Disclaimer: (I remembered to put this in! Wow… gee I'm on a roll…) Okay so the usual – I don't own the Harry Potter characters, they belong to Ms Rowling. So yeah, don't sue me. Coz I have no money anyway. And I know you don't too. Just kidding.
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 Thirteen: The Unexpected Invitation
Wipe the floors with fake type rappers, they aint moving the crowd
i showed you before, plus im proving it now (and smoothing it out)
I still bring the ruckus to this and while you home on the couch (i stay up in the mix)
you got a bad attitude, thats something to fix
--Bang This, J-Wess
A few more weeks passed by effortlessly for Hermione. Nothing exciting happened, nothing completely out of the blue happened, and that was exactly the way she wanted things to be. Predictable, and perhaps even a little bit boring. But still safe, nonetheless.
Hermione had visited Ron in the Hospital Wing occasionally, their chitchat idle and courteous, but still hardly affectionate, which was indeed to Hermione's liking also. His condition had improved somewhat, to a stable stage, but Madam Pomfrey insisted that Ron rest in the Hospital Wing for at least another week, until his recovery was absolute.
Hermione brought Ron his homework nearly every day, dutifully assisting in teaching him the work he needed to catch up on to maintain an at least average level of understanding in the class. This, as anticipated, was to Ron's fervent distaste, yet Hermione could not bear to see him fail his upcoming NEWT exams.
Though she would have never admitted it, there was another reason to Hermione's daily visits to the Hospital Wing. And deep down, she knew Ron was just her alibi to sate this reason.
Hermione was in actual fact very worried about Malfoy. She often saw him writhing and glowering in his sleep, and though his condition was rapidly improving, the elegant contours of his face were often mangled in intense fear and anger…
He never looked the part of an angel anymore.
Hermione shivered as she walked out of the Head common room bathroom, her damp hair swathed in a light blue towel and her creamy skin glistening with moisture. She took great luxury in bathing and dressing in her common room these days, as Malfoy was not around to make his rude and sudden appearances.
She sighed forlornly as she paced toward her room, bolting the door behind her with a well-chosen spell and letting her soft, moist tresses cascade gracefully down her back. Her eyes closed artlessly as she remembered how Malfoy liked her hair to be left down. If only he were here…
Hermione shook her head furiously out of the thought, observing with mild amusement as droplets flew wildly off her hair onto the furniture in her room.
Yet no matter how much she denied it, her growing feelings for the notoriously blonde-haired boy would just not leave her.
Even though he had been obnoxious and indifferent toward her the morning after the duel – despite indeed finding out that she had actually saved his bloody life – he had not at all altered his bigoted attitude toward her.
I guess some people just don't change, she sighed, clambering into her black robes and fastening the buttons with care.
Hermione tied her slightly damp hair in a loose ponytail, granted herself a quick mirror inspection, before walking out of the common room door.
She aimlessly glanced over her timetable and was irked to note that she had Advanced Potions first. Yet it appeased her slightly that it was a joint class with the sixth years, so she knew that for once, she wouldn't be the only Gryffindor in class.
Hermione turned a corner, the sweet aroma of freshly baked bread and muffins wafting toward her nose and making her stomach grumble vulgarly.
She entered the Great Hall with her head held high, hoping that the said stature would douse some of the snide and sarcastic comments now being frequently uttered to her by some of the stupidest, most uncouth students in the school.
Namely, Lavender and Parvati.
Hermione could identify with Lavender's animosity. The two had never been close friends, but the antagonism had most certainly intensified when Harry had entered the picture. Hermione had still not divulged the secret of Harry's affair to Ginny, though sometimes she wondered where exactly her true loyalties should indeed lie.
As for Parvati, that was a more obscure case. Parvati had always vexed Hermione deeply with her self-infatuation and patent vanity, but lately their rapport had reached the level of open hostility – something Hermione was certainly not grateful for.
"Hi," Ginny said somewhat placidly, as Hermione took a seat beside her.
Hermione smiled broadly at the red haired girl, hoping her façade of happiness would not be deciphered, but Ginny didn't grant her any further acknowledgement.
Ginny had indeed been acting distant lately, though Hermione simply put it down to frenzied worry about Ron and an excessive increase in workload. She knew sixth had been relatively difficult for her, too.
Hermione reached over for a peach and apricot muffin, closing her eyes as she devoured the wonderful smell of her breakfast.
