Note: I don't know what it was, some kind of end-of-year writer's block, I suppose, but I simply couldn't write! It was driving me mad as well, if it's any consolation. Anyway, I think it has passed now and I can write again. Wheeee! And so, here's a chapter I've been kept you waiting for quite a while, but it's here now and it's long, and I think you will like it. ;)
The Founding of Pigwarts III – Chaos Is Served
Chapter 12: Another Glorious Day
The trouble with a good night's sleep is that at a certain moment it will end. This moment is usually called the morning, and not all wake up calls are as sweet as some others. A slow deep kiss would definitely be on the good side, while being abruptly robbed of the blanket or showered by cold water isn't, yet they are both better than a hateful cry of "Wake up, sleeping beast. Time to scrape your ugly mug off the pillow and go frighten a few children with it."
After a few muffled grunts Hermione sat up and rubbed her eyes, then glared at her reflection. It wasn't much of a reflection, she had to admit, but the sole fact that she was able to see it was worse than her sleepy appearance, because unlike the other it could talk back.
"Lola. I see you have returned."
"Oh yes," the mirror bragged. "Gorgeous started to miss me. We are bonded to each other, in a very special way that you will never achieve."
Hermione opened her mouth to say something witty, realized that she was definitely not in the mood for another fight with Lola, and changed her retort into a question.
"Where is gorgeous?"
"Away from you, and that's quite a blessing."
"Did you have fun in the owlery?" Hermione snapped, already feeling her spirits, which hadn't been very high to start with, drop. Lola knew exactly how to exploit her less glorious moments, and she never missed a chance. In the beginning all her derogatory comments had only amused her, and in the beginning they actually hadn't been quite this nasty. But now with the school and everything, it seemed that both her and Lola were stressing out. Or perhaps the mirror had just realized that Hermione wasn't one of those coming-going phenomena and decided it was time to turn her into it. Or perhaps she had simply been too euphoric before to notice the nastiness. Or perhaps she was over-analysing things again. Or perhaps she was still cranky because she had been really exhausted last night and hadn't had enough rest yet and had been totally dejected by the unsatisfactory awakening. After all, every morning until now she had woken up either by herself or...
"You are awake already," spoke a slightly disappointed voice, and turning her head towards it she found 'gorgeous' standing at the bathroom door, wearing nothing but a towel round his waist, strands of wet hair hanging over his eyes, skin glistening with drops of water. And despite her sleepy cranky gloomy mood Hermione still felt the need to swallow before being able to reply, silently thinking that there were moments when she couldn't but agree with Lola's name for him. Okay, to tell the truth, there were rather many of such moments, but some of them were just a bit more so, and this was one of them.
"I have to, don't I? Can't sleep in now that the school has started." And despite Hermione's love of mornings, this was said with a considerable amount of regret.
"Not yet. There's still half an hour left."
While the idea of sleeping in had sounded wonderfully sweet just a moment ago, these words were the chocolate to her ears. Half an hour. There was still time. For a proper wake up call.
The last thing she heard before being robbed of this world and taken to a much better one was Lola huffing. It was another glorious day.
---
"Just look at them!" Millicent snarled. "They're practically radiating vampireness."
"Oh, yes," Blaise agreed. "All those vampire vibes shooting off them. It's incredible how everyone else seems so oblivious to this."
"Andthey are sitting in the shade!" she exclaimed, paying no attention to him whatsoever.
There was, however, someone who paid attention to Blaise, although not as much to what he was saying as to how he was leaning towards his friend.
"They're not together, you know," Daphne remarked. It had just so happened that she was sitting next to Ron and while it was required to look into his face to see the deep frown and dark grimace, the daggers he was glaring moved like real metal through the air. At least for the highly sensitive receptors of a Divination Professor.
"Yes, they are," Harry spoke from her other side, just so she had happened to be seated between them. "They are very much together. Believe me. Very much together."
He shivered as all those memories he had fought very hard to lock up into a mental closet started rattling there like a skeleton dancing polka. Which, had he taken some time to consider it, sounded almost as disturbing as to what he had seen in the garden one lousy day. But he didn't take the time, because thinking was evil. Just as remembering. And voting against his wife.
