Chapter Two- Outburst
Hermione returned to her portrait hole to find an enormous orange tomcat pacing in front of it. the girl in the picture laughed gaily down at the animal as she wove herself a daisy chain.
"Crookshanks!" Hermione exclaimed. "Where have you been, naughty kitty, running off like that? Come see your new rooms!" Hermione picked up her cat, who only blinked in response to her gentle scolding. "Socrates," she said to the daisy girl, and entered her common room as the portrait swung open.
As soon as Crookshanks spotted Ashes curled comfortably in a squashy armchair, his hackles rose slightly and a low growl sounded deep in his throat. He leapt hard from Hermione's arms and trotted purposefully up to the chair where Ashes slept. Crookshanks jumped quietly onto an arm of the chair ready to strike, should the other cat awaken.
Used to simply intimidating whomever he came across, Crookshanks was rather unpleasantly surprised when Ashes opened his eyes, stretched out a paw, and bopped the older cat right on the nose! Crookshanks scrambled backward in alarm and fell off of the chair onto the floor in a very undignified manner. Radiating wounded pride, the cat stalked to the far side of the commons and began to wash himself thoroughly, acting as though nothing at all had happened.
Hermione jumped when an amused laugh rose from another chair. Malfoy. She hadn't even noticed he was in the room, but the laugh surprised her even more. She looked at him closely, studying the icy blonde hair and steel blue-grey eyes, lit now with amusement. His delicate, pale features were almost handsome when he wasn't being nasty, Hermione realized.
"What are you looking at, Granger?" Malfoy drawled. Hermione crossed to her dormitory entrance and looked back at the Slytherin.
"I don't think I've ever heard you really laugh before," she remarked, and entered her own room.
Draco Malfoy sat at his desk, lost in thought, all previous intentions of focusing on homework long forgotten. Never heard me laugh before? he thought angrily. Not like I've had much to laugh at, and anyway, what's a filthy mudblood know about laughing? Even to himself it sounded stupid.
Draco brought his hand down on the solid wood below his arm, making his quill jump. He had to admit, it was getting really hard to think of her as something dirty, meant to be beneath him, especially when she walked in looking like that. She was always so organized and neat, good at everything except Quidditch and- Draco grinned to himself- Divination.
Hermione seemed to have grown into her hair, which was less bushy than in past years, and her genuine smile with straight, now even teeth, was truly attractive. Her clear brown eyes had a certain glow in them that always made him feel like she could see his thoughts. Draco smiled inwardly again. She'd certainly developed quite a figure!
But how could he think of her that way? If he ever said anything to his 'friends' in Slytherin, he'd be ruined! His father would certainly find out and cause, quite literally, a painful scene. Still, Draco couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to curl up with her in front of a fire, with gentle music in the background, to run his fingers through her long, silky hair, and to say her name…
"Hermione," he whispered into the quiet of his room. Draco shivered and returned to his homework, dipping an eagle feather quill into his ink pot. Her name echoed in his mind long into the night.
Hermione crossed the lush green lawn in front of the castle to greenhouse number three for her first Herbology lesson of the year. To her great dismay, she opened the door to find that this year, the class would be taken with the Slytherins. Due to schedule changes, it seemed that Gryffindor now had Potions with Ravenclaw, Care of Magical Creatures with Hufflepuff, and to make Hermione's day that much better, Herbology with the serpent-house.
"Today chaps, we'll be working with the very venomous DeVille aphid. Can anyone tell me what they are and who discovered them?" asked Professor Sprout. Neville Longbottom raised his hand.
"Neville?" called Professor Sprout.
"This oughtta be good," muttered someone behind Hermione. She turned and glared at Malfoy who was sniggering behind his hand.
"The Deville aphid was discovered by Gloriana DeVille in 1854. It was at first thought only to reside in dense sections of the African Congo, but was later found in parts of England, Scotland, and Ireland, showing its remarkable adaptations to temperature variation," he paused and glanced at the Professor, who motioned him to continue.
"This insect is very poisonous to humans and other animals, but its venom is necessary in the maturing process of the Mandrian Begonia, found only in wizarding communities in great Britain. The aphid is attracted to bright colors and irregularly shaped objects. If injured the DeVille aphid magically re-grows or repairs its injury. It becomes irritated when subjected to loud noise."
