Cause You're Hot and You're Cold
"…and by looking at the way these symbols are shaped. By this we know the runes…"
Hermione snuck a glance at the clock, seeing everyone slowly and quietly shuffle their belongings into piles on their desks. There were only a few minutes of class left. She gently picked up her papers, and bumped it on the desk, straightening the pile. She picked up the cap of her bottle of ink and screwed it on tightly.
The professor seemed to notice the time too, because she herself had stopped her lesson, and begun packing up her own belongings.
The bell rang, and immediately, the students sprung up from their seats. "Class dismissed."
Hermione stood up, stretching as she did. She then brought her bag up to the table, and tossed her papers and quills into it before buttoning the pouched closed. She grabbed it with one hand, and tucked her chair in with the other, filing out of the aisle along with the rest of the class.
"Hey," she said, looping the shoulder strap of her side-swung bag over her head, as she walked by Draco, leaning against the wall outside the door. He always made it out of class before her.
He nodded, falling into step beside her.
Harry and Ron didn't understand it. Why they walked back from Runes together now. "Why would you choose to spend more time than necessary with him?" Ron had asked, red in the face—quite literally. Harry hadn't been much better, reacting essentially the same way Ron had, except in a much quieter manner.
But really, Hermione thought to herself, sneaking a quick glance at him, he wasn't that bad. Although, the fact that he was almost bipolar was a tad difficult.
He wondered when this began. The whole, walking together business. The first few times he had waited for her. Then she had waited for him. It wasn't that bad usually, they would walk. Talk occasionally, though most of the time, she ended up talking, and he would just listen. This was truly the only time they spent together, aside from meetings. And truth be told, it wasn't as horrid as he thought it would be. He sort of liked hearing her rant sometimes. Sometimes even, if he was feeling nice that particular day, he even resisted the urge to make snide comments.
Or lessened the amount.
Nonetheless, Hermione did notice.
"Like what you see, Granger?" he asked. He didn't have to look at her for her to know the smirk was there.
Apparently not today, although she didn't mind as much as she used to. She rolled her eyes. Most of the time he wasn't that bad, she amended. But she couldn't keep from smiling. "Keep dreaming, Malfoy." And maybe, if they hadn't started out the way they did six years ago, they could have been friends of some sort.
They walked most of the way back without talking. And although this only began about two weeks ago, the day after their massive fight during patrol, silence had quickly become routine.
"Patrol at 8 tonight."
It wasn't phrased as a question, but Hermione nodded anyways. Often times, their patrols began at 8 whether planned or not. Punctuality, she had quickly learned, was simply not his strong suit. Besides, he had quidditch a lot, and she could understand that. Partially because of years being friends with Harry and Ron.
But she knew it was for another reason. She smiled. "So, still going out with her then?"
Draco smirked, casting her a sidelong glance. "Aw Granger," he teased, placing a hand over his heart, "it hurts that you have so little faith in me."
"Poor little Malfoy," she muttered sarcastically.
He laughed, one of his rare laughs that made Hermione understand just a little bit more why so many fell for the boy.
He didn't really like Katherine that much, to be honest. She was fun. She was the sort of girl that you had a fling with—hardly a relationship. And truth be told, if the physical aspect of the relationship weren't as good as it was, he didn't think he could stand it.
But the way Granger constantly asked whether he was still going out with her made it sound like a challenge. And there was no way he could ignore that. She made it sound like he couldn't maintain a relationship—and although he wasn't well known for long relationships—he could, and he would prove that to her. Pity he had chosen the mindless girl though, he mourned. Bad timing on his part. Alicia was better.
He figured she was doing it on purpose—challenging him that was. She was setting him up, urging him to change. And he knew it too. But some traps, you can't resist, even if you see it beforehand. And this was one of them.
He would prove to her. And then she would eat her words. He grinned to himself. She wouldn't be so cocky after that.
"We're going strong," he added awkwardly, for safety.
She sent him a weird look.
"What?" he asked, perplexed.
"Did you completely not here what I said at all? We were talking about the winter ball now? Or I suppose I was talk about it and you were nodding mindlessly," Hermione went on, shaking her head.
"Was I?"
She supposed that was the best she was going to get. The chance of him saying sorry was about as high as him talking to Harry—not impossible, but so so so very unlikely.