"No, they aren't," Daphne affirmed. "Not in the traditional sense, anyway."
"How much more traditional can it get than doing it right in front of the house!" Harry hissed, then realized what he had just spoken and turned a bit green in the face.
"You can do it in a bed, for a start," she offered, before addressing Ron again. "But they are not together, so you can have her."
"Have who?" Ron snapped out of his reverie, looking slightly puzzled and quite guilty.
"Millicent, of course," Daphne grinned. "Why else would you be looking at Blaise like this... unless..."
"Unless what?" he asked, half curious, half annoyed, still entirely guilty.
"Unless it's Blaise you fancy."
It was very unfortunate for Neville that he had picked the seat right across the table from Ron, because the next moment he was showered with pumpkin juice in a rather unhygienic way.
"I... a-am... not!" Ron spluttered, bringing his fist down to the table at the last word for extra emphasis, also upsetting Harry's goblet and flooding him with pumpkin juice, too, although in a slightly more hygienic way.
"All right, all right," Daphne tried to soothe him, raising her hands in a placating gesture and only then noticing that she was holding her cup in one hand and knife in the other. After a moment's hesitation she put the knife down, deliberating that while knives weren't famous for spilling drinks at people, she could always hit him with the goblet, should it ever get that far.
"So it's still Millicent, right?" she ventured after a while, when the KILL in Ron's glare had turned back to KILL BLAISE.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," he shrugged, refusing to meet her eyes.
Daphne let it pass. For the time being, that is. Because something else had suddenly struck her and it was even better.
"So, Hermione's the new Flying Instructor. What do you think of that, boys?"
"It's a great idea!" Ron sighed dreamily, as a particularly pleasant memory of last night came back to him. A nod, a smile, lots of yelling... alright, not the yelling. But the nod, and the smile!
"It's the most stupid thing Hermione could have ever done!" Harry exclaimed. "I realize she was drunk, and that she was... drunk, but for the love of I-don't-know-what, she's Hermione! She is not supposed to act like that, even when drunk and... drunk!"
Daphne raised a brow. Harry sounded especially hostile this morning. Whatever Ginny had done to him, it had definitely worked.
"You mean it's worse than her making out with Draco?"
"Ye... Nnnnn... Yes! It's one thing to let Malfoy into her bed, but to have him teach innocent children and corrupt their minds and turn them into Muggle-hating maniacs and..."
Harry stopped. This thought had sounded so perfect inside his head, but now that he had spoken it out he couldn't help but take notice of some serious flaws in it, starting with the fact that it had sounded very much like he accepted Hermione being with Malfoy, which he definitely, definitely didn't. And when it came to corrupting the innocent and training Muggle-hating maniacs... well... he was not going as far as to admit that Malfoy had changed, nah-ah, no way, but... Hermione would kick his sorry ferret ass if he ever said one bad thing about Muggles, that was sure. And then, later, the rest of them would kick him off the highest tower or something, and that would be the end of Draco Malfoy, good riddance.
But this also meant that the coward was too afraid to even think about corrupting the innocent, and him, Harry, had just lost the best, and only, argument he had come up with. Damn!
"It's still bloody stupid," he muttered angrily. And it was. Because if Hermione had not made that deal with Malfoy, there wouldn't have been any voting about it, and without the voting he wouldn't have got the chance to be a total moron and have his wife raving mad at him.
It was all Hermione's fault that his wake up call this morning had been getting hit in the face with the floor, like spending the night in an armchair listening to the wonderful sound of Ron's carefree snoring hadn't been bad enough. All right, so perhaps the armchair hadbeen rather cosy, and perhaps it wasn't so much his friend's sleeping noises as his own morose thoughts that had kept him awake, but he was in a lousy mood and damn it all to hell if he couldn't blame others for his idiocy as well.
"Well, as far as I know," Daphne spoke, grinning mentally at what she was about to say, "she wasn't the only one drunk and drunk that night. Who knows, perhaps you did something even more stupid."
"More stupid than inviting Malfoy to join us?" Harry hissed, finding the idea too ludicrous to be surprised about it. "More stupid than making such a deal with him? More stupid than starting to feel something other than deep hatred and contempt towards him?"
