Previously:
Draco felt as if his whole body had melted, leaving behind his beating heart. He moved quickly away from Hermione, hating the fact that her eyes tightened in chagrin. She probably thought it was her fault. That she had forced him into it.
He got up from the beds, glancing over his shoulder at her. "I must go," he muttered, trying to keep his emotions at bay.
Bent, he strode towards the door. Just before he exited, he thought he heard her murmur, "Draco..."
-------------------------------------------------------UNINTENTIONAL--------------------------------------------------------
Hermione stared in shock and chagrin as she heard the front door slam shut. The bang! sounded amplified to Hermione, a sound deliberately emphasizing the magnitude of her befuddled emotions. Her lips were still throbbing, but in a good way. This kind of pain felt good, but the aftermath...once the contact had been severed...the pain was on another level entirely. She refused to cry, though. She stared at the ceiling, trying to create patterns out of its plain whiteness. Her hands crumpled the duvet, and she squeezed it hard, as if it was a pain reliever – like the times when her mother or father would pull one of her teeth out. "Here, honey," her mother had said, handing her a towel. "Hold this tightly."
Just as she started seeing dots in the ceiling, she heard Daphne say crossly, "Okay, what the hell just happened?"
"I've no idea what you are talking about," Hermione murmured. The words felt raw, as if she hadn't spoken in a while.
"I'm sick of these denial games you like playing, Granger," Daphne spat. "Tell me the bloody truth."
Ah, the dots had split. "Nothing," she said.
Daphne marched up to her. "Tell me now," she ordered.
Hermione sighed. She looked at Daphne and when she did, Daphne's gaze dropped to her lips. Hermione immediately looked away, but it was too late. "You...kissed?" Daphne asked, sounding horrified.
Hermione didn't say anything.
"How could you kiss him?" Daphne accused.
Hermione looked sharply at Daphne. "He kissed me," she said scathingly.
Daphne's eyebrows shot up. For once in her life, she was speechless. "Malfoy kissed you?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "And you know what he did after?"
Daphne blinked, her eyes brimming with curiosity.
"He left," she muttered, gritting her teeth. "Simply broke off the bloody kiss, and left. Didn't even stop when I called him. And I even used his bloody name!"
Daphne opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it, as if Hermione's abrupt sentences were too confusing.
Hermione laughed humourlessly. "Turns out he didn't want me to say his bloody name after all. Bloody idiot."
"So I guess you're pretty angry, huh?" Daphne said, rolling her eyes.
Hermione stabbed her finger at the air. "Anger is not the word I'd use...Livid...furious..."
Daphne raised her eyebrows, surprised. "Why did he do it?"
"He wanted to prove that we were friends, and that his feelings were purely friendly." Hermione made a face, mocking the statement.
"And are they?" came Daphne's question.
Hermione threw her heads into the air. "I don't know!" she cried.
"Mm hm," she said.
Hermione blinked, feeling her eyes water. "I... cry when I'm angry," she said defensively, her voice suddenly turning wobbly.
Something akin to sympathy lingered on Daphne's features. "No, Granger, I've seen you when you're angry. Your voice gets high-pitched, your ears turn red, and your hands shake...you don't cry," she said softly.
Hermione brushed away the stupid tears before they could burn a path down her face. She tried to square her shoulders, but the action required too much of effort that her shoulders just slumped forward. "How can I let a stupid boy affect me like this?" she asked desperately, staring at Daphne as if she expected the answer to just pop out of thin air.
Daphne approached her slowly. "Don't hate me for saying this," she warned. "But it's because you care."
Hermione felt like rolling her eyes. "I know," she said, wiping another tear away from her eye.
"Then why did you ask?" Daphne said.
Hermione sighed. "This is a fairytale, right? All of this? It will go away after, right?" she fired, her questions not answering Daphne's question.
Daphne shrugged. "I don't know, Granger...Honestly? I still feel the same...just not so sleepy anymore."
Hermione felt something close to hope. "But my character is supposed to fall in love with Malfoy's. So if the spell is reversed, then perhaps I won't feel like this anymore..."
"Why do you sound so hopeful, Granger?" Daphne asked, tilting her head, analyzing Hermione.
Hermione gazed out of the window, taking a few seconds to formulate a reply. "Because..." she said after a while, "It hurts feeling like this."
"Like what?"
"As if...a bubble just popped," Hermione murmured. "You know, there's this Muggle product...bubbles...you blow through this hole and this bubble forms. It sort of floats around and then pops...and whenever that happened, I used to feel so sad...the other children found it quite amusing though..."
