The Enemy Chap. 3
A/N: I totally love to bits all my reviewers-I'm sorry I'm in bit of a hurry otherwise I'd individually list you all-it's not like I have that many *sobs* Anyway, just wanted to let you guys know I was kidding about the last bit. I'm not going to make Hermione just die right now! Hmmm, maybe later. That's for me to know and you to find out. So anyway, onwards to the fic. I believe I forgot to put a disclaimer, so: Disclaimer: I don't own HP.
Chapter 3:
I leaned in to kiss him, my heart pounding with surprise and fear. This was Draco Malfoy, my archenemy for six years, and here I was, kissing him? I tried to push these thoughts out of my mind and concentrate on the last four months I'd known him. Once you really got to know him, I realized, he wasn't so bad after all. Thanks to Prof. Snape, I'd spent almost all my free time working on a potion with him, and well, we'd gotten to be friends. And then, today, out of the blue while we were celebrating our finish of the potion, he leaned in and kissed me. It was so simple; the way he'd done it. So natural. I almost didn't believe it when I felt his lips on mine; I thought I was hallucinating. But before I knew it, I'd pulled him back towards me, and we were once again locked together by our mouths (thank god we didn't have braces.it was one of the horror stories I'd heard; my parents are dentists).
"Gra---Hermione, what was that for?" he asked. I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant and hide the funky feeling that my stomach was giving me. Butterflies, I realized. Oh god. I was really attracted to Draco.
"Same reason as you," I finally said, upon noticing he was waiting for an answer.
He grinned, and then all of a sudden stopped, almost as if he had remembered something. "What's wrong?" I asked. It was his turn to shrug.
"Nothing," he said. He stared at me for a bit, but before I could react or say anything, he abruptly muttered, "I have to go," and fled the classroom. I stared at his retreating back. What was up with him?
Puzzled, I walked slowly to my common room, a half-smile forming on my face as I recollected all that had happened. I felt, for lack of a better word, weird. I didn't know how to describe it---even to myself. A part of me wanted more than just a kiss from Draco. I wanted a relationship, complete with emotional attachment and eventually the dreaded L word. Love. But another part of me would not yield to this fantasy. The realistic bit of my mind kept reminding me of the harsh truth. He was Draco Malfoy and I was Hermione Granger. It was not going to work.
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I bolted from the room, not knowing what to do. I had just kissed her and she'd responded, and now I was screwed. She would trust me if I kept this up. I prayed that she'd heard of my rep as Hogwarts' resident player. And it was what I did, most of the time. I'd flirt with girls, kiss them, bed them, dump them. My simple four step strategy, sometimes a step in between. But it was different with her; I knew it would be. For one, I couldn't dump her. She had to trust me until I did away with her. Another thing was present, and this was something I was a little less willing to acknowledge. I had felt a pang when we'd snogged, for sure. It wasn't the same "Yes, I'm going to get laid soon," sort of pang that I felt whenever I'd kiss some random girl, but more of a....I'm liking this, I might not even *want* to go further right now. This was definitely a feeling I was not used to. I didn't understand, and wasn't willing to admit that I might have feelings for a Mudblood.
That was another issue that clouded my mind. The fact that she was a mudblood. Honestly, I had never really cared that she was one. Blood is blood and you can't do anything about it, but I had many insults I could throw easily at Potter and Weasley, and finding one for her was a lot more difficult. And that was when I remembered the hundreds of times my father had lamented---"Mudbloods are filling up important space in your school". It was brilliant. I'd found the perfect insult. It worked, too. Every time I called her that, her blood pressure rose and she looked like she was going to explode. Sadly, it took me six years to realize how much this hurt her. But even now, when I'd established to myself that her blood didn't matter, my father's values were still so deeply rooted within me that the stigma that was associated with being a mudblood was hard to pull out. True, my mind no longer flashed Mudblood every time I saw her pretty face, but she really still was one, and I knew that there was no way that I was ever supposed to like a mudblood. It was against all the rules of a pureblooded family. It was flabbergasting.
I entered my common room, hoping to escape to my dorm so I could be alone with my thoughts, but no such luck. Pansy Parkinson approached me, a hard, calculating look in her eyes. "Where've you been?" she asked.
