Author's Note: Hey everyone! Here we are with another chapter. :)
I would like to take this moment to clarify some things about His Obsession. I've stated this I believe in an earlier chapter, but if not, I'll state it now. This story does not follow canon plot or timeline with HBP or DH. What did stay is yes the war had happened and Voldemort was defeated. BUT I didn't want to follow J.K.'s decision to have Fred be dead or Snape and Dumbledore, etc. The trio have come back to school for a repeat year, so technically 8th I guess. Prejudice is not eradicated just because Voldy is dead, because that's hardly realistic lol
And finally, if anyone has an issue with how I write this story especially with plot/timeline/book compliance/etc, I'm sorry to hear that, but I will continue to write this story in a way that I enjoy. I spend the small amount of free time that I have, to make a great story that hopefully the majority of you all like lol I'm not J.K. Rowling and I make no money doing this, so I'm not concerned with writing parallel to her own creation. This is purely for fun!
Anyways, sorry for the rant! I just wanted to maybe explain where i'm coming from and all that good shit. XD
Disclaimer: I make no monies. J.K. owns everything except my imagination.
Chapter 9
'Twas the night before Yule
-x-
The halls of Hogwarts were swelling with excitement about the upcoming Yule ball being held the very next night. There was a constant buzzing in the air as flocks of sixth and seventh year students discussed what they would wear, who they were going with; the latter causing many shrieks and hysterical bursts of laughter over who got asked out by whom. The last couple of days leading up to this moment had been a little chaotic at times, with many young men having procrastinated to ask the girls they had their eye on. Said girls had not made it very easy; blushing and giggling and traveling in small packs to and fro as if to test the boys' mettle.
The professors certainly had their hands full in dealing with all the raucous behavior. Points were deducted left and right for inappropriate whispering during class, notes being passed around while hardly being secretive about it, and Peeve's himself had become an absolute menace during sacred learning time. He'd apparently been accepting bribes to pop into classes to deliver a flower or recite a poem to that special someone, yet true to form, students were pelted with magicked snowballs and quite rude limericks instead.
After several frazzled complaints to the Headmaster, peace was somewhat restored. In the classroom at least. Walking through the halls was yet another matter to contend with. Someone thought it funny to spell a bunch of mistletoe to float a few inches above the female students, nearly giving Filch a heart attack as he scurried around to break up young couples kissing and other such tomfoolery going on while threatening that each and every one of them were sure to be expelled within the hour.
It would be correct in assuming that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had gone decidedly batshit.
Hermione Granger, who'd been looking forward to the festivities as much as the next person, was now losing some of her enthusiasm since she had become a target with boys still looking to get a date for the dance. It was ridiculous that, once again, no one had asked her until the very last minute and that was what stuck in her craw the most, and this time there wasn't Krum to save her from feeling like the over looked, unwanted wallflower that nobody cared to notice. Even Krum, who was in love with his broom and allergic to books, had found her interesting and pretty enough to ask out. So what was the deal with her? Was she really that unappealing to the male population at this school? She couldn't even help but feel especially disappointed in Ron; thinking that this time he'd have the sense or the courage to finally get off his arse and ask her from the beginning, but did he? No, and Hermione knew for a fact that he wasn't going with anyone thus far.
The agitated brunette grumbled under her breath, muttering about how stupid boys were, stomping through the happy halls to get to her next class. Maybe she should have said yes to the couple of boys that had asked her today. The choices though, hadn't been the best on top of feeling as though she were the kid being picked last for sports. Justin Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff had been the first boy to come up to her during Charms, completely red-faced and he was stuttering so bad she almost couldn't tell what he was trying to say to her before he seemed to decide against the whole thing and fled away before she could even give an answer.
If that weren't bad enough, during lunch in the Great Hall, who strolled up to the table was none other than Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw. More importantly, Ginny's ex-boyfriend. Hermione had felt just a bit disgusted by this, seeing as how he was not only asking her, Ginny's best friend, but doing so right in front of the other girl. Now, Hermione knew that Ginny was absolutely happy with Harry and they loved each other dearly, but still, that was something you just don't do if you're a decent human being. Not to mention, the vibe he was giving off was a little too much on the revenge side and was meant to make the red head jealous. Which was laughable, because the ship had sailed between those two, yet Hermione had a feeling Michael certainly wasn't over it. Especially since he was the one dumped.
