When she passed thought the portrait, she heard a known voice in a
disbelief tone:
"Hermione?!"
Hermione stopped. She couldn't remember seeing both of them alone in the Common Room for at least a month. Maybe more. She looked down at herself. Her clothes were wrinkled. She had some shirt buttons undone. Her hair was probably a mess.
"Hello, Harry, Ron," she sighed.
"Hermione, what happened?" Asked Harry. "Were you attacked or something?"
Hermione sat down on the couch. What could she possibly say?
"Hermione," Ron said seriously. "You better start at the beginning."
And she did. For the lack of anything better to say, incapable of telling a single lie, she told both of them about her problems with Malfoy. About the other days. The meetings, the tension, about the library. Ron did try to interrupt once or twice, but mostly he was fascinated by it all, as if it was some kind of horror story. She got almost as far as the end of her "studying session" with Malfoy on the library, when it happened:
"I can't hear this anymore! That's just disgusting!" Ron shouted, raising from his seat and walking about, arms moving angrily. "How could you have sex with bloody Malfoy? It's just..." he paused, looking for a word to describe how he felt. He couldn't. "It's just too much!"
"I didn't have sex with him!" Hermione said, eyes tearing up.
"As good as!" Ron spat back.
"I'm sorry!" Hermione shouted, already crying. Harry watched silently, a frown appearing on his face. He would have to talk to both Ron and Hermione later, separately. If he got involved defending Malfoy, he risked being punched in the face by both of his best friends. They seemed to agree in the "it's just too much" point.
"Hermione," he called, getting up. "You should probably sleep. And avoid Malfoy for a few days. You know."
"For life, you mean," Ron shot.
"Th--that's exactly what I'm going to do," said Hermione, sniffling. "It's just-- he just-- I--"
"It's okay," said Harry.
"It's bloody well not okay," Ron interjected. "If the git gets close to you, just yell."
Harry looked at Ron for a long moment. It was unlikely that either of them would be close to Hermione to "protect her" from Malfoy. Not that she needed it, anyway. It was probably a misunderstanding, after all. 'I hope.'
***
The month that followed turned out to be Hermione's worst nightmare come true. She hadn't felt that tense even when Voldemort was killing muggle- borns in the past. Her schedule became completely erratic, trying to avoid Malfoy at any cost. She started to eat at the kitchens, sometimes in her own room, sometimes even skipping meals to avoid him. Walking around the castle to stay away from the places he walked by turned her into a paranoid loner. No one wanted to walk through the dark corridors she did, and she spent the entire time jumping at shadows. More so, she simply stopped doing her Potions assignments. No matter what messages Malfoy sent, she refused to meet with him alone to work. At Potions Class itself, Hermione simply pretended Malfoy didn't exist.
To say her tactics didn't work would be to make an injustice. They did. She almost never met Malfoy, and was able to literally run away whenever she did. Dark circles now where permanent under her eyes, and she twitched often. Ron would tell her that she looked like she did during her third year. 'How nice,' she thought. 'It's nice to know that I look like I'm working thirty hours a day.'
So intent she was in escaping from Malfoy at all costs, that she forgot completely about the Christmas holidays. It was with an immense relief that she signed the list to leave Hogwarts then. When neither of her friends signed, she didn't think much of it.
That proved to be her greatest mistake so far. Or, as Harry would argue, not.
***
It was the first time in weeks that Hermione Granger got out of bed with a smile on her face. She had packed her trunk the day before, and was all set to spend some wonderful holidays with her family. She would ask Harry and Ron often about the reasons for her liking Christmas, and both would deadpan:
"Because you won't see Malfoy."
Harry would then add that she was reminding him of his uncle, and that it was scary.
But on that day, a few days before Christmas, Hermione couldn't care less. As she travelled on the thestral-pulled carriage towards Hogsmead, she felt free. She wouldn't have to worry about Malfoy for a bleeding week!
Harry and Ron were accompanying her, of course.
"Hermione," Ron said as they got down from the carriage. "I got some--"
"Ron! You said you wouldn't tell!" Harry interrupted angrily.
"She needs to know!" Ron shot back.
"Stop talking about me as if I was not here!" Hermione said, angrily putting her hands on her hips. "What is it, Ron?"
"It's Malfoy, Hermione. He'll be in the train. And none of us will be there. I just thought you should know--"
Hermione felt the world stopping around her. She felt the muscles of her arm contract, as well as her face's.
"What?" She asked quietly.
"Hermione, it's--" Harry began.
