Happy Friday everyone! I know there has been a bit of a delay in getting this chapter up, so hopefully this is a nice weekend treat! As a bit of a life update, I'm about halfway through a cross-country trek right now as part of a big life transition. I will be starting graduate school in a few weeks, and while this is a very exciting new adventure it has been hard to set aside as much time to write as I would like. I really really really want to be consistent with updating this story, but I hope you all will understand if over the next couple of months there aren't as many new chapters as you all deserve.
So many readers reviewed my last chapter, I'm so excited to set a new record! Hearing from you guys definitely keeps me motivated, and I've even been known to answer a few questions here and there if it doesn't spoil the story ;) Thank you to: 666Spektor, Acupples, AlyssaWonderland, arururur, beaflower114, Blu3zClu3z, bulldoglover01, cmtaylor531, coffee-addicted, dashwhoiam, Elsa007, I love new stories, ImAOLicitySuperFan, Irmorena, KangBoRam, kimbclar, lovetodance1992, pgoodrichboggs, roon0, sasukessweetheart, shiva-hime, Sunset Whispers, xzoexangelx and 4 Guests!
Now, I can't really decide if a lot happens in this chapter or if nothing happens. I'll let you be the judges, let me know what you think!
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Hermione couldn't remember dreading a Monday morning even half as much as she found herself dreading this particular one.
The portrait-hole remained frozen in place, half-open from where Draco had left it five minutes before and offering a small glimpse at the fourth floor hallway beyond. Had anyone happened to walk by, they would have caught sight of Hermione standing rooted in place and staring at the door with all her might; whether she was willing it to swing open or slam shut was not immediately apparent, even to the girl in question. She looked like the quintessential Head Girl that morning—uniform clean and firmly pressed, hair tamed and in a loose plait, shoes polished and bag neatly organized. Unfortunately, her half-panicked eyes and colorless cheeks ruined the effect entirely.
Draco had left for breakfast looking equally as polished, though to be fair that was a rather common occurrence where the Head Boy was concerned. He had tried unsuccessfully to coax her into walking down with him, making a 'strength in numbers' argument, but she wouldn't be budged.
They had both been so startled the day before no the lake when they heard the camera go off, but while Draco's natural reaction had been anger, Hermione's response proved much more effective. Years of harassment at the hands of the Wizarding media had taught her a trick or two, and within seconds of spotting the two Ravenclaws she had picked up her wand and cast a film-erasing charm. Such a spell was generally useless against the paparazzi, they tended to come prepared with counter-charmed equipment, but luckily the students had no such protections in place. She had suffered a brief moment of regret knowing that it was possible that her spell had destroyed their camera; in all likelihood they had not brought the device out with the intention to spy… In the end, she knew she hadn't really had a choice. Even disregarding how the student body would have reacted, she knew that the Hogwarts staff would look less-than kindly on finding a photo of the Head students laying practically on top of one another in the middle of the day on school grounds.
Hermione ducked her head in shame at just the thought of her professors seeing something like that. What had gotten into her that she had been so brazen and careless in broad daylight? The situation was bad enough even without the photographic proof. Though they had strategically made a quick escape to their dorm after being caught, Blaise had shown up not an hour later with news that the rumor had exploded over the entire school. Feeling fed up with the drama that had become the defining feature of her seventh year, Hermione had retreated to her room, deciding that if she held onto Crookshanks and wrapped herself in enough blankets the outside world might, in fact, cease to exist entirely.
That, unfortunately, proved to be wishful thinking, and there she was still standing there staring at the common room door ten minutes after Draco had left. Knowing she had to act now before she lost her nerve entirely, she scooped up her bag and made a beeline for the hall, walking quickly and with her head down. She knew that Draco and Blaise would have told her to walk slowly, head up and with perfect posture, not allow her classmates to see that she was at all affected. Though her hypothetical versions of them may have had a point, she felt too miserable with anticipation to bother with the pretense.
