A/N; Ok, it has officially been almost forever since I've updated, and I hope I didn't make anyone angry! I've got some very interesting stuff for you this chapter; it's up to you to tell me how you're liking it. This one goes out to ProwlingKitKat and Care Bear Erin. You guys have been great:D
PS: I've officially (finally) added the reviewed and revised version of the prologue here on fanfiction. it's not too much different than the first one, but I've fixed a few grammar and spelling problems. If you want to read it, feel free, if not; not a big deal. Enjoy the chapter, and HIT THE BUTTON! Lol.
Chapter Ten
What did he mean? She glanced at the clock. Five minutes until the end of COMC, and then it would be time for lunch. He'd thought about me before? But that's… that's impossible. He'd never think about me, a 'Mudblood' like that… But he said not to presume… Three minutes. Leaving the safety of her study corner in the library, Hermione rushed down the corridor to the entrance hall. She had to talk to Ron and Harry. One minute. 'Get to know me, Granger'. How does he possibly expect me to do that? Not that I want to or anything…but Merlin, could he be any bigger with the cryptic? And the way he looked at me… Sometimes I wish-
"'Mione!" Harry rushed over to her, eyeing her peculiarly. Ron was right behind him, but the redhead didn't stop with a look. Instead, he wrapped his arms tightly around his friend, crushing her against him. As abruptly as he started, he stopped and pulled away. His bright blue eyes dropped to the floor, and his freckled face turned a brilliant shade of scarlet. Harry grinned. "He means to say we were worried," he translated for the blushing Ron, and Hermione grinned right back.
"You never miss class, 'Mione." Ron's sheepish voice drifted up from his down-turned face. She smiled even wider.
"I'm fine, thank you for your concern." I really should tell them… they're my best friends; if anyone deserves to know, it's them. Maybe not about Malfoy… not yet. But about the other… "But there is something I think we need to discuss."
Instantly, Ron's head shot up, and he pinned her with a sharp glare. "Did Malfoy do something to you?" he growled, glancing around. At the mention of his blond adversary, Harry tensed as well. "Just point us in the right direction, Hermione." Ron continued. "We'll kill the greasy git."
Quickly, Hermione shook her head. The last thing she needed was for Draco to get mauled by her two well-meaning, over-protective friends, especially on her order. "No, Dra- er, Malfoy didn't do a thing. Bt we really need to talk." The sobriety in her voice went unnoticed by the redhead.
"Can't it wait 'til after lunch?" Ron was already walking down the corridor to the Great Hall, where lunch was waiting. He'd rather stuff his face than listen to what I have to say? My news is extremely important (but he couldn't possibly know that) but even so, he'd rather fill that bottomless pit of a stomach then help me with a problem! Knowing that she was making a big deal out of virtually nothing, she couldn't help the tears that welled in the corners of her eyes; Harry must have seen them, because he called out.
"Ron?" Ron didn't hear him, and just kept walking. "Ron!" Harry tried a little louder, anxiety growing as the volume of tears in his best friend's eyes increased.
"Harry, It's ok," Hermione whispered, blinking to clear her blurry vision. "We'll just… talk later."
"Are you sure?"
She nodded and he smiled, relieved.
"Race you to the Great Hall!" he cried, then disappeared in a flurry of maroon and black. Hermione just shook her head and followed slowly behind.
O.O
Draco watched from a shadowy doorway as the witch he'd already come to think of as his tried to hide her tears. His already formidable respect for the bookish brunette grew as he watched her reign in her emotions (atta girl, Hermione) and he had to concentrate very hard on his breathing to keep himself from pummeling the Weasel into an unrecognizable pulp for bringing her pain. Maybe later, he told himself, then grinned.
When she left, trailing after the Boy-Who-Whined, he followed as well, taking care not to be noticed. She sat quietly at her place between the two boys, and piled a modest amount of food onto her golden platter.
Keeping a protective (possessive) eye on Hermione, Draco crossed to the Slytherin table and sat beside as smirking Blaise. "What's your problem?" he grumbled, scooping mashed potatoes onto his plate.
Blaise laughed loudly, causing a few heads to turn in his direction, but he paid them no mind. Instead, he passed a pitcher of pumpkin juice to his blond, brooding friend, and snickered. "Could you be any more obvious?"
Draco's hand stilled in the middle of pouring himself a glass. Uh-oh. Busted. "What do you mean?"
"Look at yourself. Anyone could see she's got you tied up." Blaise gestured in the Gryffindors' general direction with his fork before spearing a piece of ham with the same utensil. He lifted the bite to his lips, waiting for his friend's reply.
"I don't know what you're-'
"You slept with her."
"Bugger." Draco sighed, defeated, and closed his eyes. He should have known this would happen. Blaise always knew. It didn't matter how careful he was; if there was something going on in Draco's life, Blaise knew about it. Sometimes even before Draco himself. "What does it matter to you?"
"It really doesn't; you know that," Blaise said, passing the blond a platter of deli meats. "In fact, I'm happy for you! I've been wondering how long it would take you before you got with her." The darker-haired-yet-equally-snarky Slytherin chuckled, and pointed out gleefully, "You've been obsessing over her for years!"
