Warning: humour ahead! Oh no!
Warning #2: small spoiler ahead, 'round middle of the chapter. I am not putting in some damn A/N thing where I got "ZOMG! LIKES SPOILER ALERTS!!!" sorry, it just breaks the flow and I refuse to do that. So, you are warned now. If you have not read DH (which makes me ask you WHY) then read at your own risk.
Chapter 9
The Mistletoe Predicament
"Mistletoe! Mistletoe! Students under the mistletoe!"
"Peeves, I swear, I will set the Baron on you and you will regret ever crossing my path," Draco snarled furiously.
"How? How do you expect to do that you can't move?" Peeves cackled joyfully, hovering and flying around the couple, laughing hysterically. "Ahaha! You can't move! The mistletoe won't let you until you kiss! Kissy-kissy-kissy!"
"I'll send him my bloody Patronus!" Draco shouted, eyes flashing dangerously, moving his gaze from Hermione to the annoying poltergeist.
The poltergeist stopped, pausing beside the couple as he took in Draco's face. Normally the being would not believe a word the blond said, normally he was slow to understand and lacked common sense, but the fury in the blond's eyes made him fear the living being.
"Going now!" he cried, flying off to torture some other poor students in the castle.
Draco let go of Hermione's wrists to rub his face in frustration, fearing what would happen if he dared look above his head. His frustration directed towards the woman before him turned towards the damn poltergeist. The bloody thing had probably been attracted by their argument and had decided to put the damn sprig above their heads.
"Is it really there?" he groaned, fearing the worst.
Hermione's frustration, too, faded just enough for her to worry about what this might mean if the mistletoe were there. Slowly, she tilted her head back and scowled vehemently.
"Unfortunately," she spat.
"Great!" he snarled through his fingers.
"Can't we just ignore it?" she asked.
This made him lower his hands and look at her in shock. Hermione Granger didn't know about the mistletoe spell? Hermione Granger, the witch who knew every single bloody spell in the world, did not know about magical mistletoe?
Well, this certainly was enlightening.
"We can't just walk away," he replied.
"Why not?"
"Don't say it like it's my fault," he snapped. "There's a fucking charm on it! Whenever two people meet under the damn thing, they cannot move from the spot until they kiss."
"Oh…" She looked from him to the mistletoe and back to him before frustration made its way back to her face, twisting her features. "It is your fault!"
"My fault?" he gawked, eyes hardening. "It's your bloody fault you decided to carry this damn tree! If we had just levitated the thing, we wouldn't be in this situation!"
"Ha!" she barked. "If you hadn't spent the whole time bitching, then we wouldn't be here! We would already be back in the Tower and setting it up!"
"If you hadn't let go of the fucking thing, we wouldn't be here!" he shouted, gesturing angrily with his hands.
"Well if you learnt to shut your trap and deal with stuff then I wouldn't have gotten annoyed!" She stabbed him in the chest with her finger.
"If you could learn to control your temper we wouldn't be here!"
"Argh! I can't stand you!"
"And I can't stand you!" He stepped closer, towering over her.
"I refuse to kiss you and your disgusting mouth!"
"Likewise!"
They huffed loudly, spinning on the spot, turning their backs to each other. Hermione crossed her arms angrily over her chest, thinking of various ways to hex the blond into oblivion. Draco shoved his hands into his pockets, muttering a myriad of curses directed towards the brunette.
It took several minutes for them to calm their breathing and slow their heart rates, both uttering crude words of frustration as they tried to ease their tempers.
Draco could be so…childish and irrational at times. He whined and complained and bitched…she couldn't see why she had even wanted to stay with him in the first place!
Hermione was a bloody nosey know-it-all; she always had to be right, always had to have things her way, and was always going out of her way to annoy the shit out of him. Why he even enjoyed her company, he had no idea.
She wanted to charm away all of his clothes save his boxers, steal his wand, and leave him here to carry the damn tree all by himself!
He wanted to turn around and give her a good punch to the ovaries. That would teach her.
Frustrated beyond belief, Hermione took a step forward, intending to curse him and do as she planned. She stopped in her tracks, finding some kind of invisible wall in front of her. It was as though something was refusing to let her out, pulling her back towards the mistletoe and the blond git behind her.
"Told you it won't let us leave."
"Oh, shut your mouth and stop with the snide remarks," she snapped, spinning around with the intent to kick him in the back of knees.
"You even think about hitting me, I will kiss you," he threatened.
"You wouldn't dare." She narrowed her eyes, ignoring the strange fluttering in her stomach at his threat.
"I would dare," he replied, turning around to face her. "And it would be on the lips too." He ignored the tingling sensation that went through his body at the thought.
"Ha! Like you would kiss my dirty mouth."