"Finishing up that extra potion Snape gave me," I answered coldly. Pansy annoyed me so much. She was the stupidest choice I'd made in a girlfriend; it was something I regretted to the hilt.
"With the mudblood, I presume?" she continued.
"Obviously," I snapped back at her. "I've only been working with her for four months on it. I didn't realize you were so dense that it would take you *this* long to figure that out."
She laughed, trying to blow off the fact that I'd just insulted her. Instead of looking for a decent comeback, the way Gra---Hermione would have (how had that suddenly come up?) she totally ignored it and continued. "I happen to know that you kissed her today," she said coldly. I stared at Pansy, my heart beat suddenly speeding up. How in the *hell* could she know? I knew Pansy had her sources, but who had been spying? This was one piece of news I did not want publicly displayed.
Angrily I told her, "I was *not*---for once, Pansy, your sources must be mistaken. You have got to be kidding. Can you imagine me kissing a mudblood?"
"No, I cannot. Which is precisely why I would ask you, Draco," she said, stressing my name as if my reply was the only thing that mattered to her. I realized that it probably was. Her life was so completely devoid of anything that really mattered that this was probably her highlight of the day. She didn't have a death eater father to deal with; she didn't have someone yelling "mudblood" at her every five minutes; she wasn't an orphan; she was rich, fairly pretty, and shallow as hell. "Any how," she said after a few minutes when I didn't respond, "I wanted to make sure it wasn't true. You have been getting close to her."
"She's a nice person, Parkinson. Someone I can talk to without having to repeat myself or defend my actions," I said, glaring at her so she got the point. "She is my *friend* you know, something you have never been and never will be. Now kindly leave me alone. I have a shitload of homework." I pushed past her as she looked at me, her mouth forming a perfectly shaped "o", and stomped up the stairs to do my homework. In the background I heard her say something that chilled me---"Slytherins don't have friends."
It was completely true. We don't, because we don't trust anyone enough to be friends. I suppose we've got good reason not to. Look where trust can lead you, for example. Here was Hermione, on the verge of trusting me, and I was about to destroy her life. Being reminded of this sent a sick wave of nausea directly at my stomach. I did not want to kill Hermione at all. She was a sweet person, and coming from my mouth, that was really saying something. She had every right to live her life to the fullest. And I had no right to take it away from her.
Weeks flew by and I didn't speak with her at all. I suppose she kept away from me because she was embarrassed. Under normal circumstances, if I had kissed her, that is, I would have felt the same way. But I had a completely different reason to stay away. I tried not to sit near her in any classes we had together. I cut off complete communication, which meant that I didn't insult her, either. In a way, this was a good thing. Doing so would have only made my task more difficult. Just when seventh year began to coast by again, simple and easy, I received yet another letter.
Draco---
I trust you have everything under complete control, and that you have made the mudblood trust you. I have enclosed a port key in here. On November 21st, you must hand her the port key and both of you will come to the Lord's abode, where you will proceed with your task. I am sure that this will prove your might; as a result, you will get the dark mark as soon as you complete your mission.
---Lucius Malfoy
I shuddered at the thought of the dark mark searing into my flesh. For the first time, I really began to realize my own dreams. Never had I wanted to be a death eater; I was just pulled along the path by my father and his Lord. I was horrified when I saw the port key. It was a beautiful silver necklace with a glimmering pink gem as the pendant. I closed my eyes, knowing that I was going to have to give this to her, a token of trust, friendship, blooming romance---a token to her death. Suddenly I decided to scan the calendar to mark the date, and I was completely taken by surprise. November 21st was three weeks away! I had to start communicating with her again.
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Love is a very futile feeling. I never really believed in love completely, but I always wanted it to happen to me. Ever since that meeting in the potions room, Draco and I hadn't talked at all. For the most part, I was glad---I was incredibly embarrassed about it, and I didn't want him to think I was desperate or anything. I was disgusted at my feelings. I had always scorned the girl who in essence, picked flowers, chanting, he loves me, he loves me not. And here I was, becoming one of them. Why should I care what Draco thought about me? It was *obvious* wasn't it, now that he hadn't spoken to me after weeks and weeks? He obviously had done it for the spur of the moment; I was nothing to him, just another girl he could proudly display as a trophy. But I knew that it was not true. He would never display me as a trophy. I was something he'd want to hide. That's why he wasn't talking to me.
