Chapter Six
Draco made his way back to the Slytherin fifth-year boys' dormitories nearly half an hour after he finished cleaning. He knew it was probably ridiculously late, but he was too lazy to bother checking. As he climbed into bed and his head hit the pillow, he thought his eyes would shut and he would fall asleep immediately, exhausted as he felt, but there was no such luck to be had. His mind was too active. Draco sighed, knowing exactly what was bothering him, but unwilling to think about it further. Yet it seemed like if he wanted any peace of mind at all, he needed to confront it. There was no denying it any longer that what Draco felt when Hermione brushed against him was nothing other than attraction. But why? He supposed Hermione was rather pretty, in a way, if you could get past all of that bushy hair. But it was more than that. What he had previously seen as an obnoxious, know-it-all attitude, he now saw as one of her most prominent charms, and the traits that set her apart from some of the Slytherin girls Draco was used to. Hermione felt no need to impress him, and she had no reason to simper and whine all over him like Pansy did. Hermione couldn't stand Draco.And therein lay the problem. Draco was the sort of guy who lived for the chase. He liked when girls played hard-to-get, and he enjoyed the challenge of winning them over. But once they were officially "a couple", he lost interest completely. Which, he reckoned, was exactly what he needed to do with Hermione. Because as soon as he had her falling for him, he would get bored and, hopefully, return to his senses. All well and good in theory, but how could he get Hermione to return his feelings? It was going to be difficult. After a few minutes of deep thought, he decided to try a secretive approach. He would act no differently around Hermione. and thank God for that, because he didn't think he could bear to openly flirt with a Gryffindor mud- damn, he'd have to use another word now- in public. But he could send her little anonymous notes and gifts. He almost laughed at how cliché that sounded. But clichés became clichés by being overused- they worked, so people used them over and over. Right? It seemed perfectly logical. The coming weekend was a Hogsmeade weekend, giving him a perfectly convenient way to start his plan. With that settled, his mind was clear. He was convinced that once he won Hermione's affections, he would completely forget about her... and now, he could sleep.
*** The week slid by quickly enough. Their projects were turned in on Friday, and Draco was confident that he would finally get a good grade on a project for Professor Nightshade, as Hermione had done about 99% of the work on the report. The only bit they might have lost points on was when they did the oral presentation, because Hermione hadn't told Draco that she had switched to the defense of werewolves at the last minute. "I can't believe you!" he'd exclaimed when they'd finished. "You didn't tell us that you completely switched the topic around-" "I didn't switch the topic," murmured Hermione as she rummaged through her bookbag. "The report is still about werewolves; I only changed our point of view." Draco scowled. "You made me look like an idiot." Hermione glared at him. "Not exactly a difficult thing to do, is it?" "Nice one, Granger; did you come up with that all by yourself?" Draco scowled again. He knew, if he was ever going to get past this, that he would have to try and be a tiny bit nicer to Hermione. But- the way he was falling for her like mad, and at the same time ready to grab her by the neck and- just- strangle her. Pansy came up behind him at that moment, hands on her hips. "We're going to get points taken off for this, you know," she whined. "I need to get a good grade in this class! If you hadn't decided to take charge and- and- ruin everything-" Hermione gave her a withering look. "Pansy," she began slowly, then shook her head. "It's not worth it." She sighed. "Did it ever occur to either of you that I was the one who wrote the entire essay? Did it? Or how about the fact that I was the one who spent hours in the library over the weekend researching and researching and preparing my data so that I could get a decent grade for all of us?" "Like you had anything better to do over the weekend, Granger," said Draco with a wave of his hand. Mentally, he was kicking himself. You're supposed to be making her like you! Idiot. "Yeah," agreed Pansy with a sniff. Draco glared at her, and she shut her mouth, reminding him once again why he preferred Hermione over the pug- faced little- "If you'll excuse me," said Hermione, slinging her bag over her shoulder, "I have places to be, and I don't have time to discuss this with you." Pansy wrinkled her nose. "What, do you have more classes to go to?" She looked at Draco, expecting to see him smiling approvingly at her lame excuse for an insult. He just closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. "I have to go," he told her. "I'm meeting some people at Hogsmeade in an hour." "Oooh, can I come?" "No," he said flatly. Pansy blinked. "Oh," she said, disappointed. "Well. I guess I'll. see if I can find some of my friends." she finished lamely. "That's nice," said Draco absently, grabbing his notebook and textbook and heading out the door. He was already quite preoccupied.
