Against All Odds
Chapter Four
Koneko-chan says!
New chapter again, and I'm working as hard as I can, scouring my brain to put things in all my fics. Do you all have any idea how hard it is to write all these things? I think I bit off more than I can chew. And you with the hockeystar email, I've forgotten your name, sorry I haven't emailed you to tell about updating. I can't get into my email account just yet and I have to figure out why. Sorry.
Other than that, read along and let's see if I can make Draco up to be the pretentious bastard we all know and love.
~*~*~*~
"That is enough, Miss Granger, do be silent." The figure standing over her bed had covered her mouth as soon as she had begun to scream, and sounded rather impatient as Hermione shut her mouth instantly, cowering in her bed. He took his hand off her mouth slowly, as another hand reached over to flick on the switch to her bedside lamp, illuminating the room.
It was Snape.
"P-Professor!" she gasped, trying to catch her breath and slow her heart rate as it pounded in her chest.
The door to her room slammed open and both Draco and a recently returned from her night exploits Nagini burst into the room, one clad in boxers, the other in a dressing gown, wands held ready in their hands.
"What… what on Earth?" Nagini ejaculated, staring at the scene that met her eyes. Her eyes zeroed in on Snape and she narrowed her eyes in a disapproving fashion, though probably not because he had suddenly appeared in Hermione's bedroom. "Are you not a professor? Is it not school policy for you to knock?"
He glared at her, "Two points from Slytherin for you cheek, Miss Whetlyn." He told her silkily. Draco took the opportunity to slip on a shirt he'd snatched up from his open dresser in his room. "What were you doing in here then, Professor?" he asked in a more respectful tone once he had dressed completely.
Snape sighed, "Miss Granger was supposed to come with me tonight to speak with Professor Dumbledore about a specific task pertaining to her recent… accomplishment of becoming Head Girl. As I found the place quiet when I entered, I supposed that you might actually be following the rules for once and were asleep and tried to wake Miss Granger alone. I did not however, expect her to start screeching like some harpy." He added dryly, with an annoyed look on his sharp features as Hermione hid her reddening face.
"I'm… er… sorry Professor…" she managed to mumble as she waited for the blood to fade from her cheeks.
He nodded, before turning back to Draco and Nagini still standing at the doorway, "Now I expect you two to go back to bed. Once Miss Granger is finished dressing, she and I will be off to Dumbledore's office. Where I'm quite certain she will be questioned on how a Head Girl can completely forget about such an important meeting," he said in his coldest voice.
"And is there any particular reason that either Draco or I am not needed? Am I too not Head Girl?" Nagini asked, leaning against the doorframe.
"You were not part of Hogwarts initially, Miss Whetlyn, and this meeting pertains to incidents that have occurred over the past year, most of them having to do with happenings in Gryffindor due to our current…" his face twisted, "…celebrity. Most likely both you and Mr. Malfoy will be asked to be present at the meeting tomorrow afternoon." He swept out of Hermione's room, and through the portrait hole. "And I suggest you hurry, Miss Granger," he called back over his shoulder, "The longer you take, the harder it will be to avoid destroying this portrait!"
Hermione immediately leaped up out of bed, bouncing over in the direction of her dresser. "Can't believe I forgot…!" she muttered to herself, yanking out her cranberry-colored jumper and a pair of old stonewashed jeans. She turned to the two still at her doorway, "Thanks for coming to the rescue," she said with a small smile, "Sorry I woke you two up."
Nagini waved it off, "I can never go to sleep the first night in a new bed… I was already awake. I suggest you hurry. I have managed to make acquaintance with several other portraits in this school, none as nice to converse with as our Sirius and James." She disappeared out the door. Draco didn't move.
She watched him for a second, before making the 'turn around' gesture with her finger. He complied readily, closing the door and staring fixedly at the wood grain of the door as she began changing out of her pajamas. "Well, what is it?" she asked, as she changed.
"This meeting you're going to doesn't have a thing to do with you being chosen as Head Girl, does it? It doesn't have anything to do with Gryffindor. Just what are you up to, Daisy?"
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you. And that would be rather too messy." She replied, zipping up the fly to her jeans. When he turned around, she gave him an apologetic shrug, "I can't tell you Draco. I'm sorry to say it, but I just don't trust you, and I'm sure you don't expect me to."
He shrugged, "No. No I guess not. But that doesn't mean once in a while I wish—" he shook his head, stopping himself instantly. "But then, I'm not going to tell you that," he said with that old drawling tone that Hermione remembered so well. "Because you wouldn't be able to do anything about it…" there was a flash of something sad, something faraway in the very deepest depths of his eyes, but it was gone before she could look again to be sure. He opened the door and walked out, "Have a good time walking there with Snape… you know how far away Dumbledore's office is from here."
She groaned, "You had to remind me so soon…?" Then she raced out of the portrait hole, just in case Snape did lose his temper and began firing bolts of whatever into the portraits canvas.
"I see you've finally decided to quit dawdling and come along, Miss Granger."
"I'm sorry… I just—" she shrugged as she struggled to match his long-legged pace, "Well, Draco was being nosy."
"Draco, now? Perhaps I have misheard all these years, but wasn't it customary for you and Potter and Weasley to refer to him as Malfoy? Or any other number of obscenities which I will not utter here?"
Hermione frowned, "He deserved it."
"Being called ridiculous names? Perhaps. And perhaps the four of you also belong back with the rest of the First years. With your lack of discipline, you would certainly blend in."
"As pleasant as always, I see." She muttered, frowning at him. He raised an eyebrow, "Contrary to what you believe, the fact that I saved your life last summer does not give you the right to talk back to me."
Hermione shook her head, "I didn't even think of it," she replied honestly, "Not that I'm not thankful to you because of it. But honestly, I don't think Draco knows what happened last summer."
Snape frowned as he continued with his long strides, "Lucius said nothing about having problems with his son… then again, it would not be unlike Lucius to do so. He has a streak of pride that is annoyingly found in all Malfoys. Makes gleaning information from talking with them virtually impossible."
Hermione was silent for a moment before saying softly, "Draco said something about suspecting You-Know-Who of trying to get Harry in the Tournament."
Snape literally stopped short. "Malfoy told you about the Tournament? And what the Death Eaters are already beginning to plan?"
Hermione nodded, "I thought it strange myself. But he never said anyone told him. He just suspected. And I guess his suspicious make sense… after all, with all the dangers in the Tournament itself, it would be easier to snatch him up like they did before…" her face whitened at the thought.