The dining hall was loud and bustling, very typical for a Monday morning, and Hermione looked around quickly for any sign of Neville or Luna. The students caught sight of her almost immediately, their whispers, gestures, and pointed stares was possibly the least subtle thing she had witnessed to date. With increasing desperation, she noted that the only remaining space at the Gryffindor table was directly next to a group of seventh and sixth years, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Lavender amongst them, no Neville in sight. Knowing that she might as well accept her fate and get it over with, she made her way steadily to the empty seat and sat down with as much confidence as she could muster.
If there was an upside, it was that at least her back was facing away from the rest of the student body. She quickly poured herself a goblet of pumpkin juice before grabbing a small scoop of eggs and a piece of toast, silently counting down the minutes in her head until she could leave for class. She made it a good five minutes before her classmates decided to engage.
"Are you insane, Hermione?" Parvati was the first to crack. "Carrying on with a Slytherin, and Malfoy no less." To Hermione's surprise she sounded more intrigued than outright disapproving, as though she was still trying to wrap her head around the shock of the news.
"Perhaps she's just trying to get attention," Lavender tossed in cruelly. "Won't last though. I'll bet anyone five galleons that he dumps her before the end of the week, won't take him long to figure out what a fantastic prude she is."
The derisive sneer on the blonde girl's face was enough to make Hermione's blood boil. She had half a mind to share with the entire table just how un-prudish Lavender herself's behavior had been that summer, but she drowned the impulse with a gulp of pumpkin juice instead. She didn't want to be the kind of person who sank to the level of her tormenters.
"I don't know," Louisa, a sixth year, piped up. "Snogging out in the open like that, sounds like a slag move to me. And here I was thinking Hufflepuff had the biggest sluts!" This earned a round of chuckles from her classmates, causing Hermione's cheeks to burn red in anger.
"No way, she's totally frigid," Lavender insisted. "Isn't that right, Ron?"
Hermione looked up from her plate just enough to meet Ron's eyes, having no doubt as to what his opinion would be. He seemed to hesitate for just a moment, glancing quickly over at Harry who seemed, oddly, to be paying no attention whatsoever, before turning back.
"She's a total lost cause," he agreed, not quite meeting her eyes this time. "Malfoy's the unluckiest bastard in this school by far."
Deciding that she had had enough of their taunts Hermione grabbed her bag and made to stand up, only to bump into the boy in question. Draco had apparently just walked over from the Slytherin table and, looking completely unaffected, held out a hand in an silent offer to take her bag. She smiled in gratitude at the rescue, but before she could open her mouth to say anything she felt a hand come down around her waist and in surprise found herself turning into the arms of one Blaise Zabini.
She held herself stiffly, unsure what his game might be but feeling very much on display in the dining hall full of students and staff. He was looking at her with the most seductive expression she had ever seen on any person's face, and with a sinking feeling she realized what he was about to do.
"Thanks for last night, Princess," he whispered provocatively, loud enough to be heard by both surrounding tables. "Best night of my life." Before she could blink he had swooped down and captured her lips with his own, pulling her into a highly inappropriate kiss and drowning out her squeak of surprise.
She was too shocked to react, and when he pulled away a few seconds later with a wink and grin still in place, all she could do was blink stupidly at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. The hall was now completely silent, and Hermione wondered if perhaps she'd had a stroke. She even hoped for a minute that she had. She finally managed to turn back to look at Draco, wondering what his response would be to his friend's antics, but instead of being upset he simply rolled his eyes and placed a loose arm around her shoulder.
"We should get to class," he stated simply, and, still in disbelief, she allowed herself to be led out of the still speechless dining hall, Blaise following smoothly behind.
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Hermione didn't speak to Blaise for three days. What had started as simple, if juicy, gossip had morphed into outrageous speculation, each rumor more lurid than the last. Apparently, Colin Creevy had been present in the hospital wing on the day that Hermione first let the boys accompany her to a treatment session and he he had overheard the sound of her and Blaise's voices. It seemed that enough students knew of the risqué history of those side rooms and soon the entire school was whispering about the presumed love child she was carrying.
"They were calling you a prude, I was just defending your honor!" he had tried to reason with her.