"I think I have enough mouthwash in my room."
"Oh! You prat!" She swung out, punching him in the arm. "I hate you!"
"Same to you, Granger," he spat. "You're lucky I don't hit women or…"
"Or what? You would hit me?"
"I would kick you in the fucking vagina!"
"Then I would kick you in the balls. If you even have anything down there."
"Oh, Granger, a lack-of-balls insult. You wound me so!"
She punched him in the arm a second time. "You're so childish!"
"Me? I'm not the one threatening to kick someone in the balls!"
"You threatened to kick my vagina!" she cried with indignation, oblivious to the hilarity of the situation.
"I can't stand you! You're a whiny, nosey bitch!"
"Well, I can't stand you either, you arrogant, pig-headed prat!"
Again, they spun around, Draco crossing his arms, Hermione shoving her hands into her pockets, and they mentally cursed each other until barely satisfied.
This time, however, they remained in the position for quite some time, unable to turn around and restart the row they had 'finished' not long ago. She huffed out her breath, furious at the blond for causing them to be stuck in this situation. He muttered a curse, enraged at their situation.
Her mind, once her temper eased enough, began to work at a way to fool the spell. There had to be some way to get out of this predicament without actually having to kiss the prat. She feared that her lips would burn off if she was forced to kiss him. There wasn't enough mouthwash in the world to eradicate his foul taste.
"Can't we…kiss each other on the cheek?"
He sighed heavily, wishing that she could catch on faster. "No, Granger, we can't."
"Why? It counts as a kiss, doesn't it?"
"There are various kinds of kisses," he explained. "According to the spell placed on the mistletoe, a kiss on the cheek counts as familial kiss."
"Which means?"
"Are you daft or just playing dumb? The mistletoe only allows family members to kiss each other on the cheek. If anyone tries to kiss someone other than a family member on the cheek as a way to break the spell, it doesn't work. The kiss has to be on the lips."
"Well, I refuse to you kiss you."
"And I refuse to kiss you!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
They exchanged positions, Draco shoving his hands into his pockets, Hermione crossing her arms as they huffed angrily in unison. There seemed to be no end to their frustration.
Sighing furiously, she realized that there would be no end to their stubbornness and determination; they were, she hated to admit, very much alike in those areas. Rubbing her face with her hands, she realized that they could be standing here for quite some time.
Irked, both at herself for her childish stubbornness and at Draco's determination, she sat down Indian style on the floor, keeping her arms crossed.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing, Malfoy? I'm sitting down." She leaned back just enough to glare at him.
He grimaced in return. "I knew that, you smartass. Why are you sitting down?"
"I'm getting comfortable." She rolled her eyes. "We're obviously going to be here for quite some time."
"And why is that?"
"I refuse to kiss you."
"And I refuse to kiss you. But that doesn't mean we can't get out of this," he sighed loudly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You can use the counter-spell."
"And that is?"
"You don't know it?" He gaped at her, unable to understand what he was hearing.
"Obviously or I would've used it already and shoved that bloody tree up your arse," she snapped.
"Fuck!"
"God damn it, Malfoy! Can't you stop swearing for one bloody second?"
"Me?" He bared his teeth at her. "You were the one only moments ago threatening to shove a tree up my arse. And, might I add, you were saying that I was, and I quote, 'bitching'. So don't get all high and mighty up my arse and act like you don't bloody well swear."
"At least I don't sound like a bloody sailor!"
"I do not sound like a sailor!"
"Yes, you do!"
"Well…you sound like American white trailer trash! And you look like it too!"
She reached out and punched him in the kneecap, causing more damage to her hand than to his limb. "Screw you, Malfoy, you probably don't even know what trailer trash is!"
"I do too! It's you!"
"Is not!"
"Is too!"
"Is not!"
"Granger, just accept it, you're trailer trash."
"Argh! Malfoy, I can't stand you! You're so high and mighty, so bloody pig-headed and arrogant, always in the right, so damn stubborn you make me look like a bloody push-over! If you're so great, so much better than me, how come you don't use the counter-spell?"
A faint blush coated his cheeks and he clenched his fists. "Because I don't know it," he admitted angrily.
She nodded knowingly, as though the whole time she was aware of this fact and was just waiting for him to embarrass himself. "That means we're stuck here until one of us gives in."
"I refuse to give in!" he shouted, standing in some strange and comical triumphant pose, fist in the air, eyes glistening in the faint light. "I will not give in to the damn mistletoe and kiss your ugly face!"
This time, she spun around and, given her angle, kicked him in the shin. He, surprised by the attack, stumbled and fell to one knee, cursing her furiously as he clenched his injured leg.
"You bitch!"
"Oh, shut your foul mouth, Malfoy. Like I want to kiss you, either," she spat. "You probably have warts or some other STI in that filthy mouth."
