Best Kept Secret

Chapter 7

Draco Malfoy pounded his fist against his Head of House's portrait. "Severus!" he pounded again. He knew the Potions Master was in there and couldn't figure out what was taking him so long to answer the door. I was crucial that he rant and now.

Finally, after what felt like minutes, there was rustling and the door opened to a very discontent Snape. "What is it, Draco?"

The blonde had pushed past him and into the room. He didn't bother to ask but took out the largest glass he could and poured the fire whiskey. "Don't expect her to be showing up to her detention tonight." He muttered bitterly.

"Expect who?" Snape smoothed his hair back and looked hard at his God Son, wondering if he was truly here and he wasn't still dreaming.

"Granger." He sneered and offered Snape a glass. The elder man refused and beckoned Malfoy to sit.

"Draco," he spoke after the boy had finished his glass. "I'm concerned."

"About what?" the younger male mumbled, rising to get another glass. He felt his skin warm up as the liquid burned his throat.

"You and your infatuation with Granger," Snape immediately regretted his words with the cold fury in Draco's voice.

"You're mistaken. I could care less about Potter's retched pet." He didn't turn to face the older man; instead he gritted his teeth together, shaking his head for good measure and taking a quick gulp of alcohol.

"I see…" Snape pulled at his shoulder and stared at him, scrutinizing him. He shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and shrugged out of his grip.

"I assure you, I loath that Mudblood whore just the same as you did Potter," he sneered at Snape, taking another drink.

"That certainly is a relief," Snape drawled, taking the bottle from his student and placing it back underneath the cupboard. "Otherwise…"

"I know the consequences, Severus. I'm as familiar with the Prophecy as you are." He dropped the empty glass into his hands before striding past him to his arm chair where he brooded for a few minutes. Snape let a defeated sigh pass his lips and he joined the blonde in a spell of silence.

"Your father was concerned since First Year. When you came home that summer," Severus flicked nonexistent flecks off his armchair. "and you told him all about Granger and her Muggle parents."

Draco gave him an icy glare that would freeze hell, "It. Is. Not. Me." And no matter what Snape tried to talk about, Draco didn't say another word the whole night.

"Hermione!" Ronald whispered to get her attention before she went upstairs. She started, whirling around to face him, willing her face to stay one shade long enough for her to get to her room.

"Hey," he smiled at her and shoved his hands into his pockets out of nervousness. She gave him a smile that never quite reached her eyes. "What did the ferret want?"

She fought the red in her cheeks and quickly thought. "Oh it he just…wanted me to do his History of Magic homework."

"What a prat." Ron sneered, leaning against the stair railing, his hands still shaking slightly. He neglected to remember the many times he had to copy Hermione's homework in the morning to keep from failing his classes. "It took you a while." He muttered sheepishly.

"Well," she placed her hand on his to stop it from shaking. He'd be nervous around her for a while but she expected it. "Malfoy doesn't like to ask for help. Especially from someone like me, and when I denied him," she paused, taking a deep breath. "It took him a while to get the message."

"Oh. Well, I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow?" he asked, leaning forward onto his toes and rocking back on to his heels, fighting his blushing habit. "I'll save you a seat."

She chuckled, "You always do, Ronald."

"Well, yeah." He looked at his feet and shifted his weight, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. She leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"That would be lovely. Goodnight." And she ran up the stairs, missing the grin on his face and the joyful way he leapt up the stairs to his rooms.

The next day ran by quickly and Hermione Granger had nearly forgotten her absence from Detention the night before. With Malfoy and Ronald constantly swimming in her head and passing though her line of site, it was easy for a girl to become so forgetful. She was mortified when her Potion's Master so cruelly reminded her of her punishment for earlier that week. He informed her that she would be serving her final sentence in his classroom after the Quidditch Match that evening.

"I feel so foolish." She blushed red, dropping her head onto her desk. Snape had drifted to his Study, expecting the children to behave the last few minutes of class.

