So, I just spent 30 galleons on books for next semester... Indeed, I have done a conversion to galleons. How sad is that?
Hermione slowly woke from her very nice, long, comfortable nap. She hummed and stretched lazily. She seemed to still be wearing clothes and lying on top of her covers. That was strange. She rarely fell asleep on top of her bed this late. She frowned and raised herself to her elbows.
Something was off with her bedding…
She gasped. This was most definitely not her bed. Bedding didn't even come in that color in the Gryffindor tower. Hoping against hope that she was somehow mistaken, she slowly looked around the room.
There was no mistake. There was no doubt. She'd fallen asleep on Malfoy's bed.
She fell back with a groan. At least he hadn't come back yet. Or… Something was nagging at her again. She looked up again to try and figure out what it was. The lamp. It hadn't been on earlier. Her eyes widened. He had been back here, then? And he'd let her sleep? This couldn't be good…
She scrambled off the bed, not wanting to be caught in a vulnerable position when he came back again, and she'd just righted herself somewhat when he entered. He'd obviously been taking a shower, because he was still drying his hair, even though he was thankfully fully dressed.
He looked up and pinned her with his gaze, before looking at the bed. Hermione glanced at where she had been just a few minutes earlier, and realized that she had really rumpled his spread. She winced.
He didn't comment. "Go away," he said, taking his chair.
"Why did you let me sleep?" she blurted out.
He rubbed his forehead and mumbled something very unflattering about certain inquisitive Gryffindors before asking, "What time is it?"
Hermione blinked uncomprehendingly, but dutifully answered, "2.30 a.m."
"Right," he said. "And how many people know you're here?"
She paled. Half the school probably knew where she was at.
He smirked and turned his back on her to look at his homework. "Don't worry, Granger. You could always tell them the truth – you fell asleep after I was done with you."
"You can't do that," she whispered. "You can't make people think that." He didn't respond and she took a step forward and grabbed his arm. "You can't!"
"Hey!" he exclaimed, abruptly standing, turning over the chair, as he yanked his arm back. "You don't touch me. Ever!"
Hermione didn't respond, she was too busy frowning at him. "Ice cold…" she mumbled. "You're cold as ice." She wasn't referring to his behavior anymore.
"Yes, well," he said, backing a bit away from her, "didn't anyone tell you that Slytherins are cold-blooded?"
"Your shower must have been freezing," she mused. "Why would you be taking cold showers?"
He snarled. "Maybe to prevent myself from killing Mudbloods that are drooling all over my pillow?"
"No, I think the cold would only make your mood worse," she pensively said.
"In that case," he growled, "I'd be getting out of here real fast if I were you!"
Hermione snapped to attention. What the hell was she doing? Why hadn't she just cleared out when he first told her to? She shook her head, mumbled an apology and fled.
Draco's mood was foul to say the least. He felt dirty. He felt violated. He felt… frustrated. He had been unable to concentrate on the essay that he had had to do for Slughorn, and so, he had just spent an hour being picked apart by that fat, old bigot, because of the less than stellar work he'd turned in.
Snape had been a much better Potions teacher.
Draco felt an urgent need to kick something. Preferably something small, innocent and furry. He looked around him to see if anything fit the description. He had gone out to one of the castle's inner courtyards in an effort to get some air and clear his head. Nothing small and furry presented itself, though, unless one were to count the first years, who were huddling in a corner, giving him wide-eyed stares. Their fear soothed him a little. He was still a force to be reckoned with; last night had just been… Pansy's fault. Curse Pansy for tying him in knots, when she knew that he wouldn't allow it to go any further.
The sound of voices carried on the wind and Draco stiffened. No, it couldn't be. It was too much if he couldn't even get away from her long enough to get some much needed air. He slowly looked up. It was Granger, Weasley and Potter, all together and merrily chatting away. It seemed that her friends hadn't quite abandoned her yet.
A slow smile spread across Draco's face. Maybe he'd get to kick something small and furry after all.
"There you are, lover. I've been looking for you!"
Hermione froze mid-sentence. This couldn't be. Not so blatantly. She slowly turned to find Malfoy lazily leaning against a wall. She met his cold gaze and she immediately knew what he was going to do. His lip quirked slightly at her.
"Stop saying such things," she hissed, knowing that resistance was futile, but at least hoping that Harry would get the hint.
