And I'm back again, with a new chapter! I bet you like me for that, eh?
*grins* I got The Two Towers on DVD, and watched it last night, so I'm in a
little LOTR mood right now. That's what happens when you spend most of the
nearly three hours fantasizing about Faramir...I like Faramir. *grins even
wider*
But this is not LOTR, this is HP, and this is a new chapter. Enjoy!
Oh, and a long-delayed disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter, JKR does. I am making no money of this and no trademark infringement is intended.
*looks above* Damn, that sounded almost legal. Maybe I should become a lawyer...Or not. *grins* I say like Terry Pratchett;
"Klatchians don't even have a word for lawyer."
"Good for them."
- Quoted from Jingo.
*****'
Draco was frustrated. He was, in fact, quite ready to tear his books apart, while frothing at the mouth. His attempts to match-make were going awry. They were frankly horribly bad. Nothing he'd tried had worked.
He'd gotten an admission out of Blaise, and he knew that his classmate did like the Gryffindor know-it-all, for reasons he couldn't fathom. Of course, this was why he had started match-making in the first place. But Granger proved a harder nut to crack.
She'd resisted his ever try at making her talk about the night in the library. He'd even gone so far as to try to blackmail her, but then she'd only shrugged and said she didn't really care whether he did or not. And his attempts so get the truth out of Blaise had proved as futile.
He sank down in the chair in front of the fireplace, but smirked slightly despite the hopelessness of the situation. His other match-making attempt was turning out quite nicely, so he was sure he wasn't doing anything too wrong. Millicent had managed to get herself alone with Weasley on several occasions, during a project in Divination, which they both took and he didn't.
He had encouraged that, of course; he had dropped hints to Weasley about Millicent, and had even managed to bribe Trelawney into letting them do a project in Divination. It was good to be rich sometimes. It was even better to be rich at all times.
Sighing, he got up again and headed out, needing time to plan for his future scheming. He'd get Blaise and Granger together if it was so the last thing he did. He was supposed to win every game, dammit!
*****'
He passed by a shelf in the library, intent on getting to the part where the more advanced spell books were, when he heard something form the other side of the shelf and stopped immediately.
To his surprise, it was someone talking, and that someone he recognized as Granger. A quick peek around the shelf confirmed his suspicions, and he took a step back to eavesdrop. The girl was sitting with her forehead on the table, shoulders hunched, and talking to her self in a weary voice.
"I am such a moron. And I'm ugly. Which sums up to be a not-so-nice day, all things considered. No wonder Blaise avoids me like the plague. Heck, I would too, if I were him. I shouldn't really care; he's an inconsiderate git. But, since I do care, a lot more than I should, I have screwed up my life. Isn't that nice? I fall in love with one of the least likely guys on the planet, and he can't even look at me without running away." She mumbled, but Draco could still hear her.
The rant went on, but Draco stopped listening. He was nearly jumping up and down in unconcealed glee; Granger had just inadvertedly told him that she was in love with Blaise. The day couldn't get better; now he had something to tell Blaise, and make sure he didn't feel too bad anymore.
The only problem now was how to tell him. `You know what Granger said in the library?´ might not be the best opening line ever, nor was ´You know Granger, the girl you fancy? Well she told me she's head-over-heels with you. How ´bout that?´. He couldn't exactly drop the bombshell on the poor boy, since it would be too much of a shock and he probably wouldn't believe it anyway.
So, racing back to the Common Room, Draco started figuring out a way to tell Blaise that the girl he liked, liked him back. It shouldn't be too hard, but considering what a strange and complicated person Blaise was, nothing was easy with him.
******'
And the days went by. Draco still hadn't figured out a way to get Blaise to believe him since every time he tried to tell him, Blaise shot him a pained look and told him to get real. But that was the drawback of being a Slytherin, he guessed; no one believed you unless you proved yourself.
"Hey, Blaise, why are you here, and not with Granger? You know she's just dying to be with you." He'd said.
"Shut up, Draco; it ceased being funny even before you said it." Blaise had muttered and buried himself in his book.
