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Chapter 2.
Draco and Hermione stared at each other. Draco recovered from the shock first.
"It would have been better if you had have said 'Oh, my God!'," he said lazily. "Much more accurate."
Hermione's nerves were already at breaking point. She recovered enough to say tartly, "No, I'm pretty sure I was right in saying oh shit."
Draco's eyes glinted with something like approval. She was obviously angry, he noted, but there was something beyond that. Sadness, a feeling that she'd been manipulated somehow. Hmmm. But why did he care? She was Granger, she was Potter and Weasley's best friend, and she was a Mudblood. But there was something there . . . a determination to go down with all guns blazing.
But why was she going down? He hadn't started on her - yet. "What's wrong?" he asked in a drawl. "Scared of me, hey?" he moved closer and tipped her face so the firelight reflected off it. Suddenly he dropped his hand in surprise.
Tears. She'd been crying. Something twisted inside of him - a sense of shock mingled with satisfaction. So something could touch nerves-of-steel- only-show-angry-emotions Granger. Something could make her sad.
"What happened?" he asked quietly.
Hermione stared at him. Yeah, right. Like she was going to tell self- obsessed-jerk-off-in-love-with-Pansy Malfoy. Whatever.
"Like I'm going to tell you, you son of a bitch." she snapped. She dashed away the tears that still lurked around her eyes.
"Actually, you've seen my mother, and she's human." he replied easily. Hermione glared. She'd be willing to dipute that, but she had seen his mother, and she was human.
"Like I care. Go away. Now!" she snapped when he hesitated. He turned, and she saw a smile play over his thin lips.
"Actually, I was here first. So you'll just have to cope - or you can leave, but either way, I'm staying. It doesn't bother me."
He looked so smug and - and - snobby that Hermione gasped. "You arrogant, conceited bastard!" she choked, starting to cry again.
Draco looked at her. She was crying again. Hmmm. "No, actually. My parents were married. You know, you never did tell me what was wrong."
"I'm not going to," she snapped. Ok then. Change of plan.
"Then I'll guess." She flinched, but Draco kept going. "Ok. It's something to do with Potter and Weasley is my first guess." She loked even worse, so he decided that he was right. "Weasley is my second, since you two were an item."
"Were," she whispered. Aha!
"Ron ditched you," he guessed finally.
"No," she said dully. "Ron cheated on me. I ditched him."
Hermione had about five seconds to register her astonishment. She had just told Malfoy (Oh God!)of all people. But he was looking just as astonished as her. Whether he hadn't explected her to tell him or that Ron would cheat on her, she didn't know. She stared at him defiantly for as long as she could, but eventually it all became to much for her. She omved carefully and sat by the fire, far enough away to keep him at a distance, bbut close enough to get warm She'd only just noticed how cold the castle was. When she chanced a half glance up, he was still staring at her. She buried her face in her knees.
"How?" Malfoy asked finally.
"What does it matter to you?" Hermione asked scathingly. "You've spent five years calling me, Harry and Ron names and now you just want me to forget and tell you everything, which would probably end up in the Slytherin common room anyway!"
"Look, I don't care what you think," Malfoy said finally. His mind was whirling. At last! Here was something forbidden by everyone! His father would kill him - quite literally - if he became friends with a Mudblood, and Potter and Weasley wouldn't wait for an opportunity to smash his face in if he was nice to Granger! But he had to be careful about it.
"Well, I do." God, she was stubborn.
"Once again, Hermione, I don't. Now tell me, or I'll do something you really won't like." he threatened.
He could see her shock. He'd never called her by name before, and mixing it with a threat had scared her. She stared into the fire.
"Well?"
"Ok, Ok," she gave in. "I'll tell you. Ron went to visit Charlie in the holidays. Obviously in Romania the rules are a lot less strict, so he had access to a lot of clubs. That's where he met all those 'gorgeous Romanian chicks' I suppose," her voice was full of a bitterness that he'd never noticed before. "He was bragginh to the others when I got there. Lost track of how many he got with. Jerk." her tale finished, she buried her face in her knees again. "How could he?' she asked, voice muffled by her robes. "I trusted him!"
"Don't know why," Draco said. "I mean really. You knew what he was like."
"No, I didn't. And what do you mean by that?"
"I don't know." he grinned at her. "Just trying to make you feel better."
"Malfoy -"
"You could call me Draco."