Chapter Seven
Draco tried his hardest to avoid Crabbe and Goyle following him into Hogsmeade. The last thing I need is those two figuring out. His thoughts trailed off. Even in the privacy of his own mind, he didn't like to admit what he was up to. Although, Crabbe and Goyle probably wouldn't tell anybody. They, and their fathers, were too afraid of Lucius Malfoy. Draco liked to believe that he only put up with them because of his father. But the fact that they were considerably larger than most of the other boys in his year, and seemed to have no minds of their own, thus providing him with a constant, impressive entourage, helped. He left Crabbe and Goyle gulping down butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks and made his way down the street. He found a small jewelry store and walked inside in a bit of a daze, still a bit unsure as to what he intended to do. Madame Selena's Jeweled Enchantments read the ornately designed brass sign that hung above the revolving doors at the entrance. As he walked through, a chiming sound alerted a thin old witch dressed in many layers of gauzy, multicolored robes, who stood up from a chair behind a long glass counter. Her silver-rimmed glasses hung by a purple beaded chain around her neck and she adjusted them onto the tip of her nose, peering at Draco through the narrow frames. "Oh hello there, dear," she said breezily, smiling. "You must be the Malfoy boy." She beamed. "You look just like your father. why, I remember him coming in her when he was your age. buying gifts for his girlfriend. what was her name? Natasha- Narissa-" "Narcissa," muttered Draco absently, squinting at the brightly lit counter, filled with countless pairs of earrings, necklaces, bracelets, rings, and other baubles. "She's my mother." "How sweet!" said the old woman. "I knew he'd win her over eventually, with all those-" Draco was no longer listening. How do I make her shut up? He frowned, and pointed at a beautiful silver bracelet, set with emeralds and tiny diamonds. "Can I see that one?" he asked.
"Ah, yes, a lovely piece." The witch- she had to be "Madame Selena"- unlocked the case and brought out the bracelet, which she handed to Draco. It was cold and heavy in the palm of his hand. He held it up to the light, studying it. "Fine craftsmanship." continued Madame Selena. "Are you looking for a gift for your little girlfriend, my dear?" Draco bristled. "She's not my girfriend!" he exclaimed. He handed the bracelet back to the witch. "I'd like to see something else." Madame Selena looked surprised. She cleared her throat, and wiped her glasses on one of the many layers of her flowing sleeve. "I see," she said with a small smile, "not your girlfriend yet, eh? Well, I daresay she will be soon." Not intending to lose a potential customer, she picked another bracelet from the tray. "How about this one?" Nice, thought Draco, as he studied the piece of jewelry in his hand. "Is this silver?" he asked. "White gold," said Madame Selena. "Inlaid with several small diamonds - two carats in all - and some lovely rubies. A bit pricey," she added, "but worth every sickle." Draco held the bracelet in his hand for a few moments, then made his decision. "I'll take it," he said. "Excellent," said Madame Selena. She took the bracelet and began the achingly long process of wrapping it up- first in a box lined thickly with gauze, which she wrapped in silver paper and tied with a golden bow, which then went into a silver bag embossed with stars and crescent moons which was filled with glittery gold tissue paper, which, finally, was tied with another large, poofy bow. Draco blinked. He was supposed to carry that thing around? "I can't carry that with me!" he said, shocked. "Why not?" "Well- it's- I just-" Draco scowled, and grabbed the bag. Having paid a ridiculously steep price for the thing, he might as well have it wrapped nicely. And he could never do such an excellent job on the bag as that. As he left, he tried to shove the bag inside his robes. But the frilly gold bow kept popping out. He heard someone snicker as he hurried past Honeydukes. Turning around, he saw that it was none other than Ron Weasley. Ron laughed, and stuck his head into the shop. "Fred, George," he called, "have a look at this." He turned back to Draco. "What've you got there?" He looks as though he's thoroughly enjoying this, thought Draco. Idiot. Doesn't he have anything better to do? "I'm sorry, Weasley," he responded. "Haven't you ever seen one of these? It's a bag, from a shop. You know, one of those places where you buy things? Not that I'd expect you to know anything about that. When's the last time your family could afford to buy you some decent robes?" he asked sarcastically, taking in the too-short length of Ron's rather worn school robes, which appeared to be on their last legs. Ron's ears went pink. "Shut up, Malfoy." Draco shook his head in disgust and began walking away. "I saw you leave the jewelry shop, Malfoy- who's your girlfriend?" Draco turned around again. "Feeling brave, Weasel?" he smirked. Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George, stepped out of the shop. "What's going on?" George asked. He then caught sight of Draco, and his face broke into an evil grin. Draco scowled. "I don't have time for this." He turned away again. "Scared, Malfoy?" jeered Ron. He simply ignored the other boy. He wanted to get back to his dormitory as soon as possible. Let Ron have his fun- he was only that brave when he had his friends or older brothers to back him up, anyway. Draco chose to ignore the fact that it was the absence of Crabbe and Goyle which had prevented him from finishing the disagreement. This bloody plan, he thought agitatedly, once safely back in the Slytherin fifth-year boys' dormitory, had better work.