"So it's better that they think I'm so loose that I'm sleeping with the both of you?!" Needless to say, Blaise would not be winning that argument with her anytime soon.
Draco, shrewd man that he was, kept well out of their argument. This, too, annoyed Hermione, though she was insightful enough to admit that some of her irritation came from the fact that he was coming under much less fire than she was. Unlike the Gryffindors, the Slytherins seemed much less inclined to turn on their own and much more dismissive of the gossip. They seemed mostly unbothered by the supposed-scandal, which, in combination with Draco's general emotionless demeanor, meant that he was largely left alone.
She managed to forgive him a bit when, on Tuesday morning, he had surprised her in their common room by showing her a new spell he had researched the night before. It was essentially the opposite of the Muffliato charm and managed to reduce all conversations outside of her immediate vicinity to indistinct chatter. It gave her enough of a buffer to successfully tune out the rumors and keep her sanity. Of course this also meant that it was now very difficult to get her attention, which was how she ended up unreasonably startled when Luna and Neville tried to get her attention in the library that Thursday afternoon.
"Sorry Hermione, didn't mean to scare you!" Neville apologized, settling down across from her with a sheepish grin.
"No, my fault," she croaked out, struggling to emerge from her hyper-focused study mindset. "I was using a spell to block out extraneous noise because, well, you know…" she trailed off lamely.
"Because the entire student body is talking about your sordid affair with two of the hottest boys in the school?" Luna chimed in serenely, sitting down across from her and pulling out her own books.
"Like I said," Hermione groused. "You know."
"I'm really sorry about what people are saying," Neville offered as he too took a seat. He seemed sincere if a bit out of his element. "They're totally out of line to be talking about you like that!" His cheeks were tinged pink with his anger, and Hermione smiled to finally find an ally who was not also a direct contributor to the mess she was in.
"Actually," Luna cut in, "a lot of the girls in my year are jealous."
"You know it's not true, right?" Hermione asked urgently, searching their faces. "Blaise was just being an arse. We're friends, nothing more."
"So you aren't dating Draco?"
"Well," she hedged, blushing, "I'm not not—hanging out—or, well, associating, with Draco…"
"That was lovely, Princess, truly poetic," she jumped for the second time that afternoon, turning to see Blaise, Draco, and, surprisingly, Pansy, arrive at their shared table.
"So," Draco drawled teasingly, "we're associating now, are we, Granger?" Hermione cringed in mortification. She planned to ignore Blaise on principle, but she felt embarrassed to be caught discussing their relationship by Draco himself, and Pansy no less. He had taken the seat next to her, bumping her leg reassuringly with his to let her know he didn't mean anything by it. Luna grinned knowingly while Pansy simply rolled her eyes.
"Gum, anyone?" Pansy asked, holding up a tin of Drooble's. The Slytherins always had an air of aloofness and aristocratic surety about them that made even this odd grouping somehow work.
"Are you really still not talking to me?" Blaise whined, pouting when Hermione refused to acknowledge the tin of gum he tried to pass her.
"You should join forces with Derrick," Pansy offered. "He's still giving this idiot the cold shoulder, too." Hermione allowed herself a bit of a spiteful smile, she had forgotten that the two had recently started dating.
"Don't encourage her," Blaise frowned, opening his textbook in defeat. "It's not my fault the whole school's full of imbeciles. He'll come around."
"That was quite the passionate kiss you two shared," Luna stated bluntly while Neville cringed at his girlfriend's tactless comment.
"It really was," Draco growled softly beside her, causing a small flutter to surge through her chest.
"I heard that you have both boys under a powerful love potion and they're basically your slaves," Pansy stated, staring in disinterest at her fingernails. This earned a pair of scoffs from the boys in question. Clearly, they didn't approve of the idea.
"I heard that you're a succubus preying on the male students one at a time," Luna piped in helpfully and way too cheerfully.
"I heard that you're using me to cheat on Drakey here, and you don't know who the baby's father is." She scowled at Blaise.
"Can I just interject to say that there is, unequivocally—No. Baby." She was thoroughly ignored.
