Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but I do own a pair of dangly earrings.
Title of Story: When Darkness Catches the Light
Summary: Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione
Rated: PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.
Chapter Five: A Relentless Fear
A hundred days have made me older
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face
A thousand lies have made me colder
And I don't think I can look at this the same
--Here Without You, Three Doors Down
"What the-"Hermione's voice was silenced by a kiss.
She knew those tender lips well. The person was none other than-
"Ron!" she spluttered, once he had released her. She cast the Lumos spell, effectively illuminating the closet.
Ron was smiling broadly, and his freckles seemed to be dancing. This elicited a grin from Hermione.
"I couldn't bare to be away from you, my dear," Ron said, stroking her cheek.
Her eyes closed against her will. There was just something about Ron's soft caress that always calmed her. She felt her breath hitch and her heart began pounding lightly against her chest.
"It was... just... a few minutes..." she managed to gasp.
Her abysmal effort to speak made Ron smile wider, if it were possible. He leaned in close to her ear.
"A few minutes too long," he whispered seductively.
Hermione's heart was now relentlessly pounding. Ron had definitely changed over the holidays. Definitely...
He extended a pale finger and ran it down Hermione's neck. Hermione just loved his gentle touch... she just loved his warmth spreading over her... she just loved him...
Her eyes closed artlessly. Ron's finger reached Hermione's robes and found its way to begin undoing her top button. The skin on Hermione that he touched began prickling uncomfortably.
This somehow jolted Hermione to her senses. She placed her hand on his.
"Ron..." she sighed, pushing his hand away.
Ron took back his finger hastily, and turned away from Hermione. He seemed hurt. Hermione felt a rush of regret.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron muttered. "I didn't mean to..."
Hermione cupped his chin in her hand and directed his gaze back onto her. His eyes seemed slightly indignant, but there was no way he could ever disguise their profound warmth...
Hermione smiled at him. "Shh. I should be the one apologising-"
Ron raised his eyebrow a little. "What do you mean, Hermione?"
Hermione turned away from him. You have to tell him now, Hermione, a voice was telling her. Tell him you don't love him right now, before he gets even more hurt later on... a lie that draws a smile is worse than the truth that draws a tear...
"Hermione?" Ron urged. "Why are you saying sorry?"
Hermione looked back at him. She could see that Ron was worried about her; it was evident in his eyes. He just loved her so much. Hermione felt tears come to her eyes, but she stubbornly held them back. You have to tell him... now...
"Oh... well, I guess just because I had to leave you in the train, that's all," Hermione muttered, forcing a smile on her face.
Ron appeared relieved, and he even laughed. "Hermione, you know that's not your fault... gosh I can't believe I'm dating the Head Girl... I just hope you won't punish me if I'm... naughty..." he ended, a mock pout spreading over his face.
Hermione laughed and jabbed her finger into Ron's chest. "You better watch out, mister... I can do much, much more than just take house points from Gryffindor, you know..."
Ron lunged forward at that moment to kiss Hermione. Her eyes closed immediately. She felt that familiar feeling of warmth sweep over her yet again. She ran her hand through Ron's closely cropped hair. Their tongues were intertwined, their tastes mingled...
Hermione smiled into the kiss. Ron again started to undo her top button. The same prickling feeling came over Hermione's skin, but this time it was more amplified.
Hermione withdrew, re-buttoned her robes, unconsciously rubbing the skin on her chest that had prickled, and glanced at her watch. She hastily thought of a reason for her retraction.
"Um, Ron... geez, the feast is nearly finished! What the hell is everyone going to think when Dumbledore announces I'm Head Girl and... they see that I'm not even there?"
Ron raised his eyebrows at her questioningly. Hermione knew her reasoning was not plausible.
"Hermione," Ron muttered, his eyes boring into her own," you know as well as I do that they announce the Head Boy and Head Girl two weeks after the year starts, just so they can see whether you guys are good at your jobs or not... Hey, that gives me an idea..." a smirk spread across Ron's face.
"Ron, what is your, er, idea...?" Hermione inquired tentatively.
Ron grinned sheepishly. "I think I have a way to get Malfoy... deprived... of his Headship..."
This had surprisingly caused Hermione much anger. True, a part of her had wished Malfoy wasn't going to be Head Boy... but another part was looking forward to spending time with him... the latter was an astoundingly bigger part...
Hermione was infuriated that Ron would even contemplate placing Malfoy's leadership position in jeopardy. Omit the fact that he's a Malfoy, Ron shouldn't be doing that sort of thing to anyone! Hermione thought exasperatedly. She felt the same anger, the same hatred that had welled inside her as before...
Ron's eyes widened. "What the hell...?"
Hermione snapped her attention back to Ron and was astonished to see that he had fear evidently plastered on his face. The same sort of expression that Malfoy had had on his face...
Hermione was mystified. Why were they suddenly scared of her?
"What's wrong, Ron?" she inquired, forcing a manner of casualness in her voice.
