Thank you so much for your reviews! I hope you'll like this chapter as well. A bit more fluff, leading up for some trouble. This story takes place during fifth year. Umbridge rules the school and her band of little Slytherins will heave chaos around the school (but this time without Draco Malfoy, because quite obviously he's fallen a bit out of favour).
Anyway enjoy chapter ten!
Chapter Ten, Evidence
After the Hogsmeade weekend, they would occasionally meet for lunch and tea in the room of requirement. She didn't tell him what it was used for, but she knew he figured it out long ago. He kept silent about it and she was grateful.
No one ever sees them, of course. She hadn't expected it, but her House was just as, if not more, prejudiced as his. Although she reckons Harry would support her, Ron — whom she was ignoring half of the time — had shown her there were social rules in Gryffindor one had to follow. And, as he had pointed out already, she was not following them.
It made Hermione angry. She had curled herself into one of the cushioned red sofa's reading a book while glancing outside now and then.
Tapping her fingers against the cover of her book, she breathed in slowly. It was wrong and backwards; she had every right to talk to whomever she pleased. Especially when he offered her such intellectual conversations and she liked it. They weren't quite friends, but they weren't enemies either. He still insulted her friends when they passed, but he didn't bother insulting her, and therefore she laid off of him.
"This is absolutely a waste of time," Hermione muttered, before snapping her Defence book shut. Putting her book away, she tiredly glanced through the window.
The day had dawned bright and clear, crystalline blue skies without a cloud in sight; and therefore the day had been cold. It was early afternoon and after the morning lessons, she had retreated to the common room, to enjoy the realm of books. Hermione absentmindedly rubbed her thigh with her fingers as she shifted in her seat, leaning her chin on her knees.
The portrait hole opened. Hermione glanced towards the entrance only to see a very flushed very hysterical Ginny Weasley.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked carefully. Ginny shook her head and beckoned to the circular stairs leading towards the girl dormitories. The fourth-year bedroom was empty. Ginny fell down on her bed with a small moan.
"What's going on Ginny?" Hermione asked, closing the door with a small thud.
Ginny moaned again and hid her eyes behind her arm. Hermione frowned, making her way over to the redhead's bed. She waited for a moment, perching up the edge of the bed, before placing a comforting hand on Ginny's arm.
"Are you all right?"
Ginny shook her head. "No," she whispered. "No, I'm not."
"Really, Ginny, I cannot help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."
"I was upset," she answered.
Hermione inched closer. "What about?"
"Not important!" Ginny answered, before sitting up and hugging her pillow to her chest. "I slept with Zabini."
"Yeah," Hermione answered. "I know that. Everyone knows that."
Ginny glowered at the other witch, before shaking her head. She straightened her back and looked at Hermione with narrowed eyes. "That's not what I mean."
"Oh, my God!" Hermione suddenly whispered, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open.
She nodded and let out a humourless laugh. "I slept with him, again," she clarified. "I didn't use any precaution. Again!"
Hermione chuckled, pushing a lock of hair away from her face. "That's what you're worried about?"
"Wouldn't you be?" Ginny asked shrilly.
"According to Hogwarts a History, there are special enchantments over this school. Underaged witches can't fall pregnant." Hermione explained.
"They can't?" Ginny asked.
"Of course not, else we all would have gotten a potion last time, wouldn't we?" Hermione asked tiredly. "Why can no one just read Hogwarts a History already?"
Ginny laughed, before throwing herself face-first into her pillow. "Thank God!" she wailed and Hermione shook her head. Ginny remained still, face down, on her bed.
Hermione crossed her legs at the ankles and stared at the younger redhead. Just below her ear, tinged almost blue, she noticed a love bite. "Gin?"
"Hm,"
"You've got something on your neck."
"Do I?"
Hermione clucked her tongue, before prodding at the side of Ginny's neck. "Right about here," she started. "A love-bite."
Ginny let out something which sounded a lot like a groan and muttered something that sounded an awful lot like; 'I hate my life,' before tracing the spot with her fingers.