So Draco was nearly at his wits end, ready to just blurt it out. It was nearly the end of April, and he was getting desperate; whenever he tried to bring Granger or the library up, Blaise sidestepped the issue and talked about something else.
Finally, one day before Quidditch practise, Draco cornered Blaise and started talking to him. Blaise tried to get away, but Draco would have none of it; Blaise would see the truth if it was so the last thing he'd ever do.
"So, Blaise, you going to the library?" Draco asked, face perfectly straight.
"No!" Blaise exclaimed, but seemed to realize the force of his exclamation only seconds later, "I mean no; I've got nothing to do there."
"Mhm. And I bet it's because of Granger; you don't want to run into her and make a fool of yourself. I know how you feel. But then again, if you never do anything about this crush, you'll never get anywhere, and granger will never know." Draco shrugged, "And she will miss out on someone who could have been her first real boyfriend."
"First real boyfriend? Do you think I'm stupid or blind? I've seen how she looks at Weasley." Blaise snapped, looking angry.
"Yeah, I've seen how she looks at Weasley; despairing because of his stupidity. Why she's friends with him I'll never know; he's an idiot!" Draco snapped back, "And for that matter, so are you!"
"What?" Blaise asked, momentarily shocked.
"Yes, you are an idiot! All you ever do is daydream about Granger, sneaking looks at her when you think no one notices, and don't even try to deny it because I've seen you! And now, when this has been going on for over two months, you don't even have to guts to tell her about it!" Draco was shouting now.
"Don't have the guts to tell her? Don't have the guts? I have reasons, Draco and damn good ones!" Blaise shouted back.
They were standing not far from the Quidditch pitch, but there was no one around to hear them as the team was inside, eating lunch before practise. Draco had his Quidditch robes on, already outside to get ready for the practise game against Ravenclaw.
"Oh, you do, do you? Well, why don't you tell me? Because I doubt she'd say no if you went and asked her out!" Draco shot.
"You do? Well, you weren't there, Draco, and you didn't see her face! I've never seen someone look so shocked and damn near disgusted! I know better than you Draco, and even though I appreciate your concern, I'd rather you just leave me alone." Blaise ran a hand through his hair, looking exhausted.
Draco stepped back; looking disappointed and not a little disgusted himself. The knuckles on the hand gripping the broom were white, and he had a very tight lipped expression.
"If that's how you want it; fine. I heard her say she loves you, but if you're too damn stubborn to take the chance and tell her, it's not my problem." He said before turning on his heels and heading towards the pitch.
******'
To say that Blaise was confused was like saying the ocean was a trifle wet. It was like saying that being hit by a herd of mad Hippogriffs was a mite uncomfortable. It was a severe understatement. His thoughts seemed to storm around more violently than the eruption of Vesuvius.
Hermione loved him? How was that possible? No, Draco had to be lying; Hermione couldn't love him. Draco couldn't know, he hadn't been there when...it... had happened. Draco must have been lying. That was the only reasonable explanation; for Draco to have spoken the truth, Hermione had to have been joking. Yes, that must be it.
But Hermione would never have joked about something like that, not to Draco, not even if she'd been out of her mind. The only logical explanation was that she had been serious, talking to someone, probably her friends, and that Draco had overheard her.
But that brought him right back to his initial problem; Hermione loved him. By all rights he should be ecstatic, jumping-up-and-down, wetting-his- trousers kind of happy, but he was honestly confused as to where to go from here.
Frankly, he hadn't fully realized what had happened yet. Maybe if he repeated it a few times to himself, it'd be easier. ´Let's see; Hermione loves me. Hermione loves me. Hermione loves me. Nope, doesn't seem to be working.´ A few more times then. ´Hermione loves me. Hermione loves me.´
"Hermione loves me." He whispered aloud.
Yes, now it seemed to have gotten through his thick head. Well, now he had convinced himself; all he had to do now was to find Hermione and tell her everything. Next problem; where to find her? The library was out of the question; she hadn't been there since the ´incident´, as he had termed it. The Gryffindor Common Room was impossible as well, since he was a Slytherin, and as such didn't know the password.