She sighed as they reached the door.
"Phellytone," Draco announced, watching the door swing open. As much as he had tried to convince her to allow him to change it, she refused. And Mitchell now only listened to Hermione, apparently, much to Draco's displeasure. She had him completely wrapped around her finger. He let her enter first, before following behind her.
"Well then Granger," he said, sending her a short wave. He wouldn't ever let her know it, but it was nice walking back with her.
"See you tonight," she continued for him, with a nod, before heading to her room.
He smiled, nodding, and headed to his own. "Right. See you at the game."
"Did you walk back with him again?" Ron sighed, exasperated. Half from the fact that Hermione was still walking back with Draco, ignoring their protests, and half because he was hungry and the food had yet to arrive.
"Yes Ron, and you have a problem with that?"
"Bloody hell Hermione I have a problem with that and you know it!"
At his words, she looked up, annoyance written on her face. "And what's your problem with it?" she asked, daring him to continue.
Noticing this, and knowing not to cross her, he crossed his arms angrily. "Well…well….it takes you longer to get here!"
"I'm flattered that 2 minutes without me in your life affects you so much Ron," she chuckled, returning to her work on the table.
He huffed. Spotting Harry walk up, he protested. "Harry, help me convince her! He's going to be a bad influence!"
"Soon, I'm going to be slimy and have pet snakes too, right Ron?" Hermione laughed, scooting over as Harry slid in beside her.
"Ah Ron," Harry said, shaking his head, "she's not going to listen to you. Just leave it be." He, unlike Ron, knew when to quit. However, he leaned over towards Hermione. "Still Hermione, be careful alright?"
She smiled. "It's not like I'm going to fall for the guy Harry. I know better."
He shook his head. "I know you do. I know you're smarter than that. But sometimes things happen."
Ron, hearing the conversation, added hastily, "or he may trick you into it! Love potion maybe. Snape probably would help him make it too."
Hermione shook her head and laughed. "I'm not defending his character—or lack thereof at times," she saw Harry nod his agreement, "but he's not completely evil. The fights are sort of fun too."
"I know he's not evil Hermione, I'm just saying he's not the best of guys," Harry admitted reluctantly.
"Besides, do you really think he'd do that?" Hermione added, ignoring Harry.
Ron considered. "Okay, he probably wouldn't want you liking him."
"Gee Ron, you think."
"Alright, I'll give you that. But you can't possibly be friends with him," Ron protested.
Hermione shrugged. "We just head back to the dorm together. It's logical. We have the same class. And we're both going the same way," she explained. "Trust me, we're not friends."
"But now that we're on the topic," Harry began, "I still can't believe you locked him out of his own dorm! Actually, what I can't wrap my head around is how Snape completely let you off the hook!"
"It was brilliant Hermione," Ron agreed.
Hermione shrugged. "I really thought I was going to get it. At least a detention or something you know? Speaking of which, did Snape allow you to reschedule your detention from last class? I mean, your game is tomorrow."
"Against the Slytherins! He probably only allowed us to reschedule because he wanted to watch his house beat ours. Too bad we're going to have to disappoint him, right Harry?" He raised his hand.
Harry responded with the high five. "Right! You'll be there right Hermione?"
"When have I not been there?" she laughed. "First game of the season too!"
"Awesome Hermione! We'll wave!"
Hermione chuckled. "Alright," she murmured, humouring them.
"It's going to be great."
"Absolutely," Harry agreed. He looked over to the Slytherin table. "Tough," he admitted, scanning the heads for the members of the quidditch team, "but great."
Before Hermione could respond though, the first course of dinner appeared in front of them. As Ron hurriedly snatched the first piece of bread to show up, Hermione stuffed her work in her bag.
Her friends, she thought as she accepted the piece of bread Ron was offering her, were great. Like nagging mothers, at times, but she knew they were only looking out for her.
"Slytherin's are in the lead, ninety to seventy!" The crowd erupted in both cheers and 'boo's.
"Graham has the quaffle. She's passing it to Bings. Oh, oh, but it looks like Caper from Gryffindor has just intercepted the quaffle!"
The gryffindor's exploded, many standing up cheering. "And he narrowly avoids the bludger sent his way."