"You didn't have to kick me!" he cried, clenching and unclenching his fists, resisting the urge to punch her boob.
"Yes, I did! You called me ugly!"
"That's because you are!"
"I am not! I'll have you know that I am far more attractive than Pansy!"
He paused, as though contemplating his answer, before nodding his head just the slightest. "I have to agree with you on that one."
She gaped at him; eyes wide and mouth open as she took in his words. "W…What?"
"You heard me. I agree with you that you are more attractive than Pansy. Then again, so are a lot of other girls in this school…"
She saw the way his eyes hardened at Pansy's name, saw how the tension returned to his body full-force, far stronger than when they had been arguing just seconds ago.
"Malfoy…"
"What?" he snapped.
"I…what happened between Pansy and you yesterday?" Her cheeks warmed with a faint blush.
Sitting back on his bum, he rubbed his shin unconsciously, wondering if this was some ploy to distract him or if she was truly sincere. He wasn't too sure; even when he examined her face for a sign of either one, he couldn't find any indication that she was lying or being honest.
Deciding to entertain her, using this as a way to distract himself from his predicament and avoid further confrontation for now, he rubbed his face.
"We got into a stupid argument."
"About what?"
He cocked a brow. "What does it matter?"
"I'm interested and it's something to pass the time," she pointed out. "Better than arguing and ignoring each other."
He silently agreed with her. "Well…" he sighed loudly, knowing that the conversation was now heading into uncharted territory, "it was about you."
"Me?" she choked, unsure of whether she should blush or not. Her cheeks decided on their own to redden as her stomach flipped. "Why was it about me?"
"She wanted to know about what happened two days ago, when we were outside. Pansy is…very obsessive. I understand that she cares about me but she takes things too far at times, especially since we're far from a couple. She got rather…jealous at the idea of you and I building snowmen."
"But why? It was just snowmen, we didn't really do anything that might make people think we're more than friends," she blurted out, unable to understand what he was getting at. Hermione, while the brightest witch her age, still had some difficulties understanding the mechanics of the human mind. She understood some things but not everything.
"Like I said, Pansy is extremely obsessive and possessive. When she sinks her claws into something, she sinks them really deep. I just happened to be that something. She got jealous, very jealous, at the idea of me outside with another girl. Especially since she has been trying to convince me for forever to go outside and play with her." His cheeks mottled red when Hermione blushed brightly. "In the snow, Granger, in the snow. Like we did. Not…in any sexual sense or anything…"
She coughed loudly, clearing her throat before facing him. "I…I get it, don't worry."
"All right," he mumbled, rubbing his throat at the sudden awkwardness. "Anyway…she got really angry and started spewing out all of this stuff. Very offensive things, actually," he admitted. "I'd rather not say, to be honest, but I suppose you have an idea of what Pansy would say about you."
Hermione slowly nodded, knowing that Mudblood would be the first insult Pansy would use. "What did you do?" She was almost afraid of the answer, afraid that he had agreed with Pansy, even more terrified that he had defended her.
The thought of him defending her made her stomach twist uncomfortably, sending the strange warmth rushing through her body as an odd, electrical tingling sensation went through her veins. She didn't like it; it was weird and new, and she didn't like weird things happening to her body. It confused her…it reminded her that she wasn't as in control as she liked to be.
"I told her that she was wrong," he said softly, hugging his knees to his body. "I was sick and tired of her ranting and bitching. What she said was wrong; it's not right to say things like that. I know it sounds almost hypocritical of me to say this, especially since I abused that word when I was younger, but…at least I grew up."
She nodded slowly, understanding just what he was trying to say. "You don't have to say any more…"
"But I do," he admitted. "I do…I…I never really got to say this, never had a chance to say it in the past three years." He ran a hand through his hair, weariness and stress etching his face, making him appears decades older. The scar stood out brightly on his pale cheek, a reminder of horrible times and darkness.
"I wasn't always the brightest kid when it came to common sense. I could easily blame my upbringing for a lot of my thoughts but, once you reach a certain age, you should know the difference between right and wrong on your own. When I reached that age, I distorted my view of right and wrong. I purposely ignored the difference; I was arrogant and selfish, I thought of myself as superior and everyone else was inferior. I was childish and rude and said a lot of things I regret. You didn't deserve my cruelty and I only realized that recently. I grew up during the war; I finally realized what I was doing, how wrong I had been.
"The war changed us, all of us. Some people, it changed for the worse, but it did change others for the better. Goyle and Zabini, for example, changed for the better. I won't go into details," he added. "I know that I grew up…I reconsidered my thoughts of right and wrong, I reexamined myself and my thoughts, and spent the past four years reorganizing every part of my thinking. Everything I thought was right before had been obliterated. I…I'm not the same person I used to be," he admitted softly. "I'm not perfect, but I'm working on it. There's still some of the old me in there," he tapped his head, "but, I like to think that there's enough of the new me to overpower it."