"What?" he said, obviously trying to look hurt and failing. "You mean, you haven't told your friends yet? You promised me you would!" He held her eyes, his gaze unwavering.
"What's he talking about, Hermione?" Harry asked, clearly confused.
"N-Noth—" Hermione began, but was interrupted.
"None of that now, Hermione," Draco said with an affectionate smile. "Say what I want to hear."
The command in his voice was clear, and it was made worse by the way he almost imperceptively quirked an eyebrow.
"Malfoy…" she began, but was interrupted again.
"You know what to call me." His voice was soft as silk.
She wanted to kill him, slowly and painfully.
"I know what I would like to call you," she bit off.
"Ah…" he said with a grin. "You can call me those names in private, lover. For now, use my given name. After all, secret's out, isn't it?"
"What are you on about, Malfoy?" Harry harshly asked. "You know what? Never mind. Just get lost!"
"Go on, then," Draco said, ignoring Harry. "Tell them, Hermione. Tell them why you come down to the dungeons every day and don't leave until late into the night… Tell them what it is I want them to know. Tell them whose bed you've been sleeping in."
Ron's face lost all color and then it returned with a vengeance. "YOU LIAR!" he yelled, launching himself at Draco, "YOU FILTHY, DISGUSTING, LYING SON OF A—"
"NO!!!" Hermione threw herself in front of Ron before he could reach Draco, making Draco's eyes widen in surprise.
Ron stopped, looking a bit bewildered himself. "He's lying, Hermione. You can't let him say such things about you, as if you were a-a…"
"He's not lying," Hermione choked out. Technically he wasn't. He was ordering her to do the lying for him. Say what I want to hear. She wished there was some way to fool the bracelet into thinking that she didn't understand what he wanted from her. "It's the truth. M-M… Draco and I are… We're…" Her voice trailed off and she couldn't complete the sentence. She didn't have to.
Three young men were staring at her. One with thinly veiled triumph on his face, another with stunned shock, and the third looked as if his entire world had just crumbled to dust.
"Him?" Ron whispered. "You're with… him? You're letting him…" He swallowed convulsively. "He doesn't even care about you," he mumbled. "Do you really love him?"
Hermione couldn't stand the pain in his eyes and the unspoken question: Then what about me? She looked away. He would never forgive this betrayal, she was sure of it. She rapidly blinked away tears.
"Love?" Draco snorted. "I wouldn't call it that, Weasel. After all, she's really just a Mudblood, isn't she?"
Both Harry and Ron launched at him at that, but Hermione was faster, jumping in the way again, accidentally knocking Draco into the wall in her efforts to avoid violence, making him grunt as his head painfully hit the bricks.
"Move, Hermione," Harry ground out. "He's got to pay for that."
Hermione shook her head and slowly took her wand out, brandishing it at the two people she never thought she'd hold at wand-point. "I can't allow that," she said. "No violence. Please. You can't hurt him." She swallowed, desperately fighting the tears that kept wanting to come.
"You mean to say," Ron quietly asked, "that you really choose to be with someone who will talk about you like that and you will raise your wand at me – us – in his defense?"
"Looks like it, mate," Draco said, feeling more than a little confused himself, but not letting it show. Instead he just smirked at the redheaded Gryffindor.
"Shut up!" Hermione yelled at Draco. "You just… shut UP! You got what you wanted, didn't you? Isn't that enough?" She furiously wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Come on," Harry said, putting his hand on Ron's shoulder. "There's nothing else for us here."
Ron nodded and together the two of them left. Hermione stayed until they were gone and then, without a second glance at Draco, she ran in the opposite direction.
Draco somehow thought he'd feel better about separating Granger from her friends. Not that he was feeling guilty or anything, because he most definitely wasn't. This nagging feeling wasn't guilt. He just didn't understand what had happened, that was all. Why had Granger been so adamant that Potter and Weasley didn't tear into him? It didn't really make sense. It had made the whole thing worse for her than it had to be. Maybe she had thought that she had to, or maybe she had thought he'd be nicer to her if she did it, but in both cases she was wrong. She would find that out soon enough.
It wasn't to be nice that he'd then proceeded to let her off that afternoon. He'd simply known that he would not been able to concentrate with a sniffling female in the room, and he had this extra essay for Transfiguration that he needed to do well on in order to be allowed to take his NEWTs.
