Hermione awoke with a start. She looked at her watch. Three P.M. She got
up. Harry, still sleeping, muttered, "Don't leave!" Hermione thought she
should go for class. "Mom! Sirius is gone! Dad, Snape is coming for me!"
Hermione thought it would be rude to leave Harry, so she shook him awake.
"Harry! You missed three of your four classes. Snape's going to kill you! Don't be late for Dumbledore!"
"Mum!" He grabbed Hermione's hand.
"Wake up!" She shook him. His eyes flew open.
"Shit!" he yelled, looking at his watch. "Snape's going to give me detention! I'll be late for Dumbledore!"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" shrieked Hermione, grabbing his hand and pulling him up, ignoring his use of profanity. "Let's go!"
While they were running, Harry panted, "I'm sorry! This is all my fault. I made you drink wine! I don't regret mission Potions, though! Do you?"
"Well, we were learning a good Potion today!" she complained. "But I was with you, and I would rather be kissing you than admitting that Snape knows more about Potions than I do and accepting the fact that he has to teach me what he knows." Harry laughed.
"You do have a point!" he said. "But I'd rather be doing anything else than even looking at Snape." Hermione looked affronted. "Not as a diss to you, or anything," added Harry quickly. They skidded to a halt in front of the DADA classroom. Hermione looked at her watch again: 3:15. Class started in five minutes, so they weren't late, thankfully. Dumbledore only took the DADA job to teach Harry. If Harry didn't show up, Dumbledore would be mad.
"Harry, we really need to get to our seats. Dumbledore will be here any minute." She turned and walked to her seat. "And really, the Slytherins will be wondering why we weren't at Potions. Thank God Malfoy isn't in this class. You did do your homework, didn't you?" She was just about to wonder if Harry was even in DADA, then she decided he wasn't because he was in Malfoy's body on Monday. "Never mind," she said. "You weren't here Monday. Malfoy didn't do your homework for you!" When she didn't hear a reaction, she turned back to where Harry's seat was, but it was empty. Thinking he was playing a trick on her, she looked in the closet and the corridor. No Harry to be seen.
"Harry?" she called tentatively, but she knew it was useless. She was sure of what happened; Harry had been grabbed by Malfoy. Then she realized she didn't have her books. She knew it was pretty useless to be at class without Harry when he could be in danger. She decided to go out and look for him. She ran into Neville and Ron coming in.
"Where have you been?" asked Ron.
"Oh!" gasped Hermione. "Um... Hospital wing; bad stomachache."
"And Harry got it too?" Ron asked sarcastically.
"He wasn't at classes?" wondered Hermione innocently. "That's odd."
"Do you think Malfoy got him?" said Ron, oblivious to the fact that Neville was right there.
"What do you mean?" wondered Neville.
"Oh," said Hermione. "Nothing, Neville. Could you tell Dumbledore we're sorry we couldn't come? Bye!" She grabbed Ron's hand. "Let's go!" Ron froze momentarily at the touch of her hand. "Ron!"
"Oh!" said Ron, coming out of his trance. "Yeah. Come one!" They sprinted off to first look in the Slytherin common room, where Harry in Malfoy's body would most likely be.
"Um, pureblood!" Hermione gasped, remembering that she had been given all the passwords.
"Hermione, I don't think we should be going in there."
"Fine," said Hermione angrily. "Wait out here for me then." She climbed through the door.
She heard cries of "What the hell?" and "Gryffindor attack!"
Pansy screamed, "Mudblood invasion!" Apparently she was channeling Malfoy's anti-mudblood attitude. Hermione suddenly wondered if that rumor about her and Draco was true.
Draco? she thought to herself. You call him Draco? Sicko, Hermione! "Parkinson!" shrieked Hermione. "Have you seen Dr- I mean, Malfoy?"
"What do you want with him?" She glared at Hermione. "He's my man."
Hermione was tempted to say, "If I had a say in it, he wouldn't be." She really didn't know how such a sexy guy like Malfoy could like someone as ugly as Pansy. Hermione wasn't vain, but she knew even she was prettier than Pansy. "Come on, Parkinson!" she said.
"Why should I tell you?"
"Because I'll give you ten galleons!" cried Hermione desperately. Pansy looked gleeful.
"He went to his room. I'll go get him. He was acting really weird. Hand over the money, Granger."
"Not until you get him!"
"But if you make one move on him," started Pansy.
"Why would I?" asked Hermione, though she knew there were a few reasons. "He's a Slytherin and he's totally stupid."
"You're right," said Pansy. "He's too good for you. I'll be right back." She climbed the stairs. Hermione, while waiting, thought how cold the Slytheirn common room was. There was one small, sick-looking fire. There were a few armchairs. Overall, she thought Gryffindor common room was so much better. She didn't know how Malfoy could stand it here, as he was used to royalty at home. "Yeah. She says she needs to talk to you." Pansy's voice was floating down the stairs, and Hermione could hear their footsteps.
"What the hell does she want, Pansy?" Draco asked.
"I don't know, but come back soon, Dracie."
"Don't call me that. You know I hate it," grumbled Malfoy irritably.
"Okay, but come back soon. I want to go to dinner with you." Draco entered the common room.
"Oh, Christ!" he sighed. "Just looking at her! I'm going back upstairs."
"No!" said Hermione forcefully. "Malfoy, Dumbledore wants you."
"Wait!" called Pansy. "My money!"
"I'll bring it tomorrow!"
"If you don't, you're gonna get it!"
"Malfoy! Get over here this instant!" screamed Hermione.
"Yes, mother!" said Malfoy sarcastically, in a bored voice. "Wait! Don't open the door; you'll get it dirty. I will." He opened the door and held it open. "Ladies first." He smirked. Though she knew it was really Harry in there, Hermione couldn't help but think he was so sexy. Ron apparently had left, because he wasn't outside the door.
"Harry! What happened? Did Malfoy get you?" Hermione asked in a worried tone.
Shit! thought Draco. She thinks I switched back with Potter. In reality, Draco hadn't switched back. But catching on, he played Harry's part. "Yeah," he said. "But really, I'm fine. He'll switch us back soon. He hates being in my body, surrounded by Gryffindors and with you and, um, Ron." He had almost forgotten Weasley's first name.
"Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you're okay." And with that, she pulled him into a warm kiss. This is good, she thought. I get the great personality and the hot looks.
Draco, however, was shocked and thought, Hell, she kisses great! The main reason he was switching bodies with Potter all came down to his father. He remembered back to the previous summer.
* * * *
"Draco, now that you are seventeen and an adult, you need to think about your service to the Dark Lord," Lucius had said. Draco hated how he said his name: harsh and cruel, unlike his mother's soft voice. In truth, Draco didn't want to disobey his father, but he knew of much better things to do with his life than be a Death Eater. He like the whole Slytherin and pureblood thing, but man, was Voldemort taking it a little too far. He had no choice but to do what his father said, though.
"Yes, father," he replied respectfully.
"I was speaking to him last week, Draco, and do you know what he told me?"
"No, father."
"Well, some pretty big news I'm sure you'll find shocking. He says that the mudblood at your school, what's her name?"
"Granger?" supplied Draco.
"Yes. The Dark Lord says she really isn't a mudblood. She was born to witches and wizards, but her father had more important things to do in life, and her mother died giving birth." Draco was shocked. All of his disses and torture to Granger had been for nothing.
"What did he do with her?" inquired Draco.
"Put her up for adoption in a muggle orphanage, poor thing."
"Is her father still alive? Where is he?"
"She was adopted by muggles and doesn't know who her real dad is." Draco was dying to find out.
"Who is it, father?" he asked eagerly.
"None other than the Dark Lord himself," sighed Lucius.
* * * *
The words echoed in his head as he was kissing Hermione. None other than the Dark Lord himself. None other than the Dark Lord himself. Now Draco was on orders from his dad. He was to somehow get Hermione to like him so he could impregnate her to ensure Voldemort that he had another heir in the unlikely even that Hermione died. He hated Granger, but he liked his job, because boy, was Hermione hott with two t's.
Hermione noticed that Harry's kiss changed. It was no longer powerful, but gentle and compassionate. She also notice he didn't go for the tongue again. Draco thought he should take it slowly. All of a sudden, the Slytherin common room door opened and Pansy walked out.
"What's taking you so-!" she dropped her bag and screamed. "Draco Malfoy! What in the name of Merlin are you doing?"
"Oh, shit!" he yelled. "God! Sorry, Pansy. She um, um..." but what Hermione was doing, he didn't know. "Sorry, Pansy!"
"No, Malfoy!" That is the last straw!" she shrieked. "I took you back every time you cheated on me! Even when I found out you slept with Bulstrode for money! Enough!" She slammed the door back closed and hurried up the stairs.
"Hey, Harry," said Hermione. "It looks like Malfoy and her have got issues they need to clean up."
"Damn right. Sure as hell we do."
"What?"
Draco, recognizing his mistake, said, "They sure do."
"But we don't," said Hermione. She leaned over and kissed him again.
"Dude, um-'' he started, pulling away. What's her name? Shit! I forgot! he thought. "Oh yeah, Hermione. How 'bout we take this to your room?"
"Okay. Let's go." She took his hand and skipped happily out of the dungeons. Damn! she thought. His hands are softer than Harry's body's.
Oh, God! Granger is so sexy! he thought. But I still hate her.
"Malfoy sucks." Hermione said the password.
