Author's Note: It feels very odd not to put an author's note at the top of the chapter, but today I'm mixing things up a bit and putting it at the bottom. What I have to say feels better at the bottom, so as not to taint your ideas of this chapter before it even begins. xxx*Anya*xxx
Chapter Seven
The Return of Old Friends
"Putting nine people in a very small house for extended periods of time is an extremely bad idea," was the first thing out of Ron's mouth when he returned from his holiday.
"I'll make a note of that," Hermione said dryly, holding her arms out to embrace her friend. "Happy New Year, by the way. Were your holidays that bad?"
"They couldn't have been worse than mine," Harry chimed in, approaching them and wrapping his arms around Hermione for a quick hug. She looked at her friend, concerned. Harry looked worn and weary, as if he'd gone through a great deal in a very short amount of time. She'd seen him worn out before; Harry had certainly gone through enough since Hermione had known him, but this was a different sort. It wasn't really physical, but rather more emotional, and she wondered what could have possibly happened.
"I'm sorry to hear that, guys," she said sympathetically, adding with a small smile, "I'm really glad to see you both."
Harry's face brightened a considerable amount, but he seemed to be at a loss for words because it was Ron who spoke. "We're glad to see you too, Hermione. Things haven't been quite the same without our know-it-all best friend around. How were your holidays?"
Hermione bit back a smile and felt a blush start to creep up her cheeks. "They were…not bad, actually. Really not bad."
The boys looked at her oddly, exchanging confused glances with each other. "Did anything interesting happen?" Ron pressed.
"Er…there was a ball," she said ineptly. "And I got loads of work done."
"Oh yeah, Cho's friend Erin sent her an owl telling her about the ball," Harry recalled. Hermione didn't miss the look of sorrow crossing his face at Cho's name, but she ignored it. There would be more time for talking later; Harry wasn't offering details on what was so bad about his holiday and Hermione didn't want to annoy him within five minutes of seeing him again.
"Erin Pallor?" she asked abruptly as they started walking up to Gryffindor tower.
"Yes, actually. I didn't know you knew her," Harry said, surprised. "She's a good friend of Cho's, but she's a seventh-year also, and a Ravenclaw…how do you know her?"
"Oh, we're not friends or anything…it's a rather funny story, she and I switched dates somewhere along the way at the ball," Hermione said awkwardly.
"Switched dates?" Harry asked brusquely. "But she told Cho she went with Malfoy!"
"Ew, Hermione," Ron groaned. "You went to the ball with Malfoy? But you hate him! And he's not exactly fond of you, either! How much had you been drinking?"
"I did not go to the ball with Malfoy, and I didn't drink anything," Hermione said harshly. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she said mentally.
"But you said—"
"Never mind what I said or didn't say," she snapped. "But I, for one, have some work left to do. I'll be in the library." With that, she turned on her heel and stormed up the stairs in a huff, completely embarrassed.
*~*~*~*
"Hullo Draco," a simpering voice said behind the exhausted blonde. "Did you miss me while I was in Majorca?"
Draco sighed internally. He'd been up almost all night finishing his Potions paper; he was in no mood to play games with Pansy Parkinson. "I take it you had a good holiday," he said sullenly without turning around.
He tensed as he felt heavily perfumed arms wrap around his shoulders. "It was alright, but it would have been better if you were with me," Pansy whispered in what she must have thought was a very sexy, sultry voice. "We would have had so much fun together."
He turned around slowly, knowing exactly what Pansy meant by 'fun'. 'Fun' was all they had when they were together. "Pansy, that's been finished for a long time. I really don't want to deal right now, if you'll be so kind as to leave me alone?"
She stepped back, a mixture of anger and hurt flashing across her face. "Well, fine!" she practically shouted, stomping up to her dormitory. "Have it your way! Just know this, Draco—I was the best you'll ever have!"
He rolled his eyes, making a very rude gesture in the direction of Pansy's dormitory. He ran his hands through his hair, making a mental note not only to badly maim her (the damn cock tease), but also Potty and the Weasel. He'd seen the beginnings of their glorious reunion with Hermione on his way to his own dormitory that morning; the three of them together made him sick. Screw Harry Potter and his pathetic excuse for a best friend. He wanted Hermione all to himself, and Draco was a person who was used to getting what he wanted.
In all honesty, he probably could have finished his Potions paper in half the time if he hadn't been thinking about her so much. The previous night was…incredible, at the least, and Draco was practically dripping with lust. Who gave a damn if she was a Mud—er, Muggle-born?
Well, so a lot of people did, at least the Slytherins. But pureblood, Mudblood, in the end they were all wizards, right? Right. He didn't care!
Well, so he cared once. But not anymore! Now all he saw was her radiant beauty, her unmatchable intellect, her ability to make anyone smile. She was his spring thaw.
Well, so they weren't technically together. At least, he didn't think so. He wanted them to be…but it would be hard. They could only see each other in secret, he knew that. No one could know. They weren't ready to handle an inter-house relationship, especially when they came from two houses with such, er, strong and extreme dynamics.
A thought sprang into his mind: star-crossed lovers. That's what they were. Just like Romeo and Juliet, from that Muggle book Hermione loved so much. He heard her sweet, melodic voice in his thoughts: Destined for a downfall but with the ability to change their world, she'd said. He didn't want a downfall, he thought bitterly. But he did want Hermione, and changing the world never hurt anyone.