Though, ever diplomatic and tactful, Hermione sent him on his way with the only answer she could give which was a resounding no.
She sighed, picking at her food and wondering at this point if she ought to go stag to this party or skip it altogether and stay in the Head dorm to do homework before the holidays. No, the latter wouldn't do, not when she was expected to open the Ball with Malfoy with the first dance. McGonagall had mentioned in passing last week that the Head Boy and Girl were to make a strong united front for everyone and start things off. How they were to get through an entire dance together without killing each other was beyond her. She could behave herself, but could he? Who was to say. That Slytherin was as unpredictable as an angry viper and just as mean.
"Hey, Hermione," said Ginny, leaning around Harry to look at her silently brooding friend, "you haven't seen my brother around have you? He barely stayed for breakfast and now he hasn't shown up for lunch, and we all know how much Ron loves his food."
Hermione shrugged, shaking her head with a small frown.
"I haven't the foggiest, Gin. Sorry."
Harry cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, glancing at the brunette before turning towards his inquisitive girlfriend. He knew exactly what Ron was doing, but he couldn't very well spill the beans and ruin the surprise.
"He, uhm, said he needed to spend time on his Quidditch practice, but that he'd definitely be coming to dinner."
"Quidditch practice, huh," Ginny said dubiously, giving Harry a funny look, "how is that possible when we have classes all day? Seems kind of silly. Are you sure that's what he said?"
Harry swallowed hard, looking away and began shoveling his mouth full of food.
"I, I dun know, Ginneh. He was gone so fas'." He shrugged, concentrating on chewing the large mouthful so he wouldn't choke. The little Weasely had a bemused smile on her face as she looked again towards Hermione.
"Boys are so strange, aren't they?"
"Ha, that's one word to describe them," Hermione grumbled sullenly, pushing the food around on her plate. She was starting to get irritated with herself as well; never having been the type of girl to care so much about a silly dance and especially about whether a boy paid attention to her or not. It wasn't like her to need a boy in her life to make her feel pretty or special, and yet, perhaps since growing up even more since fourth year, she had gotten to a point where maybe she'd like a boyfriend. He'd have to take a bit of a backseat to her studies of course, and if he was into sports whether it be muggle or Quidditch, well…he shouldn't expect her to attend or be involved. He'd also have to deal with someone headstrong, opinionated, brainy and no nonsense. Basically, he'd have to be just as studious as she and probably not even like girls that much to care if she were busy.
Hermione covered up a small snort and shook her head slightly. That didn't leave her many options when it came to dating and certainly didn't sound too appealing either. She wasn't a total hard ass; yes, she could be a stickler about things, but she was fun to be around wasn't she? Maybe she ought to take more risks, but it wasn't in her nature. Not unless someone was in danger. Or there was evil to destroy.
If only she could be a little more like Ginny, who was pretty bold; taking all the bulls by the horn if you will, and getting what she wanted romantically or otherwise. Hermione would never admit that a part of her was a little jealous of her friend's easy confidence. Love and boys seemed second nature to the girl and was able to converse with them freely and gain their adoration.
Though, there really wasn't a rush she supposed, beginning to gather up her things for the next class starting soon. Everything happens for a reason and when the time was right and the planets were aligned, then it would happen.
Hermione bit her lip to curb a small smile at that whimsical thought, standing up from the table. She said her goodbyes to her friends and began making her way to Potions which would be shared with the Slytherins today. That alone soured the mood even more.
"Hermione, wait a moment!" someone from behind called out, sounds of heavier footfalls coming fast in a run. She turned around curiously and saw Cormac McLaggen come jogging up to her, a big grin on his face and his forehead just a little sweaty. She clutched her books to her chest, offering him a soft, welcoming smile in return.
