. "And I thought he was really progressing, too!"
"Don't worry about him, Hermione, he's just in a rotten mood," Twink explained. When given a curious look from her owner, she went on. "Oh, I can read moods, too! But I don't display them, so if you want to know anyone's disposition, you have to ask."
"Wow, what a handy little book you are!" the Head Girl grinned. "I think I shall find many good uses for you."
"Well, I for one am certainly glad that you bought me; I had to spend my days conversing with that awful Jinxy woman!" Twink said, making a gagging noise at the sound of her name.
Hermione chuckled as she recalled her own encounter with the scary shop keeper. "Ah, so that's why you changed your price!" she recalled suddenly.
"Yup! I saw you had put me back, so I changed it! I knew the title would make you return," Twink replied with a smile and wink.
"So your titles change too!" Hermione realized.
The book's golden face nodded (if that's possible). "That's right! Everything about me changes constantly, that way no one can find out that I'm magical!"
Hermione grinned at her and flipped to a new page that had an image of Harry on it. He was leaning over a table with a quill poised in the air and a piece of parchment in front of him.
"What's he doing, Twink?" she asked.
"I believe Mister Potter is attempting to write a note to someone," she answered.
Hermione frowned. "You mean you don't know who it's to?"
"I'm afraid I can't read minds, Hermione, just moods."
"Well, what's Harry feeling, then?"
"Hmm," Twink began, apparently thinking. "He's feeling very…in love! Aw, do you know who it is?"
"It must be Ginny! I guess they had a good date today," Hermione answered, feeling happy for them herself.
"Ginny Weasley? I love her diary, it's always so entertaining!" the book said. "Would you like to take a peek? She's penning something right now."
"No, no, Twink, I wouldn't want to invade on her privacy," Hermione declined. To her surprise, this just pleased Twink more.
"Oh well, more for me!" she said with a playful smile.
Hermione spent the remainder of her evening exploring Twink's pages and doing her lessons. Draco didn't come to her room to begin their tutelage and she did not bother to seek him out. She had not forgotten his disgust with her in his letter.
Meanwhile, Draco finished rewriting his letter, now with a new fervor of dislike for the girl he was discussing with his mother. After folding it and placing it on his bedside table to take to the Owlry in the morning, he shut off his light and wriggled down into his covers. It had been a long day, considering it was now almost midnight, so he knew he would get a deep sleep that night.
Suddenly, a soft but urgent whispering came from the inside of Draco's nightstand. His eyes flew open in alarm, but he remained still, trying to figure out if he was simply imagining things or if he really was hearing voices.
"Draco, can you hear me?" the sound came again. The now annoyed Slytherin flung off his comforter and sat up on his bed. Slowly, cautiously, he opened the table drawer and peered inside. In the darkness, a small circle of illumination shone back at him, making his face light up. His eyes squinted at the brightness of it, and, when they finally adjusted, he recognized a pale, pointed face looking back at him.
"There you are!" said the mirror-sized version of Lucius Malfoy. "I've been calling you for ages, Draco!"
Even though he was surprised to see his father, Draco picked up the mirror and settled on his bed; he knew they would be talking for a while.
"Sorry, I was writing Mum a letter," he explained.
"Oh, well, that's alright. Tell her hello for me," Lucius said. "Anyway, like I told you last time I visited, I'm here to check up on your progress with the girl."
Draco sighed and looked away for a second, trying to configure the right words that would please his father. "Granger, yeah…we're doing fine. She's tutoring and I'm learning."
"Are you just saying that, Draco? You're not lying to me, are you?" the face asked sternly. "Because you know that lying won't get you anywhere, especially with something so important."
"Father, I told you—"
"Now, I'll ask you again," he continued, ignoring his son's protests. "Are you making progress with Miss Granger?"
"How would you define 'progress'?" Draco risked asking rhetorically.
He earned himself a deep scowl from his father. "You aren't befriending her, are you?! I don't think you understand how crucial it is that we keep up a good image with her! If she lets anything slip—"
"Father, I've tried being nice to her and it only makes her more suspicious! Instead, I found that threatening works much better," Draco cut him off, looking rather smug.
Accordingly, Lucius was rather taken back by his son's decision. "Threats? You threatened the Mudblood? What did you say?" Draco definitely took notice of how pleased his father seemed with him.
"I told her that if she didn't keep her mouth shut, we'd kill her filthy Muggle parents," he answered with a wicked grin.
"Well, well, Draco! I must admit, I'm very impressed with you," Lucius said. "You're acting like a true Malfoy now."
"Oh, erm…thanks," Draco replied uncomfortably. It was a rare occasion that his father praised him, and when he did, it was no more than a few words. This was above and beyond Draco's expectations. "But I had to do something; she was beginning to get antsy keeping it all in. Almost gave it out a few times, but luckily we were in our dorm."
"All of that is well and good, Draco, but I insist that you continue being kind towards her. One threat, even if it is rather effective, won't keep her quiet forever. I have a good feeling that she doesn't distrust you that completely."
Now it was the Head Boy's turn to scowl. "Father, I told you that doesn't work! Besides, it's killing me to pretend that she's not a Mudblood."
His father sighed heavily. "Listen, I understand your plight, but I'm commanding you to do this for me. It won't be for long, anyway; I'm almost certain I've figured out a way to get 'me' out of Azkaban. After that, you'll never have to see her again. Just a few more months, Draco, that's all I want from you."
"A few more months?!" his son exclaimed in horror. "I thought you said this would be over before second term! I'll never last that long!"
"Hush!" Lucius quieted with a snarl. "Things have changed, so we're going to need more time. And it's time for you to step up and get over your petty differences. I suppose that…ah, well, let's just say that I'll send some help for you soon."
"Help?" Draco questioned, curious but suspicious at the same time. "What do you mean, 'you'll send help'? This doesn't involve one of your stupid, worthless followers, does it?"
His father gave him a hard glare. "They are not worthless, Draco. In case you've forgotten, one of them is in my cell at Azkaban as we speak, and if that were not so, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. Some may be dim-witted, I'll admit, but they do what I tell them without arguing. But, no, I will not be sending them because they're obviously still locked up in that bloody jail. I have other ways of helping that do not require someone's presence."
"What other ways—"
"It does not matter!" Lucius snapped. "I don't have any more time to discuss this, but take heed of what I have said, Draco. And this time, try harder! If not, I will make sure I carry out that threat I gave you last month."
"But what did you mean by—" Draco began only to be left suddenly. In a flash, his father's face disappeared, and he was left staring at a mirror that only reflected his own confused one.