"Normally one chooses to eat food, Hermione, rather than to smell it."
There was laughter at the Gryffindor table at Parvati's spiteful remark, a remark that Hermione did not deem even the slightest hilarious.
"Hermione," Ginny murmured, her eyes still fixed on the intricate pattern of a fruit bowl on the border of her plate. "Have you got any idea where Harry is?"
Hermione swallowed the morsel of food in her mouth rather quickly.
"Erm," she began, though she didn't need to respond.
"Honestly, Ginny, Harry doesn't need to be patrolled around all the bloody time by a freaking satellite like you," Lavender hissed, her index finger performing a circular motion and her head bobbing crazily from side to side.
Hermione felt her eyes narrow at the girl's flagrant disrespect.
"Don't talk to my friend like that, Lavender, 'cause maybe then I will do the talking for the both of us," Hermione said, her voice sarcastically sweet.
Lavender's eyes widened slightly and she coughed, looking away from the two girls across the table. Yet Parvati wasn't so dismissive.
"Are you threatening my best friend?" she whispered dangerously.
Hermione chortled.
"And do you really want that question to be answered?" she responded, her voice equally as hateful.
"Hermione, its okay, let's just go," Ginny muttered, pulling Hermione out of her seat and toward the exit of the Great Hall.
Hermione was only too happy to comply. No matter how much she wanted to pulverise the powdered, pretty face of Parvati Patil, she knew better than to endanger her Headship position, and especially for such trivial matters and for such trivial people.
Draco bolted up from the Hospital Wing bed, his body trembling and face covered in a moist film of sweat.
He had just had a bad dream. Again. It seemed like every time he laid his head down on the cushiony pillow of his infirmary bed, he was in turn subjecting himself to another night of pure angst and torture…
Draco wiped his forehead with his quivering hand, somewhat astonished by the presence of moisture on it.
His dream had been of the Dark Lord again… but this time they had not talked.
This time, Draco had been put under the Cruciatus Curse.
He whimpered faintly and shuffled around under the heavy sheets of his bed, trying to forget about the intense pain he had felt when put under the infamous curse. But the memory was hardly quick to abscond.
The pain had been so agonising. It had felt like the vessels of blood in his body were boiling with indomitable heat. It had felt like his brain was expanding hysterically against a constricted skull. It had felt like he would never emerge to see the light from the darkness ever again…
Draco turned over on his side, noting with some relief the absence of bandages on his limbs. The dearth most certainly granted him additional mobility, and he was more than appreciative for that fact.
He glanced out the window across from his bed, observing with scorn the blistering sun illuminating the lush Hogwarts Grounds below. A part of him still loathed the warming radiance of the light. The same part that still revelled in the cold of the darkness…
Draco smiled vaguely as he remembered that he would be leaving the Hospital Wing today. Leaving the nauseating smells of the exotic medicines and the smothering nature of the pure, white coloured bed spreads and blankets.
He sighed as he recollected his thoughts about the mission. He really had to get a move on; the Dark Lord had taught him a grave lesson about not following orders obediently.
And Draco never wanted to experience that particular lesson ever again.
As soon as the girls entered an empty corridor, Ginny burst into tears, a raucous sound that brought Hermione out of her sadistic thoughts.
"Gin, it's okay, what's wrong?" Hermione implored gently, watching as the red haired girl slid slowly down the wall and sobbed onto her bent knees.
The girl continued to cry, each sound cutting into Hermione's heart like a serrated knife.
"Is it Ron?" Hermione said, not wanting to risk spilling the beans on Harry to Ginny so soon.
Ginny shook her head slightly.
"Schoolwork? I'll help you with it if you like, sixth year is a tad hard," Hermione urged, squatting down beside Ginny's weeping figure and patting her back tenderly.
Ginny again shook her head and looked up at Hermione. She wiped the dark streams of wet mascara flowing down her cheeks with the sleeves of her robes and sniffed.
"Nah, I'm just worried about Harry," she whispered, looking down again at the floor.
Hermione sighed.
"He's just so… detached, from me," Ginny murmured, and Hermione wondered whether she was indeed talking to herself. "It's like he doesn't love-"
Hermione pulled Ginny's chin so that she was looking at her.
"Hey, it's gonna be alright, Gin," she whispered reassuringly, smiling at the trembling girl beside her.
