Chapter 2
Hermione sat in her room the next week, her mind far from the world for a moment while she stared out of her window.
The past two week had been a clash of insults, scoffs, and angry glances, not to mention Harry's incessant questions about everything having to do with Malfoy. She had been surprised when he didn't ask her if she'd documented all his morning meals, as he'd begged her to tell him if he was doing anything strange at night. The thing was, Malfoy did act strangely, not that she'd feed Harry obsession with that tidbit of information. The Malfoy heir left their common room at all hours of the night and she had consistently heard their portrait door close at 3, 4, even 5am.
None of her business, she had kept telling herself, none of her business.
He was probably going down to the Slytherin dungeons to shag Pansy Parkinson or whatever perfect pureblood girl he was with now. She just worried that Harry was going to check his map at an odd hour of the night to find Malfoy not where he was supposed to be.
She got up, stretching her legs and putting on a pair of trousers and a black turtleneck sweater before tying back her hair and walking out of her room. It was early in the morning and she was surprised when she spotted Malfoy on the couch, sporting black and green silk pajama's. Which was, a truly strange sight if she was being honest. He had obviously not known she would walk in or surely he would have gotten dressed in proper clothes, but Malfoy wasn't the type to change because it might make someone else feel uncomfortable.
He was reading a book and sitting rather lazily there, she had yet to see him so relaxed. Though the boy, for whatever reason was looking more and more exhausted by the day. She wondered if it had something to do with his father being in Azkaban.
She made her way over to the Kitchenette, pulling out a french press she had conjured when she arrived. The beans she had got from the Hogwarts kitchen were already ground, so she cast a quick spell to heat up the water and pour them both into the press and stir. After a couple minute she pressed down and smelled the wonderful aroma that was coffee. It seemed Malfoy had also smelled it, because he was now watching her pour the dark liquid into a mug.
"What is that?" Malfoy demanded. Hermione looked up from the pot to see Malfoy leaning over the side of the sofa, a bored but curious look on his features.
"Coffee," She answered, blowing on the steaming cup, "Never heard of coffee?" Hermione held in a smile, she had an idea.
"No,"
"Course you haven't," She rolled her eyes, "Don't tell me you want to try it?"
"Would that upset you?" He asked her,
"It would if you're drinking from the coffee I just made."
"Alright, then yes I would." He stalked towards her, and she had to hide the smirk as he defiantly grabbed the French press and poured a cup of his own. He took a sip and the look on his face was priceless. Like watching a baby try a lemon for the first time. His features contorted and she could tell he was trying not to spit it out.
"It's an adult drink," She commented, "Not for children. It's got caffeine." He took another sip as if to say, 'I'm an adult,' And she almost broke out laughing as he tried to hide how much he wasn't enjoying it. "You don't have to drink it, it's too advanced for some people pallet's I'm sure. Too... sophisticate." She knew that if anything calling him unsophisticated would probably do the most. I mean wasn't the whole pureblood mantra; 'I'm fancier then everyone else,'
"I happen to thoroughly enjoy this coo-fay," He said, pronouncing the word completely wrong. She didn't correct him.
"Would you like me to make you a cup tomorrow?" She asked him, seeing his eyes fall, "If you like it so much..."
"Do what you want Granger," He snapped, "I don't care either way," Before turning dramatically and walking back into his room. If there was one thing that she was going to have fun with while living with the prat, it would be manipulating him everyday into drinking coffee. And now she knew he didn't like it? She would make the strongest batches possible. Maybe she should tell Harry that he doesn't like coffee the next time he asked her if the ferret was doing anything suspicious.
It was a Saturday, and Hermione had told Harry and Ron to meet her in the Great hall for breakfast. She had gotten there early as per usual and was currently having a piece of toast. Her eyes wandered over to the Slytherin table, watching it since she could only do so without being caught by Malfoy when the Slytherin wasn't there.
