I do not own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy (much to my disappointment -- I would love an older version), or any of the others that go along with the Harry Potter series. They belong to J. K. Rowling. I have written this fanfiction for fun, not profit. I don't have any money. =P

Return to Hogwarts

Chapter 05

What an odd dream, thought Hermione hazily. It wasn't that she hadn't had dreams like this before. She'd had dreams about kissing. Of course, none of them had her kissing Draco Malfoy. Somehow, even though she felt that she should be repulsed, she wasn't.

The oddest part, however, was not the lack of disgust. It was the applause. Time to wake up, it seemed, before she started dreaming of dancing pink baboons. So she opened her eyes.

Unfortunately, they were met with a pair of gray eyes. She stared, and then became aware of the fact that the clapping had not in any way diminished. If anything, it became more tumultuous. She cleared her throat slowly, then blinked. It didn't work. His face, including his trademark smirk, was still there. Her heart sank.

For a brief, wild moment, she thought perhaps this was one of those dreams where you thought you woke up but you really hadn't and so she did the only thing that she could've gotten away with in her dream. She slapped that perfect, cold beauty in front of her, her hand connection firmly with a resounding crack.

The applause stopped, and there was a collective gasp from everyone around. The handprint, which showed her five slender fingers perfectly, rapidly became a vivid red mark on his pale cheek. She watched it spread to color the whole of his face in morbid fascination.

No, this wasn't a dream. Time to do the thing that most animals, human or not, do in situations like this… FLEE! Hermione threw whatever was left of her dignity out the window and ran out of the Three Broomsticks. She stumbled on the dirt street, skinned her knees, but she picked herself up and kept on going. What the hell was she thinking? Standing inside of the damned pub snogging that damned bastard for all he was worth? It was enough to make her scream!

And what if someone saw? She stopped, panting. What do you mean 'what if someone saw?' The whole stupid school did! Well, okay, not the whole school, but a good portion of the older students did. She took a few deep breaths.

I kissed Draco Malfoy. The thought rolled around in her head, and finally she said it out loud. "I kissed Draco Malfoy." Her voice was small, wavering. However, the words did not, contrary to popular belief, leave a bad taste in her mouth. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I kissed Draco Malfoy. I kissed him full on the mouth, and, all-in-all, it wasn't a bad experience." There! Her voice had more of the commanding tone that she had adapted for use in her teaching.

Feeling a bit more in control of herself, she started back towards Hogwarts at a walk. After a few steps she got the distinct feeling that she was being followed. She paused, pretending to adjust her clothes. Holding her breath, she listened very carefully for any noises outside of the normal rustling of leaves or people talking back in the village. A pause, and then a crunching noise was heard. Very careful, very deliberate footsteps were being placed towards her. She grabbed her wand, turned, and thrust it out. "I've got a wand!"

"And I've got your lipstick smudged on me," Draco drawled.

Damn it. Of all the people in all the world, it had to be Malfoy! "I don't wear lipstick," she managed to reply, even though she was shaking. She felt her face get hot.

He licked his lips slowly. She could see them glistening faintly in the moonlight if she looked hard enough. Not that she was looking hard at his lips. "Hmm. I take that back. I'd say it was grape-flavored lip-gloss. Never thought you to be the grape kind. Always imagined you as a, hm," he regarded her thoughtfully before continuing, "vanilla sort. And, by the way it managed to wear from your lips to mine, I'd say it was made by muggles. Wizard stuff never smudges, you know. Then again, you were kissing me rather soundly."

If she hadn't already done it once, she would've slapped him again. As it was, though, she still saw the flaming red mark on his face. She wondered at that; she knew he was talented enough to mutter a simple charm and make his face spotless once again. "Push off, Malfoy," she said half-heartedly. She really did not want to have a scene right here in the open. Well, at least, as open as a street was at nighttime. A street that was kind of off the way and not really near anything. Okay, fine, they weren't in the open, not really, but she didn't want to have a row either way!

"What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked, taking a step towards her. His eyes glinted with an odd light.

"Stop it." Her voice sounded unnatural, strained. She wondered what it was exactly that had just made her mouth go dry and her heart start beating a little faster. It was fear. Fear, plain and simple. Yup. No bit of longing or lust in her body, no way sir. Was there?