Hermione listened to every word, taking in everything he said, understanding what he meant to say. He wasn't the same person he used to be but he wasn't completely reformed. He was still stubborn, was still arrogant, but at least he had a proper sense of right and wrong. He knew what was right to say and what should be left unsaid. He accepted everyone as his equal and even though sometimes he was pig-headed and superior in thoughts or actions, she knew that he actually thought otherwise.
Draco Malfoy, she realized, had changed and was still changing and it would take a long time before the teachings of his father and his misguided thoughts were completely destroyed.
"I understand," she said softly. "The war…it changed a lot of us. We're a lot more cynical, we find enjoying things harder to do; we've all grown up very fast in the past few years. Everyone forgets that, really, we're just children. I may be twenty but I'm still a child. We still have some misguided thoughts, some people more so than others, but at least we have people like you, making an effort to change their ways of thinking." She smiled at him. "It's nice to know that."
He nodded slowly, feeling a faint blush creeping over his cheeks at her kind words. He had never spoken these thoughts to anyone before, not even Zabini or Goyle, his closest friends. He hated the way he used to be, hated the way he used to treat everyone around him, and he wanted to change things for the better.
It was a long process but, he was happy to realize, he was changing. That was all that mattered. He was progressing.
"So…what did Pansy say when you told her that she was wrong?"
He looked up at the brunette, saw the way her mind was working away in her eyes, saw how she was thinking over his words, how she was contemplating their situation and his confession. He saw everything in her eyes; her soul was exposed to him and she didn't even know it.
It made his heart jump erratically and he wasn't sure if it was with joy or another odd emotion.
Swallowing thickly, he unconsciously hugged his knees closer. "She got really upset, started shouting all of these things, kept calling you that word, and I got fed up. I told her that I was sick of her and didn't want to be seen with her anymore. I thought she was going to slap me." He chuckled at the memory of Hermione slapping him back in third year. "Then she just ran off. To be honest, I could care less. She hasn't spoken to me since and life has been better without her."
"I suppose she still has some growing up to do, doesn't she?"
"Yeah, she needs to mature a lot more than the rest of us. But we really can't do anything; she has to make the changes herself. We can help her, but we can't do anything more than that. It won't happen overnight, either."
"Hopefully what you said will sink in and she'll realize a few things," Hermione said, smiling at the blond before her.
She had never really seen him like this before her, baring his soul out to her without fear. It was odd, new and, she silently admitted, she liked knowing that he didn't mind doing this. It meant that he trusted her enough to tell her everything and let her see just what was going on his mind.
Gooseflesh rose over her, the tingling sensation returning with sudden warmth that filled her veins and made her heart flip with the oddest of emotions. Her stomach jerked, twisting as though a thousand butterflies were fluttering wildly within it. Unconsciously, she rubbed her arms, hugging them close to her chest as she tried to push back the curious sensations.
Draco Malfoy trusted her…
It made her smile, a small one that made her eyes glow with mirth as she contemplated just what it meant.
He trusted her…
"Granger…"
"Thank you." Her voice was soft, a tender and faint whisper in the silence of the corridor. He cocked a brow, ready to reply with a question, when she continued. "That was too kind of you, defending me like that. You could have easily lied, you could have agreed with her, but you didn't. You know…you're a really nice guy. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
He was lost for words. His cheeks mottled red with blush and his fingers dug into his shins as he fought the urge to bury his face into his knees. His heart fluttered, pounding excitedly against his chest as it became rather difficult to breathe. His entire body tingled, as though electricity were coursing through him and jolting his nerves.
"I…uh…" He fought for some kind of response as he battled to regain his sanity. "Well…you're welcome, I suppose. But that doesn't mean I'll kiss you."
"Ha, as if," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Don't get your hopes up."
He rolled his eyes this time, biting back a crude remark. Instead, he blurted out, "What happened this morning?"
Any mirthful tension faded from the air, replaced by an uncomfortable kind that thickened the air and made it difficult to breathe. He watched as she battled various impulses, mentally kicking himself in the arse for being so dumb as to ask her that. He hadn't even meant to ask it; it had just come out. He had been thinking that it was only fair; he poured his heart out to her and now it was her turn, and the words had just come out.
"Why do you care?" she asked softly, cynicism and suspicion hardening her gaze.
"I…well…I noticed you looked upset and, well, it's only fair. I told you about what happened yesterday so, this time, you get to pour your heart out to me." He hoped that this argument would be deemed strong enough for her not to smack him or call him a prat, although, at this point in time, he would prefer another row over anything else.