And then suddenly, out of the blue, he came up to me after lunch when I was making my way towards the library. "Hey," he muttered, barely looking at me.
"Hey," I said, thrilled as I turned towards him. He was talking to me, yes, yes, yes!
"Don't look my way!" His words were sharp, cutting any elation I felt when he'd begun the conversation.
"Why?" I snapped back, turning my head fully.
"That's it, Hermione," he whispered. "When you do look at me, insult me, act rudely, act normal. If *anyone* found out I spoke to you civilly then I am dead. Literally."
"Why?" I said, following his orders and looking straight ahead.
"Because you are...and I promise, I don't care, but others do....a mudblood. And I, *the* Draco Malfoy, cannot be seen talking to a mudblood."
"Well, you know, we've done a lot more than talk," I said slyly, as I turned into the library, which was practically empty. I sighed. It was one of the reasons I loved the place, of course. The peace and solitude were perfect after hard classes, and it was fun sometimes just to curl up with a good book. But it was the same reason I hated the place. Anyone who came here was a *dork* a *geek* a *nerd*. I was all three.
"Shut up, Gra---Hermione. What, you're going into the library?" he said, surprised as he followed me in.
"Well obviously. This is my hangout, after all. I think the entire school knows that?"
"Of course. Well...it's empty! There's nobody here except you and that first-year over there in the distant corner. Hey, I need to talk to you. Sit down in this corner." He led me to the furthest corner in the library, somewhere I'd never been. It was almost totally hidden by rows and rows of books; a completely secluded spot.
"I've never been here," I said, astonished. "I thought I'd explored every nook and cranny of the library."
He laughed. "Obviously *you* wouldn't have been here, Hermione. This little spot is gaining quite a rep, thanks to me. Welcome to the Snog Section of the library."
I was taken aback. *Snog Section* ? Was he crazy? "People don't come to the library to snog," I said stiffly.
"I do, and so do all my little girlfriends," he said, with a real grin plastered across his face. I stared. He looked great when he really smiled---something that was infinitely rare.
"I can't believe that! You're exploiting the whole idea of a library!" I cried shrilly.
"You're so naïve! I've been doing it since what, early sixth year? We always used to be worried you'd catch us because you were *always* here. I guess you're just too dense..." he said teasingly.
I smiled at him. "I guess I am," I said good-naturedly. I'd lost the argument, but I wasn't going to make a hissy fit about it or anything. "So what'd you want to talk about?" I asked as I suddenly remembered why we were here in the first place. Certainly not to *snog*.
"I've been avoiding you for a while," he acknowledged. "I'm sorry. I guess I was embarrassed." He said it so clearly and coolly that I found it hard to buy that he was embarrassed. And come on. Draco Malfoy, *embarrassed*? That was a laugh.
"Really?" I answered skeptically.
He smiled a warm, almost sheepish grin, and my heart flip-flopped in my chest. I felt myself turning red. My heart did not flip-flop. I mean, I believe in love, don't get me wrong---I'm not part of the Love-is-for- losers clan, but I didn't think that I could ever fall in love right now. I thought love was maybe ten, fifteen years ago. I scowled inwardly. I was *not* in love. It was just like. Like like, as we used to say back in third year. "Yeah, it's kind of hard to believe," he continued. "But I really was. You---you're different, Hermione. I don't know what it is. I haven't felt this way before..."
My heart was melting. I was melting. Next thing I knew, I'd be like the wicked witch of the west. "Stop it," I said giggling, another thing I promised myself I'd never do. I didn't *giggle*. I wasn't a preppy, oh-my- god he-is-so-damn-cute kind of girl. And here I was, giggling in the presence of Draco Malfoy. I was such a freak!
He smiled at me, and snaked his arm across to intertwine his fingers with mine. I felt the hair rising on the back of my neck as our fingers touched. Somewhere in the back of my head, I heard my conscience telling me, "Granger, don't get yourself into this...." It's too late, I called back to myself. I'm hopelessly falling for---ugh, Draco Malfoy.