But perhaps he should try anyway. Having made up his mind, he set off towards the castle and the Gryffindor Tower. The Slytherin Quidditch team looked at him strangely as he walked up the stone steps to the doors, unable to fight off the insane grin on his face.
Life was starting to look up.
******'
Neville Longbottom was just rounding the corner in the corridor, and set eyes on the Fat Lady's Portrait, when he realized there was someone standing outside, someone he didn't recognized, and who, judging by the colour of his tie, shouldn't even be within ten days reach of the Gryffindor Tower.
He approached the painting slowly and nervously, but determined not to let the Slytherin bully him this close to home. But, when he came closer, the Slytherin didn't lash out on him, or insult him in any way, but turned to him with a small smile on his face.
"Hello, " The boy said, "Do you know where Hermione Granger is?"
"Um.no." He said hesitantly, "Why do you want to know?"
"Oh, I've got something important to tell her. It's a very, very important. Life-deciding, almost." The Slytherin said, solemnly, although Neville doubted he meant it.
"Well, I c-could ask Ron and Harry about it." Neville offered, stuttering a bit.
"Could you? That would be very helpful of you." The other boy said, looking hopeful.
Neville nodded and turned to the painting, and quickly said the password, hoping that the Slytherin boy he didn't recognize caught it, because he was sure he'd be blamed for it if he managed to get a Slytherin inside the Gryffindor Tower.
He climbed inside quickly and ran up the stairs, trying to find Harry and Ron. They'd know what to do, even if it was a Slytherin, and they had had a rather confusing run-in with Malfoy earlier.
"What is it Neville?" Ron asked, opening the door to their dorm.
"Some S-Slytherin down by the portrait wants to know where Hermione is." Neville got out.
"A Slytherin? And you actually believed him?" Ron said, sounding rather derisive.
"Yes, he did, Weasley. Where is Hermione?" A voice behind them asked.
Ron spun around and set eyes on, (you guessed it) Blaise. The redhead's mouth dropped, working up and down, but not a sound came out. Doubtlessly, the shock of seeing a Slytherin in the Gryffindor Common Room had robbed him of his speech.
"Come on; I really, really need to know where she is. Please, could you tell me?" Blaise was nearly begging now.
"Ron, what's going on?" Harry asked, as he appeared in the doorway behind them. "What's he doing here? He's a Slytherin!"
"Thank you for pointing out the bleedin' obvious, Potter. Now, tell me where Hermione is, or I will go to McGonagall and tell her about you little, shall we say escapades, with Weasley's sister." Blaise threatened.
"Wha-?" Harry started, but stopped when he saw Ron's expression. "Alright, alright; I'll tell you, but if you hurt Hermione, you're in big trouble."
"Potter, I would sooner cut off my hand. Trust me." Blaise assured him.
"She's by the lake, or rather, on that little island near the middle of it, studying. That's where she's been since Madame Pince banned her from the library for trying to check out too many books." Harry said all this very fast, looking nervously at Ron the whole time, who was developing a very interesting shade of red.
"Too many books? Is that was she calls it?" Blaise smiled, "Well, I never thought I'd say this, but thanks Potter."
With that, he started down the stairs again, leaving behind three very confused Gryffindor boys, one of them on the verge of a nervous breakdown, the second one being the cause of it. The last thing he heard before he climbed out the portrait hole was Ron shouting from the top of the stairs.
He chuckled quietly; Potter was in deep, deep trouble now. The only reason why Weasley hadn't blown up when he found out about her dating Michael Corner in their Fifth year was because he knew that his sister was an expert with Bat-Bogey Hex. Draco Malfoy was the living proof of that.
Now, to find Hermione.
*******'
Fifteen minutes later, he was standing by the shore, looking incredibly sullen and angry. There were a few rowing boats that were the school's property. Unfortunately, the few that were in the school's care were being repaired. The one boat that wasn't being repaired was the one Hermione had taken.
Ergo, he'd either had to wait until she came back, which could be tonight or something like it, or he could go out there now and get it off his chest. The trouble was; he'd have to swim. He measured the distance with his eyes, coming to the conclusion that he'd make it, and made up his mind.