"What! I have not!" The pale wizard bristled at his best friend's mocking gaze, then sighed dejectedly, turned to his plate, and began spooning up some mashed potatoes.
"You have too. Did you forget, Draco, that I've known you since we were children? Just because we cannot actually read each other's minds doesn't mean I don't know what goes on inside that twisted head of yours." Blaise continued conversationally, still gesturing grandly (and unnecessarily, Draco noted grumpily) with his fork. "There is just one thing I don't understand." Draco's companion mused, keeping careful eyes on Draco's expression as he spoke. "Why this year? What has changed?" He emphasized his question with an exaggeratedly punctuated bite of juicy ham, still watching for any insight to the blond's thoughts. As he expected, none was forthcoming.
"What leads you to believe anything has changed?' Draco tried desperately for nonchalance. To anyone that wasn't Blaise, he seemed uninterested and detached, but his long-time friend saw through his façade as though it were glass.
"Only a week ago, you wouldn't say her name in public, for fear your mouth would be 'contaminated'," Zabini scoffed. "Then, last night, you took her to your bed. Something has changed; don't try to deny it."
The youngest Malfoy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, weighing the other Slytherin's words against his own judgment. Taking one last bite of the meat on his plate, the blond elegantly rose from he table. "Meet me in the common room after dinner tonight." He spoke calmly, but the storm raging in his eyes warred with his cool demeanor and exposed the flutter of excitement and trepidation in his gut. "We have much to discuss."
Blaise's eyes followed Draco as he crossed the room. When he approached the Gryffindor table rather than the doors, the Italian laughed, and wondered if his wholly Slytherin friend knew just how badly he was caught.
O.O
"Oi, Harry!" Katie Bell called from her seat down he table, interrupting Hermione's monologue about her newest assignment in Ancient Runes. Harry whispered his apologies to her, and she smiled sweetly, allowing him to turn to his teammate. "I got a letter from Wood!" The athletic girl called out, smiling widely. Hermione couldn't help but wonder what all the fuss was about, until the other girl shouted, "He's been accepted to play for the Chudley Cannons!"
"No way!" Ron interjected, causing the bookish brunette to sigh. The redhead had abandoned his own conversation to interrogate Katie, leaving Seamus Finnigan (who had been telling Ron about his new chess set) looking disgruntled. Oh, the joys of Quidditch, Hermione thought to herself. Thankfully, Ginny joined them at that moment, giving the Gryffindor girl some much-needed company.
"Quidditch again?" The young redhead asked, giggling when Hermione nodded her chestnut head wildly in exasperation.
"I know you like it, too, but at least it's not an obsession," the brunette sighed, gazing longingly at her boys. Both of their faces were lit with excitement as they took part in what she could only call 'Boy Gossip'. It was the 'he said she said' of the broomstick world; which brooms the Cannons were riding this year, what position Wood was going to play, and she found it all absolutely boring. Ginny nodded sympathetically. Oh well. At least she had someone to talk to.
"Ginny?" She said on a whim. The younger witch looked at her. "Do you think Draco Malfoy is… attractive?" Her voice had lowered to barely a whisper but the red-head heard her without a problem.
Ginny choked for a moment, before gaping at her friend incredulously. "Did you… did our just ask me if I thought Malfoy was hot"
"Well, yes," was all Hermione was able to say before her companion burst into laughter. The group of Gryffindors surrounding them looked at the chortling girl with shock and confusion before returning to their respective conversations. The brunette waited patiently for the youngest Weasley to regain her composure before asking again, "Well, do you?"
"Oh, Hermione," Ginny managed through a few rogue giggles, "Of course I do! I mean, Merlin, where were you that day in the dorms when we had that discussion?"
"I was …reading," Hermione confessed, but her eyebrows furrowed. "I thought you hated him!"
"'Mione, 'Mione, 'Mione," Ginny tsked, " You don't have to like a person to think he's a hottie. Malfoy is a first-class Grade A super-git, but he's still perfectly shaggable."
"Ginny!" The brunette gasped out loud, shocked and tickled at her friends choice of words. She paused to gain a breath, and realized that their table was completely quiet. In fact, the entirety of the Great Hall was silent, the only ones still talking being herself and Ginny. She tried to quiet her friend as she searched for the cause of the anomaly, but Ginny barged straight ahead.
"What? It's true! Malfoy would probably be a great shag!" With a sudden certainty, Ginny's face turned tomato red, and she whispered, "The entire hall just heard what I said, didn't they?"
Hermione could only nod meekly and watch helplessly as her third best friend fled. She, however, stayed firmly rooted to the spot, facing the teachers' curious glances as she searched for the reason of the sudden quiet. She turned around and came face to face with the cause. He was smirking, but only to hide the furious blush on his cheeks. That blush was just intensified by the paleness of his skin.
"Malfoy."