Hey! thought Draco. I don't like that password. They walked in and Hermione pulled him to the couch, pressing her lips to his. Again, Draco couldn't do anything about it because she was too damn good. So he returned the kiss with passion and gentleness. Hermione noticed the change in the kiss again. It seemed oddly familiar.
What is wrong with him? she thought. He French-kissed me last time. Why not now? She broke apart.
"Damn, Hermione. You are so good," he said aloud. He was even surprised at himself when he said this. He was so entranced by Granger that he accidentally added, "Better than Pansy, even."
Hermione shrieked. "What?"
"Just kidding," he added hastily. But Hermione wasn't stupid; she put two and two together. She suddenly remembered: the kiss was like the one that Draco have her on the first day of term that night when she didn't know it was him. She realized it was Draco Malfoy that she had just been kissing.
"You!" said Hermione. "Leave!"
"What?" asked Draco, playing dumb. "What did I do?"
"You're Malfoy!" Draco thought he couldn't pretend to be innocent any more; she was smarter than she looked.
"That's my name. Don't wear it out."
"Oh! You horrible, lying, little-!"
"Little what?" asked Draco sweetly, smirking. "I know lots of names that could fir. Little hot guy, little sexy dude, little irresistible."
"How could you?" Hermione asked, her eyes tearing. "That was absolutely unnecessary! You could have just said you weren't Harry, obviously, and left. But pretending you were? What are you playing at?"
"You!" he said, leaning closer.
"I don't believe you! After six years of enmity you're telling me you like me? I refuse to listen. Get out of my face!"
"Your sexy face?" asked Malfoy, smirking again. Hermione blinked away tears. She wasn't going to take it. She remembered the last time she was this angry at Malfoy. She thought back to third year, when she had slapped him across the face. "You know you want me, Granger," he said. Then he thought, She looks so damn sexy when she's mad. I bet Potter doesn't realize how lucky he is.
Hermione thought and carefully picked her next words. "Why would you like me all of a sudden?"
"Oh, it's not all of a sudden, Granger," said Draco. "It's been since the first day here. That's not true, thought Draco, but if he was going to do this, he might as well do it correctly.
"Like I believe you," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "You want something from me."
"Damn right I do. And it starts with a V."
"Oh, you sick-minded son of a Death Eater!" Hermione laughed in her head. Usually that was an insult, but in Malfoy's situation, it was true. She mustered up her strength and slapped him. He suddenly stopped smirking and became serious.
"Okay," he said. "I can see I should be leaving."
"Right now!" said Hermione, pointing to the door, her hand on her hip.
"Going," said Draco reluctantly.
"And don't ever talk to me again!"
* * * *
Draco walked back to the dormitory, not really knowing where his feet were taking him. I've never seen such a bitch, he thought. Worse than Pansy! Well, at least I don't have to date Pansy anymore. It was true. His father only made him date Pansy because he said that she was a "nice, respectful, pureblood girl." Draco hated Pansy, all right. She was ugly and thought she was hot with fifty t's. She thought Draco was going to propose to her. Draco cheated on her all the time because he was trying to find the best girl for him. Then Draco found out he had to go after Hermione, so if Pansy caught him kissing Hermione, which she did, he could care less because he could dump her now. He had Hermione to think about, and to tell the truth, he couldn't stop thinking of how great her kiss was: so warm and loving. Then anger ran through his veins, and he wanted to kick something, or a someone named Potter, at the moment. Obviously he and Hermione had kissed before. It wasn't fair. Why did Potter get all the good stuff?
"He doesn't," said a little voice in the back of his head. "He's good at Quidditch and DADA. He definitely doesn't have a family like you." It was true. Draco had a family. Not that that counted, though.
Sometimes he was jealous of Harry for having a dead dad. Lucius was on his nerves 24/7. "One more non-passing grade and you'll be grounded when you come home for the summer." "The Dark Lord says this and the Dark Lord says that." Draco was sick of the damn Dark Lord. He wanted to do what he wanted to do in life, not be ordered around by a lunatic that was uglier than Pansy. But he couldn't tell his father that. Thinking about Pansy made him think about Hermione again. He was dreaming pleasantly about how good she was and how he'd love to kiss her again.
"Get a grip, Draco," he said out loud to himself. "She's a Gryffindor."
Then the little voice said, "And? Before you thought she was a mudblood and hated her. Now you know she's not. What's wrong with liking her?"
Well, thought Draco. She's so different. Look, she hangs out with Potter. That's about as opposite as you can go from me.
"Ahem!" said the little voice. "Opposites attract!"
Oh, God, thought Draco. Shut up! Am I going mad? Talking to myself... He forced himself to think of how evil Hermione was, slapping him like that. That made the second time! Soon, he found himself angry at her. But he didn't like being angry at her, because even if he didn't want to admit it to himself, he wanted her. His temper rising, he found that his feet had carried him to the Slytherin common room.
"About time!" yelled Pansy. "It's 4:30! Where were you? With Granger? Tell your new girlfriend she owes me money!"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Parkinson. Calm down!" sighed Draco. "She's not my girlfriend.
"What do you mean?" Pansy asked suspiciously. Draco thought for thirty seconds. "Well?"
"I mean that you are!" said Draco. He thought by going out with Pansy, however stupid and ugly she was, he could take his mind off Hermione. He would still carry out his plans with Granger, of course.
"Oh, are you serious, Dracie?" said Pansy excitedly. "You want me back? You promise you won't cheat on me ever again?"
With difficulty, Draco tried to restrain himself from rolling his eyes at Pansy's use of his nickname again and repeated, "Yes, I promise. I love you, Pansy." Pansy gasped.
"Oh, me too! Me too, Draco."
Oh! Why did I say such a horrible thing! I don't love her, thought Draco. Who am I kidding? Am I trying to make Pansy happy? Why the hell did I say I loved her? I am not capable of loving. I am capable of being a Death Eater, not loving. I think I like my mom a lot. She sticks up for me against father, but I don't think I love her. I don't know what love is. Draco's thoughts were cut off when Pansy leaned over to kiss him. He pushed her away. He couldn't stand her kissing. She sucked like a leech. Plus, there were tons of people watching. "Damn, Pansy. Not here," he said.
"You're right," she agreed. "This calls for my room."
"I didn't mean that," said Draco, resisting the urge to fake vomit thinking of the sight of Pansy naked. Millicent was bad enough. He had needed her for the money. After he had gotten a D on his final exam for Transfiguration the year before, his father said that he wasn't going to give him pocket money for a year. Pansy was an entirely different story. He had convinced his mom to send him money, and he didn't need to sleep with Pansy. Especially after that rumor that someone started saying he had slept with her. He shuddered at the thought.
Pansy looked affronted. "Why?" she asked. "There's still an hour before dinner."
"Well, Pansy-''- God, I hate that name, thought Draco- "I have to, um, go take a shower." Oh, is that a bad excuse or what? thought Draco. Apparently Pansy thought so, too.
"Then I'll come with you," she said.
"No!" shouted Malfoy, almost too quickly. "I mean, really. I'm not in
the mood."
In truth, he did need a shower, just not with Pansy. Definitely not. "I'm going to the Prefect bathroom," he said. "I'll meet you at dinner."
"Bye, baby," said Pansy.
"Bye, sugar," he returned. Shit! he thought. Did I just say that? He walked through the door and to the Prefect's bathroom. "Pine fresh," he muttered. They had never bothered in changing the password. Not a whole lot of people came in anyway. Today, there was someone there already. And it was a someone that pissed him off a lot: Harry Potter.
* * * *
Hermione was fuming as Malfoy left. The nerve of him! She decided to take a nap, but then she realized she still had to find out where Ron and Harry went and to tell them what had happened.
After looking for twenty minutes, she found them practicing Quidditch. "Boys," she muttered. "Harry! Ron! Come down here!" The obediently flew down.
"What?" asked Harry, getting off his Firebolt 6, the newest edition, given to him by Fudge for his 17th birthday. Fudge still felt the need apologize for all the trouble he caused Harry two years ago. Harry thought no broomstick in the world could apologize for the rejection and pain he'd felt that year, but the broom was great.
"I'll tell you what," said Hermione, regaining her anger. "Where did you go before DADA?"
"I said I was going to get my books. Didn't you hear me? Why weren't you in class?"
"Oh, my God," said Hermione.
"What?" asked Harry.
"Well, Ron and I thought Malfoy took you and switched you back," said Hermione.
"Crap!" swore Harry.
"Yeah, I know," replied Hermione gloomily.
"Well?" pressed Harry. "What did you do?" Here Hermione bit her lip. It was too painful to go on. "Well?"
"You see," said Hermione, "Ron and I, thinking you were in Malfoy's body, went to the Slytherin common room looking for you." And so she related the whole story to him and Ron. Harry looked horrified.
"Triple crap," he said.
"I know, Harry. What are we going to do?"
"Me and Ron have to take turns watching you," said Harry. "He's going to try to hurt you."
"Fine," said Hermione. She liked the idea of two muscular and hot bodyguards.
"Well, I'm going to take a shower now," said Harry.
"I'll take one after dinner," said Ron. Harry trudged up to the castle alone. "Hermione," Ron said, as soon as Harry was out of earshot, "why did you try to kiss him anyway? Even if he really was Harry, why would you?" He was scared of the answer because he knew he wouldn't like it. Hermione felt she couldn't hide the truth from Ron any longer.