He threw the object back into the drawer and slammed it shut, throwing himself back into bed with fury. Stupid prick! Draco thought angrily. Why won't he ever listen to me? The threat was good enough, and I don't need to be nice to Granger anymore than I have been! Why can't he just bust himself out like he did last time? I mean, I know my plan didn't work, so why can't he just come up with his own if he's so high and mighty? He doesn't need me anymore, anyway. All I know is that he better hurry up and find a plan, because I don't think I can stand another semester with the Mudblood and her drama. As he sat there thinking about Hermione, he remembered her diary. Hm, I bet Granger's got some juicy stuff in there! I believe I should find that book one day and give it a read. She's always telling me to broaden my horizons with reading, so why not start with a book she wrote? I'll have to find it when she's gone or something. All of this scheming comforted Draco, and soon he was fast asleep, dreaming about what wonders lay in the vast pages of Hermione's diary.
"Gooood morning, Hermione!"
The Head Girl shot up in bed, looking around her room in alarm.
"I said good morning!"
Hermione glanced over to her bedside table and spotted a golden-faced book smiling back at her.
"Oh, it's you, Twink! I thought that ruddy git Malfoy had gotten in here," she said, grinning back.
"No, I would have told you if that happened. I keep a sharp eye out for that one; don't forget I know most of his secrets," Twink replied, a mischievous glint in her eye.
"You do?" Hermione asked, suddenly wide awake.
"Well, I can read his journal, can't I?" the book said innocently, as if reading someone else's secret thoughts was an everyday occurrence.
"You can?!" she enthused. Hermione grabbed Twink off the table and flipped her open, going through pages like a hurricane.
"Whoa!" Twink yelped as she was transported to Hermione's lap so quickly. "Yes, of course I can! I can access any type of written document in the past one thousand years. And just what are you looking for, Missy?"
"Malfoy's journal, of course! I want to know what he writes about me!" Hermione exclaimed. Twink remained silent as the Gryffindor continued her search; she would let her find out the hard way first.
Hermione deflated with a frown as the back cover turned over in her hand. "I thought you
said you could read Malfoy's journal, Twink? Where is it?"
The book sighed. "I'm afraid I can only see it when he's actually writing in it. Other than that, I cannot pry into someone else's personal effects."
"Oh," the Head Girl replied, clearly disappointed. "Well, can you tell me when he starts to write, then?" she asked hopefully.
"Hmm," Twink thought. "Well, from my experience, I can tell you that he usually begins writing when he goes to bed each night. But when he actually starts I can most definitely tell you! Although I may be asleep sometimes, so then I wouldn't be able to tell."
"That's great, Twink!" Hermione cheered. "Wait, you can sleep?"
"Of course I can! You don't think I just lie here all day, staring at the ceiling, do you? That would be quite boring. No, no, I need my rest just like you. How do you think I stay so peppy all the time?"
She laughed happily. "Maybe because you can delve into other people's lives whenever you want to? I know I'd be peppy if I could do that!"
"Well, that is an advantage…Oi!" Twink cried out. "He's writing something, Hermione!"
"Who, Malfoy?" Hermione said even though she knew it was. She picked Twink back up and opened her cover, seeing the same dark, slanted writing from the night before being scrawled on the first page.
"I suppose he forgot to write last night and is catching up now," Twink guessed as her owner began to read.
October 16th (written the following morning)
Well, she's done it again. Granger couldn't keep her mouth shut and decided that yesterday would be a perfect day for a nice long chat about this past summer. As if I didn't already know everything that happened! I'm the one who saved her, for Merlin's sake! And I almost managed to kill my father in the process! So, for some insane reason, she decides that it's alright to just start talking about it, as if we were discussing the weather or something. Of course, I was drunk out of my mind, so I guess she thought she could take advantage of the moment, but I mean, I could still understand what was going on! I've been drunk enough times to be able to actually stay somewhat sober in the middle of the fog. I swear, that girl is going to die young if she doesn't learn to control her emotions around dangerous people. Does she not know who I am? What I've done? Maybe she's just so naive to think that I've put it all behind me. Well, I have, but Father doesn't see it that way. He continues to involve me in every bloody scheme he comes up with, such as Operation Bust-Out-of-Azkaban. Hello? Does his mind not comprehend that it didn't work last time? I guess he just thinks it failed because I orchestrated it, but I mean, honestly, I think the man's gone daft. Well, whatever, he can do what he wants. If the fool gets killed, so be it. It's his plan, so it's his funeral. And what's all this crap about befriending Granger? Who the bloody hell does he think I am, Potter? Or perhaps he wants me to be more like Weasley and harbor a secret love for her. Ha! I never thought someone could be so thick. Oh, did I mention that I saw her snogging the life out of him at the Shrieking Shack yesterday? Yeah! Right there on the floor, they were just going at it! I got out of there as fast as I could, but I still can't get that sickly image out of my mind. AH! I think I just threw up in my mouth. Well, time to go harass Granger about it! More later.
Draco
"Why, that little prat!" Hermione shouted. "I was not 'going at it' with Ron! He's the one who kissed me! Which I still don't understand…"
"Ron kissed you? Ron Weasley?" Twink asked excitedly.
"Yes, he did. On our Hogsmeade trip yesterday. It was all so sudden, I had no idea what to do!" she answered, closing the book so she could talk to her face-to-er…book-face.
Before she got the chance to, though, her door burst open and in walked the prat himself, a smirk on his pale lips.
"Malfoy!" Hermione shrieked, hiding Twink under her comforter as she pulled it around her body protectively. "What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?!"
He frowned as he looked around her room. "I thought I heard you talking to someone in here. I just wondered, you know, if it was your little snogging partner." His smirk returned at the sight of her shocked face.
"Number one, you git, I don't have a snogging partner. If you're referring to Ron, we have nothing going on. He's the one who kissed me, anyway," she calmly explained. "Number two, who are you to just barge in on me like that?! I could have been changing, you know!"
"Pity, that's what I was hoping for, Granger," he replied cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
"You're disgusting!" Hermione yelled. She picked up her pillow and chucked it at his head, narrowly missing him as he ducked. "Would you mind getting out of my room now?"
"Yes, I would mind," Draco said. "I don't believe you."
"Don't believe what?"
"That you weren't enjoying the Weasel's snog. It seemed to me that you were more than willing to let him have a go at you."
"What do you know?" she defended heatedly. "All you saw was a flashing image as you fled from the building. We fell off the stairs, landed in an awkward position, and Ron kissed me. End of story." She emphasized certain words to make sure he got the idea that she did not instigate anything.
"Then how come you didn't push him off straight away?" Draco pushed. He was not convinced in the least, Hermione could tell.