She never got the chance to fully ponder this line of thought as Draco pressed his lips against hers forcefully, reminiscent of the way that she had to his minutes earlier. She struggled briefly, then gave in. As soon as she did, it became softer, more gentle. And, just as she was beginning to get really into it, he shoved her away.

She clutched at a fence post, desperately trying to get her breath back while looking like nothing was bothering her. The moonlight had shifted, leaving Draco's face shadowed and indistinct. She had the feeling that he was avoiding looking at her. "What are you playing at?" she growled, suddenly angry. She released her grip on the post, ignoring her protesting knuckles, and planted her hands on her hips.

What he did next was, unknown to him, the absolute worst thing he could've done in this situation. He laughed. "Oh, Granger, you are amusing! What am I playing at? What are you playing at? First you give me a strip tease, and then you try to suck the life out of me! Tsk!"

"Damn you, Malfoy," she growled. She turned to walk off -- this time with dignity, she hoped.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the entire incident. Though Christmas came and went, word was still buzzing about Hermione and Draco's kiss. He'd left right after Christmas, but where to, she didn't know. She was avoiding him like the plague and, thanks to a few well-placed locking charms, it wasn't that hard. She didn't know if he had looked for her at all; she was afraid and embarrassed to ask. And, it seemed that her embarrassment would not end simply with the ending of his visit.

"Albus, I really must insist that this type of behavior is unacceptable!" Snape exclaimed.

Hermione tried to sink into her seat. The fact that it was wooden did nothing to help her at all. The greasy git would just have to try to get her into trouble about this, wouldn't he?

"Not, Severus, Hermione is a professor, not a student," Dumbledore interjected.

"But making out in the midst of Hogwarts students is hardly something that a respectable professor would do." Snape glared at Hermione. She pressed her lips together firmly, refusing to rise to his jibe.

"All right, all right," Minerva said. "We hear you, Severus."

"Do you have anything that you would like to say, Hermione?" Albus asked her kindly.

She hated this whole deal. Severus was the only one who had seen fit to make a scene, and indeed he did. She couldn't quite understand why it bothered the Potions Master, but she didn't really care too much. She cleared her throat. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," she started in her best know-it-all voice. "I don't see where it is anyone's business, least of all yours, Severus, as to who I kiss. There weren't that many students there, and the ones who were certainly have seen snogging in their lives before. I did not molest or ravage the man."

There was a slight coughing noise from the general direction of McGonagall, but it was so faint that Hermione couldn't quite be sure. There was a long silence after that.

Snape broke it by sputtering indignantly. His face had been darkening slowly after her words, but at this point it was crimson. "How dare you talk to me like that!"

"You know," Hermione said, warming up, "I have put up with your rather rude behavior since I got here! And I've just about had it! Yes, I was your student. Yes, I am young. But I was also one of the highest scoring student in the history of Hogwarts, Muggle or not! So don't give me this whole bullshit" -- tsking from Minerva -- "about this having anything to do with my snogging Draco! This has to do with whatever grudge you've held against me. If it's for being a Gryffindor, or for being friends with Harry Potter, I don't know! But I do know that I've had it! I tried to be pleasant to you, but that apparently was too hard for you to comprehend. So now I'm through with it, and with you. Leave me alone, Severus Snape!"

All of the assembled teachers stared at her. Professor Dumbledore's lips quirked and his eyes might've twinkled, but she wasn't looking at him. She was staring at Snape, her chocolate colored eyes almost black with anger. He was staring back just as hard, but his face was slowly draining of all color. "I think, Miss Granger, that you are out of line," his reply came, thick with rage.

"No, Snape, it is you out of line. I am a professor here, and as such, I deserve some respect. You may not like me, you may not think I'm old enough, but I am here and I'm here to stay."

He glared at her, and through her. When that didn't work, he swept out of the room, his robe billowing dramatically. She sighed and slumped down in her chair before realizing she was still in a meeting with the other teachers. She cleared her throat. "I do apologize for that," she started awkwardly.

"No need, Hermione. We understand," Minerva said, patting her hand.

