Disclaimer: If Harry Potter were a shop, I would be the kid stuck outside, unable to go in but unable to tear myself away, watching JK Rowling sell her wares to rich multimillion corporations like Warner Bros and wishing I could get in and afford to buy a piece of Harry Potter pie, before being chased away by the lawyers. Oh, and my nose would get stuck to the window. (Translation: I own nothing.)
Warning: Contains extremely bad poetry which may cause excessive choking and paralysis by horror.
This was written for the Contra Veritas Valentine's Day Fic Exchange. As the period of anonymity is over, I can upload it :) Although I'm not sure who the recipient was/is, I hope they enjoyed it. Thanks muchly to my Beta, Helen, without whom it wouldn't have been written. And thanks to the muses for playing nicely. All information on runes was taken from http : // www . runemaker . com / runeshome . htm (remove spaces). Thanks and huge apologies to the fic exchange mods for all the extensions; I hope they were worth it.
Fic Request: #123
RATING(S) OF THE FIC REQUESTED: G to PG-13
3-5 Things to Include in the Fic:
1. Smart
alec Draco
2. Humorously mad Hermione
3. The infamous invisibility cloak
4. An explosion of some description
5. Hilariously bad poetry
What Not to Include in the Fic:
1. Depression of all forms
2. Majorly OOC Draco
3. Large portions of slash
4. Sane Lucius
5. Clichéd insults
~ * ~
Curled up by the window, Hermione Granger stared dismally out at the bleak British weather. Rain had been falling steadily for the past day, and showed no sign of stopping any time soon. The window was misted up, a combination of the damp weather, and her breath; hot against the cold glass.
As she stared at the rain, filling puddles and dripping from the drainpipes, memories had come flooding back. Memories of two summers ago, a fling in Bulgaria, and a broken heart.
Thankfully, Lavender and Parvati had shown some sense; leaving her alone to wrestle with her thoughts. She watched as tiny figures, far, far below the Gryffindor tower battled their way through the elements in their feeble attempts to escape the castle. But the weather was relentless, and they were soon forced to turn back, defeated. Sounds drifted up from the common room, the riotous laughter indicating an unofficial visit from the Weasley twins. As Head Girl, she knew she should be down there...
A gentle tapping at the door went unheard as an explosion sounded, followed by several screams. The tapping persisted, louder, as fresh laughter burst out.
"Hermione!"
Shocked from her reverie, Hermione jumped and looked around wildly.
"Are you feeling okay?" Ginny, the youngest of the Weasley tribe, stood hesitantly in the doorway. "Harry asked me to come up and find you."
Plastering a smile across her face, Hermione straightened her robes and turned to face the younger girl.
"Yes, I'm fine. I've just been studying for the Charms exam next week," lied Hermione swiftly. Ginny raised her eyebrow.
"Without your book?"
Hermione stared silently as Ginny held up the borrowed Charms book.
"What's wrong, Hermione?" Ginny stepped further into the room, concern etched across her features. "Lavender said you were just sitting and staring out the window. It's not like you to get so worked up about something that's not a test," commented Ginny, making her way over to Hermione. Hermione sank to the floor, tears shining in her eyes.
"Viktor," she whispered. Ginny groaned and rolled her eyes.
"Hermione, that was two years ago," she sighed, sitting down. "Are you going to be moping over him forever?"
"No!" Hermione glared at Ginny. "But it's alright for you, isn't it? You've got Harry. And he's your fifth boyfriend in three years. You have no trouble getting a boyfriend, or getting a date, or a valentine, or anything!"
Ginny stared blankly for a moment, and then gave a small laugh.
"You're jealous?" she asked incredulously. Hermione shook her head vehemently.
"No!" she protested. "Not at all! But..." She paused and carefully considered her next words. "When I was... friendly... with Viktor... He always claimed that... that he loved me... you understand?" Ginny nodded. "And yet he never sent me a valentine. He never bought me anything. Never even told me that he liked me. The only time I've ever received a card on Valentine's Day has been when people use it as an opportunity to insult me." She hung her head, waiting for Ginny's reaction, knowing what was coming.
"Is that all?" asked Ginny as predicted.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Ginny. You've never had a problem in that department."
An offended look crossed Ginny's face.
"What's that supposed to mean, then?" she asked irritably, crossing her arms. Her mane of red hair flew wildly around her, and Hermione sighed as she was reminded of all the things she hadn't got.
"All the boys love you," she said sadly. "Who would ever choose me?"
Ginny blinked.
"Who told you that?" she asked. Hermione hung her head.
"I know I shouldn't believe it, but he said it, and it got me thinking... it's true, you know. Nobody would willingly go out with me when they could have someone like you, or any of the other girls."
"Who said that?"
"...Malfoy."
"And you believed him?" Ginny burst out laughing, and gave her friend a hug. "That's the daftest thing you've ever done, Hermione. Malfoy doesn't know anything about it; he's just interested in screwing his way through the school."
"But what if he's right?" Hermione's voice was small.
"Hermione, he's not right. He's just trying to get to you. And he did a wonderful job. What's got into you, that you would believe him so easily?"
"Must be all the hormones in the air," smiled Hermione weakly. "I didn't believe him straight away, you know. I did think about it."
"And he put the thought into your head. Look, you've had boyfriends. Viktor chose you for who you are, not for your looks. And there's plenty of other men in the world who aren't as shallow as Draco Malfoy."
Hermione nodded. "True... I'm such an idiot for believing him," she said with a small, embarrassed laugh. Ginny hugged her again.
"No you're not. Someday, someday soon, someone is going to see you and realise how wonderful you really are, and then the rest of the world will see what they lost."
"You think so?" asked Hermione, her voice small.
"I know so," promised Ginny. "Now come on. Fred and George are terrorising the first years. We need our Head Girl!"
Hermione took a deep breath and stood up shakily.
"Alright. And Ginny... you won't tell anyone? I was just being silly, I guess. A little too emotional."
"Promise," said Ginny with a grin. "Now get down there and get rid of them before something explodes and McGonagall comes in!"
Hermione saluted, her smile matching Ginny's, and they walked down to the common room together.
~ * ~
The room was a mess.
Having finally got rid of Fred and George, threatening them with everything from McGonagall to one of Ginny's Bat-Bogey Hexes, Hermione surveyed the damage. Four first years had been injured; two with chronic nosebleeds from the Nosebleed Nougat that had been shared out; one with feathers from a dodgy Canary Cream, and the other who had got into a fight with the enraged canary.
Ron had been banished to bed for refusing to interfere with his brothers' work. The moment she had got into the common room, Hermione had let out her anger. Anger at the twins for daring to do such a thing. Anger at Ron for not stopping them. Anger at herself, for acting so shallow and stupidly. And most of all, anger at Draco Malfoy.
Cowering from the sheer force of her fury, most of the Gryffindors, those with some form of common sense, left instantly for their bedrooms, leaving scattered first and second years watching, half in excitement and half in fear, as Hermione advanced on the Weasleys.
With a sigh, she stared coldly at the first years.
"Hospital Wing," she ordered, pointing towards the portrait hole with a glare reminiscent of Snape on a bad day. Meekly, the four traipsed forward. One of them - Hermione privately nicknamed him 'Most-Likely-To-Be-Killed-By-An-Enraged-Professor' - put his hand - or wing - up.
"It's after curfew," he stated plainly. "We'll get points deducted unless accompanied by a prefect."
Hermione stared at him. She was tired. It was a Friday night. She'd made a complete and utter fool of herself, and tomorrow was Valentine's Day.