Snape began walking faster now, twice as fast as he had before and Hermione nearly had to run to keep up, "We must report this to the Headmaster." He said with a slight frown on his face, "Draco Malfoy was thought to be a sure loss to the Dark Lord's side. That he is making an attempt to help Potter is… odd to say the least. Dumbledore will know what to do."
"I hope so," Hermione replied softly, "I'm the one living nearest to him. If he were to suddenly show his true colors and try to finish what Lucius Malfoy started, the only one in hearing distance is Nagini Whetlyn."
"And I have my own suspicions of the girl," Snape finished for her with a nod, "Yes I know. If she truly was one of the daughters of the old wizarding families, I would have heard of her. She's a pureblood witch, if nothing else, the fact that she was sorted into Slytherin should prove it. But… as much as it pains me to say, I am quite baffled by that girl."
A small smile flitted over Hermione's features, "I never thought I would ever hear those words leave your mouth, Professor."
"Don't expect to hear them again," he replied with a grudging smile.
Smiles were rare amongst the wizarding folk nowadays, now that the threat of Voldemort was fully thrown in the air. It had been a blessing that Hermione had been allowed to stay with her parents in the Muggle world and had been able to bypass much of the tension sparking everywhere. Suspicions were high. If anything, Hermione had drawn a parallel to this Dark Lord paranoia with America's old 'McCarthyism'… anyone who was reputed to have anything to do with You-Know-Who was immediately shipped off to Azkaban, some without the benefit of a criminal trial.
"Dungbombs."
At the sound of the odd word coming from Snape's mouth, Hermione who hadn't been paying much attention immediately knew they were at Dumbledore's office. The gargoyle opened its eyes, snarling at them as if berating them for waking it from its nap, and leapt of their way.
The moment they passed through and up the stairs, they were met with a barrage of confusing bits and pieces of different conversations. The both of them stepped into the room itself to see that most of the clutter that made up Dumbledore's office had been pushed haphazardly to the side, and a large table had been set up in the center of the office. Fawkes, looking a little annoyed now that his perch had been charmed to float up above the table, bobbed his head irritably at them as he began anew his everlasting preening.
Around the table sat a gathering of teachers, other adults, and students, both old and present. And there was a new person sitting around that table. The new professor. Professor Sally, Sa Lai, whatever. Even Snape was surprised to see her. Immediately he turned to Professor Dumbledore, "Headmaster, surely—"
Dumbledore cut him off by raising a hand in a benign gesture, "Our newest professor is trustworthy enough," he said, his voice unbearable dry and tired, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. For the first time since she'd met him, Hermione realized he was an old, old man. The way he was usually, he seemed ages younger, perhaps even so than McGonagall.
Snape looked Dumbledore closely for a moment before he nodded, taking his seat. Hermione slid into her own between Harry and McGonagall. She felt small and rather insignificant in this large gathering. Most of them were adults, and she and Harry and Ron seemed so young compared to all these adults with their grim determination.
For the first time, she realized just why they had wanted only people of age to join the Order of the Phoenix. The risks were too high. That Harry Potter was needed was the only reason she had become involved, and because Harry Potter needed both her and Ron to succeed.
The meeting dragged on long, longer than Hermione had expected, and she was beginning to nod off when Dumbledore noticed, and with a small, benevolent smile, announced loudly, "I do believe it is time to be going on to bed… the majority of us do have classes to attend tomorrow." His eyes twinkled as they settled on Ron Weasley who was already fast asleep with his head on the table and a small drop of drool already pooling in one corner of his mouth. Mrs. Weasley, on the other end of the table, was not amused.
Harry, seeing the murderous look on the boy's mother's face, hastily nudged his friend awake. "We're going," he hissed into the boy's ear as Ron grunted and sat up, "I'm siding with Harry on this one."
Harry sighed, repeating himself. "We're going, Ron."
"Oh." He got to his feet and sidled out through the doorway, too tired to start feeling embarrassed just yet. "Bye all, then."
Harry and Hermione shared a look that said a thousand words between them before Harry shrugged and said, "So… has Malfoy tried to pull anything yet?"
Hermione shook her head, "No. Actually… I think he tried to warn me."
Harry frowned, "Warn you?" he repeated, concern darkening his features, "Malfoy? Why would he do that?"
She shrugged, "I don't know… but there's going to be another Tournament at this school, did you know that?"
Harry shook his head, "Malfoy told you that?"
"Yes. He said you can't enter… that, that You-Know-Who's going to try and kill you again this year."
"I'm not planning on entering that Tournament, Hermione. I don't want to go through all that again."
"You got hooked into it in Fourth, and they might just pull it again. After all, you're bound by the rules like the rest of them if that Goblet spits your name out." She was wringing her hands, an old habit that she'd thought she'd gotten rid of, one of the first signs that she was anxious.
"Dumbledore's not going to let it happen this time. Not after what happened to…" he trailed off, "Well, what happened back in Fourth," he said, his voice thick. He shook his head, trying to clear the air of the subject, "So is that all Malfoy's doing? Telling you things that might not even be true?"
Hermione shrugged, "He was being nicer to me than he's been for a very long time."
"Don't trust him, Hermione. You know you can't. Look what his father—"
"I remember what Lucius Malfoy did," she cut him off before he could finish his sentence, "And I know what Draco's capable of. And I'm going to be careful." She walked off then, headed off towards her own room so quickly that she missed the incredulous look on Harry's face.
"Draco?" he asked out loud to no one in particular. However, in an enchanted castle, things tended to talk back.
"That's what she said, me lad!" replied a friendly old lady sitting in a portrait near him with a watering can floating above her head.
"Thanks. Rhetorical question really." Harry told her before heading off towards Gryffindor Tower and his own warm bed. But still… since when had Hermione ever referred to Malfoy as Draco?
Hermione herself was fighting to keep her eyes open when she dragged herself in front of the portrait. It was empty. She groaned out loud as she stared at it. Apparently Sirius and had gone gallivanting somewhere. There was only one thing left to do. She smacked the portrait. "HEY!" she yelled as loudly as she could, startling awake several of the people inside the surrounding portraits. "LET ME IN!"
One of the portraits, right behind her immediately asked her who she was looking for if only to shut her up. When she told him who was supposed to be in that portrait, he immediately sent one of his sheep off to look for the two miscreants. For the first time, he seemed to smile. "Those two are something," he told her, "Never were ones to take on responsibilities them. Don't know why they're guarding the Head common room."
However, the sheep returned that moment and baahed something in the shepherd's ear. He then looked up apologetically at Hermione, "Sorry lass, but the boys can't be found. Running somewhere up on the upper corridors I'm afraid."