Ron shook his head, a little too vigorously, and muttered, "You're right, we better go back to the feast..." and exited the broom closet, leaving a bewildered Hermione behind him.
Hermione left the broom closet, nearly tripping over her robes. She was not looking where she was going, as tears began welling up in her eyes.
She had been so looking forward to her last year at Hogwarts. The prospects of exhilarating and interesting academic challenges in the seventh and last year had forever kept her engrossed and focussed in her schoolwork the past six years.
First, she had found out she was Head Girl. That was what Hermione had been striving for, all these years, for her name to be engraved on the school board, for her name to remain at the school perpetually. She felt she had so much to offer Hogwarts, that when she left, her name would always be on people's lips when they reminisced of the fun gatherings that the Heads had organised. Funny thing though, Hermione wasn't delighted at her Headship.
Then, she had discovered that the position of Head Boy had been awarded to none other than Draco Malfoy – her ach-nemesis for as long as she could remember. He had done so many horrible things to her, had branded her an impure Mudblood unworthy of attention or admiration. So why did Hermione suddenly have feelings for him? And was it a real feeling or just childish infatuation?
And then came Ron, this perfectly sweet guy, the guy who she had trusted and respected for so long, who had suddenly confessed his feelings for her, the uninteresting nerd of the school. She should feel happy, even privileged at Ron's love for her... but she didn't feel like that at all.
She just wasn't happy today, even though she had plenty of reasons to justify happiness.
But everything had just seemed to go so wrong.
Hermione sighed and started walking toward the Head common room, unable to decide whether she was hoping Draco wouldn't be there... or in fact, whether he would be.
Hermione had just reached the entrance to the Head common room. It was a portrait, divided conspicuously into four sections. Each section housed one of the four founders of Hogwarts.
Godric Gryffindor was shown with a small smile and he was carrying a shield. His red background was illuminated.
Salazar Slytherin was shown with a cunning smirk, a serpent curled around his neck. His green background was also illuminated, when in contrast to the grinning portraits of Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff. The people in the portraits were not moving.
"Password?" a voice came from somewhere.
Hermione felt slightly uneasy at the hidden voice.
"Um... Veritaserum," she spoke timidly.
The portrait door swung open, much to Hermione's fright. She stepped inside.
The common room was like a larger replica of the Head train compartment. The walls were still a regal purple colour, the carpet was a darker shade of off-white and the fire was roaring. Upon the mantelpiece of the fire there was a plaque, displaying Hermione and Malfoy's names against red, yellow, green and grey backgrounds. Hermione spotted two doors at opposite ends of the large room, one displaying the Gryffindor lion and the other one displaying the characteristic Slytherin serpent.
She trembled, despite the fire's warmth. She really was the Head Girl. And she really wasn't going to sleep in the girl's dormitory up in Gryffindor Tower anymore. This was it.
Hermione opened the door of her room. She found that her luggage was already there. Her room was a soft pink colour, a nice complement to the white carpet and gold sheets. She smiled as she saw the headboard of her bed engraved elegantly with her own name, "Hermione Granger".
Hermione Granger. That's who she was. The smart Mudblood who was not going to tolerate any shit from Malfoy this year. Hermione smiled faintly.
Just then, she heard a melodious whistling coming from behind her. It sounded much like a cheerful bird, but it was coming from the Head common room. Hermione frowned perplexedly, and walked back into the common room, eager to investigate what was making the noise.
I should have guessed, Hermione rolled her eyes.
Draco hastily clambered out of the train compartment; he was that keen to get away from Granger. He smoothed his hand over his hair as he searched through the crowd for his Slytherin cronies. He needed some distraction from the fear that was welling up inside him.
And yet... fear of what exactly? Granger? But why should he, a privileged pureblood, harbour any feelings of fear for a stupid Mudblood?
Because she isn't stupid, a voice in Malfoy's head answered. And because of those damn eyes...
Draco shuddered against his resolve, desperately trying to make the haunting image in his brain disappear.
But horrific memories are never quick to leave a person's mind.
Draco had got satisfaction from taunting Hermione. From calling her a Mudblood. He smiled grimly. Yet the satisfaction was momentary. When he had seen those brown orbs filled with that fire... that distinct electric blue fire...
Draco trembled again. He had been scared out of his wits; he had just felt so numb and cold. He felt like all the happiness in his life had been sucked out of him. Granger was like a damn Dementor! Only she was better eye candy...
Draco stopped in his stride. Why the hell was he thinking of her like that?! Stupid mind, he cursed. Granger wasn't even beautiful. She wasn't. She was not.
Draco shook his head. He needed to skip the feast; he needed to get settled into the common room before Granger came. He dared not display his intense trepidation to the others. Especially to Granger herself.
Draco sneaked into the castle. The best thing about being a Head is you don't have to worry about your luggage, he thought. Everything gets back to you in the end, somehow.
Draco wiped the moisture on his forehead, before ambling casually to the common room. Maybe I'll take a shower to calm myself, he thought.
When he reached the portrait at the entrance of the common room, he saluted Salazar Slytherin's picture, before uttering, "Veritaserum," with a smirk on his face.
