A/N: Soooo sorry for the wait guys, but I suffered a moderate case of
writer's block. Back, and on a roll now, so be ready for a bunch more
chapters! This one should please Miss Fortune a bit (Lord knows she loves
her R/Hrm!), but don't worry D/Hrm Fans, this is only a segue into a lot
more romance and angst. Anyway, read, relax and review. In the meantime,
I'll be sipping my Darjeeling tea. Anyone care for a cup?
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Draco Malfoy stared at the fuming Pansy Parkinson. Her eyes were slitted and her nose scrunched up. From this angle, she was really beginning to resemble a roasted pig, all flushed and fatty.
"You've been gone all night! It's nearly one in the morning! You left without telling anyone where you were going. You left without telling ME where you were going! It's inconsiderate! Where were you?" She nearly roared.
Draco only stared at her, wearied.
"Well, Draco, where were you?" Pansy demanded, fists balling up.
"I was out." Draco tiredly said.
"Out where?"
*This bitch is really sounding like a wife.* Draco thought to himself. He remembered the robes he was holding. "Out looking for my Quidditch robes. See?" He shook the green cloth in front of her face. "Satisfied?"
"No, no I'm not satisfied! Why didn't you tell me? I could have looked with you."
"I didn't want to bother you." Draco said sleepily.
Pansy watched him suspiciously. "And how on earth did you lose your Quidditch robes?"
Draco shrugged. "I was getting hot after practice, so I took them off. Can I go to bed now?" He played it very calmly; after all, it was true-- in a sense.
Pansy looked somewhat more content. She gazed at him for a moment, considering his statements, and then nodded. "I'm sorry sweetie. I should have been more understanding. It's just that Millicent said she had seen you going around with that ass Granger. It got me upset. It's stupid, I know." She giggled, and he half-heartedly chucked, muttering how something like that would never happen.
"Well, I'm sorry for being hard on you. You go off to bed, Draco Darling." Pansy blew him a kiss. Draco smiled slightly back at her, and started walking to the boys' dormitories. Pansy caught note of his gait.
"Umm, Draco, why are you limping?"
He turned to face her from the open dormitory door. "Tripped on a trick stair. Almost fell through. Night."
Draco quietly closed the door on a dumfounded Pansy Parkinson.
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"So where'd you go? Find any new passageways? Anything not listed on the Marauder's Map? Do something really illegal? How many rules did you break? Six? Seven?" Harry only stopped his questioning to take a sip of hot mulled apple cider. Ron was silently eyeing Hermione, stuffing his cheeks full of pumpkin pancakes. Harry leaned forward anxiously. "Must have been really good if you had to take the invisibility cloak!"
Hermione looked up, puffy eyed and sleepy, from the newly delivered Daily Prophet. She was nursing a very generously poured cup of coffee. "Harry, you have all the energy of Colin Creevey on a sugar high. And right now, it's annoying me."
Harry laughed. "Aw, come on, 'Mione! We hate being left out like this. You know how much me and Ron enjoy adventures. Shit, we've been on enough ourselves." He struck Ron on the back, causing his to just about choke on a half-eaten piece of pancake.
"It wasn't an adventure." Hermione said as she took a bite of her gooseberry jam tart. She looked up and spotted Draco Malfoy, who was watching her from between his Slytherin schoolmates. She quickly felt the heat rising to her face, and looked down. "Besides, even if it was, I couldn't tell you about it."
Ron washed down his breakfast with a big gulp of pumpkin juice. "So it's a secret, huh? That means we'll find out about it eventually, eh Harry?"
Harry grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "It'll only take a little investigating."
Hermione suddenly felt very self-conscious, all these eyes fixed on her-- Ron, Harry, Draco. She put down her breakfast, no longer hungry, and mumbled her wish to get to classes early as she got up from the table. Gathering her things, she quickly walked out of the hall.