She was about to slump down in despair and throw cautions to the wind and fall asleep right there in the doorway when the portrait flew open, barely missing the top of her head.
"Daisy! God, hurry up and get in here!"
It was Draco, obviously. His hair was rumpled and once again, he was not wearing a shirt, but there he was. She took no time in scrambling up through the portrait hole and into the common room. "Thanks," she managed as she stumbled towards the general vicinity of her room.
"What took you so long anyway?" Draco asked, hiding a yawn behind a raised hand, "It's nearly four in the morning."
"Damned meeting. Stupid people not being in the portrait. Stupid room being so bloody far away…" she muttered under her breath as she stumbled into the wall and began cursing it whole-heartedly. Draco watched her with a raised eyebrow, "I'm… sure." Shaking his head, he took her by the arm and gently steered her into her bedroom. "Gods when you're sleep-deprived, you act as sluggish as if you had drunk several dozen bottles of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey."
"Beastly stuff," she mumbled before flopping down into her bed. "Mmm…" she murmured as she crawled in never bothering to change. "Goo'night." She muttered before turning over and falling straight to sleep.
Draco stood there in the doorway with an incredulous look on his face, "You are an odd girl, Hermione Granger." He said to himself as he turned off the lights to her room with a flick of his wand, "I think all those years of making fun of you were put to waste… never had much of an effect on you, did I?"
"Hrmph," was the only sound that came from the lump in the bed as he closed to door behind him. He wasn't quite sure whether she was still awake or still asleep. Shaking his head, he slowly walked back to his room. So absorbed was he in all his thoughts that he never noticed Nagini's door whisper shut.
The next morning dawned all too soon for the trio. Nagini, not entirely used to sleeping all that much, fared the best of the three of them. She woke Draco first, finding out that he had a normal morning routine of throwing his pillow into the face of whoever attempted to wake him. She decided right then and there that the next time she might have to wake him up, it would be by throwing some spell or other at him.
She hesitated at Hermione's door, not quite sure what to do. Then she shrugged it off. After all, mudblood though she may be, Hermione Granger was a friend of Harry Potter, she had admitted as much to her last night. It was best to keep on the good side of the boy's friends… until he was dealt with of course. And after knocking softly and receiving no answer, she opened it and stepped in.
"Hermione?" she called warily, shaking the brunette's shoulder gingerly, ready if another pillow should fly her way. After all, this might be some strange human custom that she had no knowledge of. Stranger things had happened over the course of history. Look at Dumbledore.
No flying projectile made its way into her face, but the girl groaned, mumbled something underneath her breath before turning over with a sleepy, "Five more minutes, Mum."
Nagini drew herself up, "I am certainly not your mother," she said almost indignantly, "Now if your do not get yourself up, you will be late."
At the word 'late', Hermione's eyes popped open and she sat up looking around her frantically. When she caught sight of Nagini's face and her one raised eyebrow she let out a surprised squeak. After all, seeing a Slytherin, any Slytherin was an unusual sight first thing in the morning for a Gryffindor. "Late? What do you mean late? I'm late?"
"You will be," Nagini replied, with a rather wry smile. "Perhaps it would be a good idea to hurry."
Hermione nodded vigorously, "Yes, yes it would…" she agreed jumping out of bed and shivering at the cold temperatures of early September. Nagini retreated out of Hermione's room as she became a whirlwind of activity, snatching up the clothes that had been dubbed the school uniform, although really, the only thing a student really had to wear were their black Hogwarts robes. Unfortunately, the teachers frowned upon anything else the students wore so gradually, it was an unsaid rule that school clothes must be such and that was that.
Just as she was finished straightening her school tie, a loud smash rang throughout their shared common rooms, accompanied by the loud ringing of glass hitting the floor. Instantly she ran out of her room to see what was the matter, wand in hand in case, for some impossible reason, the Death Eaters were attacking in broad daylight. Seeing Nagini rush out of her room in similar haste and her school tie still undone and her feet bare, the two of them realized at the same time that the noise had come from Draco's room.
The noise that had faded away was replaced by Draco's loud swearing. When the two of them appeared in the doorway, they saw that Draco's large glass window had been shattered and a large owl was perched on one of Draco's bedposts, preening its feathers.
"Echidna! Why can't you just tap the window politely with your beak and wait till I open like other owls?!" Draco asked exasperatedly, and both Hermione and Nagini couldn't help by eye him with interest. For he had erupted from the bathroom his white Oxford shirt only half buttoned, the belt in his gray slacks certainly not belted in place, and his hair was still slightly rumpled, and several locks of it were falling into his eyes. Hermione barely held back the instinct to lick her lips at the sight of him.
She stared then at the owl who was giving what could only be put as a disapproving look on the owl's face. Echidna hooted once, holding out her left leg imperiously showing off the piece of parchment tied to it. Hermione shook her head, "You named your owl Echidna?" she asked incredulously as she stared around at the mess.
"I thought it fitting to name her after a monster, wouldn't you think?" Draco asked still glowering at the owl, which hooted once at him, ruffling her feathers innocently.
"Well, you know the pet does reflect the owner…" Hermione said with a sly grin on her face.
"And I suppose you're a red-haired, bowlegged, flat-faced beauty, aren't you?" Draco retorted, running a hand through his hair, to keep the strands out of his eyes. He approached the owl now, untying the parchment from Echidna's leg. "And I don't suppose you thought it wise to wait till the time when the other owls deliver things?" he asked the owl rhetorically.
Nagini could understand the owl's reply. A snippy no.
Draco pocketed the parchment, before looking up at the two girls still at his door. "False alarm, ladies." He said with a small smile, "Not that I don't mind you two coming to my rescue and all, but I think we're all going to be a mite late if we're still here by the time breakfast is done being dolled out. And I don't know about you, but I'd like to make it to breakfast."
Hermione grimaced immediately, "You're right!" and dashed out of the doorway back to her room.
Nagini shook her head, "Humans…" she muttered to herself disappearing out the door and back into her own room. All of these sudden things made her more and more nervous. Hermione's screaming. Draco's window shattering. Both sounds brought her running because it brought with them so many more memories of the past. Might not perhaps the Master be disappointed that she was biding her time in killing the boy and send others? But no, he would understand the importance of subtlety… after all, why else would he send her?
Quickly finishing her dressing routine and picking up the large satchel that held her rolls of parchment, her quills and inkbottle, she snatched her large textbooks from the top of the dresser and with them in hand, she exited her room. Draco too, had finished getting his things, and appeared in the common room only a few moments after she, but there was grave countenance on that pretty face of his. She watched him closely. Most likely it had much to do with that bit of parchment he'd received this morning and less to do with the upcoming classes.