Striding in, he didn't even bother to take off his robe before he began to swim. The water was cold, seeing as it was only April, and he immediately decided that it had been a dumb idea, but gritted his teeth and continued swimming. He would make it to the island.
The island itself was small, with only enough room for a small clump of trees, a patch of grass and nothing more. He could see Hermione sitting under one of the trees; she hadn't spotted him yet, apparently too engrossed in her book.
When he was only a few feet from the shore, he hit his knees on a large stone, and swearing slightly and making Hermione notice, he stood up, water dripping of his now waterlogged and very heavy robes and strode ashore, trying to keep a straight face at her dumbfounded expression.
He plopped down beside her, trying not to soak her and smiled, fighting the grin from making a sudden and unwelcome appearance. She looked utterly and completely shocked; she didn't even try to from words, she just sat there, staring.
"Hello." He said.
´You are such a moron, Blaise. You swim across the lake, getting soaked in the process, sit down next to the girl you love who incidentally loves you as well, and all you can come up with is hello? You are pathetic´ He told himself despairingly.
********'
Hermione had fled to her little island, taking the last boat, just to make sure no one would bother her, and had brought her books to study for the N.E.W.T's. She liked the little island; no one would disturb her there, and it was silent and nice, much like the library.
Today she'd fled there to avoid Malfoy; he'd been bothering her all day about Blaise, asking questions she just couldn't answer without making a big damn fool of herself. He had annoyed her constantly, until she'd told him to shut up or get a hex in his general direction.
She didn't even notice Blaise until he stood up at the shore, soaking wet and with water running down his face, and managing, despite all that, to look both generally gorgeous and insanely happy. Just how he did it, she'd never know.
He walked up to her and plopped down on the grass, barely avoiding splashing her with water. He smiled, looking like he was ready to shout out loud in happiness, and she wondered, however momentarily, how it would be like to kiss him.
"Hello." He said.
´Right. So, he swims across the lake, sits down next to you without reason, and says hello. How do you answer without making a complete and utter ass of yourself?´ She thought, nearly biting her nails in worry.
******'
Ending Notes; *smiles* we're closing in on the end, people. Next chapter is probably going to be the last. Which makes it my first finished multi- chapter fic. Hope you liked this chapter, and I hope you will like the next.
But this is not LOTR, this is HP, and this is a new chapter. Enjoy!
Oh, and a long-delayed disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter, JKR does. I am making no money of this and no trademark infringement is intended.
*looks above* Damn, that sounded almost legal. Maybe I should become a lawyer...Or not. *grins* I say like Terry Pratchett;
"Klatchians don't even have a word for lawyer."
"Good for them."
- Quoted from Jingo.
*****'
Draco was frustrated. He was, in fact, quite ready to tear his books apart, while frothing at the mouth. His attempts to match-make were going awry. They were frankly horribly bad. Nothing he'd tried had worked.
He'd gotten an admission out of Blaise, and he knew that his classmate did like the Gryffindor know-it-all, for reasons he couldn't fathom. Of course, this was why he had started match-making in the first place. But Granger proved a harder nut to crack.
She'd resisted his ever try at making her talk about the night in the library. He'd even gone so far as to try to blackmail her, but then she'd only shrugged and said she didn't really care whether he did or not. And his attempts so get the truth out of Blaise had proved as futile.
He sank down in the chair in front of the fireplace, but smirked slightly despite the hopelessness of the situation. His other match-making attempt was turning out quite nicely, so he was sure he wasn't doing anything too wrong. Millicent had managed to get herself alone with Weasley on several occasions, during a project in Divination, which they both took and he didn't.
He had encouraged that, of course; he had dropped hints to Weasley about Millicent, and had even managed to bribe Trelawney into letting them do a project in Divination. It was good to be rich sometimes. It was even better to be rich at all times.
Sighing, he got up again and headed out, needing time to plan for his future scheming. He'd get Blaise and Granger together if it was so the last thing he did. He was supposed to win every game, dammit!
*****'
He passed by a shelf in the library, intent on getting to the part where the more advanced spell books were, when he heard something form the other side of the shelf and stopped immediately.