Hermione laughed softly as she studied the flustered girl and pulled her wand out. "I can glamour it if you want to?"
"Yes," she muttered, not bothering to get up. Hermione noticed her cheeks blushing a delicate shade of pink.
Hermione rolled her eyes at the other girl's antics, before shifting closer and whispered the incantation. Ginny remained stiff, face down, on her bed. Hermione blew a lock of hair out of her face and fiddled with a loose button on her robe.
"Whatever happened during Hogsmeade weekend though?" Ginny suddenly asked, lifting her face and glancing at Hermione through red-rimmed eyes. "Did you get a lead?"
"Yes," Hermione nodded, glad for the change of topic. "We did!"
Ginny rearranged the pillows on her bed behind her back and waited for Hermione to elaborate. Hermione perched on the younger girl's bed as well, and Ginny drew the curtain shut and settled her legs under the covers. "Well?" she asked, tendrils of red escaping their braided prison, and brown eyes alight with the prospect of finally knowing the identity of the person who did this.
"Alfred Vane…"
Ginny's brow furrowed. "Who?"
"Fake name," Hermione shrugged. "But we do know a Vane, don't we?"
Ginny was silent for a moment and then nodded. "Yes, we do; Romilda Vane."
"Exactly," Hermione whispered.
"How do you want to do this?" Ginny asked, "We can't use truth serum again! The teachers— they are actually keeping an eye on all of us."
"We don't have to." Hermione shrugged. "I'm a Prefect, I can demand some answers."
"I suppose you could." Ginny nodded slowly. "What about Malfoy?"
"Yeah, we probably should find her as soon as possible. I don't think Malfoy is above hexing a girl. Especially not one he holds accountable for that Love potion."
"Well, we might get a chance during lunch." Ginny nodded, glancing at the clock on her bedside. "It's almost over though."
When they made it to lunch they had barely enough time to swiftly grab a sandwich. Folding a napkin around the sandwich, they both glanced around the table.
"She isn't here," Ginny muttered annoyed.
"Do you know where—"
"No, but I'll find her. I probably have a better chance of getting the answers we need." Ginny said, eyeing the sandwiches with distaste.
"I'm a Prefect," Hermione started, frowning. Glancing down at her shiny Prefect badge, she waited for Ginny to elaborate.
"Exactly," Ginny muttered, eyeing the other girl apprehensively.
"I don't think I understand, Gin…" Hermione asked, the words tasting foreign in her mouth.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but you can act rather— importantly," Ginny explained. "It can rub people the wrong way…"
"Oh," Hermione muttered dumbly.
Ginny smiled pleasantly, before picking an apple from a tray and left the Great Hall again, in search of Romilda Vane. Hermione watched her friend fighting her way through the bustling crowd and smiled tentatively. She didn't immediately notice Harry and Ron huddled together until she felt their stares on her. They were seated at the end of the Gryffindor table, creases in their brows and varying expressions on their faces. Ron looked angry although smug while Harry looked worried.
Hermione sighed, before joining the trio with a slight raise of her eyebrows. "Something the matter, guys?"
Ginny swallowed before standing up and rushing out of the Hall without saying a word to Hermione. "What's going on?"
"As if we would tell that to a traitor." Ron spat.
Hermione breathed in slowly — 'think about your breathing exercises, Hermione, breathe, just breathe' — and clenched and unclenched her hands. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Ron. Harry, what's going on?"
"Why are you meeting with Malfoy?" Harry asked. A look of anger flashed across his face.
"She's fraternising with the enemy, that's what she's doing, Harry." Ron snapped and Hermione gave him such a cold look that he snapped his mouth shut.
"Well, I'm so very glad you're back to your old self." she muttered snootily, her hands tightening around her cup of Yasmin tea.
"This is Malfoy, Hermione!" Harry hissed. "He's the one who insulted you for years. He got me out of the Quidditch game."