"Well, if you didn't notice, he was kind of pinning me to the ground!" she exclaimed. "I couldn't have pushed him off if I tried; he's a lot stronger than he looks."
Draco's eyebrows rose at her. "And how would you know that, Granger? Are you saying you've been in a similar situation before?"
"You know what?" she began, a smile on her face for the first time during their conversation. "I don't have to explain anything to you. Besides, I think you're just jealous!" Her smile widened as Draco's smirk disappeared.
With one more suspicious glance around her bedroom, he turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind him. Hermione locked it after he left, and began to get ready for her day. As she walked down to breakfast, she groaned to herself. Oh great. I forgot that now I actually have to see Ron. How awkward is this going to be!
As she entered the Great Hall however, Ron was not amongst the breakfasters. Upon a second look, Hermione realized Harry wasn't either. As she sat down, bewildered, Ginny appeared at her shoulder.
"Hermione," she began, "If you're wondering where Harry is, he's up in the hospital wing with Ron." As Hermione looked up at her, aghast, she hurried on. "It's alright, he's fine. Well, sorta. It seems as he was walking to breakfast, Malfoy hexed him from behind without warning. Stupid prat. Now Ron's lips have swollen to six times their size." Before Ginny had even finished her sentence, Hermione had gotten up and began marching resolutely to the Slytherin table.
Draco jumped as she hissed fiercely into his ear: "You think you're so clever. I'll have my revenge on you Draco Malfoy, when you least expect it."
Without waiting for his reply, she turned on her heel and rushed up to the hospital wing. Harry was leaving the room as she approached it.
"Hermione!" he greeted. "Er, trust me—Ron would not want you to see him right now. He's not looking so good to be honest." Hermione nodded and stepped back. "What we're wondering," he continued, "is why Malfoy hexed him in the first place. Usually we have to provoke him. I'll make sure to do that next time."
Hermione had a decently practical idea of why Draco had hexed Ron (his choice of hex was enough to guess that), but chose to say nothing. The conversation would only grow awkward. She agreed with Harry, and returned to the Great Hall to finish her breakfast with Ginny.
Upon her return to the Head's common room, Hermione sat on the cushy couch and, while waiting for Draco's return, meditated the best way to get revenge on her fellow Head. She made a mental decision to recruit Ginny's help if needed, as she was known for creative means of design for such things.
After at least twenty more minutes, the Head Boy strolled in, gave Hermione a nonchalant wave, and went directly into the bathroom, locking himself in.
"Oh no you don't!" she said aloud, stalking over to the thick, wooden door. Once there, Hermione pounded loudly on it with her fists, making the frame shake slightly. "Draco Malfoy, you open this door this instant or I'll make sure you're never able to use the bathroom again!" She was thoroughly surprised when he did exactly as she asked and swung the door open. Draco stared at her in a bored manner, waiting for her to say something.
"Well, what is it?" he said, yawning slightly.
This only infuriated her more. "What IS IT?! I'll tell you what it is, you idiotic prick! How could you do that to Ron?! That was simply the most low, underhanded, improper, immature thing you could have done! And you're a HEAD! What were you thinking?!"
"I was thinking that Weasley would look rather dashing with a big, fat lip," Draco answered with his trademark smirk. "Don't you think so?"
"No, I don't think so, Malfoy!" Hermione screamed. She whipped out her wand and shoved it under his chin, making him tilt his head up and back against the now closed door. "I could do so many things to you right now," she said in a soft, sinister tone.
"Granger, you just said yourself that Heads shouldn't use hexes on other students!" he pleaded in a whiny voice not his own.
Hermione stared at his weak form up against the wall and pondered a moment. If she hexed him now, no one would see it. That was pleasing, but not as satisfying as it would be to have the whole school witness him turning into a donkey, or something equally humiliating. Besides, he was right. She hated it when he was right. Reluctantly, the Head Girl lowered her wand and put it back in her robes.
Realizing he was free (for the time being), Draco pushed off from the door and resumed towering over her.
"Just couldn't do it, could you? I knew you didn't have the guts," he taunted.
Hermione laughed. "You wait, Malfoy. I told you I'd have my revenge on you, and I meant it. I never break a promise."
"Don't you mean a threat?"
"No. Threats don't always happen, promises are for sure," she said confidently. Draco knew she was referring to more than just promising to hex him; she was targeting the threat he had made in Hogsmeade.
"My threats always go through," Draco disagreed, trying to insinuate that he would kill her parents if she spilled the beans.
"Do they now?" Hermione asked in a surprised tone. "Funny, I always thought you were joking. After all, you are the one who told me to get a sense of humor."
Draco didn't answer as he stood there, fists clenched into tight balls, his whole body shaking. All he wanted to do was throw her a good, hard punch and teach her what his threats were all about. Unfortunately, and for some reason unknown to him, he couldn't do it. He just couldn't hit her. And oddly, he knew it wasn't just because she was a girl.
"Are you alright? Looks like you're going to be sick," she commented, not really interested if he was or not.
All he could do was throw an insult at her. "Sorry, must have gotten a whiff of Mudblood."
The smile fell off Hermione's face like melting butter, but she ignored him. "Speaking of being sick, I'm going to go visit Ron and see how he's doing. Who knows, maybe he needs me to kiss it and make it better," she said, knowing it would make her fellow Head even angrier. She flashed a quick grin at a steaming Draco and left out the portrait hole.
Still shaking with fury, Draco collapsed into the nearest armchair and heaved a great sigh. That woman takes more energy out of me than fighting with my father! He muttered in his head. I guess he was right, though. Granger doesn't take my threat seriously! I guess I'll have to…be…ah, what's that awful word? Oh yeah, NICE. How pathetically disgusting—a Malfoy being nice! What is this world coming to when a man can't even hurl insults as he pleases?
"He's right this way, Miss Granger," Madam Pomphrey said as she led the Head Girl into the hospital wing and to Ron's bed. "He's resting, so try not to disturb him. I just gave him some healing potion and it's made him drowsy."
Currently, the ginger-haired boy was fast asleep, his gigantic lips puffed up into a pout that twitched every time he breathed out. Hermione couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him with unnaturally large, purple lips.
"Oh, Ron, you poor thing," she whispered, trying to stifle her laughter. He groggily opened one of his eyes and seemed to struggle as he tried to decipher who was standing next to him.
"It's me, Hermione," she told Ron. He squinted a bit more and then smiled in recognition. After she returned the gesture, he fell back into his slumber.
"When will the swelling go down?" Hermione questioned the nurse.
"The potion should take effect very soon, so I think it's safe to say he'll be back to normal by this evening," Madam Pomphrey explained. "Now really, he needs his rest, Miss Granger."
