Hi! I hope you are enjoying the story so far! I am so excited for this story to unfold, and I apologize for the late update. School has been kicking my ass, but here is chapter 3. I will try my best to update as frequently as possible, but I apologize once again if it takes me a while sometimes. Thank you for your reviews, I love to hear feedback and read comments, so please keep them coming. Enjoy! xx
Hermione woke up very early on Monday morning with the intention of starting a new routine of waking up and partaking in acts of self-care for the rest of the semester. It started with little things, like waking up and going on a jog, which was a pleasant activity during the early fall because mornings were cool, but it was refreshing once you began to run. Once she finished jogging, she would shower, straighten or curl her hair—today would be a straight day, and finally put on some light makeup. Hermione would then put on her uniform, and she decided to wear sheer tights instead of her thick winter ones, as well as opt out of wearing robes before it actually became cold outside. The morning routine would end with her reading a book, spraying herself with muggle perfume and making her way down to the great hall for breakfast… all before most people were even awake.
The Great Hall was actually quite peaceful in the mornings, that is, if you arrived there before everyone else did. When Hermione walked into the hall, there had only been a handful of students scattered across each table, and only Professor Snape and Flitwick were seated at the back. As she made her way over to the assumed Gryffindor table, she could have sworn two Ravenclaw seventh year boys had been looking at her but when Hermione glanced over at them, they suddenly appeared to be lost in their arithmancy textbooks. The girl had thought it odd considering Ravenclaws didn't typically care for anyone outside of their house, but she suspected her new look might have had something to do with it.
Pushing her insecurity aside, Hermione decided she liked how she looked and was proud of her newfound care for her appearance. Her mother had always told her, "When you look good, you feel good and when you feel good, everything somehow always comes together." Before recently, Hermione had determined that Jean Granger was just plagued with the unfortunate ideals of internalized misogyny—but she'd realized that her mother was right. Looking good didn't mean trying to impress men, it meant pleasing yourself and feeling confident in your own skin. Besides, getting compliments from girls meant more to her than getting complimented by a male—if a girl thinks you look good, she usually means it, but if a guy says it, it could mean a multitude of things—mostly that he just wants to shag.
As Hermione sat at the table and began eating her breakfast, she watched as the seats around the hall began to fill up with students. Mainly Ravenclaws, who she'd assumed were always punctual for any feast in the Great Hall. Teachers had also began joining one another for their morning meal, and Hermione noticed Snape had already left. From her peripheral, she noticed a flash of red hair and assumed Ron had entered the hall. Spinning her head to the opposite direction, Hermione saw that it had actually been Ginny already coming her way.
"Hermione!" the younger girl exclaimed, "you look stunning!"
Hermione blushed at the compliment.
"Thanks Gin!" she replied, "I'm trying this new thing where I put effort into how I look."
"Well, you definitely do not need to try," Ginny said as she slid onto the bench opposite Hermione, "but you look great nonetheless!"
Hermione could feel herself blush once more, and really wanted to change the subject, so she asked Ginny what she'd been wanting to ask her since last Friday.
"Not to push you or anything, but since we're alone I've been meaning to ask you," she began, "are you okay? I mean, after what Harry said during the auction announcement."
Ginny frowned, "Was I that obvious?"
Hermione lied, "No… I just have an eye for these things you know me Gin."
With a deep sigh, the Weasley girl replied, "I just thought he finally felt the same way about me, especially after this summer," she swallowed, "it's like we really clicked you know? I thought after everything with the DA last year that he'd finally opened his eyes and realized how right we are for each other."
Hermione couldn't help the feelings of pity that were currently swarming her, she'd felt partially responsible for the whole auction idea. She had been one of the main supporters behind it and had even proposed that the proceeds go to elf welfare instead of dragon. She'd wished that at least the fifth years could be involved as well, and someone had proposed the idea but alas the prefects and heads of the school had settled on it only being sixth and seventh years. Still, Hermione could only think of one way to appease Ginny and potentially garner Harry's attention as well.
"Have you tried to make him jealous?" Hermione suggested, "he's a stubborn boy after all."
Ginny looked up at Hermione, and the gears appeared to already be shifting inside that red head of hers. It was in that moment that Hermione's guilt had finally started to cede, and she knew Ginny was diabolical enough to pull off this scheme without anyone getting hurt.
"You really are the brightest witch of our age; you know that right?" the young witch beamed.
Hermione smirked, "Like you would have never come up with the idea yourself."