"I do know that what I did was not appropriate, but I do not think it inappropriate, either." She broke off with a sigh.

"It's quite all right, Hermione," Albus reinforced what McGonagall had said. He patted her shoulder, opposite of where Minerva was still patting her hand. She would've glared up at them suspicious, but hardly thought it wise in her situation. She settled for shifting uneasily.

"Well, now, since that's all over, how about we go have a nice cup of tea?" Dumbledore said to the room in general. There was a murmur of agreement, and they all filed out.

Well, that certainly was interesting, she reflected.

Draco Malfoy had, at least, escaped Hermione's fate. He was sealed back up in Malfoy Manor, his usually impeccable clothing replaced with frayed, old robes. If only his old schoolmates could see him now. His hair, which most people would've thought glued in place eternally, was every bit as mussed as Potter's could be on a bad day. And this was indeed one of those days.

He was brooding. Nobody could brood like a Malfoy, especially one who thinks that he has a reason to do so. It was lonely, and though the fire was warm, there was a chill in the air. He never would admit to it, but he missed his mother. Perhaps Narcissa was weak in some ways, but she always did care for him. Sort of. Well, as much as she could with Lucius demanding her attention every five minutes. Either way, she always sent him sweets while he was at school and lovely little notes. And now she was in St. Mungo's, probably conversing about daisies with the Longbottoms. Damn Lucius!

Draco's thin lips curved into a sneer. It was his only friend in times like these, that sneer. It had served him well over the years. And now, it turned its powers upon the fireplace. The fireplace ignored it. Draco sighed.

"Will Master Malfoy be wanting anything else?" a miscellaneous house elf wearily asked Draco, knowing that the pale man was again in one of his moods.

"No, you can go retire for the night." The words slipped out before he could stop them, and he knew the instant they were out he would be regretting them.

"Oh, no sir! Middie must be doing the housework, sir! You will not find Middie lax on the job, sir!" the house elf shot out, and then started rambling out all of her duties.

"Okay, okay, okay," Draco interrupted, holding up a slender hand. He watched the light from the flames dance on it for a second, and then motioned for the dirty creature to leave him. He wondered briefly why she never took a bath, then shrugged to himself. At least she didn't stink.

He sipped tentatively at a small glass of scotch on the rocks. Though he detested the stuff he still forced himself to choke down enough on nights like these to slip into a dreamless sleep at the end of the night. No magic managed to do the same thing as the simple, Muggle-brewed drink. The fact that it tasted worse than some of the joke candies from Zonko's did nothing to lessen his determined drinking.

Tonight, however, he was going almost easy on the foul stuff. His mind shifted back and forth like quicksilver. Topics were given a cursory glance and then discarded. The ones with a bit more interest were filed for later on in the night, when he could sulk on the brink of alcohol-induced slumber.

As the night wore on, those thoughts became more prominent. His mind wandered, not for the first time, to the Muggle born Hermione. He couldn't bring himself to say mudblood anymore, not even in his mind.

A few years ago he hadn't even thought of the possibility of kissing her. Okay, maybe a few times here and there the thought popped up, but it was more of an arrogant 'Granger would be lucky if I did' type of thought. And now, after a brief stay at Hogwarts in his school governor capacity, he had not only kissed her but got to see her naked. Well, anyway, part of her. It was a very nice part. One that he wouldn't mind seeing again.

And therein lay the problem. He didn't want to have thoughts like these. He was, for the moment, sexless. That's not to say that he was any less male. He permitted a wry smile to touch his lips, but it soon vanished. He needed to clear his head, to get thoughts of her out of it.

But, unfortunately, it seemed that the little witch had him bewitched. Damn it.

This was going to be damaging to his Muggle-hating reputation. Then again, he hadn't had that reputation for a while. He did help to defeat Voldemort and Lucius. Somehow, that seemed to erase all the wrong-doings that Draco had committed, at least, in some people's minds. It didn't in Draco's. And he doubted that it had changed his standing in Hermione's list, despite their talk and kiss.

He gritted his teeth. It would never be good enough, would it?

Working for redemption is great, so long as you don't expect to actually receive any.