Gryffindor Tower
Harry just came back from detention with Dolores Umbridge, the new Ministry-appointed DADA teacher with a distaste of underage magic use, and he looked possibly bothered. Any time with the woman was insulting to anyone with half a brain, but it was still much bigger than the unqualified professors. She was the government's set of eyes to watch the new generation of magical blood, monitoring them as if they were nothing much than breeding stock. Umbridge assigned Harry detention after one class. He had confronted her with the truth of Voldemort, in front of every single student nonetheless, still her reaction was hardly professional.
Harry slumped down into an armchair near the fire.
Hermione touched his hand gently. "You have to realize everyone has spent their summer reading about you. They believe Dumbledore's gone mad. You don't look much better. No one is going to listen right away."
"When will they, then, Hermione? When more people are murdered? When the very stones of Hogwarts are torn down? Or will it be when I'm struck dead that they'll finally realize he's out there, and he wants all of us. Not just me. He wants the world."
"Easy, mate." Ron shuffled closer. "Me and Hermione believe you."
The friends settled in with their books and homework in silence. Hermione settled as she began to scrawl over her parchment when she caught a glimpse of red hair out the corner of her eye. She spun around and saw the twins marketing their rubbish sicky snacks to the first-year students. One boy's chin swelled near thrice it's normal size within a matter of a minute. Another chewed something noisily, as red bloated dots appeared through his skin. More and more grew as he chewed. The boils swelled into white pockets, blaringly red and uncomfortable. As a prefect, the duty fell to Hermione to confront the matter.
"You guys cannot test these products on students." She crossed her arms.
"Oh, come on, Hermione." Fred whined.
George continued on. "Yeah, come on. We're trying to make a profit here."
"Business is business," Fred said. "We Weasley's have an obligation to help the poor lowly students of the school gain some fun in these boring halls."
Hermione gasped. "Barbaric! It's completely unethical. Did you even tell him what he ate?"
The young student sat against the wall with his face perched over the opening of the garbage bin with a particular green hue across the blush of his cheeks. The small green eyes turned glassy as he hurled a thick wave of vomit into the bin while other students gawked with disgust.
Lavender Brown stood uneasily from her chair. She clutched her mouth with all might, gargling something back in her throat. No one made out a word before she fell to the floor and puked in retaliation. Everyone was shocked. They backed away quickly as she gagged and puked farther across the rug.
"Oh Merlin! I think I'm going to be sick," Seamus exclaimed.
"Lavender!" Pavarti fell beside her friend, rubbing her back. "It's okay. Come on now. We'll get you to Madam Pomfrey."
The first student vomited again, splitting the crowd of Gryffindors. Madness fell as they all scrambled away from the puke and the puking.
Fred and George chuckled amongst themselves as the tower turned to insanity. Lavender was rushed by, and Hermione caught their amusement with a sharp look. Her arms were still crossed. The tips of her shoes tapped against the floor in a steady hum.
"I should send you both to detention for that," she explained calmly. "As a Gryffindor prefect, it's within my power to do so."
The twins were left unbothered. Detention was nothing to the pair, often being there for their numerous humorous misdeeds.
"Alright, Hermione."
"Yeah." George nodded. "Detention will show us."
"No, it won't. That's why I know something better. I'll just send a letter to your mum and see what she's got to say about it. There won't be much profit when you're bound to the Burrow for the next ten years now, will there?"
Hermione left the twins in stunned silence as she returned to her awaiting school books, warm to the touch from the light of the crackling fire. She continued with her homework as the students dispersed themselves to quiet again. It was peaceful. Calm. She read the pages of her book with contentment with the pride of a lion for being mature enough to ensure her house was not a joke. Back behind her, Fred cleaned up Lavender's mess.
Thank goodness, Hermione thought. The thought of touching anything but baby spit-up made caused the queasy stomach inside her to gag uncontrollably. One more time of seeing Lavender would have done her in. The twins would have definitely gotten detention then. A fit full of vomit all over a common room because of one Weasley product would have gotten the merchandise banned, too.
Blast! The ideas always came after the fact.
Ron and Harry watched her for a while, bewildered at the unusual calm of the prefect they knew to be an excitable person when the unexpected happened, before they turned back. Quills scratched against their parchment not long after. They muttered amongst themselves, interrupted only when Hermione heard something incorrect. Once or twice a first year came close to ask a question. Hermione smiled happily. The young students thanked her with relief to not test Snape's patience too soon, and then she turned back to her assignments.