This morning was rare. Usually, there was a lot of childish bickering that she'd admit she took part in as well. She didn't have class today, so she thought she'd do some reading in the library, maybe go for a walk around the grounds, read by the lake.
Hermione rarely got any time to herself she had come to find. Being Head girl meant that she had to have meetings every Monday and Thursday. Along with solving any problem given to her. On top of studying and trying to have some social life with her friends. Made Hermione exhausted at the end of the day.
She watched the door before spotting the black and red-haired duo enter. Harry sat down across from her and Ron beside, both continuing their conversation as they approached.
"I told you, Harpies crush the Appleby Arrows," Harry told Ron.
"Well, they shouldn't have, if not for that cheating seeker of theirs!"
"She didn't cheat. You're just a sore loser."
"Whatever." Hermione watched as the two bickered, wondering if she was ever going to be noticed or even acknowledged. She waited until they had stopped talking. Hermione might have gotten upset in her earlier years but now was hardly annoyed. Hermione felt she had grown up much over the last summer. After Ron had broken up with Lavender, she had begun to feel less and less like a third party to the two boys.
Hermione had felt much more secure about herself as of late. She had grown into her face and was confident as it regarded her body. But it was more than that. Over the summer, she had realized that she was pretty invaluable, and it showed.
"Hello Hermione," She said sweetly, "how are you today? Good morning Hermione." She said, trying to get the boy's attention. Ron smiled at her.
"Hello Hermione," he said.
"How are you doing today?" Harry smirked,
"Good morning Hermione," They said together, bursting into laughter.
"Haha," She smiled, "Now let's talk about something other than Quidditch, hmm?" And Hermione almost wished she hadn't said it. Harry was getting this: Let's talk about Malfoy look about him that made Hermione recoil.
"Now that you mention it," Harry said, "I wanted to ask you a question." And it began, the extraordinarily annoying part of her day where Harry Potter, the dubbed chosen one, would bombard his friend with talk of Draco Malfoy.
"Harry, I swear if it's about Malfoy, I just might scream." She pleaded.
"It's not... ok it is, but please just let me ask this one question, and then I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day." Hermione sighed; she might strangle Malfoy while he slept so she wouldn't have to hear about him 24/7. Oh, but there was the problem that she couldn't get into his bedroom, maybe she could attack him in the living room.
"Fine. One question." She said through clenched teeth, hoping for something simple.
"Ok, would it be possible," Harry drawled, "And you can say no to this." Hermione didn't know she hadn't previously possessed the ability to say no but nodded nonetheless. "For you to spy on Malfoy?" Hermione gaped at him.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear you ask me to..." She dropped her voice to a whisper, "Spy on the Head boy." The audacity this boy had to ask her to do that. She would have thought that him unearthing nothing on Malfoy the previous year would have made him realize that maybe, just maybe, Draco Malfoy wasn't a deatheater.
"'mione," Harry said, "Please just before you say no-"
"Oh, don't you 'mione me." She snapped, "I have no desire to spy on Malfoy, so, therefore, I won't be." Hermione clutched her head in her hand. "Please, can we stop talking about that slimy ferret? It's bad enough I have to live with the git. Do you have to torture me so with bringing him up in everyday conversation?" She said. This was getting out of hand. It was one thing for Harry to stalk him on his map, another to follow him, more to call him a deatheater, but asking her to spy on him in his own home? That was going way too far.
She would never spy on anyone no matter who asked her if they were innocent. And while Malfoy by himself was far from innocent, he hadn't committed any crimes that she was aware of other then acting a little strange, in her mind that didn't warrant spying, it barely warranted a conversation. Harry had taken his suspicion and ran with it.
"Yeah," Harry sighed, "Let's talk about something else," They both looked at Ron.
"Oi, I don't have anything to say." The redhead held his hands up, "Except... I did hear that Greengrass and Zabini are dating."
"Daphne?" Hermione asked.