"Um, Ron, I'm sorry, but we're going out." The truth stung Ron, and it echoed in his ears.
"Okay," he said in a hoarse voice. He left for the castle.
"This is a such a good day," said Hermione to herself sarcastically.
* * * *
Harry was soon in the Head Dorm. Looking in the bathroom, he saw it was spacious, but nowhere near as luxurious as the Prefect bathroom, so he decided to go there instead, even thought he wasn't a Prefect. He picked up new clothes to change into, a towel, some soap, and shampoo and hurried off. He entered after saying the password. He remembered the last time he'd been here: fourth year, since he never had been a Prefect. He looked at the giant pool and couldn't wait to jump in. He was about to turn on the tap when the door creaked open.
* * * *
Draco couldn't believe his eyes. "Potter?"
"Malfoy?" Harry returned with mutual enmity.
"Wow!" started Draco. "I came to take a shower and what should I find but the person I was going to go looking for after. What a coincidence, especially as you're not even a Prefect."
"Head Boy, Malfoy," said Harry.
"Oooh, I'm scared," said Malfoy sarcastically. Harry rolled his eyes. "So tell me, Potter, what's going on with you and Granger?"
"It's none of your business."
"Oh, I'm sure it's not, seeing as I am part of this little love triangle."
"You don't love her," said Harry.
"Of course I don't; I need her for other reasons. But does that mean you do?" There was a tense silence. "I seem to have struck a nerve, Potter. Answer me."
"And if I do?"
"Well, never mind; I know you do anyway. Getting on to more urgent business, I don't think I need to switch bodies with you anymore. Besides me hating being you, I have other methods of carrying out my job now."
"Which is what?" demanded Harry.
"Oh, just some business between your girlfriend and me," said Draco lazily.
"Don't you dare hurt her again," threatened Harry.
"See? You do love her," said Draco triumphantly. "And what do you mean not hurt her again?"
"She told me what you did to her today," said Harry. "And I don't like it at all. Not one damn bit of it."
"Yes, Potter," drawled Malfoy. "But as I have complete control over you, I can switch bodies and mess up your whole relationship, if that's what you call it."
He smirked.
"Why are you doing this?" asked Harry.
"Oh, it's like I said, Potter. I have business."
"Tell me, Malfoy," said Harry, grabbing his wand. Draco saw and raised his eyebrows.
"Just private stuff. Not important. Has to do with my father."
"Your father?" bellowed Harry. He hated Lucius Malfoy even more since he broke out of Azkaban.
"Yes, my father," said Draco. "A very influential man"-
"Who is a bastard and that I hate," cut in Harry.
"Yes, Potter, but unfortunately your opinion doesn't count, because when my father tells me to do something, I get it done. Even if it does include Granger."
"Don't go near her, Malfoy," warned Harry. "If she tells me you've made one move on her..."
"What would I?" said Draco, though he knew of hundreds of reasons.
"Because she's hot, sexy, and everything that you're not," retorted Harry.
"Pervert, you were actually checking me out?"
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Leave," Harry said.
"Oh, definitely," said Draco. "I wouldn't want to watch you taking a shower."
He turned and left.
He was mad, because now he had to take a shower in Crabbe and Goyle's bathroom or share with Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle's, he thought to himself. "Definitely. He quickly avoided Pansy once in the common room. He went to get his shower stuff when he realized he'd used all of his hair gel. Shit! He thought. I'll have to get some more. He found Crabbe eating in his bedroom. "Crabbe, I'm using your shower."
"Huh?"
"You idiot; I said I'm using your shower."
"Oh," Crabbe said, though Draco was sure he didn't hear. "Wait! Did you tuck her in yet?"
"No, you concussed troll. I won't be for a while," said Malfoy irritably.
"Oh, well, tell me when you do."
"I will for sure."
Draco entered the shower a few minutes later, the hot water helping his splitting headache. He quickly washed and got out, wrapping his towel around his waist. He didn't bother cleaning up the bathroom; the house elves could. He pulled on slightly baggy cargo khakis and a forest green short-sleeved polo shirt. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he decided he looked pretty sexy. His muscular arms showed. He owed those to the six years of playing Quidditch. He liked the look of a few platinum strands falling over his eyes. He never had gone without gel before, but now he realized that he looked better without it.
Am I trying to make myself look hot for Pansy? He wondered. Well, no, Granger's going to be there. And Potter will be jealous of my looks. Well, except the eyes. Blueish gray is good, but who can compete with shocking green? Not too many people have green eyes like that. His mum must have been hot...
Ruffling his hair so that it dried a little quicker, Draco walked down the stairs. The girls were watching, and Draco knew they thought he was hot. Pansy was nowhere to be seen, thank God. She was probably trying to make herself pretty, something she'd never achieve. Just to make Granger jealous, he decided to wait for Pansy so that they could walk down together. He sat down near the fire, if that was what you called it, and sank into deep thought.
* * * *
Harry decided he was too late to turn on a tub, thanks to Malfoy, so he took a shower. He tried to push Malfoy out of his mind so he wouldn't look concerned about something to Hermione.
He quickly washed up and pulled on khakis and a black polo shirt. He looked in the mirror and thought he looked goth, what with the black hair, glasses, and shirt. He ran back to the Head Dorm, pulled of his shirt, and threw on a white Ireland Quidditch Team T-shirt. Feeling very apprehensive, he walked out of his room.
He heard the door creak open, and Hermione entered. She looked like she'd been crying. He tried not to roll his eyes. Women, he thought. The only way they express emotions is by crying. "What's wrong?" he asked, trying to sound nice.
"I h-hate th-this life," she sobbed. "Everyone hates me."
"I don't," said Harry.
"Yeah, well," she cried, "that's everyone except you."
"What happened to you now?" asked Harry, his sympathy limited because of his previous conversation with Malfoy.
"R-ron!" she cried.
"What did he do?"
"Well," she said, tears still running, "he found out we were going out, and he just walked away. He looked like he wanted to kill me."
"Come here," said Harry. He sat down on the sofa, and Hermione laid down next to him, her head in his lap. "Wanna talk?"
"There's nothing to talk about," said Hermione. "I want to die."
"No you don't, Hermione," Harry said. "I've been through WAY worse than you. I survived. Really, if it's about anything I've been through, we can talk. And if it's not, talking still makes you feel better."
"You know, I'm fine, Harry. Really, you knocked some sense into me. Thanks. Just because Ron doesn't like us going out doesn't mean we shouldn't. That's his problem, because I"- She broke off. Did I almost say "I love you?" she thought. I do, but I can't say that yet.
"What?" asked Harry.
"Never mind," said Hermione, wiping her tears away.
"It's okay, Mione. I love you, too." Harry shocked himself. At least I think I do, he thought.
"No, Harry! You don't mean that!" sighed Hermione. "Really, you don't want to love me."
"No, Mione. Never mind. I shouldn't have said that. You could never love me like that."
"Oh, but Harry, I love you, too!" She got up from his lap and hugged him, which could only end in a kiss. Not just one, but tons of breathless, passionate kisses that made Hermione want to stay where she was forever, locked in Harry's arms. She thought of Malfoy. If he could see me right now, she thought, he'd want to kill everyone in sight. Then, Why am I thinking about Malfoy right now?
Oh, I don't deserve her, thought Harry. Really! What was I thinking? Then his stomach gave a loud growl of hunger, and Hermione started laughing and choking.
"What?" asked Harry.
"Guys are always hungry," she half choked and laughed. "I guess dinner does star in a few minutes. Let's go down." They held hands, walking down to the Great Hall laughing and talking.
* * * *
Ron was boiling with anger as he walked up to the castle. He'd put up with Harry always being in the spotlight and him always being shunted aside. This was one time too far. For heaven's sake, he loved Hermione. Since the first Hogwarts Express ride, the first time he met her, he thought she was definitely something different. And over the years, he'd come to love her. He knew she wasn't serious about Krum, knew she's get over him soon. But he also knew Harry wasn't just a passing craze. She loved him; he could see her eyes glimmer when she talked about him. And now he hated her for it. I'm not talking to her ever again, he thought. And if she feels guilty, to hell with her. Let her ask Harry to comfort her. And I'm not talking to Harry again, either.
He walked up to his bedroom and threw on jeans and a blue shirt. He then laid on his bed for a few minutes, trying not to think of what Harry and Hermione might now be doing. He sighed in frustration and walked down to dinner.
He heard talking and laughing on the first floor landing, so he paused before rounding the corner. He looked around the wall and saw Harry and Hermione- just this made his blood boil- holding hands and laughing.
"And then, he looked down," Hermione laughed, her eyes swimming with tears of mirth, "he looked down and his pants were gone!" Evidently, she was retelling the story of Neville being pantsed by Seamus. Harry burst out laughing; apparently he hadn't been told the story. Ron let them pass, trembling with rage. He followed the downstairs, where he sat at the other end of the table from them.
* * * *
Hermione settle down next to Harry, not bothering to notice that Ron wasn't by them. Quite unfortunately, Malfoy sat facing her from across the Great Hall. She quickly looked away, clutching Harry's hand more tightly, silently begging him to rid her of the sick new feelings she had towards Draco. He wasn't so bad when she looked at him for another few seconds. Then, she realized why he looked the hottest Hermione had ever seen him. He was wearing a green shirt that matched him perfectly. Well, of course, she thought. The Slytherin Prince. Then she scolded herself. She also realized that his hair wasn't glued to his head with a bottle of gel. Rather, it hung loosely down, framing his perfect eyes. Hermione made a mental note to smack herself later for thinking that.