"Well…I…I suppose you make a good point." Somehow, for the strangest of reasons, a part of her wanted to tell him about this morning. She longed to tell someone about it, to vent about it and have someone understand her as she spoke to them. For the strangest of reasons, she knew that the best person to tell this to was Draco.
It had to be, she tried to convince herself, because of what he had said just moments ago.
"I, well…you see, Ron and I had a row this morning, after breakfast. I just finished saying goodbye to Harry and Ginny when he showed up." She shifted positions, hugging her knees to her chest the same way Draco did. "I was alone and wandless; I'd left it in my room, thinking I didn't need it. Well, he showed up and started saying all of these things. He kept asking me what you had that he didn't. I suppose he, like Pansy, is a little possessive and jealous." She laughed, a hollow sound that hurt to hear. "He said all of these odd things, started making the strangest of claims, saying that I was in…love with you."
He scoffed loudly, "Yeah, right. Me in love with you is as likely as Filch getting married."
She nodded slowly, ignoring the way her stomach twisted painfully at his words. "I completely agree. Ron went off on me, saying that if I valued our relationship, then I would 'get my arse on the train'."
"What relationship?"
"My words exactly," she agreed. "When I told him this…he went mental; he got this crazed look in his eyes, telling me that I didn't appreciate him, screaming at me. I was lucky enough to step off the staircase and that it moved when it did; I am positive that if he had gotten his hands on me, he would've throttled me." She rubbed her face in exhaustion, choking as the sobs threatened to return. It hurt…it felt so raw, so painful, and it hurt to know that Ron was such a prat.
Especially since, barely a year ago, she had been madly in love with him.
It made her wonder just what their relationship would've been like if they had gotten together.
"If he had laid his hands on you, he would've had Potter and me to deal with."
She jumped at the growling tone in Draco's voice, eyes widening at the way his face darkened with a feral rage she had never seen before. His eyes grew stormy, lips thinning as he fought back the urge to go out and kill the Weasel in the slowest, most painful fashion possible.
"It's all right," she said softly. "Ron's a right git at times but it doesn't mean you have to hurt him. I…I suppose it goes with what you said. A lot of people changed during the war, he lost his brother, had nearly lost Bill the year before, and we were all stretched very thin. He…he was there when Fred was killed. I think it changed him, made him care a little too much about those close to him. He gets over possessive, I think, and tries to overprotect everyone. It doesn't help that it's you," she admitted.
"Why? I know that Weasel isn't exactly my best mate, but why would you staying with me, of all people, make things harder?"
"You're everything he isn't," she said softly. "You're rich, you're powerful, and now you are a changed man and a war hero. People may not entirely trust you, some still think that you're a Death Eater through and through, but, according to the important people, you are a great hero. I know Ron may be higher than you in that area, but he still gets jealous. It doesn't hurt that you're more attractive than him," she added, fighting back a blush that threatened to consume her face.
He tugged uncomfortably at his scarf, taking a moment to remove it, muttering something about heat and using it as an excuse to explain the blush on his face. Clearing his throat, he nodded slowly. "I see. But just because Weasel gets jealous sometimes doesn't mean he has any right to hurt you."
"I know," she sighed. "But he's still my friend…"
"Stop making excuses for him," Draco snapped, eyes flashing with sudden irritation. "You act like he isn't all that bad; you make up all of these excuses for his and Potter's treatment of you. Why can't you just open your eyes and see how they've mistreated you?" He unfurled his legs, leaning towards her. "Tell me, when you lied and got tortured at my house, did they even properly thank you?"
"I…well…Harry said I did amazing," she mumbled. "But…really…we were at war. We weren't exactly thinking about that once we got away."
"Stop making up damn excuses!" Draco shouted, pounding his fist onto the floor. "Stop lying to me and yourself!"
"I …Harry's not all that bad!" she cried. "He doesn't pester me anymore to help with homework, he understands me a bit more."
"Fine, so Potty's a bit nicer than the Weasel, so what?"
"You're right, okay? You're right!" she shouted, tears threatening to overflow. "You're fucking right! They have been abusive; they used me for homework, for my intelligence, and never thanked me for anything. They took all of the glory at the end of the war and left me with nothing. And Ron…Ron just assumed I was his because I was infatuated with him for a few years. He acts like he owns me, like I'm just some object. But you know what? They're still my friends."
"Friends do not treat friends the way Weasel treats you."
"What do you want me to do about it? I can't do anything!"
"Confront them! Tell them how wrong they are; tell them that they can't use you anymore! I don't care how you do it, just do it! Tell them so that they stop making you cry!"
She pulled back suddenly, cocking her head to one side with perplexity. "Who ever said that they made me cry?"