"Maybe," Ginny retorted, "but not as soon as this! You've given me so much time to find someone!"
"So much time?" Hermione giggled, "the auction is this Friday."
"So?" Ginny said, "that's 5 days! I'll probably find someone by the end of the day."
The two girls kept going back and forth, glancing every so often at the main door of the hall to inspect any potential suitor who could walk in at any moment. Unbeknownst to them, they were also being watched. A sizeable group of Slytherins had shuffled into the Great Hall during their bantering and had already started to discuss the events that would be taking place on Friday. Blaise Zabini, the man in question had been arguing with his comrades about the legitimacy of his acceptance of the dare when he noticed Hermione Granger get up from her seat and make her way out of the hall.
"Mates! Look, look at her," the Italian said, "you're really going to sit here and lecture me about how filthy she is? She's fit as hell!"
"So, she brushes her hair one time and all of a sudden she's a Beauxbatons extraordinaire?" Daphne sneered.
"So vile," Crabbe added, but his roaming eyes said otherwise.
Pansy had been staring at the Gryffindor girl without shame, and at this point, everyone knew she was just checking her out. Ever since she'd made out with Daphne, Pansy had been more open about her sexuality and everyone else had been rather accepting of it. Slytherins may be prejudiced about socioeconomic and blood status, but when it came to their own friends, and trivial things like their sexuality… acceptance was without question. Only the elder witches and wizards of pureblood society would care about such a thing, but no one really cared for their opinions anymore anyway. Pansy had gone to each group member on Saturday individually and had explained to each person that she no longer wanted to hide her sexuality, and that she liked both girls and boys. Everyone had shown support, and it had made them all feel closer to her too, as she usually wasn't a very open person.
Draco had finally walked into the hall, just as Hermione walked out and seemingly did not notice the girl. He did notice, however, that the entirety of his friend group had fixated stares all pointing in his direction. Draco instinctively looked down to inspect his uniform, thinking that perhaps he'd spilled something on himself, or his shirt hadn't been tucked in—but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Once he reached the table, the boy simply asked, "what's with the staring? You lot are creeping me out."
"Like you don't know," Goyle scoffed.
"Uhm, I think knowing would defeat the entire purpose of asking the question, don't you think?" Draco replied sarcastically.
"She literally walked right past you," Pansy said, "you didn't notice her?"
Confused, Draco simply asked, "Who are you talking about? Walked past me when?"
"Granger," Blaise smirked, "all dolled up and ready to be swept off her feet."
Draco shot Blaise a look of incredulity, then snapped his head back to Pansy, "please, not this again," he pleaded, "please tell me you people aren't still on the whole Granger thing! I thought it was all a joke."
"'Fraid not," Pansy looked at him softly.
Pansy knew Draco was feeling more conflicted about the situation than he was letting on. The girl was not daft enough to think Draco liked Hermione Granger or harboured any warm feelings toward the Gryffindor either, but it had to be weird for him. Hearing Blaise call Hermione fit and knowing what was in store for them on Friday must be an extremely confusing situation for him—not that he would ever admit it. Pansy knew Draco's family, along with many other families had been extremely anal about blood purity and basically shoved it down their children's throats…but it would take a blind idiot to say Granger hadn't come into her own. Then again, Draco's only romantic endeavours had been shagging Pansy for release and playing pretend couple to benefit both of their social lives.
"You can hate her all you want," Blaise said, "it's better for me if you do anyway."
"And you taking her out is even better for me," Draco shot back, "it's hard having a full-time stalker, I'd love for you to take that filth off my hands."
Blaise simply smiled back and made his leave.
Class would begin soon, and Draco realized their next class was potions—with Gryffindor. He thought about having to sit through an entire period with Professor Slughorn babbling on about the good old days while simultaneously licking Saint Potter's arse and Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes. He just knew today was going to be unpleasant and like with most things, he had been right. But never in his wildest dreams did the boy think he would be that right.
As Draco walked into the potion's classroom, he was met with a sight that made his stomach flip. With Pansy right behind him, he couldn't stop to look and the blond Slytherin was almost grateful for his fake girlfriend pushing him forward to their usual seats. For what was behind him had taken him completely by surprise.