"No, her younger sister, Astoria." Ron said, popping a strawberry into his mouth before continuing, "It's quite a big deal with the Slytherins. If Lavender is right, that is. They might get engaged at the end of the year when she turns seventeen." Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She didn't think he still talked to Brown.
"You were talking to Lavender?" She asked him, and a strange silence broke out between them. Harry looked uncomfortable, but she didn't care, holding Ron's eyesight as she watched him chose the right words. Her eyes flickered over to the girl who was gossiping with Parvati, catching the girl's eye for a second. She didn't have anything against the girl. But that didn't mean she wanted her to get involved with Ron again.
"She's just a friend Hermione," Ron said, "You know I-" He stopped, remembering Harry was sitting right there. "Anyway, everyone thinks he's like his mother, except he's only in it for the hefty dowry."
"Dowery's are still a thing?" Hermione asked. She had thought those went away with carriages and corsets. "Isn't that, well, strange."
"Yeah," Ron said, "That's why it only happens with the rich Pureblood families, but yeah."
"That's right up there arranged marriages," Hermione said, appalled. Ron gave her a look. "No," She said, looking over to the table of snakes, "Really?"
"Sorry to be the one that tells you," Ron sighed, "But sometimes they can even be with cousins. Mum told me that Sirius and Narcissa were going to 'get engaged,' before Sirius ran away."
"No!" Hermione gasped.
On Sunday, Hermione and Ron were walking to the Gryffindor Dormitory when the Redhead stopped her, leading her into an alcove before she could protest.
"Listen, Hermione," he said, grabbing her hands in his own, "Yesterday had me thinking," Hermione stared at Ron, not yet daring to hope.
"Yes," She smiled "What is it?"
"Well, about our relationship," He said seriously. "Our friendship, everything in between." Hermione had been waiting for this moment. Her feelings for the ginger had always been obvious. So, she had waited for him to make the first move of their relationship. He looked nervous, his face slightly twinged red and his eyes only meeting her own every couple of seconds. "listen, we've been friends for so long-"
But a loud chirp tore her away from Ronald.
To an owl sitting in the window of the hallway that they were in.
Hermione pushed forward, excusing herself quietly from Ron as she recognized the owl. It was Dumbledores. Harry had gotten a couple of messages from him via the bird, and Hermione had always admired the large dark Nobel owl. It held out its leg to her, and she reached forward, grabbing a small piece of parchment from the bird and walking over to Ron so he could see her open it.
Dear Miss Hermione Granger,
Come to my office, please, and remember I'm a snug shrimp addict around Christmas.
-Dumbledore
"snug shrimp addict?" Ron asked, but Hermione knew what it meant.
"Well, it must be the password to his Office!" She said, excited to meet the fabled headmaster face to face for the first time. She had, of course, seen him before. He made appearances around the castle. But she had never had a conversation with the wizard besides the one in her third year with Harry when he told them to go back in time. She was curious. As Harry had informed her, he doesn't always make sense right away.
She wondered why he had to talk to her. Perhaps about her role as a head girl? Yes, that was probably it. Though, it said nothing about Malfoy being there. Hermione would have thought that if it was about Head duties both of them would be attending this meeting. She turned to Ron, her mind still going a million miles per hour.
"Ron, I have to go." She told him, "But let's talk tomorrow, ok?"
"Ok," Ron muttered, running a hand through his red hair,
"Oh, and don't tell Harry I'm meeting with Dumbledore," She added, "I want to tell him when I get back." Ron nodded as she turned her back and walked quickly down the hall, trying to remember where Dumbledore's office was.
When she found it, she straightened her back.
"snug shrimp addict," She said clearly. Nothing budged, "snug shrimp addict," She tried again. Why wasn't it working? What was she missing? She thought back to the letter, 'snug shrimp addict,' It had said. She pulled out the piece of parchment and stared at it hard, now that she thought about it, it was quite a strange password. And from what Harry had told them he liked to have the password be a sweet treat...