"I…" He tensed under her inquisitorial gaze, fidgeting uncomfortably as she glared at him. "I…well…I know that they've made you cry in the past."
"Well…it's true," she admitted quietly. "But really, we were just children. They didn't know what they were saying!"
"They knew exactly what they were saying and what it would do," he snarled, grateful for the return of their infuriation. "They knew that it hurt. We weren't stupid when we were eleven, misguided, yes, but we knew what made people cry and what didn't. Even Potty and Weasel aren't stupid enough not to know that."
"Yes but…Harry's apologized," she admitted. "He did it last summer, told me how sorry he was for treating me like he did."
"And obviously Weasel didn't say a thing," Draco countered.
"Well, no…I mean, like I said, Ron's had a difficult time…"
"Stop making up fucking excuses!"
"But…it's true. He hasn't exactly had the perfect life, so I understand if his self-esteem is rather low. I understand his need to be in the limelight; he's never really been at the center of focus in his family and all…"
"Granger," he growled in warning.
"I know…that doesn't excuse what he's done," she sighed in defeat.
"Exactly!"
"But, that doesn't mean we can't be friends."
"He doesn't fucking deserve your friendship!" Draco shouted.
"W…What?"
"You're too fucking nice; you're nice to everyone, helping everyone out, always thinking about others before yourself. And Weasel takes advantage of that. He takes advantage of you. A prick like that doesn't deserve a nice person like you as his friend."
"Maybe you're right," she admitted. "Maybe he doesn't deserve someone like me. But we've been through so much together that I just can't stop being his friend. We'll get through this, just like we got through everything else."
"I…"
"What're you guys doing?"
Their heads spun to face the owner of the voice, finding mousy-haired Dennis Creevey standing nearby, confusion making him look younger than he was.
Wiping furiously at her eyes, making it look like she was rubbing her face, Hermione swallowed thickly. "How much have you heard, Dennis?"
"Nothing really," he admitted honestly. "I heard shouting and decided to investigate. Are you going to tell me why you're sitting in the middle of the hall with Malfoy?"
Sighing at the reminder of their predicament, Hermione gestured to the sprig of mistletoe above their heads. "That's why."
"But…can't you just walk away?"
It was at times like these that she was sharply reminded of how young Dennis was and that he, like her, was Muggle-Born.
She quickly explained the charm over the mistletoe, adding that neither she nor Draco knew the counter-charm.
"Oh, I see. So that means that you two have to kiss, doesn't it?"
"Yes." She became wary, noticing how his eyes glowed in a way that reminded her sharply Colin's when the boy found something fascinating.
"Dennis…" she began.
"I'll be right back!" he squealed, sprinting off, probably headed towards the Gryffindor Common Room.
Groaning loudly, she buried her face in her hands. Draco, on the other hand, remained blissfully unaware of just how their situation had taken a turn for the worse.
"What's the matter, Granger?"
"Dennis," she moaned, "he's going to get his camera."
"What?"
"He's gone to get his camera and then he'll come back here and wait for us to kiss."
"But…why?"
"It's interesting to him. He, like Colin, would make a good reporter; they're fascinated by the oddest of things, most of which are very scandalous."
"Well then, he'll be waiting for some time, won't he?"
She lifted her head from her hands, glancing at his smirking face. "Why do you say that?"
"I refuse to kiss you and you refuse to kiss me. It's simple; he'll wait for a while before getting fed up, then he'll go back to the Gryffindor tower and sulk." Draco's smirk widened. "Or, we can use him to get McGonagall, who'll fix this damn situation with a wave of her wand."
"Malfoy, you're a genius!"
"I already knew that, Granger, no need for you to scream it." He looked at his nails, examining them in a way that reminded her of a cocky, self-assured, charismatic, and chauvinistic man.
"But…there's a problem," she sighed suddenly.
"And that is?"
"What if McGonagall doesn't know the counter-spell?"
"Why do you always say something to ruin the moment?" he retorted, smirk faltering.
"Because it's probably true; if she knew how to remove the spell, I'm certain that she would've done so a long time ago. It would prevent awkward moments like these."
"Then how about Flitwick?" Draco asked, almost begging for her to say that the teacher knew the counter-spell.
"She would have had him use the counter-spell," Hermione reminded Draco. "Same goes for every other teacher in the school."
"So…you're saying that we're really stuck here unless we kiss?"
"Yes."
"Fuck!"
"I know."
"Gods…" he groaned, rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair in frustration.
He had to find some way out of this predicament and, at the moment, the only way out seemed to be locking lips with the brunette in front of him. He didn't know why the thought made his body yearn; sending the strangest of tingling sensations down his spine to fill him, and it confused the hell out of him. That was one of the reasons he didn't want to risk kissing the woman; he was afraid of what might happen to his body.