Sometime later the gentle hum of the Gryffindor Tower was splintered by the hardy pace of Angelina Johnson as she stalked toward Harry. Hermione moved out of the way to avoid being stepped on with a glare.
"Heard you got detention with Umbridge," Angelina said in a tone befitting her mood. "Of all things to happen to the Gryffindor team. You realize you won't be able to watch tryouts if you've gotten detention."
"I know, but -."
"Tell her You-Know-Who was a figment of your bloody imagination. I don't rightfully care what you believe. Just make sure you're there!"
She walked off without another word. It left an uncomfortable tension in the air. All eyes turned to Harry. The mention of the topic, again, left everybody a bit on edge. So many wondered about Cedric, what happened that night in the Maze, how Voldemort was able to rise again. Hermione felt the questions surface in first years as they sat wide-eyed, ears keenly tuned to sound around them. To them, it was all stories. They weren't there when Cedric came back, dead. It was a thing they were spared, and Hermione envied them for it. At one point things were so innocent so her, too. That was long ago.
Harry rose suddenly. His face twisted uncomfortably as he walked through the eyes of the tower toward his dorm. Hermione watched in agony. He shouldn't be alone. That look in him was the pure agony of the situation he always was in, trying to get through. She never questioned he'd make it through; he was strong. But at what cost would it come? Would there be much of him left in the end?
Ron fiddled with the pages of his book, flipping back and forth mindlessly, when he felt eyes on him. He looked up and nearly leapt out of his skin.
"Blast it. Hermione. You scared me."
He clutched at his chest dramatically.
Hermione was not amused. "Go with him. He needs you."
"Who? Harry?" Ron questioned. "He'll be right as rain soon enough."
"Ronald! So help me, I'll curse you with Dancing Legs if you don't get a move on."
Ron was flabbergasted. "Alright, you nutter. I'll go. Put your wand down."
With the boys gone and her tension high, Hermione left the tower in need for some space. She needed it more often as the drama of the world became a thick cloud she couldn't leave. If it wasn't the immature rivalry with Slytherin and all things therein, it was the Ministry or the Order or gossip. Hermione kept herself focused on her school and friends, but there was so much doubt. She feared she wouldn't be enough, not for the next part that was sure to come. It was only a matter of time before You-Know-Who was in full power.
In the end, what would be left for someone like her?
She unknowingly toyed with the smooth gems inside her jumper pocket. Draco's necklace still rested there. It was too precious for daily use, being far too grand for her, but she still loved it close. It was real. Draco's feelings for her were real. Her life was real. All of it. Not a lie, or joke, or one of Malfoy's dumb plots to come out on top; it was more.
Distracted by her thoughts, she didn't notice a very despicable professor walking down the hall. She heard the small clicks of the woman's hurried steps. Hermione narrowed her eyes carefully.
Delores Umbridge was a stubby woman who, with heels, only stood to Hermione's shoulder. She had a plump face, covered in her layers of makeup. Locks of short, wiry hair poked from below a tiny pink hat lined in white pearls. Neither liked the other. Hermione was too smart to be caught off guard yet the Professor tried to stump her every chance she got. It was no real shock that Sirius told them of the awful laws she supported. The desecration of magical beasts and their right to the magical world. It was not so unlike the agenda of the Dark Lord.
"Ms. Granger," the teacher greeted curtly. "Watch the time of day lest you find yourself in detention. I'd hate to have you accompanying Mr. Potter to my office."
The halls were silent.
"Is that a threat?"
There came that horrid, girlish laugh from the woman. It rattled Hermione to her core. Something so evil in something to childish. The irony was not lost.
"Ms. Granger, I find it very disrespectful that a half-breed as you could have such aggression toward magical authority. The Ministry has given you so much it seems. Top of your class, are you not?" The woman smiled. No matter how much Hermione wished for it, no line of pink gawdy lipstick appeared across the white of her teeth. "I had more hopes for a bright witch your age. It's not like many of your kind are given a stellar magical education such as this. A wee bit ungrateful, if you ask me. The Minister of Magic will be quite disappointed at the hostility that Hogwarts breeds in its students."
"If it's such a stellar education, why are you trying to prune it?" Hermione asked, undeterred at the clear insult to her heritage. Umbridge made a point to observe that Hogwarts had many of practices the Ministry deemed inappropriate, and her sole goal was to prune the school to its fundamental core.
"Hmph," was the only reply.
