CatB: New chappie, hurray! There is some Draco in this chapter, never fear! (And I'm sorry that the last chapter was so freaking boring.)

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. I've told you this in some form or fashion six times already (or more if you've read my other stories XD), when are you going to get it? /has no more ideas for disclaimers

That evening, when I stepped into the Great Hall for dinner, my eyes immediately sought out Harry and Ron. As soon as I found them, I hurried over ad slid in next to Harry.

"Hello," I said brightly. Both boys turned to stare at me.

"Er, hi," Harry said at last, looking from Ron to me and back again.

"What do you want?" Ron snapped, stabbing the roast beef with more force than I personally thought was necessary.

Taken aback by his less than friendly reception, I said meekly, "I just wanted to say-that is, you should know that I-I broke up with Smith."

Ron's faced showed no emotion at this news. Harry, however, grinned broadly and said, "That's great! Isn't it great, Ron?" He nudged Ron, whose face was still blank.

I sighed inwardly. Honestly, how stubborn was he? At least I had told him about the breakup before he heard it from someone else. Didn't that count for anything?

"…can't tell you how much we missed you today, Hermione," Harry was saying when I tuned back in. "Or, uh, how much I missed you, anyway," he amended hastily, glancing at Ron.

"I missed you, too. Both of you." I tried to catch Ron's eye when I said this.

"So, what sorts of things did you get up to today?" Harry asked.

"Well, I worked on the Potions and Transfiguration essays this morning," I began, "and then I got in some practice for Charms, read three chapters of the History of Magic assignment-"

Harry stopped me by putting up his hand. "Typical Hermione." This statement was accompanied by an eye roll and another grin. I thought I saw a small smile appear on Ron's face as well, but it was gone before I could be sure.

I quickly seized on what Harry had said. "Yeah, you know me," I said casually. "I never miss a chance to get work done. That hasn't changed." I looked pointedly at Ron, who finally met my eyes, if only for a split second.

"Anyway, what did you two do in Hogsmeade?" I directed this query to Ron, hoping he was willing to talk to me at last. To my surprise, he was. Shrugging, he told me about their adventures in Honeydukes (where they had both tried a chocolate-covered dung beetle) and their observations in The Three Broomsticks (where Lavender had had a hard time keeping her eyes off of him). He got more and more into the conversation as he went on, I noticed. My pointing out that things were still relatively the same seemed to cheer him up immensely. Did he really think I was acting that differently? I mean, aside from not wanting to kill Malfoy as much as usual, everything was as it had always been, wasn't it?

At about this time, I suddenly began to feel as though someone was watching me. Turning, I found myself facing the Slytherin table, and, more specifically, Yuzihan. She was not looking at me, however, she seemed busy whispering something in the ear of one Draco Malfoy.

I narrowed my eyes at her, thinking back to our dialogue earlier that day.

"He wanted me to find out why you weren't going to Hogsmeade…he's always sending me to do things for him."

Funny, it didn't look as though she was regretting her choice of friends now…

And then it clicked. I could have smacked myself, I felt so stupid.

"Of course!" I whispered to myself. Yuzihan was only pretending to be sick of Malfoy…but why? What purpose could all of her whining to me have served? Recalling the growing impatience I felt as she blabbered on about her problems, the answer became clear: She had been stalling for time, trying to figure out exactly what I was up to in the seventh-floor corridor. Following this line of thinking, I realized that someone must have entered the Room of Requirement behind me that short while later. Whether it was Yuzihan or Malfoy, I couldn't be sure, but I would have bet Galleons that it had been Malfoy. If he had heard my instructions, I reasoned, he would have been able to get in without a problem.

If my reasoning was indeed correct, I resented him, viewing his actions as little more than an invasion of my privacy. Why exactly was he so keen on knowing what I did with my free time, anyway? If he was trying to confuse me more than he already had, well, he was succeeding.