"Ohmygod, it's him," Hermione breathed.
Both boys turned.
"No, it's not," Ron answered, eyeing Hermione warily. "I mean, it's Dean. He... erm... looks exactly the opposite from Malfoy."
"No, behind him," Hermione pointed towards an empty space.
"Right," said Ron, glancing at Harry and mouthing 'nutters'.
"Hermione, you better--" Harry began, touching her arm lightly.
"NO! DON'T BLOODY TOUCH ME!" She yelled back, her eyes wild.
Harry pulled his hand away as if burned, and stepped back. Hermione, however, kept screaming:
"You are a bloody git, Malfoy! You never leave me alone! Never! NEVER! NEVER!"
"Hermione, you're making a scene," Ron whispered, clearly not understanding the situation.
"AND YOU, MALFOY!" She pointed at Ron, now yelling at him. "KEEP LOOKING AT ME, AND MAKING ME WANT YOU AND-- AND! OOOHH, I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"
Passersby were looking at Ron as if he was some sort of monster. He looked around nervously before answering:
"Hermione, we'd better take you to Madam Pomfrey and--"
"STAY AWAY! STAY AWAY, MALFOY! AND MIND THOSE EYES OF YOURS!"
"Someone called?" Draco Malfoy asked, from only a few meters behind Hermione. She turned and screamed. Malfoy just kept looking at her. "Granger, you're going to lose the train."
Hermione kept screaming. Her face was frozen like that, without even blinking. Finally, she collapsed.
Malfoy rushed towards her, truly worried about what happened, but Ron growled:
"Stay away!"
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but saw Harry looking seriously at him:
"Go home, Malfoy. She needs some time without you around."
For a moment, Harry's tone of voice caught him off-guard. He stood still for a while, then nodded. He was a bit disappointed, though. He had thought of talking to Hermione, and more, during the trip. She did manage to mostly avoid him the past month, which had left him somewhat desperate to talk about what happened.
'Well,' he told himself. 'She's in no state to talk about any... thing... between us.' With that, he walked towards the train, looking back from time to time. A small group of people were now circling the fallen Hermione, who was being held by Weasley. 'I hope she gets better,' he thought before entering the train. At that precise moment, he hated his father for asking him to come back to the Manor for the holidays.
***
"Hermione?!"
Hermione stopped. She couldn't remember seeing both of them alone in the Common Room for at least a month. Maybe more. She looked down at herself. Her clothes were wrinkled. She had some shirt buttons undone. Her hair was probably a mess.
"Hello, Harry, Ron," she sighed.
"Hermione, what happened?" Asked Harry. "Were you attacked or something?"
Hermione sat down on the couch. What could she possibly say?
"Hermione," Ron said seriously. "You better start at the beginning."
And she did. For the lack of anything better to say, incapable of telling a single lie, she told both of them about her problems with Malfoy. About the other days. The meetings, the tension, about the library. Ron did try to interrupt once or twice, but mostly he was fascinated by it all, as if it was some kind of horror story. She got almost as far as the end of her "studying session" with Malfoy on the library, when it happened:
"I can't hear this anymore! That's just disgusting!" Ron shouted, raising from his seat and walking about, arms moving angrily. "How could you have sex with bloody Malfoy? It's just..." he paused, looking for a word to describe how he felt. He couldn't. "It's just too much!"
"I didn't have sex with him!" Hermione said, eyes tearing up.
"As good as!" Ron spat back.
"I'm sorry!" Hermione shouted, already crying. Harry watched silently, a frown appearing on his face. He would have to talk to both Ron and Hermione later, separately. If he got involved defending Malfoy, he risked being punched in the face by both of his best friends. They seemed to agree in the "it's just too much" point.
"Hermione," he called, getting up. "You should probably sleep. And avoid Malfoy for a few days. You know."
"For life, you mean," Ron shot.
"Th--that's exactly what I'm going to do," said Hermione, sniffling. "It's just-- he just-- I--"
"It's okay," said Harry.
"It's bloody well not okay," Ron interjected. "If the git gets close to you, just yell."
Harry looked at Ron for a long moment. It was unlikely that either of them would be close to Hermione to "protect her" from Malfoy. Not that she needed it, anyway. It was probably a misunderstanding, after all. 'I hope.'
