Complicated
by Squin

Part One: The Wheels Are In Motion

Merlin, I'm starving. Hagrid just made the whole class carry bales of Ambrosia wheat from the front gate to the Pegasus paddock in Care of Magical Creatures this morning. Oh, and it's the first day back after Christmas holidays, so, of course, it's snowing.

I'm so sick of working. That was stupid, I complain, as we head back up to the castle for lunch.

Hermione shakes her head. Oh come on Ron, this is Sixth Year, it's not fun and games anymore.

When the hell was it ever fun and games? I decide not to say anything though.

says Harry thoughtfully, Since when is carrying wheat going to be tested in the NEWTs? I mean, don't get me wrong, Hagrid's a champ, but Ron's got a point.

Responsibility, Harry, says Hermione sniffily, looking peeved as she shuts the front doors behind her and walks with us across the Entrance Hall to the Great Hall. We've got to learn about work ethic

Yes Miss-Head-Girl-To-Be Ma'am, I say.

Hermione shakes her head again, but she's got a bit of a grin on her face I can't believe you two were actually made Prefects, I mean, I've never met a bigger pair of Quidditch-obsessed slackers in my entire – She stops her tirade suddenly though, because that slimy git Malfoy just walked right into her.

He seems all dazed, and pulls back suddenly, smashing into the doorjamb.

he mumbles. Did he just apologise? He looks at Hermione for a split second, and then mopes off to the head of the Slytherin table.

Well, that was odd, says Harry, craning his neck around to stare at him as we head to the Gryffindor table.

You can say that again, I say.

Harry looks at me, then grins. Well, that was odd.

We both crack up.

He looks really depressed, says Hermione, ignoring us. She's still watching Malfoy, who's sitting next to Parkinson and Goyle but ignoring everyone and not touching his food.

Serves him bloody right, I say, piling bangers and mash onto my plate.

No one deserves to be depressed, Ron.

I say. The Ferret deserves whatever he gets.

Hermione shakes her head.

Ah, speaking of The Ferret, says Harry looking excited, training's on tonight. We're not slacking off just because it's the first day back, we have some serious tactics to organise for the Slytherin match, my good Keeper.

Aye-aye, Captain, I say, saluting.

But the Slytherin match isn't 'til the middle of February! says Hermione, looking bemused.

says Harry very gravely, Only a month and a half to prepare, we're very behind schedule.

Hermione rolls her eyes and looks up to the sky on the Enchanted Ceiling. Dear God, I know I'm a witch and that's all very bad and everything, but please just answer this one question: why do I have to be friends with such mindless prats?

Because you wuv us! says Harry, looking deeply upset, pulling puppy dog eyes and sticking out his lower lip. I can't hold back a chuckle.

Hermione pretends to think. No, that can't be it, she says.

I resent you calling us prats and saying you don't love us, Hermione, I say, pretending to be offended.

But you know it's true, right?

Maybe I actually am offended you're right But then, why are you friends with us?

The world works in mysterious ways, she says, grinning.

I love that smile. Did I just say love? That's not what I meant. Really. She's just got a really nice smile. I'm allowed to say my friend's got a really nice smile, aren't I?

Something Bill said to me over the holidays comes to my head.

Harry and Hermione came home with us, and Bill was over from Egypt we were having a snowball fight and I'd just chucked two at Hermione.
HAH! Take that frizz-head!
Bill and I were hiding behind a tree.
You know, if you like her in that way, you've really gotta stop being such an idiot around her, said Bill.
Like who in what way? I said.
Hermione, dunderhead.
Hermione? What about Hermione? She's my best friend. I wondered where this was going.
Are you sure?
Of course I'm bloody sure. Why wouldn't I be sure who my best friends are?
Are you sure she's not more than a best friend?

More than a best friend? I don't like her more than a best friend. She's my best friend. She's Hermione.

She's looking at me with a puzzled look on her face. I realise I've been staring at her.

she says.

You're still upset that I don't love you, aren't you? she says. Is she mocking me?

OOOOOOOH, defensive, says Harry.

Well, she doesn't love you either.

He pretends to sob.

says Hermione under her breath, shaking her head. She got that off me.