"Gris- er- Granger." He locked eyes with her for a moment, his blush receding, before doing what she never thought he'd be able to do with a straight face. He acknowledged her friends with a words and a nod in each of their directions. "Potter." Nod. "Weasley." Another nod. Merlin, time seemed to be moving in slow motion! Vaguely, Hermione realized that he had called Ron by his true family name, rather than some foul mockery of the same. Before she could question his good spirits, a single word spoken in unison by her two best friends rocked her to her foundation.
"Malfoy." It was spoken, surprisingly, without malice. Instead, it was a dry, emotionless acknowledgement, but it was more than the brunette had hoped for.
"What do you-" she started before the dam on the angry words burst.
"What in the bloody hell do you want, Malfoy?" She cast a quick glance at the speaker. Oh blimey, Ron. Why do you have to be such a git? Malfoy, oddly enough, hasn't even insulted you, and you're already on the offensive.
"As little of your concern as it may be," Malfoy drawled, and Hermione's attention was inevitably drawn back to him, "I've come to ask Granger here a question." He turned his own attention to her once more. "Although I suppose I should track down little Weasel. I'm sure hard facts would be much more convincing than bathroom gossip." His drawl was even more pronounced with this statement, and the smirk had retaken his face. Even though she couldn't see them, Hermione could feel Harry reach out to grab Ron's robes, holding him back from trying to damage Malfoy in front of the teachers. "Later," she though she heard the raven-haired wizard whisper, but she couldn't be sure. "But, I'll just stick it to Granger, for now." The Slytherin continued, letting his eyes carry the innuendo. It did not go unnoticed.
"What is it you needed to ask me, Malfoy?" She tried to sound calm, but wasn't sure if her dry throat allowed her to pull it off. No one noticed anything, obviously, because Malfoy only nodded.
"Right to the point, I see. No foreplay. How like you." She winced at his harsh tone, and could practically taste her boys' confusion, but ignored them for now. "I was wondering when you'd like to meet in the library," Malfoy finally stated. His voice was crisp and cold, but the ice in his eyes was slowly cracking.
The library? What about the library? Oh gods, look at his eyes. There should be a law against expressions like that in public.
"About the Arithmancy work you missed..?" He prompted when he was met with a puzzled look.
Of course! Arithmancy… the only class we have alone together… The possibilities unfolded like a map in front of her. If she was reading him correctly, this was more than just a offer to study. If she chose to follow him to the library, she had a feeling she would be choosing something just a little more than that. Could she handle more? You slept with him on a whim; you used him to take your mind off your other, more important problems. You don't know if he really wants you, or if you were just a coincidence. But his own voice echoed through her memories. "Don't ever presume to know what I think, what I feel," he had said, he had asked her to get to know him, and here he was offering her a way to do so without her friends ever knowing the difference. He was offering her something… more.
But can you really handle more? That little voice was really starting to get annoying. Do you really want, do you really think you could handle, something more than a one-night fling?
Yes, she realized with a start. Yes, she did. She wanted a relationship; a friendship, something more… something substantial. Draco Malfoy was intelligent, witty, (not completely obsessed with Quidditch) and was an excellent lover. What else could she ask for? Someone who enjoys your company. Someone who likes your friends. Someone who hasn't made your life a living hell since your first day. Petulant Little Voice was back again… and making some very good points.
"This is absurd," she thought, not realizing she was speaking out loud. The entire situation was disturbing. Could she really be pondering a relationship with Draco Malfoy? Not only would it be impossible because of her friends, her cause, but it would be hell on her personally. She had just been ripped from her normal life and thrown haphazardly into a family she hadn't even known existed until the day before… that was confusing enough. Hermione knew that she couldn't even think about a relationship, friendly or otherwise, with the youngest Malfoy; it would only serve to muddy up already-murky waters.
"Tell him to bugger off, Hermione." Ron was stage-whispering to her. Inwardly, the brunette sighed. Goodbye, Draco. You've really been a help.
"I think," she started, mortified hen her voice cracked. She swallowed, took a deep breath, and started again, looking the Slytherin square in the eyes, trying to convey all of her thoughts, all of her gratitude, with a single glance. "I think I'll just get the notes from Hannah, thank you."
If her unexpected answer affected him in slightest, he didn't let it show. He merely nodded and walked away; at least he attempted to, before Ron spoke again.
"Yeah. Piss off, Ferret Face."
Slowly, ever so slowly, Malfoy turned aback around to face them. His expression was firm and his eyes distant, and Hermione found herself wishing she could crawl under the carpet and disappear. She didn't want to be anywhere near Ground Zero when this ticking time bomb exploded.
The blond wizard opened his mouth as if to speak. His eyes drifted over her for the hundredth time, searching her face, and he seemed to rethink his actions. He did speak (of course, because Draco Malfoy would rather die than remain silent) but his words were more shocking than if he hadn't spoken at all. "I have nothing more to say to you," he muttered. With turn and flourish, he was gone, his robes billowing impressively behind him.
The teachers looked on with interest as gradually, the volume in the Hall returned to normal, and soon, the shocking episode that would never be known as The Day the Trio Finally Blew Up Malfoy was forgotten.