She marched down the hallway with her head still held high. Hermione kept walking, the abandoned girl's prefect bathroom appeared before her as a gateway of escape. The threat of Moaning Myrtle wasn't enough to deter her. She sensed the clicking turn back around, toward her.
Umbridge must have changed her mind about detention.
Hermione walked faster. Her slippers made little squeaks against the stone floors as she moved with as much grace as one could have speed-walking.
The echoing clicks stopped. Hermione held her breath. There was no way she wasn't done for.
A few silent steps of Umbridge, as the woman's less than pleasant voice sounded down the halls. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Good evening. I trust your classes are going well."
His voice was a spark inside. As it filled the halls so did her belly with the soft warm touches of butterfly wings. Hermione turned and saw the lean figure a bit down the hall. Umbridge a short lump in his silhouette. Her back was turned to Hermione, but Draco was able to taunt her with a few deep looks as he spoke with the professor easily.
"My father is quite well, thank you. He was thrilled you were appointed to Hogwarts." Draco's cool eyes settled over Hermione like the silver wash of a moon. She watched him intently. Something above her head caught his eye. She glanced back. The Prefects bathroom? Hermione touched the knob. Draco, never missing a beat, kept the conversation with Umbridge. "The state of the school has truly fallen over the years. I daresay it's a pathetic excuse of a school that let's giant oafs like that Hagrid teach class."
Hermione stopped short. Her tongue quivered to speak. A sweat captured her palms, anger licked higher through her spine. She knew it was bad taste to curse someone behind their back, but Dolores Umbridge wasn't too high to do it herself. Or so Hermione believed.
However, the action would only land Harry into more trouble, and the whole reliability of the Order into jeopardy. Begrudged. Boiled over. She concluded to confront Draco about it. So help her, she would strike him again if she had to.
She walked over to the sink and splashed her face a few times to stop the flaming hurt.
Hagrid was her friend. He deserved protection in his absence. Draco's statement might've just gotten him sacked.
She turned the water colder. It numbed her hands as she pushed them under.
Elizabeth Bennett why couldn't your problems be more like mine, Hermione whined.
It was a few minutes before there was the gentle click of the latch. She looked into the mirror where a sneaking figure appeared, dressed head to toe in black, with light blonde hair. He crept up behind her, held her waist and planted a deep kiss on her neck.
"I missed you," he said. He breathed in her scent deeply. "Mmm."
"I can't believe you said that about Hagrid," Hermione snapped softly.
Despite the disuse of the bathroom, it was still imperative they keep their voice down. Plenty of students walked the halls. None of which they wanted to discover the forbidden secret.
Draco groaned at the very tone in Hermione's voice. "So this is how it's going to be? Fighting about what I have to do, something we both agreed to."
Hermione shrank in his arms. Hagrid was her friend, but so was Draco. He had things he had to do, too. His pretense was as much as hers.
"You're right. I'm sorry," she said softly. She bit back a smile as he pulled her closer. "I don't want to fight. Not with you, anyhow. It'd never end, how stubborn you are. You'll probably tell our grandchildren how I smacked you in our third year."
Draco chuckled. "Mmm, every chance I get. Anything to take you down a peg or two."
The soft gurgling of the pipes alluded to the presence of Myrtle, the ghost that haunted the bathroom with a particular vengeance. Draco and Myrtle were friendly, as was Hermione, but they weren't certain she would keep herself quiet. They moved toward the darker shadows.
Draco cradled her in his arms. He wanted to worry about Myrtle, but it wasn't the forefront of his mind. Slowly he slipped his hands under the hem of Hermione's shirt. Her soft skin glided below as it climbed higher and higher. She gasped as he got close but didn't stop him.
"How about you and me run a little bath?" One of his eyebrows lifted.
She felt herself smile in the light of his growing (clearly, it was sticking into her stomach) admiration. Mouth open to answer, a small shuffle of feet answered instead.
Draco Malfoy jolted. Someone was there, listening to them.
He pulled out his wand, quietly put his hand over Hermione's mouth, and glanced to the darkness. The bathroom laid still. The gurgling of drain pipes sloshed softly. A far-off cry of an owl echoed into the distance. There was the hallway, just outside the door, that sounded with the shoes of one person as they ran past.
Draco held his wand out front, ready to strike. The black of the bathroom only split by colored rays of moonlight gave little away. He swung out his arm, holding Hermione directly behind him. She trembled as she leaned into his back.