Grinning, I stab a sausage with my fork, but as I'm bringing it up to my mouth, I suddenly feel really sick it's odd, my stomach feels empty, but I want to spew. I look up at the Ceiling and take a deep breath to calm myself down.

Like when the whole Viktor Krum thing happened, your reaction wasn't one a best friend would have. Harry didn't go mental, said Bill.
I didn't go mental!

I was worried about her. Who knew what he'd be up to? He was from Durmstrang. He was eighteen and Hermione was fourteen. Excuse me, but does that not sound illegal to anyone else? My reaction was completely understandable. And I was right, wasn't I? He dumped her. He made her cry. What a bastard. I wasn't jealous.

Harry makes a noise beside me that I think is supposed to be radio static. Ssssch. Earth to Weasley. This is Mission Control. Come in, Weasley. Do you read us?

I must've been staring at the Ceiling for ages.

Sighing and cricking my neck, I shoot a mock serious glare at him. Harry, how many times do Hermione and I have to tell you? Muggle electronic communication devices do not work within the grounds of Hogwarts.

Hermione bursts out laughing. Ronald Weasley, I am so proud of you! She's grinning.

I never noticed before, but her eyes have these cool rings with different shades of brown in the irises –

Oh whoa, that smile

I'm surrounded by faces and smiles
Is it you who I'm seeking tonight
Maybe now or maybe a while
But I'll know it when it's right
I see love in your eyes
But I could be mistaken
I see love in your smile
Is it you who I'll be taking tonight

*

Friendship is one of the strongest bonds there is. But it is also a very fragile and delicate thing that can crumble to pieces when attacked with secrets, lies and pride.

It was in Sixth Year when Hermione found herself changing her mind and ignoring her own advice. At the time it was one of those strange things that was simultaneously wrong and yet right. It turned out to be the cause of more heartache than Hermione ever could have imagined possible.

That was the year Professor Snape had decided to assign cauldron partners who would be working together for a whole term. On returning to school after the Christmas break, she was dismayed to find herself sharing a cauldron with Draco Malfoy, who appeared to be equally disgusted.

Pass the porcupine quills, Mudblood.

Get them yourself, Ferret.

They were both fuming that first lesson. The Memory Potion they were working on was ruined, and Snape took ten points from Gryffindor. He seemed to be quite pleased with the pairing arrangements, as it allowed him to take points off Gryffindor and particularly Hermione just about whenever he wanted.

Then the rest of that week Malfoy didn't even talk to her. Hermione didn't care.

The less I have to hear from the git, the better.

Something that surprised Hermione however, was how easy it was for her to work with him. They hardly uttered a word to each other, each too busy focussing on the project at hand. Both of them worked doing their own thing, but when they had to collaborate in the final stages of the assigned task, everything would come together seamlessly. They may have hated each other, but they made a very efficient team.

Malfoy was smart. The Gryffindors may have spited him for being Snape's pet, but while working with him, Hermione saw that Potions was like second nature to him. His precision with the ingredients, his fluidity with the delicate movements required for stirring some of the more potent concoctions and his confident conscientiousness proved why Malfoy's rank in this subject was, for once, higher than hers.

But Hermione did notice that something was wrong with him, something unusual about his demeanour. He often had an almost glazed expression on his face he looked depressed like on the first day back that term, when he'd walked into her, not realising where he was going. Every so often he would glance at her. Something was definitely wrong.

Are you all right? she asked gently one lesson. It had been nearly two weeks since term started.

Why would you care, Granger? he said coldly, measuring out six drops of essence of belladonna in their cauldron for the dreamless sleep potion the class was concocting to replenish Madam Pomfrey's stock.

You just don't seem like yourself. Hermione took her eyes off the asphodel roots she was slicing and looked up at him.

It's none of your business, is it? Malfoy put down the vial and eyedropper on the bench and glared at her.

she replied quietly, turning back to the roots. It just that She couldn't think of what to say.

Just keep your abnormally large head out of it, Granger.

Well, at least that seemed normal.

The contents of the cauldron turned bright red as the asphodel roots where added.

It was a week later, late in January, when something completely un-normal happened.

