Here's a Christmastime update for my loyal readers. I won't be posting any updates for a couple of weeks, as I've got several trials at work. (Say a little prayer that I win)
As always, post concrit/suggestions/things you liked, and thank you to the sweeties who added me to story alert/favourite stories list.
Ron's face turned mottled-red as his eyes flickered between Hermione and Malfoy. Harry looked embarrassed and hung back in the doorway. An oddly strangled sound escaped Ron's throat, reminding Hermione of a bull readying to charge.
"Yes?" Hermione demanded.
"Him!" Ron bellowed, sticking out his wand at Malfoy. "What did you do, Ferret-face? Amortentia? That's it, isn't it? I'll kill you, Malfoy, trying to bag my Hermione..."
"Your Hermione?" she asked tartly.
"Ron, calm down..." Harry said lamely.
"How terrifying! Death threats from the thickest, weakest member of the Golden Trio," Draco retorted simultaneously.
"Shut up, all of you!" Hermione bellowed. "Put away your wand or I'll take it, Ronald."
"I saw the article!" Ron shouted. "The one in Witch Weekly of you and... him!"
"That came out nearly three days ago. A little slow on the uptake, as always, Weasley." Draco sipped his wine. "Even my parents made it out here before you two wonders. I can see you'll make excellent Aurors."
"Fuck you, Malfoy!" Ron shouted. "We have other priorities! We don't just arse around planning lessons and reading dusty books..."
He seemed to realize what he'd just said and went silent. Hermione's brown eyes stared him down, and he shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.
"Pardon me, Ronald?" Hermione asked icily.
"Erm, well... I'm just saying, Hermione, I'm right busy..." He had the good sense to look embarrassed.
"Oh, yes, we were just reading about how busy you are, Weasley." Malfoy smirked.
"Be quiet, Malfoy," Hermione snapped. "You're not helping."
Malfoy smiled sweetly back at her. "You can call me by my first name, Sweet Pea. There's no need to pretend now that we've gone public."
Hermione turned to him so Ron and Harry couldn't see - not that they would've noticed, with their wide, agog expressions trained firmly on Malfoy.
"Sweet Pea?" she mouthed.
Draco moved close to her, as if to whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
"Play along," he whispered.
"See, Harry! He's charmed her! He's whispering orders into her ear... oh Merlin, maybe he's Imperiused her!"
"Are you suggesting that Hermione is incapable of defending herself, Weasel?" Draco asked.
It was Ron's final straw. He growled and dove toward Malfoy. Hermione lifted her wand and, with a flick of her wrist, shot the Sponge-Knees Curse at him. Ron skidded to a halt and grabbed one of Hermione's armchairs to keep from falling.
"Stop it, the both of you. Draco, you know Ron is rather impulsive. Stop taunting him."
"I'm sorry, Darling. I let myself get carried away."
God, Hermione thought, he sounded perfectly sincere, down to the contrite gaze on his pointy face. She glanced at Ron; he stared piteously back at her. At one time it might've made her feel sorry for him, but right now, after his suggestion that all she did was arse around here with dusty books, she felt nothing but annoyance.
"Hermione." Ron sighed deeply. "I thought there was something there between you and I."
"You mean a drunken foursome between you, her, and a pair of Knockturn Alley strippers?" Malfoy asked. "Somehow that doesn't seem Hermione's style."
Ron's face flushed. He opened his mouth, shut it, and opened it again, as if deciding whether to speak. "Ah... I didn't think you'd seen that picture. Hermione doesn't usually read the Prophet's Celebrity section."
"But I do," Malfoy replied. "I know it's difficult for you to comprehend how one could enjoy reading something other than lad mags."
"You scheming bastard. You told her about that article! You did it to drive her into your arms!" Ron growled through clenched teeth, still clutching at the armchair. "Hermione, this is the racist, Dark Magic-loving slime we hated in school! How can you even look at him?"
"Ronald... people change."
And as she said it, she knew it was true. Ron had changed. She had changed. Malfoy had changed too - somehow, for the better. Even if she wasn't actually dating Malfoy, she no longer hated him. He was mean and sarcastic - but admittedly, she found him rather witty. She and Blaise laughed at his sour temper and snide jokes over their morning rashers and tea.
"So you're really okay with Malfoy?" Harry finally spoke. "You're giving him a second chance?"
Hermione hesitated, then nodded.
"Well... be careful," Harry murmured.
"I can't believe you, Harry," Ron squawked. "Doesn't anyone care?"
"No," Hermione snapped. "Because I'm a grown woman."
She pointed her wand at Ron and he cringed - but she simply released the curse. He crossed his arms and stood against the wall, refusing to make eye contact with any of them.
