Chapter Seven

From then on, the couple spent every spare minute of their time together. Since their N.E.W.T.S. had already been taken (with Hermione acing them, of course), they spent most of their time out on the lake. Some of their time, however, was spent in the kitchens, eating late night snacks.

During one such night, the two were sitting at a table, munching on Cheese Puffs, when they heard a loud crash.
"What was that?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know."

Before Hermione could go investigate, a boy with pale blond hair came walking into the kitchens.

"Malfoy?" Hermione questioned. "What are you doing here?"

"Why does it matter? Maybe I should ask what you two're doing here…" He trailed off, grinning maliciously at them.

"We're eating," Blaise pointed out bluntly.

"This late at night? Hmmm…suspicious."

Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Your turn, Malfoy. Why are you in the kitchens in the middle of the night? Obviously not just for food, the way you're dressed." Hermione looked him up and down, taking in the dress robes and slicked back hair.

Malfoy turned red, and glared at her. "It's none of your business, mud-Granger." Malfoy paled at the look in Blaise's eyes at the word "mudblood."

"Hello, Draco," a confident voice came from behind Blaise and Hermione.

"Pansy." Malfoy nodded to Parkinson, who was wearing a sparkly red dress and matching high heels. Hermione's mouth dropped open, while Blaise kept his cool.

"Everything is ready?" Malfoy asked Blaise, who nodded in reply, and led Hermione out the kitchen door quietly.
"Wha— ? What was that?" Hermione whispered.

"Malfoy deserves a bit of romance in his life, too."

"But…Parkinson?"

Blaise shrugged.

"He…and Parkinson…He and anyone!"
Blaise just grinned at her.

The next day, Hermione was lounging in the corner of the Common Room in her usual seat, but there wasn't a book in sight. The Common Room was empty, save for the rare person coming in, gaping at her, rubbing their eyes (possibly making some smart-aleck remark), then going out again. So Hermione wasn't surprised to hear footsteps in the hallway, and two loud voices. But she was surprised when she saw who came through the door.

"Ron! Harry! I thought you were playing Quidditch!"

The two boys ignored her and continued to argue loudly.

"That wasn't fair, Harry! You knocked me off my broom deliberately!"

"Oh, come off it, Ron. You were only two feet in the air!"

"That's not the point! You knocked me off my broom!"

"You weren't hurt, were you?"

"No, but even if I had been, Madam Hooch still wouldn't have noticed."

"You know that's not true, Ron!"

"Of course it is! But if Harry Potter got a single scratch, she would be blowing her whistle and stopping the game to see if he was alright!"

"That was a bit embarrassing."

"So you're admitting to it?"

"Argh! You're so infuriating!"

The two boys glared at each other, then faced different directions. Finally, they saw Hermione, without her usual stack of books and parchment.
All Ron could do was stare, slack-jawed, at her.

"'Mione!? Wha--? Where's your…books?" Harry finished lamely.

"Oh, I took a break. You know, school almost being out and such."

"You…took a BREAK?!?!?!?!?! Hermione, are you sure you're feeling alright? If you've got a headache, you should to get some rest!"

"Harry, I'm fine! I just took a little rest from reading so much. Blaise helped me realize that I'd been doing way too much homework. It was starting to stress me out a bit.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious! Or is it just too hard to believe that school-girl Hermione isn't doing any homework? Would it kill you guys just to be understanding for once?" She glared at them, stood up, and stomped off to the Girls' dorms.

Harry and Ron stared at one another for a full minute, forgetting their earlier Quidditch quarrel.