Clandestine Rendezvous

Chapter 1: Misery, Mischief, and Menace

----1----

Hermione Granger watched as the boy she loved, the boy she had always loved, gave his girlfriend a warm hug and a tender kiss on her smooth forehead. She had no right to feel jealous; after all, she was only Hermione, the know-it-all mudblood with a bossy attitude to match. But even as she watched Harry holding Cho in his arms as if he would never let go, she had a hard time trying to control the tears rising to her eyes. She lowered her head and furtively wiped away two tears at the corners of her eyes. Looking up again, she murmured into Ron's ear, "I'm going back to the common room," before standing and leaving.

Ginny, who sat next to Ron on the bleachers, noticed this. "What's wrong with Hermione?"

Ron shrugged as he watched her walk off. "How would I know?"

They were at Quidditch practice, and they had been just about to leave when the Ravenclaw team arrived. Cho had run over to Harry, throwing her arms around his neck and giggling. It was apparent that Harry had never gotten over Cho and, now that she had properly mourned over Cedric Diggory, the now deceased golden boy, she turned her attentions on Harry. Ron felt happy for Harry; after all, he had the girl of his dreams. Hermione, though, was clearly upset, probably because she didn't have anyone. Well, neither did he, but he wasn't storming off! Turning his attention back to the field, he observed the Ravenclaw team taking off and Harry standing below, on the field, grinning like a madman.

"Team, let's go," Ron said laughingly. "Harry, that means you, too."

----2----

Hermione wandered amid the shelves of books that aligned her sanctuary, the Hogwarts library. Picking out a random book, she found an empty table and began leafing through it. But she couldn't concentrate on the task. Her mind kept reverting back to the scene she had seen a while ago, out on the Quidditch field, of Harry's look of delight as Cho entered the field, of his lips caressing her skin, of their utter contentment standing there together. She knew she should be happy for him, but it hurt seeing them like that. Especially because she, Hermione Granger, had been the one who was always there for Harry, from the first year to now, their sixth year of school. Cho had rejected him in the fourth, confused and frazzled him the fifth, and now here she was, latching onto him every time they happened to be in the same room.

The more she thought about it, the more upset she became. Anger, betrayal, and despair flooded through her, a torrent of rampant emotion. Hermione was oblivious to everything else—especially the wizard leaning casually against a shelf, watching her with muted interest. "Well, Granger, I never knew it took you twenty minutes to read a single sentence," he drawled.

Hermione snapped out of her thoughts, giving a little jolt in the chair. When she turned to look at him, her wide eyes narrowed and she muttered nastily, "Malfoy."

"Good to see you remember my name, Granger," Malfoy sneered.

"Leave, Malfoy. I'm studying and I don't need you interrupting my concentration." Hermione grimaced as she looked back down at the textbook. She had been reading the same sentence over and over again. 

"Really? Just what were you concentrating on? You seem to be utilizing too much emotion to be reading a passage from Magical Flora Throughout History," he scoffed, walking over to glance at the book. Hermione realized with horror that her hands were white from being clenched into fists and her nails had cut into the soft skin of her palm. Malfoy noted this and sneered again. "Try not to get blood on the book, Granger. Who knows? Maybe I'll need to use it later."

He strode away, leaving a dismayed Hermione sitting at the table, staring at the fresh, crimson liquid trickling down her hands.

Ginny came wandering through the shelves to find her a little later. Hermione had drawn up her legs to her chest, hugging them there and trembling uncontrollably. She didn't notice her presence, even when she stood right next to her. Ginny waited for acknowledgement for a while before laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"'Mione?" Ginny asked worriedly. She glanced up at her, but didn't stop trembling. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"I'm cold," she replied faintly. "I'm so cold." Ginny knelt down next to her so that they were at eye level and pulled her into an embrace, despite Hermione's blood-stained hands. They stayed in that position until Hermione stopped shivering a good while later.

----3----

Draco Malfoy was, if anything, perceptive. He saw everyone and everything, and that was what made him exasperating to friends and enemies alike.

He saw Harry Potter's supposed infatuation with Cho Chang. He saw Ron Weasley's thickheaded oblivion to Granger's distress. He saw the mudblood's disgust and envy towards Chang and Potter's relationship. He saw the youngest Weasley's happiness for Potter, despite her reemerging love for him. And he even saw the fat Gryffindor, Longbottom, had a schoolboy crush on Hermione.

And perhaps most important, he saw the quiet adoration in Potter's eyes whenever he regarded Ron Weasley.

-----

Draco leaned his head against the common room window pane, watching the wind push back the blades of grass on the grounds, causing them to sway in a simple dance. Beyond the grassy plain, the Forbidden Forest loomed up, mysterious and gloomy, a place of veiled danger, as the old coot Dumbledore continually warned the students.

Draco was bored stiff. His goons Crabbe and Goyle were sitting on the floor a little ways off, discussing what was better—cake or candy.

"But cake has frosting!" Goyle protested after a long period of time when he had come close to actually thinking.

"Candy has… has… sweet stuff!" Crabbe followed after another considerable pause.

"Cake is soft!" Goyle cried again.

"Candy melts!" Crabbe yelled.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment, wishing they would just shut up. He took out his wand and pointed it to their mouths. "Silencio."

Crabbe, who was just about to speak again, opened his mouth and realized with alarm that nothing was coming out. He gestured desperately to his mouth, but Goyle, being the simple-minded slug he was, didn't understand. He tried to ask Crabbe what he was saying, but then realized he couldn't speak, either. They stared at each other for a moment before running around the room, trying to scream at the top of their lungs. Finally, worn out, Goyle crawled over to Malfoy and held out a piece of paper.