"What is it, Cormac?" she inquired, shifting from one foot to the other. He ran his fingers through his sandy hair and cleared his throat almost as if he were trying to build up to something.
"I wanted to let you know that, thanks to you, I'm totally acing Muggle Studies now," he chuckled, gratitude inflected in his tone, "And I, I wanted to ask you if you had a date or not to the Ball— "
Something colorful and round came zooming out of nowhere and smacked into Cormac's unsuspecting face, bursting open to release a gush of icy cold water all over him. He gasped at the coldness, his eyes wide with shocked confusion and he swiveled his head around in all directions to find the culprit behind this. Hermione covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a giggle at his reaction, also looking to see who had thrown that water balloon. She screeched as one had just been lobbed at the back of her head, not expecting just how cold it felt; the water running down her back to soak her robes. Now it wasn't as funny, and angrily she whirled around to confront the jerk doing this, but saw no student gleefully standing there with an armful of balloons.
Peeves revealed himself at last, laughing maniacally, his little fist cocked back; ready to throw yet another water bomb at her.
"Don't. You. Dare," She growled, crossing her arms over her chest, "I'm a Head—"
SMACK!
Hermione sucked in a sharp breath, an icy waterfall cascading down her front.
"PEEEEEVES!"
An unrepentant cackle was his response, but he was just getting started.
-x-
"Oh! There once was a witchy
Who got a little itchy,
She scratched and she scratched,
But it just made her bitch—"
-x-
"ARGH!" Hermione yelled, dodging around him to run to a bathroom, giving Cormac a quick sorry as she did so. Peeves was hot on her tail the entire way, the lyrics just getting ruder and the water balloons pelting down at her ankles. She threw open the door to the first girl's bathroom she saw, slamming it shut, effectively cutting off his verbal and liquidy assault. She leaned against the door and blew out an irritated breath, beyond pissed that she was absolutely sopping wet now and had to take time to dry off which was going to make her late to Potions. No doubt Snape was going to revel in this and tack on a detention aside from taking away points. Today was just not her day.
Her shoes squelched with each stomp she made as she walked over to the mirrors, groaning at her reflection. Her hair was dripping and clinging to her face and neck, making her look a bit like a drowned rat, and not only that, but her white shirt was see through and plastered indecently against her chest; her red lace bra peeking through the fabric. She blushed bright red, hoping fervently that nobody had seen that as she ran past, not wanting the other students to see her in such an undignified state.
That little…pest!
She set her things down on the floor and took out her wand, muttering a drying charm over her clothes. When she was about to tackle the mess that was her hair, she stopped short when she heard a sob break the silence in such a way as if the owner of it meant to keep as quiet as possible. Hermione took a better look around and realized that she'd ran into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She groaned again, lamenting internally at her run of bad luck, hoping that maybe she could dip out of here without alerting the depressed ghost to her presence.
Hermione quickly grabbed her bag, forgoing her limp, bedraggled hair and made swiftly for the exit, but stopped just short of reaching the door knob, when another broken sob pierced the otherwise still air. Something about that cry was different from the overly dramatic, almost shrieking noise that Myrtle liked to use; it seemed to belong to a living girl instead and it was quite heartbreaking to hear to say the least.
The Head Girl's mind ran through her options and reasoned that she was already late for class as it was and perhaps she could be of assistance to this person. It would, in a way, be her duty, right? Surely, Snape would have to concede that.
Making her decision, she set her bag down again and walked toward where the sound had come from. It was coming from behind the circle of sinks that had once been the gateway to the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione came closer and went around, looking down to see a girl sitting on the floor with her arms hugging her knees to her chest, her face pressed against them as she attempted to hold back another choked sob. The brunette couldn't tell who it was, just saw that the other girl had short black hair and robes with a green and silver Slytherin patch on them.
Hermione didn't like the Slytherins all that much; she found most of them to be very mean, selfish, racist people, but she couldn't just ignore someone in obvious pain. That was just who she was. It didn't matter who they were, she really just wanted to help.