She made a thoughtful face, as if considering this.
"Well, you never know," she finally shrugged. "If I were you, I'd get my hands on the recording of that night and make sure, just in case."
"What recording?" Harry frowned.
"Hermione had a recording spell going on that night," she explained. "And Draco snatched the book. Or at least, that's what I've heard."
Now Harry was surprised. And Daphne, too, who had thought they knew all about this little book already. But they didn't, which meant that Ginny hadn't told them either, which in turn might indicate that the girl did not intend her husband and brother ever to find out about that little moment of intimacy they had shared. Yet she hadn't ordered her to keep it quiet either, and thus she had done absolutely nothing wrong. Too bad Ginny would never see it from that angle.
"Whatever," Harry said at last. His curiosity was picked, true, but he also got a weird feeling that he was a lot better off without whatever information those recordings might hold. Of course, he was still thinking in the terms of Malfoy and Hermione, the idea that something he and Ron had done might be worse still too ridiculous for him to even consider it. But maybe, maybe there were other preposterous deals made that night, deals he had better know beforehand and be prepared for.
Maybe taking a quick look at the events of that night, emitting certain parts, of course, was not such a bad idea at all. Maybe...
"Just wondering," he said, trying to look indifferent and innocent, forgetting that he was doing it in front of a Slytherin. "Where is this book of recordings supposed to be?"
"If I were Draco I would keep it in my study," Daphne replied. "With all the other dark secrets I may have."
And this was what caught Harry's full attention, just like she knew it would. Because learning about the happenings of some drunken night was nothing compared to all the other dark and horrible material definitely to be found there. Something to use against Malfoy, something to blackmail him into leaving Hermione alone, leaving them all alone and disappearing for good.
Barely able to contain his excitement, he still tried to sound disinterested.
"Have you, by any chance, been there?"
"I've broken in once or twice, if that's what you mean," Daphne said, winking.
"Broken in?" he repeated, raising a brow.
"Well, yes, he's not as stupid as to keep it unlocked, even more so now with the students here and everything. In fact, I think he's upgraded the security measures a lot after the opening of the school. As far as I know, he's the only one having access to it."
She wasn't lying, Daphne told herself. So perhaps she was ready to bet her left toe (Slytherins were rather self-preservative) that Hermione could go there, too, but no one had explicitly told her that.
Harry nodded, now deep in thought, saying no more, and Daphne remained silent as well. Of course, while he was making plans of breaking into Malfoy's office, she was going through a mental list of people who to include in the bet on how long it would take him to do it, and how many limbs he would lose in the process. Slytherins, remember? None of his traps were destined to be nice.
---
Ginny never showed up for breakfast, and neither did Hermione and Draco, but Harry realized this only when taking a quick detour through the Professors' Lounge and almost being tackled by her.
She took one look at him, squealed in joy, and then bounced on him, rendering him immobile for the next crucial moments.
"Hey!" he finally found his voice and protested. "These scones are for Ginny!"
She quickly swallowed the last bite and looked up with an unabashed grin, not even pretending to feel guilty.
"You gave her my scones!" someone spoke rather coolly, and whipping around he found his wife glaring at him.
"Ginny, I..."
"You're picking her over me in everything, and that simply will not do," she stated crisply and the small fox by her side bared its teeth in warning.
"Ginny, I'm an idiot!" he tried, but she just huffed and turned her back to him.
"Don't worry, she'll forgive you," Hermione patted him on the shoulder.
Harry stared off into the space for a while, then gave her a mixed look of desperation and anger.
"This is all your fault," he announced.
"Guilty as charged," she raised her hand and giggled, causing Harry to stare at her with wide eyes.
He was about to make a sour remark in the direction of her way too chirpy mood, when there was suddenly a small flash of light that caught his full attention.
Hermione, a bit puzzled with his growing still and silent, said his name for a couple of times, poked his arm gently and when none of this helped waved her hand in front of his face. Only then did Harry snap out of this, but instead of looking at her face, he eyes seemed to follow the movements of her hand.
"I thought it was onyx," he finally spoke. "But it's not, is it?"