Ginny nodded, as if trying to convince herself of the same sentiment, but she looked back at Hermione, her eyebrow raised slightly. Hermione felt her heart dip in foreboding.
"Hey 'Mione, do you know why Harry's acting so strange?"
Hermione winced at the abbreviation and looked away from the girl.
Tell her now, Hermione. See how upset she is? You gotta just be honest and get this all out in the open…
"Er," she began, her throat constricting the words from escaping her mouth. "No," she said finally, standing back up and dusting the invisible dirt off her robes.
Ginny nodded and straightened her legs out in front of her body. She pulled the frayed hem of her robes down neatly to her ankles, smoothing out the creases absent-mindedly with her hands.
"Come on, we better go to class," Hermione murmured ultimately, offering Ginny her hand.
Ginny smiled and accepted, standing up gawkily and wiping her cheeks once more.
"Eurgh, what a waste of make up," she laughed, and Hermione chuckled too, as both girls reluctantly made their way to their joint Advanced Potions class that morning.
Draco barely endured the Advanced Potions class.
The tedious droning of Professor Snape was not being absorbed by his mind. His undivided attention and thoughts were directed only at the brunette seated on the opposite side of the classroom…
Granger.
Her brown curls were tied up slackly, moist strands of hair escaping the green band and falling stylishly onto her slender neck. Draco had the deep urge to entwine the loose strands in his fingers, but he shook his head out of the emotion. Granger's body was leaned forward slightly in an almost vigilant stance, and this amused Draco greatly.
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his toned arms above his head and passed his hand through his limp hair. He was sitting next to Pansy Parkinson (against his will, of course) after she had showered him with admiration and compassion as he had made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast that morning.
Many people had asked Draco why he had indeed been in the infirmary all these weeks, and he was surprised at the inquiries. Surely Granger would have concocted some crackpot story by now as to why two archenemies were in the Hospital Wing at the same time?
It was almost as soon as the slander entered his mind that Draco cast it away angrily. Granger would never do something like that. She was pure and honest; hardly capable of fabricating wicked rumours to appease a hungry crowd.
Draco had not answered their questions, for he was not in a mood to handle a repeat of the entire ordeal in his mind. He did not want to be reminded of those chilling blades again…
He sighed and dipped his feather into the green inkpot on the upper right-hand corner of his piece of parchment. The ink was thin and of a brilliant jade colour. His favourite colour.
Draco submerged the quill in the inkpot again and again, swilling the point of the feather around the inside of the pot.
"Draco baby, what are you doing?" Pansy cooed in his ear, not even bothering to conceal her impatience.
Draco glared at the parchment in front of him, pulling his hand out of the girl's grasp and flexing his fingers with relief. She was really beginning to piss him off, at a time that necessitated his utmost concentration.
He was trying to think of ways to seduce Granger.
He had realised by now that the brunette would only respond to romantic, subtle gestures and not full-blown physical exchanges. And this in turn meant that he would have to be more compassionate and sensitive toward her. Draco grimaced at the mere thought.
"Professor Snape," came a deep, pleasant voice from the front of the room.
Draco hastily looked up from his parchment to note the owner of the voice. He fought to suppress the glare that was steadily spreading across his face.
"Headmaster," Professor Snape wheezed, the patience in his tone growing thin.
Dumbledore nodded and smiled at the students in the class. Draco felt that he was looking specifically at him, and he felt slightly disturbed at the notion.
"I'm sorry for the interruption, Severus," Dumbledore murmured, looking back at Professor Snape. "Yet this disturbance is more than necessitated for. I wish to borrow the Head Boy and Girl for a few moments if I may."
Professor Snape did not look as if he was going to agree.
"I suppose so," he spat, taking his seat behind his desk.
Dumbledore smiled and motioned for Draco to move from his seat. Draco felt his feet grow roots to the ground, but as he saw Granger pace toward the door, he glowered and followed suit, leaving his quill immersed jauntily in the slender, jade inkpot on his desk.
Hermione strode silently behind Dumbledore, her head bowed down low and her hands grasping the straps of her bags edgily. Malfoy was walking a few feet beside her, his gait brisk and somewhat overbearing. Hermione glared at the floor.
She did not know where they were going, but Dumbledore was one of the few people that she placed her complete faith in.