She winced and crossed her arms over her chest. Harry looked wounded, angry and hurt. It isn't a look she liked on him, but Hermione can't deal with it right now. He didn't say anything. Ever since Christmas, when Professor Dumbledore had ordered him to follow Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape, he seemed less easy provoked in a screaming match. That didn't mean he was capable of keeping his temper under full control and Hermione blew tiredly into her tea and inhaled sharply to stop herself from reacting. When he'd announced Snape was teaching him Occlumency, Hermione's heart felt constricted with envy. It would be so handy — useful — if you were capable of blocking out invaders. She could definitely use that ability. Especially combined with Leglimency.
Placing her teacup onto the table, she worried her lower lip, before glancing at Harry. His cheeks were rapidly growing a dark red colour. She opened her mouth, not sure what she wanted to say, but Harry shakes his head angrily.
"Save it, Hermione," he snapped heatedly, his eyes flashing dangerously behind the lenses of his glasses. "You were supposed to be on my side."
Hermione snorted. "Like the way you are on my side, I suppose?" she shot back.
Harry grimaced and crossed his arms over his chest.
The plates disappeared and left the long House tables with nothing but a few cups and goblets. Ron's gloomy expression slowly fell away and instead a small smile appeared. Hermione watched Lavender Brown sag onto his lap, wrap her arms around his neck and kiss the tall boy languidly on his lips.
A mild stab of irritation and disgust shot through her, but other than that she felt nothing. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she stood from her seat and stuffed an apple into her bag for later.
"I see you guys later, I have homework to do," she muttered, glancing around the table. No trace of Romilda Vane. The girl could have been anywhere and she really needed to do some homework. With swift steps, she left the Great Hall.
"I mean it, she get's more difficult every day," Ron muttered and Hermione flinched slightly.
She glanced backwards. Harry gave Ron an unimpressed glare and she noticed the anger that had settled on Ron's face. She couldn't entirely blame them for being angry. After all, it had been her who had withdrawn from them. She would have considered apologising awkwardly, had she anything to apologise for, but she had been hurt by Ron's insensitive words.
She shook her head, Lavender Brown curled around him. His grimace was even obvious to her, and she smiled.
She had absolutely no desire to see Lav-Lav — Ron's pet-name for the girl — (force)feed him peas, which she liked doing, whenever Hermione was around. Brushing a lock of her bushy hair behind her shoulder, she quickened her step and swiftly ascended the stairs.
o.O.o
Draco watched her go. Watched her look tentatively back to her so-called best friends and watched the slight amusement when Lavender Brown straddled her boyfriend's — the idea alone made him sick — with a raised eyebrow. He wasn't sure when she stopped being hurt by the redhead's actions, and he wasn't sure why it pleased him, but he was sure she wasn't hurting anymore. He had always thought the pair were crazy about each other, but rather than admitting it, Ron Weasley resorted to the most ludicrous tactics to make her jealous.
Even he should have noticed by now, it was no longer working. Slinging his bag over his shoulder he stood up.
"Where are you going?" Theodore asked, a frown furrowing his eyebrows. "You barely ate anything…"
"Not really hungry, Theo." Draco dismissed, "I'm going to get some studying done."
Theo nodded, his eyes flitting to Crabbe and Goyle seated on either side of him. Draco smiled; ever since he had fallen out of grace, they followed Theodore Nott around. The only time the other boy got rid of them was when they were training for Quidditch — and then they fell back on following Draco — or when he went to take a shower. Theodore couldn't even escape them when he tried to barricade himself in the library — which had always been a fine place to be alone, for Draco — and obviously, Theo hoped the two bulky boys were going to follow Draco again.
"You're going after that girl?" Blaise asked, buttering his toast.
"What girl?" Draco asked annoyed.
"The Vane girl?" Blaise asked raising an eyebrow, "The one we are supposed to lay off of until you figured out if she was the one who drugged us?"
"No," Draco shook his head, "The silly bint is always surrounded by her friends, I don't need them running off, informing a teacher."
