A few weeks later, Hermione sat by the roaring fire in the common room, in the midst of filling out a Ministry form, when she saw snow starting to fall outside the window. She loved snow and hoped that it would stay on the ground until Christmas. Resuming to fill out her form, she frowned when she read box labelled 'address'. It was only recent she and her parents had been allowed to leave the safe house set up for them by the Auror Department. Kingsley had insisted on them staying there until they were sure the danger posed by the Death Eaters had dwindled. After leaving there, her parents and she had moved to a new house and since she no longer had the trace on her, Hermione figured no one at the Ministry knew her address. Until now, she thought putting down the last digits of her postal code.
Finished with the form and eager to go outside, she got up from the chair and left Gryffindor tower to make her way to the owlery. It was freezing up there so she hurried to pick out one of the school owls and attach the letter to the Ministry to its leg. The small grey owl didn't look keen to fly in the snow, and she had to drag it to the mound's edge to make it take off. As she was leaving, she heard someone coming up the stairs before she saw it was Cormac McLaggen, holding a letter in a tight grip.
"Granger, fancy meeting you here," he said when he saw her.
"Hello Cormac," Hermione answered curtly, but as she made to pass him, he grabbed her arm.
"Cut it out," she said in a levelled voice. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of making her scared.
"Not so fast Granger, we're all friends now, so there's nothing wrong with us having a little chat," he said with a cocky grin that grew wider when she started to struggle in his grip.
"What do you want, McLaggen?," she asked, struggling to keep her composure as she felt his fingers bore into her arm.
"Oh, just a moment of your time," he said nonchalantly, eyeing her up and down. She stopped struggling, knowing there was no way she'd get out of his grip. Cormac was about five times bigger than she and she had no arm muscles to brag about.
"I was wondering if you'd managed to find a date yet?" he asked, loosening his grip on her arm.
She looked at him incredulous.
"What are you talking about?
"The winter dance," he said impatiently "who are you going with?"
"I dunno. No one," she said, feeling very confused about why they were having this conversation, on top of which she'd completely forgot about McGonagalls announcement that there'd be a winter dance this year.
"You know I was going to ask Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker you know," he started, drawing himself up "but if you don't have anyone to go with, I'll go with you:"
Hermione felt anger erupt in her chest, did he seriously think she'd go with him after their disastrous date at Slughorns Party in sixth year? And to offer himself up to her as if he was some sort of gift. Then she almost laughed imagining Cho's face if he'd ask her next.
"No, I don't think that's a good idea," she said, adding "now let me go."
He looked furious, but released her nonetheless.
"This isn't over," he spoke through gritted teeth.
"Oh, yes it is," Hermione said coolly, before leaving. Running down the stairs, she felt her blood boiling and couldn't wait to tell Ron and Harry. They wouldn't believe that the arrogant, disgusting prat had actually thought she'd go out with him after practically having attacked her two years previous.
She found her two best friends out in the grounds, half -watching a snowball fight between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor first-years.
"You're kidding?" Harry said when she'd finished telling them what had just happened.
"That's it. I'm going to kill him," Ron said in a low voice, looking furious, then sounding concerned he asked "Are you okay, I mean he didn't hurt you or anything?"
"No, not really," she said, sitting down on the bench beside them, wind-shield wiping her feet in the snow.
"But can you imagine if he asks Chang? She will turn him to dust," Hermione said smiling, watching the patterns her feet left in the snow in front of her. Then glancing at Ron, who still looked angry, she said: "Come on, Ron. I only told you what happened because I thought you'd think it funny,".
She watched Ron's head snap up and he glared at her.
"Funny is it?" Ron said angrily, ignoring Harry's overstated sigh "that some creep can't keep his hands off you and refusing to take 'no' for answer. You think that's funny, do you?"
"No of course I don't, Ron, but nothing happened. Truly," she said, looking at Harry for support.
"Yeah, come on Ron, lighten up," Harry said, but this only resulted in Ron glaring at him instead.
They sat in silence for a moment, watching the scene of first-years throwing snowballs at each other, until Ron calmed down.
"Fine, I'll let it go. But if he approaches you again Hermione, you'll let me know," he said, in what sounded more like an order than a question, and she nodded in agreement. Then she remembered she'd said to meet Draco after dinner and glancing at the clock she realized she had to get back to the castle.
"Guys, I got to go. See you at dinner" she said before heading back to the castle, going straight to the prefect's bathroom. She accioed her towel and fresh set of underwear from her dormitory, hoping no one had noticed her drawers swishing through the air. Then she turned on the water before stepping into the steamy shower.