Halfway up the flight of stairs to Transfiguration, Hermione felt a presence. She smiled widely. It had to be him. He had come to talk to her, risk everything being made public. He had cared enough to see she was upset at breakfast. He. . .
Hermione turned around, and the smile dropped.
Standing in front of her, mere inches from her face, was Pansy Parkinson. She sneered a cold hello.
"Well, if it isn't the Granger Git. How's the morning, Mudblood?" Pansy's eyes narrowed.
Hermione faced Pansy, eye to eye. Lack of sleep gave her little patience and a lot of nerve. "Wonderful, I imagine. After all, I didn't see your face when I looked in the mirror."
"Watch it, Granger, or I may find a way to take a weedwhacker to that thatch of yours. It's really interesting anyway, though. You look like a Mudblood Medusa."
Hermione sarcastically smiled. "Gee, I can see how much better you full- bloods are. Just look at your manners!"
Pansy's lip curled up. "We save our good manners for those who count, Mudblood."
"And our intelligence as well, it seems."
Pansy growled harshly. Hermione cut her off. "Just what exactly do you want, Pansy?"
"I want you to know that I've heard about you and your little thing for Draco." Her fists clenched till her knuckled cracked. "And I know that Draco wants nothing to do with you, and has kept clear of you. But if I hear one word, just one word, about you doing anything to take him away from me, you will pay dearly."
Inside, Hermione's stomach was doing flip-flops, but on the outside she fixed a cool demeanor. "Why Pansy, there's no need to get jealous. What would I want with Malfoy anyway? Especially after he's been with you. Lord only knows what disease one could pick up from him now."
Pansy lunged forward, grabbing Hermione around the neck. She quickly counteracted with a swift but aimless right hook. Pansy let out a squeal, the side of her skull throbbing. Slapping and snarling, they hurtled to the floor, rolling and hitting and sparring. A fairly small group of male students had gathered around, excitedly murmuring about the ensuing catfight. Hermione pounded her fist into Pansy's gut, who was busy roughly kicking Hermione in the shins, hands still scratching at her face. Colin Creevey, tiny as he was, was able to squeeze his way through the crowd and began snapping pictures of the scene, just as Hermione managed to tear out a chunk of Pansy's hair. She screamed in agony, causing Hermione to smile in her small victory, but suddenly she felt the two being separated.
The rage in her caused Hermione to struggle forward, arms outstretched and teeth bared, for the distancing Pansy. Her right hand still firmly clutched the strands of Pansy's locks. It took a few moments for her to realize she would not get out of the solid grip she was in, finally allowing her mind to cool and to focus on the area around her. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Ron was restraining her, a look of concern on his freckled face. Hermione suddenly felt a flush of warmth-- he had come to help her when she needed it.
"You bloody bitch! I'll get you for what u did! I swear it!" Pansy screeched angrily, calling Hermione's attention towards her. She tried to lurch forward, but her arms were held tightly by Draco Malfoy, his face molded into his usual look, one eyebrow cocked. Pansy composed herself with his presence. She looked up at him in a mixture of appreciation and anger.
His deep voice imposed over the crowd's now whispers. "Are you alright?" He was staring coolly at Hermione, but Pansy answered him.
"I'm fine, Draco darling. But that Mudblood tried to attack me!"
Half-surprised that Pansy would answer him, he gaze shot down towards her expectant face. She bore a forming lump on her forehead and the scratches of an animalistic fight. But instead of feeling sorry for her, Draco was disgusted. His father's words rang in his head: "A true lady fights only for protection, either of you or of herself." And somehow, Draco was near certain that Pansy was not acting on self-defense.
In spite of all his disgust, Draco pulled his thoughts together. To give away his opinions now, in word or action, would arouse suspicion. And the last thing he intended to do was to be caught, especially when the plan was working so well. He had Granger wrapped around his finger. She liked him, and he liked. . .*No,* he thought. *I could never. Father would disapprove. She's a Mudblood. A filthy fucking Mudblood.* Draco had to gain control of the situation. He had to behave the way he was expected.