"Thank you Neville!" Professor Sprout exclaimed cheerfully. "I'm quite impressed! Fifteen points to Gryffindor!" Hermione turned triumphantly to Malfoy who glared sullenly at her.
"I will divide you into pairs for this exercise," Professor Sprout announced. "You will stun the aphids and remove their venom sacs, which we will use to make a substance that can be administered t the castle Begonias. I'm sure you all see the hazards of letting venomous insects loose on the ground. I assure you, the aphids will feel no pain," Professor Sprout assured Lavender, who had paled. "This procedure is in absolute accordance with the Animal Rights Act of 1312. Now, as I call your name, quietly join up with your partner. Weasley, Parkinson…Potter, Zabini…Patil, Bulstrode…Finnegan, Smith…Granger, Malfoy…" Hermione groaned, but turned obediently to Malfoy, whose face was contorted in a look of horror.
Everyone shuffled to desks placed throughout the greenhouse, many partners glaring at each other with intense distaste. On each desk was a cage about the size of a shoebox swarming with black and yellow bugs about as big around as a Knut. The students eyed their respective cages warily.
"Now, I am very well aware of the…erm…animosity between your two houses, and I warn you now, I will not tolerate any arguing or disruption from any o you. Any infraction of the rules will result in a detention. There are many dangerous critters living in this room. Horseplay is potentially life-threatening. Is this understood? Oh, and do watch out for the Tarantacula," she gestured to a large purplish plant behind her. "It's carnivorous and will be inclined to nibble on any flesh tossed its way."
The squat professor looked around. "Please don your dragonhide gloves and begin!" she directed, flapping her arms. There was a flurry of activity, and soon the room was filled with whispers of "Stupefy!" as students stunned their aphids, trying assiduously not to disturb their venomous charges.
"How could she do this?" moaned Malfoy, stunning a handful of aphids.
"Be quiet!" hissed Hermione. "A, you'll get us in trouble. B, you'll excite the bugs!"
"Don't tell me what to do, Mudblood," growled Malfoy.
"No! You're doing it wrong!" Hermione snatched the tiny scalpel Malfoy held and flipped his stunned aphid onto its back. "You cut it here!" She made an infinitesimal cut just behind the aphid's front legs. Then, very carefully, she removed a tiny, iridescent sac with a tiny metal hook especially charmed not to puncture the fragile container of poisonous fluid. She dropped to tiny sac into a glass dish on top of the aphid cage.
"See?" she whispered haughtily. "Like that. Now you try." Malfoy recovered the scalpel and made an incision in the next aphid.
"Why d'ya have to be such a god damn know-it-all?" Malfoy complained. "I can do this by myse-"
"Shhh! The professor's coming!" Professor Sprout approached Malfoy and Hermione's desk.
"What a splendid job you're doing, Mr. Malfoy! I'm very impressed. Take two points for Slytherin. You do that remarkably well," praised Professor Sprout.
"I learned from the best, Professor," Malfoy sneered, looking at Hermione. To his immense surprise, Hermione simply shrugged.
Ha! she thought. Let him figure that one out! Annoyed at not having received a reaction from Hermione, Malfoy began sloppily cutting into more aphids.
"I'll cut, you get the sac. I don't want to spend any more time on this than necessary." he growled.
"Oh, but Malfoy!" Hermione said sweetly. "You do this so well!" Malfoy flushed in anger.
"You-" he was cut off by a nervous-looking Neville.
"You guys, you're disturbing your aphids! Be careful not to get bit-" now he was cut off by a very angry Malfoy.
"Bugger off, Longbottom," Malfoy said turning to him and glaring.
"But what if-" Neville tried again. Malfoy snatched the collar of Neville's robes, pulling him closer.
"I said," he snarled through gritted teeth, "bugger off!" He shoved the other boy away, sending him reeling into none other than the Tarantacula, which quickly began wrapping long magenta tendrils around him, snapping vines.
"Aaaaaaugh!" shrilled Neville, struggling with the large bush. Professor Sprout hurried over to release Neville from the writhing plant. The class watched in disbelief as Malfoy stalked out of the greenhouse, slamming the door behind him.