Draco touched Pansy's arm. Hermione tensed up, as she would have if Draco had touched her own arm. She couldn't be jealous, could she? Of what? She thought. Harry's better, and I'm in love with him and he loves me back. What more could I want? She was jerked out of her reverie by Harry's voice.
"Mione! I asked you what you wanted to eat!" Harry had noticed Hermione's glances toward the Slytherin table, and he knew perfectly well who was over there. She doesn't love me, he thought. Why did she say that? If she's going to be staring at Malfoy the whole time... He realized he should have worn something more appealing that a T-shirt.
"Um..." said Hermione undecidedly, "just steak and mashed potatoes. And pumpkin juice." Harry reached over to her plate. "No, I'm fine. You don't have to serve me."
"Suit yourself," said Harry. He started piling food onto his own plate. Hermione forced herself not to look at the Slytherin table and started eating.
* * * *
Draco was so immersed in thought that he was surprised when he heard a breathy voice whisper in his ear, "Hey, sexy." To his horror, he turned and saw Pansy, obviously waiting to go down to dinner with him.
Draco swallowed and forced himself to say, "Hey, baby. Let's go." He took her hand (not without an inward grimace) and walked downstairs with her.
He sat down exactly opposite from Granger. Step one, he though. Eye contact.
While eating, he couldn't help but noticing that Hermione was looking his way. He was about to look up, too, when Saint Potter started talking to her.
He ate silently for a few minutes, then looked up. Just his luck, Granger was staring right at him. He winked, and he could see Granger's face redden even across the Hall. Then she gave him a death glare and turned away. Draco smirked to himself.
"What's so funny?" asked Pansy. Draco knew he should have said, "How you look," but resisted.
"Nothing," he said. He looked up again. Granger was still looking at him, despite the angry look she had given him before. Potter leaned across the table in front of her, blocking her from view. Draco leaned in front of Pansy to get another looks. Surprisingly, Hermione had leaned over to catch a glimpse of him, too. Draco resisted the urge to laugh.
* * * *
Hermione looked angrily over at Malfoy, who had just winked at her. Harry noticed and purposely leaned over to get more pumpkin juice. Hermione was scarlet when he looked at her again. Didn't she hate Malfoy? Why was she making eye contact with him, then?
"Hey, Hermione," Lavender said.
"Yeah?" replied Hermione, returning her face to her normal fair color and turning to Lavender.
"Listen, I'm organizing this seventh year truth or dare," she said excitedly. "All houses." She winked. Hermione's heart was racing.
"Sure, I'll come," she replied casually. "What time?"
"Friday night, 10 o'clock."
"Where?" asked Hermione.
"Room of Requirement. See you there." Hermione turned to face Harry.
"Did you hear, Harry? Truth or dare! All houses, Friday night."
"Yeah," said Harry. Personally, he didn't like the "all houses" thing. But maybe, then, he could get a dare to kiss Hermione. Everyone would know they were a hot item, and Malfoy would leave her alone. "Okay," said Harry. "I think we should go." Hermione smiled and continued eating.
Before dinner ended, she decided she needed to leave early to rest and sort out her feelings. Once in bed, Hermione wondered why all of a sudden a wink from Draco made her feel madly in love with him. Hadn't she slapped him a few hours before? What was wrong with her? And she felt jealous when he touched Pansy. That was an odd feeling, because she knew it was wrong to like a guy while in love with another. But wait! She thought. I don't like Draco, so I'm fine. Oh, there I go again with "Draco." But I love that name. Eew! Shut up! She pleaded with herself. I am the biggest two-timer that ever existed. She grinned wickedly into her pillow, thankful that Harry didn't know what she was thinking.
* * * *
Draco was glad when he finally got away from Pansy at seven. He laughed in his head all the way up the stone stairs to his room. He'd made Granger blush, and that was a start. He laid down on his bed, not bothering to change. She smiled at me, he thought. Then, Draco! Get a grip on yourself! She is just a passing shag-and-run. You can't like her! He thought some more for a few minutes, trying to work out his feelings for her. And now that she found out I was switching bodies before, I can't pretend to be Harry and go on a date with her in Hogsmeade Friday night. Immersed in thought, he fell asleep.
* * * *
Harry was trying to stay calm, but he was furious- at Hermione for looking at Malfoy, at Malfoy for being a girl-attracter, and at Ron for not being a friend when he needed his advice the most. Trying not to curse everything in sight on his way up to the dorm, he remembered that he didn't sleep in the same room as Ron anymore, which was a good thing. He walked in and sank onto a couch. Should he try and go talk to Hermione? No, he thought. She can survive. Then a few minutes later, after deep thought, he came to the conclusion that Hermione was alone and needed someone right now. Well, all right, I'll go talk to her, he thought. But I'll make her apologize to me.
Harry knocked on the door.
"Harry?" called Hermione.
"Yeah."
"Come in." Hermione pulled off the covers and sat up. Harry walked in and sat next to Hermione on the bed.
"Are you all right?" he asked, for no apparent reason. Why wouldn't she be?
"Yeah!" said Hermione, maybe a little to enthusiastically. "But you don't look so good yourself. What's wrong?"
Harry was forcing himself not to lose his temper and start yelling at Hermione, so he said with forced calm, "A certain bastard across the Great Hall...."
"What about him?" asked Hermione innocently. Had she been that obvious?
"I saw you looking at him," said Harry, determinedly not looking at Hermione.
"Well," said Hermione, fishing around for an excuse, "he is just across from me, so if I look up, I'm looking at him."
"Yeah," said Harry. "And that explains why you were blushing and left early."
Oh, come on! Thought Hermione. This is really hard! What am I going to say? She felt tears coming, because she couldn't stand to see Harry looking so sad when it was entirely her fault. Why did those green eyes always look like they were searching her soul? They made her feel so guilty. "Oh, Harry, I really am sorry," she apologized.
"You admit that you were staring at him, then?" Harry asked, feeling guilty himself because he was making Hermione cry. Was he being overprotective? No. He wouldn't have cared if it was anyone but Malfoy.
"Yes, I admit it, Harry!" cried Hermione. "I said sorry."
"Okay," said Harry. "But why?"
"Well," said Hermione. "He is devilishly handsome."
"You used the right word," said Harry, trying not to tell Hermione that he hated her. He loved her; he was just extremely mad and jealous right now. "He is the perfect example of a devil."
"I really am sorry, Harry," repeated Hermione. "Forgive me?" She touched his arm. Harry's anger immediately evaporated. A simple touch from Hermione and his heart was in his throat. How pathetic could he be? He resisted the urge to kiss Hermione senseless, but he couldn't resist the urge to kiss her a little. Or, what he thought was a little. Soon they were laying Hermione's bed kissing. "Oh, Harry," whispered Hermione. "You're good." She took a steadying, ragged breath and snuggled her head into Harry's neck. It smelled good, like home; his light cologne was the perfect scent.
Oh well, thought Harry. So much for being mad at her.
"Harry," said Hermione. "This is the second straight night that you have fallen asleep not in your own bed. The way you're going, are you ever going to sleep in you bed?" Harry laughed, and Hermione felt the vibrations of his throat against her cheek.
"Maybe I should just move into your room," suggested Harry. "I wouldn't mind."
"Neither would I," said Hermione. "But really, are you kidding?"
"Well, the idea is tempting...."
"So you can spy on me when I change, right?" joked Hermione.
"That idea isn't so bad, either," said Harry. Suddenly, he got serious. "Do you think we should talk to Ron?"
"If you want to, Harry," said Hermione. "But really, he'll talk to us soon."
"Maybe I'll talk to him when I see him. Hey, by the way, are we still going to Hogsmeade Friday?"
"Well, truth or dare starts at ten," said Hermione. "Classes end at 4:30. We can eat dinner here or at Hogsmeade."
"Hogsmeade," said Harry. She couldn't stare at Malfoy there.
"Okay," continued Hermione. "We have dinner and walk around there for a few hours. Then we come back, change, take a shower, do whatever, and go."
"Sounds good," said Harry. "What time is it?"
"7:45," said Hermione, glancing at her watch, for Harry's watch was on the wrist that was attached to the arm that was currently around Hermione.
"Well," said Harry sarcastically, "it's too late, so I guess I'll have to sleep here."
"Any time," said Hermione, ignoring the sarcasm. "You don't have to ask."
"Yeah," said Harry, yawning, "but I'm tired. I don't know why. But I want to go to sleep."
"Me too," said Hermione. "Let's just sleep early."
"Good night," muttered Harry, kissing Hermione's forehead.
"Night," whispered Hermione. And in exactly the same was as the night before, the young couple fell asleep.
* * * *
Ron stomped up the stairs still in a towering temper. So this was what it was like to have your heart broken. He would have been at least a little happier if Hermione did justice to Harry and remained loyal to the person she loved. But she was toying with Malfoy's and Harry's affections. What the hell was she doing with Malfoy anyway? He was probably trying to hurt her, and she was even close to tears when she was telling them the story about him. How could she now like him? He was only trouble, and Hermione knew it. Wait! He thought. I thought I didn't give a damn if Hermione got hurt. He tramped into his room, and thankfully, no one was there yet. I don't give a damn about Hermione or Harry, he reminded himself as he pulled off his shirt and pants and crawled into bed, falling asleep thirty seconds later.