I felt myself beginning to shake ever so slightly. I wanted nothing more than to storm over to the Slytherin table and confront him, but of course I couldn't. Harry and Ron would probably be so alarmed by my accusations that they would never let me out of their sight again, which would be worse than dating Smith had been, because Smith, at least, wasn't in the same House as me.

"Hermione, are you okay?"

I blinked, focusing on Ron's concerned face. "What? Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" There was a hint of worry in Harry's voice. "You're sort of shaking…"

"I'm really okay," I assured my two friends. "I promise."

Though both looked skeptical, they began a long-winded discussion about Quidditch, leaving me to my thoughts again.


Breakfast on Sunday morning started out quite lovely. Not only were Harry and Ron my friends once more, I was also unable to find Malfoy anywhere at the Slytherin table. This pleased me because I was sick of the blond boy invading my thoughts, sick of feeling so conflicted about him, and I was certain that the expression "out of sight, out of mind" would apply very nicely to the whole situation.

In fact, I was feeling so charitable that I offered to help Harry and Ron with the essays that I had started the pervious morning. I had just pulled the rough draft of my Transfiguration essay out of my bag to show them when I noticed identical looks of loathing on their faces. The reason for their disgust revealed itself moments later.

"Hey, Hermione," Malfoy drawled from somewhere behind me.

I twisted around to glare at him. What was he doing, approaching me in front of my friends? And why was he still calling me "Hermione"? I would have thought he would be back to his old tricks by this point, calling me "Granger" or even "Mudblood."

"You're not happy to see me," he stated with a smirk. I heard Harry mutter, "No shit," under his breath.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron asked loudly, for which I was grateful. I didn't trust myself to do any talking whatsoever right then.

Malfoy's smile was almost condescending now. "Well, Weasley, I simply wanted Hermione here to know how much I enjoyed the other night."

"The other night?" Ron repeated.

"That's what I said, yes," Malfoy said smoothly. "Hermione, we should certainly set aside some time to do it again."

"Do what, exactly?" Harry's teeth were clenched.

"Well, you see, Potter, I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. Oh, wait, I actually wouldn't mind that."

Ron stood up, his face and ears bright red, ready to retaliate. "You-"

"Ron!" I hissed. "Sit down, please, you're causing a scene."

"I'm causing a scene?" he laughed humorlessly. "He's the one coming over here, acting like he fucking knows you-"

"Ron," Harry said tersely, "Let it go. It's only Malfoy."

"Tell me, Weasley, how do your chances look now?" Malfoy's smile was getting more and more sinister.

"What chances?" Ron snapped.

"Your chances with Hermione," Malfoy said, as if he thought Ron was slow.

I began to panic. What if Malfoy was trying to lead up to revealing the kiss we shared? My friends couldn't know about that under any circumstances.

I pasted a big smile on my face. "Could I talk to you for a moment?" I addressed Malfoy in the sweetest tone I could stand to use.

"Of course." His tone was equally sweet.

"Hermione, what? No!" Ron said furiously.

I ignored him, rose and walked quickly out of the Hall, not even checking to see if he was following. Hogwarts students tended to gossip, and Malfoy's appearance at the Gryffindor table probably already had people talking. I was not about to give them more juicy material.

Once outside, I dragged him into a nearby classroom, wrinkling my nose at the strange smells that were suddenly present.

"What are you playing at?" I demanded, abandoning any pretense of politeness.

He grinned. "Whatever do you mean, dearest Hermione?"

I groaned. "Okay, when I said you could call me Hermione, I didn't mean for you to abuse that privilege, in front of my friends or otherwise. And, well, I didn't even think you would keep calling me that," I confessed, slightly flushed.

"I try not to do what people expect. You could learn to do that a bit more often," he smirked.

"Why is this so funny to you?"

"Why do you think this is funny to me?" he countered.

"Because-" I didn't think I could explain it, especially not to him. "I don't know, I just wish you would stop."

"Stop what?"

"Well, first of all, you can stop doing that."