From Hermione's room however, was the loud sound of her irritated swearing, mixed in between spell words and small flashes of light they could see through the doorway. Draco raised an eyebrow at her, shrugged, and walked in.
The place was about as idyllic as a tornado. Draco stared in awe at Hermione as she liberally stuffed everything she could into her school bag. He also took note of the clothes she was wearing. After all, as mentioned before, there was an unwritten rule about what a student should wear. Hermione Granger certainly didn't appear to be wearing all the articles of clothing that had been prescribed by years of studying under the same teachers as he.
She looked up at him, and the frustration was evident on her face. "I can't find anything!" she wailed, "And I'm going to be late!"
He was still staring at her clothes when she looked down, then back up at him with a small smile, "I couldn't… find my… other clothes…?" she said by way of excuse.
"Funny thing, as I thought you were wearing them yesterday."
Smiling, she held her finger up to her mouth. "Shh!"
Then she turned and pointed to her bookshelf, "Now are your books as ornery as mine? How do suppose I can get these things out?" Draco looked behind her… and blinked. It was as if the bookshelf had swallowed up her room, it was so large. And completely filled, nearly to bursting point. There was even a stack of other books that hadn't been able to fit scattered all around it. He stared at it for a few more seconds before saying, "Perhaps a crowbar?"
She looked horrified at the idea of damaging her precious books' covers. "NO!"
"That was an attempt at humor, Granger."
She shrugged not looking the least embarrassed. "Any other ideas?"
"Accio!" Draco replied, pointing his wand to a book at random, which flew neatly into his hand, and he handed it to her. "I take it you have…" he looked down, before his brow wrinkled in confusion, "'Narcissus in Chains' first?" he looked up at her with a raised eyebrow, "Daisy, what is this?" she grabbed it out of his hand and placed it hurriedly on the floor. "Nothing," she replied hastily, grasping her wand in the other hand, "Accio! Accio, Accio, Accio!" with seeming reluctance, the book flew at her, and stopping them neatly with a quick Freezing charm, she picked them up out of the air and stuffed them into her bag. "I'm done."
"Daisy… are you sure you want to go out in that?" he asked, almost hesitantly as she made her way to the door. She stopped midway and stared at him oddly. "In what?"
"Well…" Draco sighed and pushed her in front of the mirror. "Tell me you are not trying to imitate Pansy as Head Tart of Hogwarts," he pleaded, "I thought I was free of that business last year."
Hermione cocked her head and looked over her reflection. "What do you think?" she asked the mirror. And of course, it answered back.
"Like the boots. The lack of those scratchy old sweater vests is refreshing. Perhaps you might loosen your school tie just enough to undo those two top buttons. But off with the earrings… you know McGonagall."
She shrugged, "Right. Hoop earrings, bad. Got it." she immediately took them off and after fixing her tie and her blouse, she flung the black school robes back on over her shoulders, picked up her large school bag, and rushed out into the common room.
Draco glared at the mirror, "You're not helping."
"No rule that says our girls can't go out looking pretty now is there? I must say I do hate how the girls are dressed nowadays. Makes my job so much more fun when they start playing with their clothes."
"Draco! If you're not coming, we're leaving you!" Hermione bellowed from the common room.
He loped after her on long legs with the mirror chuckling as he left. "After all," it added, "You liked it well enough yourself."
~*~*~*~
Conversation stopped as soon as the three of the entered the Great Hall together. Never, in all the history of Hogwarts had any Slytherin and Gryffindor ever walked into the Hall together. It simply hadn't been done. Especially now that the threat of Voldemort loomed in so close.
Hermione looked around her curiously at the blatantly amazed looks on her friends' faces. Then with almost a self-conscious shrug she waved at both Draco and Nagini and headed off to the Gryffindor table, taking her spot right beside Harry and right across from Ron.
Conversation began again, this time with the buzz of gossip.
Harry still watched his friend silently, but with a look of surprise written on his features. Ron was above such passive displays of his amazement and took it upon himself to start yelling, louder and louder with each word. "Just what were you doing?"
She calmly buttered her toast, and took a large bite out of it before addressing her purple-faced friend. "I walked to the Great Hall with the two people I'm sharing a common room with."
Neville tried to say something, but only managed the two syllables, "Hermi—" before Ron burst in again.
"He's a Slytherin! Or have you forgotten that?!"
She watched her friend grow increasingly purple-faced in his rage and pointed out that he might want to breathe in between his rants otherwise it would conclude in a horribly embarrassing swoon right over the marmalade. It didn't make Ron any calmer, but at least he took her advice and swallowed a gulp of air. Purple and orange-red did not look good together after all.
Ron glared at her, "You know what I mean! Hermione, you're fraternizing with the enemy! Again!"
She frowned at him now, "Ron, you know how much I hate it when you say that…" she began slowly, dangerously.
Harry hurriedly rushed in to step between the two of them, attempting to stop the impending confrontation. "Come on Ron, Hermione's just trying to keep from getting murdered in her bed tonight by her next-door-neighbor. Calm down a little."
"But, but it's Malfoy!" Ron protested, doubly loud since there was no one else backing him up, "He's a… he's a Death Eater!"
His words had a… well a magical effect on the crowd of students. The school had already been tense before, very tense beneath its outwardly happy exterior. Now, at the mention of the dreaded words, it exploded.
Chaos… that was the only word that might explain what happened right then and there.
The teachers as one rushed down from the Head Table, and Dumbledore himself had to use all the power in his voice for them all to hear him over the tumult.
Hermione stood up on the bench, her voice loud and commanding, ringing with tones, the Head Girl badge flashing on her chest where she'd pinned it. She yelled out orders for the students, and miraculously, some of them obeyed.
From her vantage point, she could see Draco fighting his way over to the Gryffindor table, and the look on his face made her shiver. He was furious.
"What does that boy know of the Death Eaters?" hissed Nagini, who had managed to slip through the crowd towards Hermione. "What does he know of the Dark Lord?"
Hermione glanced down, "Don't listen to him. He's biased. Doesn't like Draco."
Nagini glared at him as the crowd continued to quiet down after the pandemonium, "Foolish boy."
The two boys next to her, latching themselves onto Ron in order to forcibly keep him from leaping at Draco were struggling to keep the redhead at bay. Draco himself was furious, but he made no move to physically attack the other boy so they let him alone. The sandy-haired one appeared to be trying to cast a shacking spell on Ron, but failing miserably as he needed a free hand (not to mention a wand) in order to cast such a spell. She did it for him, chaining him quite neatly to the Gryffindor table.