Nodding at her and giving Ron one last kiss on the cheek, Hermione stood and followed the nurse out the door. She didn't feel like returning to her dorm, where she knew Malfoy would most likely be, so off to the library she went. Besides, she needed to check out a few books for the Potions essay Snape had just assigned them. If Malfoy knew what was good for him, he'd be working on this too. Hermione thought bitterly.
All too soon, she bit her own tongue. Sitting at a corner table was Draco, picking his way half-heartedly through a book labeled, "The Magical Properties of Asphodel and It's Use in Everyday Potion-Making." She groaned inwardly at her luck; that was the exact book she needed. Either she could wait until he was done with it, pretending to be interested in another book entirely, or she could work on the essay with him while they shared the book. Hermione hated the latter idea. Of course, she could always just go and snag the book from under his nose and high-tail it out of there before he could even respond. What to do…
"Ahem."
Draco looked up from the book he was reading (trying to read, more like it), and saw his roommate staring back at him, arms crossed. By now, he knew Hermione well enough to figure this one out on his own; he had the book she needed, and there was no way he was going to give it up without a fight.
"Can I help you, or are you just going to stand there like you're making some kind of statement or something?" Draco sneered.
"Yes, actually, you can. I need the book you've got there," Hermione stated. She figured she'd try to negotiate first, and, if that didn't work, she'd use the grab-n-go technique.
"Well, too bad, I'm busy using it. Or were you too dumb to notice?"
"No, I noticed," she replied, taking up all of her resources to remain calm. "I was just wondering if I could use it, that's all."
Draco stared at her as if she really were dumb. "Ok, but I'm using it now. So you, Little Miss Sunshine, will have to wait."
"Malfoy, you're flipping through pages, you aren't really reading. By the time we're through arguing, I could have read it already and given it back!" He was really testing her patience now. Why couldn't he just hand it over!
"Look, Granger, just because you're too thick to realize when someone is reading, doesn't mean I'm going to hand the only copy of this book to you just because you say you want to use it now." Draco gave her a fake smile and resumed thumbing through the pages, not reading anything on purpose; he reveled in annoying her.
"Oh my gosh! Draco, look, it's Pansy! And she's got a giant raincloud over her head!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing over his shoulder.
"What? Where?!" he whirled around and saw nothing, but when he turned back to ask what was going on, he saw Hermione dashing out of the library with his book in her hands.
Once safely out of the librarian's earshot, Draco sprinted after her and began shouting.
"Granger! You filthy Mudblood, give it back!" he roared as they took a turn. Despite her efforts, Draco was much taller than Hermione, and therefore had a much longer stride, so he caught up with her faster than she had predicted. She got to their dorm in record time, with Draco only feet behind her, dove through the portrait hole, and ran all the way into the living room before two strong arms grabbed her from behind. With their momentum still propelling them forward, the two Heads fell into a rolling heap on the floor, settling in the middle of the room, one on top of the other. Hermione fleetingly remembered that she had been in this position only yesterday, but with Ron. For some reason she liked it better this time.
Both students were breathing hard and remained still for a moment, trying to catch their breaths. Draco recovered first and looked down to see Hermione beneath him. A smirk curled on his lips.
"Well, Granger, it seems that you have been in this position more than once!" he laughed.
"Shut up and get off me, Malfoy!" Hermione snarled, pushing up against his chest with her small hands. He wouldn't budge. Quidditch has done him well…she thought.
"No."
She glared at him intensely and tried moving him once more. Draco laughed at her fruitless attempts. "I'm a lot stronger than I look, aren't I?"
Hermione couldn't help but notice that his words were identical to her own that very morning. "Unfortunately," she growled. "Please get off me!"
"Hold your horses, Granger, I just want to ask you something," Draco replied.
"Can't you ask me when I'm a good distance away from you and can act like a civilized human being?" Hermione asked with a sigh.
"So I make you act uncivil, do I?" he questioned, eyebrows raised. Draco chuckled at her words and smirked again. "I think I like that."
"You're a pig, Malfoy."
"All the more to love, my dear."
"Just ask your stupid question before my whole body goes numb!"
"Patience, Granger," Draco chastised. He thought for a moment and then continued. "So, I was wondering something."
After another dramatic pause, Hermione egged him on. "And that would be…?"
"Was this time better than the last?"
"What?" she asked in momentary confusion.
"I mean with Weasley. This time must be better than that," Draco said almost anxiously, though he tried to hide it. Was he afraid she'd say no?
Now Hermione understood what he was talking about. "Why do you ask, Malfoy? Could it be because you secretly wish you were the one snogging me yesterday instead of Ron? And perhaps that would explain why you hexed him and made his lips swell up considerably? Don't think I didn't catch the undertone of that action. I knew exactly why you did it."
"You are so full of it, Granger. There's no way I'd want to be in Weasel Breath's place even if you paid me," Draco scoffed.
"Then why do you care if this time is better than the last? Surely you're not that egotistical that you just want to be better simply for the sake of it."
Seizing his way out of the truth (a truth he didn't even want to admit to himself), Draco smiled. "Oh, but I am. You underestimate me completely."
"Well, sorry, but I have to say that it was better with Ron," Hermione said smugly. "After all, he did kiss me. You haven't even come close."
"Well, I'll have to change that, won't I?" Draco announced as he leaned down towards her. His nose brushed against hers for barely a second before she used all of her strength to thrust his body off of her. He landed with a thud on her right side and screwed up his face as the pain of hitting his head on the hard floor registered.
"Granger, you almost bloody knocked me out!" he complained, sitting up beside her and rubbing the back of his head.
"You deserved it!" Hermione nearly yelled. "What is wrong with you, thinking you can just go ahead and kiss me like that?"
"Oh, like you didn't want it!" he countered. "If you weren't so sodding proud, maybe you would've realized that you fancy me!"
"Yeah, because that's a likely story!" she snorted.
"Look, I know you do, just admit it. I won't laugh," Draco said. Hermione was surprised to find that he looked dead serious, but she thought that maybe it was just the effects of the pain. Well, she hoped it was, anyway.
"I'm not going to admit to something that isn't true, Malfoy."
"Well, perhaps if you let me kiss you, then we'd both know for sure."
"Forget it, I'm not just going to let you kiss me!" Hermione shrieked, appalled.
Draco looked highly offended. "Why not?"
"Because, Malfoy," she began, this time more slowly, "I don't kiss people simply for pleasure, I do it because I'm attracted to them, and more than just physically. I'm guessing that's something you wouldn't understand."
"Don't act like you know me, Granger," he hissed.