Well, so it did. But Draco didn't care.
*~*~*~*
"Please tell me what that was all about," Harry begged when Hermione made her return to the Gryffindor common room several hours later.
"What was all about, Harry?" she asked innocently, setting her books down on a table and plopping into a squashy armchair next to her friend.
"You know," he said awkwardly, "Before. When you made some comment about going to the Christmas Ball with Malfoy and then more or less told me and Ron to sod off. Care to explain?"
"Not really," she said irritably, running tired hands through her wavy hair. "Because there's nothing to explain. You must have heard me wrong, I went with this Ravenclaw boy named Tom—who is now coincidentally dating Erin. That's what I meant to say."
"Okay," said Harry, although from the looks of things he didn't believe her one bit.
"You have a bit of explaining to do yourself, if I recall," Hermione said with sudden interest, leaning forward.
"I don't know what you mean," he said tautly, shifting his gaze to a speck of dust on the floor.
"Come on, Harry," she pleaded, looking at him with big eyes. He tensed; not only did he try to look everywhere but into those huge, chocolate eyes, but as it was still holiday she was wearing a crimson V-neck sweater that hinted at a little more than he was sure she'd intended. She never intended any of it. He knew he must be blushing because she looked at him quizzically and added, "We tell each other everything, don't we? You said your holidays were awful. Keeping it inside isn't going to help."
Harry knew she was right, and yet…
"Not yet," he said. "It's too soon. No one knows, except Cho."
Hermione sat back, biting her lower lip. "Alright," she sighed, "but promise me that when you're ready to talk, you'll come to me, okay?"
"Okay," he agreed, although he wasn't sure if he could keep that promise. He knew Hermione was hiding something as well, and suddenly he felt like he didn't know her too well anymore. It wasn't a good feeling.
*~*~*~*
"What are you going to do without all that free time you must have had?" Ron wondered on their way to the Great Hall (Harry was with Cho and had said he'd meet them down there).
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What free time, I spent most of it studying!"
He shook his head. "Typical Hermione," he said disapprovingly. "You've got to learn how to have some fun. I mean it. One day your head is going to realize it doesn't have enough space for all that knowledge you stuff into it and explode."
"Kind of like the way you are about food, eh?" she commented.
"Not fair!" Ron cried. "I'm a growing boy, I need my nourishment."
She rolled her eyes and walked a little faster. Sometimes she didn't know what to do with Ron. He was Harry's absolute best friend, and hers too, she supposed. He meant well, it was just…they didn't always get along so well. Not for lack of trying, obviously, they sometimes just seemed to butt heads.
"Ugh," he groaned suddenly. "There's one person I didn't miss. Quick, before he sees us!" He ran behind a pillar, pulling on the arm of Hermione's robes. She looked where Ron had been looking and saw none other than Draco (Or is he just Malfoy again now that everyone's back? She wondered), flanked once again by his faithful cronies Crabbe and Goyle.
"Honestly, Ron," she hissed, "Don't be ridiculous. I am not going to hide from Malfoy, he isn't going to actually hurt us!"
"You don't know that," Ron said warningly.
"Well, I'm not waiting," she said stubbornly, rolling her eyes again and taking off down the hallway. Her heart started pounding in her chest as they got closer to each other. What would he do? What would he say? Would this be the end of Draco-and-Hermione before they'd even gotten started?
"Granger," he said silkily, nodding in recognition as he approached her.
Well, I suppose that answers my question, she thought wryly.
"Malfoy," she said, nodding back to him.
"Hey," he said quickly, stopping before her. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him with expressions even more confused than the ones they normally wore. "What was the Potions homework?"
Caught off her guard at being approached by Draco in plain public view, she fought to hide a smile before answering, "An essay, two rolls of parchment minimum, on the uses of all the different types of nightshade."
"Thanks," he said with a half-smile. Hermione's smile escaped when she looked at his eyes; they seemed to promise that the winter holidays wouldn't end their meetings. As he left, Hermione's smile broadened when saw him smack Goyle upside the head and heard him snap, "What are you suggesting, half-wit? I couldn't very well have asked either of you two idiots!"
Cautiously, Ron came out from behind his pillar. "Was that Malfoy?" he asked tentatively, approaching Hermione.
"Yes," Hermione said dreamily, mentally whacking sense back into herself and asking suspiciously, "Why d'you ask?"
Ron shrugged; he looked completely befuddled. "He approached you, and you two almost got along. I think I'm going to have a stroke."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come on," she groaned. "It's not that big a deal, he's still…well, if we don't get going we're going to miss all the food."
Ron followed Hermione into the Great Hall, feeling as if there were a chunk of his best friend's life he was suddenly missing.
Author's Note: Okay, now it's time for my author's note, which is sort of to explain why I put in such an uneventful, rather boring chapter (well, it's boring in my mind). See, I felt like there needed to be an interlude to help the story move back into normal, non-holiday Hogwarts pace where Draco and Hermione were given a bit of time to adjust to not being able to see each other nearly any time they wanted. So I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, but I will completely understand if you decide to throw rocks at me instead. Adios!! xxx*Anya*xxx