Did they have a death wish?
She shook her head, and changed the mental tag of the first boy to 'Percy Weasley, Mk II.'
"Alright. Fine. Out, now! I'll take you there, and then I'm going to bed! So you can just stay there overnight, and maybe it'll teach you a valuable lesson. Don't accept anything from Fred and George Weasley."
Percy Mk II put his hand up again. Hermione shot him a death glare, and he reconsidered quickly, putting his hand down.
"Come on, let's go," she sighed, rubbing her temples. If she'd have known that being a prefect was so hard, she would have-
-well, she'd still have accepted it, but she'd have complained a lot more.
She summoned a box of tissues, handing them to the one with the nosebleed, and then led the way out of the common room. The four first years followed in almost total silence; with only Percival the Second making muttered comments about the attitudes of prefects towards the students.
Definitely another Percy, she thought as she jumped the trick step. Will the school survive?
A strangled yell made her turn, and she smiled slightly as a feathered arm flapped wildly.
"Maybe you should walk in silence, then?" was her only comment as she pulled him from the trick step. She couldn't even remember his name, now; he would forever be Percy to her.
She sped up after that, determined to get the night over and done with. As days went, this one scored a zero. As the welcome corridor to the Hospital Wing came into sight, she felt her heart leap. The sooner she got into bed, the better.
The Hospital Wing was empty. Banishing the four to different beds, she called for Madam Pomfrey, running to find the Healer. Explaining the situation as quickly as she could, Hermione pointed out each student and what had gone wrong. Madam Pomfrey sighed and rolled up her sleeves.
"It seems that no matter what happens, those Weasleys will still keep me busy," she said with a strange smile, setting to work on the first years. Hermione watched for a moment, admiring the spells used, and then decided that bed was the best option.
Waving goodbye to the students and warning them again about Fred and George, she trudged out of the Hospital Wing and headed tiredly back to the common room. The corridors were filled with whispers, shadows, noises of the night; and she jumped at the slightest noise.
"What a night!" she exclaimed quietly, stopping and looking around the empty castle. A shaft of moonlight illuminated a path in front of her, and all around that were shadows, black, with two shining pinpoints......
Someone was there.
"Who is it?"
There was no answer, but a shadow moved. Hermione's brow creased and she drew her wand, stepping forward slightly.
"Lumos."
Light flared from the end of her wand, reaching further into the shadows, lighting the dark, revealing-
-nothing.
Hermione lowered her wand cautiously, confused, and stepped back into something, something warm, something breathing, something...
"Granger."
Hermione let out a piercing scream and spun around, wand raised.
"Malfoy!" she shouted loudly, a furious blush colouring her cheeks. "What are you doing here at this ungodly hour?"
"Looks like you've been hanging around the Weasel too much," he drawled. "Any redder and you'll blend in with his hair."
"Shut up," she said automatically, her wand still aimed at him.
"But I thought you wanted an answer," he pointed out slyly. Hermione muttered something under her breath and lowered her wand slightly.
"Patrolling," he said promptly, just as she was about to ask her question again.
"Nox," she hissed slightly more venomously than was necessary, putting her wand away, but just within reach. Malfoy attempted to give her a charming grin, but the effect was ruined by the wicked smirk that spread across his face.
"Is it at all possible for you to die and go to Hell early, Ferret features?" asked Hermione through gritted teeth. Malfoy scowled.
"Not until I've rid the world of filthy Mudbloods such as yourself, Granger."
"Good luck trying, Malfoy. I'm not going anywhere."
"We'll see, Mudblood."
"Ferret," challenged Hermione, determined not to be outdone. She stared at him angrily, and he stared back, holding eye contact. She noticed the silent challenge in his emotionless eyes, and a voice in the back of her head whispered go on, I double dare you...
"Get back to your common room, Mudblood," he whispered viciously. "Who knows what could happen to someone out on their own, late at night?"
"Is that a threat?"
"Malfoys never threaten." He broke eye contact and brushed past her. "We promise."
Hermione clutched her wand and spun around, ready to cast a hex, but he had disappeared into the shadows. She could hear his footsteps receding, and breathed a sigh of relief.
How she made her way back to the common room was a mystery, the Fat Lady's comments on her pale face lost on her as she whispered the password and ran up to bed, visibly shaken from Malfoy's words.
~ * ~
Morning came too early for Hermione, and as the sun's rays filtered through the heavy hangings around her bed, she stuck her head under her pillow, groaning.
Malfoy...
The first thing that came into her head was the memory of her encounter with him, and his mysterious words.
We'll see, Mudblood... what could he mean by that?
Rolling over and moving the pillow, Hermione stared up at the ceiling. Whispers started as Lavender and Parvati woke up and began their day as usual - finishing off their conversation from the night before.
We'll see... if that wasn't a threat, then she'd eat her robes.
I have to tell Harry and Ron, she decided, sitting up and reaching for her robes. The sooner she was with her two best friends, the happier - and safer - she'd feel.
Dressing quickly, she pushed past Parvati and walked sedately down to the common room. The chances of Harry and Ron being up at this time on a Saturday were not good, but she could easily fix that.
Scanning the common room, she started slightly in shock. Ron and Harry were not only up; they were seated in front of the fire, writing furiously.
"Good morning!" she said with a smile, sliding into her usual seat. Potions textbooks were scattered across the table, and Ron was thumbing frantically through Magical Drafts and Potions.
"Morning," answered Harry without looking up. "Have you done this essay for Snape yet?"
"Yes, I did it a few days ago," answered Hermione. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, "Why are you fussing to do it now? Normally you leave it until tomorrow at the earliest."
"Quidditch," answered both boys in unison as Ron found what he was looking for and pointed it out to Harry. Hermione smiled and shook her head. Should've known it was too good to be true.
"Are you coming for breakfast?"
Ron finally realised that she was sitting there, and turned to her.
"Breakfast? What time is it then?"
"Half past seven."
"Sun came up late today," commented Harry, making a note to include that in his Divination essay. Ron stared blankly, then clutched his stomach as it started growling.
"Blimey Harry, we've been here for an hour already! Let's go get some food, please?"
Harry put down his quill and stretched. "Alright. Where's Ginny?"
"Still asleep, probably," answered Ron. "Come on Harry, you are allowed to eat without her."
"Wait until you get a girlfriend," winked Harry, standing and walking to the foot of a flight of stairs. "Ginny!" he yelled.
There was no response. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Parvati!" he called instead.
Parvati's head appeared at the top of the stairs.
"What?"
"Go and wake Ginny up, will you?" he asked. Parvati shook her head.
"No way, Harry. Last time I did that, she hexed me. You can live without your girlfriend for a few hours." Lavender's head appeared next to Parvati's, nodding furiously.
"Please?" he begged, his eyes pleading, and he gave a charming smile. Despite herself, Parvati smiled back.
"Alright, for you. But just this once!" she admonished, disappearing. Harry grinned.
"Thanks Parvati. We'll be in the Great Hall." Harry turned and walked back over to Hermione and Ron, his hands deep in his pockets.
"Finished? Can we go now?" asked Ron impatiently. Harry shared a smile with Hermione, and led the way towards the portrait hole.
"What time did you get back last night?" he asked as Hermione fell into step beside him. Ron caught up with them and took up his place on Hermione's other side.
"Past midnight," she sighed. "I hope those first years are alright."
"They will be. Madam Pomfrey has experience with Fred and George, remember." Ron winced as Harry said this.
"Can we not talk about it? Mum's
going to kill me," he groaned.
"Another Howler, for a bet."