"Oh, but don't I?" she challenged, thinking of what she had read out of his diary that morning.
"No, you know nothing. My own father barely knows me," said Draco in a quiet, stony voice.
Hermione stared at him, wondering just what was going on in that head of his. Suddenly, he yanked her back to their conversation.
"Just once, Granger. One time, that's all." He smiled at her suggestively and lightly ran a finger down her arm.
Her nostrils flared in anger while her cheeks burned bright pink. "You stay away from me, Malfoy! I'm warning you!"
"Oh, com'on now! Just one little snog, that's all," he pushed. "I promise I won't bite. Well," he paused seductively, "Maybe."
Hermione stood up and began walking away from him, at which point Draco followed suit and stopped her by the arm.
"Are you sure you don't want to find out what happens?" He was back to that serious tone again, and it made Hermione nervous.
"Yes, I'm positive," she answered with gritted teeth, ripping her arm away from him again. "Stay away from me, or I promise I'll bring that hex upon you faster than you can say Gryffindor!" With that, she stalked out of the dorm and fled down the hall. Draco watched her retreating form with motionless eyes. Somewhere, deep in the pit of his black heart, he had been hurt by her words. But on a more superficial level, no girl had ever turned him down before. They were always more than willing to take him up on his offers, but this shocked him. Hermione didn't want him. It was so simple, yet it left a hefty sting. Draco had a feeling that any hex she gave him wouldn't be quite as painful as this.
Taking him out of his reverie, Hermione stormed back into the room and walked right up to him. She briefly stared at him and then bent down to pick up the abandoned book. "I forgot this," she stated. Draco did not protest and she swiftly fled once again.
That night at dinner, everyone was happy to have Ron (and his lips) back to normal.
"So, Hermione, did you ever…erm…find out why Malfoy hexed me this morning?" he asked her tentatively, unsure of whether or not they were on speaking terms.
She snapped her head up suddenly and stared at him wide-eyed, half because of the surprise that he was not ignoring her out of awkwardness and half because she was afraid he would find out the truth. "Uh…I don't know," she fumbled, not wanting to give away that she knew exactly why Draco gave him a fat lip. "I never asked him, and even if I did, he probably wouldn't tell me."
Ron frowned, but looked considerably more relaxed than he had when he first sat down. "Hm, I thought you would have done some kind of investigating or interrogation or something. Stupid prat…just wait til I get my hands on that little son of a—"
"Ronald, you can't perform magic to get revenge," Hermione warned him in her authoritative voice, trying desperately to change the subject.
"But he gave me a gigantic lip!" the speckled Gryffindor shouted in outrage. "I'm not just going to let him have his fun our last year at Hogwarts—this is the year Harry and I get back at him for all he's done to us!"
"Just wait until summer, you'll have all the time you need then," she suggested hopefully.
"No way, we're going to humiliate him in front of the whole school!" Ron protested. "Right, Harry?"
"Yeah," he chimed in, "there's no way Malfoy is getting out of here without some kind of abnormality. If we're lucky, we can ship him off to St. Mungo's and never see him again, just like good ole' Lockheart!"
"Harry, that's an awful thing to say!" Hermione cried.
Harry and Ron stared at her, dumbfounded.
"Exactly," Ron began slowly, as if trying to explain something obvious to a dumb blond. "Malfoy is an awful git, therefore we will do something awful to him."
Afraid that her overly-inquisitive friends would catch on, Hermione fell silent. She didn't want to seem like she was protecting Draco, because only God knew why in the world she would do that, especially after what had just happened in the Head common room, but for some odd reason she felt compelled to keep him away from harm, just like he had done for her that summer. First would be the hatred she felt when he hexed Ron or did something equally enraging, and then, suddenly, as if her true feelings were surfacing, a voice inside would want to make sure that he was safe from her bad-tempered friends. The feelings were conflicting, but somehow added up. And she was having a right fit trying to keep all of them from mixing on the surface. Harry and Ron would think she'd gone loony, not to mention suicidal. If they knew any of the emotions raging inside of her at the moment, Hermione knew that there was no way a normal friendship could be salvaged. Becoming friendly, if that's what you would call it, with Draco Malfoy was just not something that could be accepted or understood, especially by two Gryffindors who were mortal enemies with the bloke. She feared that all would be lost if they knew the truth. Therefore, she decided, the truth would remain between herself and Twink, the only confidant she had who would not judge her. This thought only made her more depressed than she already was. Even her own self thought she was going batty. Why in the world did she want to protect Draco Malfoy?
Just as predicted, the exact feelings she was currently dwelling on came bubbling to the surface, part of the aftermath of her latest spat with Draco over the library book. Instead of wanting to attack every inch of his body she could lay her hands on, now Hermione wanted to make sure no one, not even herself, hexed him. And for some odd reason, she knew that she never would hex him. Perhaps that was just her logical, Head Girl instincts catching up with her, but either way, these strange feelings were beginning to scare her.
Knowing she was going to lose all capabilities for emotional self-control anytime now, Hermione abruptly stood from the table and trotted out the doors, walking as quickly as possible to her dorm. It was almost the time of night that Draco would write in his diary; if only she could get something out of it to confirm these insane feelings…perhaps the Slytherin King was feeling them too? If he kept to his routine, Hermione would know soon enough.
Before her quest for answers, though, the two Heads had some tutoring to catch up on. Neglecting to do their studies the night before proved to be extremely hindering in the precise schedule Hermione had constructed to keep them up to date. Now they had twice the workload and half the time. And it seemed that a certain blond-haired git didn't feel like showing up on time that particular evening. Hermione checked her watch for the twelfth time when Draco finally came strolling in at a quarter to seven.
"And just what makes you think you can just show up late to our tutoring session?" Hermione chastised once the door swung shut. "Just because you have no regards for schoolwork doesn't mean—"
"Would you shut that bloody mouth of yours for one second, Granger?" Draco cut her off, clearly irritated. "For your information, I just got back from having a nice little chat with McGonagall."
Oh no! Hermione thought, her eyes going wide. He actually went to her and asked to stop tutoring! She's going to think I'm a horrible teacher! I can't believe that prat!
"Erm…what did you talk about?" she asked nervously, biting her bottom lip.
"Well, I told her that you were an excellent teacher and that we had already gotten through all of my lessons. Therefore, I explained that we did not need to continue with our tutoring sessions," he answered. Hermione gazed at him in surprised amazement.
"You…you said I was an excellent teacher?" she asked quietly in awe.
"Don't flatter yourself, Granger, I only did it to suck up to McGonagall," Malfoy said, sneering. "She obviously already thinks that you are one, so I knew that coming from me it would mean something to the old bat. Didn't have to ask twice if we could end them." Draco glanced at her out of the corner of this eye, checking to see if she was buying all of this.