"Personally, with that hair," Pansy gestured vaguely towards the Gryffindor's messy curls, "you'd be better off with Blaise. He has some natural curls already so the kid might look half-decent."
"Our kid would be bloody gorgeous!" Blaise insisted confidently, seeming thoroughly unconcerned by the glares Hermione was throwing him. "With my cheek bones and her eyes the kid would be a model for sure!" Hermione would have been flattered if she wasn't so busy planning his death.
"I heard that it's actually Draco and Blaise who are having the affair, and Hermione is just carrying their baby for them after conceiving using a dark magic potion." Hermione was not the only one to turn to Neville in shock, this one might take the cake. She hated to admit that she was a bit perturbed, but there was a tiny, vain part of herself that felt hurt that even after the display in the dining hall some people still didn't think she was desirable enough to merit more than broodmare status.
"Interesting…" Blaise leered suggestively at Draco.
"Don't even think about it, B," Draco smirked easily in return. "If you go and kiss me as well, Derrick will dump your sorry arse for sure." This earned a round of laughter and subsequently the conversation drifted to other topics.
By some miracle, they had decided last week to cancel this week's Prefect's meeting so when Hermione followed the small group out of the library an hour later she was looking forward to a quick dinner followed by some resumed studying in her room. Unfortunately, before they could even make it to the staircase Draco's hand came up to grab her arm, gently pulling her to a stop.
"We'll catch up with you guys later," he called to their friends' retreating forms, giving Blaise a quick nod before guiding her in the opposite direction down the hall.
"Mind sharing with the rest of us?" she huffed, following his lead in confusion. He stopped and turned to her, a hint of regret in his eyes that sent her anxiety sky-rocketing.
"McGonagall asked to see us," he admitted cautiously. "I didn't want to tell you before and watch you get all worked up."
She gulped, this couldn't be good news. Other than Madam Pomfrey, who was turning out to be quite the gossip, none of the professors had said a thing to her about Monday's incident but really, it was only a matter of time.
"Okay," she breathed out shakily, tightening her hold on the strap of her bag and gathering her courage. "Is she expecting us now?"
"Pretty much. We better hurry though," he stated seriously, placing a hand on her back to guide her forward. "If people see us alone in the hallway together they won't be able to figure out whether it's me or Blaise you're cheating on and then their tiny heads might explode from the effort."
Though she insisted it was too soon to joke about, she secretly appreciated his attempt to distract her and followed dutifully to her Head of House's office.
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McGonagall was waiting for them when they arrived and, to her discomfort, so was Professor Snape. Draco, though always respectful these days, straightened up notably upon seeing his Head of House and gave Snape a solemn nod.
"Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, how good of you to join us." Straight to the point, McGonagall gestured to the two open seats in front of her desk, while Snape remained standing off to the side. "Surely you are aware of why I've asked to speak with you both today."
While Hermione often thought that her professor was underrated in her kindness and compassion, in this moment she was terrified. "I—I believe so, Professor," she managed, courageously managing to avoid dropping her gaze. Draco remained silent.
"The uproar that the two of you and Mr. Zabini have caused this past week is unacceptable. It has been a distraction in classes and immensely unbecoming of two Head students."
"With all due respect, Professor," Draco cut in, politely but firmly, "while Blaise's actions in the dining hall were ill-advised, his intentions were to protect Ms. Granger from some very undeserved verbal attacks. Surely you aren't suggesting that we be held responsible for his actions, or for the over-active imaginations and prejudices of the entire student body?"
"I am suggesting, Mr. Malfoy," she continued, unmoved, "that it is not too much to expect that the Head students refrain from engaging in amorous activities in broad daylight on school grounds. And on school property, no less. Or perhaps you'd like to convince me that this report has also been taken out of context?" She raised a single, pointed eyebrow and Hermione finally dropped her head in shame.
"We're incredibly sorry, Professor," she apologized, increasingly sure that they would both be removed as Head students. "It was extremely bad judgement on our parts, and we regret that the student body has reacted so strongly." More like they're acting like a bunch of rotten brats she thought to herself bitterly, biting her tongue to keep herself in check.