"Now be silent." She told him with a vicious look in her eyes that made him immediately quiet down. Those green eyes, framed by the darkness of her hair were striking. And she used them for all of their effect.
The other boy straightened his glasses ruefully, as they'd been knocked askew by Ron's flailing limbs. "Thanks for that," he said cautiously, but with an attempt at sounding friendly. She raised her eyebrows, this was one boy was trying to accept a Slytherin as an equal to Hermione Granger in intellect at the least. How admirable.
Hermione got down from her spot on the bench the moment order was beginning to be restored in the place. McGonagall had come over and begun yelling at Ron for starting the uproar and Draco was standing back, a mixture of smugness and fury still on his face, his arms crossed over his chest.
She then noticed that she'd stepped on something and she gasped at the thought that it might be one of her precious pieces of homework. Quickly picking it up, and smoothing out the wrinkles and shaking off the dust she'd made on it with the sole of her boot, she read it.
It wasn't hers.
In fact, it wasn't even Harry's, or Ron's, Seamus's, or Nagini's.
It was Draco Malfoy's.
Quickly throwing a glance towards the blond boy, she reassured herself that he was still absorbed in the scene happening between Ron and Professor McGonagall and certainly wasn't looking in her direction. She looked back down at the neatly scripted writing.
It was from Lucius Malfoy.
A shiver ran right up her spine at the sight of the man's signature at the bottom of the parchment, and she had to force her shaking hands not to tear that piece of parchment that had been held by the hated man's own hands into little pieces. It went as following:
My son,
We are beginning, at last to conceive another plan to enter that school of yours in order to find the Potter boy. As of yet, the Dark Lord has yet to find out about these plans, but the others are growing restless under his control. They clamor for blood, my son, and I am determined, as the Dark Lord's right hand man, to give it to them. They want the power that being a Death Eater has brought them in the past. Once we eliminate the Potter boy, there will be fear. We will be feared. Once Potter is dealt with, we will have destroyed the wizarding world's hope and they will crumble before us. The Dark Lord will reward us all greatly for the things we will do in his name. We will win his war for him. He will give us the power.
It is not too late for you to return to me, my son. There is ample time for you to reconsider your actions in returning to that school at the present time… now that a war is brewing. I have heard that you have been made Head Boy, and I am proud of you for that. Apparently you can best that Granger girl after all.
While on the topic of that girl, you will not attempt to make any sign of friendship towards her. She knows too much. Once our plans have been finalized, she will be one of the first to die alongside Potter. Anything you know might slip. She is a clever girl… too clever in fact. She might manage to figure out things on her own from bits and pieces of information you might slip to her.
I am waiting for an answer from you boy.
Your father,
Lucius Malfoy III
She finished it slowly, with a hard lump in the back of her throat. She felt sick at the thought of that dreadful man. This was the letter he'd received this morning, she was sure of it. The moment she looked up however, she realized that Draco was staring right at her, looking her square in the eyes. He knew. More importantly, he'd slipped it under her foot on purpose. He'd wanted her to know.
Nodding at her once, he disappeared back through the crowds towards the Slytherin table. Quickly, she folded it up and pocketed it.
She noticed the sharp look Nagini was giving her, and shrugged, "Spare piece of parchment."
"It must surely have been a very interestingly designed piece of parchment because you were staring at it so animatedly for over a minute." Nagini replied coolly, not fooled for a second.
Hermione blushed, "I am that transparent, aren't I?"
"Have these tactics worked for you in the past?"
Hermione nodded. "Granted," she admitted with a toss of her head towards Ron who was still wrestling with the shackles binding him to the table, while McGonagall continued to rant into his ear. "Considering the company I keep, it would have been amazing if I couldn't have." She rolled her eyes. "They're all just…" she trailed off unable to think of a word.
"Men." Nagini easily supplied for her.
The raven-haired boy looked up, "We're not all that bad, Hermione." He said with a small smile, indicating Ron. "After all, you know how Ron is… doesn't take kindly to surprises. Thinks of you like he thinks of Ginny… he's got the big brother syndrome. Can't stand the idea of you with anyone possessing a Y chromosome."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Funny you should mention that when I'm the older… by two months in fact."
He held up his hands in a deferential manner, "I never said I agree with him Hermione, I just stated the facts."
Nagini eyed him closely. In a faint, faint way he much resembled the Master, back in days long past. She had been old enough to remember these things. The Master had once been rather like this boy. Vibrant, and looked clever enough, and that dark hair…!
Hermione snapped her fingers. "Oh, I nearly forgot." She gestured in Nagini's direction, "Nagini wanted to know how you looked like Harry. Can you believe it? She's never seen even your picture before."
Harry's face burst into flame, "Oh, come off it…" he said, swatting at his friend, who danced lightly out of the way.
Nagini's expression underwent a vast change, "Really?" she drawled, not unlike Draco's trademark way of speech.
Harry nodded, still blushing. "Yeah…" he muttered, looking down at his sneakers that peeked out from beneath his robes.
Nagini reached out, catching hold of his chin and lifting his face to hers, since they were of the same height, and his hair had fallen into his face, hiding his features. The conversation around them stopped as Nagini examined his face closely. Hermione could see the murderous expressions on several specimens of the female population, but most of all, she saw the confused expression on Harry's face and couldn't manage to hide a small laugh at the sight. After all, not many boys at their age could manage to make their features so goddamned adorable when need be. And the part that made it seem even more irresistible was the fact that he was completely unaware of the effect he had on the women around him who were enamored of the show.
Nagini let him go eventually, and summoned up a smile, "You shouldn't be so embarrassed… how else was I going to be able to see how you looked?"
Harry shrugged, blushing again. "You could have… asked?"
Nagini raised an eyebrow, "And would you have let me?" she asked, crossing her long, marble-white arms across her chest.
Hermione nudged him, "Probably not." he admitted with a small smile.
Nagini nodded, "I prove my point." She summoned up another smile towards Hermione, "Thank you, I'll leave you to your breakfast now." She drifted off towards the Slytherin table.
Harry looked towards Hermione, his eyes faintly glazed, "She was… pretty…" he said slowly.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, "What is with you and foreign girls?" she asked, shaking her head at him. "Some obsession with black hair, perhaps?" She could just see the ears perking up around them as the girls attempted to concentrate fixedly on their now-cold oatmeal. She realized right away there was going to be a new pseudo-Goth trend hitting the hallways of Hogwarts in the near future.