A/N: Can someone please, please tell me how to bold and italicize words for fanfiction? I do it on Microsoft Word and it won't show up!! Oh and review, or I will abandon this fic! Please, please, please review! ( (
A/N: I totally love to bits all my reviewers-I'm sorry I'm in bit of a hurry otherwise I'd individually list you all-it's not like I have that many *sobs* Anyway, just wanted to let you guys know I was kidding about the last bit. I'm not going to make Hermione just die right now! Hmmm, maybe later. That's for me to know and you to find out. So anyway, onwards to the fic. I believe I forgot to put a disclaimer, so: Disclaimer: I don't own HP.
Chapter 3:
I leaned in to kiss him, my heart pounding with surprise and fear. This was Draco Malfoy, my archenemy for six years, and here I was, kissing him? I tried to push these thoughts out of my mind and concentrate on the last four months I'd known him. Once you really got to know him, I realized, he wasn't so bad after all. Thanks to Prof. Snape, I'd spent almost all my free time working on a potion with him, and well, we'd gotten to be friends. And then, today, out of the blue while we were celebrating our finish of the potion, he leaned in and kissed me. It was so simple; the way he'd done it. So natural. I almost didn't believe it when I felt his lips on mine; I thought I was hallucinating. But before I knew it, I'd pulled him back towards me, and we were once again locked together by our mouths (thank god we didn't have braces.it was one of the horror stories I'd heard; my parents are dentists).
"Gra---Hermione, what was that for?" he asked. I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant and hide the funky feeling that my stomach was giving me. Butterflies, I realized. Oh god. I was really attracted to Draco.
"Same reason as you," I finally said, upon noticing he was waiting for an answer.
He grinned, and then all of a sudden stopped, almost as if he had remembered something. "What's wrong?" I asked. It was his turn to shrug.
"Nothing," he said. He stared at me for a bit, but before I could react or say anything, he abruptly muttered, "I have to go," and fled the classroom. I stared at his retreating back. What was up with him?
Puzzled, I walked slowly to my common room, a half-smile forming on my face as I recollected all that had happened. I felt, for lack of a better word, weird. I didn't know how to describe it---even to myself. A part of me wanted more than just a kiss from Draco. I wanted a relationship, complete with emotional attachment and eventually the dreaded L word. Love. But another part of me would not yield to this fantasy. The realistic bit of my mind kept reminding me of the harsh truth. He was Draco Malfoy and I was Hermione Granger. It was not going to work.
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I bolted from the room, not knowing what to do. I had just kissed her and she'd responded, and now I was screwed. She would trust me if I kept this up. I prayed that she'd heard of my rep as Hogwarts' resident player. And it was what I did, most of the time. I'd flirt with girls, kiss them, bed them, dump them. My simple four step strategy, sometimes a step in between. But it was different with her; I knew it would be. For one, I couldn't dump her. She had to trust me until I did away with her. Another thing was present, and this was something I was a little less willing to acknowledge. I had felt a pang when we'd snogged, for sure. It wasn't the same "Yes, I'm going to get laid soon," sort of pang that I felt whenever I'd kiss some random girl, but more of a....I'm liking this, I might not even *want* to go further right now. This was definitely a feeling I was not used to. I didn't understand, and wasn't willing to admit that I might have feelings for a Mudblood.
That was another issue that clouded my mind. The fact that she was a mudblood. Honestly, I had never really cared that she was one. Blood is blood and you can't do anything about it, but I had many insults I could throw easily at Potter and Weasley, and finding one for her was a lot more difficult. And that was when I remembered the hundreds of times my father had lamented---"Mudbloods are filling up important space in your school". It was brilliant. I'd found the perfect insult. It worked, too. Every time I called her that, her blood pressure rose and she looked like she was going to explode. Sadly, it took me six years to realize how much this hurt her. But even now, when I'd established to myself that her blood didn't matter, my father's values were still so deeply rooted within me that the stigma that was associated with being a mudblood was hard to pull out. True, my mind no longer flashed Mudblood every time I saw her pretty face, but she really still was one, and I knew that there was no way that I was ever supposed to like a mudblood. It was against all the rules of a pureblooded family. It was flabbergasting.
I entered my common room, hoping to escape to my dorm so I could be alone with my thoughts, but no such luck. Pansy Parkinson approached me, a hard, calculating look in her eyes. "Where've you been?" she asked.