Hermione turned a corner, listening as their shoes were making a loud clattering sound against the tiled surface of the floor. Her own shoes were scuffed below the black leather layer, and they reminded her strongly of Ron's shoes. She sighed.
"I am dreadfully sorry that I had to disturb you two in the middle of an important lesson," Dumbledore said genially, opening the door to one of the nearby classrooms.
Hermione felt a lump in her throat so she merely nodded and took a seat at one of the desks in the front row of the classroom. Dumbledore sat behind the teacher's desk, fumbling to open a scroll of beige parchment and putting his pince-nez eyeglasses on. Hermione thought he played the part of a professor beautifully.
She saw out of the corner of her eye that Malfoy was about to take a seat three desks away from her. But as soon as he pulled out the chair, he hesitated for some reason before pushing the chair back in and moving to sit one desk apart from Hermione.
She felt her cheeks grow red against her resolution, and she looked over at Malfoy in confusion and he smiled graciously at her.
Oh my god... did he just 'smile' at me or is that his newfound way of frowning...?
"I just called this brief meeting because I am expected in Geneva for an important meeting of Wizardry tonight," Dumbledore murmured, eyeing the two students in front of him with interest. "I was just wondering whether the two of you have come up with any ideas to do with the ball we will have later this year."
Hermione felt her face go even redder. She had completely forgotten about the ball! What was she going to say to Dumbledore now?!
"Erm," she stuttered, before she felt a lump rise in her throat.
Malfoy coughed beside her.
"You see, Professor, the thing is," Malfoy continued, looking at Hermione with a raised eyebrow before fixing his gaze on Dumbledore, "I've been in the Hospital Wing for the past few weeks, so we both haven't had much time to discuss any of our plans, but as the ball is much later this year, I assure you that this inconvenience will not prove to be too critical."
Hermione's eyes widened.
Oh my God... did he just cover for me...?
"Well actually, Mr Malfoy, that was another point I wanted to pose today," Dumbledore said, taking his pince-nez glasses off and twirling them in his slender fingers. "I have decided to move the ball to a closer date, as to allow enough time to study for exams and NEWT tests and the like. I'm sure students would be more than distracted if the date of the ball clashed with the dates of annual exams, now wouldn't you agree?"
Hermione nodded.
"So then how long do we have to plan this ball?" she muttered, looking up into Dumbledore's eyes.
He smiled at her and the expression lifted her low spirits slightly.
"I want everything finalised within the next two months, and I hope that is not asking too much of you," he said, massaging the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
Hermione and Malfoy both shook their heads and Dumbledore grinned at them.
"Excellent," he exclaimed, looking over the piece of parchment again.
Hermione let out an inaudible sigh of relief, but Dumbledore hastily looked back up at the two students in front of him, and Hermione was astonished to see a hint of apprehension in his bright eyes.
"I have not told you the minor condition of the ball, as of yet, have I?" he muttered, leaning slightly forward in his chair. "It is my wish that, as a sign of house unity and tradition, that the Head Boy and Girl attend the ball… together. I hope there are no qualms regarding this?"
Hermione gasped and she heard Malfoy commit the same action beside her. Dumbledore seemed to notice this and he coughed to avoid possible dispute on the matter.
"Well that's settled then," he said quickly, rising from his chair and opening the door of the classroom.
He extended his arm to usher the two students out of the room.
"I suggest you trot back to class as quick as you can, even though there is only quarter of an hour left of your lesson and it would probably take that long to in actual fact reach the dungeons," Dumbledore stated, closing the door once Hermione and Malfoy had moved out. "Once again, I am sorry for disrupting your lecture."
And for the second time thus far, he left two shocked adolescents behind him as he quickly paced away from the situation.
Draco chanced a glance over at Granger and was amused to note that she had indeed been looking at him too. But as soon as their eyes locked gazes, Granger looked away shamefacedly. Draco smiled at her discomfiture.
"I guess we better go back to class then," he said, and he was somewhat surprised to acknowledge that he didn't have to force a tone of pleasantness in his voice.
It all came naturally.
"Yeah, I think so too," Granger muttered, her eyes still fixed on the floor.
Draco nodded and lead the way back to class, walking a few feet away from the girl but careful to assume the same speed as her.
The silence was awkward, but Draco found that he had about a million things he wanted to say to her – in order to complete the mission, of course – but he found Granger almost intimidating.