Thank Merlin, Draco thought when dinner finally came to a close. He was eager to get some time alone with Granger, feeling like he'd hardly seen her lately. The past week, she'd been too preoccupied with schoolwork and her Head Girl responsibilities to make time for him. He, on the other hand would've gladly skived off quidditch practice for an hour of physical activities with Granger. But whatever, tonight he'd have her for himself, he thought watching her hungrily as she got up from her seat, saying her goodbyes to Potter and Weasley and leaving the Hall. He closed his eyes, counting silently in his head: 1…2….3…4 before he got up and hurried after Granger, catching up with her at the start of the corridor leading to the Room of Requirement.
"Hey," he said panting.
"What happened to being discreet?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest.
"Well, I counted to ten before going after you," he lied smoothly, thinking she looked very cute when annoyed.
"Draco, if we're not careful everyone will find out," she said, biting her lip and looking worried. However, Draco wasn't listening. He was staring at her lips, longing to taste them and failing to understand why they were wasting time just standing there talking.
"Yeah, you're right, whatever. Can we just get on with it?" he asked impatiently.
"Oh, that's real romantic," she said sarcastically, but she was smiling so he figured he wasn't in any real trouble. Then, in a stroke of genius he said he'd heard someone coming before ushering her into the Room of Requirement.
After hours of uninterrupted sex, Draco felt wasted and thirsty. Hermione was resting on his chest and he was stroking her arm when he noticed a big bruise on it. Frowning, he traced the outlines of the purple mark.
"Granger, what is this?" he asked.
"A bruise", she said matter-of-factly, resting her chin on his chest.
"Yeah," he said, looking at her face now "but how did it get there?
There was a silence, and he felt himself grow impatient, before she spoke.
"I had a run-in with McLaggen earlier," she said and in Draco sat up quickly, feeling completely sober now. And Hermione rolled off him sighing.
"What? What did he do?" he demanded, already feeling his body pulsing with anger. She'd previously told him about how McLaggen had behaved towards her on Slughorn's party. And Draco was sure he wouldn't like what was coming.
"Well, we ran into each other at the owlery and he asked me to the winter dance. I turned him down and it got a bit nasty," she started, but meeting his expression, she fell silent.
Draco was quiet too, picturing ways in which he could make MacLaggen suffer. There was no way he was getting away with this.
"So, about the winter dance," she said suddenly, pulling him back to the present "are you bringing anyone?"
He could tell she was working hard to keep her voice casual and he smiled, glad not to be the only one who was jealous.
"Yeah, I was thinking about asking…" he started, watching her face fall before finishing the sentence "Zabini."
"Jerk", she said, punching his arm.
"There is this girl I want to go with though. Short, really annoying, a total know-it-all. I think you might know her," he said, kissing the top of her head.
"I wish we could," she said sighing.
"Why can't we? I mean this, our thing is going really well, right?" he asked.
"Our thing? Eloquently put, Mr Malfoy," she said, laughing before continuing "But yes, it's going really well."
"Well, then, why can't we tell people?"
"Draco, we've been over this. We decided not to tell people until we're out of Hogwarts," she said dismissively.
Draco knew she was right, the next few months at Hogwarts would be hell if word got out that they were dating. However, that didn't stop him from wanting to shout it from the roof tops. It was excruciating, knowing other men, like Weasley and MacLaggen thought Granger to be single. She is mine, he thought, pulling her closer before falling asleep.
Draco woke up next morning with Hermione still resting on his chest and he nuzzled her, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, before waking her up.
"Morning, beautiful," he said. She looked sleepily at him and smiled for a second before sitting up bolt upright.
"What time is it? Are we late?" she asked frantically before she got up and started to collect her clothes from the floor.
"Yeez, are you always like this in the mornings? Breakfast haven't even started yet," he said, yawning.
"Oh, okay. I need a shower. See you at breakfast," she said, giving him a quick kiss before hurrying out the door. He watched her go, making a mental note he ought to teach her how to relax.
Later that day, Draco was sitting on the bleachers, Gryffindor players swirling in the air above the pitch, but he wasn't watching them. His eyes were fixed on the tall, curly-haired man who stood shouting at the side-lines. McLaggen. Draco thought it was pathetic; he wasn't even on the team so what was he doing shouting instructions to the players? Potter seemed to agree, looking rather irritated with McLaggen. But that was none of Draco's concern, he was just waiting for a moment alone with the bastard and when the practice had finished he called out:
"McLaggen".
The big man stopped in his tracks, looking bemused at him before walking over to where he stood.
"What?" McLaggen asked when he approached him. Draco didn't answer, instead he slammed his fist into him, savouring the sound of snapping bones and sight of blood trickling down McLaggen's dumb face, before hitting him again and again. Draco only stopped when he felt his knuckles bleeding, and wiping the back of his hands against his robes, he started towards the castle. He knew McLaggen would've probably taken him in a fair fight, but this wasn't a fight, he thought, this was revenge. And it was sweet.