Could 'snug shrimp addict' be an Anagram? She looked at it again and noticed the word Christmas. She nocked the letters off the against the original password one at a time, c. h. r. i. s. t. m. a. s.! And she was left with-u. n. g. i. p. d. d. She needed food that was a seven-letter word that started with Christmas. cookies? No. Christmas... she looked at the paper again.
"Pudding!" She practically shouted, "Christmas Pudding!" And the door opened.
Inside, Dumbledore was smiling at his desk.
"I'd thought you'd appreciate that," He told her, "Your grades do not lie, miss Granger, not many people are smart enough to figure something like that out." Hermione smiled at the flattery.
"Thank you, sir," She returned, taking a seat at the desk across from him, "It was fun." The old man looked a bit different up close, his features seemed sharper, less friendly. Then Hermione noticed his hand.
It looked as though someone had burned it to a crisp yet she could see it was very much so still attached to his hand. Dumbledore seemed to follow her vision, laughing a little at the shock she had forgotten to hide on her face.
"Nasty things," He told her, a twinkle in his eye, "Cursed objects." He said this a way that Hermione knew that she wasn't supposed to tell anyone about this. His voice was calm, but he said it cautiously as if trying to convey it as a secret of sorts. She had a sneaky suspicion that there was more to it than just a cursed object.
"Why have you called me here today, Headmaster?" She asked him, her voice lower now, more controlled. She didn't know why, but something wasn't sitting right with her anymore. Maybe she was just uncomfortable because he was such a famous, prevalent man in Wizarding society. Maybe, it was because she had high expectations. Whatever it was, Hermione was on high alert.
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore tutted, a knowing smile on his old features, "So straight to the point. Right to business then?"
"I'm not big on pleasantries." She admitted, "Never been very good at them." He stroked his beard slightly, eyeing her more carefully now.
"I think pleasantries say a lot about a person." Dumbledore said, "What one deems charming enough to use as a preview for what is to come."
"I can find them..." Hermione didn't like the way he said that, "...Disingenuous."
"Perhaps you're right," Dumbledore said, "but I like to think the first real glimpse of a person. While it may not be the most genuine article, is the person they wish to present as. And isn't that more telling?" Hermione studied him.
"I don't tend to psychoanalyze the people I converse with. Make's them trusting me even harder." She said. "Why have you asked me here? Headmaster."
"How is living with Mr. Malfoy?"
And there it was.
She had known about Harry's obsession but didn't think a Headmaster would stoop so low to ask her personally about Malfoy. Why did everybody care about Malfoy? He was just your everyday, regular, Ferret. She stared pointedly at her headmaster, trying to not betray herself as she thought of the best way to answer this question. It was low of him to come to her with this. And made her wonder, is this why he made Malfoy the Head boy? So that she could watch and report to him?
"It's fine, besides the occasional arguments," She answered. She thought it was perfect, giving just enough to sound realistic. While also giving the least amount possible.
"Yes, I'm sure those must be quite aggravating," He said, "I hope you aren't finding being Head girl with him too challenging." Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"Nothing I can't handle,"
"I'm sure you're doing wonderfully. I see you're keeping up with school as well." Hermione nodded, "Do you and Mr. Malfoy study together?" What exactly was he implying.
"No." She answered pointedly.
"Never?"
"Not once."
"Do you notice anything strange?" He asked her, "Does Malfoy leave your common room at odd hours? Are you worried that he's up to something?"
"Malfoy isn't someone I think about often." She said dully, "As for him leaving at odd hours? Deep sleeper, I'm afraid."
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, "I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I want to help Mr. Malfoy in any way I can. His grades have been slipping so far this year. I'm concerned for him. Though I admire you not wanting to divulge any private information, trust me when I tell you I'm looking out for the both of you." Hermione could see how charming he was, from his voice to how he articulated words. He seemed extremely intelligent and looked like he was thinking ten things at once. Hermione, however, was also intelligent. And could tell his words were... wrong. There was the same thing behind them no matter what he was saying. She knew what it looked like when someone manipulated another.