I thinc i turnd def.

Draco rolled his eyes and replied, "You're not deaf, Goyle. You can hear me, can't you?"

Goyle's eyes widened and he pulled his scrap of parchment back, scribbling on it again.

u kan reed minds!

Draco tried not to be too disappointed by their lack of brains as he turned back to the window. Two figures, huddled together, were trying to sneak across the grounds without being seen. Draco looked closer. It was Potter and his girlfriend, Chang, heading for the Forbidden Forest. He smirked. They were probably trying to find a place to snog without being interrupted by first years, teachers, or jealous friends, for that matter. A mischievous gleam bounced into Draco's eyes as he slid away from his perch next to the window and walked out of the common room. Crabbe and Goyle would figure out what happened to them in a couple of hours, he thought. Right now, it was time to throw a little chaos into Potter's romantic outing.

----4----

From another vantage point in the Hogwarts castle, Hermione watched Harry escort Cho into the Forbidden Forest. The first thing that jumped into her mind was the bitter resentment that it was Cho underneath Harry's arm, not her. Then she realized how much trouble they were going to be in if they were found. She considered leaving them to their fate, but her loyalty to Harry won over and she snuck out to find them and bring them back.

As she stole across the grounds, taking care to stay out of sight, she noticed a shadow passing stealthily through the trees. A second later, it was gone. Hermione shook her head. It must have been a figment of her imagination.

As she stepped over the dead logs on her way into the forest, the afternoon sun was steadily sinking from its position in the sky. Hermione glanced at it. She would have to find Harry and Cho soon. She searched for the path they made by trampling through the wood. Branches lay snapped, footprints in the soft dirt, and the trodden twigs and leaves marked their trail. She could see the shadow of a figure ahead and hoped she had found them.

"Harry!" she yelled, her pace quickening to a jog. "Harry!"

As the solitary form turned, she realized it was not Harry, but the person she least expected to see, the person she didn't want to see the most. Draco Malfoy smirked as she drew near, one eyebrow cocked in his usual arrogant manner. "So, Granger, here to find Scarhead and his girlfriend?"

She glared at him. "Go drink piss, Malfoy. I need to bring Harry back in before Professor McGonagall finds we're gone."

Malfoy's smirk only grew wider. "What language, Mudblood. I thought you knew better."

Hermione snarled at him. "Well, ferret, it's impossible to be polite to you of all people." She made to move, but he stepped in front of her.

"Just what are you doing here?" he hissed, a malevolent twinkle in his eye.

"Trying to save Harry from trouble." Hermione tried to step past him, but he blocked her again.

"Really? So you didn't want to spy on the two? You didn't want to imagine that Pothead was kissing you, not Chang?" He smiled knowingly, watching as Hermione's face flushed. "Wow, Granger. I thought only Weasel's face turned into a beet."

"Shove it," she scowled, whipping out her wand. Malfoy took a step back.

"Going to hex me? My, my… what will the teachers say of this? McGonagall will be so shocked."

"She knows you've got it coming all along, you bloody bastard." Hermione's loathing of Malfoy crept into her voice little by little. "You've got five seconds to run. Five…"

"Me? Run?" Malfoy laughed. "As if I would ever run from a mudblood. Forget it, Granger."

"…Three, Two," Hermione smiled grimly. "One."

Hermione lifted her wand to cast a spell, but at that moment, an orange and black blur shot past her, knocking Malfoy to the ground and clamping its fangs on his left bicep. Or rather, one set of its fangs. Hermione watched in shock as Malfoy bellowed, "Dear God, Granger! How did you summon this… thing?" The thing was a three-headed snake with orange and black stripes, two meters long, and five inches thick. The left head had bitten Malfoy on the arm, the right one hissed at it impatiently, and the middle one was barely reacting at all.

"I… I didn't summon it!" Hermione protested.

"Then what is it and why is it biting me?" Malfoy yelled. Hermione studied it for a second, reviewing all the magical beasts she had read about.

"It's a runespoor, Malfoy. It's a three-headed snake from Africa and it's very dangerous!"

"I know the three-headed and dangerous part! What will it do?"

"Ermm… oh! Be careful of its right head! The fangs are especially poisonous on that head!" Malfoy grabbed its neck, attempting to wrench it off. The right head hissed and the left one unwillingly departed from his arm. Hermione began to breathe a sigh of relief, but the right head lunged forward and Malfoy lost his grip. Fortunately, it overestimated and hit the tree trunk behind him. "Come on!" said Hermione, grabbing Malfoy's arm and running as quickly as possible towards the castle. They were barely out of the fringes of the forest when he began to weaken. Hermione could hear the snake slithering through the grass behind them as Malfoy fell closer to unconsciousness.

Hermione whipped out her wand again and turned around to face the monster. "Stupefy!" she cried as the snake lunged up for the kill.

The runespoor was thrown backwards against the floor as Hermione tried to move Malfoy. He didn't budge. When she looked up, the snake had already gotten back on its stomach and was speeding towards them, an irritated glint in its yellow eyes. "Impedimenta!" she screamed, terror gripping her heart. The snake was thrown off for a moment, but it lunged forward again, catching Hermione in her right calf.

Before she blacked out, Hermione heard a sweet, familiar voice call out, "Incarcerous!" several times.

Harry, she thought happily. He's come to save me.

----x----

Disclaimer: (Sorry, I forgot to put this in the prologue.) Harry Potter and all of its counterparts belong to J.K. Rowling. I am simply using them for means of entertainment/mischief/living out my fantasies. I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I claim to. In other words, PLEASE DON'T SUE ME!!!