This most odd comment of his made her confusion boost, and she was starting to become a bit concerned for him. Perhaps she shouldn't have acted quite that carelessly and shamelessly with him; just because the morning had treated her well didn't mean it had done the same for him. And of course it hadn't, she gave herself a mental slap. What with Ginny being still so angry with him, and then her going and ruining his sweet plan of bringing her some scones. For a moment Hermione considered walking up to the nearest wall and banging her head against it, but then her rational side reminded her that the only thing she would accomplish with that would be a terrible headache.
"Not onyx, is it?" Harry repeated his strange question, cutting through her mental process and bringing her attention back to him.
"What's not onyx?" she asked, frowning, hoping that there was some deeper point behind this and her friend hadn't just gone gaga.
"Your ring," he stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I thought the stone was onyx, but it's not, is it?"
So perhaps he wasn't blabbering complete nonsense, Hermione reflected, raising her hand to her eyes and glancing at her ring. And Harry was right, of course, it was not onyx. But why in the name of Merlin was this so important that he had to mention it, especially in a voice sounding like he had made some huge discovery.
"What are you talking about?" Ginny inquired, moving closer to the duo, her curiosity overpowering the decision to keep distance from her husband.
"Hermione's ring," he pointed towards it. "I thought it was onyx, but it's not."
"No, it's black diamond, isn't it?" Ginny announced, grabbing her friend's hand and giving the ring a scrutinizing look.
"Exactly," Harry beamed at his wife. "Black diamond."
"A black diamond. What of it?"
"No, Ginny," he shook his head. "Not a black diamond. A Black diamond."
"Eh?" she looked at him in confusion, her expression and voice so like her brother's.
"A Black diamond. Like the House of Black, Black Family Tree. Like Sirius Black," he ended in a much softer tone.
"Sirius? Black?" she repeated, resembling Ron more and more in her puzzlement. She looked from the triumphant smile on her husband's face down to the ring on the hand she was still clutching and back again. But it was only when she caught a glimpse of Hermione's eyes and the shocked guilt in them that something clicked in her brain.
"You said you got it from your grandmother!" she turned towards her accusingly.
"I said it belonged to grandmother," she replied, not able to sound as calm as she wanted. "I never said it was my grandmother."
Ginny gave her a most intense stare, as if trying to read her mind, while Hermione's thoughts had turned towards the wall and headbanging once again. So that's what Harry had realized! And of course he would make that connection since he had actually been there to witness the proposal and was one of the very few people who knew about this.
She wasn't ready to go public with it yet. They had managed to minimize the media's attention to their relationship thanks to that little devilish plan they had cooked up, oversneaking Ginny and Daphne in the progress. But she couldn't think up a diversion big enough to cover for their engagement, and thus had simply decided to keep it a secret as long as possible. She had even had a fight with Draco over this, who apparently didn't like the idea of not being able to tell the world that she belonged to him, which of course had upset her inner feminist and resulted in a long furious quarrel including lots of shouting, lots of expensive things hitting walls and floors, and several spells flying in the air. Of course, the long heated squabble was followed by a long heated making up, so she couldn't quite regret losing her temper like this. And she was able to make him see things her way, or at least keep his mouth shut for her sake. He still hated this though, and she hated herself a bit for making him do it, but then she'd open the morning's Daily Prophet and fail to see a picture of herself or him on the first page, and the relief would be bigger than guilt.
Ginny was still staring at her. She raised her brow in a look of challenge, knowing very well that the secret was out, because what Ginny knew today everybody would know tomorrow, even though the redhead herself would object strongly to such notice.
Ginny, suddenly remembering something, wheeled around, fixing her mind-reading-gaze on someone else now. And she had been right, Malfoy was still in the room, leaning against a wall beside them and smirking in such a smug possessive passionate way that if Hermione's eyes hadn't told her everything, the look on his face definitely did.
"Hermione!" she squeaked, spinning back to face her. "This is terrific! Congratulations!"
Smiling a little despite herself, Hermione returned the hug that she had just been enveloped in, and felt her spirits rise when finally letting go of her Ginny continued jumping up and down, giggling and shouting things like Wheeeee! But as time passed and she had yet to stop this silly behaviour, Hermione found it harder and harder to resist joining in and being as silly herself. When the redhead finally grew tired of all the jumping around, Hermione was grinning practically from ear to ear. Seeing this, Ginny's eyes suddenly narrowed.