Draco stiffened his stance and thrust up his chin. "I'm sure, Weasel, that you can keep the dirty Mudblood bitch under control from now on. That won't be too hard for you, now will it?"
"Not half as hard as I can make life for you, you little shit." Ron spit back.
"Oh, I quiver right down to the quills. You have nothing to fear from me, poor boy. . . unless of course you're nervous that you'll lose your cheap little slut to me. Not that I would ever stoop so low as to fuck a swine-y little Mudblood."
Ron's eyes could have shot daggers his way, but what Draco noticed more was the confused and hurt look on Hermione's face. She now curled slightly into Ron's arms, her eyes turned down to the floor. It was as if she had been kicked in the stomach, and it sent an oddly tight feeling to Draco's chest. He brushed off her look to the wallop she had received from Pansy only moments before.
Ron growled. "Keep your git of a girlfriend far away from mine, Malfoy. Or I will make you regret it."
Draco smirked. "I'm sure you will. Perhaps on the Quidditch field then? You certainly made quite a wonderful seeker last year, didn't you?" The surrounding Slytherins snickered.
Ron huffed, ears turning a bright red, and he quickly escorted Hermione out of the hallway. She turned a sad but surprised face towards him.
"Did you mean it? What you said?" She took her proffered school bag, which Ron had hauled up from the floor.
Ron looked nervously at the floor. "Said about what?"
"About me being your girlfriend."
"Well. . .I-I. . .I. . ." He stammered fiercely as they made their way to the transfiguration classroom door. "I've always liked you, 'Mione. Never liked anyone else. . .well, except for that Fleur Delaceur." He stopped and blinked, realizing what he said. He quickly raced for an excuse. "But she was part veela! It wasn't really my fault! I couldn't help myself! She. . ."
Hermione silenced him with a raised hand. "You don't have to explain to me. I've read up on all that ages ago."
Ron settled and sighed, relaxing a bit. "Well, the point is, I haven't fancied anyone but you. I feel pretty strongly about this. The really fancying part, I mean. And I hope you feel the same way too. . .about me, that is." Inwardly, he cringed. She was making him nervous again. "Y-you do feel the same way, don't you?"
Hermione stood and gaped at him. A flash of Draco's face appeared in her mind, accompanied with all that had occurred between them, but she shoved it all away with force. *You've ruined many sleep-filled nights for me, Malfoy. But you are not ruining this for me now.* Hermione winced, remembering his words. *Not after what you said.* Hermione stood tall, and looked Ron in the eye. This was the one who came to her aide when she needed it. This was the one who stood up for her, all those times Malfoy or Pansy made comments. This was her friend. She knew the answer she should give.
"Yes, I feel the same way. I never thought you'd ever make a move though."
Ron's face brightened, a huge smile forming on his face. "You do!? You do!" Catching himself in his over-enthusiasm, he took a new self-possession, and tried to speak with a deeper, more masculine voice. It made Hermione smile. "I-I mean, you do. Of course you do." Ugh, this wasn't working for him either! Ron again felt his nervousness return. "So. . .umm, Hermione, would you, umm, accompany me this weekend to Hogsmeade?"
Hermione giggled. "Ron, we always go to Hogsmeade together. Harry usually comes along too. Remember?"
"Right, right, of course, but this time it's kind of different. Harry can come along if he's like, I guess. But this time it's different."
Hermione didn't really see how it was, but she shrugged and made her way into Transfiguration. Was she happy? Yes. But it was marred by something more. Malfoy. Goddamn Malfoy. *He said he cared.* Hermione thought. *Well, if he cared, then he never would have said what he said. He never would have called me that.* She sighed, remembering what he had said the night before. Could she really ever take him seriously? He was a Malfoy after all; there was very little to trust there. But why would he lie about all that? Why would he play any games with her. Hermione averted her thoughts away from that. She was happy now. Ron had finally asked her out. This was a moment to be rejoicing.