He knew Granger had just loved it when he told her the password. Sometimes even he was taken away by his own genius.
"What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione said sharply, finding Malfoy hunched over the table in the common room.
She was staggered at seeing Malfoy without any gel in his hair. He looked so much more... human. His damp hair was parted in the centre and reached his ears in a stylish undercut. His mouth was stretched in an impassive line. His grey-blue eyes were glistening blankly. Hermione felt herself redden, realising the idiocy of her question. Malfoy seemed to acknowledge her embarrassment, as he nodded curtly at her, and resumed his hunch over the table. He didn't even make a move to insult me, Hermione thought.
"Sorry," she muttered, slowly moving over to look at what Malfoy was doing.
Malfoy looked back at her, his eyes now filled with spite. He seemed to be daring her to come closer to him... and if she were to accept the dare, he looked as if he would hex her into oblivion...
Hermione stopped in her stride, and looked away from Malfoy's penetrating glare. The last thing she wanted was to disappear in those beautiful spheres...
"I suppose you found the room, then," Malfoy murmured coldly, turning his back to Hermione.
Hermione nodded, realising full well that Malfoy couldn't even see her. She felt a lump in her throat that had stopped her from speaking. But she didn't want Malfoy to sense her frailty.
"It wasn't too hard," Hermione said simply. "Even for a pathetic Mudblood like me."
Malfoy dropped the pen in his hand and Hermione heard it clatter on the wooden table. Hermione turned around and thought Malfoy was going to yell at her, but she was surprised to hear him laugh. She raised her eyebrows. Was Malfoy actually amused at her joke?
She saw Malfoy shake his head and pick up his pen again and continue writing. Hermione desperately wanted to see the expression on his face.
She strode over to the fire and hovered her hands above it. The heat spread through her body and she sighed quietly. She stared into the flames. They licked the hearth and sides of the fireplace intensely. The fire seemed to calm Hermione, rather than stir her up. It always had that effect on her.
"You know, I still can't believe they chose you for Head Girl," Malfoy mumbled matter-of-factly.
The lack of sourness surprised Hermione, but his words cut deep into her heart. Purebloods like Malfoy would never appreciate the intelligence of muggle-born witches and wizards. Hermione knew that answering him would be futile, but that he would also see it as her weakness.
"And why the hell can't you believe it?" Hermione replied coolly, turning to glare at Malfoy.
He was staring at her, his eyebrow raised.
"I would have thought the answer would be quite evident," Malfoy responded plainly. "Because you are a stupid muggle, and therefore inferior to me and therefore an inadequate choice for Head Girl."
Hermione noted his substitution of 'muggle' for 'Mudblood'. Yet it did not appease her even the slightest.
"Oh, just grow up, for heaven's sake," Hermione snapped, her eyes beginning to tingle with moisture. "You know Malfoy, I was actually looking forward to my last year at Hogwarts, but I know the year will be useless with you being the Head Boy and all. If you can't stand me that much, why the hell don't you just hand in your resignation right now and do us both a favour?"
And with tears in her eyes, Hermione bolted out of the common room, heading for the library.
Draco became mesmerised by the fire. It looked so dominant and unyielding, qualities he had always admired. And it also gave him a chance to shift his thoughts away from Granger.
That wretched Mudblood, he spat. What the hell is she playing at, telling me to hand in my resignation?
Draco kicked the purple wall, not caring for the accumulating pain in his foot. He ran his hands through his silver locks. He tried to imagine his father's reaction if he were to find out that Granger was Head Girl.
He'd probably chuck a fit, Draco smirked. That, and try to bribe the school governors into granting the position to Parkinson or some other Slytherin chick...
Nevertheless, Draco did not want Parkinson to be Head Girl. He'd had enough of her clinging and whining. And the shagging was getting monotonous. No, he wanted new blood to suck, new bruises to make. New territories to mark.
Yet Granger was too low for him to stoop. True, she would be a great triumph, soiling the last standing purity in the year and all. But she was a Mudblood, and there were certain lines that one should not cross with them. They were beasts of burden, unworthy of attendance at wizarding schools. They would never truly understand the wizarding way.
Draco sighed as he glanced over at the letter he was replying to on the desk. He was not looking forward to the rendezvous tomorrow. He willed himself not to think of the prospects of a new mission.
And he had an innate, strange feeling about his mission this time around.
A/N: Yo everyone how's it going? I hope you liked that chapter. You know, I'm not entirely sure whether the rating on this story is appropriate, can someone please tell me in their review if they think PG-13 is okay because I live in Australia and we don't have PG-13 here, we have other ratings and I would probably rate this fic M-15 in Australia. So anyways, I hope you liked that, the next chapter will include some plot (I suppose you might've guessed a bit of the plot from this chapter, even though I didn't think I left too many hints) with hopefully an appearance from Ginny Weasley if I can fit it in (which I probably will). And I also started Malfoy's POV (yay!) here so please also tell me what you think of that. Thanks for reading, ta-ta oh and please review!