Hey Granger, can I ask you something? Malfoy and Hermione were sitting in the library working on a Potions assignment that was due the next week. They sat at right angles to each other, at a table a little way from Madam Pince's desk. Hermione liked the idea of being quite in the open when she was with Malfoy, in case he went mental, as Ron put it.

The two of them had gotten nowhere on the assignment, and Hermione was getting frustrated, and she thought she was also getting the flu.

Why are you being nice me?

Well, I've treated you like dirt for over five and a half years, and then suddenly, completely out of the blue you start acting concerned about me last week why did you do that? You're being well, polite to me. Well, except that first Potions lesson this term. I just always thought you hated me, he added with a shrug.

Hermione looked at him, his cold eyes staring back into her own, and quietly responded, Hate is an awfully strong word, and I don't think I'd use it to describe what I think when I see you.

So what do you think?

Hermione thought for a moment, making sure to get the words right. I think: why does someone with so much talent feel he has to put down everyone around him in order to feel superior to them, when he's pretty much better than most people already? She wondered why she actually said that. She had just complimented Draco Malfoy, the Boy Who Wished Her Dead.

I don't know.

They both just sat there in silence, processing the last few minutes' worth of conversation.

Malfoy stared at her for a moment. Then he looked at his watch. I've got Quidditch practice. We'll finish this sometime next week. He picked up his books and started walking away.

It's due Wednesday, Hermione called after him.

I wasn't talking about the assignment.

Hermione frowned as she watched him leave.

What was that about?

*

It's 3am, Tuesday morning. I'm sitting in the hospital wing, by Hermione's bed, rinsing out a flannel in ice water so I can put it back on her forehead. She's had a fever since just before dinner tonight. Last night. She had the flu all weekend then this afternoon – yesterday afternoon – she just collapsed in the common room. Harry and I brought her up here, but he went to bed about 2 hours ago. So did Madam Pomfrey. She told me to do this flannel thing if she heats up again. She gave Hermione all the usual potions, even Muggle medicine, but there's really nothing else you can do for a fever like this. Hermione's having hallucinations. She's moaning. The fever is burning her up. I'm scared out of my mind.

I whisper, wiping her face with the cold flannel, You'll be ok.

I kiss her on the top of her forehead. Her skin is so warm under my lips.

I don't think she knows I'm here.

6pm, Wednesday night. I've been here all afternoon. Harry was too, but he's got training. He said I could stay. I didn't sleep at all Monday night and hardly any last night so I'd be no good anyway. Madam Pomfrey said Hermione woke up during the day, but she's been asleep the whole time I've been here. I think Madam Pomfrey gave her a potion so she can rest. Her fever's gone, but she's dehydrated, or something, because she had it for two days, and she's on a drip. Ginny just brought my dinner and some flowers for Hermione and left. She gave me a hug, which was pretty nice of her. I guess she knows how buggered I am.

In the window I see the reflection of someone standing in the doorway. He's holding a bunch of flowers.

I swivel around in my chair to see who it is.

Malfoy.

What the hell is he doing here? He doesn't have any flowers though was I imagining it? I haven't really slept in three days, I must be. There's no way Malfoy would bring Hermione flowers.

What are you doing here? I say coldly.

I came to tell her that I got her an extension for the Potions assignment that was due today. He looks pissed off.

Well she's asleep. I'll tell her.

He glares, then turns on his heel and walks out.

The hours pass.

Madam Pomfrey comes in to check on Hermione, and then at 1am tells me she's going to sleep but to wake her up if anything is wrong. You are a wonderful friend to her, Mr Weasley.

A little later.

Hermione stirs and she opens her eyes slowly.

Her voice is hoarse.

I say quietly. How are you feeling?

She nods, Better. My throat hurts, though.

I pick up a bottle of syrupy potion Madam Pomfrey told me to give her if she gets up, and pour out a spoonful.

She eases herself up and drinks the potion, then screws up her face.

I smile. I haven't spoken to her since Monday afternoon.

Thank you, she whispers, putting her head back down on the pillow. How long have you been here?

Since after school.

How much homework do I have?

Don't worry about it.

Hermione winces.

Are you all right? Should I get Madam Pomfrey?

She shakes her head. No, it's just I've missed so much school. I can believe it.