"So what do you want from me," She asked plainly. Dumbledore laughed a little more, though the sparkle in his eye was gone.
"I'd like you to watch Mr. Malfoy for me," He said.
"You mean, spy." She said, "Let me ask you? Has done anything that warrants me spying on him? Has he committed any crimes or broken any school rules I should be aware of?"
"Miss Granger-"
"Why are you suspicious of him then?" She asked.
"Miss Granger-"
"If you can't give me a reason as to why I should invade Malfoy's privacy and take time out of my now, very busy schedule, then I think we're done here." She waited but he said nothing. "That's what I thought."
Hermione walked back to their room furious, her mind racing with a thousand possibilities as to not only why she was being asked by now two parties to spy on Malfoy, but why her Teacher would ask that of her. When she arrived back, Malfoy was in the kitchenette. She practically slammed the portrait door closed as she entered the room, intent on telling Malfoy that he needed to watch his back. He turned to look at her when she walked in, her stare pointed at him.
"Malfoy." She called for him, "We need to talk."
"What is it Granger? Something to pin on the dastardly Slyther-"
"Malfoy this is important," She told him. "I don't know what you're doing, going out so late at night and I don't care. I also don't care that your anti-social now and have regressed into yourself. But other people are starting to take notice. I can't tell you who, but just know that there are those who what me to spy on you. I said no, of course. But if you could stop acting so Merlin damned suspicious all the time, it would go a long way in the 'people bugging me for information on Malfoy department."
"You told them no?" He asked her, "You told them that you wouldn't spy on me?"
"Well unlike Harry, I don't think you're a deatheater." She stated calmly, "Just start acting normally, for both of our sakes." She started to walk to her room, tired from the days events. She hoped Malfoy did what she said and would act relatively normal from now on. She also hoped that this would be the last time Dumbledore asked her for a meeting, she couldn't say she was fond of how it went.
"Granger," Malfoy called, "Thanks,"
"Don't mention it," She shrugged, "Did it for purely for selfish reasons." before closing her door behind her.
When Monday rolled around, Hermione was pretty excited to talk to Ronald. They had been so rudely interrupted the day before. She would also have to tell Harry about her visit with Dumbledore- which, as it turns out, was going to be a lot harder to describe without only furthering Harry's Malfoy obsession than she had previously believed. Hermione meant, how would she tell Harry that Dumbledore was suspicious enough of Draco Malfoy to go as far as recruiting the Head girl to spy on him, without giving Harry backing to his claim that Draco Malfoy was a deatheater? It was going to be impossible. That's why she decided she'd settle for a good old fashion lie.
She walked down to dinner quickly, her heart hammering just a bit as she descended the stairs and walked into the Great Hall. Hermione was confident that Ronald shared her feelings about having a relationship together. And she was already thinking about retelling this story to Ginny. Her hopes were up, and Hermione didn't want them to fall. The truth was she... well, she wasn't in love yet, but she was damn near close. It had been inevitable, them getting together, ever since the fourth year. She had told him then that he would have to get the courage to ask her out before someone else did, and she had meant it. Now, after two years of waiting, he was finally going to.
When she saw him, her heart fluttered just a little as she waved him over. He jogged over to her, and Hermione accidentally caught Malfoy's eye as she waited for the redhead to get to her. He looked as though he was asking her, 'why and the world would you purposely invite Weasley over?' just with his eyes.
"Ron," She greeted when he arrived. She pulled him out of the Great hall. "I thought we could walk around the grounds to have a proper conversation," She told him.
"That sounds good 'mione," Ron said, fidgeting with his fingers just a little, "Stupid bird interrupting us yesterday..."