The moment breakfast was through however; she caught up to both Draco and Nagini in the hallways as they headed for the mandatory meeting they had with select members of the staff that did not have classes at that time. She caught hold of Draco's sleeve and dragged him off to a discreet corner while they waited in front of the staff room for a teacher. She held up the piece of parchment. "What is this?" she asked him, shaking it in his face.
"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, shifty-eyed as he watched Nagini out of the corner of his eyes and down the hall in case anyone else was coming.
Hermione shook her head, borrowing a leaf from Nagini's book, taking his chin firmly by the hand and forcing him to look down into her face, since he was a about two inches taller than her. "Now, now Malfoy," she told him, her lip quirking upwards, in such a way that had, over the summer, made hordes of males follow her around like puppy dogs. He swallowed nervously as his eyes were pulled to hers and unable to look away. "Out with it."
He turned away, relieving his face of her light grip, "I don't know… I just thought… well… I heard that something had happened last year… something that involved you in it… so I guess… that you should know that you're in trouble if they come."
Hermione's expression went cold, "What do you know?" she asked him flatly, any laughter dancing in her eyes immediately. "Who told you?"
His expression became guarded, "I only overheard bits and pieces… that they had planned an attack on Potter and you had and Snape had something to do with stopping them…"
She relaxed only slightly, "Is that it?"
He shook his head, but he looked back at her, "There's more to it than that… but I think I have a feeling you're not going to come right out and say it."
She frowned up at him, "You thought right… I'm not telling anyone. Ever." She looked away from him, her show of bravado for the moment broken, "Maybe you should go and write a letter to Daddy," she added turning away from him, "Maybe he'll tell you what he did." She strode away from him without looking back, the letter still clenched in her fist held stiffly at her side.
He stared after her, realizing he'd touched a nerve. What had his father done?
He grew cold at the thought of it… he knew any number of cruelties that his father could do, especially to a girl like Hermione. He frowned. But his father had been lying low for the past several years because of her and her three friends… the only uprisings of Death Eaters his father had been involved in had been the "safe" ones where there were no chances of his getting caught. There was no way he would have been anywhere near Muggle London. Unless Hermione had somehow been involved in that failure of an attempt to storm the castle the previous summer, when it had been nearly empty…
But that was impossible… They had been pushed back by Dumbledore's Order or whatever fool name that organization had been called. There was no way that a student, even one as bright as Hermione Granger, could have been allowed to be anywhere near those plans those precious plans the Order was drawing up.
"Mr. Malfoy… perhaps you might care you join us?"
Professor McGonagall's dry voice brought him clear out of his thoughts as he nearly jumped when she appeared behind him.
"I suppose I have to, don't I?" He recovered quickly, replacing his frown with his old drawling smile that curled up insolently at her.
Her lips tightened even more as she swept past him towards where Hermione and Nagini were standing silently. Draco breathed in a deep sigh as she passed him. McGonagall didn't trust him. Then again, he didn't blame her. She'd never believe it was his own intelligence that had made him Head Boy, not his father's money. It was not as if Dumbledore accepted bribes from people like Lucius Malfoy after all.
"Mr. Malfoy!"
Immediately he strode forwards entering the warm, candlelit room with long-legged strides, closing the door after him.
An hour later, they left that incredibly dull meeting with the staff scant minutes before classes were over and the other students were streaming into the corridors. Like sheep, Draco thought, his mood several levels worse than it had been before he'd stepped into that cursed room. He'd been lectured for an entire hour about things he hadn't done and what he had to do and what he had to show other people and… God! He was certain even Professor Binns might have fallen asleep at some point.
"Horrible waste of time, that." he muttered. Hermione, her temper no better than his nodded grumpily, "To think I missed Charms to sit through that." she grumbled, digging through her bag for a quill, but instead came up with a blue ballpoint pen.
Nagini was silent, but the look on her face bore testimony to what she thought about all that ridiculousness the three of them had been subjected to. She was also the first to notice Pansy Parkinson come running, her hair streaming long and loose behind her. Pansy shook her head. She pitied the girl's hair… even with wizarding hair care products, it couldn't be a good thing to both curl and dye your hair like that. It was simply unhealthy. Not to mention it was not very attractive on Pansy.
She grabbed hold of Draco's arm, "Draco-baby?" she asked, with one of her large, painted-on sultry smiles that showed way too many teeth. "Can I talk to you?"
He eyed her warily. It was beyond obvious what she was talking about. Over the years, Hogwarts had become something akin to a secret whorehouse. Especially in their year, there were girls that would do anyone. Pansy Parkinson, obviously, was one of them, hailing from Slytherin house. Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff. The Patil twins from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Draco had found his way into their beds at one time or another over the previous years, but they were only good for a quick lay. There was no challenge with them. They just lay there and spread their legs for him with a waiting smile. No fire, not one of them. They weren't the kind of woman one imagined when alone in their own beds with no one for company.
"I—" he paused. Why not? Pansy was always hoping for him to shower her with gifts, which was what made her so incredibly easy to manipulate. And, he thought ruefully to himself, she might be good enough to dispell whatever thoughts he might be thinking of over Hermione Granger with her perfect hair, perfect breasts, perfect legs… "Now?" he asked finally and her eyes lit up.
"Of course now," she purred, running her hands up his arm, "It's re-all-y important." She told him, drawing out the middle word as long as she could.
If Draco had had a hat, he would have tipped it to Hermione and Nagini who had both immediately caught onto Pansy's game and had stopped walking. "I'll be seeing you two then," he told them before following Pansy off towards the dungeons. From the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione's face scrunch up in a look of absolute disgust.
Pansy led him to the room so well known to most of the student body. The Room of Necessity or whatever it was called. It was the one place so well shared by all four houses in the school because it was used so often nowadays for the girls to "do their business". Amazingly, none of the teachers had heard of it yet. Or quite possibly, some of the rumors flying might be true and men like Snape were also offered compensations of keeping the secret.
They stopped just before walking in and Pansy turned to him with another sultry smile, "Well…?" she asked him teasingly, "What's your wish today?"
He was silent for a moment, his mind unable to think of anything other than the sudden image of Hermione that had appeared in his mind. "I'd like a naughty school girl," he said finally, with a sly smile in Pansy's direction, "I'm taking it easy on you aren't I? Shouldn't be too hard to please me." his hand running up her side before moving to grasp one of her incredibly large breasts as he pushed her back against the door, "After all…" he growled, "You're already in costume."
"Oh!"