The only thing you should worry about now it getting better.

I had a Potions assignment due today. I wanted to finish it on the weekend but Malfoy was being slack.

He said he got an extension.

Really? From Snape?

I shrug. I guess it helps that he's the teacher's pet.

Hermione smiles a little bit. How long are you going to stay here with me?

Forever.

I shrug again.

She yawns and whispers, I'm really sleepy.

I nod and pull her covers over her.

Thank you, she says again. She takes my hand and squeezes it.

I sit down in the chair besides the bed and watch as she falls asleep again. I'm still holding her hand. She tugs her hand away, and rests it on her stomach, but she's still holding onto mine. My hand moves up and down as she breathes.

I rest my head on the edge of her bed, and feel myself drift off to sleep.

Oh shit, my neck hurts. I look up and see the sun streaming through the window. Hermione is sitting up in her bed, grinning. She's still holding my hand.

Morning, sleepy head. That smile.

What time is it? I mumble.

she replies nonchalantly.

Ten? Oh bugger! I'm late for Transfiguration! I jump up to leave but Hermione pulls me back. Why is she still holding on to my hand?

Not that it's a bad thing.

It's alright, Professor McGonagall, said you can skip it as long as we both go to a catch-up session with her on Sunday.

I can live with that. I rub the back of my neck. Do you want breakfast? I'll go get it for you.

Hermione smiles. Ginny brought it up for us. She grabs a piece of toast with jam on it from the tray on the table beside her with her other hand, the hand that's not holding mine, and gives it too me.

I take a bite. It's cold.

Don't you want to heat it up? she asks.

Nah, I'm right. Heating it up would mean using my wand, and my wand hand is currently preoccupied. I finish the toast and then crick my neck. I let out a bit of a groan.

Hermione lets go of my hand and pats the edge of the bed. Here, sit down and face the door.

I'm rather confused but I do it. She puts her hands to my neck and begins to massage it. Her fingers feel like heaven solidified. It's amazing. Within five minutes the pain is gone.

I say, turning around to face her. Thank you.

She shrugs. There's a physiotherapist who works in the same medical centre as my parents' practice. She smiles again.

I can't talk. My head feels like it's going to blow up and my toast wants to see the light of day again. I look at my watch. I better go, Binns won't do any review sessions for me, I say.

Hermione nods. See you later, Ron.

As I head back to my dorm to get changed, I put my hand up to my neck and try to remember the way Hermione's hands felt on it.

Never knew I could feel like this
It's like I've never seen the sky before
Want to vanish inside your kiss
Every day I love you more and more
Listen to my heart can you hear it sing
Telling me to give you everything
Seasons may change, winter to spring
But I love you until the end of time

*

The Friday night after she got out of the hospital wing, Hermione sat working on the Potions assignment in the library with Malfoy. Snape had asked for it first thing Saturday morning at the latest. Ron and Harry had been hanging around most of the evening, apparently to protect Hermione from Malfoy, but by 11pm Harry convinced Ron to go to sleep by telling him he'd be benched for the Slytherin match if he didn't get to bed at least once that week.

Malfoy, can you pass me 1001 Magical Herbs and Fungi, please? said Hermione, writing furiously, wanting desperately to finish the assignment and go to sleep.

Sitting next to her, Malfoy made no attempt to pick up the book.

Hermione was sick, tired and really didn't want to get annoyed, but she was starting to get frustrated.

Malfoy, the book if you plea – She stopped suddenly as he looked at him and found him staring at her. His grey eyes were glinting like ice. Er, Malfoy?

Oh, right, he said, smiling ruefully and leaning over the pick the book up off the floor beside him.

As Hermione took the book from him, unable to process the image of Malfoy, sitting there in front of her, smirking. Or was of more of a smile?

It was as if the Universe had malfunctioned.

Malfoy moved his hands so that they were now covering Hermione's has she held the large volume. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She was in shock.

Her eyes moved from their connected hands to Malfoy's eyes, and then she couldn't look away.

Oh my God.

Then Hermione felt overcome by a sudden urge to sneeze. Being incredibly confused apparently doesn't stop anyone from being sick. She tried to pull her hands away to reach for a tissue but Malfoy just held onto them.