Blaise had been sitting at Hermione Granger's worktable, where one of her Gryffindor husbands usually sat. They had actually been talking and Draco thought he might have seen Granger smiling at the Italian boy. The whole idea nearly made him nauseous, and had it not been for Pansy he would probably still be at the front of the classroom staring at them. What the hell was going on? To make matters worse, Potter and the Weasel had walked in and basically stomped over to a table in the back of the class near him and Pansy. At least they were upset about the whole thing too.
"What the bloody hell is she doing?" Draco overheard Ron say.
"I dunno," Potter replied, "she's probably still upset about this," and Draco watched as the boy pointed to his worn-down potion's textbook.
Draco had to stifle a grin, of course those two were none the wiser and could never believe a guy would be interested in their only female friend. Draco cursed himself for internally defending her, knowing full well that he would've never believed it either if it hadn't been for Blaise's relentless attitude towards the girl. He still didn't understand how anyone could find Hermione Granger attractive, especially someone from Slytherin house.
Draco had been lost in thought when he heard a commotion occur where Potter and Weasley were seated. It appeared that the boy who lived had gotten up from his chair, and his redheaded friend had grabbed his arm in an attempt to make him stay seated.
"Sit down Harry!" Ron whisper-shouted, "Slughorn is going to kick us out—again!"
"Didn't you see?" Harry whisper-cried back, "Zabini grabbed a piece of her hair!"
At this, Draco stopped listening to their conversation and brought his attention back to the front of the class where his fellow Slytherin and ex-stalker were seated, only to find that Potter had been right. Blaise was touching Granger's hair, and she wasn't stopping him. It was then that he noticed the straightness of her hair—she had clearly tried to look nicer today. Not like it really worked, but it was a step up from her usual mop of frizzy hair. It even shined in the light, and Blaise was grabbing tiny strands of it to get her attention—a classic Zabini move. Draco then noticed the Italian lean over his seat and whisper something into Granger's ear. Probably some profanity, because the Gryffindor girl immediately blushed and looked away from him. Draco didn't know why his palms had become sweaty, but he was grateful for Slughorn interrupting his train of thought to announce whatever potion they would be brewing today.
Granger raised her hand; it had been surprising that she'd waited this long to do so.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" Slughorn breathed, it seemed he felt the same way about the girl.
"I just wanted to know if you would be assigning a partner for today's activity," she said, and then looked over at Blaise who was already smirking at her, "Or are we to remain paired with our current seating partners?"
"The latter," the old man replied, "now if there are no other questions, please begin your work."
After the potions class had ended, Hermione made her way to Ancient Runes, which she fortunately would not be having with Slytherins. She had just spent her entire first period trying not to have an anxiety attack, and the girl now needed an easy period where she could breathe. It had started when Blaise Zabini asked if he could be her partner for the day. Hermione had reluctantly agreed, not knowing how to be rude to someone who had never shown any disdain or animosity toward her. The boy had been part of a select few Slytherins who she had deemed 'bearable', but Hermione had never actually spoken to him one on one. For good reason apparently, as he did not know when to stop talking—or flirting. The first thing Zabini had said once he was seated next to her was, "you look excellent today, by the way." She couldn't help but smile at the compliment, however when Malfoy walked into the classroom and scowled at seeing them together, Hermione thought she was being pranked or something. Worse than Malfoy's reaction was Ron and Harry's temper tantrum upon seeing her with a Slytherin, and in the words of Ron Weasley, "allowing for such a terrible seating arrangement."
Anxiety ridden, Hermione had looked over at Zabini and said, "maybe sitting together wasn't such a good idea."
"Nonsense," the dark-haired boy had replied, "it's time for people to stop acting so immature."
"Immature?" Hermione scoffed, "don't you think the group you call your friends hating me for basically being born is a bit more than immature?"
"I wasn't just referring to Slytherins," Blaise began, "but yes, I have to agree with you that pureblood prejudices go beyond immaturity… I would say it's a cultural phenomenon."
"That's sweet," Hermione replied, "their cultural phenomenon can shove it."
The Italian chuckled and had begun asking her questions about her life. It had seemed genuine enough, and not too personal where it made Hermione uncomfortable. The more they spoke, the more she'd realized she had been wrong about Blaise Zabini. He was charming and attractive as well, not to mention he was friends with Draco. That interested her more than she was willing to admit to herself, because as much as she tried to forget about her former crush, it was difficult seeing him and knowing how little she'd meant to him. Sticks and stones, the girl had always told herself when trying to find solace after all the unnecessary and hurtful things he would say.
"You have a nice smile," Zabini had said, and Hermione blushed for a second time that morning.