"Granger, I don't find your situation amusing at all," Daphne offered.
A small smile lifted the corners of Hermione's lips. "You caught on," she said softly.
"I'm not completely daft, Granger," Daphne said, sounding irritated. "I get that you think everybody would probably laugh at you if they knew what you were going through. Please."
"I've just always lived in a bubble, Daphne. Like you said, I never really lived life. And then Malfoy came along...and made me feel things I hadn't ever felt before...Not for Victor...not for Ronald."
Daphne said, "Granger, you can't go around feeling sorry for yourself. That's lame."
"Yes, I know that," Hermione replied.
"So pull yourself together, woman," Daphne ordered.
"How?"
"Concentrate on the good things in your life...the things that make you happy," Daphne suggested. When Hermione didn't respond to her, Daphne went on, "Like for me, when I'm feeling seriously drained, or lack ambition, whatever...I focus on something that makes me happy. Just think of it this way, alright: imagine your life is like a Dementor...and you gotta think about happy thoughts to defend yourself. Don't let self-pity affect you, Granger. You're not like that."
Hermione took a moment to process this. "Since when did you become so philosophical, Daphne?"
"I have my moments," Daphne sniffed, sticking her chin in the air. Yet Hermione could spot the tiniest of sparkles in Daphne's eyes. Hermione smiled a small smile.
This time Hermione was able to square her shoulders. She stared at the ceiling, noticing that she couldn't see anymore dots; just the ceiling. "You're right," she stated.
"I know I am," Daphne replied self-assuredly.
"I'm not a self-pity kind of person. If I'm angry, I'll be angry. If I'm sad, then I'll be sad. If I'm happy, then I'll be bloody happy," she said, confidence inching into her voice.
"That's the spirit," Daphne encouraged.
Hermione breathed in deeply.
"So what are you feeling?" Daphne asked after a while.
Hermione turned to face her. "Honestly? I haven't the faintest. But you know what?"
Daphne jerked her head upwards in a "what?" motion.
Hermione stood up, bending so as not to touch the ceiling. "I don't feel like hiding anymore. I'm going out to face that witch."
"I could have used a better synonym," Daphne muttered.
Hermione rolled her eyes, glad that the teas had disappeared. She approached the door, but before she walked out, she said, "And...thank you."
Daphne waved a hand. "I don't like those words," she said not unkindly. "Expressing gratitude and expressing an apology are two of my least favourite things."
"Well, you were the one who knocked a bit of sense into my head," Hermione said, smiling slightly.
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Trust me, honey. You would have gotten there without my help."
Hermione shook her head in wonder. Daphne was a wonder, truly. Hermione opened her mouth, and then closed it, thinking better of it. But Daphne seemed to know what she was about to say. "You're welcome," she said through her teeth.
"Baby steps," Hermione said. She walked (stooped) out of the door and once she had gathered her few items, she left the cottage.
"I should become a motivational speaker," Daphne mused as she heard Granger leave. She was about to kick off her shoes and lie down, when she heard Granger come back.
Daphne walked into the lounge. "What?"
"I don't know how to get there," Granger admitted.
"Boo hoo," Daphne muttered.
"Could you take me please?"
Daphne's lips straightened into a thin line. She pointed at Granger. "Now, see? Those are the other two things I hate: the word 'please', and me helping."
"Daphne, don't you want me out of this place?" Granger asked, gesturing around the cottage.
Daphne regarded her. "You know, you've actually grown on me, I think," she said.
"Daphne..."
Daphne made a huge effort to sigh. "Fine," she drew out. She summoned her coat, and walked in front of Granger. "Let's go."
"Thank you."
Daphne gritted her teeth.
---
Draco flew back to the castle, his anger propelling him forward. "Stupid idiot," he muttered, his words quickly getting lost in the wind. How could he have done that? Hurt her like that? Merlin, if he had let that kiss continue, who knows what he would have done? What he would have said? If he had told Hermione that, yes, he did feel something more intimate for her, she might have responded too positively. Then what would have happened after everything would be reversed? They would still have their memories...memories weren't erased.
Determination set in. He was going to go to Professor Pinkle. He was going to get turned back into who he used to be. And then...hopefully, all of this would fade away, like smoke. Then Hermione would know...he would know...that these emotions the fairytale had created. If he and Hermione hadn't been forced together by this fairytale...they mightn't have felt like this. Correct that: they would have never felt like this.
Something twisted in Draco's stomach, but he passed it off for a stitch.
