Sign Your Name Across My Heart
Chapter Two: Dirus Dilector
Proclaimer: I do, indeed, own this story, and the plot, and Crying Hermione™. Everything else is owned by people I've never met, and only know of from books.
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Hermione noticed his smirk out of the corner of her eye. So she turned her head to look straight at him; apparently he was staring off into space, with a little half smile on his face... and space just happened to be right where she was sitting. "What are you staring at?" she asked coldly.
Draco came out of his daze and gave her an unmistakable grin. "None of your business," he smirked, going back to stare at space.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him curiously. Had Malfoy really just grinned at her? And not thrown an insult where he had the perfect opportunity to call her a Mudblood or something? Odd... he was plotting something probably...
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of Professor McGonagall in their compartment.
"Good afternoon, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy," she said pleasantly, sitting down and smoothing her robes.
"Professor!" Hermione said, her mouth agape at the closed door. "Did you- did you apparate?"
"Obviously," Draco muttered, his mouth once again twisted in his customary trademark smirk.
"But- I thought that was illegal!" Hermione gasped. "It says on page six-fifty-eight of Hogwarts, a History, that-"
"Obviously," Draco interrupted, his eyes glittering, "Your sources are a little archaic. In fact, new apparation techniques and laws were developed three years ago."
"You are precisely right, Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said. "Now onto your responsibilities..."
Draco slanted a smug look at Hermione who glared back at him. He didn't appear ruffled by her glower because he simply arched a silvery eyebrow and looked mildly amused at her stormy look. Hermione ground her teeth and looked away from him at Professor McGonagall as she began to reel off and explain their duties. While Hermione was leaning forward and wearing the intent, rapt look she usually did when learning, Draco was sitting back, arms crossed, looking distinctly bored. As McGonagall finished, the train started to slow down.
"Come, you both have your apparating licenses, correct?" She barely waited for their nods of agreement, then continued. "You'll both need to set passwords. Miss Granger, you can set the Gryffindor password and the Prefect's bathroom; Mr. Malfoy, set Slytherin and the Heads Common Room. Then come straight down to the Feast." McGonagall disapparated, Draco shot Hermione another look accompanied by an irritating wiggle of his eyebrows, she huffed irritably and apparated, he grinned to himself and followed.
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Hermione had already set the Gryffindor common room when she met Draco at the door to their common room.
"Let me in, will you?" she asked coldly. "These suitcases get rather heavy."
Draco shot her a condescending glance.
"Honestly, for someone who's supposedly so smart, you're awfully stupid." He directed his wand at Hermione's luggage and muttered an incantation as Hermione bristled indignantly.
"So, what should our new password be..." Draco said, mostly to himself, peering thoughtfully at the ornate tapestry as if for inspiration.
Hermione shrugged, leaning against the wall, her suitcases feather-light, her thoughts heavy on her mind... unanswered questions... like why the hell was Malfoy being so unusually civil... suspicious, that's what it was....
After a few moments contemplation, Draco muttered the spell to set the password, then tapped the centre of the hanging and intoned: "Diriter." The silver and gold tapestry lifted itself up to reveal a heavy mahogany door, the entrance to their common room. Draco started to head inside, when Hermione said something.
"Diriter? Doesn't that mean 'lover'?"
Draco turned around and quirked an amused eyebrow at her. "Dilector means lover. Either you've got something on your mind that no one needs to know about, or you really need to study your Latin." He rolled his eyes and, turning around, walked into the common room, his bags floating in his wake.
Hermione flushed in humiliation. Suddenly wishing she had spent more time learning Latin, instead of giving into the peer pressure of Harry and Ron and trying to learn to play Quidditch (the attempt had been horribly unsuccessful and resulted in a black eye and a broken wrist). She sighed exasperatedly and followed Draco through the door, feeling the tapestry unroll back to the floor behind her. She headed up the stairs and to her right - to the room which Draco had already rejected.