They made idle conversation as they walked out to the grounds, it was a cold September evening, and she sighed as the little bit of sun that was left warmed her skin but her breath filled with fresh fall air. They ended up walking down to the lake. The sparkling water looked magical that time of year. She looked up at Ron nervously as they sat down on a log in front of a rocky part of the lake. It was going perfectly, and Hermione reached out to take Ron's hand as he smiled at her strangely.
"Hermione," Ron said, "I was thinking about yesterday and the day before that." He ran a hand through his hair, "And well- well, I think that the only reason we haven't gotten together is that we're such good friends, and we wouldn't want to ruin the friendship between the two of and Harry." Hermione nodded, "And you know, when I broke up with Lavender in my 6th year, I thought that it would be our time, you know? But she and I have been talking a lot recently as friends about me asking you out, and she said that she didn't mind-"
"Ron, I think you're getting a little off track here," Hermione said nervously.
"No, Hermione," Ron stated, "I'm not because when she told me that she was fine with me asking you out, I realized that- well. Listen, Hermione, my feelings for you have always been... complicated. But when Lavender said that? Well, I knew I wasn't fine with giving her up. Whatever is going on between us, I don't see it going anywhere. But with Lavender, I feel like I can see a future with us together." Hermione gulped.
"I see," She managed to force out after a second, "umm well, thank you for being honest- very honest, about that entire situation. Couldn't say that I'm not a little disappointed. Because I do feel differently, but you're entitled to date whoever you want to date, and I'm... happy for you. That you've found someone you feel so connected to." And that was all Hermione could manage before she walked off without Ron, leaving him on the log, and the sunset glowed behind them.
She could feel the tears running down her face as she kept her pace steady and walked back up the castle.
She hadn't been expecting that. And while it didn't happen often, Hermione felt unprepared, unprepared for this feeling of not being enough, unprepared for all future interactions with the boy she had hoped to love one day. It was a terrifying feeling, and it made her chest throb and want to hide away under the covers until everyone had forgotten she had existed. Ron had always been there, always been Ron. Even when he was dating Lavender the first time, Hermione had had this feeling of 'I'll wait it out, and he'll realize his mistake,' but this, this felt definite. She had lost him to the blond girl, and that was that she supposed, didn't mean she couldn't feel sad about it.
She wondered what she was going to tell Harry...
It was beginning to get cold, but Hermione didn't cast a warming spell, letting her skin break out in goosebumps as she shivered ever so slightly. She made her up through the castle and back to her common room, her features and eyes red from crying. She wasn't expecting Malfoy to be sitting there, so she covered her face with her hands, but since he had already seen her, he began stalking over. She didn't think she ever wanted Malfoy to leave her alone more than at that moment.
"What's with the tears, Granger?" He asked her in a taunting voice, "Don't tell me it had something to do with Weasley. What did finally tell you he was poor? Cause I could have told you that-"
"Leave me alone," She said sternly, walking to her room as she violently wiped the tears from her face. He stepped in front of her swiftly. "Malfoy gets out of my way or I make you get out of my way." She hissed.
"No," He smirked down at her, "I asked you a question, Mudblood, what's the problem? Why are you crying?" And Hermione couldn't take it. She drew back her hand and slapped Malfoy across the face, hard. He stumbled back a pace, when he looked up, all she could see was a red mark and an angry expression. "What the fuck, Granger!" He swore, "Merlin, are you insane!"
"I told you to leave me alone, Malfoy!" She yelled, "Get out of my face!" He didn't budge, "NOW!"
"Tell. Me. What. happened."
"Fuck off!" She moved to shove him, but he caught her by the arms, holding her there while she looked up at the Blond with eyes full of what an onlooker might describe as white-hot anger. "Let go of me, you horrible, evil, awful, stupid-"
"Now now Granger, you'll run out of insults,"
"Shitsmear on the wall that is humanity!" She wiggled out of his grasp and ran to her room, collapsing in her bed and holding herself as she began to cry.
Review pretty please.