"Doing what?" He started to laugh, so I knew that he knew what I was talking about.

"Being an immature boy," I muttered. Out loud, though, I said, "Answering my questions with questions, it's getting more than a little annoying."

"Fine," he shrugged. "Anything else you'd like to ask?"

I answered straightaway. "Yes."

He gave a mock bow. "By all means, make your request."

"Could you…" I wasn't entirely sure how to phrase was I was asking. "Would it be possible for you to refrain from talking to me in front of Harry and Ron?"

"But it's so much fun to make them angry," he protested.

I rolled my eyes. "They're going to get suspicious if you're not careful."

"Careful…?"

I lowered my voice. "If they were to find out about the-you know-" I turned even redder.

He caught on immediately. "The kiss?"

"Yes, that," I said uncomfortably. "If they knew about it-"

"I want them to."

I gaped at him. "What? Why? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"I'm pretty sure I can take the two of them on," he said confidently.

"This isn't about-why would you want-" I sputtered. Honestly, was he mental? Why else would he want them to know, unless…"This is all a game to you, isn't it?"

"A-"

"It is!" I cried, glad to have finally figured something out for myself. "You're dangling this shocking piece of information to make us all nervous, and then you're going to drop the bombshell and enjoy the ensuing chaos!"

The look on his face was one of utter befuddlement. "Hermione-"

"I don't believe this," I told him. "I feel like such an idiot. I should have known-"

"Should have known what?" he asked, frustrated.

"That kiss didn't mean anything to you," I said bitterly. "It didn't mean anything to me, either," I added quickly, "but I really thought you were a nicer person than I always gave you credit for."

"You thought-"

"Forget it," I whispered, and ran out of the room before he could realize that I had started crying. It wasn't until I had reached Gryffindor Tower that I remembered that I hadn't asked him about Yuzihan and the Room of Requirement.


The day that followed was pretty miserable. Ron, Harry and Ginny all wanted to know what I had spoken to Malfoy about. I considered telling Ginny what had happened so I could ask for some advice, but ultimately decided that would be a bad idea. She would make a big deal out of it, and that was definitely not what I wanted.

I didn't know exactly what I did want, though, either. Did I want him to leave me alone? Maybe. (Although if I was being perfectly honest, not really.) Did I want him to follow me into the Room of Requirement? Of course not. But when I asked myself what I did want from him, I couldn't come up with any sort of answer at all.

I sat in the common room after dinner, pondering the many reasons why Malfoy was acting the way that he was. Although two of my best friends were boys, I didn't have a good sense of how the male brain worked, so I wasn't able to come up with any ideas that satisfied me.

"Hermione?" It was Ginny. "Mind if I sit here?"

"Of course not." I shifted over so there would be room for her on the large, squashy armchair I was occupying.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

I sighed. "Not exactly."

"Wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head. "Not really."

"Would you be up for listening to me rant for a while, then?" She looked troubled, and I was immediately concerned.

"Ginny, what's wrong? Did something happen with Dean?"

She laughed sourly. "No, that's the problem. Nothing's happening with Dean. Nothing's been happening with him."

"What do you mean?"

"He just hasn't been paying that much attention to me anymore," she complained. "It's like I'm talking to him and he doesn't have any idea what I'm saying, even though what I'm saying makes perfect sense."

"I'm not sure I'm the person to talk to about all this," I began tentatively, "but maybe he's trying to tell you that he doesn't want to be with you anymore?"

It was the wrong thing to say. The redhead bristled and said, "If that's how he feels he should just say it to my face. God! I am so sick of all this rubbish with boys."

I couldn't agree with her more.

CatB: Let me know what you thought!

I hate to be one of those people that doesn't update until they get x number of reviews, but I'm thinking of starting to do that simply because of the lack of reviews I got on the last chapter. I mean, if I don't know how people feel about my story, why should I continue it? I understand that the last chapter had no Dramione action, but I honestly don't think that's a reason to not review. Just something to keep in mind, guys.