With a roaring ACHOO, Hermione sneezed, all over Malfoy's hands. His eyes widened with surprise as he let go. It would have been awfully funny if Hermione hadn't been so embarrassed. She picked up the box of tissues and held them out to him, having absolutely no idea about what to say.

Malfoy wiped his hands, and looked at her again. Uh, well, yeah bless you.

They both burst out laughing.

The Universe had malfunctioned.

Madam Pince, shot the two of them a disapproving glare. She appeared to be very annoyed at having to stay so late on a Friday night. Hermione had requested permission from Professor McGonagall to work there after the usual 8pm closing time due to her week off school and the teacher had allowed it just this once.

Hermione and Malfoy quickly stifled their laughter, both grinning madly and pink in the face, and worked a little longer in complete silence.

Hermione didn't dare to look over at Malfoy. She could feel his eyes on her.

Finally, they were finished and mumbled and thanked Madam Pomfrey before heading off to their own common rooms.

Lavender and Parvati were already asleep when Hermione got to her dorm, which was probably a good thing; they would have asked a lot of questions after seeing the odd look on Hermione's face when she open the door.

As she changed into her pyjamas she had a lot more to think about than the massive amount of homework she had to do this weekend.

It didn't make a drop of sense, but Hermione wasn't completely oblivious. Something was going on that wasn't supposed to be.

Draco Malfoy? You've got to be kidding.

How could he ever be interested in her, Hermione Granger, a Muggle-born Gryffindor? And what was she doing thinking about Draco Malfoy being interested in her? Sure, he was probably the best looking boy in the entire Sixth Year and more than likely the whole of Hogwarts, but he was also a boy who came from a very long line of Dark wizards who had hated her for as long as she had known him. Harry and Ron would have been furious if they knew she was thinking about Malfoy. Because that was all she was doing: thinking.

This was too weird.

But the way he looked at her the way his face lit up when he smiled how easy it had been to laugh with him the way she felt when he held her hands

I just can't get you out of my head
Boy your loving is all I think about
I just can't get you out of my head
Boy it's more than I dare to think about
There's a dark secret in me
Don't leave me locked in your heart

The next day, just about everyone in Third Year and above went down to Hogsmeade for the afternoon. Madam Pomfrey had forbidden Hermione to go outside in the cold and so she sat alone in the deserted library, catching up on the work she had missed. While Ron had seemed adamant on staying with her, Hermione insisted that he and Harry go and get her loads of Honeydukes sweets.

After working in complete silence for a little while, she felt someone walk up behind her. Turning around, she found Malfoy standing there with his hands behind his back.

How're you feeling, Granger?

Uh, yes, I'm fine. She felt herself blush. Get a grip, woman. Um, look, I'm really sorry for sneezing all over you last night that was rather awful.

Malfoy shrugged. Hey, at least I can now say than I'm only of only two guys in the world to have exchanged bodily fluids with the future Head Girl of Hogwarts, he said with a smirk.

For one of the few moments in her life, Hermione found herself to be utterly speechless.

Her bewilderment at the situation was accompanied by a million thoughts flying though her head. This couldn't be happening. This shouldn't be happening.

But it was.

Malfoy took his hands out from behind his back and held a pink gerbera out to her.

Hermione was in shock. This is for me? she spluttered.

A flower?! From Draco Malfoy?

Yeah, it's for staying up with me all night on that assignment after being in the hospital wing for a week. Snape marked it straight away when I handed it in this morning, and we got full marks, so thanks.

Oh, you're welcome. Thank you for getting the extension, said Hermione, taking the flower.

It was very hard to believe that what was happening was actually happening.

It was nothing.

Hermione looked at the flower for a moment, and, her mind still muddled, she said the first thing that popped into her head, It's February, where on Earth did you get this?

Looking very self-assured, Malfoy pulled out the chair beside her and sat down. Well Granger, none of your Muggle boyfriends would be able to get a flower like that at this time of year, but you seem to be forgetting that I'm a wizard.

Oh, right and you'd be my wizard boyfr – Hermione's smile suddenly vanished from her face as she realised what she was just about to say.

Malfoy, however, grinned widely. I was wanting to have a chat about that, actually.