"Harry! You missed three of your four classes. Snape's going to kill you! Don't be late for Dumbledore!"
"Mum!" He grabbed Hermione's hand.
"Wake up!" She shook him. His eyes flew open.
"Shit!" he yelled, looking at his watch. "Snape's going to give me detention! I'll be late for Dumbledore!"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" shrieked Hermione, grabbing his hand and pulling him up, ignoring his use of profanity. "Let's go!"
While they were running, Harry panted, "I'm sorry! This is all my fault. I made you drink wine! I don't regret mission Potions, though! Do you?"
"Well, we were learning a good Potion today!" she complained. "But I was with you, and I would rather be kissing you than admitting that Snape knows more about Potions than I do and accepting the fact that he has to teach me what he knows." Harry laughed.
"You do have a point!" he said. "But I'd rather be doing anything else than even looking at Snape." Hermione looked affronted. "Not as a diss to you, or anything," added Harry quickly. They skidded to a halt in front of the DADA classroom. Hermione looked at her watch again: 3:15. Class started in five minutes, so they weren't late, thankfully. Dumbledore only took the DADA job to teach Harry. If Harry didn't show up, Dumbledore would be mad.
"Harry, we really need to get to our seats. Dumbledore will be here any minute." She turned and walked to her seat. "And really, the Slytherins will be wondering why we weren't at Potions. Thank God Malfoy isn't in this class. You did do your homework, didn't you?" She was just about to wonder if Harry was even in DADA, then she decided he wasn't because he was in Malfoy's body on Monday. "Never mind," she said. "You weren't here Monday. Malfoy didn't do your homework for you!" When she didn't hear a reaction, she turned back to where Harry's seat was, but it was empty. Thinking he was playing a trick on her, she looked in the closet and the corridor. No Harry to be seen.
"Harry?" she called tentatively, but she knew it was useless. She was sure of what happened; Harry had been grabbed by Malfoy. Then she realized she didn't have her books. She knew it was pretty useless to be at class without Harry when he could be in danger. She decided to go out and look for him. She ran into Neville and Ron coming in.
"Where have you been?" asked Ron.
"Oh!" gasped Hermione. "Um... Hospital wing; bad stomachache."
"And Harry got it too?" Ron asked sarcastically.
"He wasn't at classes?" wondered Hermione innocently. "That's odd."
"Do you think Malfoy got him?" said Ron, oblivious to the fact that Neville was right there.
"What do you mean?" wondered Neville.
"Oh," said Hermione. "Nothing, Neville. Could you tell Dumbledore we're sorry we couldn't come? Bye!" She grabbed Ron's hand. "Let's go!" Ron froze momentarily at the touch of her hand. "Ron!"
"Oh!" said Ron, coming out of his trance. "Yeah. Come one!" They sprinted off to first look in the Slytherin common room, where Harry in Malfoy's body would most likely be.
"Um, pureblood!" Hermione gasped, remembering that she had been given all the passwords.
"Hermione, I don't think we should be going in there."
"Fine," said Hermione angrily. "Wait out here for me then." She climbed through the door.
She heard cries of "What the hell?" and "Gryffindor attack!"
Pansy screamed, "Mudblood invasion!" Apparently she was channeling Malfoy's anti-mudblood attitude. Hermione suddenly wondered if that rumor about her and Draco was true.
Draco? she thought to herself. You call him Draco? Sicko, Hermione! "Parkinson!" shrieked Hermione. "Have you seen Dr- I mean, Malfoy?"
"What do you want with him?" She glared at Hermione. "He's my man."
Hermione was tempted to say, "If I had a say in it, he wouldn't be." She really didn't know how such a sexy guy like Malfoy could like someone as ugly as Pansy. Hermione wasn't vain, but she knew even she was prettier than Pansy. "Come on, Parkinson!" she said.
"Why should I tell you?"
"Because I'll give you ten galleons!" cried Hermione desperately. Pansy looked gleeful.
"He went to his room. I'll go get him. He was acting really weird. Hand over the money, Granger."
"Not until you get him!"
"But if you make one move on him," started Pansy.
"Why would I?" asked Hermione, though she knew there were a few reasons. "He's a Slytherin and he's totally stupid."
"You're right," said Pansy. "He's too good for you. I'll be right back." She climbed the stairs. Hermione, while waiting, thought how cold the Slytheirn common room was. There was one small, sick-looking fire. There were a few armchairs. Overall, she thought Gryffindor common room was so much better. She didn't know how Malfoy could stand it here, as he was used to royalty at home. "Yeah. She says she needs to talk to you." Pansy's voice was floating down the stairs, and Hermione could hear their footsteps.
"What the hell does she want, Pansy?" Draco asked.
"I don't know, but come back soon, Dracie."
"Don't call me that. You know I hate it," grumbled Malfoy irritably.
"Okay, but come back soon. I want to go to dinner with you." Draco entered the common room.
"Oh, Christ!" he sighed. "Just looking at her! I'm going back upstairs."
"No!" said Hermione forcefully. "Malfoy, Dumbledore wants you."
"Wait!" called Pansy. "My money!"
"I'll bring it tomorrow!"
"If you don't, you're gonna get it!"
"Malfoy! Get over here this instant!" screamed Hermione.
"Yes, mother!" said Malfoy sarcastically, in a bored voice. "Wait! Don't open the door; you'll get it dirty. I will." He opened the door and held it open. "Ladies first." He smirked. Though she knew it was really Harry in there, Hermione couldn't help but think he was so sexy. Ron apparently had left, because he wasn't outside the door.
"Harry! What happened? Did Malfoy get you?" Hermione asked in a worried tone.
Shit! thought Draco. She thinks I switched back with Potter. In reality, Draco hadn't switched back. But catching on, he played Harry's part. "Yeah," he said. "But really, I'm fine. He'll switch us back soon. He hates being in my body, surrounded by Gryffindors and with you and, um, Ron." He had almost forgotten Weasley's first name.
"Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you're okay." And with that, she pulled him into a warm kiss. This is good, she thought. I get the great personality and the hot looks.
Draco, however, was shocked and thought, Hell, she kisses great! The main reason he was switching bodies with Potter all came down to his father. He remembered back to the previous summer.
* * * *
"Draco, now that you are seventeen and an adult, you need to think about your service to the Dark Lord," Lucius had said. Draco hated how he said his name: harsh and cruel, unlike his mother's soft voice. In truth, Draco didn't want to disobey his father, but he knew of much better things to do with his life than be a Death Eater. He like the whole Slytherin and pureblood thing, but man, was Voldemort taking it a little too far. He had no choice but to do what his father said, though.
"Yes, father," he replied respectfully.
"I was speaking to him last week, Draco, and do you know what he told me?"
"No, father."
"Well, some pretty big news I'm sure you'll find shocking. He says that the mudblood at your school, what's her name?"
"Granger?" supplied Draco.
"Yes. The Dark Lord says she really isn't a mudblood. She was born to witches and wizards, but her father had more important things to do in life, and her mother died giving birth." Draco was shocked. All of his disses and torture to Granger had been for nothing.
"What did he do with her?" inquired Draco.
"Put her up for adoption in a muggle orphanage, poor thing."
"Is her father still alive? Where is he?"
"She was adopted by muggles and doesn't know who her real dad is." Draco was dying to find out.
"Who is it, father?" he asked eagerly.
"None other than the Dark Lord himself," sighed Lucius.
* * * *
The words echoed in his head as he was kissing Hermione. None other than the Dark Lord himself. None other than the Dark Lord himself. Now Draco was on orders from his dad. He was to somehow get Hermione to like him so he could impregnate her to ensure Voldemort that he had another heir in the unlikely even that Hermione died. He hated Granger, but he liked his job, because boy, was Hermione hott with two t's.
Hermione noticed that Harry's kiss changed. It was no longer powerful, but gentle and compassionate. She also notice he didn't go for the tongue again. Draco thought he should take it slowly. All of a sudden, the Slytherin common room door opened and Pansy walked out.
"What's taking you so-!" she dropped her bag and screamed. "Draco Malfoy! What in the name of Merlin are you doing?"
"Oh, shit!" he yelled. "God! Sorry, Pansy. She um, um..." but what Hermione was doing, he didn't know. "Sorry, Pansy!"
"No, Malfoy!" That is the last straw!" she shrieked. "I took you back every time you cheated on me! Even when I found out you slept with Bulstrode for money! Enough!" She slammed the door back closed and hurried up the stairs.
"Hey, Harry," said Hermione. "It looks like Malfoy and her have got issues they need to clean up."
"Damn right. Sure as hell we do."
"What?"
Draco, recognizing his mistake, said, "They sure do."
"But we don't," said Hermione. She leaned over and kissed him again.
"Dude, um-'' he started, pulling away. What's her name? Shit! I forgot! he thought. "Oh yeah, Hermione. How 'bout we take this to your room?"
"Okay. Let's go." She took his hand and skipped happily out of the dungeons. Damn! she thought. His hands are softer than Harry's body's.
Oh, God! Granger is so sexy! he thought. But I still hate her.
"Malfoy sucks." Hermione said the password.