He had to admit, she wasn't unattractive. She had a lovely heart-shaped face and full rosy lips that almost beckoned to be kissed. Her thickly lashed doe eyes were the most captivating amber colour, reminding him of aged whiskey, and she got the slightest of dimples whenever she smiled.
Her body, to boot, wasn't bad either. A lovely figure, slightly widening at the hips and full enough breasts that he knew, if he were to try and cup them, he would get a handful. But, he reminded himself, he would never dare touch her breasts.
Unless he was going to punch her boob, but that was different.
He really didn't want to kiss her…but, he felt like he had no choice.
"All right," he sighed loudly. "I'll do it."
She arched a brow, curious to know what he meant. "Do what?"
"I'll…kiss you."
She choked, throat closing as her body reacted in the most curious of ways. It was as though fireworks were going off in every nerve ending, blood racing rapidly through her veins as her heart pounded with something oddly close to joy. She gasped for air as her cheeks burned with a vivid blush and electrical pulses made her stomach flip excitedly.
She wanted to ask him to repeat what he had just said, wanted to be sure that that was what she'd heard, but she feared that if she heard the words a second time, her body might explode.
"W…Why?" she heaved.
"Isn't it obvious? I don't feel like spending the whole night out here." He gestured to the window, pointing out that it had darkened considerably outside. "Besides, it seems that, eventually, we will have to kiss. So we may as well get it done and over with it."
"I…"
She had to admit, she agreed with his reasoning. Besides, it wasn't like this would be her first kiss and it was definitely not like they had to have sex. But still…it was kissing Draco and she knew that, if they were to kiss, they would probably avoid each other for weeks on end.
Damn it, things were being screwed up more and more!
Sighing heavily, she looked him over; wondering if she would even dare kiss him. He was rather attractive, that she admitted. His features had softened, lips just plump enough to be lovely but not overly feminine, nose long enough to not be overbearing, despite being slightly pointed at the tip, and his whole facial structure was pleasant and easy to look at. But it was his eyes that held her captive. Grey steel, an icy gaze that darkened with rage and lightened with joy. They were a wonderful quicksilver surrounded by thick, pale lashes.
It didn't hurt that his body was decent enough, tall and lean, muscular enough to be sexy; she knew that he had a six-pack and that, unfortunately, he did have a nice buttocks. Damn bastard; it had been cruel to moon her like he had…then again; she had barged into his room.
It's true…it wasn't like she would be kissing Neville or Harry, two people she considered to be average in appearance and too close to her. At least if she were to kiss Draco, it would not be like kissing a brother.
He made a good point, she added. There was no other way they would be able to get out of this damn predicament; they would have to suck it up and kiss each other.
On the lips…
Resisting the urge to swear, she rubbed her eyelids with the tips of her fingers.
"We really have no other choice."
"I know," he sighed.
"I…I suppose if it means getting our freedom…I mean…even though it'll be gross and all, kissing you …I suppose I'll do it."
"Good. Let's do it now."
She opened an eye to glare at him. "Now? Give me a few minutes at least to ready myself for the torture I'm about to be put through."
He got to his feet, brushing himself off and gestured for her to do the same. As soon as they kissed, he wanted to get the fuck out of here.
"No choice, Granger," he said as she got to her feet. "I want to get this done before Creevey gets back with that damn camera of his. It won't make things easier on either of us if he gets a picture of us locking lips."
"I suppose." She brushed herself off, gnawing on her lower lip as anxiety flooded her system.
"Okay, I'm ready."
"I…all right…" She took a tentative step forward before taking one back. Her eyes flashed with fear and worry as she began to wring her hands.
"I…all right…okay…I…I can do this…No…No I can't." She rubbed her face, moving as much as she could, constantly moving forward and then backward, unable to make up her mind. "I can do this…yes, I can…I can do this…Gods, I can't…I can't kiss you. It's just…wrong…I can't do this…"
"Oh, come on Granger, it's not like I'm asking you have sex with me," he snapped. "Come over here and stop your pacing." He reached out, grabbing her wrists and tugging her to him.
Gently placing his hands on her shoulders, he rubbed her tenderly with his thumbs, looking down at her. "Really, I thought you've kissed people before; I thought this would be no big deal."
"But…but…"
He gently cupped her left cheek, tilting her head back. "Let's just get this done and over with, okay? Then we can go back to arguing and screaming at each other. Sound good?"
"I suppose…" Her cheeks became feverishly hot with blush, heart hammering wildly in her chest as he took one step closer. She could feel his body heat radiating off of him, saw the way his eyes suddenly darkened with an emotion she had never experience before in her life.