For some reason, the crying girl hadn't noticed her yet, and Hermione gingerly reached down with a hand to the girl's shoulder, speaking in a soft voice.
"Are you okay?" she asked with genuine concern.
The girl reared back, startled at being interrupted, her features pinched and reddened. Her black eyes narrowed accusatorily while she sniffled, her nose as swollen as her eyes from all the tears shed. There was an angry sneer on her lips and her forehead became lined as she glared up at Hermione.
"What the bloody hell do you want, mudblood?" Pansy Parkinson spat hatefully, slapping away Granger's outstretched hand. She pushed up to her feet, her hands furiously wiping at her face with the sleeves of her robes.
Hermione, taken aback that it had been Pansy so upset and alone on the floor, stumbled back a couple steps, still unable to shake the need to comfort despite the horrid attitude she received. She'd never seen Pansy in such a vulnerable state before; hadn't even considered that the volatile girl could even feel emotion enough to cry at all. It was a completely opposite picture of the supposed egotistical confidence the Slytherin usually displayed to everyone.
"I'm sorry, I…I really didn't mean to intrude, it's just, well, I heard someone crying and I wanted to help. Are you okay?"
Pansy laughed without humor, stalking over to the mirrors to fix the puffiness forming under her eyes with a spell.
"You, help me?" she scoffed, her eyes flicking to Hermione's through the mirror reflection, "why, in Salazar's name would you help me? I hate the very sight of you. Knowing that you are here and saw me this way, disgusts me to the core. Help me…," Pansy turned to lift her chin at the pale faced Gryffindor, "Why don't you just bugger off!"
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself, thinking it was best that she just leave the girl alone. Pansy wanted nothing to do with her or her help, so there was nothing she could do but get to class before she got in even more trouble than she was probably already in. She gave Pansy a curt, tight-lipped nod, making a beeline to the door in a rush to the dungeons.
"Oh, and if you ever tell anyone about this, I will make sure you regret it."
Hermione paused, her hand wrapped around the door handle, angling her head to look at Pansy square in the eye.
"I would never do that. Not to anybody."
Pansy stared hard at her, like she was considering whether she could trust her word or not. Eventually Parkinson dropped her gaze to the floor, giving a small nod in acceptance that she could trust that. With nothing else to say between them, Hermione slipped out of the bathroom, leaving Pansy behind to her own devices.
Half an hour earlier, Lunch time…
Every moment that went by was hell…
Once again Pansy felt utterly betrayed and rejected and struggled to think of why it was that she had to go through this awful pain. Never did she foresee that Draco Malfoy would have stabbed a knife deep in her heart and twisted it without mercy. He even seemed to enjoy it.
Her vision blurred and warped, her fingers clutching with a white knuckled grip on her bag strap, the salty burn of tears threatening to spill. She blinked them back rapidly, not wanting to allow anyone to see her acting weak. Especially anyone from her own House. Something like tears were akin to blood around sharks; they circled when they caught the scent of any sort of weakness, wanting to finish off the source with an almost sadistic glee. Crying was saved for nighttime as she lay in bed in the darkness, where no one could see her silently screaming into her pillow.
Pansy had been hurt before, many times; her father being one of the biggest culprits in her life. He was a domineering man, who laid out the rules of the house and expected them followed to the letter. He had a quick temper and an even quicker hand when he became enraged, and since he was so hard to please, these fits were often. She hadn't a mother to run to for comfort anymore. It had been just her and her father since she was nine years of age, and therefore took the brunt of his anger. Though, Pansy had painstakingly made sure she did everything she could to avoid his wrath, by doing everything she was told without complaint and succeeding.
Until now.
Cassius Parkinson had made it clear early on that he wanted his daughter to get close with the young Malfoy heir. Since third year, he'd pressured her into becoming friends with the boy and to do whatever possible to get on Draco's good side. The reasoning behind it was that Cassius wanted a boost in power and status, while also having access to the vast Malfoy wealth that was far greater than his own. He thought of Pansy as his foot in the door and knew that the Parkinson name would be the talk of the wizarding town if they managed to make such an advantageous marriage when the time came. No door would ever be closed to him and he'd be able to do as he pleased, and maybe, finally get a seat on the Wizangamot, or even campaign for Minister.