To his surprise, it was someone talking, and that someone he recognized as Granger. A quick peek around the shelf confirmed his suspicions, and he took a step back to eavesdrop. The girl was sitting with her forehead on the table, shoulders hunched, and talking to her self in a weary voice.
"I am such a moron. And I'm ugly. Which sums up to be a not-so-nice day, all things considered. No wonder Blaise avoids me like the plague. Heck, I would too, if I were him. I shouldn't really care; he's an inconsiderate git. But, since I do care, a lot more than I should, I have screwed up my life. Isn't that nice? I fall in love with one of the least likely guys on the planet, and he can't even look at me without running away." She mumbled, but Draco could still hear her.
The rant went on, but Draco stopped listening. He was nearly jumping up and down in unconcealed glee; Granger had just inadvertedly told him that she was in love with Blaise. The day couldn't get better; now he had something to tell Blaise, and make sure he didn't feel too bad anymore.
The only problem now was how to tell him. `You know what Granger said in the library?´ might not be the best opening line ever, nor was ´You know Granger, the girl you fancy? Well she told me she's head-over-heels with you. How ´bout that?´. He couldn't exactly drop the bombshell on the poor boy, since it would be too much of a shock and he probably wouldn't believe it anyway.
So, racing back to the Common Room, Draco started figuring out a way to tell Blaise that the girl he liked, liked him back. It shouldn't be too hard, but considering what a strange and complicated person Blaise was, nothing was easy with him.
******'
And the days went by. Draco still hadn't figured out a way to get Blaise to believe him since every time he tried to tell him, Blaise shot him a pained look and told him to get real. But that was the drawback of being a Slytherin, he guessed; no one believed you unless you proved yourself.
"Hey, Blaise, why are you here, and not with Granger? You know she's just dying to be with you." He'd said.
"Shut up, Draco; it ceased being funny even before you said it." Blaise had muttered and buried himself in his book.
So Draco was nearly at his wits end, ready to just blurt it out. It was nearly the end of April, and he was getting desperate; whenever he tried to bring Granger or the library up, Blaise sidestepped the issue and talked about something else.
Finally, one day before Quidditch practise, Draco cornered Blaise and started talking to him. Blaise tried to get away, but Draco would have none of it; Blaise would see the truth if it was so the last thing he'd ever do.
"So, Blaise, you going to the library?" Draco asked, face perfectly straight.
"No!" Blaise exclaimed, but seemed to realize the force of his exclamation only seconds later, "I mean no; I've got nothing to do there."
"Mhm. And I bet it's because of Granger; you don't want to run into her and make a fool of yourself. I know how you feel. But then again, if you never do anything about this crush, you'll never get anywhere, and granger will never know." Draco shrugged, "And she will miss out on someone who could have been her first real boyfriend."
"First real boyfriend? Do you think I'm stupid or blind? I've seen how she looks at Weasley." Blaise snapped, looking angry.
"Yeah, I've seen how she looks at Weasley; despairing because of his stupidity. Why she's friends with him I'll never know; he's an idiot!" Draco snapped back, "And for that matter, so are you!"
"What?" Blaise asked, momentarily shocked.
"Yes, you are an idiot! All you ever do is daydream about Granger, sneaking looks at her when you think no one notices, and don't even try to deny it because I've seen you! And now, when this has been going on for over two months, you don't even have to guts to tell her about it!" Draco was shouting now.
"Don't have the guts to tell her? Don't have the guts? I have reasons, Draco and damn good ones!" Blaise shouted back.
They were standing not far from the Quidditch pitch, but there was no one around to hear them as the team was inside, eating lunch before practise. Draco had his Quidditch robes on, already outside to get ready for the practise game against Ravenclaw.
"Oh, you do, do you? Well, why don't you tell me? Because I doubt she'd say no if you went and asked her out!" Draco shot.
"You do? Well, you weren't there, Draco, and you didn't see her face! I've never seen someone look so shocked and damn near disgusted! I know better than you Draco, and even though I appreciate your concern, I'd rather you just leave me alone." Blaise ran a hand through his hair, looking exhausted.
Draco stepped back; looking disappointed and not a little disgusted himself. The knuckles on the hand gripping the broom were white, and he had a very tight lipped expression.