"Come on!" Draco yelled, tearing his eyes off the sky for a moment to urge his team. He glanced at Harry, making sure he hadn't spotted the snitch yet. "Come on! Richard, move it! Stop sitting there like a duck!"
Harry slowly began moving, circling the pitch from above, his hands sweaty from nervousness. It was like this every game—no matter how many years he played it. And he loved it. He wrenched his hands off the handle of his broom and shook them, relieving the tension.
A whistle blew, and Harry heard the distinct voice of Madame Hooch, amplified. "Blatching! Harper! Gryffindor ball!"
From above, he watched the speeding players, travel back and forth the pitch. He swooped down, displeased with his team. "James, help him out there," he called down urgently. The fifth year nodded, lifting up his bat.
"Jamieson sends the bludger over to help his teammate," the announcer said through the amplifier. But before he could give enough time for the fans to cheer, he added, "And Gryffindor scores! This cut's the lead to only 10!"
The Slytherin's were quick to retaliate, rounding back to the Gryffindor side of the pitch. "Come on Ron!" Hermione called, leaning over the guardrail. Her heart stopped for a moment as Ron cart wheeled with his broomstick, tumbling slightly in the air. The crowd roared as Ron up righted himself, quaffle tucked safely in his arm.
But the noise level was nothing compared when the first few members of the audience caught sight of Draco, diving head first down, followed mere moments afterwards by Harry.
Or what was assumed to be Draco and Harry. All Hermione could see was a flash of green followed by red. But she screamed nonetheless.
"Go Harry!" she yelled, jumping up and down. Despite herself, and all her moans and protests against the boys constantly talking about quidditch, it still sent a rush of thrill though her every time.
The two seekers turned sharply, jerking upwards. By now, the tip of Harry's broom was only an inch behind the tip of Draco's, the golden object flittering half a meter in front of them, just out of arms reach.
"Aw come on Potter," Draco urged on, "you can do better than that."
Harry looked at him through the corner of his eyes. "Why don't you keep your eyes on the snitch alright?" he returned, good naturedly.
Draco shook his head and urged forwards. Now, they were flying parallel to the ground. He stared straight ahead, blocking out the cheers and screams, focusing only on the snitch ahead of him. He needed this game. He needed to win this game. He pushed forwards, knowing Harry was right beside him. He could taste the victory almost. And merlin, he wanted it.
He didn't know what happened after that. All he heard was a scream. Her scream. Undeniably her scream. "Harry! Oh my god, Harry!" Right above him. In the stands right above him.
And then more screams and gasps. And he knew something was wrong.
So he looked beside him frantically. Half his mind told him to pull away, grab the snitch while he had the chance.
But then he saw Harry, just as the boy toppled off his broom. The turbulence shook him, as he pulled abruptly to a halt, reaching his hand out in an attempt to catch the other seeker. He almost flew off his own broom. He heard the snitch fly away, and cursed. "Damnit."
It stunned him for a moment, watching, realizing he was too late.
"Draco Malfoy knocked Harry Potter off his broom!" the announcer shrieked. But Draco didn't hear. He kicked his broom forwards, diving down. Maybe, just maybe, he could catch Harry. Or at least break his fall a bit. Or do something at least.
But he couldn't catch up in time. Nor could any other player. They could only watch as he landed, with a bone crunching noise. Draco grimaced. That ought to hurt.
He landed beside the crowd of people surrounding the boy on the ground. Jumping off his broom, he ran over. Suddenly, the sounds came rushing back. The displeased crowd around him.
He wanted to yell 'shut up'.
"What are you doing here?!"
He looked back down from the stands, to see Madame Hooch standing in front of him.
"I didn't…," Draco stuttered. "He…what happened?!"
She blew her whistle, and Draco fought the urge to cover his ears. "Game resumed!" she roared. "get out!" Draco watched as Madame Pomfrey and a few other teachers lifted the unconscious Harry out of the pitch.
"I didn't knock him.." Draco said suddenly, hearing cries of protests from the Gryffindors above him. "Shut up," he roared, angrily.
"Son, I know," Madame Hooch replied.
"I mean…not that I care.." Draco began, staring off at the boy behind lifted away, "will he be okay?" Draco asked suddenly, queasy at the thought. He didn't like the guy, but he didn't want him dead either. He cringed.