Somehow she didn't feel like it.
Hermione set her things out at her desk, hoping that class would take her mind off things. There was work to do, and, as was her way, she was intent on doing it.
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Draco Malfoy stared at the fuming Pansy Parkinson. Her eyes were slitted and her nose scrunched up. From this angle, she was really beginning to resemble a roasted pig, all flushed and fatty.
"You've been gone all night! It's nearly one in the morning! You left without telling anyone where you were going. You left without telling ME where you were going! It's inconsiderate! Where were you?" She nearly roared.
Draco only stared at her, wearied.
"Well, Draco, where were you?" Pansy demanded, fists balling up.
"I was out." Draco tiredly said.
"Out where?"
*This bitch is really sounding like a wife.* Draco thought to himself. He remembered the robes he was holding. "Out looking for my Quidditch robes. See?" He shook the green cloth in front of her face. "Satisfied?"
"No, no I'm not satisfied! Why didn't you tell me? I could have looked with you."
"I didn't want to bother you." Draco said sleepily.
Pansy watched him suspiciously. "And how on earth did you lose your Quidditch robes?"
Draco shrugged. "I was getting hot after practice, so I took them off. Can I go to bed now?" He played it very calmly; after all, it was true-- in a sense.
Pansy looked somewhat more content. She gazed at him for a moment, considering his statements, and then nodded. "I'm sorry sweetie. I should have been more understanding. It's just that Millicent said she had seen you going around with that ass Granger. It got me upset. It's stupid, I know." She giggled, and he half-heartedly chucked, muttering how something like that would never happen.
"Well, I'm sorry for being hard on you. You go off to bed, Draco Darling." Pansy blew him a kiss. Draco smiled slightly back at her, and started walking to the boys' dormitories. Pansy caught note of his gait.
"Umm, Draco, why are you limping?"
He turned to face her from the open dormitory door. "Tripped on a trick stair. Almost fell through. Night."
Draco quietly closed the door on a dumfounded Pansy Parkinson.
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"So where'd you go? Find any new passageways? Anything not listed on the Marauder's Map? Do something really illegal? How many rules did you break? Six? Seven?" Harry only stopped his questioning to take a sip of hot mulled apple cider. Ron was silently eyeing Hermione, stuffing his cheeks full of pumpkin pancakes. Harry leaned forward anxiously. "Must have been really good if you had to take the invisibility cloak!"
Hermione looked up, puffy eyed and sleepy, from the newly delivered Daily Prophet. She was nursing a very generously poured cup of coffee. "Harry, you have all the energy of Colin Creevey on a sugar high. And right now, it's annoying me."
Harry laughed. "Aw, come on, 'Mione! We hate being left out like this. You know how much me and Ron enjoy adventures. Shit, we've been on enough ourselves." He struck Ron on the back, causing his to just about choke on a half-eaten piece of pancake.
"It wasn't an adventure." Hermione said as she took a bite of her gooseberry jam tart. She looked up and spotted Draco Malfoy, who was watching her from between his Slytherin schoolmates. She quickly felt the heat rising to her face, and looked down. "Besides, even if it was, I couldn't tell you about it."
Ron washed down his breakfast with a big gulp of pumpkin juice. "So it's a secret, huh? That means we'll find out about it eventually, eh Harry?"
Harry grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "It'll only take a little investigating."
Hermione suddenly felt very self-conscious, all these eyes fixed on her-- Ron, Harry, Draco. She put down her breakfast, no longer hungry, and mumbled her wish to get to classes early as she got up from the table. Gathering her things, she quickly walked out of the hall.
Halfway up the flight of stairs to Transfiguration, Hermione felt a presence. She smiled widely. It had to be him. He had come to talk to her, risk everything being made public. He had cared enough to see she was upset at breakfast. He. . .
Hermione turned around, and the smile dropped.