"Finishing up that extra potion Snape gave me," I answered coldly. Pansy annoyed me so much. She was the stupidest choice I'd made in a girlfriend; it was something I regretted to the hilt.
"With the mudblood, I presume?" she continued.
"Obviously," I snapped back at her. "I've only been working with her for four months on it. I didn't realize you were so dense that it would take you *this* long to figure that out."
She laughed, trying to blow off the fact that I'd just insulted her. Instead of looking for a decent comeback, the way Gra---Hermione would have (how had that suddenly come up?) she totally ignored it and continued. "I happen to know that you kissed her today," she said coldly. I stared at Pansy, my heart beat suddenly speeding up. How in the *hell* could she know? I knew Pansy had her sources, but who had been spying? This was one piece of news I did not want publicly displayed.
Angrily I told her, "I was *not*---for once, Pansy, your sources must be mistaken. You have got to be kidding. Can you imagine me kissing a mudblood?"
"No, I cannot. Which is precisely why I would ask you, Draco," she said, stressing my name as if my reply was the only thing that mattered to her. I realized that it probably was. Her life was so completely devoid of anything that really mattered that this was probably her highlight of the day. She didn't have a death eater father to deal with; she didn't have someone yelling "mudblood" at her every five minutes; she wasn't an orphan; she was rich, fairly pretty, and shallow as hell. "Any how," she said after a few minutes when I didn't respond, "I wanted to make sure it wasn't true. You have been getting close to her."
"She's a nice person, Parkinson. Someone I can talk to without having to repeat myself or defend my actions," I said, glaring at her so she got the point. "She is my *friend* you know, something you have never been and never will be. Now kindly leave me alone. I have a shitload of homework." I pushed past her as she looked at me, her mouth forming a perfectly shaped "o", and stomped up the stairs to do my homework. In the background I heard her say something that chilled me---"Slytherins don't have friends."
It was completely true. We don't, because we don't trust anyone enough to be friends. I suppose we've got good reason not to. Look where trust can lead you, for example. Here was Hermione, on the verge of trusting me, and I was about to destroy her life. Being reminded of this sent a sick wave of nausea directly at my stomach. I did not want to kill Hermione at all. She was a sweet person, and coming from my mouth, that was really saying something. She had every right to live her life to the fullest. And I had no right to take it away from her.
Weeks flew by and I didn't speak with her at all. I suppose she kept away from me because she was embarrassed. Under normal circumstances, if I had kissed her, that is, I would have felt the same way. But I had a completely different reason to stay away. I tried not to sit near her in any classes we had together. I cut off complete communication, which meant that I didn't insult her, either. In a way, this was a good thing. Doing so would have only made my task more difficult. Just when seventh year began to coast by again, simple and easy, I received yet another letter.
Draco---
I trust you have everything under complete control, and that you have made the mudblood trust you. I have enclosed a port key in here. On November 21st, you must hand her the port key and both of you will come to the Lord's abode, where you will proceed with your task. I am sure that this will prove your might; as a result, you will get the dark mark as soon as you complete your mission.
---Lucius Malfoy
I shuddered at the thought of the dark mark searing into my flesh. For the first time, I really began to realize my own dreams. Never had I wanted to be a death eater; I was just pulled along the path by my father and his Lord. I was horrified when I saw the port key. It was a beautiful silver necklace with a glimmering pink gem as the pendant. I closed my eyes, knowing that I was going to have to give this to her, a token of trust, friendship, blooming romance---a token to her death. Suddenly I decided to scan the calendar to mark the date, and I was completely taken by surprise. November 21st was three weeks away! I had to start communicating with her again.
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Love is a very futile feeling. I never really believed in love completely, but I always wanted it to happen to me. Ever since that meeting in the potions room, Draco and I hadn't talked at all. For the most part, I was glad---I was incredibly embarrassed about it, and I didn't want him to think I was desperate or anything. I was disgusted at my feelings. I had always scorned the girl who in essence, picked flowers, chanting, he loves me, he loves me not. And here I was, becoming one of them. Why should I care what Draco thought about me? It was *obvious* wasn't it, now that he hadn't spoken to me after weeks and weeks? He obviously had done it for the spur of the moment; I was nothing to him, just another girl he could proudly display as a trophy. But I knew that it was not true. He would never display me as a trophy. I was something he'd want to hide. That's why he wasn't talking to me.