Like she was too good for him.
He scowled at the ironical thought and unconsciously quickened his pace but soon slowed down enough to allow Granger to catch up with him.
Draco looked over at her and was surprised to see that she was resolutely staring at the floor. She really was ill at ease.
This is the your chance to initiate the mission Draco... you just got to go for it...
They continued to walk in a silence that was hardly companionable until Draco heard a small crashing sound from beside him. He quickly looked over to see that Granger's bag had split open and her books and parchment were drenched in deep purple ink.
Without further contemplation, Draco bent down to help the distressed girl, drying her books and repairing her bag with his wand. As they both reached for the same scroll of parchment, their hands came into contact with one another and Draco felt a faint ray of electricity pass through his arm and he quickly withdrew his hand.
Once everything had been neatly packed away, Granger swung the bag over her back yet again.
"Thanks," she muttered, the focus of her gaze still being the tiled floor beneath their feet.
Draco smiled again at her embarrassment.
They walked once more in stillness, until Draco knew he had to break the ice.
"Hey Granger," Draco said tentatively. "I never did get to thank you for saving my life that night, did I?"
Granger looked up at him hastily and smiled. Draco felt his stomach squirm.
Wow... she sure is a real knockout when she smiles...
"Does that mean you're thanking me now?" she said, raising her eyebrow up at him.
He couldn't help but laugh.
"Yeah, I suppose so," Draco yielded, shrugging his shoulders.
Granger shook her head in mirth and looked back down at the floor, but Draco was pleased to see that she at least had a smile on her face now and her stature was somewhat less stiff.
And Draco had the strange inclination to make her smile again.
"You know Granger-"
"We're probably only-"
The two laughed as they realised they had spoken at the same time. Draco was astounded as he felt as though he could talk to this girl perpetually for the rest of his life but at the same time she daunted him so much.
"You go first," Granger said sheepishly, looking back down at the floor.
Draco felt his heart dip in shame.
"You know, I would ideally say 'ladies first', but I see no ladies around here," he smirked, trying to lighten the mood.
Granger narrowed her eyes at him and punched him lightly on his arm. Draco recoiled as he felt faint electricity ripple through his body again and he widened his eyes at her.
Why am I feeling this way around you...
"I'm sorry," she whispered, moving away from the boy and quickening her pace.
Draco felt a sudden urge to pull her back and he did just that.
She looked at her slender limb in his hand with fused eyebrows before looking up at him. Her skin was so creamy and soft, like velvet. Draco could not help but caress it lightly with his thumb. He desperately wanted to undo the band in her hair, but resisted the temptation.
Granger was shorter than him, and he felt a strange sentiment against tainting her purity. Their faces were about two inches away from each other and Draco could clearly see the fear embedded in the depths of those otherwise warm, brown eyes…
He let go of her arm, but she stood her ground nevertheless.
"Listen, Granger," Draco began, but he felt a lump amounting in his throat.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly and watched with amazement as Granger's eyes closed and she sighed, before opening her eyes again. And Draco was relieved to see that there was no fear those orbs anymore.
"Even after you saved my life and everything, I acted like a complete jerk to you," Draco muttered, hating the feeling of exposing his emotions to the girl beside him. "And… really, I just want to get to know you better. We're Head Boy and Girl now, and Dumbledore's right – we have to show everyone the importance of unity…"
Draco was staggered at the spontaneous nature that all his words seemed to possess… as though, by some bizarre twist of fate, he actually believed what he was saying…
He shook his head slightly, gathering his thoughts into some sort of distinguishable order, before continuing.
"Well what I'm trying to say is…" Draco resumed, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and hoping a cold breeze would sweep over to cool his flushed cheeks, "I'd really like us to be… friends. Is that okay with you?"
Granger finally looked away from Draco and she retreated slowly, until they were at a comfortable distance.
"But… but you hate me," she stuttered, eyeing Draco with apprehension.
He winced at the strong sentiment implied by the girl.
No Granger… I don't hate you… I never have… in fact, I think that 'maybe'… I might really…
"I – don't," Draco said bluntly.
He watched with concealed horror as the brunette looked as though she were about to slap him any second. He hated himself for being the reason to account for Granger getting so upset.
"Don't… don't lie," Granger gasped, wiping her moist lips with the sleeve of her robes.
Draco cringed again.