He put on a voice that sounded remarkably like Mrs Weasley. "Why can't you control your
brothers? Why didn't you get rid of
them? If anyone's been hurt, you're
grounded for the entire summer holidays!"
Harry snickered and Hermione looked worried. "Oh dear, I hope she doesn't find out about the first years."
"They'll be fine, Hermione. Now can
we hurry up? There's a seat at the
Gryffindor table and it's calling me."
Ron put his hand to his stomach and gave a dramatic cry, running ahead
to the entrance of the Great Hall. Harry
and Hermione followed quickly, and they made their way over to the packed
Gryffindor table.
"Morning all," said Harry cheerfully, sitting down. Ron nodded to whoever was around him before helping himself to some bacon and eggs.
"Morning," answered various Gryffindors, making room for Hermione opposite Harry and Ron.
"Has the post come yet?" asked Harry urgently. When Seamus shook his head, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"What's so important about the post?" Hermione asked curiously. Harry tapped the side of his nose knowingly.
"Got a surprise planned for Ginny," he grinned. "Pass the toast, will you?"
Hermione reached out for her own toast.
"No. You can get it
yourself."
"Please?" he begged, giving a winning smile in the hopes of making her give in. Hermione shook her head, smiling.
"Harry, after seven years, the charm has no effect. I'm immune. So you can reach the toast yourself, you lazy devil."
"Are you starving my boyfriend?" demanded a voice. Ginny prodded Seamus, who was deep in conversation with Dean, and he moved over for her to squeeze in next to Hermione. "Here Harry, I'll pass you the toast."
"Thanks Gin," grinned Harry, accepting the piece she held out. "Did you sleep well?"
"Perfectly, until Parvati and Lavender came in to wake me up. Apparently someone was ordering me down to
breakfast. I wonder who that could have
been?" she asked teasingly. Harry
ducked his head and reached for his goblet.
"Sorry Ginny," he muttered. Ginny smirked triumphantly.
"What did you want?" she asked. Harry refused to look up, chewing thoughtfully on his toast. Hermione nibbled her breakfast and watched with interest.
"Harry? Harry!" Ginny gave him a gentle kick.
"What?" he asked innocently. Ginny stared at him and, realising she wouldn't get any answers, turned slightly and kicked Ron, who had been eating steadily since he got into the Hall.
"Ron! Don't stuff," she said
severely. "You're eating all the
bacon!" She snatched the plate away
from her brother, helping herself to a similar meal, in smaller proportions.
A loud screech came from outside the Hall.
"Post," said Hermione automatically.
Parvati and Lavender, having finally finished applying their make-up -
the Muggle way, they wouldn't allow Hermione to teach them the right spells -
ran in as hundreds of owls swooped into the Hall.
Hermione scanned them, searching for a familiar owl. She spotted Pig, with a large package for Ron. Behind him flew the owl that normally delivered the Daily Prophet, the fat newspaper clutched in its talons.
The main colour was red, and the different shades of it. Valentines were showered across the four tables, some even delivered to the Staff table. As cards landed all around her, Hermione gave a small, inaudible sigh.
"Cheer up," whispered Ginny, noticing the older girl's sadness. Hermione smiled, a brittle smile, and watched the rest of the owls.
Hedwig was one of the last owls to enter the Hall. She was clutching a single red rose. Behind her came eleven other owls, each carrying a rose. Ginny gasped as they flew over to her, roses falling softly into her lap. Hedwig landed, an envelope attached to her leg.
"Oh Harry," breathed Ginny, her eyes sparkling. "Oh they're beautiful!" She leaned over and gave him a lingering kiss. She drew back, and Harry gave her a slow smile.
"Glad you like them," he whispered shyly. Ginny smiled back, and the Gryffindors around
them sighed, caught up in the moment.
Which was ruined as Hedwig gave an impatient squawk and pinched Ron's bacon.
"Oy! Hedwig!" Ron snatched at the bird, but came away clutching his fingers as Hedwig nipped them sharply. "Harry, control your bird!"
Ginny sat back down and removed the envelope, a blush rising on her cheeks. Harry stared intently at her, waiting for her reaction. Both Hermione and Ron were watching too, smiling happily.
Nobody noticed the envelope that fell to the floor, or the large eagle owl that drifted lazily out of the Great Hall.
~ * ~
"Hermione?"
The Hall was emptying now, and the golden plates emptied of food. Hermione turned to see who had spoken. Dennis Creevey stood hesitantly behind her.
"Yes?"
"I think you've dropped something," he squeaked, pointing to a slim
envelope by her feet. Hermione looked
down and started.
"Oh, what's that? Thank you Dennis," she said absently, picking it up.
"What is it?" asked Ron, peering over to read the envelope. In thin, elegant handwriting - decidedly sharp, she noticed - was simply her name. Hermione.
"I don't know," she said, confused. Harry turned his attention from Ginny to the envelope.
"Who's it from?"
"I don't know," she said again, turning it over carefully and opening
it. A small card fell out, and a piece
of parchment.
She picked up the card first, and her face flushed. Opening it, she scanned the inside, and then slammed it down angrily. The card proclaimed, in large silver letters, Happy Valentine's Day.
"Do you think this is funny?" she demanded angrily, staring at Ginny. Ginny looked up, confused.
"What?"
"Just because I was a little
upset last night, there's no need to do something like this!"
"What are you on about?" asked Ginny again. Hermione gave a frustrated yell and got up, storming out of the Great Hall. The other three looked at each other in confusion and sighed; Ginny grabbing the card and the parchment and sprinting after Hermione.
~ * ~
"Hermione!" she called, panting. "Hermione, wait!"
Hermione stopped dead, allowing Ginny to catch up with her. She stared fiercely into space.
"Why did you flip?" asked Ginny, coming straight to the point. Hermione exhaled slowly, calming herself.
"I know I was upset last night, but there was no need to try and cheer me
up with that," she spat,
pointing at the card in Ginny's hands.
"I was fine this morning,
apart from the incident with Malfoy last night."
Ginny looked down, and thrust the card and parchment into Hermione's hands. "I didn't send you that, Hermione," she said quietly. "I don't know who did, but it wasn't me."
"Oh." Hermione's voice was small.
"Yes, I think oh just about covers it," teased Ginny. "Now, what incident with Malfoy?"
Hermione looked up and smiled at Ginny. "Sorry for overreacting. It's these blasted hormones," she said with a laugh. "And the incident wasn't anything much. Just shook me up a bit." She related what had happened to Ginny, and what Malfoy had said.
"Oh of all the dirty, underhanded, filthy, disgusting, despicable, horrible, awful, nasty things to do!" exclaimed Ginny, pausing so she could add more words. "If he were here right now I'd-"
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Littlest Weasel and everyone's favourite Mudblood."
Both girls stiffened and turned around slowly.
"Bugger off, Malfoy," said Ginny pleasantly. Hermione kept her eyes away from his and stuffed the card and parchment into her pocket.
"Did the Mudblood get a valentine?" he inquired sweetly. "Did the pathetically useless Weasel
that calls himself a prefect finally confess his undying love for her? Will the school be overcome by the modern day
Romeo and Juliet?" He laughed, his
voice dripping sarcasm. "Who would
ever send you a Valentine,
Granger?"
"I didn't see any pink envelopes winging their way over to you, Ferret. But then, animal magnetism doesn't cover rodents, does it?" asked Hermione, a silent mantra running through her head. Keep calm, keep calm, keep calm...
Glaring coldly at her, Malfoy turned his attention to Ginny, pondering silently what he could say.