"That is appreciated, Ms. Granger, and ultimately it is no business of the staff's whether you, Mr. Malfoy, and Mr. Zabini are engaged in a consensual, romantic relationship, but—"
"If I may, Minerva," Snape cut in, "it is my suspicion that Mr. Zabini was, as indicated earlier, simply trying to make a point. Ms. Granger doesn't strike me as his type," he finished drily, giving Hermione a pointed once-over.
"Right," McGonagall agreed, a hint of understanding coming into her eyes. "Well, I have no desire to scold you further for a simple case of teenage hormones, but let me assure you that from this moment forward I expect nothing less than the highest levels of decorum, discretion, and maturity from our Head students. Is that clear?"
Hermione and Draco both nodded in agreement.
"In that case you're dismissed, I wish you both a pleasant evening."
She couldn't believe that they were escaping that easily and wasted no time in thanking both professors, apologizing once again, and heading for the door. Draco, however, remained behind.
"Could I have a quick word, professors?" Hermione looked at him in question but his expression gave nothing away and she realized that, being now several paces towards the door, it would be too awkward of her to stay. More than a little curious, she waited in the hall for a minute before deciding that she might as well head back to their dorm instead of lingering rather obviously outside of McGonagall's office.
She started off down the passageway, taking the long way back to the fourth floor in the hopes of avoiding any students returning from dinner. After that meeting, she figured she had sufficiently earned the right to ask the house elves to bring up dinner. Though it was not yet 7 the castle was dark and drafty, the Winter weather sneaking in through the old stonework and creating a chill away from the warm fireplaces of the common rooms.
She followed a seldom-used staircase down to the fourth floor and began making her way towards her dorm, located on the opposite side of the castle. She jumped slightly, hearing a noise coming from one of the disused classrooms to her left, and was surprised when the door opened and Harry came stumbling out and into the hall. She froze. The two hadn't been alone together since their confrontation by the lake nearly a month and half ago, and she wasn't exactly sure what to expect. He, on the other hand, seemed not to see her and began slowly walking down the hall in the same direction she had been going.
"H-Harry?" she called out tentatively. She was surprised that he hadn't seen her, a hint of worry creeping into her voice at his lack of awareness of his surroundings.
"Hermione?" he turned around jerkily, meeting her stare with wide, watery eyes. He stared at her silently for a beat too long. "What are you doing here?" His eyes darted around the corridor and she found herself doing the same, feeling a tad paranoid.
"I'm on my way back to my room," she began, cautiously. "You?"
"Dinner." He seemed to be having a hard time meeting her gaze but he remained standing in the hall, apparently in no rush to move off. They stood there, neither one saying a thing, while Hermione grew increasingly alarmed at the odd behavior of her friend.
"Well," she finally said, "I'll just continue on my way then…" She went to edge past him but to her surprise he turned and matched her pace, shuffling stiffly down the dim hallway. Now up close, she could see a few beads of sweat dotting his forehead and the rather rumpled condition of his robes. His skin was sallow and combined with the watery eyes, she frankly thought he looked rather awful compared to his usual boyish good looks.
"Are you okay, Harry?" she asked softly, holding her breath so as not to scare him off. His appearance was concerning, not to mention his relative indifference in face of the pair's painfully broken friendship. Did he suddenly have no comments to share on the state of her relationship with the Slytherins? He had been concerned enough to risk approaching her just a few weeks ago, and now, nothing.
He didn't answer her at first, but after a few seconds he slowed and came to a stop, still facing forward. "Are you happy, Hermione?"
She felt a dark lance of sadness rush through her chest, though for once she wasn't thinking about her own sorry plight. Something was seriously wrong with her former best friend, and they had become so estranged that she had no idea what was going on with him. She struggled to formulate the correct response, unsure why he was asking or what to say given the circumstances. It felt like the stakes were very high. With a jolt she felt him touch her, gently pressing the tips of two clammy fingers against the center of her palm in a familiar gesture the pair had developed over years of friendship.