"Don't you think this is hard enough for me?" he snapped, but he immediately regretted his words as he saw Granger's eyes widen in shock. "Look, I know I've been bit of a loser to you alright? And I'm – genuinely – sorry for that. I just want to be friends."
Granger shook her head, as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"What about your fucking phobia of Mudbloods like me?" she taunted, and Draco grimaced again.
"Look, you're not like that okay? You're not a Mudblood," he said, hoping the girl wouldn't realise that he was in fact lying.
But is it all just a lie? Do I really think of her as... a pathetic 'Mudblood', per se?
Granger laughed mirthlessly and Draco was frightened as the callous noise filtered through his body, chilling his very bones…
"I don't believe you," she scorned. "Why the change of heart so suddenly?"
Draco was amazed at how strong this girl seemed to be, despite all the juvenile embarrassment earlier on.
Normally, girls would swoon if Draco had been so tender in offering them friendship like that. They would probably (Draco smirked) even think that they meant something more to him, if he asked for friendship first rather than sex.
"Look I can't force you into accepting this friendship," Draco mused, deciding on a change of tack. "Friendship shouldn't be forced, it should transpire naturally. So if you really want to be my friend, then you'll meet me at the Astronomy Tower tomorrow evening at seven."
And with that, he turned around sharply and walked off, wondering whether or not he had indeed done the right thing.
Hermione took the encumbering bag off her bag and placed it gingerly on the floor before kicking it in exasperation to the other side of the corridor she was in.
She was so pissed off at herself for succumbing to Malfoy like that earlier. Why had she laughed with him, why had she thanked him for helping her pack her bag away – why had she believed, if only for a second, that this was how things were meant to be?
Hermione sat down on the cool floor, her hands rubbing the irregular contours of the tiles on which she was sitting. They were deep black in colour, with veins of white and grey rock running through them, and Hermione admired the blatant disparity of colour.
It reminded her of Malfoy and herself… Slytherin and Gryffindor… Pureblood and Mudblood…
She sighed sadly and pulled the band out of her hair, hoping the action would alleviate her headache. She separated the curls with some effort, methodically detangling the adamant knots before resigning from the obviously futile attempt.
Hermione simply couldn't believe that Malfoy wanted to be her friend, after all the discrimination and squabbles they had contended with over the years.
She still remembered how painful the experience of having her teeth enlarged had been. As soon as she had seen that jet of bright orange light speeding toward her that day before Potions, she knew that the curse was not going to be pleasant…
Especially as it had been uttered by none other than her arch nemesis, Draco Malfoy.
Hermione unconsciously passed a hand over her lips, massaging the skin gently and closed her eyes.
How could she ever forgive that boy for pulling a stunt like that? How could she ever forgive the boy who caused her so much emotional torment? How could she forgive the boy that had hurt her best friends relentlessly?
How could a prejudiced Pureblood and a manifested Mudblood ever be friends?
Hermione smoothed the wrinkles of her robes out delicately, enjoying the feeling of the smooth fabric on her fingers.
But when Malfoy had said that he wanted them to be friends… there was such sincerity in his silver-blue eyes… for the first time, they seemed unmasked and stunning…
And she loved the feeling of her arm in his hand… their body parts seemed to fit together flawlessly like a jigsaw puzzle. And his grasp was so firm and strong… it made Hermione feel secure but at the same time, abashed.
But friendship? Was such a thing possible? Maybe Malfoy only wanted to bed her just to prove something to those merciless Slytherin friends of his. Just to cross Hermione off his infamous list.
But if that was what he had truly wanted – then why had he asked for friendship? Surely he would have just tried to rape her, like the scoundrel that he was?
Hermione shivered as the thought entered her mind but she discarded it. Malfoy wasn't that bad. No one who so closely resembled an angel could ever be that bad.
She smiled grimly as the folly of the thought was registered in her mind, and she rubbed her temples. She hadn't decided whether she would indeed go to the Astronomy Tower tomorrow evening. What were to happen if it turned out to be an ambush of Slytherins?
I'll have my wand, though, and granted, I know I 'am' a better spell caster than Malfoy, she mused smugly.
Hermione stood up and swung her bag over her back and checked her watch. Class would have been over five minutes ago. But no one had come by-
"Hermione!"
Hermione closed her eyes in annoyance at the voice before turning around to look at the person who had called her name.