The corner of his eye spotted a shift in the shadows and he instantly turned, wand out to the ready where another wand floated. Draco kept calm as he watched more than a hand emerge from shadow.
Hermione gasped when she saw who it was.
"Well, well, out for a midnight stroll?" Draco asked with very little play in his tone. He didn't like being spied on. He was sure this one was sent by Pansy to follow his movements like an owl. "Not like you to break the rules."
Blaise Zabini remained still. His wand was still drawn, ready to fire, but there was no emotion across his face. Just a blank slate.
"I'd like to say I didn't see this coming." He scoffed. "A Death Eaters only son and a Mudblood. Who would have guessed Slytherin's boy was a blood traitor?"
"Blood traitor." Draco gritted his teeth. It was a deep insult to all pure bloods. The Malfoy family especially despised blood traitors. They were near as low as Muggle borns. "Not many who'd dare utter those words to me, Blaise, would walk away. What makes you think that you can?"
"You're the one with all to lose."
Hermione suddenly found her voice again. "You are in a girl's lavatory. At night. Alone."
"Filthy Mudbloods don't have the right to speak to me," he snapped.
Draco pushed his wand further. The hard ice in his eye kept him focused on Blaise in the same fashion as Blaise stared back at him.
"She can speak to you if she wants to," Draco said. "Don't ever talk to her like that in front of me."
"Don't waste your time on threats, Draco. We all know you aren't good for them."
There was a subtle shift in Draco as he changed from the smooth-talking fool she always knew him to be, to a cold calculated person. The risks of dueling on school grounds were high. There was always detention, removal from a House Quidditch team, and the worst of all: expulsion. Draco rode a fine line with duels since it was how he loved to settle scores. He never attacked those from his own house though. Slytherins never bickered amongst themselves. Blaise being the quietest of all of them.
But Blaise made the insult to his family, to his cowardice. Hermione knew that was a dangerous line to overstep. More so for Draco. Expulsion would make him parents furious.
Hermione touched his back gently.
"Draco, please." She kept her tone soft and calm. Nothing to spark the pair into a full-fledged fight. "Let's just take a moment. Talk. I'm sure we can work this out."
The wands remained fixed at one another.
"We don't need to fight like this," Hermione said. She stepped out from behind his protection, no matter how many times he asked her not to.
"Hermione, get behind me and grab your wand. Do it now. Hermione."
She stayed planted between the pair, their wands next to her face. She shuddered. Either one of them could explode and send her to the hospital wing. Still, she raised her fingers up to their wands.
"What's your Mudblood doing?" Blaise asked.
Draco sneered. "I don't know, not listening to me apparently. Hermione, move."
"No. I can't let you do this." She crossed her arms across her chest. "If you want to duel, I'll have to stand right here. Blaise might not care if I get hurt and he's expelled, but I know you'll feel like a foul git for it. So why don't both of you put the wands away?"
Blaise showed signs of relief. "She's right, you know. We curse her and we're detention meat, for sure, if not worse."
"Not if I Obliviate you first!"
Draco raised his wand quickly. Blaise was startled. He dropped his wand, eyes widened in disbelief. A normal student duel didn't use memory charms. So much could go wrong then. He could end up like Lockhart in St. Mungos forever.
The look in Draco's eye was not relenting. He kept his face locked in sneer, ready to release all his anger to his fellow House mate for an insult or two, when Harry and Ron insulted him daily with very little to be given back to them except a few in return.
There was no turning back. He'd committed to reaction. Hermione flung herself in front of Blaise, arms spread wide, choking back ragged breaths.
She was scared. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't shoot anyway. One miss, and she'd not remember a thing, possibly ever. What a cruelty beyond words.
"What're you doing?" Blaise asked. "Are you mental?"
Hermione felt she might be.
"Mione, please, step aside." Draco begged her.
She shook her head. "No."
"He doesn't even like you. What do you care if I hurt him?"
"Draco, he doesn't even have a wand. It's wrong. He didn't curse you, did he? No. We scared him just as much as he scared us. So, let's just put the wand down and talk about this."
Blaise nodded. "Yeah, Malfoy. Put it down."
"Oh shut up, Blaise."
Finally after an eternity of silence, Draco lowered his wand. Hermione instantly bent over and took a few gulps of breath. She was sure he'd do it.
Draco pulled her up again, hugging her close. They shared a small moment of relief, for both of them, as Blaise retrieved his wand from the tile floor. He was on his hands and knees grabbing into the darkness. The shadow of on the floor made it impossible. Hermione dropped down to help.