"I saw you with this ring the day after the Grand Opening," she said, panting a bit from her crazy bouncing.
"Yes," Hermione nodded, quite aware of what was to come but not so much afraid of it any longer. Ginny's pure childish happiness had been rather contagious. And she had had a glorious morning herself, after all.
"That was weeks ago," her friend continued, her voice turning dark and dangerous.
"I can explain, Ginny."
"Yes," she almost hissed. "You better."
Hermione opened her mouth to list all the reasons for not telling Ginny about her engagement, all those perfectly good and rational and logical points, when it suddenly came to her mind that Ginny might not find them as acceptable and satisfactory as she did. She should, of course, having gone through all that media attention and public fuss with Harry and having grown tired of it rather soon, but she might point out that there was a big difference between telling friends and telling everybody, and she might not appreciate to hear that Ginny's friends were everybody. (Well, not literally everybody. But she would definitely tell Daphne, and Daphne would tell Dean, and Dean would tell Seamus, and Seamus would let it slip, accidentally or otherwise, to someone in the Ministry and that would be it. And then Daphne would also tell Blaise, and Blaise would tell Millicent, and Millicent would tell the Daily Prophet and that would again be it.)
Bearing this in mind, Hermione shut her mouth with a snap and tried to do some quick thinking, which was not that easy under Ginny's sharp and demanding glare.
"Potter knew it, too," Draco suddenly drawled, either to help out his fiancée or cause some more trouble or both. But whatever his motives were the plan worked, as Ginny instantaneously turned away from Hermione to glower at Harry instead.
"You knew this!" she cried in shock and anger. "You knew this and you didn't tell me, your wife?!"
Harry was more than taken aback and caught off guard by such a sudden shift of rage towards him, not to mention that he had been deep in thought for awhile already, ever since he had revealed the secret of the Black diamond, thinking how to best use it to his advantage.
Now, receiving such a ferocious attack from his wife, he opened his mouth to defend himself and somehow placate her, despite the fact that just like Hermione a few moments ago, he didn't have a decent excuse, either, except for the one that the whole thing had been so unpleasant he had tried to forget all about it. And there was no Malfoy to save his skin.
But there was a future Malfoy, who saw the opportunity and flew to his rescue.
"He didn't tell you anything because I made him promise not to," Hermione said. "And I have to make you promise the same, Ginny."
The fury shifted back to her, but she quickly continued, not allowing her to protest.
"Remember all the moaning you did about the articles and rumours and talk about you and Harry? How you wished you could just run away to someplace you weren't famous to be left in peace? How you hated the way people always stared and pointed at you when you walked past? All the hate mail you got from thousands of girls worldwide all thinking they would make a much better wife for the famous Harry Potter? You remember all that, Gin? Then how can you blame me for not wanting any of it?"
Ginny's expression turned from angry to reminiscent.
"It wasn't that bad," she said with a small shrug. "So I got a few letters, a few stares, a few rumours. Big deal."
"A few letters? A few letters? You told me the floor of your room was covered with a layer of letters filled with insults and threats!"
"What?" Harry exclaimed. "You didn't tell me that!"
"That's because it didn't happen," she retorted. "Honestly, Hermione, you can't believe everything I say. So I happened to be in a mood to rant, so I happened to exaggerate a bit, so Mum and Fleur had managed to get me near pulling my hair in frustration. It was just a couple of letters, and most of them were congratulations anyway. Jeezh, Hermione, no need to get dramatical."
Now it was Hermione's turn to glare.
"But you said they were driving you insane and you wanted to escape to some deserted island somewhere!"
"I meant Mum and Fleur. They were driving me crazy."
"But the media..."
"It's not that bad, Hermione," Ginny patted her shoulder. "Besides, you're not marrying Harry, you're not marrying the Boy Who Lived, the Saviour of Wizardkind, the Demolisher of Voldemort, the Vanquisher of All Evil, and so on."
"No," Hermione shook her head, a bit amused by the sour face Harry made at his various titles. Of course, Ginny had seemed to forget the best one.