Slowly, he leaned down and she felt her eyes flutter shut, excitement coursing through her veins, making her blood pound in her ears. Tentatively, his lips touched hers for a fraction of a second, just brushing before they fully covered hers.
They were soft and warm, gentle against hers, as tender as his hand, barely moving against hers. Then, suddenly, they moved just the slightest bit, shifting their position.
When this happened, fireworks exploded in the back of her mind. Electricity pulsed throughout her body, making her heart beat unnaturally fast and the breath to be taken away from her. She felt heat pool in regions she had never known existed, felt her body tense up, heat and flush in a matter of seconds.
Everything became a whirlwind of sensations, warmth and lust suddenly combined, threatening to overwhelm and consume her as their lips moved. She yielded under his embrace, opening up to him and his kiss, allowing their lips to explore one another's, giving in more and more to the temptation of his embrace.
He was breathless, his mind and sanity obliterated by all consuming heat. A strange form of desire licked at his body, tugging at him somewhere in his stomach as the organ knotted violently, suddenly assaulted by thousands of butterflies. His pulse quickened, blood rushing in his veins to make his body become feverishly hot, and he became unaware of everything but her soft lips on his.
They were so soft…so warm…so perfect against his.
Slowly, tentatively, he felt her tongue creep out to touch the tip of his.
Click! Click! Click!
"Wow! What great shots!"
"You little bastard!"
Draco spun away from Hermione's arms, waving his fist furiously at the mousy-haired boy who hurried away. "You better run, you little git! When I catch you, both you and that camera won't live to see another day!"
She was left standing there, panting for air, wondering just what in the world had happened. Her lips felt swollen and moist and her heart thundered against her ribs. Never, not even when kissing Ron, had she felt such a violent and pleasurable sensation.
Unconsciously, she reached up and touched her lips, wondering just what had made her experience such a powerful reaction.
Draco spun back around, grimacing angrily. "That little brat…when I catch him…" He broke off at the sight of Hermione. Suddenly, every sensation he had felt when kissing her came back with full force.
Swallowing thickly, he looked down at the brunette, wondering just how to react in order to make the situation and the unbearable tension dissolve.
"I…well…that was the foulest thing I have ever experienced," he lied, proud that his voice did not shake and that the lie was not obvious.
"What?" She was instantly pulled from her reveries, unconsciously grateful that he had known how to diffuse the situation. She would go over her thoughts later, when she was alone and no one would be able to see the emotions in her eyes.
"It's no wonder," he sighed, pulling out and waving his wand to levitate the tree. "I mean, you've only kissed Krum and Weasel."
"Well, they kiss a whole lot better than you," she spat, picking up the bag and following him back to the Tower.
"Don't flatter yourself or them," he retorted.
"Right now I feel like vomiting, that's how foul the kiss was."
"Likewise."
"Good!"
"Good."
"So…when are we going to decorate the damn Tower?"
"What?"
"You heard me, bad-kisser, when do you want to decorate the Tower with your asinine decorations?"
"Decorations can't be asinine; they don't have a brain," she pointed out, closing in behind him.
"Point proven; if they don't have a brain, they must be stupid," he replied. "So…do you want to decorate before or after I kill Creevey?"
"You can't kill him! Just…take his camera."
Draco smirked back at her. "You would've made a good Slytherin."
"Oh, go fuck yourself."
Oooh, Chapter 9 is done.
So…I had them kiss. I originally had them kiss and then act immediately like it was super gross, gagging and everything, but I like this way better.
I don't want them falling in love just yet, it's too soon, but the kiss will help them understand their feelings towards each other. They'll be confused by their reactions and want to know why their bodies acted the way they did.
Everything will be there in upcoming chapters, don't worry.
Today's recipe is to go with Chapter 8's recipe. This is the icing that goes on top of the Cocoa Sugar Cookies
Royal Icing Paint
Ingredients:
¼ cup meringue powder½ cup water
4 ½ cups icing sugarPaste food colouring
In large bowl, beat meringue powder with water until foamy, about 2 minutes. Beat in sugar until stiff, about 9 minutes (try using medium, tends to go a bit faster). Divide between 2 bowls; tint 1 of the bowls desired colour. Divide each bowl in half to make 2 white and 2 coloured small bowls. Cover with damp cloths to prevent drying out.
Tip: let iced cookies dry and set for 24 hours before storing.
Brought to you by: Canadian Living, December 2008, page 176.
Review overview:
Flames = used to fuel the irritation and desire between Draco and Hermione. Ha! In your face!
Constructive criticism = always welcome. Please point out any mistakes you see and mention to them to me in your review.
Adoration = LOVED! I appreciate every review of adoration because it increases my ego and confidence.
Cookies of love to everyone. ^.^
Until the next chapter…
Thank you for reading.