On the other hand, Draco retreated to the sink ready to jump off the Astronomy Tower for actually thinking he'd curse Blaise with Hermione in the way. He loosened the knot at his neck until he stopped choking on air. That was close. So close.
The grimy white of the porcelain sink was cool to the touch as he bent over. Bits of green calcified gunk clung near the drain and faucet. He picked at it incessantly until every piece was scraped clean. There was the gentle slapping of hands on the floor until finally the roll of a piece of wood echoed throughout the room.
Hermione handed the wand over. Blaise tucked it into his pants quickly. There was no need to have another pointed in his face for no reason.
"What are you doing in here anyway?" She asked him. "No one comes in here."
Draco rolled his eyes. "The same reason why we came here, darling. Blaise was meeting someone."
The boys' eyes met in a steady glare until Blaise finally broke away.
"That's ridiculous," he said. "I came here because I heard some noise. Never thought I'd find the two of you in here, but hey. Pussy is pussy, right Drake?"
The dark of Blaise's eye took time to inspect Hermione closely. "No one is going to believe it."
Draco went rigid. "No, they're not because you're not going to tell anyone."
"Oh yeah? Why's that?"
"Because I'm going to sit here and wait to see just who comes through that door looking for you." Draco pulled Hermione to his side. "My guess is that it's a union that's not going to go over very well since you're meeting after hours in a girl's bathroom. Am I close, Blaise?"
Blaise stayed quiet.
"Is it Pansy?" Draco asked.
A bitter sting of jealousy crept to Hermione's heart as she noticed that she was always the first person out of his mouth: Pansy Parkinson. He couldn't help himself. The bitterness took over her as she watched him through narrow eyes with the absolute anger she'd expelled a week prior, after her run in with the Slytherin prefect on the train.
Blaise snorted aloud. "Pansy? For Merlin's sake, no. That girl could suffocate air with all her talking. I don't know how anyone could stand her, let alone you." Then he paused. A series of clicks snapped together in his brain. The truth a bit too clear. "Well, now, that makes sense. You date her to cover for dating Granger. Was it the same for the Beauxbaton as well?"
Hermione's mood did not lighten. She met Draco's gaze with a questionable look.
"Brilliant, Blaise. You can't get laid tonight so you want me to stop getting laid forever." Draco grumbled. "Just tell me who it is, so I can move along with my night."
"Oh yes, because you're the only one with time that's valuable," Hermione snipped.
Blaise and Draco looked at her with surprise.
"Excellent. Good work, Blaise."
"Happy to help."
Outside the door in the hallway, a familiar tapping of shoe against stone announced the arrival of someone, most likely a teacher roaming the halls for students out of bed. Blaise froze, as did Draco. If they were caught, they were absolute toast.
Hermione raised her wand and softly said, "Alohomora!"
The bathroom door locked close. Neither of the boys thought to move, let alone lock to the door. They looked dumbfounded. She kept still as the footsteps became louder and louder. It was like a taunt. Each step closer to a world of some not so good things to happen.
Harry and Ron finding out about Draco, for one. That was by far the worst. Ginny was a close second, since she hated him with just as much passion as the next one but was far more willing to confront him rather than walk away. The very crawling look of disappointment across McGonagall's face hitched Hermione's breath. Oh, it was not going to be good.
Draco and Blaise weren't much better off. Their Head of House was Snape. No matter how popular of a student Draco Malfoy was with Professor Snape, there was no way they wouldn't be in trouble. Then there was the rest of Slytherin. They'd be the butt of every joke forever if known to be blood traitors. Muggle sympathizers. It could mean harm to Draco, if word drifted back to his father. Pansy's big mouth would see to it. Her jealousy of Hermione, clear.
Each of the students saw their lives come to an end as the steps stopped at the door. There was a subtle jiggle of the latch. Hermione ducked behind the stalls, wand drawn. Perhaps a duel was on the menu after all.
Suddenly there came a soft whisper.
"Blaise?" The voice called out.
It was answered back with silence. None of them dared make a sound. Blaise kept his mouth shut even as the advantage was in hand. He glanced over and met Draco's eye and saw the status quo change back to Draco's.
"Blaise, it's Roger. I think Snape followed me down. I can't stay."
Hermione cupped her mouth in surprise. Blaise was meeting a man?
She felt the smile come to Draco's face in the darkness. It was practically a symbol in the sky, the bewildering circumstance that now captured them all, together.