She mumbled the counter-spell for her floating bags, and they instantly fell to the floor. She stepped round them and shut her door, before looking round her new room. Cosy, she thought, feeling her mood lift a little. The room was decorated in red and gold. She smiled and sat on her bed. The comforter was full and fluffy, and the material was warm, deep red fleece. The bed adjusted magically to fit her needs, not too soft and not too firm, hitting the perfect balance. The pillow was stuffed full of down feathers, charmed to never go flat. She grinned and to vent the last remaining bit of her frustration, directed a punch into the middle of it, watching the charm work and re-inflate the pillow instantly. Feeling better, she hopped off her bed and headed down the staircase.
Hermione had intended to walk to the feast alone, but when she entered their common room, Draco had been standing by their fire, apparently lost in thought; he snapped out of his reverie quickly, and proceeded to lead her to the Great Hall. Hermione rolled her eyes and thought to herself, 'Typical Malfoy...'
The walk was silent; neither could find anything to say and neither were inclined to try particularly hard. When they stepped inside the Great Hall, they were greeted by a tumultuous wave of applause.
"Why are they clapping for us?" Hermione muttered to Draco in an undertone.
"They aren't," he snapped. "They're clapping because the bloody Sorting Hat sang its song. You're either very conceited or very stupid, or most likely – both." He shot her a sideways glance, "And if this is an act to try to get me to like you, believe me, it won't work. Stupid Mudbloods are just as disgusting as smart ones."
"I'm not trying to get you to like me," Hermione shot back scathingly. "I may have said a few... um... silly things today, but I'm still smarter than you. And I assure you, I will never be stupid enough to like a cold heartless evil bastard like you.." She finished, before stomping off in the aftermath of the claps.
Hermione sat down next to Ron at the Gryffindor table and watched the Sorting, not really listening as she was lost in thought. What's going on? Am I losing it? What if Malfoy really is smarter than me, and I just never noticed because we were never forced to be this close before? she thought, before her thoughts shifted to anger: Stupid Ferret Boy, why the hell am I fretting over this? It's all part of some stupid plan he's got going, trying to get me worried... he's always trying to make me look bad... I just wish he would go-
Thankfully, her thoughts were interrupted by Ron jabbing her with his elbow. She turned her head and realized that the food had come, and she had been staring out into space for a few moments. She sighed, forced a smile at Ron and began to eat, her fork stabbing at the potatoes, imagining each one to be wearing a little Malfoy face – complete with smirk.
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After the Feast, Hermione told the other Gryffindor prefects the password, and then led the first years up to the tower. Passing through the Entrance Hall she saw Draco herding the Slytherin first years down a set of stone steps. After sorting out a number of hysterical homesick girls, negotiating peace between two boys embroiled in a heated Quidditch argument, and waving a quick goodbye to Harry and Ron, Hermione finally left Gryffindor Tower.
She was feeling unbelievably tired, her feet plodded heavily on the stone slabs and she eventually neared the tapestry. She stopped, and then clapped a hand to her head. "SHIT!" she exclaimed; exhausted, frustrated tears starting to burn behind her eyes. She slumped to the floor in anger. She couldn't believe that she had forgotten the password already! She'd had a bloody argument with Malfoy over it... it was latin... she hadn't recognised it... She bit her lip in annoyance, she usually prided herself in her ability to remember things.
"Forget the password?" came an amused voice in front of her. Hermione looked up, swiping furiously at the tears that had spilled from the corners of her eyes. She stood up abruptly, and stormed past Draco before he could say anything else, and ran up to her room and slammed and locked the door.
She fell onto the bed, hiding her face in the pillow and muffling the choked sobs. After a long time she sat up, hugging the pillow to her chest and frowning. Why do I let him get to me? He's a bloody slytherin rodent... I know he's not better than me. Her mother's voice came floating into her mind:
Bullies are only trying to get a reaction... don't give them the satisfaction...
Hermione smiled slightly, attributing the emotional overload to exhaustion, she quickly undressed and got into her pyjamas before crawling under the covers again and falling asleep.
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A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far! And thanks to orchid for Zetaing again! Will have more chapters edited soon. :)
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Katerina: Thanks much for reviewing, and I'm sorry you had to go to the dentist right when I updated! :P Hope you like the update!