"Oh, and the Ridiculously Sexy Hero, too," Ginny added, winking at him. This time he blushed and quickly looked away.
Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes.
"No, but unfortunately I'm famous as well. Sort of. I think," she frowned, considering this for a moment.
"Of course you are," Harry said. "And so is Malfoy. Although, if you don't mind me saying, his fame might not be of the most favourable kind."
"We do mind you saying that," Ginny snapped, then addressed Hermione again. "That's not the reason behind your secrecy, is it?"
"No!" Hermione gasped most vehemently. "Harry's an idiot!"
"Hey!"
"Yes, yes he is," Ginny agreed.
"Hey!"
"Oh, shut up, Harry, or you'll be sleeping in Ron's armchair for a very long time."
"You're sleeping in Weasley's armchair, Potter?"
"Hey!" Harry exclaimed again. "Why is everybody against me suddenly? What ganging up is this? We were discussing Hermione and her engagement here, remember? Besides, it's perfectly natural of her to want to keep this a secret for as long as possible."
Hermione whipped her head toward him, not having expected support from that direction.
"Thank you, Harry," she smiled.
"I mean," he continued, ignoring her words, "it's obvious she's still hesitating about this whole marriage thing. And who can blame her when the bastard gave her the ring of his grandmother, whose motto, as you all very well know, is that toujours pur crap. No wonder she doesn't want to tell everyone about it, this way she can end it at any moment she wants without the need to explain it to the whole world. I completely understand and supp— aarrghhh!"
"Harry Potter, may I have a word with you?" Ginny glared at him, not yet removing her foot from his.
"What, Gin?"
"Outside, if you don't mind," she continued, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the door.
"Come, Roxy!" she called over her shoulder, and once her pet had reached her side, gave Harry one final push out of the room and closed the door behind them.
"Right," Hermione said, looking at the door and seething. Then she shook herself out of this, marched up to her things at the coffee table, took a clean sheet of parchment and her quill and ink, and sitting down on the couch began to write: Dear correspondent of the Daily Prophet, I have a most sensational piece of news for you...
"You don't have to do this," said a voice beside her.
"I want to," she replied, not raising her head or halting her progress.
"Because you want people to know or because you want to prove Potter wrong?"
Now her quill did stop and she looked up at Draco. There was an amount of uncertainty in his grey eyes and his expression was too serious for him to be joking.
"You can't actually believe it," she huffed, feeling a bit insulted by his lack of trust in her and her love for him.
"Then why are you writing this letter?" he insisted. "Why do you want to prove him wrong if you already know he is?"
"Because I want him to leave us alone!" she shouted, jumping to her feet. "Because he's been against us since the day he found out and if he goes on thinking that I might be hesitating he is not going to relent. He's not going to accept us and he will try to break us up. And he won't give up when all his plans fail one after another, he won't give up because he's Harry Potter and he's a Gryffindor and he's bloody stubborn."
"He's your friend," Draco said, a bit carefully for he hadn't expected such an answer from her.
"That's the worst part," Hermione growled. "I can't curse him when he's being extremely aggravating and a total idiot."
"Perhaps you should break his nose then. It seemed to work on Weasley."
There was a silence as she considered this. He was right, Ron had been shockingly tolerable after that incident at the wedding. True, he hadn't quite accepted their relationship, and that would have been too much to ask anyway, but excluding a few glares he never expressed any violence or contempt towards Draco. Even thought they did spend some time together, with Ron always hanging out with Blaise and Millicent.
Wait a second, just wait a bloody second.
Hermione smiled. That was it! Blaise and Millicent. Ron had made friends with Slytherins, and thus was able to act better towards Draco as well. So it wasn't the nosebreak that made him a decent guy, but a couple of Slytherins. And was this weird or what? Slytherins – the proved cure for moronic hotheadedness. Who could have guessed that?
"Hermione? Hermione?"
"What?" she looked at him, still smiling.
"You're not seriously considering it, are you? Because I was just joking, you know."
"No, I have other plans with him," she said, then pondered his words a little. "And since when are you this concerned about Harry's welfare anyway?"