It was during this silent, awkward standoff that Blaise appeared at the door.
"Where are you, you big prat - oh, damn, didn't mean to interrupt. I wondered where Draco had gotten to." Blaise's eyes flickered around the tense room and finally settled on Draco. "Erm, are we still on for the Three Broomsticks?"
"See, Potter, Weasley? We have plans. So if you don't mind, why don't you run back to dormitories."
"Are you satisfied, Ron? I told you she was fine and you should've just sent an owl." Harry sighed. "Why don't you go chat with the Headmistress a bit? I want to talk with Hermione for a minute while you calm down."
Ron glowered extra-hard for a moment before stomping out. Blaise and Malfoy, recognizing they should go without being asked, ducked out after him.
"Hermione, you're not seriously dating Malfoy, are you?" Harry asked. "He's hasn't changed that much, and neither have you."
Hermione shrugged. "No, of course I'm not. We're work colleagues. You know Malfoy - he can't pass up an opportunity to irritate someone he dislikes, and he really dislikes Ron."
"But he's been treating you okay? Malfoy, that is?"
"Actually, considering it's Malfoy, we've been getting along well."
Harry nodded, and Hermione felt his green eyes searching her face worriedly.
"Really, Harry. Blaise, Malfoy and I are getting along well." She smiled. "I suppose I should run after Ron and tell him the truth."
"Maybe you should wait... just let him stew for a couple of days." Harry's brow furrowed. "I'm hoping it'll be a wake-up call. He's been doing everything to excess lately - drink, drugs, partying. But he always expected you to wait for him. He was shocked when he thought you might be dating someone else."
"I'm sure the fact that it was Malfoy didn't help," Hermione added.
"You should've seen it." Harry laughed softly. "He was hung over from a fifth of cheap rye and the owl had just swooped by to drop off his academic probation. He decided to read about himself in the Celebrity section - he's a bit narcissistic that way - but ended up reading that you and Malfoy were an item. He nearly vomited."
"Serves him right." Hermione pursed her lips to keep from saying more. "You want to come for a drink?"
"I can't. Unlike Ron, I've taken my training seriously. I've got training at half six in the morning." He paused. "I'm glad you're on decent terms with those two Slytherin twats. I sometimes worry about you here by yourself."
"Hey, hey, don't forget about me." She punched him playfully on the arm. "I still like you better than the Slytherin twats."
He grinned, gave her a hug and went to the door. "I'll owl you."
The door shut behind him with a bang. Relief washed over her. Finally - time to herself, time to unwind. She settled into the sofa, savouring the rare moment of quiet.
Until thirty seconds later, when the door squawked open again.
"Argh, what do you want this time?"
Malfoy stuck his head in and smirked. "Your idiot pals are gone?"
"Yes, and no thanks to you. What happened to 'let's not have any more photo-ops because it's gotten complicated'? Sweet Pea?"
"I couldn't help myself. Weasley is so bloody arrogant. It's so easy to put him in his place." Draco shrugged. "Besides, you can't tell me that foul-mouthed lush doesn't deserve it."
She didn't deny it. "It complicates things, though."
"Life is complicated. It was worth it to see the self-satisfied grin wiped off his ugly face." He grinned and shut his eyes, obviously replaying it in his mind's eye. "What about Potter?"
"I told him the truth - that we're just work colleagues. Harry knows I'd never date you."
"You didn't tell him about our little deal?"
Hermione felt her face flush - why hadn't she told Harry about her plan to get rid of Malfoy? A stark realization suddenly hit her - she didn't really care if Malfoy left anymore. She no longer cared whether there was a reward for their outings. Somewhere along the way, he had shifted from Malfoy, intolerable racist prick to Malfoy, often-prickish colleague.
"So Potter thinks we're just coworkers. Weasel thinks we're dating. My father knows the truth, and my mother thinks we're practically married." He frowned. "You're right, that is unnecessarily complicated."
"Ugh. We should just come clean."
"Stop over-thinking, Granger. Owl Weasley tomorrow and tell him that I was taking the piss." He gestured to the door. "You still coming to the pub?"
"I figured you were just inviting me for show."
"I was, but we both need a drink, after the way this idiotic idea's unraveled," he said. "But don't make a habit of inviting yourself along, Sweet Pea. Remember, we're only fake dating. I don't want to have to break your heart at the end of this."
"Believe me, Malfoy, there's no chance of that," she replied. "Ever. Even with Amortentia or Imperius."
He snorted.
Blaise stuck his head in. "Can you two stop flirting and get out here? I've been waiting all day for a gin and soda."
The three of them hurried out of the castle for Hogsmeade together.