"If that's how you want it; fine. I heard her say she loves you, but if you're too damn stubborn to take the chance and tell her, it's not my problem." He said before turning on his heels and heading towards the pitch.
******'
To say that Blaise was confused was like saying the ocean was a trifle wet. It was like saying that being hit by a herd of mad Hippogriffs was a mite uncomfortable. It was a severe understatement. His thoughts seemed to storm around more violently than the eruption of Vesuvius.
Hermione loved him? How was that possible? No, Draco had to be lying; Hermione couldn't love him. Draco couldn't know, he hadn't been there when...it... had happened. Draco must have been lying. That was the only reasonable explanation; for Draco to have spoken the truth, Hermione had to have been joking. Yes, that must be it.
But Hermione would never have joked about something like that, not to Draco, not even if she'd been out of her mind. The only logical explanation was that she had been serious, talking to someone, probably her friends, and that Draco had overheard her.
But that brought him right back to his initial problem; Hermione loved him. By all rights he should be ecstatic, jumping-up-and-down, wetting-his- trousers kind of happy, but he was honestly confused as to where to go from here.
Frankly, he hadn't fully realized what had happened yet. Maybe if he repeated it a few times to himself, it'd be easier. ´Let's see; Hermione loves me. Hermione loves me. Hermione loves me. Nope, doesn't seem to be working.´ A few more times then. ´Hermione loves me. Hermione loves me.´
"Hermione loves me." He whispered aloud.
Yes, now it seemed to have gotten through his thick head. Well, now he had convinced himself; all he had to do now was to find Hermione and tell her everything. Next problem; where to find her? The library was out of the question; she hadn't been there since the ´incident´, as he had termed it. The Gryffindor Common Room was impossible as well, since he was a Slytherin, and as such didn't know the password.
But perhaps he should try anyway. Having made up his mind, he set off towards the castle and the Gryffindor Tower. The Slytherin Quidditch team looked at him strangely as he walked up the stone steps to the doors, unable to fight off the insane grin on his face.
Life was starting to look up.
******'
Neville Longbottom was just rounding the corner in the corridor, and set eyes on the Fat Lady's Portrait, when he realized there was someone standing outside, someone he didn't recognized, and who, judging by the colour of his tie, shouldn't even be within ten days reach of the Gryffindor Tower.
He approached the painting slowly and nervously, but determined not to let the Slytherin bully him this close to home. But, when he came closer, the Slytherin didn't lash out on him, or insult him in any way, but turned to him with a small smile on his face.
"Hello, " The boy said, "Do you know where Hermione Granger is?"
"Um.no." He said hesitantly, "Why do you want to know?"
"Oh, I've got something important to tell her. It's a very, very important. Life-deciding, almost." The Slytherin said, solemnly, although Neville doubted he meant it.
"Well, I c-could ask Ron and Harry about it." Neville offered, stuttering a bit.
"Could you? That would be very helpful of you." The other boy said, looking hopeful.
Neville nodded and turned to the painting, and quickly said the password, hoping that the Slytherin boy he didn't recognize caught it, because he was sure he'd be blamed for it if he managed to get a Slytherin inside the Gryffindor Tower.
He climbed inside quickly and ran up the stairs, trying to find Harry and Ron. They'd know what to do, even if it was a Slytherin, and they had had a rather confusing run-in with Malfoy earlier.
"What is it Neville?" Ron asked, opening the door to their dorm.
"Some S-Slytherin down by the portrait wants to know where Hermione is." Neville got out.
"A Slytherin? And you actually believed him?" Ron said, sounding rather derisive.
"Yes, he did, Weasley. Where is Hermione?" A voice behind them asked.
Ron spun around and set eyes on, (you guessed it) Blaise. The redhead's mouth dropped, working up and down, but not a sound came out. Doubtlessly, the shock of seeing a Slytherin in the Gryffindor Common Room had robbed him of his speech.
"Come on; I really, really need to know where she is. Please, could you tell me?" Blaise was nearly begging now.
"Ron, what's going on?" Harry asked, as he appeared in the doorway behind them. "What's he doing here? He's a Slytherin!"