Draco made his way back to the Slytherin fifth-year boys' dormitories nearly half an hour after he finished cleaning. He knew it was probably ridiculously late, but he was too lazy to bother checking. As he climbed into bed and his head hit the pillow, he thought his eyes would shut and he would fall asleep immediately, exhausted as he felt, but there was no such luck to be had. His mind was too active. Draco sighed, knowing exactly what was bothering him, but unwilling to think about it further. Yet it seemed like if he wanted any peace of mind at all, he needed to confront it. There was no denying it any longer that what Draco felt when Hermione brushed against him was nothing other than attraction. But why? He supposed Hermione was rather pretty, in a way, if you could get past all of that bushy hair. But it was more than that. What he had previously seen as an obnoxious, know-it-all attitude, he now saw as one of her most prominent charms, and the traits that set her apart from some of the Slytherin girls Draco was used to. Hermione felt no need to impress him, and she had no reason to simper and whine all over him like Pansy did. Hermione couldn't stand Draco.And therein lay the problem. Draco was the sort of guy who lived for the chase. He liked when girls played hard-to-get, and he enjoyed the challenge of winning them over. But once they were officially "a couple", he lost interest completely. Which, he reckoned, was exactly what he needed to do with Hermione. Because as soon as he had her falling for him, he would get bored and, hopefully, return to his senses. All well and good in theory, but how could he get Hermione to return his feelings? It was going to be difficult. After a few minutes of deep thought, he decided to try a secretive approach. He would act no differently around Hermione. and thank God for that, because he didn't think he could bear to openly flirt with a Gryffindor mud- damn, he'd have to use another word now- in public. But he could send her little anonymous notes and gifts. He almost laughed at how cliché that sounded. But clichés became clichés by being overused- they worked, so people used them over and over. Right? It seemed perfectly logical. The coming weekend was a Hogsmeade weekend, giving him a perfectly convenient way to start his plan. With that settled, his mind was clear. He was convinced that once he won Hermione's affections, he would completely forget about her... and now, he could sleep.
*** The week slid by quickly enough. Their projects were turned in on Friday, and Draco was confident that he would finally get a good grade on a project for Professor Nightshade, as Hermione had done about 99% of the work on the report. The only bit they might have lost points on was when they did the oral presentation, because Hermione hadn't told Draco that she had switched to the defense of werewolves at the last minute. "I can't believe you!" he'd exclaimed when they'd finished. "You didn't tell us that you completely switched the topic around-" "I didn't switch the topic," murmured Hermione as she rummaged through her bookbag. "The report is still about werewolves; I only changed our point of view." Draco scowled. "You made me look like an idiot." Hermione glared at him. "Not exactly a difficult thing to do, is it?" "Nice one, Granger; did you come up with that all by yourself?" Draco scowled again. He knew, if he was ever going to get past this, that he would have to try and be a tiny bit nicer to Hermione. But- the way he was falling for her like mad, and at the same time ready to grab her by the neck and- just- strangle her. Pansy came up behind him at that moment, hands on her hips. "We're going to get points taken off for this, you know," she whined. "I need to get a good grade in this class! If you hadn't decided to take charge and- and- ruin everything-" Hermione gave her a withering look. "Pansy," she began slowly, then shook her head. "It's not worth it." She sighed. "Did it ever occur to either of you that I was the one who wrote the entire essay? Did it? Or how about the fact that I was the one who spent hours in the library over the weekend researching and researching and preparing my data so that I could get a decent grade for all of us?" "Like you had anything better to do over the weekend, Granger," said Draco with a wave of his hand. Mentally, he was kicking himself. You're supposed to be making her like you! Idiot. "Yeah," agreed Pansy with a sniff. Draco glared at her, and she shut her mouth, reminding him once again why he preferred Hermione over the pug- faced little- "If you'll excuse me," said Hermione, slinging her bag over her shoulder, "I have places to be, and I don't have time to discuss this with you." Pansy wrinkled her nose. "What, do you have more classes to go to?" She looked at Draco, expecting to see him smiling approvingly at her lame excuse for an insult. He just closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. "I have to go," he told her. "I'm meeting some people at Hogsmeade in an hour." "Oooh, can I come?" "No," he said flatly. Pansy blinked. "Oh," she said, disappointed. "Well. I guess I'll. see if I can find some of my friends." she finished lamely. "That's nice," said Draco absently, grabbing his notebook and textbook and heading out the door. He was already quite preoccupied.