"Glad to hear that you've finally reverted to calling me 'Hermione'," she hissed, eyeing the handsome black-haired boy in front of her with irritation.
Harry looked down at his leather shoes and Hermione felt a pang of sadness at his gesture of submission. She hadn't really meant to be so harsh; but she was still rather angry at Harry for his cheating ways.
"Walk with me?" Harry asked tentatively, but he didn't wait for Hermione to answer as he tugged her arm and they began to move toward the Great Hall.
"How did you know I was here?" Hermione asked, hoping to stray the subject away from where she knew it was heading.
Harry sighed desolately but looked at Hermione with a fake smile on his face. He tilted his head slightly at her and she thought he looked absolutely adorable. It made her feel slightly more in the mood for forgiving.
"I always know where my best friends are," he murmured, and Hermione could not help but laugh at the possessive nature of her friend's words.
She shook her head in mirth and they continued walking, but the direction of their gait was now not heading toward the Great Hall. Hermione fused her eyebrows together.
"Harry, it's lunch now," she urged. "Shouldn't we be at the Great Hall?"
The boy beside her winced before plastering the same fake smile on his face once more. Hermione faintly remembered the route they were taking, but the destination was just not coming to her mind.
"Erm, I eat in the kitchens these days," he muttered, looking away from Hermione and steering her again along the same course.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Harry, you can't keep avoiding Ginny forever," she said, trying to keep her voice even.
Harry shook his head.
"It's not only her I'm avoiding, it's Lavender too," he said matter-of-factly, his pace quickening slightly.
Hermione felt confusion sweep over her. Why would Harry want to avoid the so-called 'love of his life'?
"That doesn't make sense, Harry," she urged.
Harry stopped in his stride and faced Hermione. He was only about an inch or two taller than Hermione, but she still perceived him as an equal.
"Ginny has been really sad that you're not talking to her anymore, Harry," Hermione continued, trying to fill the awkward silence that was present.
Harry looked down and his shoulders drooped slightly.
"I don't mean to make her upset," he finally squeaked.
Hermione nodded her understanding, though she was in truth far from understanding of the situation.
"Of course you don't," she said briskly, patting her friend lightly on the back.
The boy cringed at the touch for some reason and Hermione withdrew immediately. The last thing she wanted to contend with was another reason to be pissed off about.
"Hermione, Lavender forced me," he mumbled, looking up into the girl's eyes.
Hermione couldn't comprehend what Harry was saying. Who ever heard of a girl forcing a boy to do things that they didn't want to?
"What do you mean?" she said.
Harry massaged his temples with the palms of his hands and Hermione had to admit that her patience was wearing thin, and so was her rumbling stomach.
"I didn't want to cheat on Ginny, but Lavender she's… she's provocative, Hermione," Harry said, shaking his hand up and down to search for a suitable word. "When we came to Hogwarts she – she kissed me. And I don't know why, but I kissed her back. And then when I realised what I had done, I felt like shit. But you gotta believe me 'Mione, it wasn't my fault."
Hermione sighed exasperatedly but she did not want to stir up another conflict, so she nodded and linked her arms with Harry's once again and they paced toward the portrait of the fruit bowl to eat some well-deserved lunch.
A/N: Yo watup. Alright last chapter – sorry if that was a load of shit. Was it angsty? Angst is one of my favourite genres so I'm sorry if I got a bit too carried away there. Hope this chapter sates your flavour more.
Thank you for the kind reviews!
I'm so happy to see that my reviewers are smart people and I am amused by your ahem theories. And that's all I'm gonna say ;-).
Those people who are waiting for Draco and Hermione to get together – boy, you're in for a treat next chapter! So promise me you'll keep reading. PROMISE! breathes lol just kidding, you can stop if you want to doesn't bother me as long as you're happy :-)
I actually prefer to read more Hermione and Draco angst before they finally fall in love, not a HUGE fan of over-fluffing if that's a word, but I don't hate it either, but I'm sorry if things are moving fast now between them. Are they moving fast? Please be nice and tell me in your reviews if I'm going too fast with Draco already inviting Hermione on a date (okay okay, he just wants to be 'friends' glares icily at Draco ) lol.
Anyways this A/N is boring I know I know so Imma shut my mouth now. And can I just finish by saying…
I LOVE TOM FELTON!
Thank you, thank you and until next time – review!