"Draco, then." she amended. "We are not friends. We are supposed to be enemies. You can't just act like we're best buddies or something."
"But I'd like to be friends, Hermione," he said seriously, searching her eyes. All the while he was thinking, come on, take the bait. I need you to do this...
"How can I trust you?" she asked finally.
"Give me a day," he replied. "Look at it this way: I know stuff that could really spread. As it is, the Gryffindors will spread it around to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. But nobody would tell the Slytherins. So, if they've all found out by tomorrow, it was me. If they haven't, you'll know I've kept my mouth shut."
"Yes, but you could tell them not to say anything," Hermione replied. god, this girl had an anwer for everything. It was no wonder she was the leader of their little group. Nobody could win an argument against her.
"Have you ever tried to get Pansy to shut up about anything? Or Blaise Zabini? God, one of the requirments for Slytherin should be a big mouth. You can't shut a Slytherin up unless you are the one you want to shut up."
"Well..." Hermione drew out. "Ok. We'll see."
"Good," Draco replied. "Now, it might be a good idea if we went to bed. It's almost -" a clock chimed somewhere -" it is midnight. 'Night Hermione."
"Bye Draco," she said quietly. She swept out of the room, robes billowing and prefects badge shining. Draco stared after her with an expression of triumph. He'd done it!
So why did he feel bad?
* * *
The next morning Hermione hurried down for breakfast slightly late. Great example for a Prefect to set, she thought angrily. But her attention was diverted the minute she set foot into the Great Hall. Two sights caught her eye. One was Malfoy - Draco. He wwas sitting in the middle of his huddle of Slytherins, but they didn't seem to be talking about anything in particular and nobody turned to laugh at her. Draco looked up slightly and gave her an inconspicious wink. She smiled back slightly and looked at the Gryffindor table in surprise. That had been the other thing.
Every Gryffindor was bunched up against one end of the table - except one. Ron was sitting at one end of the long table, completely by himself. He looked up as Hermione passed.
"Hermione, we have to talk," he said hopefully. She just kept walking. Harry had saved her a space and she slid into it gratefully.
"What's going on?" she asked curiously.
"What, you mean how come Ron's all by himself?" Harry replied. He grinned. "Well, none of us guys were talking to him after last night, and then Seamus told Parvati and Lavender. I told the Quidditch team, and Colin Creevey told Ginny, who told the rest of her year. It's spread pretty much like that. So the whole house knows, and I think someone told McGonagall. So she'll tell the rest of the staff."
"Wow," Hermione whispered. A little voice inside her head was saying, Malfoy was right! "So - so nobody's talking to him?"
"Nup," third year Dennis Creevey said excietedly. "It's starting to spread to the other houses as well. So Ron's pretty much by himself."
"Hmm," she said nervously. "That'll look pretty mean, won't it? I mean, if no-one's talking to him because of me, won't it lok like I tried to get everyone on my side?"
"Hermione!" Ginny Weasley almost shouted. "You can't do that! The only reason anyone would start talking to him again would be if you forgave him! You can't!"
"Gee, Ok. But I'd think you'd be nicer," Hermione replied in surprise.
"Nah," Ginny said proudly. "I like you better - and Harry." She laughed and Harry put an arm around her waist.
Well, at least there's one happy couple, Hermione thought.
*** *** ***
Draco stood up just as Hermione left with the rest of the Gryffindors. Pansy clutched at his arm.
"Draco, where are you going?" she simpered. "I was right in the middle of telling you about my party and why you should have gone."
"I'll be back in a second," he said, pulling his arm away and trying not to grimace. But ... it was Pansy. Shudder.
He caught up with Hermione and pulled on the back of her robes. She turned and he caught her surprised glance before tugging her into a deserted corridor. The one that led to the kitchens.
"Well?" he asked.
"Well what?" she replied. "I've got to hurry, I've got transfiguration and McGonagall will kill me."
"Ok. But, see, I didn't tell anyone. It was spread by the people in your house. and by the way, sucked in to Ron."
Hermione was forced to believe this was true. "Not yet, but you have a whole day." she stopped, frowning thoughtfully. "But I'll tell you what. You're on trial."
He felt ... grateful somehow. "Thankyou Hermione," he said, and meant it. Both ways. He was only frustrated that she didn't rush blindly into trust. But she'd made that mistake before, and wasn't about to make it again. "I'd better go."
"Me too," Hermione said, and walked off, wondering if she was completely mad.