At the sudden, startled sound, they leaped apart staring at the direction from which the sound had come from. Something rolled towards them down the corridor clattering to a stop against Draco's shoe. Looking down, he realized it was a ballpoint pen.
And the owner of that ballpoint pen was none other than Hermione Granger with only a hint of a blush on her cheeks as she fumbled with her large schoolbag as she rushed down the hall after her pen. "I'm so sorry you two," she said as she bent down to snatch it back up, Draco catching a glimpse of her cleavage through the unbuttoned collar of her blouse for only a moment. "I was going to go back to our common room to get something and then some silly fourth year ran into me—"
"Quit with the excuses, Mudblood!" snapped Pansy, smoothing down the front of her blouse with an indignant blush flooding her cheeks, "You followed us!"
Hermione summoned up her best condescending look. "Why on Earth would I want to follow you and see you lift up your skirts and spread for him? I was going back to my room!" she jerked up irritably, taking up her pen and straightening with a huff, "I don't need to know what the two of you do during your personal time. Have fun." She stormed off in the direction of the corridor intersecting the one they were in with a furious silence.
Draco stepped away from Pansy then, and she turned her burning gaze on him, "What are you doing?" she snapped.
He shook his head, "Lost interest, Parkinson. Maybe some other time."
She grasped his arm, "What are you talking about?" she demanded, "You know what we came here for! Just because that Mudblood interrupted—"
"Listen, Parkinson." He told her, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders, "That was Hermione Granger. That means that she's probably gone off running for a professor the very moment we let her get away. I don't want to be caught in such a compromising position when they come storming. Do you?"
The look on her face was murderous as they made their way to the crowded corridors again, probably thinking of all the ways to disembowel a certain Hermione Granger.
Draco himself was furious as well. No matter what Daisy might say for her defense and no matter how good she sounded, she had still followed them. She had to have! What right had she to barge in on his decisions and warp them for him? He wasn't her precious Ron or Harry or—or any other one of her pet Gryffindor boys. His hands were nearly shaking with his repressed rage as his eyes blazing in all their ice blue fury as he swept through the grand hallways, leaving Pansy far behind in no time.
He saw her then, talking animatedly with Seamus Finnigan and looking rather as if she'd run a marathon. She was holding up her quill triumphantly and gesturing to it as she continued to talk as the two of them walked down the hallway. She looked as if to be still in the middle of catching her breath. Seamus didn't seem to mind at all to see her chest heaving as she took in her deep breaths.
Draco's eyes narrowed and he was about to step forward when Pansy's inhumanly high shriek rang out from behind him, ricocheting off the high vaulted ceiling.
"GRANGER!"
Hermione stopped talking mid-word as she froze and turned to face the speaker. She forced a bored expression on her face, though from this distance, he could see her hand tighten around the strap of her bag. "Yes, Parkinson?" she asked, not even deigning to bother with the other girl's first name as she stormed up to her, "You wanted something?"
Pansy seemed unable to speak for a few moments, her face white with anger. For that one moment, Hermione saw all the makeup and the mask fall away from the girl's painted face to glimpse at the real person beneath all that, breaking through that hard-faced exterior in her fury. "You—you bitch!"
She couldn't tell what happened next—all she knew was that one moment she was just standing there, and the next she was on her back with Pansy's long manicured nails clawing deep gouges into her flesh as she spat obscenities down at her face. Then she felt the wind knocked out of her as Pansy broke off clawing her and began smashing her fist into Hermione's diaphragm. It took a few more moments before she started to really fight back, her books flying everywhere as she grasped Pany's upper arms, and throwing her off her onto the floor beside her, quickly evacuated by a wide-eyed first year. She didn't bother with scratching or pulling her hair, which was what Pansy was doing… She balled her hand into a fist hitting her full in the face. She felt the crunching of bone or cartilage, she wasn't quite sure which in the midst of the adrenaline rush, but she did hear Pansy's cry of pain, and she did feel the sudden spray of blood from her nose.
That was what brought her back to her senses. That and the fact that Seamus had grabbed hold of her arms and wrenched her back, away from Pansy with more force than she had ever thought to credit the Irish native with. Ginny had appeared from somewhere in the midst of the tumultuous crowd and crouched down beside her older friend.
Blaise Zabini had forced her way through the crowd as well to kneel down beside Pansy, holding up a handkerchief to Pansy's nose and trying to help her stand up. The two redheads immediately called a truce between each other as they attempted to help their respective friends stand up. The professors began to flood out into the corridor now, forcing their way through the curious faces of the people in the crowds. McGonagall reached them first, her face pinched and white with fury. Her eyes swept over the scene with one glance, and when she spoke her voice echoed loud throughout the entire corridor. It was nearly as impressive as a Howler. Italics and exclamation marks abounded.
"Hermione Granger! Pansy Parkinson! How dare you! This is most unseemly! Miss Granger, what sort of behavior is this in our Head Girl? And Miss Parkinson! A prefect! Just think of it the two of you! Just what people might have thought to see you!"
"But Professor!" Seamus interrupted, "Parkinson was the one that attacked Hermione! She did it in self-defense!"
"Silence Mr. Finnigan!" she yelled in his direction with such a look of fury that he looked down to his feet, chastised.
"Fifty points from the both of you!" she roared, "And a detention each!" she stopped breathing heavily and a moment or two later, she said in a slightly more calmer voice, "Now Miss Weasley, Miss Zabini, please escort your friends to the Hospital Wing. The rest of you! Get to class!"
Draco stared, shocked into paralysis. What… what had just happened? He watched as Hermione stumbled to her feet, as she leaned hard on Ginny and Seamus's shoulders who were supporting her. Dave Thomas was retrieving her scattered things, and she was bleeding from her arms where Pansy's nails had dug into her flesh, the redness of the blood slick and shiny on her skin. She was shaking her head, telling them she was fine, but they proceeded to continue to drag her towards the Hospital Wing. Pansy was receiving much of the same treatment by the other Slytherins, mostly from the girls as they helped her to her feet and quickly dragging the girl along towards the Hospital Wing.
He shook his head, trying to gather coherent thoughts from the muddle that had become his brain. Pansy and Hermione had never been close… anyone at their school could testify to that. But they had never gotten into a full-out catfight before. Pansy was not the smartest of women, but she still had plenty of common sense. It was not like her to attack someone so very much out in the open. And Hermione… since when had she been one to hit back? And hit back hard enough to break Pansy's nose? Draco knew better than to assume she had blindly swung out at Pansy's face. Any harder, and at any more of a steeper angle and she would have shoved Pansy's nose upwards, sending the cartilage and whatever bits of bone into her brain, effectively killing her. Hermione shouldn't know these things…! But there it was, she had broken Pansy's nose on purpose.