Standing in front of her, mere inches from her face, was Pansy Parkinson. She sneered a cold hello.
"Well, if it isn't the Granger Git. How's the morning, Mudblood?" Pansy's eyes narrowed.
Hermione faced Pansy, eye to eye. Lack of sleep gave her little patience and a lot of nerve. "Wonderful, I imagine. After all, I didn't see your face when I looked in the mirror."
"Watch it, Granger, or I may find a way to take a weedwhacker to that thatch of yours. It's really interesting anyway, though. You look like a Mudblood Medusa."
Hermione sarcastically smiled. "Gee, I can see how much better you full- bloods are. Just look at your manners!"
Pansy's lip curled up. "We save our good manners for those who count, Mudblood."
"And our intelligence as well, it seems."
Pansy growled harshly. Hermione cut her off. "Just what exactly do you want, Pansy?"
"I want you to know that I've heard about you and your little thing for Draco." Her fists clenched till her knuckled cracked. "And I know that Draco wants nothing to do with you, and has kept clear of you. But if I hear one word, just one word, about you doing anything to take him away from me, you will pay dearly."
Inside, Hermione's stomach was doing flip-flops, but on the outside she fixed a cool demeanor. "Why Pansy, there's no need to get jealous. What would I want with Malfoy anyway? Especially after he's been with you. Lord only knows what disease one could pick up from him now."
Pansy lunged forward, grabbing Hermione around the neck. She quickly counteracted with a swift but aimless right hook. Pansy let out a squeal, the side of her skull throbbing. Slapping and snarling, they hurtled to the floor, rolling and hitting and sparring. A fairly small group of male students had gathered around, excitedly murmuring about the ensuing catfight. Hermione pounded her fist into Pansy's gut, who was busy roughly kicking Hermione in the shins, hands still scratching at her face. Colin Creevey, tiny as he was, was able to squeeze his way through the crowd and began snapping pictures of the scene, just as Hermione managed to tear out a chunk of Pansy's hair. She screamed in agony, causing Hermione to smile in her small victory, but suddenly she felt the two being separated.
The rage in her caused Hermione to struggle forward, arms outstretched and teeth bared, for the distancing Pansy. Her right hand still firmly clutched the strands of Pansy's locks. It took a few moments for her to realize she would not get out of the solid grip she was in, finally allowing her mind to cool and to focus on the area around her. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Ron was restraining her, a look of concern on his freckled face. Hermione suddenly felt a flush of warmth-- he had come to help her when she needed it.
"You bloody bitch! I'll get you for what u did! I swear it!" Pansy screeched angrily, calling Hermione's attention towards her. She tried to lurch forward, but her arms were held tightly by Draco Malfoy, his face molded into his usual look, one eyebrow cocked. Pansy composed herself with his presence. She looked up at him in a mixture of appreciation and anger.
His deep voice imposed over the crowd's now whispers. "Are you alright?" He was staring coolly at Hermione, but Pansy answered him.
"I'm fine, Draco darling. But that Mudblood tried to attack me!"
Half-surprised that Pansy would answer him, he gaze shot down towards her expectant face. She bore a forming lump on her forehead and the scratches of an animalistic fight. But instead of feeling sorry for her, Draco was disgusted. His father's words rang in his head: "A true lady fights only for protection, either of you or of herself." And somehow, Draco was near certain that Pansy was not acting on self-defense.
In spite of all his disgust, Draco pulled his thoughts together. To give away his opinions now, in word or action, would arouse suspicion. And the last thing he intended to do was to be caught, especially when the plan was working so well. He had Granger wrapped around his finger. She liked him, and he liked. . .*No,* he thought. *I could never. Father would disapprove. She's a Mudblood. A filthy fucking Mudblood.* Draco had to gain control of the situation. He had to behave the way he was expected.
Draco stiffened his stance and thrust up his chin. "I'm sure, Weasel, that you can keep the dirty Mudblood bitch under control from now on. That won't be too hard for you, now will it?"