However, it wasn't just when she was in the room that she was distracting him. He could feel her despair. He really wished that there was a way to turn the ring off; knowing these things became a burden after a while. Ultimately, he had to take the ring off in order to concentrate on his essay, but now even that felt… strange. He felt like he'd forgotten something, as if something was missing, and he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He felt empty.
He was, in short, going insane.
Draco started as his door flew open.
"What the…?" he mumbled as he saw Granger standing there. He glanced at his clock. It was still only noon and she wasn't due until four. He glanced at where his ring lay on the desk; he hadn't put it on since yesterday after the incident with her friends. "I didn't summon you," he said with a frown. "What the Hell are you doing here? Go away!"
She snorted and dumped a book in front of him, right in the middle of the parchment that he was writing on.
"Oi! Would you watch it?" he growled, shoving the book aside and scowling at the smeared ink.
She pushed the book back in front of him. "What's this?" she growled right back at him. "You owe me some answers! It's the least you can do!"
Draco scowled some more, but Hermione was clearly unimpressed, so he decided to see what had her feeling suicidal.
"It's a picture of my great great grandmother," he said. "I'm touched by your interest. Could you leave now?" He moved the book slightly to get the ring, but found it gone. She must have pushed it a bit and now he had to look for it, which he couldn't do without her realizing that he wasn't wearing it. Grand, no easy way to get rid of her.
Hermione pointed to the stately lady's wrist, where an unmistakable bracelet was residing. "I knew there was something you weren't telling me when…" She paused. "Oh, damn you and all your freaking rules! Somebody went ballistic after seeing me wear this."
Draco pretended nothing was amiss, when in reality nothing he'd ever said held any power over her as long as he didn't wear the ring. "You can talk about Pansy," he said. "Where did you find this, anyway?"
"The library, of course," she said. "Why is your great great grandmother wearing an enslaving device? Is it really that hard for Malfoys to get women to marry them?"
"If I tell you, will you go away?" Draco asked.
Hermione nodded.
"It's not an enslaving device," he said. "It's…" He winced slightly. "It was designed for the Malfoy wives."
"WHAT?" Hermione all but shrieked.
"Actually, if you think about it, there are a lot of women who would gladly wear it, who would even be honored to wear it… You're pretty ungrateful, you know."
"Idiot," she hissed. "And any woman who would willingly wear this is an idiot as well!"
"Hey, you just insulted every single witch in my family!"
"And Pansy," Hermione pointed out with a smirk.
"Look, you clearly don't understand…"
"I do understand!" she ground out. "Malfoy men are obsessed with controlling everything around them, including their wives, who obviously can't be allowed independent thought or action. And some women don't mind this as long as they have rich husbands, so in your mind that makes it ok."
"You don't understand," he growled. "Marriages have often been arranged, and when you manage millions of galleons and important Ministry affairs, you need to know that you can trust your wife. I've never heard about anyone wearing it for more than a year before their husband allowed them to take it off, but often they kept it on willingly even after that. And not everyone has worn it; I don't think anybody has used it for a hundred years."
"Can you read my mind with it on?" she asked. "You can, can't you!? Talk about violation…"
He blinked. "Of course I can't read your mind! What the Hell is this?" He sneered at her. "I told you more than I have to, so now, scoot!"
Hermione crossed her arms and looked down her nose at him. "I guess the name Malfoy is really earned, isn't it? Bad Faith, it's earned by the lot of you."
"Is that so?" he asked. "Well, isn't that just open-minded of you, to judge me by the name I was born to? But what else could I expect from someone who was born to the name of peasant, hm, Granger?" He stood, slammed her book shut and shoved it roughly at her. "Don't come back at four, I don't have time to babysit today. Perhaps you could go not socialize with your friends." He unceremoniously pushed her out the door and slammed it in her face.
Darn me for doing chapters where it's hard to quote something without giving too much away...
"Hermione, can I talk to you for a second?"
The last class was out and Hermione had been slowly making her way towards the Gryffindor tower, when Ron intercepted her. She stared at him, unsure what to say.
"Or do you have somewhere to be?" he asked, his face falling.
"N-no," Hermione stammered. She didn't have to be anywhere for a couple of hours. "I'm free."