"Don't 'Mione. You're allowed to forget something every so often." Ronald placed his hand on hers and smiled.

"Unless of course it's to do your own homework; then we'd worry," Harry gave her a nudge and the three laughed. She would never in her life forget the feeling she would have when she was with Harry and Ron. She knew true friendship with them and she was able to ignore the gaze digging into the back of her head and lace her fingers with Ronald's. Love wasn't a word she used that often. She preferred other words and motions of affection. The L word was a big leap in her head.

"We'll walk you to detention after the game. It's your last night isn't it?" Ron questioned, brushing her hair back, enjoying how he could freely touch her now.

"Merlin, I hope so. If not I'll just stay later to make up for it. I need to study for the Charm's test tomorrow night." She sighed and leaned back in her chair, pushing her skirt down with her free hand.

"You know you'll do wonderfully, 'Mione. Why not spend the evening with your best mates?" Harry offered, quirking his eyebrows in his pleading manner; Hermione found it hard to say no.

"Well…I suppose I could." She smiled playfully at the two, blushing when Ronald kissed the side of her head affectionately.

He hated her laugh. He hated how she smiled, talked, and bloody well everything else. He sneered at her bushy head and looked away when Weasley kissed the side of her head. It was disgusting.

He was so thankful when the bell sounded, that he was the first out the door and heading towards the Great Hall.

"You sure bolted out of Potion's, Malfoy." Blaise Zabini sat next to him minutes later with his girlfriend. "Something bothering you?" It seemed innocent enough, but Draco knew better than to reveal anything to Zabini.

"Hungry." He stuffed his mouth with a forkful of fish to avoid further conversation until Jason Quills slammed his hands onto the table across from him. He looked determined.

"I'm takin' bets, mates." His hair was cut short and spiked up for some bizarre reason and Draco nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.

"What in the bloody hell happened to your hair?!" Zabini roared with laughter, tears spilling out the creases on his eyes. He quieted down when Quills glared viciously at him.

"My sister decided my hair was too long," he answered simply, a tint of shame in his tone. "Regardless, bets on the game. Are you in or out?"

Draco reached into his pocket and dropped a few coin on the table. "Fifty on Gryffindor." He scowled. "Ravenclaw hasn't won since Potter became Seeker."

"Fair bet, Malfoy. Now excuse me while I sucker some first years into a bad bet." And Jason left. You could hear him moments later, proclaiming that the Ravenclaw Seeker was bound for greatness.

He sat and waited for nearly everyone to head down to the pitch before beginning the journey there himself. Jesse Quill slid into step with him outside the castle.

"Did you like my brother's hair?" She smirked over at the blonde, hopping down the stone steps one by one, too cheerful for a Slytherin.

"It was quite brilliant, Jess," he waited for her at the bottom, like a gentleman should, and they proceeded.

"Mm…it was actually for his own good. He looked like an ugly wet dog with that shaggy hair." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and watched a passing group of Ravenclaws, waving at a particularly skinny one. Draco shook his head.

"Honestly, a Slytherin dating a Ravenclaw. Unspeakable." She shot him a look and spoke with unfaltering pride, finding it, in the back of his mind, ironic.

"At least he's not a Mudblood." And she gave him a curt farewell and chased after her boyfriend, leaving him to wallow in his thoughts until he reached the pitch.

He looked up at the full stands and wandered towards the most vacant one.

Ginny Weasley had her arm lazily looped with Hermione's as they hopped along towards stands. "Ginny! Hermione! This one over here!" Parviti Patail called for them and they followed her towards one of the last empty stands. Behind them, several more students were heading their way.

"So how is Ronald treating you?" she asked her older friend, the cold weather freezing the tip of her nose. She was use to it by now of course.

"Wonderfully," Hermione said, thankful for the cold rush that reddened her cheeks. She tightened her jacket as they neared the stairs. "A little nervous still, but he'll get better."

She smiled and looked up the many steps. "Honestly if I wasn't so scared of flying…" Hermione trailed off as they began up the steps.