"Is he bothering you, Ginny?" Harry and Ron, having come to find the girls, were staring suspiciously at Malfoy.
"It's nothing that we can't handle," answered Ginny quickly before Malfoy could get his comment in.
"That's not playing fair, Weasley," he said in a bored drawl. "You're supposed to let me continue firing my amazingly witty supply of scathing remarks at Weasley until he resembles a beetroot and tries to attack me. Then I deduct points, win the argument, and we all go on our merry way."
"Dream on," snorted Ron. "You never win any arguments against us."
"Would you like me to refer you to our score sheet, Weasley? I'm sure it would take any point out of an
already pointless argument."
"If it's so pointless, why are you arguing?" asked Harry, starting to get angry. Malfoy shrugged and gave his trademark smirk.
"Malfoys have always consorted with the peasants when bored."
Ron's face was slowly starting to redden, and he reached into his pocket for his wand.
"Malfoy, why don't you shut your mouth and get lost before we hex you into
next week?" asked Hermione impatiently, drawing her wand.
"Is that a challenge, Mudblood? Would you like a duel? For I have promises to keep," said Malfoy darkly, and Hermione paled slightly as she remembered his strange threat the night before.
"I'll duel you," growled Ron, noticing Hermione's unease. "And I'll hex you so fast that you won't know which way you're going."
"Up, Weasley. I'm always going up, unlike your plebeian family who seem to be going down even further, despite the fact that they're already underneath the rest of us."
At this jibe, Ron drew out his wand, pointed it at the Slytherin, and growled, "Furnunculus!"
A jet of light shot towards Draco, who drew his wand and shouted "Protego!" A shield flew up around him, and Ron's curse was deflected into the wall, where it left a large dent.
"Locomotor mortis!"
"Expelliarmus!"
"Protego!" the five shouted simultaneously, casting spells randomly. The corridor lit up as the hexes were exchanged, the Gryffindors becoming angrier and angrier as Malfoy laughed.
"Is that the best you can do? Gryffindor's finest?" he taunted as Ron stopped, simply to think of another spell. Ginny screeched angrily and threw a Bat Bogey Hex, which was easily countered by Draco's Shield Charm.
"Rictusempra!" called Harry, hitting Malfoy in the stomach. He bent over, clutching his robes, and then reached for his wand.
"Finite Incantatem," he
hissed, straightening up. "Incendio!"
The light hit Ron's robes, setting them aflame. Hermione paled and shouted a quick "Abluo!" to put out the fire, before aiming a Stupefy at Malfoy. He threw himself sideways, the curse sailing harmlessly past and hitting a suit of armour.
"Come on, then," he goaded.
"I'd have expected better from the famous Harry Potter, after
all. Some walking on water, for example. And Granger, the smartest witch in our year, can't even defeat me?" He smirked, straightening up. "How disappointing."
Hermione raised her wand, pointing it directly at Malfoy's throat. He lifted his own, challenging her.
"Vocemperde!"
"Nugasloquere!"
A yellow bubble burst from Hermione's wand in a stream of light, shooting straight towards Malfoy. From his own wand came deep blue sparks, a fizzing beam heading straight to meet Hermione's curse.
"Expelliarmus!"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Harry and Ron's spells met Hermione's and Malfoy's. They fused together, turning an angry red.
"Everyone, get down!" hollered Hermione, sensing the danger. Harry, Ron and Ginny dove behind the
stupefied suit of armour, arms over their heads. Hermione followed, but stopped when she saw
Malfoy staring at the bubble of light.
"Malfoy!" she yelled, reaching out and grabbing his arm. "Come on, get down before it-"
The light exploded.
~ * ~
Harry was the first to emerge from their hiding place, coughing from the dust that clouded the corridor.
"...What happened?" he asked weakly. "Hermione, are you okay?"
"Hermione!" Ron and Ginny both jumped up, running out ahead of Harry. Hermione lay motionless in the middle of the corridor, her hand clutching Malfoy's robes.
"If she's hurt then I'm going to bloody kill him!" snarled Ron, crouching next to Hermione and wiping the dust from her face.
"Ron! Go get Madam Pomfrey!" snapped Harry. "Now!"
Ron looked up, worried, and nodded. "Alright, but don't let him go anywhere, because I'm gonna-"
"Ron!" shouted both Harry and Ginny.
He put up his hands in defeat and ran off to the Hospital Wing.
"Harry...?" asked Ginny tentatively. Harry drew out his wand.
"I don't think she's hurt badly," he said quietly. "Hermione?" He shook her gently. Her eyes flickered, but didn't open. Harry turned her onto her side, motioning that Ginny should do the same for Malfoy. Grumbling, she complied.
"Malfoy! Up!" she ordered.
"Come on Hermione, wake up," urged Harry gently. There was no response, from either of them.
"We'll have to wait for Madam Pomfrey to get here," said Ginny finally. Harry nodded.
"Yeah, in case we mess up or make her worse."
They sat in despair, staring at the floor, both praying that nothing bad had happened to Hermione.
Nobody spared a thought for Draco Malfoy.
"Will she be okay?" asked Ginny
anxiously, breaking the silence that had fallen. Harry nodded, attempting to put a cheerful
smile on his face.
"Of course! Madam Pomfrey can work
miracles. She'll have her fixed up and
ready to study in no time at all."
"That's good." Ginny poked Hermione. "Hermione? Wake up, come on, or you'll not have time to finish your homework," she said, half laughing, half pleading. "Please..."
"Harry! Ginny!"
Ron flew down the corridor, Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore close behind him. "Has she woken up?"
"No," answered Harry, getting shoved out of the way as Ron skidded to a halt and sat down.
"Hermione?" he asked, giving her a gentle shake. "Wake up!"
"Out of the way, Mister Weasley!" ordered Madam Pomfrey, kneeling and
checking over Hermione. She then looked
over to Draco. "Was he hit with the
same?"
"Yes," answered Ginny. Ron
cracked his knuckles meaningfully.
"Do you recall what spells were cast?" asked Dumbledore, looking at Harry. Harry met the tired blue eyes, and shook his head.
"I've never heard them before, sir."
Madam Pomfrey rolled up her sleeves. "They need plenty of rest, Albus. And perhaps a potion or two. I won't wake them up until I get them to the Hospital Wing."
"Very well, Poppy. I shall return in half an hour, and question them."
"Gently, Albus," warned Pomfrey, standing and conjuring stretchers. She levitated Hermione and Draco onto them, and started heading towards the Hospital Wing.
"Mister Potter, Miss Weasley, Mister Weasley." Dumbledore turned back towards them. "I have a request, and that is for you to stay away from the Hospital Wing whilst Miss Granger is recovering."
"Why?" asked Ron, ready to explode with worry. Dumbledore raised his hand.
"After I have discerned the reason for the explosion, I shall inform you
of her condition and of anything you can do to help. I suggest that you return to your common room
for a while." Without explaining
any further, Dumbledore swept off.
Harry stuck his hands in his pockets, defeated.
"Guess we should go back, then," he said, his voice oddly hollow. "Fancy a game of Exploding Snap while we wait?"
~ * ~
Hermione slowly opened her eyes. The pristine white of the Hospital Wing greeted her, and she sat up as quickly as she could, groaning as a dizzy spell overcame her.
"What happened to me? I feel so dizzy," she said drowsily. Her voice roused Madam Pomfrey, who bustled over with a potion.
"Take this, and then the Headmaster will explain everything," she ordered, holding out the vial. Hermione accepted it and swallowed the contents quickly, gasping for water as it burned a path down to her stomach.