Now there were countless feelings flying through Hermione's mind: she was elated that Draco had complimented her, even if it was for his own benefit that he had spoke with McGonagall; she was slightly disappointed (although she had no clue why) that the tutoring sessions were now over; she was angry that Draco had lied to Professor McGonagall and that he had not included her in his plan; and finally, she was still feeling the overwhelming urge to protect him…but not only that, now she felt like she should be nice to him. Hermione was getting rather tired of all these conflicting emotions. She got dizzy thinking about them and held the sides of her head for a moment, as if trying to steady herself. This was not like her; it was not normal. Even Draco noticed her odd behavior. He glanced at her again, waiting for her to respond with some witty comeback. When none came he began to worry that she was processing some sort of idea. If that were so, he needed to distract her, make her lose her train of thought.
"You alright, Granger?" he said with narrowed eyes, almost like he was interrogating her instead of asking a simple question. He held a brief, comical smile. "That head of yours getting a bit too big to handle?"
Hermione glared up at him. Now the anger was back. "What in the world did you do that for? You are far, far away from being done with Arithmancy; we still have half of the book left! And what this about meeting secretly with Professor McGonagall?! Even coming from you, she's going to think I'm some half-wit who's given up on you!"
"Relax, she said it was fine," Draco replied nonchalantly. "Honestly, McGonagall has no idea that we haven't finished. She has no idea about anything, really."
Hermione did not catch on. "I don't care! Merlin's beard, I am not giving up on you, Draco Malfoy! You are going to finish these lessons if it kills me, and you are going to pass, and you are going to graduate!" She was now standing at full height, fists clenched tightly in determination. The Head Boy across from her looked utterly bewildered.
"I—I…Granger—"
"Here," Hermione said, pulling out a chair for him and pushing him down into it, "have a seat. We are going to go over everything you've missed and then some. I'm not giving up on you, Malfoy. I know you might think that we'll never be able to finish and that you're a lost cause or something, but you're not. You can do this, I know you can. And you don't need to make up stories about talking with Professor McGonagall just to slip out of it, alright? We may not like each other, but academics are more important that any arguments we've had."
Ahh, so that's it! Granger thinks I'm giving up because it's just too hard on me! That stupid Mudblood can't get anything through that thick skull of hers anymore, can she? I don't want to quit because it's difficult, I want to quit because it's pointless and I can. Just because Father thinks it will be a useful tool to help us become nice little pals doesn't mean I share the same sentiments. And I certainly am not doing it for the knowledge; I learned all I need to know growing up in the Malfoy Manor. But how am I going to convince Miss Perfect of that? She didn't take the first bait I offered, even though it was true. I suppose I'll have to resort to my old past-time. I'll lie.
"Listen, I'm not trying to get out of this because it's too difficult," Draco began firmly. "It's just that I've taken on a few extra classes and I'm tutoring with some other professors, so now I don't have the time. McGonagall said it was alright to take it back up this summer."
Hermione cocked her head slightly, looking confused. "You're taking more classes?"
"Yes, I am," he said coolly.
"Oh," she muttered, sounding dejected but vaguely impressed. "Well, then I suppose that's fine. I have some homework to do anyway."
Draco watched as Hermione retrieved her book bag and began scribbling on a piece of parchment that he guessed was for their upcoming Potions essay. His conjecture was confirmed when the ominous book from the library was brought to the tabletop and opened. At first, he wanted to reach out and snatch it to start another fight, but Draco kept his hands to himself this time. For some reason he felt as if he had hurt Hermione, but it wasn't enough for him to dwell on for more than a minute. He shook the feeling and got to his own studies.
"Anything yet, Twink?" Hermione asked her book-friend anxiously for the third time since she'd gotten into bed.
Twink sighed. "Not yet. Perhaps Mister Malfoy has already fallen asleep."
"No, he can't have, he always brushes his teeth right before he shuts off his lights," the Head Girl said assuredly. "I can hear the water running from here."
"Ooo, looks like someone has the little blondie's routine memorized!" the book teased laughingly.
"Hey, I have been living with the git for half a year, I'm bound to recognize some things!" Hermione jumped to her own defense. She thumbed through a few pages that had transformed themselves into sections from a Transfiguration book she needed for another essay. She had decided to get a head start while waiting for Draco's diary to appear, so Hermione was absentmindedly scribbling down notes and topic sentences while Twink kept her entertained.
"So why are you interested in what he's going to write tonight?" she asked Hermione, trying to sound nonchalant.
Twink's owner heaved a great sigh and closed the book so she could see her face. "Well, it's kind of a long story."
"So go on! Malfoy's not doing anything we care about yet, so let's hear it Missy!" the book chirped excitedly.
"Ok, well, I've been having these odd feelings lately and I can't explain them. One minute I want to mutilate Malfoy for one reason or another, and the next I feel like I need to protect him from Ron and Harry. One day I want to spend time with him, the next I can't get away from him quickly enough. I just don't understand it. He's been awful to me ever since I met him, and now it feels like I should be…I dunno, nice to him or something."
"Hmm…." Twink contemplated thoughtfully. "Well, there can only be two causes of these strange feelings, as far as I know anyway. One, for some reason unbeknownst to either of us, you have developed feelings for Malfoy, and seriously confusing ones at that. Or two, someone somewhere has placed a jinx upon you or slipped you something that is attempting to take you into the feelings of someone who likes Malfoy romantically, and out of your own emotions. I think I remember coming across a jinx like that a long time ago…"
"I'm certain it's not on my own accord!" Hermione exclaimed firmly. "There's no way I could feel that for—for that pureblood prick!" She spoke the last words with intense loathing and gave an involuntary shudder. After a pause, she continued.
"So you're saying that someone has bewitched me into liking Malfoy? And it's slowly but surely taking over my true feelings and replacing them?"
Twink nodded. "That's exactly what I think. Knowing you as well as I can for the amount of time we've spent together, I can tell that you really don't like this bloke, so I think we can rule out the first option. The only thing is, who would want you liking Malfoy?"
Hermione frowned. She was all for Twink's assumption moments before, but now that she actually thought it through, she could find no one in her realm of knowledge that would want her romantically interested in Draco Malfoy. The mere thought was miles beyond her comprehension; how could anyone fancy someone so cold-hearted and cruel?
"I have no idea," Hermione answered a little belatedly. "The only person I can think of is Malfoy himself, if just for some sick, twisted pleasure of seeing me finally admit to his insane notion that I fancy him."
"He thinks you like him?" Twink questioned, interest piqued.