Pansy did as was demanded, though back then, she thought Draco was incredibly into himself, too arrogant, and not a little bit intimidating to talk to. He was still those things, but somehow he managed to wiggle into a space within her heart. It was unexpected and she'd been totally unprepared for the feelings that she'd developed for the boy. It just…happened. She'd witnessed moments when he'd smile or laugh without force or derision, and times when he spoke, he would sound so smart and fascinating which was the opposite of her. Pansy struggled to maintain her average grades, all the while hearing from her father about he's had to raise such an embarrassing dunce of a daughter and that she was lucky she was just pretty enough to manage a husband in her future. But the husband her father wanted for the family would never come to be.
Pansy looked up from the stone floor she walked, seeing a flash of blonde hair heading towards the staircase leading down to the Great Hall. Her steps faltered when she saw Malfoy begin to descend the stairs followed by his gang of Slytherins; Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, and Nott. Just seeing the back of him reopened the tear in her heart, and this time there was no stopping the tears from falling. There was no way she could go down to lunch like this, and decided to duck into the girl's bathroom to hide out until it was over. There, she broke down freely, her fingers curling around the edge of the sink as she poured her misery out into the drain.
"Oh, look what the cat dragged in, hm?" came a watery voice from behind Pansy. The Slytherin turned quickly to see Moaning Myrtle floating up to her with her head cocked to the side and a small pout on her lips.
"My, aren't we sad about something," the gloomy phantom continued mockingly, "Silly girls coming into MY bathroom. I'M the one who gets to cry in here, I'M the one who's DEAD!" she screamed at Pansy who was having none of it.
"Why don't you go flush yourself you miserable little...COW!" Pansy yelled back, looking around for something to throw. Myrtle let out a screech that would have made a banshee proud and hurtled herself into her toilet, causing a large splash of water to coat the already wet floors.
Pansy hugged her middle with her arms, leaning back against the sink with her eyes closed tightly. She didn't know how this could be happening to her. This was one of the worst years of her life. She had let herself fall in love with Draco, not thinking he'd end up being such a heartless monster towards her. The summer before school had been so incredibly perfect; sharing a couple months as his date to social functions, dinners, activities such as the theatre and dances and even just spending time with just the two of them, getting up to their own mischief. She'd smuggled a couple bottles of her father's finer Firewhiskey in which to impress Draco while also dressing herself in her best dress, making herself look perfect for him as her heart beat fast and wild as she made the decision that tonight was the night; she was finally going to give him the most valuable gift she still had. Her virginity. She'd waited, wanting to give it to the boy she deemed worthy of both that and her heart and felt that Draco was "the one".
That night progressed with much drinking and talking and laughter, Pansy being the more sober party seeing as how she wished to actually remember this special moment, her first time, between them. What happened that night was not quite how she had imagined it would be, but it wasn't terrible either. Malfoy was very drunk and so him undressing her was a bit clumsy and uncoordinated, but he made up for it with his kisses, and boy, could Malfoy snog the panties off a girl drunk or not. It was exhilarating and scary to be doing this with a boy on a leather couch in her father's study, where at any moment a house elf could pop in unannounced and her father entertaining Narcissus, Draco's mother, just downstairs. Pansy felt it was her own little rebellion since she was never allowed to enter Cassius's precious study, and reveled in it.
That alone was almost worth the ten minutes of rough groping, the bruising grip of fingers on her untouched flesh, and maybe even worth the painful breaching of her innocence. It had hurt more than she thought it would, and probably she should have said from the start that Draco was her first and he might have been more gentle with her, but she suffered through it stoically because she loved him.
When it was over, he lifted himself from her to fix his clothing and it was then she noticed that while she'd been naked, he'd only pulled his trousers down far enough to do the deed. She didn't hold that against him, since she wasn't sure if it was something she should have, but in the end figured that it didn't matter. It finally happened! She couldn't have been happier. Pansy Parkinson was in love and Draco loved her back, she just knew it!