A while later, he realized that it wasn't a stitch, but a reaction to what he had just thought.
Draco leaned forward as he began his descent. But...didn't things happen before the fairytale took effect? Wasn't it Hermione who had helped him? Wasn't it Hermione who led him down the right paths? But what he had felt before the fairytale was friendly, nothing else.
Friendly. There was that word again. Draco felt as if had lost the true meaning of that word. He had been delusional when it had come to this 'friendship' he shared with Hermione.
Shaking off these disturbing thoughts, he landed gracefully on the grass. Clutching his broomstick in one hand, he walked at a brisk pace down the passageways in the school. He ascended the various staircases, nodding at younger students who acknowledged them.
Roughly five minutes later, he found himself knocking on Professor Pinkle's magenta-coloured door. The door opened almost immediately, and Draco walked into the room, not bothering to glance around.
"Ah!" Professor Pinkle exclaimed, beaming. "You arrived!"
Well, obviously.
He cleared his throat. "I apologize for missing the meeting, Professor."
The woman waved a hand in the air. "No problem at all. Come, come," she said, ushering him forward. "Now, most of the cast have gone through this process. Just a few are yet to come."
"Professor," Draco said, "If you don't mind me asking...who are these people?"
"You, Miss Granger, and Miss Vane."
Draco felt as if the room was moving. Holding a finger to his temple, he asked, "Why don't you send for them, Professor?"
"They will come in due time. Don't you worry, Mr Malfoy!" she laughed.
Draco clenched his jaw, following the professor to what appeared to look like a mirror. He stared at his reflection, noticing that his lips looked rather swollen...a brutal reminder of what had just transpired a few moments ago. He couldn't look into the bright silver of his eyes; they looked too accusatory – as if he'd done something inexcusable.
He turned to face the professor. "I just walk through it?" he asked, just to make sure.
"Absolutely," she said, smiling widely.
"And everything will be reversed?"
"Absolutely," she repeated with the same enthusiasm.
Draco breathed in and out, closing his eyes. He was doing the right thing. He was doing the right thing. He was doing the right thing...
He opened his eyes, feeling as if he was being watched. He turned around quickly, yet the only thing behind him was the open doorway. He turned back to the mirror, rubbing his hands nervously together. "No pain, right?" he asked. He'd already been through too much.
He thought he heard a girlish snigger from behind him. He whipped his head around again, but still couldn't see anything.
"None at all, Mr Malfoy," the professor said, looking amused.
"Okay, then," he said. He took a step forward towards the mirror, refusing to look at his reflection. He ignored the feeling of being watched, passing it off as a figment of his imagination. Another step. Another. He placed his foot into the mirror, and shivered as a cool sensation pass over his foot. He decided that the quicker he did this, the less he'd feel. He pulled himself into the mirror, looking up into the mirror at the last minute, noticing a too familiar-looking girl staring maliciously at him from the doorway.
Draco tried to stop himself but it was too late. He had already passed his body through this mirror-like magical device. Not caring about himself or Professor Pinkle's exclamation of "Brilliant!" he hurried towards the door, but the girl was gone. He turned around to look at the mirror again. His features still looked the same, yet he was back to his old self.
Funny. He could have sworn he had just seen Romilda Vane...
---
Following Daphne, Hermione walked forward, her wand thrust out in front of her.
"Yeah, we're almost there," Daphne said over her shoulder, sounding bored.
"Good," Hermione said.
"Uh huh, whatever," Daphne said.
Hermione looked down at Daphne, wondering if it was a Slytherin thing to act as if you didn't care. "So when will you grow back?" Hermione asked.
"No idea."
Hermione blinked. "Didn't you ask?"
"Someone asked, but I wasn't listening."
Hermione thought it best not to respond, knowing that Daphne wouldn't appreciate her thoughts.
"So what's your plan of action, Granger?"
"I'm going to get this spell lifted," Hermione replied.
"I thought you were going to face Vane?"
"If it comes to that...yes. But if this spell is reversed, then Romilda wouldn't want to kill me, because I won't be Snow White anymore."
"Ah...that makes sense, I suppose," Daphne said, sounding disappointed.
"You were hoping for a fight?" Hermione asked, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice.
"Absolutely," Daphne said.
Hermione smiled. "Hey Daphne," she said after a while.
"Mm?"
"Do you think you'd ever want to do this again?"
"Do what again, Granger?"
"This. You're quite likeable, actually," Hermione said.
"I don't do the whole friendship thing, Granger. Sorry."
