Chapter 3: Bestowing the Gift of Draco's Revenge

These characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

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Hermione did not even know how she reached her room.  She was spinning in circles with her arms outstretched.  What a kiss!  Who would've ever thought Harry was so….tender.

She fell backwards onto her four-poster.  At first her hand could not find its target, but after feeling around, she felt the corner of the page between the mattress and her headboard.  She smiled pulling out her "Things to Accomplish" list.  She had an item to check off.  Her eyes narrowed when she looked at the writing on the paper.  This wasn't her list.  "Wait a minute, if I am not mistaken, this is Ron Weasley's handwriting."  Reading the letter she felt her joy ebb away.  "Ron, why didn't you ever tell me?  What a bloody mess."  There was no way of not hurting her dearest friends…she would have to make a choice.

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Draco checked his reflection in the shop window.   He immediately wiped away a couple of dark smudges from his face.  Traveling by floo powder was a quick and dirty way to travel great distances when time was an issue.  It was also a common way for the low class wizards, such as the Weasleys.  His father, Lucius, would have been furious.  Draco didn't lose time with the thought; his father had taught him that Malfoys always win by whatever means necessary.  And he did plan on winning—he imagined the pain he would inflict on Potter--losing both his best friend and the mudblood he loves.  His thumb pressed down the snake carved latch opening the door to the shop.

Dex Clune had been the proprietor of The Dragon Heart for decades, a shop that pedaled charms on the edge of Diagon Alley.  He didn't practice dark magic, but his items certainly bordered the line between dark magic and acceptable magic.  Dex knew from experience how to quickly sum up a customer's paying potential.  The young boy in front of him reeked of wealth from his fine garments to his imported shoes.  He rubbed his hands together envisioning the financial transaction about to take place.

"What can I do for you, young sir?"

"I was wondering if you happen to carry the necklace of Clea, the Ruler of the Moon?"  Draco did not enjoy talking to such an obvious inferior.

Clune's eyes narrowed, "I do indeed, but for quite a bit of money.  Are you sure you know what you are asking for, young man?"

"Just get the necklace old man, I will pay your price."

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Draco opened the box before a stunned Hermione.  She never expected she would agree to meeting Draco near the Great Hall, but he had sent word that her failure to do so would cause great pain to Harry and Ron.  She had already caused them both too much pain.  Deciding that such a meeting could come to no harm, after all the Great Hall was common ground for everyone living at Hogwarts, she confidently approached him.  Slowly her confidence and self-assurance evaporated as she saw Malfoy fingering a small jewelry box.

Immediately, her eyes were drawn to the sparkling ancient relic.  What era was this from?  Was the sparkling light shattering into a prism of colors?  She tried to blink, but only stood with her eyes transfixed on the gem.

"Speechless?" Malfoy asked pleased.  He could see his gold had been well spent.  "Allow me."  He fastened the necklace around Hermione's neck. 

At that moment, Hermione became obsessed with kissing Draco.  She reached both hands around his neck and closed her eyes.  She could still see the shards of color in her mind.  Draco was satisfied.  If only Potter were here to witness this crowning moment of victory, but then there would be time for that later.  Would he actually kiss this mudblood?  "Well, why not."  Closing his eyes, he met Hermione's lips.

Hermione felt a strange electricity consume her, growing stronger each second the kiss continued.  Draco too felt the same electricity engulfing his body.  He had kissed plenty of girls, but perhaps kissing a muggle born was…he had a hard time focusing his thoughts.  In the back of his mind was an intense hatred—that was Potter and an echo of VICTORY—REVENGE, SO SWEET."  Then the strange electricity grew increasingly stronger and it began to melt his thoughts.  The echo of revenge faded from his mind, as if it never existed.  Instead all he could think of was his longing for the girl in his arms, this girl who was his choice, his…love.

"Hem, hem.  Mister Malfoy and Miss Granger", Professor McGonagall's interruption demanded immediate attention.  "I believe that the two of you are due in Defense Against the Dark Arts, are you not?"

"Yes, Professor.", both mumbled through their embarrassment.

"Furthermore, public displays of such a passionate nature are unseemly, ten points from Gryffindor and Slytherin.  In the future, please show some restraint."

"Yes, professor." They both spoke in unison again.  Without any further delay, they both took off under the archway.  A few steps later, they reached out for each other's hand and laughed.

"Hormones!", sighed Professor McGonagall, shaking her head.  She felt uneasy with this puzzling development.  She had never known of any pairing between someone from Gryffindor and Slytherin.  She had always believed such a pairing unlikely due to the difference in characteristics found in people from the two houses.  "Perhaps this is a crush; opposites attract."  Yet a worry persisted, such an unwise match could end in pain or destruction.