Chapter Seven
Draco tried his hardest to avoid Crabbe and Goyle following him into Hogsmeade. The last thing I need is those two figuring out. His thoughts trailed off. Even in the privacy of his own mind, he didn't like to admit what he was up to. Although, Crabbe and Goyle probably wouldn't tell anybody. They, and their fathers, were too afraid of Lucius Malfoy. Draco liked to believe that he only put up with them because of his father. But the fact that they were considerably larger than most of the other boys in his year, and seemed to have no minds of their own, thus providing him with a constant, impressive entourage, helped. He left Crabbe and Goyle gulping down butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks and made his way down the street. He found a small jewelry store and walked inside in a bit of a daze, still a bit unsure as to what he intended to do. Madame Selena's Jeweled Enchantments read the ornately designed brass sign that hung above the revolving doors at the entrance. As he walked through, a chiming sound alerted a thin old witch dressed in many layers of gauzy, multicolored robes, who stood up from a chair behind a long glass counter. Her silver-rimmed glasses hung by a purple beaded chain around her neck and she adjusted them onto the tip of her nose, peering at Draco through the narrow frames. "Oh hello there, dear," she said breezily, smiling. "You must be the Malfoy boy." She beamed. "You look just like your father. why, I remember him coming in her when he was your age. buying gifts for his girlfriend. what was her name? Natasha- Narissa-" "Narcissa," muttered Draco absently, squinting at the brightly lit counter, filled with countless pairs of earrings, necklaces, bracelets, rings, and other baubles. "She's my mother." "How sweet!" said the old woman. "I knew he'd win her over eventually, with all those-" Draco was no longer listening. How do I make her shut up? He frowned, and pointed at a beautiful silver bracelet, set with emeralds and tiny diamonds. "Can I see that one?" he asked.
"Ah, yes, a lovely piece." The witch- she had to be "Madame Selena"- unlocked the case and brought out the bracelet, which she handed to Draco. It was cold and heavy in the palm of his hand. He held it up to the light, studying it. "Fine craftsmanship." continued Madame Selena. "Are you looking for a gift for your little girlfriend, my dear?" Draco bristled. "She's not my girfriend!" he exclaimed. He handed the bracelet back to the witch. "I'd like to see something else." Madame Selena looked surprised. She cleared her throat, and wiped her glasses on one of the many layers of her flowing sleeve. "I see," she said with a small smile, "not your girlfriend yet, eh? Well, I daresay she will be soon." Not intending to lose a potential customer, she picked another bracelet from the tray. "How about this one?" Nice, thought Draco, as he studied the piece of jewelry in his hand. "Is this silver?" he asked. "White gold," said Madame Selena. "Inlaid with several small diamonds - two carats in all - and some lovely rubies. A bit pricey," she added, "but worth every sickle." Draco held the bracelet in his hand for a few moments, then made his decision. "I'll take it," he said. "Excellent," said Madame Selena. She took the bracelet and began the achingly long process of wrapping it up- first in a box lined thickly with gauze, which she wrapped in silver paper and tied with a golden bow, which then went into a silver bag embossed with stars and crescent moons which was filled with glittery gold tissue paper, which, finally, was tied with another large, poofy bow. Draco blinked. He was supposed to carry that thing around? "I can't carry that with me!" he said, shocked. "Why not?" "Well- it's- I just-" Draco scowled, and grabbed the bag. Having paid a ridiculously steep price for the thing, he might as well have it wrapped nicely. And he could never do such an excellent job on the bag as that. As he left, he tried to shove the bag inside his robes. But the frilly gold bow kept popping out. He heard someone snicker as he hurried past Honeydukes. Turning around, he saw that it was none other than Ron Weasley. Ron laughed, and stuck his head into the shop. "Fred, George," he called, "have a look at this." He turned back to Draco. "What've you got there?" He looks as though he's thoroughly enjoying this, thought Draco. Idiot. Doesn't he have anything better to do? "I'm sorry, Weasley," he responded. "Haven't you ever seen one of these? It's a bag, from a shop. You know, one of those places where you buy things? Not that I'd expect you to know anything about that. When's the last time your family could afford to buy you some decent robes?" he asked sarcastically, taking in the too-short length of Ron's rather worn school robes, which appeared to be on their last legs. Ron's ears went pink. "Shut up, Malfoy." Draco shook his head in disgust and began walking away. "I saw you leave the jewelry shop, Malfoy- who's your girlfriend?" Draco turned around again. "Feeling brave, Weasel?" he smirked. Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George, stepped out of the shop. "What's going on?" George asked. He then caught sight of Draco, and his face broke into an evil grin. Draco scowled. "I don't have time for this." He turned away again. "Scared, Malfoy?" jeered Ron. He simply ignored the other boy. He wanted to get back to his dormitory as soon as possible. Let Ron have his fun- he was only that brave when he had his friends or older brothers to back him up, anyway. Draco chose to ignore the fact that it was the absence of Crabbe and Goyle which had prevented him from finishing the disagreement. This bloody plan, he thought agitatedly, once safely back in the Slytherin fifth-year boys' dormitory, had better work.