"Granger!" her breath rushed out of her as she whirled around, looking down at the Slytherin. He didn't say anything, yet she turned to Ginny and pulled her arm out of hers. Ginny's eyes were cold as she stared at their enemy with hatred.

"Save me a seat. I'll only be a moment." She smiled reassuringly at her hesitant friend and took a step down to face him. She heard Ginny run up the steps but her attention was quickly drawn to the uneasy looking blonde.

"What do you want?" She didn't realize her red-headed friend had waited just up the next flight of stairs to listen in with one of her brothers extendable ears. She always kept one handy.

He brushed his hair back with his hand, realizing he didn't know what to say. He didn't even mean to call out for her. "I wanted to talk…" he began but she stopped him.

"There's nothing for us to talk about, Malfoy." She took her stance and glowered at him, willing her breath to come back to her. The cold affected him too, making his lips tremble and his hair fly about messily. He didn't say anything for awhile, glancing behind him and looking at anything but her.

Aggravated, she let out a huff of impatience and turned to go back up the stairs but he clutched her arm, pulling her back down.

"Listen to me, Mudblood." He snarled, not taking lightly to her brushing him off. "I'm not finished talking yet. When I talk, you listen to me, understood?"

"Don't tell me what to do!" She jerked her arm free and scowled at him, wishing to high heavens he would disappear that instant. Her friend was waiting for her and she didn't want to end up in another scuffle with him.

He sneered fiercely and closed the gap between them, staring down his pointed nose at her. "You know, Mudblood. You're rather lucky to have been caught up with me this past month."

She chortled with an air of doubt, "Really? And what's the benefit of having you stalk me?"

"Stalk?" He scoffed. "I was not stalking you. I was observing you." The tone of his words clearly exposed his lie. Her stomach churned and she wanted to push him down the steps and run.

"One hell of an observer you are." She drawled in a fashion he was famous for, wanting to cover her mouth when he smirked at her.

"It seems you've been observing as well." She glared at him and he pressed on. "What I'm saying is that our little encounters…are a thing of the past."

"Really now? And why should I believe you this time?" she scowled bitterly, weary of the voice of students growing closer.

"Because I'm done with you, Mudblood," he leaned forward, his breath puffing against her lips. His voice dropped to a cold whisper that made her inhale sharply. "I don't need you. I don't want you."

She opened her mouth to retaliate but couldn't find the words, the harshness in his stare causing her to swallow her own biting comment. His hand hovered over her cheek, as though he wanted to touch her one last time but hit a blockade and couldn't for the life of him.

Finally after moments of silence that was broken by the loud voices of another wave of students, he whispered more to himself than her, "I'm finished…" he swallowed the lump in his throat, showing, for the first time, that he could be nervous and uneasy. Had she not been staring in his eyes so intently, she'd have noticed.

She closed her eyes when the cold rushed back against her face. His warm body having vacated from her as fast as his feet would carry him.

"'Mione?" Ginny timidly poked her head out from her hiding place, her eyes wide with disbelief; the extendable ear in her hands.

"Gin. I. It wasn't what... Bullocks." Hermione covered her face with her hands; feeling the red tint soak into her skin. She was so ashamed.

"Bullocks is right." The red-head gave her a look that rivalled her mothers.

"Dammit!" He snarled and shoved a younger year out of his way, his chest burned painfully and he stormed past the group of students, no longer interested in the Quidditch Game. He glared up as cheers erupted behind him, signalling the start of the match. He watched the brilliant red hair of Ron Weasley fly to his post as Keeper.

With a sneer, he flicked and swished his wand in his direction, smirking satisfied with the fact that Granger's new toy would be battling to keep his clothing on during the match.

"Surprised to see me again?" he drawled to Professor Snape, entering his classroom and sitting in the teacher's seat. The greasy haired man gave him a scolding look when the young Malfoy propped his feet up on the desk. "Don't look at me like that," he scowled, smoothing his hair back.