Chapter 2.
Draco and Hermione stared at each other. Draco recovered from the shock first.
"It would have been better if you had have said 'Oh, my God!'," he said lazily. "Much more accurate."
Hermione's nerves were already at breaking point. She recovered enough to say tartly, "No, I'm pretty sure I was right in saying oh shit."
Draco's eyes glinted with something like approval. She was obviously angry, he noted, but there was something beyond that. Sadness, a feeling that she'd been manipulated somehow. Hmmm. But why did he care? She was Granger, she was Potter and Weasley's best friend, and she was a Mudblood. But there was something there . . . a determination to go down with all guns blazing.
But why was she going down? He hadn't started on her - yet. "What's wrong?" he asked in a drawl. "Scared of me, hey?" he moved closer and tipped her face so the firelight reflected off it. Suddenly he dropped his hand in surprise.
Tears. She'd been crying. Something twisted inside of him - a sense of shock mingled with satisfaction. So something could touch nerves-of-steel- only-show-angry-emotions Granger. Something could make her sad.
"What happened?" he asked quietly.
Hermione stared at him. Yeah, right. Like she was going to tell self- obsessed-jerk-off-in-love-with-Pansy Malfoy. Whatever.
"Like I'm going to tell you, you son of a bitch." she snapped. She dashed away the tears that still lurked around her eyes.
"Actually, you've seen my mother, and she's human." he replied easily. Hermione glared. She'd be willing to dipute that, but she had seen his mother, and she was human.
"Like I care. Go away. Now!" she snapped when he hesitated. He turned, and she saw a smile play over his thin lips.
"Actually, I was here first. So you'll just have to cope - or you can leave, but either way, I'm staying. It doesn't bother me."
He looked so smug and - and - snobby that Hermione gasped. "You arrogant, conceited bastard!" she choked, starting to cry again.
Draco looked at her. She was crying again. Hmmm. "No, actually. My parents were married. You know, you never did tell me what was wrong."
"I'm not going to," she snapped. Ok then. Change of plan.
"Then I'll guess." She flinched, but Draco kept going. "Ok. It's something to do with Potter and Weasley is my first guess." She loked even worse, so he decided that he was right. "Weasley is my second, since you two were an item."
"Were," she whispered. Aha!
"Ron ditched you," he guessed finally.
"No," she said dully. "Ron cheated on me. I ditched him."
Hermione had about five seconds to register her astonishment. She had just told Malfoy (Oh God!)of all people. But he was looking just as astonished as her. Whether he hadn't explected her to tell him or that Ron would cheat on her, she didn't know. She stared at him defiantly for as long as she could, but eventually it all became to much for her. She omved carefully and sat by the fire, far enough away to keep him at a distance, bbut close enough to get warm She'd only just noticed how cold the castle was. When she chanced a half glance up, he was still staring at her. She buried her face in her knees.
"How?" Malfoy asked finally.
"What does it matter to you?" Hermione asked scathingly. "You've spent five years calling me, Harry and Ron names and now you just want me to forget and tell you everything, which would probably end up in the Slytherin common room anyway!"
"Look, I don't care what you think," Malfoy said finally. His mind was whirling. At last! Here was something forbidden by everyone! His father would kill him - quite literally - if he became friends with a Mudblood, and Potter and Weasley wouldn't wait for an opportunity to smash his face in if he was nice to Granger! But he had to be careful about it.
"Well, I do." God, she was stubborn.
"Once again, Hermione, I don't. Now tell me, or I'll do something you really won't like." he threatened.
He could see her shock. He'd never called her by name before, and mixing it with a threat had scared her. She stared into the fire.
"Well?"
"Ok, Ok," she gave in. "I'll tell you. Ron went to visit Charlie in the holidays. Obviously in Romania the rules are a lot less strict, so he had access to a lot of clubs. That's where he met all those 'gorgeous Romanian chicks' I suppose," her voice was full of a bitterness that he'd never noticed before. "He was bragginh to the others when I got there. Lost track of how many he got with. Jerk." her tale finished, she buried her face in her knees again. "How could he?' she asked, voice muffled by her robes. "I trusted him!"
"Don't know why," Draco said. "I mean really. You knew what he was like."
"No, I didn't. And what do you mean by that?"
"I don't know." he grinned at her. "Just trying to make you feel better."
"Malfoy -"
"You could call me Draco."
