"Oi! That hurts!" the man in the painting yelled. "Calm your bloody temper, you git!"
"Are you all right?" Malfoy asked, ignoring the complaints of the portrait. He scooped Hermione up in his arms and laid her down gently on the loveseat.
"I'm fine," she replied, wincing a little as she shifted into a comfortable sitting position.
"Are you sure?" Malfoy pressed, putting an arm around her. "Because he's a strong bloke, that Weasel."
"I'm okay," Hermione repeated. "He just got my face, that's all."
"I'm going to tell Potter and Ginny," Malfoy said. "I'm going to tell them, and they're going to take out adequate punishment on him."
"The only thing they can do is to get him kicked out of Quidditch," Hermione pointed out. "I think we should tell McGonagall about him."
"Let's hold off on that for a while," Malfoy said. "And torment the boy a little." The familiar smirk appeared on his face again. Hermione felt her heart skip a beat and her stomach flutter. How strange.
"Let's go get some dinner," she said, standing up.
"Gin, Harry!" Hermione called, waving to her friends brightly. Malfoy and Zabini had become a regular appearance at the Gryffindor table, so no one even raised an eyebrow at the fact that they sat there now.
Ginny and Blaise grinned at each other and pulled out their wands. They pointed them at Hermione's and Malfoy's goblets of pumpkin juice.
"Aquamoris modicum Hermione et Draco," they whispered at the same moment. The goblets glowed dimly for a split second and then went back to normal.
"Evening, Herms," Harry said, smothering a grin. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm all right," Hermione replied, sitting down. "Just a little jarred is all." She took a small sip of her pumpkin juice.
"Why is that?" Neville inquired.
"Ronald," Hermione answered. "He entered the Heads' commons a while ago and we got into a big row."
"Row?" Dean asked. "Did he get violent?"
"A bit," Hermione said, wincing at the question. Harry's eyes narrowed.
"I can't believe I was best mates with that tosser," he spat, taking a large, savage bite of his shepherd's pie. "What are we going to do about this, Gin?"
"Well," Ginny said, anger overtaking her normally cheerful demeanor, "I could write Mum and tell her about everything that's happened. I haven't done that yet, and I think her rows will set him straighter than any of ours."
"I think you're right," Malfoy said with a nod. He also sipped his pumpkin juice. "I still remember the howler and how it scared him right out of his pants." Everyone else laughed. It was such an accurate description.
Suddenly, Hermione felt something strange in her stomach. It was a warmth, spreading all through her abdomen, travelling up her spine and into her head. She found herself unable to tear her eyes away from Malfoy, and realized that he was also very openly staring at her, with his trademark smirk now fully apparent on his handsome face.
At the same time, Malfoy found himself staring at Hermione's face as if he was iron and she was a magnet. He felt a swelling sensation in his chest – not painful, but comfortable, warm, and welcome. He noted that her doe eyes were gazing into his silver ones, and his old smirk came back for an encore appearance.
"Hermione, dear," someone said in an infuriating tone, making Hermione tear her gaze unwillingly away from Malfoy. She regretted in instantly, because the speaker was Lavender.
"Yes, Lavender, what is it?" Hermione asked in a mock-polite tone.
"Could you please move your enormous arse up the bench so that the rest of us have some room?" Lavender requested sweetly, batting her eyelashes. Hermione's face went red, but she kept calm.
"Of course, Lavender," she responded in just as honeyed a tone. "It's just that I'm not sure that would be enough to fit you, your ego, your big mouth, and then everyone else." All of her friends chuckled appreciatively.
"Augh!" Lavender exclaimed, stomping off dramatically.
"Elle est vraiment une reine de drama, non?" Malfoy asked Hermione, who giggled and nodded in response. Their gazes began to linger on one another once more. Hermione almost forgot that she was there to eat until Ginny nudged her and shoved a spoonful of cherry crumble into her mouth.
"Ouch!" Hermione cried, exhaling the steam. "Gin! That burnt my tongue!"
"Well, pay attention to your food, then!" Ginny chastized teasingly. "Instead of to the handsome young man across the table." Hermione blushed deeply, not daring to raise her eyes to Malfoy again.
He, on the other hand, was perfectly capable of simultaneously eating and staring at her to his heart's content without fumbling, burning his tongue, or looking like an otherwise complete ditz.
"Is dessert all that's left?" Hermione asked, her face falling. Ginny nodded, spooning some crumble into her mouth.
"Well, I quite fancy dessert, don't you?" Malfoy asked in a low, rich tone. Hermione looked up to see him slowly licking some of the syrupy cherry filling off the tip of his spoon. She felt something jolt in her stomach, causing her to press her legs closer against each other.
"So, Herms," Harry said, not quite able to keep the overt glee out of his tone, "how's the schoolwork going?"
"Perfect," Hermione answered, relieved to have a different subject to focus on. "I had a test returned the other day and I received an O on it. I was so happy."
"You're probably very used to that feeling, aren't you?" Harry laughed. Hermione nudged him playfully.
"It doesn't get any less," she declared. "I can't help it, I'm an overachiever."
"Tell us something we don't know," Neville teased, joining in the conversation. "I'm all better at Potions now, and it's only thanks to your help." Hermione giggled and blushed a little.
Something stirred in Malfoy's stomach upon seeing her react like this to Neville's compliment. He told it mentally to shut up before he did something bad.
"Wotcher, Harry," an unpleasantly familiar voice came from somewhere above Harry's shoulder. He turned to see Ron Weasley, standing there and grinning as though nothing had happened at all.