"Does he ever! He repeats the phrase so often, I'm half expecting him to turn into a bloody parrot!" the bushy-haired girl answered, a look of exasperation on her pretty features. "Every time I see him, and I'm not exaggerating on that point, he's bound to ask, 'You fancy me, don't you, Granger? Like getting this close to me, do you? I knew you always fancied me," blah blah blah! I don't get why he believes that either, I've never given him an ounce of affection whatsoever in the seven years I've known him. Perhaps he just wants to know that he can attract all types of witches, even Mudbloods…"
Twink let out a small gasp. "Hermione, don't call yourself that! You're smarter and braver than any other witch I've ever met! That git can't even begin to compare with you, and don't you go thinking he's better just because he's got 'pure' blood! Besides, I'm sure he's just giving you a go, he seems to rather like ruffling your feathers."
Hermione gave a feeble smile at the compliment and then a small sigh. "Well, whatever these feelings are, I do hope they go away soon. I was perfectly happy with bickering and ignoring each other."
"I'm sure everything will go back to normal soon, Hermione. In the mean time, why don't I do a little searching for that jinx I'm thinking of? If we can find out what's causing all this ruckus, maybe we can get rid of it before any damage is done."
"Thanks, Twink, that would be great!" Hermione replied, beaming. "Can I still do my homework while you look? If not, it can wait."
"Oh sure! I can even keep talking while I look; I'm highly skilled in the area of multitasking, you know." The book gave a little wink, and the face shut its eyes and scrunched up its forehead, apparently concentrating very hard on something. At the same time, the book glowed a soft, golden color, lifted momentarily from Hermione's hands, and vibrated slightly. Then, all at once, it dropped back down and returned to smiling at its owner.
"What happened?" Hermione asked, looking worried. "Are you alright?"
Twink chuckled in amusement. "I'm fine! I just had to gear up my pages to prepare them for mass searching. I've cleared them of everything so there's ample room to search. Well, everything except your homework, of course."
"Wonderful! I'll get back to work, then, so you can look."
"Right! Wish me luck!"
Hermione did so with a grin, and then the two fell silent as they delved into their respective endeavors.
Suddenly, after a half hour of silent work, Twink squealed in excitement from her position on the front cover.
"Hermione! Quickly, to the front page, Malfoy's writing in his diary!"
All thoughts for Transfiguration and mysterious love charms were thrown out of Hermione's mind as she flipped to the page in mention, not needing another word of persuasion. Only one thought plagued her mind as her fingers clutched the edges of the worn book in anticipation: Did Malfoy feel the same way?
Hopelessly staring at the page Twink had told her to turn to, which had no writing on it, Hermione began to panic. This could not be a good sign. Where was the familiar slanted black writing?
"Twink, what's going on?!" she nearly yelled in a strangled voice. In utter desperation, Hermione picked up the book and glanced briefly at all sides of it, evidently thinking that Draco's words would appear on the outside covers or spine. Of course, they did not, and neither were they found on the still blank page at the very front of the book.
"I don't know!" Twink answered, clearly just as confused as Hermione. "He was writing, I swear I saw it! It was the date—"
Then, just as the Head Girl was about to fly from her room and barge into Draco's, slanted, black words began to appear at the top of the page, forming the date.
"Wait—there it is!" Hermione enthused. "Guess he took a break?"
Twink did not answer as the two of them focused solely on the writing they had been waiting for all evening.
October 17th
Had a run-in with the Weasel today. Shot him an Enlarging Jinx—he had a fat lip for the rest of the day! Made Granger pretty upset, so I suppose it did what I needed it to! Although, it is regrettable that she figured out why I had done it…but, then again, she is so bloody proud, gotta figure out everything all the time or the world falls apart…what a priss. Anyway, then she stole a book from me (her and her BOOKS!) and proceeded to run away from me. Sadly, but most amusedly, she forgot that I am much taller, and therefore much faster, so I caught her as soon as we got into the common room. Then, something peculiar happened. For some odd reason, I felt compelled to ask her whether being with me was better than being with Weasley! I've got no clue what I was thinking, but she said no, she liked the Weasel better. Some weird feeling came through me then, made me want to kill Weasley, actually kill him, just because of his connection with Granger. I wanted to…protect her from him. It was the strangest thing. Then she said she didn't want to kiss me. Imagine! Any woman turning down a Malfoy! It's lunacy, I tell you! But then I saw her at dinner tonight and I felt that weird protective emotion again when I saw that she was talking to Potter and Weasley. What she sees in them is beyond me…I can't shake this feeling, though. I don't feel like myself and now I want to be nice to Granger. Yeah, you heard me. NICE! SODDING NICE! There is something seriously deranged in my head. And to think, the stupid Mudblood doesn't even know about McGonagall. I gave her a clear hint tonight, but I don't think she caught it. I don't know why I gave her one, I just felt like she should know, but Father obviously won't like that…I wonder how his feeble little plan is going. He's probably forcing some old Deathbag into doing his bidding again. Yeah, like that'll work! I'm surprised nobody's found out about him, either, the way he carries on like a free man. But like I said, I'm staying out this time unless he tries to kill me again. Stupid man can't even do it right the first time, but then I guess that was partly Granger's doing. She is a rather effective distraction. At least it forced him to come to his senses and let me live! Well, I've got a Potions essay to write—bloody hell, that Mudblood's still got my book! More later.
Draco
Hermione shut the book after his name had finished penning itself. She stared at Twink, who stared right back. So many thoughts were going through her mind at the same time, and she had no idea where to start first.
"It looks like you were right, Twink," Hermione finally said. "Malfoy is having the exact same feelings that I am! I wonder who's doing this to us."
"I knew it was a jinx! I think I had just about found it when he started writing," Twink agreed with a hopeful smile. "Let me get back to searching and see if I can—"
"Wait!" the Head Girl interrupted, suddenly realizing something. "The last time Malfoy wrote, he said something about his father then, too…it sounds as if Lucius is trying to…Merlin's Beard, Twink, I think his father is trying to break out of Azkaban again!"
"Again?" the book said, shocked.
"Yes, he tried once before, over the…the summer," Hermione replied, stuttering a bit at the mention of the eventful holiday.
"He did?! Well, for Heaven's sake, girl, why didn't you tell me! What happened?"
"Well, it's an even longer story than the one I just told you," she warned half-heartedly, not really wanting to re-live the occasion for the second time that weekend.
"And…I'm guessing it's a little more complicated and troubling?"
Hermione laughed. "Yeah, just a little."
"You don't have to tell me, you know; only if you want to."