***
The month that followed turned out to be Hermione's worst nightmare come true. She hadn't felt that tense even when Voldemort was killing muggle- borns in the past. Her schedule became completely erratic, trying to avoid Malfoy at any cost. She started to eat at the kitchens, sometimes in her own room, sometimes even skipping meals to avoid him. Walking around the castle to stay away from the places he walked by turned her into a paranoid loner. No one wanted to walk through the dark corridors she did, and she spent the entire time jumping at shadows. More so, she simply stopped doing her Potions assignments. No matter what messages Malfoy sent, she refused to meet with him alone to work. At Potions Class itself, Hermione simply pretended Malfoy didn't exist.
To say her tactics didn't work would be to make an injustice. They did. She almost never met Malfoy, and was able to literally run away whenever she did. Dark circles now where permanent under her eyes, and she twitched often. Ron would tell her that she looked like she did during her third year. 'How nice,' she thought. 'It's nice to know that I look like I'm working thirty hours a day.'
So intent she was in escaping from Malfoy at all costs, that she forgot completely about the Christmas holidays. It was with an immense relief that she signed the list to leave Hogwarts then. When neither of her friends signed, she didn't think much of it.
That proved to be her greatest mistake so far. Or, as Harry would argue, not.
***
It was the first time in weeks that Hermione Granger got out of bed with a smile on her face. She had packed her trunk the day before, and was all set to spend some wonderful holidays with her family. She would ask Harry and Ron often about the reasons for her liking Christmas, and both would deadpan:
"Because you won't see Malfoy."
Harry would then add that she was reminding him of his uncle, and that it was scary.
But on that day, a few days before Christmas, Hermione couldn't care less. As she travelled on the thestral-pulled carriage towards Hogsmead, she felt free. She wouldn't have to worry about Malfoy for a bleeding week!
Harry and Ron were accompanying her, of course.
"Hermione," Ron said as they got down from the carriage. "I got some--"
"Ron! You said you wouldn't tell!" Harry interrupted angrily.
"She needs to know!" Ron shot back.
"Stop talking about me as if I was not here!" Hermione said, angrily putting her hands on her hips. "What is it, Ron?"
"It's Malfoy, Hermione. He'll be in the train. And none of us will be there. I just thought you should know--"
Hermione felt the world stopping around her. She felt the muscles of her arm contract, as well as her face's.
"What?" She asked quietly.
"Hermione, it's--" Harry began.
"Ohmygod, it's him," Hermione breathed.
Both boys turned.
"No, it's not," Ron answered, eyeing Hermione warily. "I mean, it's Dean. He... erm... looks exactly the opposite from Malfoy."
"No, behind him," Hermione pointed towards an empty space.
"Right," said Ron, glancing at Harry and mouthing 'nutters'.
"Hermione, you better--" Harry began, touching her arm lightly.
"NO! DON'T BLOODY TOUCH ME!" She yelled back, her eyes wild.
Harry pulled his hand away as if burned, and stepped back. Hermione, however, kept screaming:
"You are a bloody git, Malfoy! You never leave me alone! Never! NEVER! NEVER!"
"Hermione, you're making a scene," Ron whispered, clearly not understanding the situation.
"AND YOU, MALFOY!" She pointed at Ron, now yelling at him. "KEEP LOOKING AT ME, AND MAKING ME WANT YOU AND-- AND! OOOHH, I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"
Passersby were looking at Ron as if he was some sort of monster. He looked around nervously before answering:
"Hermione, we'd better take you to Madam Pomfrey and--"
"STAY AWAY! STAY AWAY, MALFOY! AND MIND THOSE EYES OF YOURS!"
"Someone called?" Draco Malfoy asked, from only a few meters behind Hermione. She turned and screamed. Malfoy just kept looking at her. "Granger, you're going to lose the train."
Hermione kept screaming. Her face was frozen like that, without even blinking. Finally, she collapsed.
Malfoy rushed towards her, truly worried about what happened, but Ron growled:
"Stay away!"
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but saw Harry looking seriously at him:
"Go home, Malfoy. She needs some time without you around."
For a moment, Harry's tone of voice caught him off-guard. He stood still for a while, then nodded. He was a bit disappointed, though. He had thought of talking to Hermione, and more, during the trip. She did manage to mostly avoid him the past month, which had left him somewhat desperate to talk about what happened.
'Well,' he told himself. 'She's in no state to talk about any... thing... between us.' With that, he walked towards the train, looking back from time to time. A small group of people were now circling the fallen Hermione, who was being held by Weasley. 'I hope she gets better,' he thought before entering the train. At that precise moment, he hated his father for asking him to come back to the Manor for the holidays.
***