Hermione knew that she needed to say something, but she felt choked by the pressure and their recent history, instead standing still as a statue and staring at the small point where their hands connected.
She didn't know how long she would have remained there frozen, but eventually Harry withdrew his hand and proceeded down the hall and out of sight, leaving her with a deep chill that had nothing to do with the time of year.
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When Hermione finally made it back to her dorm she found Draco sitting on the couches, waiting for her.
"Where'd you get off to?" He asked, eyeing her with a bit of curiosity.
"I might ask the same," she replied, giving him a look. She had decided to keep her strange encounter with Harry to herself, for the time being, feeling a mixture of protection and uncertainty about what she should do, what she had seen. She felt a wave of weariness crash over her all of a sudden, a byproduct of her immensely stressful week. She dropped her bag carelessly on the floor and moved over to pick up Crookshanks from his spot next to Draco, ignoring the cat's grumble as she stole his preferred spot.
She sighed, heavily. She had temporarily forgotten about their meeting with Professor McGonagall, but sitting there next to Draco brought all those feelings of humiliation and shame rushing back. She cringed at the memories of her teachers discussing their assumed romantic relationship. Sighing, she flopped her head against the back of the couch, closing her eyes and seriously considering falling asleep then and there. It was much easier to ignore the complexities of her life while asleep.
To her surprise, Draco reached out and hooked an arm around her shoulder, pulling her firmly down until she found herself neatly snuggled against his side, her head resting against his chest. Despite their recent intimacy, Draco had always been more restrained in his casual touches, especially compared to Blaise's overtly tactile nature. Though, as he ran a hand comfortingly along her side and up into her hair, this didn't feel like a particularly casual embrace. She relaxed into his hold, reveling in the soothing rhythm of his hand as he continued his calm strokes against her side.
"I had to get permission for something," Draco stated, his voice rumbling against her ear. It took her a few seconds to realize that he was replying to her earlier unasked question.
"Hmmm?" She had closed her eyes again by this point, deciding that her current position made sleep an even more tempting possibility.
"I got permission from Snape and Mcgonagall to leave school grounds on Saturday."
"Oh?" This caused her to perk up a bit, pushing against his side so she could sit up a bit and see his face. "Are you going somewhere?"
"Actually, we're going somewhere," he replied matter of factly, his easy expression unchanged. She searched his face intently, Slytherins were always up to something.
"This is about Blaise's list again, isn't it?" she accused, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.
"A bit paranoid, don't you think?" He raised a single eyebrow in challenge. "I just figured we could both use a little break from the idiots around here."
She continued to stare at him, unconvinced. "I don't trust you."
"You probably shouldn't," he smirked, giving her a wink. She attempted to say something more but he cut her off, pulling her down once again as he shifted, bringing his body to lay more fully on the couch. She pretended to grumble but was secretly pleased, the feeling of being snuggled against him enough to make up for some of the recent drama. Though her hormones were screaming at her to make a move, her exhausted brain was content in enjoying the rhythmic motion of his chest and the warmth of his body against hers. They lay there in silence for many minutes, Hermione drowsily attempting to stay awake while Draco remained lost in his thoughts.
"Rough week, huh?" he asked finally, tickling her curls with his breath where they were piled near his shoulder.
"I don't know," she teased, running a playful finger up his ribs. "It wasn't all bad. Blaise is a pretty good kisser." She tilted her head back to meet his gaze, grinning in impish satisfaction at the way his hand tightened against her side.
"Lucky girl," he breathed out roughly, staring down into her eyes. "Allow me to make it even better."
He dragged his hand slowly up her back and into her hair, pulling her into an aggressive kiss against his firm mouth. A shiver shot down her spine and caused her toes to curl. He shifted and pulled her until she was laying fully on top of him, his lips continuing to move roughly against hers, before suddenly moving and flipping her underneath him. Before she could register it he was pulling away, giving her an appraising look as he stood staring down at her flushed and frustrated form.
"Clear your schedule for Saturday, Granger." She frowned in indignation as he smugly picked up her cat and disappeared up the stairs and into his room.