"So do you," she'd replied, her eyes meeting his unwavering gaze.
He'd then done something completely unexpected, and it made all her insecurity come flooding back in. Blaise had grabbed a piece of her hair and had begun playing with it. Had Hermione not spent years being teased about her hair, being told how frizzy and unappealing it was, she probably would have not even blinked. But, with her years at Hogwarts being what they were, the girl could not get past her insecurity. When people make fun of something long enough, it becomes easy to believe what they're saying, and it also becomes an extremely difficult insecurity to overcome. Especially when the worst of the teasing came from Draco himself. Words hurt.
Hermione had tried to ignore the Italian bloke for the rest of class after the hair incident, but there had been no use. The boy was relentless. He even apologized for touching her without consent, and she'd accepted it. She reasoned with herself and concluded that a Slytherin never apologized, especially not in public where others could hear—so he must have been sincere. The girl then spent the rest of the period bantering with Blaise and actually enjoyed the back and forth. Despite this, Hermione was still on edge and wasn't sure what to make of their encounter. Hermione had spent so many years chasing Draco that she'd never considered the possibility that other males could be interested in her, nor that she may reciprocate their feelings. It was all very confusing.
After Runes had ended, Hermione decided she would grab her lunch from the Great Hall and eat in the courtyard. The girl needed some air, and time to process all her new feelings so she figured going outside was her best bet. What she hadn't counted on was the group of Slytherins that were also seated in the courtyard having their lunches. Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass had all been sitting around a new picnic table when Hermione made her entrance. The Gryffindor girl felt a rush of anxiety swarm her and immediately located the furthest possible table from the group and made her way there.
Unfortunately, her swift movements had drawn their attention to her, and they all stared as she took her seat. Hermione tried to ignore their gazes by opening one of her textbooks while simultaneously eating small bits of her food, but there had been no use. Her heart was racing, and five pairs of eyes were burning holes into her. Hermione didn't understand what they could possibly staring at, as nearly all of them hated her and hardly ever looked her way unless it was to say something cruel. It felt like she was being put under a magnifying glass and the girl was already contemplating going back inside—but she didn't want them to win.
Suddenly, Hermione heard a familiar voice call on her. Another pang of anxiety flooded her body, as she looked up from her textbook and saw Blaise Zabini waving her over to his picnic table. Reverting to her previous opinion of him, the girl began to suspect that this morning had definitely been a part of some cruel prank. Hermione tried to ignore him, but he just kept calling her over. Had he no shame? She just wanted to read her textbook and eat in peace damn it!
Hermione knew she was being a chicken in avoiding the Slytherin table, but who could blame her? The people sitting with Blaise had made her life a living hell for years and literally hated her. They didn't even consider her a person—they didn't consider her at all. And that was probably what made Hermione get up and finally go over and see what Blaise wanted from her.
As she walked over, Hermione noticed everyone had been looking at her already except for one person. Of course he would do anything in his power not to acknowledge her, he couldn't even fake it.
"Hi Blaise," she'd said upon arriving, and noticed the Greengrass girl frowning. Bitch.
"Hello Hermione," the boy purred in response, "would you like to sit with us for lunch?"
She gave him an incredulous look. What the bloody hell was he playing at? Was she to discuss Arithmancy homework with Pansy Parkinson? Or better yet, the trials and tribulations of being a mud blood with Theodore Nott? Hermione had to refrain from laughing.
"I think I'll pass," Hermione replied, and began turning back to get her things and leave. So much for a breath of fresh air.
"Wait," Blaise interjected, "we won't bite, will we mates?"
Hermione hadn't even turned back to face him yet, but she hadn't heard anyone reply. Figures. These people couldn't even pretend to like her, not even for their sick and twisted prank.
"I bite," chimed in Pansy Parkinson.
Hermione turned around at that. She was beginning to think that maybe playing their game would be fun. Hermione wasn't naive, she knew their intentions but something was telling her to fight back and play along with their little game. Nobody would take advantage of her, at least not anymore.
"Actually Blaise," Hermione began, and accio'd her things from the other table, "I will sit with you."
The look of horror on Daphne's face had been enough to make this all worthwhile.
As she sat down, Hermione noticed Pansy Parkinson never taking her eyes off her. It had been strange, but there had been no malice in her gaze, just observation. The Slytherin girl had probably been trying to think of something rude to say, but nothing came.
It had been Theodore Nott who'd broken the silence. This was all a bit too strange.