"Mudblood, what did you mess up now? Stupid cow." Draco's cross voice reached her and she spun around furiously, ignoring the pounding in her head.
"I didn't mess up anything, Malfoy," she retorted. "The whole duel wasn't just some ploy to make us spend the weekend in bed with dizziness and a thumping head!" Something was wrong with this conversation, but she couldn't think straight, she didn't know what.
Draco propped himself up on his elbow, straightening his hair with his other hand. "Granger? ... Hermione? Why did you get back up for me?"
Hermione paused. Why had she? She didn't know herself, just that she had seen him in danger and had felt... something.
"It was just..." Her voice trailed off. Draco watched her expectantly.
"I did it because I had to," she answered finally. "Nothing at all to do with you."
Draco raised an eyebrow, and was about to comment when the door was pushed open and Dumbledore walked in.
"Ah, you're awake!" he said pleasantly. "How do you feel?"
"Well, Sir, to be straight with you, I feel like I've been beaten black and blue," said Hermione, putting her hand to her head.
"Granger? Why are we talking in rhyme all the time?" asked Draco suddenly, realising what had been so unusual about their conversation.
"What do you mean?" Hermione thought over the past few minutes, and then held her head in her hands. "Oh I'm going to scream!"
"What spells did you cast at each other?" asked Dumbledore, watching the two slowly. They both looked at each other.
"Vocemperde," said Hermione slowly. Draco shrugged indifferently.
"Nugasloquere."
Dumbledore smiled.
"That would explain the rather unusual side effects," he said. "A potion can be administered to stop the effects. I will ask Professor Snape to brew one, however it does take several hours. Madam Pomfrey has requested that you stay here to recover from the explosion, and so I will return when it is completed." Dumbledore nodded at them both and left the room, the door swinging shut behind him. Hermione threw herself back down angrily.
"Malfoy, please go and die," she said grumpily. "Why did this have to happen? Why?"
"You know, that poetry is bad enough to make Shakespeare throw down his quill and burn his stuff," commented Draco dryly. Hermione glared at him.
"Yours isn't an improvement, Ferret face, it's just as much of a disgrace."
Draco gave her a slightly amused look and lay back down, staring at the ceiling. Hermione threw her legs over the side of the bed and got up.
"I'm going to open the window for air."
"I'll close it again."
"Don't you dare."
"Alright. I'll complain. Madam Pomfrey wants us to rest, not wander around barely dressed." He cast an eye over the hospital pyjamas that Hermione was now wearing while her clothes were washed. Hermione blushed slightly and slid back under the blanket, pulling it up to her chin.
"This is going to be a long day," she said tiredly. "And when I get out of here, you're going to pay."
"This is perhaps the single worst event ever," groaned Draco, turning his back on Hermione. "This'll never happen again. Never."
Both stared into space, pointedly ignoring the other, until tiredness overcame them and slowly, unwillingly, they fell asleep.
~ * ~
Draco was the first to wake. He glanced at the clock on the wall, and sighed when he realised that only an hour had gone past.
There is NOTHING to do here! he thought angrily, pleased when his thoughts didn't rhyme as his words had done. At least his mind was free from the horrors of bad poetry.
He scanned the room. It was almost empty, apart from Hermione, still fast asleep in the bed next to his. He frowned, and watched her carefully. Her brown hair, in its usual frizzy mane, was spread across the pillow. One of her hands was flung carelessly out of the bed, and he stared at it. It was surprisingly small when compared to his own, with quite long, delicate fingers.
Fingers that could hurt, he thought, recalling the time when she had slapped him. He made a note to tease her about that; and about anything else he could think of while he was stuck here.
She turned over slowly, so that she was now facing him. Her hand came up and was tucked under the pillow, a small sigh escaping her. Draco rested his head on his hand, his sharp eyes noting every aspect of her face, from her now not-so-buck teeth, the eyelashes resting softly on her rosy cheek, and the light sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Not as freckled as Weasley or Weaselette, but close enough.
Getting bored of just watching her, he reached out and poked her.
"Granger, wake up and get out of bed before this pillow hits your
head," he commanded. There was no
response, just another sigh.
With a smirk, he sat up quietly and grabbed his pillow.
"Oh, Granger," he called softly, before hurling the pillow at her as hard as he could. It hit her square in the face, and she woke up coughing and spluttering.
"Malfoy!" she hollered angrily. "What are you trying to do, kill me? And it's not Granger, it's Hermione!"
"Fine then, Hermione. And it's Draco. I'm bored! There's nothing to do in this stupid ward!" he announced, flinging himself dramatically across the bed.
"Oh stop with the melodramatics, git," said Hermione with feeling, sitting up. "And don't just lie there. Get up. Sit. If you're that bored, we'll talk or something. But call me that word and I'll string you up by your-"
"Ah?" he asked, smirking. Hermione cast her mind around for a body object.
"-Ear," she finished lamely.
"So be polite to me, do you hear?"
"Would you like me to bow and grovel as well?" he inquired sweetly. "Or should I just go straight to Hell?"
Hermione glared at him, and he put up his hands.
"Fine. Polite until we get out of
here, and then it's back to how things were."
"Fine." Hermione smiled triumphantly. "So what can we say to pass the time when all we can do is talk in rhyme?"
"Search me," shrugged Draco. "The economy? Why Divination's a waste of time. Or... who sent you that valentine."
Hermione's eyes darted to the table at the side of her bed. All the contents of her pockets were there. Her wand, with a label attached reading Not to be used whilst in Hospital Wing. A pocket Ancient Runes dictionary. And the card, on top of the parchment.
"It's nothing important," she said softly. "It doesn't make sense. Probably someone having a joke at my expense."
"Nicely rhymed, Hermione," he smirked. "But your eyes tell a different
story."
Hermione closed her eyes, swallowing. Why was he asking her about this? Why was he interested? She didn't know who it was! Just like she didn't know why she had got up to pull him out of the explosion.
"It doesn't matter and I'm not going to discuss it with you. You're making such a fuss over it - anyone would think you'd sent it!"
Draco smirked, that oh so annoying smirk, and before she could do anything, he reached out and snatched the card.
"Dear sweet Hermione," he read out mockingly. "I wish your heart belonged to me. You're oh so pretty, oh so kind, gentle, sweet, with a smart mind. Whenever I see you I feel faint; your beauty really is quite quaint. Oh won't you save this heart of mine and agree to be my Valentine?"
Hermione turned scarlet and jumped out of her bed, diving onto Draco's to retrieve her card. He held it out of her reach, laughing as she tried to jump and catch it.
"Just leave it alone!" she screamed, tackling him to the floor and grabbing it back. "Leave me alone too! I don't care who sent it and neither do you! Why do you keep messing with my mind? Is it too much to ask for you to be kind?"
"If you don't care so much why've you gone red? Why did you say what you just said?" Draco pushed her off him, ignoring the little voice in his head that told him not to. Hermione fell backwards, clutching the card for dear life.
"Just please, Draco," she whispered. "Know when to let it go."
Draco sighed angrily and got back up onto his bed. "Have you even read the parchment that the sender sent?"
"No." Hermione got up slowly and sat back down opposite Draco, refusing to look at him. Thankfully the potion that Madam Pomfrey had given her had got rid of the dizziness. Now all she had to do was combat the overwhelming desire to cry.
"You're not going to cry or anything stupid over some guy, are you?" asked Draco suspiciously. Hermione shook her head and lay back.
"Shame." Draco got up from his bed and strolled around the room lazily. "It's sometimes nice to show that something's appreciated, you know."