"Mr. Malfoy, I do believe if you refuse to continue moving, I will be forced to give you a detention." He turned right around to see Snape standing right behind him, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Er… yes professor…" Draco replied hastily and moving towards Arithmancy, another one of those classes split between Slytherin and Gryffindor. However Pansy didn't take Arithmancy and Hermione… well there was no telling if she would get back before the class was done… so there would be no way to talk to either of them any time soon.
His anger, noticeably diminished made everything appear different to him now… especially seeing the slight figure of Hermione move slowly through the crowds towards the Hospital Wing, this time without either Harry Potter or Ron Weasley to help take some of the blame.
He shook his head, bewildered. Since when had she ever looked so fragile? This girl who had been so confident and spunky… since when did she just break down and cry without having some other ulterior motive. He briefly recalled Fifth year when she had fooled all of them, including Umbridge to believe her.
He had been secretly impressed when he'd found out the truth at the end… though it had been completely eclipsed by the rage over what they had done to his father. Was this that same Hermione Granger? What had she to achieve pitching a catfight with Pansy? For that matter, what did Pansy have to achieve instigating the fight in the first place?
Slowly he made his way to class, following the flow of the tide as his thoughts wandered far from his body. After all, Pansy, despite the obvious fact that she had single-handedly destroyed whatever good reputation she might have had before found out more through her sexual rendezvous with plenty of people with the necessary information. Since she had dedicated herself to him, he thought of her in some abstract way in the back of his head like she was his possession. The only reason he allowed her to shag other men was because she brought him useful information that way.
"Faster Mr. Malfoy." Again, Snape's voice broke into the blond boy's thoughts and this time there was a hint of true warning in the older man's tone. He immediately quickened his pace, hurrying to class.
Snape turned around then, and with robes billowing, headed for the Hospital Wing. He appeared just as Madame Pomfrey burst out into another one of her rants as she began patching up Pansy first who was squalling like a wounded cat.
Hermione was silent in her chair, not being hurt enough to have a bed, but she looked up when he walked in. "Professor," she said, acknowledging him with a nod of her head.
"What in the world happened there, Miss Granger?" he demanded, "What gave Miss Parkinson the reason to attack you?"
She shrugged, eyes wide with confusion. "I don't know… except…" her eyes lit up with sudden comprehension, "I did accidentally walk in on them when they were… er…" she looked up at the face of the Potions' Master. "Well, I'd say they were heading to the Room."
He frowned. "I see… and did you do this on purpose?" he asked, dark eyes probing hers for any indication that she was lying.
She shook her head, "I was going back to my room for my new quill," she explained, "I didn't even think that they might be heading for that room. But…" she shrugged, before she winced at the movement, "I didn't think that would make her that mad…!" She frowned up at him, "I left as soon as I could! I didn't mean to drop my pen! It just fell out of my bag." She pointed at the school satchel lying at her feet, "There's a hole in that thing that I keep forgetting to mend. Guess I have more than one reason to sew it back up now."
"You know this will put you in serious reconsideration about revoking your Head Girl badge."
She turned white. "No… No Professor Snape you can't do that… not for something as little as this—!"
He shook his head, and his voice came lower than ever so that no others could hear him, "I would be a little more careful Miss Granger. The situation you have been placed in is a very dangerous one… if your badge were to be revoked you would be able to go back into the relative safety of Gryffindor—"
"No!" she looked adamant. "I'm not going to back down because someone as despicable as Pansy Parkinson is mad at me!"
He sighed, "I will not press this matter now when even the walls have eyes and ears. Later perhaps, when we have the time."
She nodded as he began to walk away.
"And one more thing."
"Yes?"
"Five points from Gryffindor for contradicting me." he replied silkily as he continued on out of the Hospital Wing. "After all," he added, "it wouldn't do to favor the wrong house now would it? Scarlet and gold is very much not my color."
"Well green does have that sallow tint," she muttered to herself.
From somewhere near the doorway, she heard him call back, "I think that will be another point, Miss Granger. I heard that."
She grumbled internally from then on.
She was also plunked back into class so quickly she blinked at the transition phase. Time didn't just fly when you were having fun. Time flew when it wanted to. Nevertheless, she studiously took out the long scrolls of parchment and began meticulously copying down everything that Professor Vector wrote down on the board, what she said, and then some.
When the class was ended, she was still taking notes.
Draco, already slow in the packing up of his things, was becoming impatient with her. All his earlier anger washed back over him in a moment, and he took a step forward in her direction. Then he stopped and looked.
Hermione's sleeves were pulled up high, baring the skin of her arms, and the slight scars that would fade within the hour thanks to Madame Pomfrey's quick and precise spell. Small, but evidently capable muscles moved under that skin that not even the puckered white skin of the scars could mar. Hair that glittered a brilliant copper in the soft candlelight and the lamps hanging from the high brackets of the classroom that shone and caught his eye like some gold-threaded fabric. Those adorable lips pouting and pursing themselves in turn as she paused over a specific word, tapping the end of her quill on her chin.
He took a step back then, grabbed his satchel and nearly ran out of the room. Nagini, also in that selfsame class noticed this better than most because she had been watching him, and the effect Hermione Granger had on him. She wrinkled her nose. The girl was a mudblood, plain and simple. That the son of a Malfoy would actually think of someone of that particular breed differently was almost laughable. She shook his head. If the boy actually gave in to temptation for this… girl, then he was even weaker than she had ever imagined.
Closing her book with a snap, she swept out of the room. Foolish to rest on silly matters like these. There were more important things to worry about… like this Harry Potter for instance. He was not what she had expected at all. Her plans had to be adjusted, just the slightest bit to accommodate all this new information. But it would not stop her for long. Few things ever did.
~*~*~*~
End Chapter four.
Well? Okay, not okay, you tell me… okay? It's awfully hard not to have Draco suddenly melt all over Hermione and I have to work hard not to get too mushy. No one wants that (except in minimal doses) and Hermione can't suddenly be all moony-eyed over a guy she's hated for six years! But confusion is a very natural thing when tempted with the "forbidden fruit" as we shall put it. Give it time. Everything will fall into place. Eventually. I think. *grimace*
Anyway, REVIEW ME! I like reviews a lot. Especially reviews with more than just "like the fic, write more." Uh… cool… you want me to respond to that how? No offense to anyone who does write those, it's just asking only for a few seconds (and two more brain cells) to write a few more words. But then again… reviews are reviews. And big, big numbers of reviews I like looking at just as much! :D