"Not half as hard as I can make life for you, you little shit." Ron spit back.
"Oh, I quiver right down to the quills. You have nothing to fear from me, poor boy. . . unless of course you're nervous that you'll lose your cheap little slut to me. Not that I would ever stoop so low as to fuck a swine-y little Mudblood."
Ron's eyes could have shot daggers his way, but what Draco noticed more was the confused and hurt look on Hermione's face. She now curled slightly into Ron's arms, her eyes turned down to the floor. It was as if she had been kicked in the stomach, and it sent an oddly tight feeling to Draco's chest. He brushed off her look to the wallop she had received from Pansy only moments before.
Ron growled. "Keep your git of a girlfriend far away from mine, Malfoy. Or I will make you regret it."
Draco smirked. "I'm sure you will. Perhaps on the Quidditch field then? You certainly made quite a wonderful seeker last year, didn't you?" The surrounding Slytherins snickered.
Ron huffed, ears turning a bright red, and he quickly escorted Hermione out of the hallway. She turned a sad but surprised face towards him.
"Did you mean it? What you said?" She took her proffered school bag, which Ron had hauled up from the floor.
Ron looked nervously at the floor. "Said about what?"
"About me being your girlfriend."
"Well. . .I-I. . .I. . ." He stammered fiercely as they made their way to the transfiguration classroom door. "I've always liked you, 'Mione. Never liked anyone else. . .well, except for that Fleur Delaceur." He stopped and blinked, realizing what he said. He quickly raced for an excuse. "But she was part veela! It wasn't really my fault! I couldn't help myself! She. . ."
Hermione silenced him with a raised hand. "You don't have to explain to me. I've read up on all that ages ago."
Ron settled and sighed, relaxing a bit. "Well, the point is, I haven't fancied anyone but you. I feel pretty strongly about this. The really fancying part, I mean. And I hope you feel the same way too. . .about me, that is." Inwardly, he cringed. She was making him nervous again. "Y-you do feel the same way, don't you?"
Hermione stood and gaped at him. A flash of Draco's face appeared in her mind, accompanied with all that had occurred between them, but she shoved it all away with force. *You've ruined many sleep-filled nights for me, Malfoy. But you are not ruining this for me now.* Hermione winced, remembering his words. *Not after what you said.* Hermione stood tall, and looked Ron in the eye. This was the one who came to her aide when she needed it. This was the one who stood up for her, all those times Malfoy or Pansy made comments. This was her friend. She knew the answer she should give.
"Yes, I feel the same way. I never thought you'd ever make a move though."
Ron's face brightened, a huge smile forming on his face. "You do!? You do!" Catching himself in his over-enthusiasm, he took a new self-possession, and tried to speak with a deeper, more masculine voice. It made Hermione smile. "I-I mean, you do. Of course you do." Ugh, this wasn't working for him either! Ron again felt his nervousness return. "So. . .umm, Hermione, would you, umm, accompany me this weekend to Hogsmeade?"
Hermione giggled. "Ron, we always go to Hogsmeade together. Harry usually comes along too. Remember?"
"Right, right, of course, but this time it's kind of different. Harry can come along if he's like, I guess. But this time it's different."
Hermione didn't really see how it was, but she shrugged and made her way into Transfiguration. Was she happy? Yes. But it was marred by something more. Malfoy. Goddamn Malfoy. *He said he cared.* Hermione thought. *Well, if he cared, then he never would have said what he said. He never would have called me that.* She sighed, remembering what he had said the night before. Could she really ever take him seriously? He was a Malfoy after all; there was very little to trust there. But why would he lie about all that? Why would he play any games with her. Hermione averted her thoughts away from that. She was happy now. Ron had finally asked her out. This was a moment to be rejoicing.
Somehow she didn't feel like it.
Hermione set her things out at her desk, hoping that class would take her mind off things. There was work to do, and, as was her way, she was intent on doing it.