"What?" asked Hermione.
Draco's head appeared in her vision.
"Read the letter, the sooner the better."
"Why are you nagging me about the stupid card? It's nothing to do with you, retard!" Hermione rolled over, away from Draco, scowling at the wall.
"What if I knew who sent it to you?"
Hermione smiled bitterly. "I'd rather we were insulting each other, instead of discussing a secret lover."
Draco gave an exasperated sigh and threw himself back down on his bed. "Fine.
I'll shut up about your valentine."
"The moment we get out of here, I'm hexing you into next year," muttered Hermione angrily.
"I'll curse you worse," said Draco, a vindictive glitter in his eyes; "...Mudblood."
Hermione's fists closed tightly around the card, crumpling it, and she let it fall to the floor.
"So we're back to the petty name calling, Draco?" she spat. "I thought we all grew up ages ago."
"I thought you were a smart
witch. So tell me what to call someone
who's being a-"
His sentence was cut off as Hermione spun around, her hand swinging up and coming into contact with his cheek.
"If you have any common sense, don't even think of finishing that sentence," she hissed, hiding a smile as her angry red handprint showed on Draco's cheek. He growled something incomprehensible under his breath and turned his back on her, staring furiously at the flowers on his bedside table. Hermione, trembling with the force of her anger, lay back down shakily, trying not to start screaming hysterically.
Honestly, she chided herself silently. I don't know what's wrong with me lately. It must be all the hormones in the air, especially since Harry and Ginny started dating.
~ * ~
Draco glanced at the clock.
Why won't you go faster? he thought desperately. It's so boring!
His hand was resting on his cheek, which still burned from Hermione's slap. Even though the mark had faded, he could still feel her hand there, the small, delicate hand that had dealt such a sharp slap.
He turned over. Hermione was facing away from him, and he started watching her again. Watched the way her bushy hair moved slightly as she fidgeted. Watched her arm move as every five minutes she glanced at her watch.
"Granger! Talk!" he ordered. She didn't answer, didn't move.
Well, Plan A failed. Time to try Plan B.
He reached out and picked up her Ancient Runes dictionary.
"Dagaz," he read, turning to a random page. "Meaning 'day'. Things changing in some way. In Nordic lands with their long night, Dagaz is the essence of sunlight."
There was no reaction. He turned a few pages.
"Mannaz," he said next, watching Hermione carefully. "Mankind, the self, humanity. Friends, the world, and family. Mannaz symbolises co-operation for the greater good." He sneered. "It's just a useless piece of wood."
"If it's so useless then why are you studying Ancient Runes too?" asked Hermione sharply. Draco grinned. There was his reaction.
"Fehu," he carried on, as if she hadn't spoken. "Fehu means reward, wealth, money." He closed the dictionary with a smirk. "That's the rune for me!"
Hermione turned slightly, so that she could watch what he was doing. He put the dictionary back carefully, and
picked up her wand.
"Quite nice, Granger, but it could do with a clean. This is the grubbiest wand I've ever seen." He put the spotless wand back down, sensing her irritation.
"That wand is perfectly fine, and anyway, it's mine. You don't have the right to say or do anything about it, do you?" She picked up her wand, wiping it on the bed dramatically, as if removing every trace of him.
"Talk," he ordered. Hermione carefully gathered up her things, and sat them next to her on the bed.
"No," she answered quietly, turning her back on him and opening her dictionary. Draco narrowed his eyes.
"Why?"
"Because I said so," she said simply, turning a page. Draco ran his hands through his hair. What
more can I do to get her to talk to me? he asked himself. An idea struck him, and he grinned wickedly. Oh, it was pure evil.
He loved it.
"Crabbe sent you that valentine's card," he said loudly. Hermione started choking loudly and stared at Draco, appalled.
"I helped him write it. It wasn't hard," he continued. Hermione looked like she was about to be sick. "Surely you didn't expect anyone with half a brain to write a card to someone as plain and completely pathetic as you?" He hid a triumphant smirk as she buried her face in her hands. "Besides, you're a Gryffindor... and a Mudblood, too."
Hermione froze, and time stood still as she digested Draco's remark. Eventually her head lifted. She was white with anger, her eyes glassy and unreadable, and Draco expected any and every reaction - other than the one she gave.
She burst into tears.
You've done it now, idiot, he scolded himself, feeling guilty as her loud sobs filled the air.
"Granger?" he tried, wanting her to stop crying before Madam Pomfrey
came and he got into trouble.
"Granger! Mudblood!"
"Stop calling me by that filthy name!" screamed Hermione, lifting her head slightly. "Don't you have any shame? My blood doesn't make me any less pure than you! You're so immature! If I'm so inferior to you and all your Pureblood friends then how come my magic and work transcends yours? Hmm?"
"Well... I-" started Draco, but Hermione cut him off, shoving him across the bed.
"You insist on judging me by my birth and not by my actual human worth! I'm twice the person you'll ever be! I have morals, and ethics, see? Whereas you pollute the world with lies, and enjoy the sound of others' cries! You're so blinded by prejudice that you ruin your life like this!" She ran out of breath and Draco stared at her, both in fear and awe.
"Granger-" he tried again, but she cut him off with a wave of her
hand.
"I don't want to know. Just... just go." She curled up on her bed, tears streaming down her face. Every now and then she'd give a little gulp, a quiet sob, and Draco's heart would stop. Her words echoed in his head. Blinded by prejudice... twice the person you'll ever be...
"Granger? ...Hermione?"
She didn't answer him. She didn't even move. Giving up, he lay down and closed his eyes, trying to block out all the thoughts that screamed how wrong he was.
~ * ~
Hermione lifted her head quietly. Draco lay fast asleep on his bed, oblivious to Madam Pomfrey's attempts to wake him.
"Madam Pomfrey?" she asked quietly. The witch looked up and smiled.
"Oh, you're awake. Professor Snape dropped by about five minutes ago with the potion. Once you take it, you can go back to your common room. But I want you to make sure you get plenty of rest," warned Madam Pomfrey, coming around to stand by Hermione. She offered a small vial out, and Hermione took it thankfully, swallowing the contents in one go. She gasped as the potion burned its way down to her stomach.
"Thank you," she said carefully, after a few minutes. "May I have my robes please?"
"Of course, dear. They've been cleaned up after your fight. Now don't go getting into any more duels, and make sure you spend the weekend resting. If you don't feel able to go to your classes on Monday, take the day off," said Madam Pomfrey, handing her a bundle of robes. Hermione pulled the hangings around her bed as the Healer bustled around, trying to wake Draco.
Dressing as quickly as possible, she gathered all her things up and left the room quickly, pausing once to glance at Draco. He still lay asleep - or at least, his eyes were closed.
If she had looked carefully, Hermione would have seen the tracks of his tears down his cheek.
Once outside the Hospital Wing, she broke into a run, hurrying back to the safety of the Gryffindor common room.
~ * ~
"Hermione!"
The moment she entered the common room, Hermione was hit by the force of three enthusiastic people, hugging her tightly.
"Hermione!" "You're back!" "How are you feeling?!" Harry, Ron and Ginny all started talking at once, stepping back slightly to let her breathe.
"I'm fine," she said with a smile. "Just a little tired, that's all."
"Do you need to sit down?" asked Ginny solicitously, leading her to the sofa. She sank into it gratefully, curling up. Harry and Ginny jumped up next to her, and Ron perched on the arm of the chair.
"We needed a potion brewed," she explained carefully. "Professor Snape made it as quickly as he could."
"We?" asked Ron suspiciously.