"So, Granger tell us," he began, "do you like games?"
Hermione could've sworn she felt a leg move under the table but didn't acknowledge it. She was too focused on what Theo had said and was trying to figure out what his angle was. Clearly, she was missing something, but the girl still wanted to play along and find out what it was. Curiosity had always been her downfall, but Hermione felt like she was at an advantage in that moment. These people probably thought she wanted to be there because of Malfoy and figured she was not onto their little scheme. Did they not know she had been deemed the brightest witch of their age?
"I love games," she'd replied confidently, "but unfortunately it's gotten to a point where they're no longer amusing because I always win."
Blaise smiled at this, but it was Daphne who'd replied.
"Is that so?"
"Yes," said Hermione while staring the other girl down. She was not scared of the pureblood princess.
"You'll find that I'm also quite good at games," Theo finally replied, "I happen to be good at spin the bottle and chess."
"Spin the bottle?" Pansy scoffed, "that's rich, because it takes so much skill to be good at a snogging game."
Hermione giggled at this, and the incredulity of the situation in general. Had Theo been pimping himself out to her?
"It requires a certain amount of skill to be a good kisser," Theo defended, "you wouldn't know."
"I think Draco here," and Pansy motioned to the blonde who'd been silent the entire time, "can vouch for me."
At this, the Malfoy boy looked up and stared harshly at Hermione. This had been the first time that he'd stared at her and really looked at her for a longer period of time than 5 seconds, without saying something cruel.
"Pansy, you- you're a great kisser," Daphne said quietly while blushing.
Pansy blushed in return at this, and Hermione could've sworn she saw Pansy's eyes flash in a way that was more-than-platonic. The boys had all been smiling too. Interesting.
Draco added, "as much as I don't like to kiss and tell, I'll give you this one Pans."
The boy looked over at Hermione and had expected her to cry or get up and leave, but she hadn't reacted at all to his words. Instead, she'd been exchanging glances with Blaise and the two had probably not even heard him. When she'd returned his stare earlier, he had finally got a good look at her face and was surprised to see her wearing makeup. The whole idea of her caring about her appearance and having people like Blaise notice her was off-putting to Draco. Obviously, he was not in any position to tell Blaise what to do, but having his former stalker sit with them at lunch and distract him from spending time with his closest friends was irritating. What was more irritating was that he now found her distracting. Maybe she was better looking than he remembered, but so what? That didn't make his feelings change, and it certainly didn't make her the next candidate for Witch Weekly. This entire dare/auction scenario was really starting to unnerve him.
"See!" Pansy turned to Theo, "I rest my case."
Theo rolled his eyes at the girl but said nothing. Instead, he decided to return his gaze back to Hermione.
"Are you a good kisser?" Theo suddenly asked, and then smirked.
Draco spit out his pumpkin juice, and the table erupted with laughter. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. At this point, the boy deduced that there had been an ulterior scheme going on. Why were his friends doing this? Why would they ask a girl who'd only ever had eyes for him if she was a good kisser? As if she'd ever kissed any—
"I think so," Hermione lied, "at least it's what I've been told."
The entire table, apart from Blaise had stopped moving. Draco's mouth opened and closed. The others were completely silent. It appeared as though everyone had just heard the most shocking news of all time. Nice, Hermione thought. It had been the perfect time for her to show some confidence and add extra shock value.
"I've been told I have the right lips for kissing," she looked at Blaise flirtatiously.
Hermione noticed everyone direct their stares to her lips, and she knew they'd bought her confident act. Good. She was tired of everyone treating her like she was a disgusting loser who couldn't be bothered with. Even though it had all been a lie, and she had been saving her first kiss for someone who would never give it to her, it was time for her to get even with these insufferable people. She knew a statement like that would bother them enough.
"I guess you'll have to prove it," Blaise flirted back, "this Friday, after the auction, we always throw parties in Slytherin, and I would like to formally invite you."
At this, everyone seemed to redirect their stares back to their Italian friend. Pansy looked amused, Draco paled, Theo smiled, and Daphne looked disgusted—it was an interesting mix, to say the least. But Hermione was still focusing on keeping her cool, and not showing any signs of anxiety or insecurity. Her heart had started to race at Blaise's proposal, she had never been kissed after all, game or not.
"I'll have to let you know," was all she replied, but then added, "depending how the auction goes I don't know what my weekend plans will entail."
Blaise smiled, "I'll be sure to confirm your R.S.V.P."
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