"Draco, then." she amended. "We are not friends. We are supposed to be enemies. You can't just act like we're best buddies or something."
"But I'd like to be friends, Hermione," he said seriously, searching her eyes. All the while he was thinking, come on, take the bait. I need you to do this...
"How can I trust you?" she asked finally.
"Give me a day," he replied. "Look at it this way: I know stuff that could really spread. As it is, the Gryffindors will spread it around to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. But nobody would tell the Slytherins. So, if they've all found out by tomorrow, it was me. If they haven't, you'll know I've kept my mouth shut."
"Yes, but you could tell them not to say anything," Hermione replied. god, this girl had an anwer for everything. It was no wonder she was the leader of their little group. Nobody could win an argument against her.
"Have you ever tried to get Pansy to shut up about anything? Or Blaise Zabini? God, one of the requirments for Slytherin should be a big mouth. You can't shut a Slytherin up unless you are the one you want to shut up."
"Well..." Hermione drew out. "Ok. We'll see."
"Good," Draco replied. "Now, it might be a good idea if we went to bed. It's almost -" a clock chimed somewhere -" it is midnight. 'Night Hermione."
"Bye Draco," she said quietly. She swept out of the room, robes billowing and prefects badge shining. Draco stared after her with an expression of triumph. He'd done it!
So why did he feel bad?
* * *
The next morning Hermione hurried down for breakfast slightly late. Great example for a Prefect to set, she thought angrily. But her attention was diverted the minute she set foot into the Great Hall. Two sights caught her eye. One was Malfoy - Draco. He wwas sitting in the middle of his huddle of Slytherins, but they didn't seem to be talking about anything in particular and nobody turned to laugh at her. Draco looked up slightly and gave her an inconspicious wink. She smiled back slightly and looked at the Gryffindor table in surprise. That had been the other thing.
Every Gryffindor was bunched up against one end of the table - except one. Ron was sitting at one end of the long table, completely by himself. He looked up as Hermione passed.
"Hermione, we have to talk," he said hopefully. She just kept walking. Harry had saved her a space and she slid into it gratefully.
"What's going on?" she asked curiously.
"What, you mean how come Ron's all by himself?" Harry replied. He grinned. "Well, none of us guys were talking to him after last night, and then Seamus told Parvati and Lavender. I told the Quidditch team, and Colin Creevey told Ginny, who told the rest of her year. It's spread pretty much like that. So the whole house knows, and I think someone told McGonagall. So she'll tell the rest of the staff."
"Wow," Hermione whispered. A little voice inside her head was saying, Malfoy was right! "So - so nobody's talking to him?"
"Nup," third year Dennis Creevey said excietedly. "It's starting to spread to the other houses as well. So Ron's pretty much by himself."
"Hmm," she said nervously. "That'll look pretty mean, won't it? I mean, if no-one's talking to him because of me, won't it lok like I tried to get everyone on my side?"
"Hermione!" Ginny Weasley almost shouted. "You can't do that! The only reason anyone would start talking to him again would be if you forgave him! You can't!"
"Gee, Ok. But I'd think you'd be nicer," Hermione replied in surprise.
"Nah," Ginny said proudly. "I like you better - and Harry." She laughed and Harry put an arm around her waist.
Well, at least there's one happy couple, Hermione thought.
*** *** ***
Draco stood up just as Hermione left with the rest of the Gryffindors. Pansy clutched at his arm.
"Draco, where are you going?" she simpered. "I was right in the middle of telling you about my party and why you should have gone."
"I'll be back in a second," he said, pulling his arm away and trying not to grimace. But ... it was Pansy. Shudder.
He caught up with Hermione and pulled on the back of her robes. She turned and he caught her surprised glance before tugging her into a deserted corridor. The one that led to the kitchens.
"Well?" he asked.
"Well what?" she replied. "I've got to hurry, I've got transfiguration and McGonagall will kill me."
"Ok. But, see, I didn't tell anyone. It was spread by the people in your house. and by the way, sucked in to Ron."
Hermione was forced to believe this was true. "Not yet, but you have a whole day." she stopped, frowning thoughtfully. "But I'll tell you what. You're on trial."
He felt ... grateful somehow. "Thankyou Hermione," he said, and meant it. Both ways. He was only frustrated that she didn't rush blindly into trust. But she'd made that mistake before, and wasn't about to make it again. "I'd better go."
"Me too," Hermione said, and walked off, wondering if she was completely mad.