And then suddenly, out of the blue, he came up to me after lunch when I was making my way towards the library. "Hey," he muttered, barely looking at me.
"Hey," I said, thrilled as I turned towards him. He was talking to me, yes, yes, yes!
"Don't look my way!" His words were sharp, cutting any elation I felt when he'd begun the conversation.
"Why?" I snapped back, turning my head fully.
"That's it, Hermione," he whispered. "When you do look at me, insult me, act rudely, act normal. If *anyone* found out I spoke to you civilly then I am dead. Literally."
"Why?" I said, following his orders and looking straight ahead.
"Because you are...and I promise, I don't care, but others do....a mudblood. And I, *the* Draco Malfoy, cannot be seen talking to a mudblood."
"Well, you know, we've done a lot more than talk," I said slyly, as I turned into the library, which was practically empty. I sighed. It was one of the reasons I loved the place, of course. The peace and solitude were perfect after hard classes, and it was fun sometimes just to curl up with a good book. But it was the same reason I hated the place. Anyone who came here was a *dork* a *geek* a *nerd*. I was all three.
"Shut up, Gra---Hermione. What, you're going into the library?" he said, surprised as he followed me in.
"Well obviously. This is my hangout, after all. I think the entire school knows that?"
"Of course. Well...it's empty! There's nobody here except you and that first-year over there in the distant corner. Hey, I need to talk to you. Sit down in this corner." He led me to the furthest corner in the library, somewhere I'd never been. It was almost totally hidden by rows and rows of books; a completely secluded spot.
"I've never been here," I said, astonished. "I thought I'd explored every nook and cranny of the library."
He laughed. "Obviously *you* wouldn't have been here, Hermione. This little spot is gaining quite a rep, thanks to me. Welcome to the Snog Section of the library."
I was taken aback. *Snog Section* ? Was he crazy? "People don't come to the library to snog," I said stiffly.
"I do, and so do all my little girlfriends," he said, with a real grin plastered across his face. I stared. He looked great when he really smiled---something that was infinitely rare.
"I can't believe that! You're exploiting the whole idea of a library!" I cried shrilly.
"You're so naïve! I've been doing it since what, early sixth year? We always used to be worried you'd catch us because you were *always* here. I guess you're just too dense..." he said teasingly.
I smiled at him. "I guess I am," I said good-naturedly. I'd lost the argument, but I wasn't going to make a hissy fit about it or anything. "So what'd you want to talk about?" I asked as I suddenly remembered why we were here in the first place. Certainly not to *snog*.
"I've been avoiding you for a while," he acknowledged. "I'm sorry. I guess I was embarrassed." He said it so clearly and coolly that I found it hard to buy that he was embarrassed. And come on. Draco Malfoy, *embarrassed*? That was a laugh.
"Really?" I answered skeptically.
He smiled a warm, almost sheepish grin, and my heart flip-flopped in my chest. I felt myself turning red. My heart did not flip-flop. I mean, I believe in love, don't get me wrong---I'm not part of the Love-is-for- losers clan, but I didn't think that I could ever fall in love right now. I thought love was maybe ten, fifteen years ago. I scowled inwardly. I was *not* in love. It was just like. Like like, as we used to say back in third year. "Yeah, it's kind of hard to believe," he continued. "But I really was. You---you're different, Hermione. I don't know what it is. I haven't felt this way before..."
My heart was melting. I was melting. Next thing I knew, I'd be like the wicked witch of the west. "Stop it," I said giggling, another thing I promised myself I'd never do. I didn't *giggle*. I wasn't a preppy, oh-my- god he-is-so-damn-cute kind of girl. And here I was, giggling in the presence of Draco Malfoy. I was such a freak!
He smiled at me, and snaked his arm across to intertwine his fingers with mine. I felt the hair rising on the back of my neck as our fingers touched. Somewhere in the back of my head, I heard my conscience telling me, "Granger, don't get yourself into this...." It's too late, I called back to myself. I'm hopelessly falling for---ugh, Draco Malfoy.
A/N: Can someone please, please tell me how to bold and italicize words for fanfiction? I do it on Microsoft Word and it won't show up!! Oh and review, or I will abandon this fic! Please, please, please review! ( (