"The aphids!" gasped Hermione, and the room was a sudden whirl of hurried stunning spells.
"I just can't believe he did that!" Hermione exclaimed to Ron as they walked down to dinner. "He made me so angry!"
"I know, 'Mione," Ron said soothingly. "Try not to let it bother you. He's probably got a load of detentions! How's Neville?" he asked.
"Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let me see him. All she'd say was that 'He's recovering,'" she replied with a sigh.
"I'm sure he is, then. That woman can heal anything!" Ron laughed. Hermione smiled weakly.
When the student body was finally seated, Dumbledore rang for the food to be served, and the hall buzzed with chatter. Many of the younger students were delighted to her of Malfoy's dangerous outburst earlier in the day. Hermione glanced at him once during the meal and he met her eyes sullenly before elbowing Crabbe out of his plate.
As the noise in the Hall lowered, Dumbledore stood. "I hope you all enjoyed your meal. I'm afraid now is the time you must toddle off to your common rooms, with the exception of the Head Boy and Girl. Thank you." Everyone except Hermione and Malfoy leapt up from their seats and poured out of the Great Hall, departing in large groups, laughing and chatting.
Only after the rest of the school had departed did Hermione rise and approach the Head Table apprehensively. Only Dumbledore and Professor Sprout remained. When Malfoy finally stood beside his female counterpart, Dumbledore spoke.
"Mr. Malfoy, it is not often that I am this disappointed in a Hogwarts' student. Mr. Longbottom is now recovering in the hospital from several cuts and bites sustained by the Tarantacula, and two DeVille aphid bites from insects that were startled by your noisy loss of temper. As a result of your direct disobedience of Professor Sprouts directions, you will receive a detention courtesy of out Herbology Professor. At your head-of-house's suggestion, Mr. Malfoy, I have decided that Miss Granger will," he paused and cleared his throat, "accompany you on your assignment."
Harry's mouth dropped open. "You can't be serious! That low-down dirty asshole gets Neville hurt, and you get in trouble?"
"No thanks to Snape," Hermione spat bitterly. "So, I'm stuck going out tomorrow night with Malfoy, of all people…into the Forbidden Forest, no less. At least it's a Saturday night tomorrow. I still can't believe this!"
"You better get some rest, 'Mione," Ron said. "Let me walk you to your room." Harry's sudden coughing fit sounded extremely similar to disguised sniggering.
"Um…" said Hermione.
"I insist," pressed Ron, jumping to his feet. They exited the room together, Ron holding the portrait open for her as she stepped out into the drafty corridor. Awkward silence ensued as the pair walked through the relatively quiet halls. When Hermione and Ron finally reached the daisy portrait, Ron paused.
"Something wrong?" Hermione asked.
"Um, no," Ron answered. "But…could I, um, come in? Id like to um, talk to you."
Oh dear, Hermione thought, but she let him into the common room. "Do you want to sit down?" she offered, patting the seat on the sofa next to her. Ron sat.
"Um, 'Mione, I've been thinking…I really like you, and, um, well…" he paused, gulped, then inched closer to her. "Well, um…well…" He shut his eyes, then leaned forward suddenly and pressed his lips to hers.
Hermione nearly fell of the couch in shock. When he pulled away, she straightened. "Wow, Ron. I, er, had no idea you felt that way," she said tentatively.
"Do you think that you'd go out with me?" Ron asked apprehensively.
"Oh!" Hermione gasped. "I- I'm sorry, Ron, but I don't like you th- that way," she stammered. Ron's face fell.
"S'okay," he muttered. "I understand. I guess, I'd better leave then. Tell Ashes- and Crookshanks –I said hi," he finished lamely. Ron rose and left without looking back.
Hermione slipped miserably into her room, changing into nightclothes with a wave of her wand. She crawled beneath the covers on her bed and stared at the ceiling for a while. So much for rest, she thought, absently petting Ashes. Crookshanks entered later (the portrait and charm on her door had been altered to let the cats in and out) and circled the bed once before hopping onto the windowsill, starlight spilling over his fur. Try as she might, Hermione didn't drift into unconsciousness until several hours later.