Hey! thought Draco. I don't like that password. They walked in and Hermione pulled him to the couch, pressing her lips to his. Again, Draco couldn't do anything about it because she was too damn good. So he returned the kiss with passion and gentleness. Hermione noticed the change in the kiss again. It seemed oddly familiar.
What is wrong with him? she thought. He French-kissed me last time. Why not now? She broke apart.
"Damn, Hermione. You are so good," he said aloud. He was even surprised at himself when he said this. He was so entranced by Granger that he accidentally added, "Better than Pansy, even."
Hermione shrieked. "What?"
"Just kidding," he added hastily. But Hermione wasn't stupid; she put two and two together. She suddenly remembered: the kiss was like the one that Draco have her on the first day of term that night when she didn't know it was him. She realized it was Draco Malfoy that she had just been kissing.
"You!" said Hermione. "Leave!"
"What?" asked Draco, playing dumb. "What did I do?"
"You're Malfoy!" Draco thought he couldn't pretend to be innocent any more; she was smarter than she looked.
"That's my name. Don't wear it out."
"Oh! You horrible, lying, little-!"
"Little what?" asked Draco sweetly, smirking. "I know lots of names that could fir. Little hot guy, little sexy dude, little irresistible."
"How could you?" Hermione asked, her eyes tearing. "That was absolutely unnecessary! You could have just said you weren't Harry, obviously, and left. But pretending you were? What are you playing at?"
"You!" he said, leaning closer.
"I don't believe you! After six years of enmity you're telling me you like me? I refuse to listen. Get out of my face!"
"Your sexy face?" asked Malfoy, smirking again. Hermione blinked away tears. She wasn't going to take it. She remembered the last time she was this angry at Malfoy. She thought back to third year, when she had slapped him across the face. "You know you want me, Granger," he said. Then he thought, She looks so damn sexy when she's mad. I bet Potter doesn't realize how lucky he is.
Hermione thought and carefully picked her next words. "Why would you like me all of a sudden?"
"Oh, it's not all of a sudden, Granger," said Draco. "It's been since the first day here. That's not true, thought Draco, but if he was going to do this, he might as well do it correctly.
"Like I believe you," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "You want something from me."
"Damn right I do. And it starts with a V."
"Oh, you sick-minded son of a Death Eater!" Hermione laughed in her head. Usually that was an insult, but in Malfoy's situation, it was true. She mustered up her strength and slapped him. He suddenly stopped smirking and became serious.
"Okay," he said. "I can see I should be leaving."
"Right now!" said Hermione, pointing to the door, her hand on her hip.
"Going," said Draco reluctantly.
"And don't ever talk to me again!"
* * * *
Draco walked back to the dormitory, not really knowing where his feet were taking him. I've never seen such a bitch, he thought. Worse than Pansy! Well, at least I don't have to date Pansy anymore. It was true. His father only made him date Pansy because he said that she was a "nice, respectful, pureblood girl." Draco hated Pansy, all right. She was ugly and thought she was hot with fifty t's. She thought Draco was going to propose to her. Draco cheated on her all the time because he was trying to find the best girl for him. Then Draco found out he had to go after Hermione, so if Pansy caught him kissing Hermione, which she did, he could care less because he could dump her now. He had Hermione to think about, and to tell the truth, he couldn't stop thinking of how great her kiss was: so warm and loving. Then anger ran through his veins, and he wanted to kick something, or a someone named Potter, at the moment. Obviously he and Hermione had kissed before. It wasn't fair. Why did Potter get all the good stuff?
"He doesn't," said a little voice in the back of his head. "He's good at Quidditch and DADA. He definitely doesn't have a family like you." It was true. Draco had a family. Not that that counted, though.
Sometimes he was jealous of Harry for having a dead dad. Lucius was on his nerves 24/7. "One more non-passing grade and you'll be grounded when you come home for the summer." "The Dark Lord says this and the Dark Lord says that." Draco was sick of the damn Dark Lord. He wanted to do what he wanted to do in life, not be ordered around by a lunatic that was uglier than Pansy. But he couldn't tell his father that. Thinking about Pansy made him think about Hermione again. He was dreaming pleasantly about how good she was and how he'd love to kiss her again.
"Get a grip, Draco," he said out loud to himself. "She's a Gryffindor."
Then the little voice said, "And? Before you thought she was a mudblood and hated her. Now you know she's not. What's wrong with liking her?"
Well, thought Draco. She's so different. Look, she hangs out with Potter. That's about as opposite as you can go from me.
"Ahem!" said the little voice. "Opposites attract!"
Oh, God, thought Draco. Shut up! Am I going mad? Talking to myself... He forced himself to think of how evil Hermione was, slapping him like that. That made the second time! Soon, he found himself angry at her. But he didn't like being angry at her, because even if he didn't want to admit it to himself, he wanted her. His temper rising, he found that his feet had carried him to the Slytherin common room.
"About time!" yelled Pansy. "It's 4:30! Where were you? With Granger? Tell your new girlfriend she owes me money!"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Parkinson. Calm down!" sighed Draco. "She's not my girlfriend.
"What do you mean?" Pansy asked suspiciously. Draco thought for thirty seconds. "Well?"
"I mean that you are!" said Draco. He thought by going out with Pansy, however stupid and ugly she was, he could take his mind off Hermione. He would still carry out his plans with Granger, of course.
"Oh, are you serious, Dracie?" said Pansy excitedly. "You want me back? You promise you won't cheat on me ever again?"
With difficulty, Draco tried to restrain himself from rolling his eyes at Pansy's use of his nickname again and repeated, "Yes, I promise. I love you, Pansy." Pansy gasped.
"Oh, me too! Me too, Draco."
Oh! Why did I say such a horrible thing! I don't love her, thought Draco. Who am I kidding? Am I trying to make Pansy happy? Why the hell did I say I loved her? I am not capable of loving. I am capable of being a Death Eater, not loving. I think I like my mom a lot. She sticks up for me against father, but I don't think I love her. I don't know what love is. Draco's thoughts were cut off when Pansy leaned over to kiss him. He pushed her away. He couldn't stand her kissing. She sucked like a leech. Plus, there were tons of people watching. "Damn, Pansy. Not here," he said.
"You're right," she agreed. "This calls for my room."
"I didn't mean that," said Draco, resisting the urge to fake vomit thinking of the sight of Pansy naked. Millicent was bad enough. He had needed her for the money. After he had gotten a D on his final exam for Transfiguration the year before, his father said that he wasn't going to give him pocket money for a year. Pansy was an entirely different story. He had convinced his mom to send him money, and he didn't need to sleep with Pansy. Especially after that rumor that someone started saying he had slept with her. He shuddered at the thought.
Pansy looked affronted. "Why?" she asked. "There's still an hour before dinner."
"Well, Pansy-''- God, I hate that name, thought Draco- "I have to, um, go take a shower." Oh, is that a bad excuse or what? thought Draco. Apparently Pansy thought so, too.
"Then I'll come with you," she said.
"No!" shouted Malfoy, almost too quickly. "I mean, really. I'm not in
the mood."
In truth, he did need a shower, just not with Pansy. Definitely not. "I'm going to the Prefect bathroom," he said. "I'll meet you at dinner."
"Bye, baby," said Pansy.
"Bye, sugar," he returned. Shit! he thought. Did I just say that? He walked through the door and to the Prefect's bathroom. "Pine fresh," he muttered. They had never bothered in changing the password. Not a whole lot of people came in anyway. Today, there was someone there already. And it was a someone that pissed him off a lot: Harry Potter.
* * * *
Hermione was fuming as Malfoy left. The nerve of him! She decided to take a nap, but then she realized she still had to find out where Ron and Harry went and to tell them what had happened.
After looking for twenty minutes, she found them practicing Quidditch. "Boys," she muttered. "Harry! Ron! Come down here!" The obediently flew down.
"What?" asked Harry, getting off his Firebolt 6, the newest edition, given to him by Fudge for his 17th birthday. Fudge still felt the need apologize for all the trouble he caused Harry two years ago. Harry thought no broomstick in the world could apologize for the rejection and pain he'd felt that year, but the broom was great.
"I'll tell you what," said Hermione, regaining her anger. "Where did you go before DADA?"
"I said I was going to get my books. Didn't you hear me? Why weren't you in class?"
"Oh, my God," said Hermione.
"What?" asked Harry.
"Well, Ron and I thought Malfoy took you and switched you back," said Hermione.
"Crap!" swore Harry.
"Yeah, I know," replied Hermione gloomily.
"Well?" pressed Harry. "What did you do?" Here Hermione bit her lip. It was too painful to go on. "Well?"
"You see," said Hermione, "Ron and I, thinking you were in Malfoy's body, went to the Slytherin common room looking for you." And so she related the whole story to him and Ron. Harry looked horrified.
"Triple crap," he said.
"I know, Harry. What are we going to do?"
"Me and Ron have to take turns watching you," said Harry. "He's going to try to hurt you."
"Fine," said Hermione. She liked the idea of two muscular and hot bodyguards.
"Well, I'm going to take a shower now," said Harry.
"I'll take one after dinner," said Ron. Harry trudged up to the castle alone. "Hermione," Ron said, as soon as Harry was out of earshot, "why did you try to kiss him anyway? Even if he really was Harry, why would you?" He was scared of the answer because he knew he wouldn't like it. Hermione felt she couldn't hide the truth from Ron any longer.
"Um, Ron, I'm sorry, but we're going out." The truth stung Ron, and it echoed in his ears.