Roger left. Not a few moments later came the obvious march of Snape as he patrolled the halls. He left the bathroom alone. He headed back down the other hall away from Moaning Myrtle's lair.
"Whoa." Draco spoke after a full minute of utter silence. "Did not see that coming."
"Roger Davies?" Hermione was in complete shock. "Roger Davies is who you were coming to meet?"
Blaise put his hands up. "Alright, before you guys say anything -."
"That is a good choice," Hermione said.
Both the guys turned in surprise, once more.
Draco's mouth fell open. "Pardon?"
"Nice work, Blaise. Roger is such a great catch. I mean, he's got it all hasn't he? Looks, brains, performance."
"Performance?" Draco repeated loudly.
Blaise rolled his eyes. "On the pitch, Draco. He's Captain of Ravenclaw, and yes, his performance is quite exquisite."
Horrified, Draco took a step back. He didn't want to know that. Not at all. He has to see Blaise everyday and realize that Roger Davies performs very well. What did that even mean? Was it stamina? Hell, Draco had stamina. Hermione was greatly pleased with his performances, yet her absolute thrall of Roger Davies made him question what exactly it meant.
Hermione beamed a smile. "You're very lucky."
"And don't I know it?" Blaise grinned like an idiot.
"Okay, okay. Let's break this up before you start swapping panties and tell me what performance means. I know it isn't how great he is in bed," Draco said. "I've never once heard a girl bragging about his lay."
"I think we've established that for Roger, it wouldn't be girls doing the talking," Blaise pointed out. He, himself, was not strictly a guy's man. He liked them all. With Roger, he kept a more focused mindset.
Draco became flustered. "Well I've never heard any of the guys either."
It was so cute how Draco felt left out. Hermione watched him as he subtly paced with the news of a mate of his in a homosexual relationship. No, it was more than that. Draco now felt compelled to compete with another male so fluid, as he heard it regaled with such admiration. He was jealous.
"Oh honestly, Draco." She tried to comfort him, but he felt the teasing in her voice. He pushed her away softly. "You have a fair performance, too."
"Fair? Fair? When Roger Davies has a brilliant performance and I'm just fair? Someone tell me what performance means!"
Blaise chuckled. "We best be heading back, don't you think? I wouldn't put it past Snape to start checking beds."
The halls of Hogwarts had fallen silent in the course of the night. Snape was likely on the sparse rounds of the school. It took about twenty minutes to round each level of the castle, not counting if he followed a stray noise or looked in on the library. There was more than one person on duty, but with so many floors of the school, there was a chance neither group would get caught. Still it was best not to linger in the same spot. Each place had to be checked at least once. The abandoned Prefect's Lavatory was the perfect place for an out-of-bed meetup. Hermione guessed the professors were privy to the information, even if it was a gross negligence to walk into the loo unannounced.
"He's right. It's only a matter of time." Hermione sighed.
Draco was seriously irate. "Tell me what bloody performance means or else I'm gonna go ask Roger myself."
"Get off it, Draco. We have to go," Blaise groaned. "Leave your little lovefest for later. Merlin knows you've found plenty of time to get it done over the year. Or probably more accurate, years."
"Give me your word that you'll take this to your grave."
"Didn't think you were so dark there, Mudblood." Blaise toyed his eyebrow. "Fine. I'll take it to the grave if I get the same promise from both of you, blood traitors."
Hermione was unconvinced. Blaise was pure-blood and Slytherin. He clearly had no problem with spewing hate. She narrowed her eyes. "You're not going to report it to You-Know-Who when you get the first chance?"
Maybe she should have let Draco Obliviate Blaise.
"You're hooking up with a loyal Death Eaters son, and you think I'm going to rat you out?" Blaise chuckled at the irony. "I'm no Death Eater, Mudblood."
Draco tensed, ready to raise his wand yet again but Hermione beat him to it. "Hermione. The name is Hermione, or I'll be throwing out suspicion of your aspects to every person who will listen. Pansy will have a heyday with that."
Draco grinned as he listened to Blaise be put into place by his fiery little Gryffindor. She kept on at Blaise until the man relented to her strength. She got him nearly to make an Unbreakable Vow just to protect themselves.
His fellow Slytherin looked to him for help, shaking his head at Hermione. Bemused, Draco finally felt fit to call her off.
"He won't rat on us, will you, Blaise? He cares too much for his reputation to risk it," Draco replied smugly. "And I think he's warming up to you, darling."
"Piss on you, Draco."