"Yes, we. The Ferret was stuck there too."
"You spent the afternoon stuck with that?" Ginny gave her a sympathetic hug. "It must have been Hell."
"Did he behave?" Ron cracked his knuckles. "'Cause if he didn't, we can sort him out, right Harry?"
"Right," affirmed Harry.
"Don't bother." Hermione was
shocked at the words coming out of her mouth.
"He behaved quite well."
"Really?" Hermione could tell that Harry didn't believe her, but she nodded anyway.
"Really. Don't worry about it." She stretched slightly, and faked a yawn. "Maybe I should go up and try to get some sleep while Lavender and Parvati are busy." She nodded to the corner where the two girls were giggling over Witch Weekly.
"If you're sure..." Ginny's voice was worried, and Hermione smiled again.
"Don't worry. I'm just tired," she said. "I'll be back later."
"Alright." Ginny gave her a
final, worried look, and then turned to the silent Harry and Ron. "Fancy a small chess tournament? We can get some of the others to play
too."
Hermione gave Ginny a grateful smile and escaped quickly.
~ * ~
Making sure that the hangings around her bed were closed tightly, Hermione sat down. She pulled the dictionary, parchment and her wand out of her pocket and sat them in front of her. Everything that she had had before the duel was there - except the card, which she had crumpled up and thrown into a bin on her way back to the common room.
Sighing with relief, she lay back. This is perhaps the worst day of my life, she thought sadly. Malfoy certainly knows how to ruin things.
Malfoy.
She sat up again, staring at the parchment. She still hadn't read it.
He may have been joking.
She reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and unfolded the parchment. There were two words, and a series of ancient runes.
Crabbe could never have written this. Not even with Malfoy's help! she realised, smiling slightly, and reading the two words.
Her name - and Draco Malfoy's.
Her jaw dropped, and she traced the letters, her hands shaking even more.
What does this mean?
She blinked and shook her head slightly, bringing herself back to reality. The runes... there were six of them. She looked at each one in turn, saying their names aloud.
"Gebo. Wunjo. Ingwaz. Sowilo. Fehu. Naudiz."
Putting down the parchment, she reached for her dictionary, a spare piece of parchment, and a quill. Flicking through the dictionary, she made brief notes on each of the rune in an attempt to decipher the letter somehow. When she finished, she looked over the notes.
Gebo - Forgiveness, love, partnership. 'Ask for forgiveness and it will be given. Be not afraid to declare love.'
Wunjo - Happiness, light, emotional satisfaction. 'Understanding, success in romance. Partnerships flourish. Your eyes are opened to the truth.'
Ingwaz - Harmony. Love. Unity. Peace. 'Agreement, harmony, togetherness and undying love between romantic partners. A light shining in the darkness.'
Sowilo - Discovery, light, energy. 'The capacity to learn, the gift of understanding.
Fehu - Reward, wealth, nourishment. 'Realised ambition, love fulfilled. Be charitable and show compassion.'
Naudiz - Necessity, extremity. 'Need, want, craving, desire.'
As she read them, the pieces finally clicked into place. Hermione put the parchment down, carefully, and buried her head in the pillow.
Now what?
~ * ~
Draco left the Hospital Wing slowly, his eyes fixed on the floor.
Why did I do that? Why did I have to open my big mouth? he wondered, letting his feet find their own way down to the Slytherin common room. Muttering the password - 'Daydream believer' - he threw himself into one of the black leather chairs, and decided that Pansy wasn't allowed to choose the password again.
Well, Draco, you really messed that up. He stared into the fire, seeing her face amongst the flames, hearing her laugh on every crackle.
Why on earth did you fall for the Mudblood?
He thought back to the first time he had felt anything other than disdain for her. In their third year, when Hagrid had been fighting the case of the rampant hippogriff - Buckbeak, wasn't it? She had thrown herself into saving the animal, and he had often seen her spend the night in the Library, determined that the beast would get free.
When she hadn't won, she had cried for the injustice. He had never seen anyone cry over something like that before; never seen anyone care so much that something, a hideous hippogriff, was found guilty. Even though it had been guilty - his remarks had nothing whatsoever to do with it, after all.
And then she had slapped him.
It was then that he saw her as more than just a filthy, useless Mudblood.
Over the years, he had kept his distance, watching her grow, mature, and become even more pure and just so good. It made one feel quite ill... but yet there was a quiet charm there that attracted even Slytherins.
Slytherins like himself.
And then, when his father had been sent to Azkaban...
Draco's eyes narrowed. She had offered him her sympathy. He had laughed at her, mocked her, but was strangely touched by her gesture. He remembered what Weasley had said to her.
Hermione, why are you bothering with the Ferret? It's good that Lucius is in Azkaban, it means there's one less filthy stinking Death Eater to kill us all.
Her reply still haunted his dreams, even now, over a year later.
He's still a human, Ron, whatever you might think, and it hurts to lose a father!
Of course it had hurt. The moment Lucius was convicted, Draco's reputation in Slytherin house had been severely damaged, and he'd had to fight his way back to the top. He hadn't cared for his father, only for himself - it was in the Malfoy Code of Honour, after all. But the fact that she had cared, Hermione, a Mudblood and a Gryffindor. One of Potter's best friends. She had been the only one to speak to him, to say how sorry she was.
He still hated her, of course he did. She was a symbol of everything bad, everything that had gone wrong in his life, and he hated her more than anything.
But hate and love are opposing forces, each just as strong... and one can turn to the other in a single moment...
~ * ~
The sun was setting, setting the castle alight as its rich, red rays cast their glow across the grounds; reflected in every window, filling every room.
As the light changed, Hermione finally lifted her head and stumbled out of the room; her legs shaky from lack of food. She steadied herself and made her way sedately down to the common room, where the chess tournament was still going on; now featuring the entire house.
"Come on Harry, move the bishop!" yelled Dean, standing behind Harry's chair. Lavender pushed him aside.
"Don't do that, he'll capture your knight!
Move your queen!"
"Why are you bothering? Two galleons says that Ron wins," said Ginny loftily, seated exactly halfway between her brother and her boyfriend. Her bouquet of roses had been placed in a small vase next to her.
"I'll take that bet!" said Neville, scrambling in his pockets for some money. "Two galleons on Harry!"
Hermione pushed her way through the crowds, and they all quietened as she approached the board.
"Harry?" she whispered, bending over to speak into his ear. "Can I borrow your Invisibility cloak?"
"Yeah," he answered. "Would you move the bishop or the queen?"
"Neither. I'd move that pawn," she said with a smirk, pointing out a safe play to Harry. He nodded.
"Thanks Hermione."
"Oh, and..." She stood up and headed towards the boys dorms. "Two galleons on Ron."
A loud cheer, with a few intermingled boos went up, and she laughed and ran up to the empty dorm. A quick search in the trunk at the end of Harry's bed revealed the Invisibility cloak, neatly folded and hidden beneath one of Dudley's old jumpers.
She threw it over herself, checking in the mirror that she was totally covered, and then ran down to the common room. Watching the chess for a few moments (where Ron was slaughtering Harry), she took a deep breath and left the common room.
~ * ~
She found him in the Entrance Hall, leaning against the open door and staring up at the stars. The moon was high in the sky, full; its white light illuminated everything. She walked a little closer, keeping as quiet as she could, wanting to watch him a little longer.
For once, he wasn't wearing any robes, simply a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that read Quidditch: All About Balls. She stifled a giggle. Malfoy, in jeans? Why would he be wearing something so fundamentally Muggle as them?