Severus knocked his feet off his desk, his face twisting into an ugly glower. Malfoy knew he had pushed too far so he simply stood and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"I…took care of Granger." He picked up one of the empty vials and spun it around his fingers elegantly, a nervous tick he had developed over the years but would rather die than admit having.

"Did you now?" Snape's dark voice still echoed with annoyance as he brushed down the dirt on his desk.

"I won't be the one who disgraces the Malfoy name. The Prophecy isn't about me." He placed the vial back down rather forcefully and leaning onto the desk, his hair falling out of place.

"Good. Then you'll be able to handle detention with her tonight." Snape flipped open a book and scanned through it, searching for the next potion he would make his students attempt to brew.

"Why? Send her to McGonagall."

"I thought," Snape smirked cruelly, "You took care of her." Malfoy snorted and crossed his arms, glaring at the Potion's Professor. "Besides, all of the others have their hands full with Students. Seeing as I issued the detention, it is only fair that you serve your final sentence with me."

Malfoy's never, ever whine so Draco settled for staring at his Potion's Master, waiting to make him uncomfortable enough to break him. He would do this often with his mother and occasionally Pansy Parkinson.

"It isn't working, Draco." Snape said, not lifting his head from his book. The said boy leaned back in his chair annoyed, waiting for Snape to finish with his work.

When he did, he shut the book silently and stared at the blonde. "How did it start?"

"Did what start?" Hermione asked Ginny, responding to her out of the blue question. Harry zoomed by them on his broom, smiling and waving over towards them. Hermione cheered and clapped, smiling at him but it didn't faze Ginny.

"Your relationship with Ron," Ginny hissed, fully aware of the gossiping girls sitting behind them and being wise enough not to expose Hermione's sordid love affair to the public.

Hermione shot her friend a look of confusion but the stern look on her face revealed what she had meant. "Oh…that." She blushed and tried to avoid the question.

"Well, after potions one day," she shot Ginny a look of desperation but the Weasley's gaze didn't falter. "And we were fighting and he…kissed me." She looked at her hands ashamedly and stared blankly at the Quidditch Field. "And then, a few days later," she swallowed the nervous lump and tucked her hair behind her ear. "He confronted me…"

"I told her to keep her filthy mouth shut." He tilted his chair back on two legs, looking indifferent to Snape but inside he was a mess. "I called her a whore or something to that effect and she tried to silence me by…" he turned his head away, reluctant to say the next word but his Professor understood.

"Disgusting." He growled and Draco nodded in agreement.

"Only," he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his fingers against his lips, "I couldn't control it, Severus. I'd find her and I wouldn't be able to stop…and it would escalated."

"And then it gets physical…" She felt nauseous but Ginny's determination wouldn't falter. Her eyes softened when Hermione wrapped her arms around herself.

"It's okay, 'Mione. He didn't…" she placed her hand on her older friends, giving her courage to press on.

"Oh no." She blushed and shook her head violently. "It hasn't gotten that far. The thing that scares me is…I couldn't control myself. He'd be there and his lips…" she stammered uncertain.

A smile was tugging at Ginny's lips and Hermione was about to snap at her when there was commotion on the field. Ronald Weasley was squirming and struggling on his broom for some reason, shouting out at no one in particular.

His robe flew straight up over his head, untangling itself from his neck and fell to the ground, his shirt following right after. His entire body flushed red as the Slytherin's laughed and chortled. The Gryffindor's, while finding it quite amusing, knew that the balance of the game held in the ability to unfluster Ronald Weasley. So they cheered and chanted the name Weasley; even when his trousers freed themselves from his body, leaving him in his bright blue boxers.

"And I stopped it. She can shag that fool Weasley all she wants and it doesn't matter to me in the least" he glanced out the window at the noise from the Quidditch Pitch and he smirked.

"Congratulations," Snape scowled and looked out his insanely small window. "It appears Weasley is nude on the field." He stated just as one would state the weather.

"No, his skivvies will stay on. Merlin knows no one wants to see that." Draco examined his nails and smiled inwardly.