"I'm not," he replied, smirking. "I just don't want you to hurt your hand. I was about to offer myself to do it for you, actually."
"Aww, aren't you sweet," she mocked. "But better not, I'd like to keep you in one piece."
"You think I couldn't beat Potter?" he exclaimed, affronted.
"Draco, I can beat you and he's better than me."
He looked seriously offended for another moment, then gave it up with a shrug.
"At least he won't be throwing candlesticks at my head and setting my hair on fire."
"The hair was an accident and you know it," she pointed her finger at him.
"Sure, it was."
"I was simply trying to dye it fiery red."
"What?!"
"Well, haven't you ever wondered what you'd look like as a Weasley?" she remarked absent-mindedly, staring down at the letter on the table.
"I can honestly say that I haven't," he announced dramatically, then frowned a bit. "Would you like me to be a Weasley?"
"If I'd wanted a Weasley I would have taken a Weasley. There's quite a choice of them."
She picked up the parchment and went to him, twined her arms around his neck and placed a small kiss upon his lips.
"But I want a Malfoy and there's only one of those and he is mine and I want the world to know this."
He rested his hands at her hips and gave her a beatific smile.
"And you're not doing this because of Potter?"
"No," she replied, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm not doing this because of Potter. I'm doing this because I want to."
He kissed her then deeply and thoroughly, making her giddy with happiness all over again. There was regret in her expression when she finally pulled away and glanced towards the clock.
"I have to go to class," she said, pouted for a second, then smiled and gave him another chaste kiss, before slipping from his arms and grabbing her things.
Reaching the door she turned back once more, waving with the letter.
"I'll finish and post this as soon as I can," she promised.
"You shouldn't bother."
"What?" she questioned, the smile dropping from her face. "But I thought... don't you..."
"Of course I do," he reassured her quickly. "But Ginny already knows, and she will tell Daphne, and Daphne will tell everyone anyway. So don't waste your time on any letters. Better waste your time on me."
She giggled at his words and then blushed at the way he was looking at her.
"You truly are dangerous, Draco. One moment too many in your company, and I'll be sending my students to library for independent work. And what kind of Professor would do that?"
"A horny one."
She giggled and blushed some more, then waved him goodbye and left, only to return just a few seconds later.
"Changed your mind?" he asked, raising his brows.
"Just wanted to tell you that I've practically fallen in love with this ring," she raised her hand and wiggled her fingers.
"Should I feel jealous?"
"A bit wouldn't hurt," she smirked, let her laughter rang out for a moment, and then hurried to her class for real.
Draco shook his head and smiled, fishing a piece of parchment with her timetable out of his pocket to plan her a surprise visit on her free lesson.
---
A few yards from the door to the Professors' Lounge, a curtain moved a bit, and a ginger head was stuck out. After looking both ways it disappeared again, then the curtain was drawn all way open and Ginny jumped down from the windowsill.
"Well, wasn't that sweet," she cooed, referring to the scene they had been eavesdropping until Hermione had left the room and they had quickly hid themselves. "Good thing they managed to sort it out or else there would be one more reason for me to be mad at you, Harry."
"So you're not mad at me anymore?" he asked hopefully.
"I don't know," she shrugged. "Ask me again at dinner, okay?"
"Okay," he nodded and watched her walk away, the small fox at her heels. Only when she was gone did he heave a deep sigh, and climbing off the windowsill he made a silent oath to get the bastard Malfoy away from Hermione before it was too late. He would have to consult Daphne again on the topic of breaking into his study. The girl was an annoying Slytherin, but for the sake of Hermione he was ready to tolerate her.
---
Back in the Lounge, behind the couch, a lying figure took an inconspicuous breath. Squeezing the quill he had dropped there, Neville wondered why it was always him who had to hear or see all these embarrassing private scenes; he wondered why he hadn't made his presence known when it was still suitable; he wondered whether Malfoy was going to leave any time soon or he was required to spend his entire day lying on the floor behind the couch, afraid to even breathe properly.
End note: Oh dear, I was quite evil with Neville in this chapter, wasn't I? But don't worry, his time will come, and until that day I'll be evil with others, as well. :P
One more thing, please let me know whether you prefer longer chapters or shorter chapters.
review :)