"Thank you for pointing out the bleedin' obvious, Potter. Now, tell me where Hermione is, or I will go to McGonagall and tell her about you little, shall we say escapades, with Weasley's sister." Blaise threatened.
"Wha-?" Harry started, but stopped when he saw Ron's expression. "Alright, alright; I'll tell you, but if you hurt Hermione, you're in big trouble."
"Potter, I would sooner cut off my hand. Trust me." Blaise assured him.
"She's by the lake, or rather, on that little island near the middle of it, studying. That's where she's been since Madame Pince banned her from the library for trying to check out too many books." Harry said all this very fast, looking nervously at Ron the whole time, who was developing a very interesting shade of red.
"Too many books? Is that was she calls it?" Blaise smiled, "Well, I never thought I'd say this, but thanks Potter."
With that, he started down the stairs again, leaving behind three very confused Gryffindor boys, one of them on the verge of a nervous breakdown, the second one being the cause of it. The last thing he heard before he climbed out the portrait hole was Ron shouting from the top of the stairs.
He chuckled quietly; Potter was in deep, deep trouble now. The only reason why Weasley hadn't blown up when he found out about her dating Michael Corner in their Fifth year was because he knew that his sister was an expert with Bat-Bogey Hex. Draco Malfoy was the living proof of that.
Now, to find Hermione.
*******'
Fifteen minutes later, he was standing by the shore, looking incredibly sullen and angry. There were a few rowing boats that were the school's property. Unfortunately, the few that were in the school's care were being repaired. The one boat that wasn't being repaired was the one Hermione had taken.
Ergo, he'd either had to wait until she came back, which could be tonight or something like it, or he could go out there now and get it off his chest. The trouble was; he'd have to swim. He measured the distance with his eyes, coming to the conclusion that he'd make it, and made up his mind.
Striding in, he didn't even bother to take off his robe before he began to swim. The water was cold, seeing as it was only April, and he immediately decided that it had been a dumb idea, but gritted his teeth and continued swimming. He would make it to the island.
The island itself was small, with only enough room for a small clump of trees, a patch of grass and nothing more. He could see Hermione sitting under one of the trees; she hadn't spotted him yet, apparently too engrossed in her book.
When he was only a few feet from the shore, he hit his knees on a large stone, and swearing slightly and making Hermione notice, he stood up, water dripping of his now waterlogged and very heavy robes and strode ashore, trying to keep a straight face at her dumbfounded expression.
He plopped down beside her, trying not to soak her and smiled, fighting the grin from making a sudden and unwelcome appearance. She looked utterly and completely shocked; she didn't even try to from words, she just sat there, staring.
"Hello." He said.
´You are such a moron, Blaise. You swim across the lake, getting soaked in the process, sit down next to the girl you love who incidentally loves you as well, and all you can come up with is hello? You are pathetic´ He told himself despairingly.
********'
Hermione had fled to her little island, taking the last boat, just to make sure no one would bother her, and had brought her books to study for the N.E.W.T's. She liked the little island; no one would disturb her there, and it was silent and nice, much like the library.
Today she'd fled there to avoid Malfoy; he'd been bothering her all day about Blaise, asking questions she just couldn't answer without making a big damn fool of herself. He had annoyed her constantly, until she'd told him to shut up or get a hex in his general direction.
She didn't even notice Blaise until he stood up at the shore, soaking wet and with water running down his face, and managing, despite all that, to look both generally gorgeous and insanely happy. Just how he did it, she'd never know.
He walked up to her and plopped down on the grass, barely avoiding splashing her with water. He smiled, looking like he was ready to shout out loud in happiness, and she wondered, however momentarily, how it would be like to kiss him.
"Hello." He said.
´Right. So, he swims across the lake, sits down next to you without reason, and says hello. How do you answer without making a complete and utter ass of yourself?´ She thought, nearly biting her nails in worry.
******'
Ending Notes; *smiles* we're closing in on the end, people. Next chapter is probably going to be the last. Which makes it my first finished multi- chapter fic. Hope you liked this chapter, and I hope you will like the next.