"Not the worst I've seen. Now what you need to do, is get up there, catch the snitch, and end the game. You're the only seeker left, and if the game doesn't end, nobody's going anywhere."
Draco remained still.
"Do I need to tell you twice?"
They won the game. Obviously. The Gryffindor players were too disheartened to play well. And it wouldn't have made a difference anyways. Draco easily caught the snitch, minutes after, and the game had ended. Slytherin, 250, Gryffindor, 90.
He had won. And he didn't taste the goddamn victory.
"Draco Malfoy!" Her voice shook and she hated it.
"What?" he asked, knowing her voice. His tone was harsh. "What?" he repeated, gentler this time, hearing the stutter in her words. She was upset.
"You didn't have to knock Harry off his broom!"
He whirled around. "What are you saying? " he growled.
Hermione's face darkened. She pointed an accusing finger at him. "Why did you knock him off?!" she shrieked. She looked like a mess, cheeks and nose red from the winds outside, her hair blown astray, and tear marks running down her cheeks.
Hermione wasn't one to cry. She hated crying. She hated cry-ers. But when she saw Harry like that…all twisted up and broken, the tears just came. She sniffled.
He softened, ever so slightly. Angry as he was that she was accusing him, he figured she was only caring for her friend. He could, he suppose, understand that.
"They won't let me go in!" she screamed at him, her hands curling into fists, tears turning into anger. Well that explained why she was here. "Why did you do it?! You were ahead! What? You couldn't play fair for once in your life?" she sneered.
His nostrils flared and he looked away. "You're angry. You're saying things. But Granger," he said calmly, forcing himself to curb his anger, "I didn't do it."
"No!" she shrieked. "You did! I saw it! You knocked Harry off his broom. And now he's in the hospital wing!"
"Merlin's sake woman, you're stubborn. I didn't do it alright." He turned to walk away, not wanting to deal with a hysteric Hermione. He doubted she'd cry on his shoulder, but he would rather not take that chance.
"Don't walk away you bastard! You did," she accused, her eyes flashing. "Don't lie to me. And right after, you went back out and caught the stupid snitch! How could you even bear to do that?!"
"It would end the game! Or we'd still be out there playing!" He sneered. "I don't have to explain myself to you."
She shook her head, unwilling to listen to his reasoning. "I can't believe you," she cried, shaking her head frantically. "I can't believe you did this!"
"I thought you would know by now that I'm not that type of person." Hurt seeped into him, but he forced it away. His brows furrowed. He shouldn't feel hurt by this. He glared at her. "I thought you of all people, should know better," he gritted out.
Hermione frowned. He pushed past her and walked away, bumping her, causing her to stumble a few steps back. "Get out of my way," he paused, the word unwilling to come out. He forced it out, to spite her, to hurt her like she hurt him. "Mudblood."
The word hurt. The word hurt too much. And it made her wonder…why did it hurt more than usual? Was it because he hadn't said it in so long, that she simply wasn't prepared for it anymore? Or because it meant that their pseudo-friendship—if that was what you could call it—was really nothing?
But didn't she insist it was nothing.
"Damn you Granger," he hissed under his breath as he stormed away, angry….and hurt.
And then she remembered his words. I thought you would know by now that I'm not that type of person. She almost laughed at the irony of it. "Nobody knows what type of person you are Malfoy," she mumbled, watching him walk away, confusion clouding her mind. "Nobody knows you. All I know is that you make me feel things sometimes, I shouldn't." She shook her head. She didn't have time for this. She really didn't want to believe he did it. She really wanted to believe the person she thought he was.
But maybe she was wrong. And, oh, she hated to be wrong, she thought, watching him walk away, shoulders slumped.
A/N: Title, of coursse, Katy Perry.
Cause you're hot and you're cold, you're yes then you're no. You're in then you're out, you're up then you're down. La La La.
Just to clarify, not sure if you got it or not, but Harry and Ron know that Hermione and Draco walk back together. They really believe they don't have a friendship going on at all, so they're not too angry about it.
And hermione believes that a bit as well, she doesn't like him as more. Just, sometimes you sorta are like, wow, he's cute, but that doesn't mean you like him type of thing.
:) I hope you liked it.
REVIEW? –too fast? Too slow? Draco's too nice. Hermione's feelings too unclear (it will clear up later)