"Okay," he said in a hoarse voice. He left for the castle.
"This is a such a good day," said Hermione to herself sarcastically.
* * * *
Harry was soon in the Head Dorm. Looking in the bathroom, he saw it was spacious, but nowhere near as luxurious as the Prefect bathroom, so he decided to go there instead, even thought he wasn't a Prefect. He picked up new clothes to change into, a towel, some soap, and shampoo and hurried off. He entered after saying the password. He remembered the last time he'd been here: fourth year, since he never had been a Prefect. He looked at the giant pool and couldn't wait to jump in. He was about to turn on the tap when the door creaked open.
* * * *
Draco couldn't believe his eyes. "Potter?"
"Malfoy?" Harry returned with mutual enmity.
"Wow!" started Draco. "I came to take a shower and what should I find but the person I was going to go looking for after. What a coincidence, especially as you're not even a Prefect."
"Head Boy, Malfoy," said Harry.
"Oooh, I'm scared," said Malfoy sarcastically. Harry rolled his eyes. "So tell me, Potter, what's going on with you and Granger?"
"It's none of your business."
"Oh, I'm sure it's not, seeing as I am part of this little love triangle."
"You don't love her," said Harry.
"Of course I don't; I need her for other reasons. But does that mean you do?" There was a tense silence. "I seem to have struck a nerve, Potter. Answer me."
"And if I do?"
"Well, never mind; I know you do anyway. Getting on to more urgent business, I don't think I need to switch bodies with you anymore. Besides me hating being you, I have other methods of carrying out my job now."
"Which is what?" demanded Harry.
"Oh, just some business between your girlfriend and me," said Draco lazily.
"Don't you dare hurt her again," threatened Harry.
"See? You do love her," said Draco triumphantly. "And what do you mean not hurt her again?"
"She told me what you did to her today," said Harry. "And I don't like it at all. Not one damn bit of it."
"Yes, Potter," drawled Malfoy. "But as I have complete control over you, I can switch bodies and mess up your whole relationship, if that's what you call it."
He smirked.
"Why are you doing this?" asked Harry.
"Oh, it's like I said, Potter. I have business."
"Tell me, Malfoy," said Harry, grabbing his wand. Draco saw and raised his eyebrows.
"Just private stuff. Not important. Has to do with my father."
"Your father?" bellowed Harry. He hated Lucius Malfoy even more since he broke out of Azkaban.
"Yes, my father," said Draco. "A very influential man"-
"Who is a bastard and that I hate," cut in Harry.
"Yes, Potter, but unfortunately your opinion doesn't count, because when my father tells me to do something, I get it done. Even if it does include Granger."
"Don't go near her, Malfoy," warned Harry. "If she tells me you've made one move on her..."
"What would I?" said Draco, though he knew of hundreds of reasons.
"Because she's hot, sexy, and everything that you're not," retorted Harry.
"Pervert, you were actually checking me out?"
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Leave," Harry said.
"Oh, definitely," said Draco. "I wouldn't want to watch you taking a shower."
He turned and left.
He was mad, because now he had to take a shower in Crabbe and Goyle's bathroom or share with Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle's, he thought to himself. "Definitely. He quickly avoided Pansy once in the common room. He went to get his shower stuff when he realized he'd used all of his hair gel. Shit! He thought. I'll have to get some more. He found Crabbe eating in his bedroom. "Crabbe, I'm using your shower."
"Huh?"
"You idiot; I said I'm using your shower."
"Oh," Crabbe said, though Draco was sure he didn't hear. "Wait! Did you tuck her in yet?"
"No, you concussed troll. I won't be for a while," said Malfoy irritably.
"Oh, well, tell me when you do."
"I will for sure."
Draco entered the shower a few minutes later, the hot water helping his splitting headache. He quickly washed and got out, wrapping his towel around his waist. He didn't bother cleaning up the bathroom; the house elves could. He pulled on slightly baggy cargo khakis and a forest green short-sleeved polo shirt. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he decided he looked pretty sexy. His muscular arms showed. He owed those to the six years of playing Quidditch. He liked the look of a few platinum strands falling over his eyes. He never had gone without gel before, but now he realized that he looked better without it.
Am I trying to make myself look hot for Pansy? He wondered. Well, no, Granger's going to be there. And Potter will be jealous of my looks. Well, except the eyes. Blueish gray is good, but who can compete with shocking green? Not too many people have green eyes like that. His mum must have been hot...
Ruffling his hair so that it dried a little quicker, Draco walked down the stairs. The girls were watching, and Draco knew they thought he was hot. Pansy was nowhere to be seen, thank God. She was probably trying to make herself pretty, something she'd never achieve. Just to make Granger jealous, he decided to wait for Pansy so that they could walk down together. He sat down near the fire, if that was what you called it, and sank into deep thought.
* * * *
Harry decided he was too late to turn on a tub, thanks to Malfoy, so he took a shower. He tried to push Malfoy out of his mind so he wouldn't look concerned about something to Hermione.
He quickly washed up and pulled on khakis and a black polo shirt. He looked in the mirror and thought he looked goth, what with the black hair, glasses, and shirt. He ran back to the Head Dorm, pulled of his shirt, and threw on a white Ireland Quidditch Team T-shirt. Feeling very apprehensive, he walked out of his room.
He heard the door creak open, and Hermione entered. She looked like she'd been crying. He tried not to roll his eyes. Women, he thought. The only way they express emotions is by crying. "What's wrong?" he asked, trying to sound nice.
"I h-hate th-this life," she sobbed. "Everyone hates me."
"I don't," said Harry.
"Yeah, well," she cried, "that's everyone except you."
"What happened to you now?" asked Harry, his sympathy limited because of his previous conversation with Malfoy.
"R-ron!" she cried.
"What did he do?"
"Well," she said, tears still running, "he found out we were going out, and he just walked away. He looked like he wanted to kill me."
"Come here," said Harry. He sat down on the sofa, and Hermione laid down next to him, her head in his lap. "Wanna talk?"
"There's nothing to talk about," said Hermione. "I want to die."
"No you don't, Hermione," Harry said. "I've been through WAY worse than you. I survived. Really, if it's about anything I've been through, we can talk. And if it's not, talking still makes you feel better."
"You know, I'm fine, Harry. Really, you knocked some sense into me. Thanks. Just because Ron doesn't like us going out doesn't mean we shouldn't. That's his problem, because I"- She broke off. Did I almost say "I love you?" she thought. I do, but I can't say that yet.
"What?" asked Harry.
"Never mind," said Hermione, wiping her tears away.
"It's okay, Mione. I love you, too." Harry shocked himself. At least I think I do, he thought.
"No, Harry! You don't mean that!" sighed Hermione. "Really, you don't want to love me."
"No, Mione. Never mind. I shouldn't have said that. You could never love me like that."
"Oh, but Harry, I love you, too!" She got up from his lap and hugged him, which could only end in a kiss. Not just one, but tons of breathless, passionate kisses that made Hermione want to stay where she was forever, locked in Harry's arms. She thought of Malfoy. If he could see me right now, she thought, he'd want to kill everyone in sight. Then, Why am I thinking about Malfoy right now?
Oh, I don't deserve her, thought Harry. Really! What was I thinking? Then his stomach gave a loud growl of hunger, and Hermione started laughing and choking.
"What?" asked Harry.
"Guys are always hungry," she half choked and laughed. "I guess dinner does star in a few minutes. Let's go down." They held hands, walking down to the Great Hall laughing and talking.
* * * *
Ron was boiling with anger as he walked up to the castle. He'd put up with Harry always being in the spotlight and him always being shunted aside. This was one time too far. For heaven's sake, he loved Hermione. Since the first Hogwarts Express ride, the first time he met her, he thought she was definitely something different. And over the years, he'd come to love her. He knew she wasn't serious about Krum, knew she's get over him soon. But he also knew Harry wasn't just a passing craze. She loved him; he could see her eyes glimmer when she talked about him. And now he hated her for it. I'm not talking to her ever again, he thought. And if she feels guilty, to hell with her. Let her ask Harry to comfort her. And I'm not talking to Harry again, either.
He walked up to his bedroom and threw on jeans and a blue shirt. He then laid on his bed for a few minutes, trying not to think of what Harry and Hermione might now be doing. He sighed in frustration and walked down to dinner.
He heard talking and laughing on the first floor landing, so he paused before rounding the corner. He looked around the wall and saw Harry and Hermione- just this made his blood boil- holding hands and laughing.
"And then, he looked down," Hermione laughed, her eyes swimming with tears of mirth, "he looked down and his pants were gone!" Evidently, she was retelling the story of Neville being pantsed by Seamus. Harry burst out laughing; apparently he hadn't been told the story. Ron let them pass, trembling with rage. He followed the downstairs, where he sat at the other end of the table from them.
* * * *
Hermione settle down next to Harry, not bothering to notice that Ron wasn't by them. Quite unfortunately, Malfoy sat facing her from across the Great Hall. She quickly looked away, clutching Harry's hand more tightly, silently begging him to rid her of the sick new feelings she had towards Draco. He wasn't so bad when she looked at him for another few seconds. Then, she realized why he looked the hottest Hermione had ever seen him. He was wearing a green shirt that matched him perfectly. Well, of course, she thought. The Slytherin Prince. Then she scolded herself. She also realized that his hair wasn't glued to his head with a bottle of gel. Rather, it hung loosely down, framing his perfect eyes. Hermione made a mental note to smack herself later for thinking that.