Quidditch World Cup, Hermione. He had to have been wearing Muggle clothes for that, she remembered, chiding herself for caring what he wore. She had come for an apology, an answer, not a fashion statement. She looked away quickly, to shake the memories of the World Cup out of her head, and then looked back.
His white-blonde hair was gelled back, as usual, brushing the nape of his neck. It shone in the moonlight, shimmered as he fidgeted. He turned his head slightly, and she saw his eyes.
They seemed to be on fire. Not only from the white light that sparked off his grey eyes, giving them an ethereal appearance. They burned with an inner passion, inner torment. Something she had never seen before in anyone's eyes, let alone his.
She cast a thoughtful eye over the rest of him. Well built; but then, so was Harry, and Ron, and all the Quidditch players in the school. He did have good bone structure, his face that of a young Adonis.
She turned her attention back to his eyes, the eyes that had, before, so detracted from his unearthly beauty. Now, burning with the intensity of the emotions, they became not slate grey; which is cold, dull; but molten lead, which is fiery, red hot, always changing.
Don't distract yourself any more, Hermione. You might forget what you came for.
She took off the cloak and stepped forward.
~ * ~
Draco turned at the footsteps, clicking across the marble floor. His defences automatically sprung up, his eyes cooling and solidifying into a cold wall, hiding his fear, his hate, his love.
"Granger," he acknowledged coolly, silently wishing that she would leave him alone.
"Malfoy," she responded, stepping a little closer. He looked over her, her bushy hair, her captivating brown eyes, and then told himself off for staring. He didn't like her.
No... but you love her.
Draco decided to simply ignore her, and turned back to stare as the moonlight danced across the surface of the lake.
The perfect setting... now if only you could stop being such an ass.
"Malfoy?"
"What, Granger?" He refused to look at her, refused to give in to his emotions. Malfoys did not do such things.
"I never got to thank you."
"Thank me? What on earth has possessed you, Granger?" His head twitched slightly, as he started to turn, to look at her, and caught himself in time.
"For the card."
Draco's eyes widened in disbelief, and he turned to gape at her.
"What makes you think I would lower myself to such a filthy standard?" he asked after a while. Hermione smiled, an annoying, know-it-all smile that he made him want to slap her.
"The letter that you accidentally left inside the card that you accidentally sent," she informed him. He resisted the urge to wring her neck and settled for a sneer instead.
"Granger, keep me out of your fantasies," he countered weakly.
Okay, perhaps that was the worst comeback ever, in the history of magic.
"Why did you send it?" she asked, ignoring his remark.
"Because I love you," he said sarcastically. "I want to throw you down and shag you senseless."
No, that was even worse. Way to go, Draco.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, an amused look on her face. Draco's hands itched, he wanted to wrap them around her good-for-nothing neck and...
...possibly shag her senseless. But then he'd kill her. Maybe. If she didn't stop acting so damn superior.
"You owe me an apology," she said, again ignoring his previous comment. A look of pure confusion crossed Draco's face.
"What? Why?"
"An apology, Malfoy. It's all part of the concept of manners, that as heir to an aristocratic, arrogant, inbred family, you should know about."
"I know what an apology is, Granger. What I don't know is why you think I owe you one."
"For even daring to suggest that Crabbe would have the ability to write a card, and a letter in Ancient Runes, when in fact it was you and your smug, Slytherin self."
"You missed out superior." He folded his arms and met her stare. "I'd never apologise to a Gryffindor Mudblood."
He winced as Hermione looked away sharply, tears springing to her eyes. She blinked them away quickly, but not quick enough.
"Why do you get upset when someone says that?" His curiosity got the better of him, even though his senses were screaming at him to shut up.
"Because it's prejudice! And prejudice grows inside you, and makes everyone hate one another until we end up with another Voldemort, killing innocent people just because of intolerance!" She was shouting, her eyes flashing wildly. "It shows that people just don't understand one another, and so they'd rather hurt and kill them than try and get to know them, and realise that we're all human!"
"Unless we're werewolves, vampires, demons or teachers," he
added. "Then you're undead and
demonic."
"Oh grow up, Malfoy," she snapped.
He felt a twinge, a guilty spark, sensing her irritation.
"So, Granger. If you're so smart, how do you get people to understand one another when they don't want to?" He was actually enjoying himself. No one in Slytherin was capable of holding a decent conversation with him.
"The first thing is to realise that other people actually have first names!" she retorted.
"I love it when you're angry," he smirked, watching the blush come to
her cheeks. "Alright Granger-"
"Hermione. If you were capable of saying it earlier, you are now."
"Come now Granger, surely you know that there are more rhymes for Hermione than Granger?" He winked and watched her fists clench. "Hermione. What do you do then?"
"You act nice towards them, you
don't mock them all the time, and treat them like human beings!" she said
fiercely. Draco frowned.
"But it sounds so boring."
"Just because you're not fit to run in the human race, doesn't mean the rest of us are the same."
Draco's eyebrows shot up. She had actually countered his argument and made him want to laugh.
Yes, she's funny, intelligent, and you're madly in love with her. Say it, say it, say it.
Draco was unimpressed by his conscience, making such ridiculous comments. But as she bit her lip, watched him carefully for his next move, her eyes filled with concern, anger, radiating purity...
"Oh bugger it." He reached
forward and his arms slipped around her waist, pulling her to him. In one fluid motion he captured her lips, closed
his eyes, held her as close as he could.
To his amazement, Hermione cautiously lifted her hands, hesitantly put them around his neck, and responded, throwing her heart and soul into the kiss.
Time seemed to stand still, and his mind, all his thoughts emptied. The only thing he knew was her, and in that moment he finally accepted that he loved her.
~ * ~
She didn't know why she was kissing him, or why her fingers were now stroking the wispy ends of his hair. She knew it went against everything she believed, everything she had ever known; but she knew it was right.
When she finally drew back, gasping from the sheer intensity of the moment, his eyes were filled with the same passion that she had admired only a few moments ago.
She brought that to his eyes. No one else.
"Hermione," he breathed, looking lost and strangely innocent. Like a child who's realised they've lost their way. But within moments of recovering, his familiar smirk was fixed firmly in place.
"Granger," he said with a devilish leer. She blushed slightly and looked away.
"Malfoy," she said neutrally, wondering why she still had her arms around him.
"I do hope you won't damage my reputation."
"What?" She looked back, startled.
"Dating a Mudblood," he responded evenly. "If it ruins my reputation, then I will
most definitely be having words with that Mudblood."
Hermione suppressed a smile. "I'm sure that the Muggleborn," she emphasised, "will try her best not to damage the almighty Ferret's status around the school."
"She'd better not," growled Draco, giving her another soft kiss. "If she does, then I won't be asking her to accompany me to Hogsmeade next Saturday."
"I'm pretty sure that she'll be there." This time, Hermione couldn't repress her grin. "Waiting outside the castle."
"Then obviously I'll see her then."
Draco stepped back, bowed with a flourish, and gave another smirk before
brushing past her and down a corridor.
Hermione leant against the wall and watched the stars until she could no
longer hear his footsteps.
Once they had gone, she pulled herself back together. Gathering up the Invisibility cloak, she straightened her robes purposefully and strode off to the Gryffindor Tower, the smile on her lips the only trace of what had happened.
Hogsmeade would be fun.
~ * ~
Latin translations were courtesy of Helen. I can't remember exactly what they mean (bad me!) but vocempedre and nugasloquere mean something along the lines of 'to lose the voice' and 'to talk nonsense'. Yes, I know I'm bad :P I should have written it down.
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