"No, you should know. Goodness knows I'm going to need help through this catastrophe that's about to unfold. And, knowing Malfoy, that would probably be an understatement."
Twink grinned. "Alright, then, let's hear this adventurous tale!"
Taking a deep breath, Hermione began to speak.
Unfortunately for them both, she did not get the chance to even form one word, for the subject of their conversation barged through the door at that precise moment.
Hermione let out a yelp and tried to pull up her covers as fast as she could. In her haste, though, she suddenly tumbled over the edge of her bed and landed in a heap on the floor, lost amidst the fluffy down comforter. Twink was unceremoniously thrown aside as well, and was now laying face-down across the room.
"Malfoy—what'er you—where did you go—?!" Hermione shouted in all directions, completely blind under the darkness of the duvet. She heard a stifled snicker and a rustling of paper, which she guessed were coming from the top of her bed, and then heavy footsteps approaching her. In one swift motion, the comforter was lifted off her head and put back on the bed.
"Having fun under there, Granger?" Draco grinned down at her.
Giving him a glare, Hermione didn't respond, but simply stared at him with narrowed slits for eyes. They opened quite wide, though, when she noticed the book resting in his arms. That explained the rustling of sheets; he had sifted through the parchment on her bed.
"Hey, I wasn't finished with that, Malfoy!" she growled, standing up to face him.
"Well, I seem to recall that I wasn't finished with it either when you decided to steal it from me," he retaliated.
"I did not steal it!" Hermione shouted indignantly, her mouth a hard line and fists clenched by her sides.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I must have mistaken your snatching it and running quickly away for some type of silly 'catch me' type of game!" Draco smirked at her glowering form.
"What are you doing in here?" she changed the subject abruptly.
"Getting my book, of course," he answered, holding it up and staring at her as if she were daft. "And now I'll be leaving." He turned to do so when she reached out and stopped him by grabbing his arm.
"Wait!"
Draco looked back at her, eyebrows rose in surprise. "Well, well, aren't we very friendly tonight. I thought you didn't fancy me, Granger. Or has that changed now?"
"Belt up, Malfoy!" Hermione sneered angrily. She was in no mood to deal with his insane theories. After taking a deep breath, she finished. "Look, I just need to…erm, well, there's something I need to ask you, actually." She released his arm finally and glanced down at her feet, unwilling to meet his gaze.
Confused and curious at the same time, Draco scrutinized her carefully, trying to figure out if this was some type of ploy to get the book back. She seemed to read his mind.
"And no, I'm not trying to get the sodding book back!" she said as she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.
"Alright, Granger, I'm listening." Draco took a seat on the edge of her bed and waited, eyeing her warily.
Hermione began wringing her hands together nervously and paced a little in the space around her bed, apparently thinking over how she was going to word her question.
Oh, just get on with it, will you? I haven't got all night to watch you work yourself into a sweat, Mudblood. It can't be that important, can it? Probably just some idiotic question about whether or not McGonagall has grown another inch or appendage… Draco silently thought to himself as he watched her move about rapidly.
"Listen, am I going to be spending the night here, or are you going to ask me your bloody question?" he said in exasperation.
Hermione stopped pacing and turned to face him, an annoyed frown on her face. "Fine, then, I'll just come right out and say it," she obliged. Looking him straight in the eye, and wearing a very serious expression, she said, "I think someone has jinxed us."
Draco stared at her blankly, evidently under the impression that she was kidding. "You think someone has jinxed us." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes, I do," Hermione confirmed once again. "Haven't you been having some odd feelings lately?"
He stopped fiddling with his hands and snapped his head up to look at her, his steely grey eyes wide. How does she know about that?! I thought I was hiding those stupid feelings rather well! Draco thought frantically.
"No, I'm not having odd feelings, Granger!" he spat irritably. Hermione put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him, as if trying to see into his mind.
"You know, for someone with years of practice on their side, you don't make a convincing liar when you're alone."
He glared at her hard, and she stared right back. They were like that, unblinking, for a few moments until Draco looked away, his fists balling at his sides. He was quiet, then spoke in a soft but bitter tone.
"So what are we going to do?"
Hermione let her hands drop to her sides as she eased up away from him. She gave a small smile at the top of his head; Draco was staring determinedly at the floor, anywhere but her face.
"Well, I've been having them too, so I decided to do a little research on the subject."
Draco snorted a little too loudly and muttered, "Surprise, surprise."
Hermione rolled her eyes and continued. "Anyway, I've been looking up jinxes and charms and stuff, most of them concerning love spells and mind tampering." She was almost pleading with him to make some sort of input now, he could tell. Sighing, he obliged her.
"And? Have you found anything useful yet?"
"Well, no, not yet. I just figured this out today, Malfoy! How in the world am I supposed to have found the cure yet? I don't even know what jinx has been used on us!" she replied, frustrated with herself and him.
Draco let out a low growl of irritation. "Bloody hell, Granger, you just set me up for that!"
"What?" her question was quick and sharp; she had been pacing again, deep in thought.
"It seems to me that you just want someone to let your anger out on!" he snarled, getting back up. "Well you can forget that, I'm going to bed."
"Wait, Malfoy, no!" Hermione yelped suddenly, grabbing his upper arm. Her small hand was nothing against his well-shaped biceps, but he stopped all the same.
"I…didn't mean it, I'm just frustrated with whoever did this to us. I wish I knew what it was or—or something!" she cried, throwing up her hands in defeat and plopping down on the bed. Her body sagged into a slumped posture.
"Look…," Draco began, feeling uncommonly sympathetic. He also felt like…protecting her, and he was painfully aware of it. He suddenly felt a surge of anger similar to Hermione's. He wanted these emotions gone, no matter who sent them or what their motive was. "I'll help you look if you want. We can go to the library after classes tomorrow."
She glanced up to see him standing directly in front of her, his brows furrowed in anticipation over what she'd say. Hermione couldn't resist the same feeling to protect that Draco was being influenced by, so she was oddly comfortable with him looking at her that way. It was as if they had never been sworn enemies at all. And it wasn't just protection anymore, she felt something else bubbling up inside of her—attraction. Romantic attraction.
It wouldn't have been so bad if Hermione hadn't been clearly aware of the fact that they were not real feelings. Now that she knew it was all the cause of some random jinx, her brain consciously understood the emotions to be false. Unfortunately, that did not lessen their effect on her. Try as she might, there was no fighting them. She wondered if Draco was getting them at the same time as her.
"Do you feel that?" she barely whispered, staring straight into his glassy orbs.
He gulped and breathed deeply, staring back again. Draco nodded almost imperceptibly, but Hermione saw it.
"I feel immensely attracted to you, Granger," he said, sounding surprised himself.