"Is that Granger's job?" Pansy asked, unable to keep the scorn out of her voice. Draco shrugged.
"She has a better chance of getting near her, without raising suspicion, doesn't she?"
Pansy grimaced, before glaring at the High table. Minerva McGonagall stared back, her glasses balancing on the tip of her nose. The Head of Gryffindor House was constantly keeping a close eye on the Slytherins. Draco didn't doubt she would file for his — or any of their — expulsion if they were found (again) into a compromising position.
"Good luck with ancient runes," Theo muttered, trying to shove Crabbe's offending elbow away.
Draco nodded and left the Great Hall with brisk steps. He didn't really need to study for Ancient Runes, not for anything actually. Thanks to his nagging, walking textbook he was far ahead in every class. Studying with her had its benefits. One of them; she didn't leave something until it was done.
Absolutely and completely done.
He noticed her seated at a table in the end of the library. Her cheeks were slightly pink and her teeth were lodged into her lower lip. Draco rested his hip against the edge of the desk, glancing down at her frizzy head with a frown. She didn't seem to notice him.
Draco cleared his throat; "You are upset, or aren't you?" he was under the impression she wasn't, and now, watching her worry her lower lip, he felt annoyed.
She smiled tightly, obviously already seen him coming "No. Yes. Ugh, yeah, I am, but not as much as I used to be." she admitted. "It's as if I don't care anymore. But my friends are rejecting me, donning me like trash, and that hurts."
"Are the Weasel and you fighting again?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Hermione frowned; "Don't call him that." she scolded, her hands gripped at the arms of the chair she sat in, her knuckles turning white.
"So you are fighting…" he deducted, smirking slightly at her irritated face. He used to be a thorn in her side, so easily and so much fun to provoke. She kept herself in the background whenever he and her toy boys fought, but her face was so expressive. Sometimes all he had to do was look at her to set her off.
"Ron and I have been a bit rocky ever since— ah— the Slytherin party." Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure what he thought. He and Lavender seemed to have hit rock-bottom as well."
"What did they do now?"
"They think I am fraternising with the enemy." Hermione muttered, "Or that's what Ron said."
"Fraternising? That's a big word for him." Malfoy drawled, and she punched his shoulder.
"It's a tad childish don't you think?"
"No, it's more silly," Malfoy answered. "You shouldn't have left though. It will be seen as a sign of weakness."
Hermione frowned, flattening the front of her skirt a bit.
"Just fuck those arseholes, Granger. What they think or what they say doesn't matter. Especially Weasley!"
Hermione smiled tightly and then she drew in a shuddering gasp. She bends toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist until she could press her forehead against his shoulder. She felt him stiffen against her. Heard him inhale sharply, hold his breath for a few seconds, and exhaled slowly again. Hermione wondered how many people actually were close enough to him to hug him.
He patted her awkwardly on her head and she sniffed softly. He was a puzzle, and she didn't have all the pieces. She herself was a puzzle as well. Why was she so upset? She hadn't been upset when she'd seen Lavender and Ron kiss, but now.
"I don't know why I am so upset all the time," she admitted softly.
"Because your friends are bigger arseholes than mine are?" Draco asked. She half-laughed, half-sniffed and Draco slowly wedged a finger beneath her chin and lifted her tear-stained face to his. "It's not your fault."
"Isn't it?" she asked softly.
"No," he explained. "It's not."
He slowly stepped back, catching a lock of her hair and pushing it behind her ear. Hermione let her arms fall back along her side and exhaled softly.
"Just take care, all right, Granger?"
"Yes." she retaliated, "Thank you,"
Draco Malfoy nodded and stared in awe as he left again. She watched his retreating back and smiled slightly to herself. She wiped at a stray lone tear dripping down her cheek and exhaled softly. Hermione slowly lowered herself into her seat and glanced at her notes.