Pansy screamed brokenly at her mirror image, hitting the glass with a closed fist.
Stupid, stupid girl! What did you expect to happen? Men are all the same…
The bathroom door creaked open and Pansy wide-eyed ran to hide behind the circle of sinks. She was ducked down and peeking around to see who it was, wondering why any girl would choose to come in here. She'd thought it was safe, but apparently she couldn't get a break.
"Um, why do we have to go in this one?" a long suffering female voice drawled.
"Sorry, Daphne, but I really have to go!" another female said, her tone hurried. Footsteps slapped quickly along the wet floor, and the sound of a stall door slamming could be heard. The two girls that came in were Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis, both good friends of Pansy who was wondering if she should make herself known or not and walk over to them.
Daphne was leaning in close to the mirror, playing with pieces of her long, white-blonde hair, fluffing up the waves before standing back to turn from side to side, checking herself out. She had a cat like smile forming on her lips.
"I can't wait to see her face," the pretty girl said, now pouting her lips and checking her face from all angles, "she's going to absolutely die." She giggled as Tracy came out of the stall to wash her hands.
"Are you going to tell her?" asked the slender, black haired girl who was adjusting her glasses. Daphne shook her head with narrowed eyes.
"No, I want to see her face when she watches me walk down those stairs gracing the arm of Draco Malfoy."
Pansy's eyes widened with shock, bringing her palm to cover her mouth before a small, pained cry could escape and give her away. What the hell was this? Her heart throbbed as she sank slowly to her knees on the damp floor.
"Are you sure you should do that, though? I mean, it's kind of harsh, don't you think?" Tracy murmured quietly, absently running her fingers through her short hair. Daphne sneered at her mousey companion, her glacier blue eyes frosty.
"Who's side are you on, Davis? Need I remind you that it was I who got Theo to take you to the Ball?"
Tracy looked at Daphne, then averted her eyes with a silent shake of her head. The blonde smirked knowingly before continuing.
"Anyway, it's what that snooty bitch deserves. How many years as she gone around these halls thinking she was some kind of…Slytherin Princess or something. It's sickening. I mean, did she really think Draco was in love with her?" Daphne cackled meanly as if it were the funniest thing in the world to her. "So pathetic. He did a smart thing in dumping her like the trash she is. You won't see me spreading my legs like a slut to make a guy stay with me. A witch with any sense and good breeding knows that no self-respecting wizard marries a whore."
All breath seemed to leave Pansy's burning lungs as she finally collapsed with her back braced against the sinks, drawing her legs to her chest tightly with her arms wrapped around them. Her faced pressed hard against her knees while she struggled not to make a sound. Every word that dripped from the lips of her traitorous best friend was poison running through her veins, every word echoing mockingly through her head until the sound of them rose higher and louder until it became a piercing white noise that no longer made sense.
Pansy was truly alone.
She wanted to die.
Turns out, Hermione didn't need to fear a reprimand over her lateness to Potions. Luckily for her, Snape had apparently been running a little behind himself and she managed to slip in a minute or two before he did. She'd sat down with Harry and Ron and class went on surprisingly without too much trouble. During a free moment between cauldron stirrings, she asked Ron where he'd been disappearing to all day, but couldn't manage to get a straight, coherent answer out of him. He just got a little red in the face and mumbled out some weird half thought out excuses and was all fidgety until Hermione just gave up after giving him a bemused look for his strange behavior over a simple question.
The time went by quickly and as soon as they had all been dismissed, Ron raced out of there like his ass was on fire. Hermione questioned Harry, wanting to know what the hell was wrong with their friend, but he just shrugged and awkwardly made an excuse as why he also had to leave in such a hurry.
Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes as she packed her things. She was about ready to leave when she noticed that those two buffoons that were her friends, had forgotten to label and store their potions with everyone else's. She groaned, setting her bag down to take care of it. By the time she was done, the class was empty of students and Snape, all of them on their way to dinner starting soon. She grabbed her bag again and slung it over her shoulder, turning to do the same but immediately jumped out of her skin when she saw that she wasn't alone. A Slytherin was leaning casually against the doorframe in the entrance to the classroom, his arms crossed over his chest and a pleased smile pulling at his perfect lips. Hermione clutched at her chest as her heart hammered, unable to contain her gasp.
"Zabini? I...I didn't know you were there. Merlin, you startled me!" She calmed herself and stood straighter, wondering why one of her least favorite people in school was standing there without anyone else with him and why he was staring at her like she was a tasty mouse to devour. He'd always unnerved her on some deep level. Yes, he was a complete arsehat, but it ran deeper than that. There was something that just seemed off about him. Something completely…wrong.
She was snapped out of that quick thought, because Zabini was now closer than he was a moment ago, his dark green eyes bright with a predatory gleam.
"Did I?" he chuckled softly, creeping closer to her. He seemed to become even more amused when the small brunette backed up a few paces, not missing that her hand had moved to the pocket in her robes, no doubt to reach for her wand. His nostrils flared almost as if he were trying to scent the fear on her.
Hermione wrapped her fingers around her wand tightly like it was a lifeline, ready to pull it out in a moment's notice if she needed to defend herself from this boy slowly stalking her. What in Godric's name was his problem? He'd left her alone all this time, hadn't said one word to her since that fateful day in Hogsmeade, yet now he was here to mess with her. Why?
"Why are you here, Zabini? What do you want." The last was delivered flatly as she kept her voice steady and void of the nervousness that she felt. No way did she want this snake to know his actions were affecting her whatsoever. He narrowed his eyes slightly, running his tongue slowly along his full bottom lip, cocking his head to the side.
"There's much I want, Granger," he purred in a low tone, letting his eyes slide all over her curves with obvious intent, and that alone answered her question but it still left her baffled and not a little bit disgusted. Her brows lowered in consternation, whipping out her wand faster than he could blink, raising it high between them to point right at his unconcerned face.
"I'd advise you to stay away from me. I don't know what you think you're doing, but you can forget about it," she glared daggers at him, her chin lifted, "Move out of my way."
Blaise grinned, stopping his advance to prop a hip against one of the tables, folding his arms once more.
"You're one feisty little witch, aren't you, Granger?" He laughed darkly, desire swimming through his green irises, "I see why Draco has taken such an interest in you. There's that certain thing you've got going on."
Hermione gritted her teeth, as a wave of cold anger swept over her.
"Such as?" she asked caustically, wanting nothing more than to blast him straight through the stone walls.
"Your essence, silly mudblood. That very essence that just begs to be broken and brought to heel." His gaze grew dark with hunger as he said this, as if just saying the words had gotten him in a state of arousal. Hermione wrinkled her nose, feeling slightly sick at the implications, but kept her hand trained on him just in case he decided to do something stupid.
"You know…if Voldemort had succeeded, things would have turned out much differently for you," he mused, studying her as if she were a specimen under glass, "You would have served your true purpose in life." Blaise smirked at her, completely ignoring the wand still pointed at his face. Hermione started to shake with fury the more he talked, inwardly cursing the absolute gall this Slytherin possessed. How dare he speak to her this way, or anyone for that matter? He was so vile and made her skin crawl with every second she spent in his presence.
"Well, he didn't, did he? Voldemort failed just as all dictators with a radical ideal does in the end. Best you accept that and get over it. Now, if you'll excuse me…" She lowered her arm and stomped past him, unable to bear being in this room with him a moment longer. Long fingers bit into her upper arm in a tight grasp, pulling her roughly against their owner. Hot breath washed over her ear as lips pressed against it to deliver a last message.
"You would have been a slave," he hissed, squeezing her arm bruisingly hard, "Know this, you little mudblood bitch, the day will come when things are set to rights and when it does, I'll be there to make sure you know exactly where you belong. Beneath me."
Zabini's declaration shook Hermione to the core, hearing the harsh sincerity ring in his voice. Without wasting a second, a defensive spell flew from her lips sending the boy flying backwards across the length of the classroom to slam to a stop against the farthest wall. He crumpled to the floor in a yelling heap, a string of profanity and threats assaulting her ears. Before he could regain his bearings and retaliate, Hermione fled out the door and down the dungeon corridor to the stairs. As she ran, she wondered what she could or should do about what just happened. Taking points away seemed…almost childish in a way in comparison to the very adult situation, not to mention pointless. No pun intended. What could she say to McGonagall or even the Headmaster? As far as things went, it had only been a conversation albeit a bit of a threatening one.
Hermione decided to sit on this problem for now, figuring she made it clear that she was not to be messed with after effectively throwing him on his ass, and made her way quickly to the Head dorm to drop off her school things and change for dinner.
When she arrived in the Great Hall, the evening meal was already underway. Refusing to look at the Slytherin table once to see if Zabini was sending her death glares or not, she strode towards her friends, weaseling in next to Ginny. The redhead looked up and smiled in a greeting, but it fell a bit when she saw the tension on Hermione's face.
"What happened to you? Are you okay?" Ginny asked, concerned. Hermione sighed and offered up a weak smile.
"Nothing happened. I'm just a little stressed over everything going on this year, haha. I think it's all finally getting to me. I'll be alright though, don't worry!" Hermione reassured her as best she could, not wanting to delve into the truth for now. Ginny gazed at her closely for several seconds before nodding. When they both turned their focus on eating, it was then that the Head Girl noticed that once again, Ron was absent. Hermione let her fork clatter unceremoniously to her plate.
"Okay, Harry. I've had about enough of the weirdness going on around here. I know that you know where Ron is and what he's been up to and I want to know what the hell it is." She stared him down when he looked over to her completely caught off guard, his green eyes wide and panicked.
"What? Erm…He's…sick." Harry spluttered, clearing his throat and doing a great job at avoiding direct eye contact. Hermione snorted.
"Harry James Potter, you are the worst liar ever. Cut the bull and fess up already!"
Harry blushed profusely at the very accurate accusation, opening his mouth to say something when suddenly a handful of loud, high pitched sounds streaked through the Great Hall. Everyone looked up from their conversations to see what was going on when many cracks, bangs, and booms blasted towards the enchanted ceiling. Thinking there was an attack happening at Hogwarts, a large amount of students began screaming in confusion and fright and some crawled under the tables to hide. Others just froze and watched the chaos ensue while also puzzled to witness waterfalls of different colored sparks falling from the ceiling to spell out a message.
-x-
HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER, WILL YOU GO TO THE BALL WITH ME?
LOVE,
ICKLE RONNIEKINS
-x-
Hermione read the colorful message over and over again, absolutely flabbergasted. Realizing that there was no real emergency, the Professors at the staff table began calling out for everyone to remain calm; that they were indeed not being attacked and to settle down. They were not pleased by this little stunt whatsoever and McGonagall herself shot Hermione a thin-lipped, disapproving frown. The Gryffindor ducked her head in embarrassment and attempted to make herself look as small as possible to hide from all the stares she was receiving left and right. Beneath the awkwardness of the aftermath, she did feel inordinately thrilled to some degree at the elaborate way Ron went about finally asking her. Was this what he'd been up to all those times he was disappearing?
"Oi! I'm going to kill Fred and George for this. Ugh!" Ron groaned out when he showed up to their table, his eyes squinting at the glaringly huge LOVE, ICKLE RONNIEKINS bit. He should have known that they would have pulled something like this to take the piss out of him as per usual. He just hoped it was still impressive enough for Hermione. Swallowing hard when she turned to look at him with those wide, honey gold eyes, he brought his hand forward to offer the single red rose he'd been nearly crushing with nerves. Her eyes flicked down at it and bit her lip, and he thought he was done for; that she was going to reject him. Ron's heart nearly leapt out of his chest when she then met his eyes with a genuine smile of delight, reaching out to take the flower from him.
"My answer is…yes!"
A/N: Thanks for reading :)
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