"Consider it," Hermione suggested.
Daphne shrugged her shoulders, now increasing the pace, so that Hermione had to quicken her pace, too. Less than ten silent minutes later, Hermione could see the castle. "Oh," she gasped. "How I've missed this!"
Happiness filled her heart. She flicked her wand, Summoning her bags from Hagrid's cabin. Thankfully, Hagrid wasn't in his cabin. He was probably out in the Forbidden Forest collecting things for his classes tomorrow. Hermione let her bags float in the air next to her as she made her way up to the castle, Daphne now at her side.
When they came to the foot of the main staircase, Daphne turned to look at Hermione. "Go to Professor Pinkle's office."
Hermione nodded. "Where will you go?"
"Slytherin dungeons," Daphne replied, smiling slightly.
Hermione nodded again. "See you around, Daphne," she said softly.
"Likewise, Granger," Daphne said, dipping her head in classic country-western style. She sped off in the direction of the Slytherin dungeons, and Hermione followed her with her eyes until the girl disappeared out of eyesight.
Shaking her head, Hermione made her way up the staircase. She paused when she felt someone looking at her. She looked around, not noticing anything. She continued up the stairs, and walked towards the Head Tower so that she could leave all her bags. She could still feel as if someone was watching her, but she ignored it. Just before she was about to ascend another staircase – the staircase that took her directly to the Head Tower – she heard a yell behind her, "Petrificus Totalus!"
Hermione didn't even have time to respond. She heard her bags and wand drop to the floor, and she fell backward. The only things she could move were her eyes, and she rolled them around and around trying to find her attacker. A shadow fell over her, and she looked up into the smirking face of Romilda Vane.
"Hello, Hermione," the girl said mock-sweetly. She bent to pick up Hermione's wand, and Hermione felt like crying out. If she'd had the wand with her, she could have performed a non-verbal spell! She glared at Romilda, but the girl just looked innocently back at her.
Romilda looked around them. "You know, it would be better if we were in a non-exclusive place, but what I have to...do...shall be quick," she said, her eyes glinting.
She knelt down so that she was right next to Hermione. "I'm sorry, Granger, but the school needs to know that I am the most beautiful girl here...not you."
She reached into her bag to bring something out, and Hermione felt like laughing and screaming at the same time. The girl pulled out an apple – shiny and juicy-looking. Romilda didn't even know how predictable her actions were! Hermione silently cursed. If only she had her wand!
"You're going to eat this, Granger," Romilda said, holding up the apple. "No, no," she laughed, looking at Hermione's angry, defiant expression. "You have no choice, darling. And your Prince Charming won't be able to kiss you better. You see, he's already been through the mirror." She laughed.
Dread filled Hermione. Romilda couldn't possibly kill her, right?
Wrong.
Romilda pointed her wand at Hermione's face. "Imperio," she whispered. Hermione felt her resolve slip. All her mental strength seeped from her body, and she battled to hold on to it. "Eat the apple, Granger," Romilda ordered.
Hermione couldn't move...she was spell-bound by two spells. Romilda seemed to realize this as well. She waved her wand, and Hermione felt the air turn crisp around her. She battled to overcome the force driving her to eat the apple, but she crumbled. She dropped to the floor, snatching the apple from Romilda. Romilda smirked.
She sunk her teeth into the apple. She focused on the sweetness of the apple, instead of the bitterness she knew was about to come. Pain gripped her system – what kind of potion was in this? – and she screamed.
"Shut up!" Romilda ordered, her face turning into a mask of shock.
Hermione was forced to close her mouth, but she squeezed her eyes shut as the pain failed to go away.
"Merlin, what's happening! Shit! This wasn't meant to happen! " she heard Romilda whisper frantically.
Hermione's body started to convulse. Her head slammed against the wall, and Hermione clenched her fists as she felt the pain increase.
"Stop! Stop!" She heard Romilda cry. Romilda was shaking Hermione's body, as if that would stop her from shaking.
Yet whatever substance was in the apple was too powerful; it overrode the Imperius Curse, and slowly and painfully started to claim Hermione's senses. Her eyes drifted shut.
"HELP!!" she heard Romilda yell. Her cries for help went on and on...a constant echo that failed to stop.
Just when the pain reached its peak, everything seemed to stop. The last thing Hermione felt were a pair of cool hands on her face before she was thrust into unconsciousness.
--------------------------------------------------------to be continued--------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Sorry it was kind of a short chapter...But tell me what you think, please : ) I promise... We're almost there...