"Hermione?" a voice asked, and the tip of her pencil snapped off. Hermione felt her mouth slack open when she noticed Harry step out from behind the bookcase.
"Harry?" Hermione whispered, extracting her sharpener from her pencil case, prolonging the moment before she had to face him. He'd seen her, obviously, and now she would get another earful of why Malfoy was a maniac and how she was betraying his and Ron's trust.
Harry stepped further around the corner into the deserted Hogwarts Library. He was staring at her oddly, though at least he wasn't gaping at her. Hermione let her head drop into her open hand, pursing her lips and waiting for Harry Potter to react. He didn't. He tapped his fingers against the bookcase, before crossing the space between them and plopped down across from her. His chair scraped over the floor noisily.
"So— You and Malfoy…"
"It isn't like we're going out." she muttered defensively, but Harry shook his head.
"No," he answered, taking off his glasses, rubbing his temples tiredly, "I know you aren't— Not like it's any of my business though."
"Harry?"
"I don't like Malfoy," he whispered and Hermione almost rolled her eyes at that. "I really don't, but Malfoy has been more supportive than I have."
Hermione swallowed and nervously fiddled with her pencil. Harry cleared his throat. "I'm sorry Hermione. You've been my friend since we've been eleven and I—"
"I have been lonely without you," Hermione admitted. "It— It's okay. As long as you never do it again!" she mumbled and Harry shot her a guilty lopsided grin.
"I can talk to Ron if you want me to. I'm sure if I talk to him I—"
"No," Hermione shook her head, "Ron will have to come to me himself. All of this wasn't my fault and honestly, I didn't have much fun like this."
"Well, you have been spending a lot of time with Malfoy," Harry muttered sarcastically.
Hermione rolled her eyes before the both of them laughed. Madam Pince clucked her tongue, but for once didn't comment. Harry pushed his glasses back on his nose, the glass glinting in the harsh light of the sun.
o.O.o
Ginny Weasley spent the whole day following after Romilda Vane and her friends. She had found Romilda Vane climbing the rickety staircase swirling around the Owlery. She staggered up the stairs, clinging to the railings and dragging her increasingly heavy legs to the top. Ginny gritted her teeth and followed the girl into the circular room.
Although Ginny was glad the younger girl wasn't around her friends for once, this day had been extremely tiring. Romilda was standing in the centre of the room, her back towards Ginny as she silently walked further into the room. The girl was looking out of the wide-open windows.
Ginny made sure her footsteps were as silent as possible, and the redhead wrapped her arms around the other girl's torso, before pushing her wand under the other girl's chin.
"The love potion, we know it was you."
Romilda had stiffened in her arms. She stuttered and denied Ginny's words at first, but well, Ginny had the Weasley temper. And apparently, the other girl knew that.
Katie Bell the Prefect had confiscated the phials and therefore Romilda had never been able to use it. Ginny had almost hexed the younger girl anyway because she had wanted to use the fucking love potion on Harry.
Either way, Romilda didn't know what had happened to it, but Ginny did. She knew Katie Bell. She knew the girl, although a Prefect, wouldn't have given the phials over to Minerva McGonagall. That meant she kept it, and practically anyone could have gotten their hands on it.
Romilda knew that too and when Ginny let her arms drop, she'd flounced off, her posture perfect, and Ginny remained in the foyer, her fingers stiff.
Ginny sat back on the stone step of the stairs towards the first floor. Her shoulders shuddered and her bottom lip trembled. Her body had curled into itself, her chin rested on her shivering knees and her arms tightly hugged her legs to her heaving chest. Tears streaked down her cheeks and dripped on her knees.
She had one anxious hand clasped over her mouth, trying to muffle her soft sobs that tore automatically from her throat. Her school robes were dirty — old too big, like most of the clothing she owned — and her nose started to run.
She knew who did it and it broke her heart.
To be continued…
A/N: And here is chapter ten. I feel somewhat mean for this cliffhanger, but feel free to guess. Some of you are really good at guessing^^
Please comment!
Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling.