I'm baaacccckkk! Now, I was debating as to whether I would be cruel, and drag the cliffie on longer by making this next chapter a flashback. Well, you shall have to see if I was feeling nice or not . . . hehe.

The Moonlight Glares

Liza Lew

Disclaimer: I don't own any of JK Rowling's wonderful world or characters.

Chapter 12

Some people would be surprised to find out that Hermione Granger hadn't learned to read until she was eight years old. I guess that being deprived of reading for several years made her want to read even more than everybody who had discovered how to when they were four or five. In fact, Hermione accelerated so fast that by the time she was nine she was beyond everyone else in her class, and well, by the time she went to Hogwarts, the books she was reading where bigger than her.

The first story Hermione learned to read, however, was a short, simple story her mother had written her. It was a version of the fairy tale Aschenputtel. Except in this one, Cinderella's story was only one page long, and consisted of her dancing with the Prince. The ending words, however, were the same as they always were, Happily Ever After.

On her ninth birthday her mother gave her the real book of fairy tales, and Aschenputtel had been the first one she'd read. Of course after that she'd also read Briar Rose, The Twelve Dancing Princesses, Rumpelstiltskin, The Six Swans, Snow White, The Frog Prince, and Rapunzel. However, Aschenputtel had forever remained her favorite. The idea of someone first being shunned, but then working themselves up, through the help of their beliefs, and disobeying their oppressors, to find their dream, whether it be a prince or not, inspired her. Or course, at the time she was probably more into the whole prince-charming dream, but now the story meant more on the follow-your-dreams end of it.

Thus, when Hermione had received her letter for Hogwarts, she had first read as much as was humanly possible about the wizarding world, and then figured out her goal, which she would never give up: to be a part of it, and find a field she loved to work in there. And that had begun her driven study ideals and eventually what would be her friendship with Harry and Ron. Maybe something that had drawn her to them was that they were trying to find their places in the wizarding world too. Harry, after having been ripped away from it at the age of one, and Ron having to find a place separated from those of his brothers'. Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, had always known his place. And flaunted it. She supposed she was prejudiced, really, against him for that. But, everyone's a little bit prejudiced.

Regardless, her love of books which had led her to the small, dusty room, also led her to the shelf labeled "short stories". Where, of course, the first book she pulled out was an, old, dust-covered copy of Grimms' Fairy Tales. She'd opened it to Aschenputtel and wandered over to the chair to sit down, which was where we had last found her.

Hermione finished her favorite fairy tales by reading the words Happily Ever After. I wonder if it ever really happens, she thought, sighing and getting up. All of a sudden Hermione stopped, her eyes wide. Draco Malfoy was an inch away from her, looking down at her. She was paralyzed. She couldn't reach her wand. She couldn't even step away. He was meeting her eyes. She tried to look away. And then his hand tilted her head ever so slightly up. Then there wasn't any more distance between them.

Both Hermione and Draco would remember that day for the rest of their lives. For Hermione, it was a shock. She had had no idea Draco had been thinking anything of the sort about her at any time during her life. He'd just been the ruthless Slytherin that she had to put up with. Not that the moment changed her opinion of him. No, not at all. Really. For Draco, it was a success. He knew he shouldn't have. And he knew she loathed him. But he, as much as it seemed, surely did not loath her. Not that he would ever admit it. Because everything after those few moments was brought crashing back to reality.

Hermione gasped as she pulled away. It had taken all her self-will to pull away, and Draco before her looked broken. His hand pushed a strand of hair out of her face.

"No," she said quietly, and gathered up her dress as she fled the room. Draco stood frozen on the spot unsure of what to say or do. Then he heard it. The clock outside, chiming the time. The time of his doom.

Hermione tried to take in some breath unsuccessfully as she ran down to the fireplace room. She knew this was just surreal, a dream. It was too close to. . .

Gods, no. Her shoe had just come off. Then she heard the clock. No! Harry and Ron were going to be at her house any minute!

She ignored the shoe and ran faster to the fireplace room, grabbing a sickle out of her purse and handing it to the clerk before grabbing some flo power and hastily jumping in, heedless of her dress, yelling "Lane Mansion!"

She spun faster and faster and then found herself stumbling out of her own fireplace, into Harry's arms.

"Alright there 'Mione?" the black-haired boy grinned, "It's not usual for you to be late to your own invitation."

Hermione stood up carefully, "Er. . . sorry. . . I was at the bookstore with-"

Ginny laughed behind Harry, "The bookstore. Hermione, we'd have thought you'd be in the library, but hey, the bookstore works too. Now, are you going to show us our rooms?"

Hermione saw Ron was standing next to three trunks, presumably his, Harrys' and Ginnys'.

"Of course," said Hermione, a small smile finally coming to her lips.

"Harry, this is your room," Hermione said, opening the door to a room decorated in golds and reds, "Unfortunately Malfoy is you neighbor," she motioned to the door to one side.

Harry groaned, "Can't I just share with Ron?"

"He's on your other side," Hermione said shortly. Ron, however, was already exploring Harry's room. He opened the door to the bathroom and saw something, then shut it as fast as was humanly possible.

Ron turned with wide eyes to Hermione, "What is Malfoy doing in Harry's bathroom?"

Ginny suppressed giggles while Hermione patiently explained, "You three are sharing a bathroom. Have fun." Hermione pointed to another door, "That's your room Ron."

While Ginny helped Harry pull his trunk over to the foot of the bed, Ron opened the door to reveal a room in blacks and oranges, with a framed picture of the Chudley Cannons on the opposite wall.

"Sweet!" Exclaimed Ron, who ran over and flopped down on the bed.

Hermione grinned, "I take it I can leave you two to unpack?"

Harry glanced at Ron, "I think we'll manage. When's dinner?"

"Eight," said Hermione, taking Ginny by the hand and leading her out. As soon as they were out of earshot of the guys, Ginny turned to her friend.

"Okay, what's going on?" she said with all seriousness.

"Er. . . nothing, nothing at all," Hermione said, turning down the corridor.

"Riiight. And I have five ears. Hermione, I know something was going on- or is going on."

"How would you figure that?" asked Hermione, stopping at a door.

"One you're wearing a dress. Two you weren't on time. That in itself is enough to set off the red alert. Oh, and you don't have everything under control- I can tell it in your voice." Ginny crossed her arms and looked at Hermione, who diverted her gaze and simply opened the door in front of her.

Ginny couldn't help letting out a gasp. The room was all shades of blue and white, in floral patterns. The bed had a canopy of sheer white fabric, and Ginny near melted at the sight of it. She walked in slowly, circling around.

Hermione smirked, and dragged Ginny's trunk in behind them, setting it at the end of the bed.

"So your bathroom is through there, and a balcony through there. I'm going to go change. I'm just down the hall if you need me." Hermione turned to go.

"Not so fast," said Ginny, her arms crossed and feet planted, "Don't think you can show me a beautiful room and make me forget your interrogation. I still need to know what's up."

Hermione stood on the spot for several moments contemplating. If she told Ginny right now, it would distract her the rest of the night, and both she a Ginny wouldn't be able to act natural around Harry and Ron. If she waited Ginny might hear in an unpleasant matter. Besides, she was a pureblood, so she was bound to hear the gossip at some point, wasn't she? Then again the Weasleys weren't really a part of pureblood society, were they? Hermione's head was spinning.

And beyond that, what was there to tell? That she'd kissed Malfoy? That she'd gone on a date with him? That she was his technical girlfriend? There was only so much she could tell before Ginny got mad or angry, right? I mean, they all, being Gryffindors, hated Malfoy, right?

"Hermione," Ginny called, "I don't have all day."

Hermione rotated slowly on the spot until she was facing Ginny. She took a deep breath, "Hey Gin, you know how pureblood society works right?"

"Yeah," said Ginny, starting to unpack, "Something to the extent of lots of formal dress codes, manner codes, family codes. I studied it when I was young. Not like my family will ever be a part of it."

"Er. . . yeah," said Hermione, "What exactly do you know about the dating part of it?"

Ginny's brow furrowed, "Well, from what I remember, each season- social season that is- you can only date one person, you can't break up during the season, and you have to announce yourselves publicly at the beginning of it, in other words, it's taken very seriously, and anyone you date is most likely your future fiancée."

Hermione, who had known this anyway, went pale at it being put so bluntly in front of her.

"Why?" asked Ginny.

"Well. . . there was a misunderstanding. . ." Hermione began. Ginny looked up and gave her a quizzical face.

Hermione felt very small all of sudden. Like the whole world was growing bigger and she was being left behind.

"Er. . . what I mean is. . . you know Malfoy?"

"Gods, is he dating Parkinson again this season? They're such an awful couple. . . Miss Priss and Mr. Perfect. Except of course that's only on the outside. Although, I do have to say two seasons ago when Millicent and Blaise were together might have been worse. It was like a bowling ball and a pin, the two of them. . ."

"No," said Hermione. Ginny stopped talking. "That's not it. I'm with Draco."

"Well, duh, you've been with him half the summer now, tell me, is he really as big of a prick here as at school? If he is I think I may need to kick his a—"

"No, not that, Ginny. Well, actually he is a prick but that's not what I'm saying. I'm with Draco." Hermione paused to give it emphasis, "I'm dating him."

That was when she heard a large thump outsidethe door.

Alright, so I was feeling sorta nice. I dragged it out a bit, but then I wanted to get to the kiss... which i felt like leaving up to your imaginations. But, of course, I had to end on another cliffie. I suppose that's just what i feel like.

And again, thanks to my loverly beta, Flo, for all the help. The story wouldn't be going with you!

And also, thanks to all the reviewers, who have been constently asking me to update and reminded me of my promise (which I kept... it is now actually early mid-may, so there!)

And, I figured we'd have to start questions again now that (hopefully) I'll be updating regularly. Here you go:

Who's the ghost of Ravenclaw?