Draco touched Pansy's arm. Hermione tensed up, as she would have if Draco had touched her own arm. She couldn't be jealous, could she? Of what? She thought. Harry's better, and I'm in love with him and he loves me back. What more could I want? She was jerked out of her reverie by Harry's voice.
"Mione! I asked you what you wanted to eat!" Harry had noticed Hermione's glances toward the Slytherin table, and he knew perfectly well who was over there. She doesn't love me, he thought. Why did she say that? If she's going to be staring at Malfoy the whole time... He realized he should have worn something more appealing that a T-shirt.
"Um..." said Hermione undecidedly, "just steak and mashed potatoes. And pumpkin juice." Harry reached over to her plate. "No, I'm fine. You don't have to serve me."
"Suit yourself," said Harry. He started piling food onto his own plate. Hermione forced herself not to look at the Slytherin table and started eating.
* * * *
Draco was so immersed in thought that he was surprised when he heard a breathy voice whisper in his ear, "Hey, sexy." To his horror, he turned and saw Pansy, obviously waiting to go down to dinner with him.
Draco swallowed and forced himself to say, "Hey, baby. Let's go." He took her hand (not without an inward grimace) and walked downstairs with her.
He sat down exactly opposite from Granger. Step one, he though. Eye contact.
While eating, he couldn't help but noticing that Hermione was looking his way. He was about to look up, too, when Saint Potter started talking to her.
He ate silently for a few minutes, then looked up. Just his luck, Granger was staring right at him. He winked, and he could see Granger's face redden even across the Hall. Then she gave him a death glare and turned away. Draco smirked to himself.
"What's so funny?" asked Pansy. Draco knew he should have said, "How you look," but resisted.
"Nothing," he said. He looked up again. Granger was still looking at him, despite the angry look she had given him before. Potter leaned across the table in front of her, blocking her from view. Draco leaned in front of Pansy to get another looks. Surprisingly, Hermione had leaned over to catch a glimpse of him, too. Draco resisted the urge to laugh.
* * * *
Hermione looked angrily over at Malfoy, who had just winked at her. Harry noticed and purposely leaned over to get more pumpkin juice. Hermione was scarlet when he looked at her again. Didn't she hate Malfoy? Why was she making eye contact with him, then?
"Hey, Hermione," Lavender said.
"Yeah?" replied Hermione, returning her face to her normal fair color and turning to Lavender.
"Listen, I'm organizing this seventh year truth or dare," she said excitedly. "All houses." She winked. Hermione's heart was racing.
"Sure, I'll come," she replied casually. "What time?"
"Friday night, 10 o'clock."
"Where?" asked Hermione.
"Room of Requirement. See you there." Hermione turned to face Harry.
"Did you hear, Harry? Truth or dare! All houses, Friday night."
"Yeah," said Harry. Personally, he didn't like the "all houses" thing. But maybe, then, he could get a dare to kiss Hermione. Everyone would know they were a hot item, and Malfoy would leave her alone. "Okay," said Harry. "I think we should go." Hermione smiled and continued eating.
Before dinner ended, she decided she needed to leave early to rest and sort out her feelings. Once in bed, Hermione wondered why all of a sudden a wink from Draco made her feel madly in love with him. Hadn't she slapped him a few hours before? What was wrong with her? And she felt jealous when he touched Pansy. That was an odd feeling, because she knew it was wrong to like a guy while in love with another. But wait! She thought. I don't like Draco, so I'm fine. Oh, there I go again with "Draco." But I love that name. Eew! Shut up! She pleaded with herself. I am the biggest two-timer that ever existed. She grinned wickedly into her pillow, thankful that Harry didn't know what she was thinking.
* * * *
Draco was glad when he finally got away from Pansy at seven. He laughed in his head all the way up the stone stairs to his room. He'd made Granger blush, and that was a start. He laid down on his bed, not bothering to change. She smiled at me, he thought. Then, Draco! Get a grip on yourself! She is just a passing shag-and-run. You can't like her! He thought some more for a few minutes, trying to work out his feelings for her. And now that she found out I was switching bodies before, I can't pretend to be Harry and go on a date with her in Hogsmeade Friday night. Immersed in thought, he fell asleep.
* * * *
Harry was trying to stay calm, but he was furious- at Hermione for looking at Malfoy, at Malfoy for being a girl-attracter, and at Ron for not being a friend when he needed his advice the most. Trying not to curse everything in sight on his way up to the dorm, he remembered that he didn't sleep in the same room as Ron anymore, which was a good thing. He walked in and sank onto a couch. Should he try and go talk to Hermione? No, he thought. She can survive. Then a few minutes later, after deep thought, he came to the conclusion that Hermione was alone and needed someone right now. Well, all right, I'll go talk to her, he thought. But I'll make her apologize to me.
Harry knocked on the door.
"Harry?" called Hermione.
"Yeah."
"Come in." Hermione pulled off the covers and sat up. Harry walked in and sat next to Hermione on the bed.
"Are you all right?" he asked, for no apparent reason. Why wouldn't she be?
"Yeah!" said Hermione, maybe a little to enthusiastically. "But you don't look so good yourself. What's wrong?"
Harry was forcing himself not to lose his temper and start yelling at Hermione, so he said with forced calm, "A certain bastard across the Great Hall...."
"What about him?" asked Hermione innocently. Had she been that obvious?
"I saw you looking at him," said Harry, determinedly not looking at Hermione.
"Well," said Hermione, fishing around for an excuse, "he is just across from me, so if I look up, I'm looking at him."
"Yeah," said Harry. "And that explains why you were blushing and left early."
Oh, come on! Thought Hermione. This is really hard! What am I going to say? She felt tears coming, because she couldn't stand to see Harry looking so sad when it was entirely her fault. Why did those green eyes always look like they were searching her soul? They made her feel so guilty. "Oh, Harry, I really am sorry," she apologized.
"You admit that you were staring at him, then?" Harry asked, feeling guilty himself because he was making Hermione cry. Was he being overprotective? No. He wouldn't have cared if it was anyone but Malfoy.
"Yes, I admit it, Harry!" cried Hermione. "I said sorry."
"Okay," said Harry. "But why?"
"Well," said Hermione. "He is devilishly handsome."
"You used the right word," said Harry, trying not to tell Hermione that he hated her. He loved her; he was just extremely mad and jealous right now. "He is the perfect example of a devil."
"I really am sorry, Harry," repeated Hermione. "Forgive me?" She touched his arm. Harry's anger immediately evaporated. A simple touch from Hermione and his heart was in his throat. How pathetic could he be? He resisted the urge to kiss Hermione senseless, but he couldn't resist the urge to kiss her a little. Or, what he thought was a little. Soon they were laying Hermione's bed kissing. "Oh, Harry," whispered Hermione. "You're good." She took a steadying, ragged breath and snuggled her head into Harry's neck. It smelled good, like home; his light cologne was the perfect scent.
Oh well, thought Harry. So much for being mad at her.
"Harry," said Hermione. "This is the second straight night that you have fallen asleep not in your own bed. The way you're going, are you ever going to sleep in you bed?" Harry laughed, and Hermione felt the vibrations of his throat against her cheek.
"Maybe I should just move into your room," suggested Harry. "I wouldn't mind."
"Neither would I," said Hermione. "But really, are you kidding?"
"Well, the idea is tempting...."
"So you can spy on me when I change, right?" joked Hermione.
"That idea isn't so bad, either," said Harry. Suddenly, he got serious. "Do you think we should talk to Ron?"
"If you want to, Harry," said Hermione. "But really, he'll talk to us soon."
"Maybe I'll talk to him when I see him. Hey, by the way, are we still going to Hogsmeade Friday?"
"Well, truth or dare starts at ten," said Hermione. "Classes end at 4:30. We can eat dinner here or at Hogsmeade."
"Hogsmeade," said Harry. She couldn't stare at Malfoy there.
"Okay," continued Hermione. "We have dinner and walk around there for a few hours. Then we come back, change, take a shower, do whatever, and go."
"Sounds good," said Harry. "What time is it?"
"7:45," said Hermione, glancing at her watch, for Harry's watch was on the wrist that was attached to the arm that was currently around Hermione.
"Well," said Harry sarcastically, "it's too late, so I guess I'll have to sleep here."
"Any time," said Hermione, ignoring the sarcasm. "You don't have to ask."
"Yeah," said Harry, yawning, "but I'm tired. I don't know why. But I want to go to sleep."
"Me too," said Hermione. "Let's just sleep early."
"Good night," muttered Harry, kissing Hermione's forehead.
"Night," whispered Hermione. And in exactly the same was as the night before, the young couple fell asleep.
* * * *
Ron stomped up the stairs still in a towering temper. So this was what it was like to have your heart broken. He would have been at least a little happier if Hermione did justice to Harry and remained loyal to the person she loved. But she was toying with Malfoy's and Harry's affections. What the hell was she doing with Malfoy anyway? He was probably trying to hurt her, and she was even close to tears when she was telling them the story about him. How could she now like him? He was only trouble, and Hermione knew it. Wait! He thought. I thought I didn't give a damn if Hermione got hurt. He tramped into his room, and thankfully, no one was there yet. I don't give a damn about Hermione or Harry, he reminded himself as he pulled off his shirt and pants and crawled into bed, falling asleep thirty seconds later.