Author's Note: Lalala… back from vacation! I finally got to write a lot. Now I'm up to 5 unfinished fics, and I have posted exactly one of them. Oh well. Thank you to all my lovely reviewers, and I apologize to those who think I'm not writing fast enough. I agree. I promise to do better! and now onto the Drakie-dear.
Chapter 7
Oh goodie, thought Hermione as she paused in the middle of the common room. Being verbally abused by Ron is just what I need right now. It was especially unwelcome because Harry and Draco had both recently done the exact same thing. And she knew that he was going to yell at her, not only because it was a very Ron-like thing to do, but also because there was no other reason she could think of for him not to be in Hogsmeade with the others.
If he had been waiting all this time since everyone else had left, it meant he would be that much more frustrated now. Hermione braced herself. She knew that Ron had heard the portrait hole close, but when he turned around, he didn't look all that mad. Oh, right, thought Hermione, he knows I wasn't here, but he doesn't know I was *there*. So I'll lie. A lot.
"Morning Ron. Why aren't you off at Hogsmeade?," she asked.
"Harry and I were worried about you when we found out that you hadn't come back last night. We decided that one of us should stay behind and make sure you were all right. I figured that given Harry's present mood it might be safer if I stayed here instead."
Oh that's rich, thought Hermione. "Why should I care which one of you stayed behind? You both acted like prats last night. And God knows I really want to talk to you after you supported him. Because, of course, you were really there for me when I was off crying my eyes out last night."
"Yeah, where were you last night? I didn't know that you were that upset, and Harry probably didn't either. And well, you have been spending a lot of time with him lately. After all, this is Malfoy we're talking about."
"I had a bloody detention with him! I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter. Besides, from the way that everyone's been acting, at this point I might actually rather spend time with him than with Harry."
"So he didn't, like, abduct you or anything?" asked Ron.
Hermione simply rolled her eyes at him.
"And you didn't have a mad snog session with him?"
"No, honestly Ron. Just out of curiosity though, if I had, would that really have been a good reason to disown me?"
"Sorry… overreacted… evil git… grumble," muttered Ron. "But come on, Malfoy? He's been insulting all of us for as long as we've been in Hogwarts, and his family alone contains enough Death Eaters to fuel the second coming of the Dark Lord. Maybe we wouldn't disown you, but you've gotta admit, we'd probably have to send you to St. Mungos." He laughed and gave her arm a friendly punch, letting her know that everything was ok. Little does he know…
In Hermione's mind, however, everything was definitely not ok. She still didn't know what her chances were of making up with Harry, and she knew that Ron would hate her again if she so much as looked at Malfoy the wrong way (which she would be doing a lot of). Not that he could help hating Malfoy. After the mornings events, she might be persuaded in sharing that particular sentiment with him. For the moment, however, she was blissfully safe from Lucius, Draco, and Harry, so she agreed to play Ron at chess.
* * *
After drying himself off and changing into his usual black garb, Draco was beginning to feel better. Although he couldn't quite call it a plan, he did have some idea of what he was going to do about this entire mess. Most likely Lucius wouldn't bother pursuing Hermione if Draco made it clear that he had no actual affection for her, if he made it seem as though she had been a conquest. So he would be even nastier than he usually was, and maybe spread some vicious rumors on the side. Hermione would be mad as hell; but then again, he was saving her life.
His next priority would be to encourage his father to postpone the next step of his initiation into the service of the Dark Lord. He hadn't particularly been jumping for joy at the prospect of being a Death Eater before. Now however, he was going to have serious problems. Draco didn't know what had happened to his eyes, but if he were to be a Death Eater, he couldn't exactly have his face be an open book. And he also wasn't relishing having any more marks on his back - look where they had gotten him so far. Oh well, the best he could do was practice his best Malfoy death glare in whatever time he had left.