Hermione stared at him blankly, too surprised to put any sort of expression on her face.

said Malfoy, I know this is going to seem a bit random after everything, but I think I like being with you. His self-assuredness was slightly faultering.

A bit random? Hermione spluttered again. Un, no shit, Sherlock.

Malfoy smirked. I didn't think you swore, Granger.

In fact, Hermione continued, ignoring Malfoy's comment, considering everything, especially the fact that you've presented very clear evidence supporting the case that you hate me over the past five and a half years, I'd come to the conclusion that you enjoying my company is in fact excruciatingly random.

Malfoy was still grinning. I know. Last night I lay in bed, trying to figure out what the Hell's going on, but I can't explain it.

Hmmm, an X-File. Quick, call Scully and Mulder, Hermione muttered.

Oh, never mind, she sighed, smirking at her own attempted wit and wondering if being best friends with Ron for this long was starting to have a dispersion effect.

Hermione, please. Will you just give me a chance?

A chance? she asked, rather amused at hearing Malfoy use her first name.

Yeah, come to Hogsmeade with me.

I can't, I'm sick, she responded automatically, not quite registering what he'd just asked her.

All right, next time then?

There was a roaring in Hermione's ears. Draco Malfoy, the son of a Death Eater, was asking her out. It was well, to put it plainly, it was wrong.

Malfoy, this makes no sense whatsoever! Hermione hissed. She was most certainly in shock. I mean, I'm a Gryffindor and you're a Slytherin –

I went out with both Lavender and Parvati last year, Malfoy countered.

Hermione rolled her eyes and groaned. Then she looked at him again and narrowed her eyes. You are a Malfoy and I I'm a Mudblood, she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

He was Draco Malfoy, who had spent so long making almost racist remarks to her. He was Draco Malfoy who had proclaimed that he wished her dead on several occasions. He was Draco Malfoy who had given her a flower and just asked her out.

He was Draco Malfoy who looked down at his lap, purposely moving his gaze away from Hermione's eyes.

I've always been under the impression that a leopard can never change its spots, Hermione said coolly. If she was going to be some new conquest of his, to Hell with him. She'd been polite to him this term because she had no choice but to work with him.

Malfoy turned his face completely away from her.

Then in one swift move, he raised himself out of the chair, knocking it to the ground, and proceeded to walk stiffly out of the library.

For a split second, Hermione watched his retreating back; then before she could even think about it, she followed him, breaking into a jog to catch up with his long strides. She caught his upper arm, and with all her strength forced him to turn and face her.

His normally pale face was tinged with pink, and he was blinking furiously.

She narrowed her eyes again as she stared at him. What's going on, Malfoy?

Silence.

When he finally spoke, his was tone harsh and forced. Last week, you asked me if everything was all right. Well it's not, something is wrong. And I guess it's this. This is wrong. I'm sorry for wasting your time.

With that, he wrenched his arm out of Hermione's grip, and stormed out of the library. Hermione stood staring at the empty doorway in a stunned silence.

*

Continued in Part Two

Author's Note: I just wanted to mention (to anyone who was wondering) that while my plans are to eventually expand this universe' through sequels and side stories (currently including Complete and Simple), this story will not delve into the War against the Dart Arts – that will be covered in the upcoming sequel, The Dragon's Journey (which I've already started writing), which will deal with what happens to Draco (duh) and everyone else after the final scene of this fic. (I've grown quite fond of Widdle Dwakie in this, so I figured he needed his own screen-time...) For some background of what's been happening in this universe though, let's just say that Voldemort lost some messy battles in 5th Year but wasn't actually defeated entirely and is recuperating somewhere... hence all is quiet for the period of this story – this's just a mushily-fluffy romance, with a bit of angst thrown in for fun... the Action/Adventure stuff can wait... :)

Credits – Songs (in order of appearance)
-- Just The Thing – Paulmac f. Peta Morris//3000 Feet High (2001)
-- Come What May – Ewan McGregor//Moulin Rouge OST (2001)
-- Can't Get You Out Of My Head – Kylie Minogue//Fever (2001)

Disclaimer – All characters and events you recognise from Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling (aka The Goddess)
I own nothing except the plot. Cheers :o)