Official Information

Title: The Extreme

Author: Enchanted Ink

Disclaimer: Harry Potter indica is the property of J. K. Rowling and the Warner Bros. Association; NOT ME :(

Summary: H. A. Granger is in love- with the youngest male Weasley. There is one problem. Ron is no longer an innocent, awkward boy, and she has come to the conclusion that he is after another girl... Her enemy is a master in the art of relationships, and she will do anything for his council.

Rating: PG-13 for possible:

-Language

-Sexual Content

-Violence

-Drugs &/or Alcohol

Extra Info.: Words in italic indicate thought or emphasis on the given term.

A/N: I AM SO SORRY! I would've updated a million days sooner, but I was, and still am, grounded. I was at my grandparents, however, who have a computer, and I was able to write the next chapter, although a little hurriedly. I'm sorry if it shows in my writing, and I'll try to update again soon.

Thank you to:

-lucyferina: Lol, I am aware of the fact that most people refer to Draco's eye color as blue/gray. However, the current visual I have of Draco Malfoy is Tom Felton, and he appears to have brown eyes... Plus, I'm a sucker for that combination!

-HYPERdingdong39: Is that a cliffhanger? Wow, I didn't realize... Thanks for your review.

-HPROXMYSOX: Oh I know! Tom is... Well, what I'm thinking isn't appropriate to describe in a review response, but thank you!

-PsYcHoJo: I agree with the whole prick thing... And I don't particularly like Hermione/Ron, so I think that might say something about the future of this fic. I'm glad you reviewed!

-XxXHermione-GrangerXxX: Thanks! I'm ecstatic that your ecstatic!

-PureSunshine: Um... Lol... I love an ear-piercing on a male... Just one... In one ear... A crystal/diamond... Grins Weakly And I can see Tom Felton with one, easily. It could be like him to have that, though, because usually you think of a bad guy. Well, not bad, but... ANYWAY, thanks for your review!

-Lover del Dragon: I know :D. I'll try not to get grounded so I can update soon, lol!

-H.P.Catlover: I'll continue... Lol, I'm not quite sure where the story is going to go. But the updates will hopefully keep rolling in! Thanks.

-Vianne: Yay! Thanks so much :)

-Celebrean: I'm on your Favorite List? Sobs I'm actually proud. Thanks...

-thoroughbredchickie: I appreciate your honesty. It means that you are used to the characters J. K. Rowling invented, and that's very flattering to an author. However, aspects like Ron dancing erotically with a girl, and Hermione having a love handle (which doesn't mean she's fat, because technically, I have five and I refer to myself as big-boned ;) are things that make the short story I've created original. As for this chapter... I'm sorry in advance if this chapter makes you uncomfortable, because it might. Thank you, though, I'm really glad that you shared your genuine opinion with me.

-Lilykins: I hope it works out for you, and thanks a million!

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3

Hermione lowered herself onto a Divination cushion, filled with silent gratitude for the brief distraction it provided. Glancing up, Malfoy appeared almost anxious to begin. He would, after all, have the opportunity to be bossy, and give snide 'constructive criticism', and she supposed it was this lure that made his expression so excited.

"There are several steps that make the development of a relationship successful. Do you know what the first step is?"

Wow. He sounds... SMART, as if he knows what he's talking about. And his voice. It's proper. I guess he's taking this teaching scenario seriously. She decided to be mature and mannerly, as he was being. She was doing this for the love of her life, right? With this goal in mind, she took a stab at the question. "Communication?"

"That's partially correct." Usually, Hermione would be stunned to realize her answer was wrong. Instead, she was proud, proud to prove to Malfoy she knew a thing, or maybe two, about their current topic. "There are two types of communication: verbal, and physical." This blunt statement made Hermione's body stiffen. It was suggestive, and by the small smirk at the corner of his mouth, he knew it.

"Now, do you what is most important in your situation?"

Hermione shook her head. She didn't want to embarrass herself. Ron is wrapped around the manicured finger of that wench, so obviously he's more into physical stages right now. If I were to tell Malfoy I want to learn about that type of communication right now, he would assume... That I'm some sort of eager girl ready to jump his bones.

"Being physical. You can guess why, of course?" he asked. Hermione nodded. For some odd reason, she didn't quite trust her voice. "However, being verbal isn't that far behind. Weasley assumes that you are... Well, a nerd. That's the only side of you he's seen. You need to prove to him that you can be what he wants. Because of this, you're going to learn these trades hand in hand. One doesn't come before the other. What is Ron's biggest hobby?"

"Quidditch," she blurted. It was the most obvious question Malfoy could've asked. The Chudley Canons were his life, and all you had to do was set foot in his bedroom once to learn this bit of trivia. She remembered an orange Chudley Canons hat Harry had gotten Ron for Christmas one year, and how it had clashed terribly with his flaming locks. Hermione smiled slightly at the memory, because she had found his fondness of it cute.

Draco cleared his throat. "What do you know about Quidditch?"

Hermione almost blushed. "Um... Well, n-nothing." She hated herself for stuttering, letting him feel so influential.

"You were involved with Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker, and yet you know nothing of the sport?" Now she was sure her cheeks were a deep shade of crimson. Once again, shaking her head in the 'no' gesture was the only motion she could complete without cowering.

"Oh well. We'll have to start immediately." He pulled out a familiar book, with a green leather cover with yellow text on the front. Quidditch Through the Ages was splashed on the front, with a red stamp that proclaimed it was the property of the Hogwarts Library. "Hermione Granger checked this book out with the due date of March 2nd. You don't remember reading any of this?"

"I didn't have time. I was studying for finals." Malfoy rolled his eyes. How predictable! he thought.

"Well, this time you have to read it, and remember it. Focus particularly on his favorite team, and if you don't know it, find out what it is. I'm sure you attend matches, but from now on you have to be attentive, it will give you something to discuss, and probably make him show more interest in you. Focus mainly on chapters seven, eight, nine, and ten, but make sure you know the positions and their equipment, along with scoring."

Hermione tried to take it all in. My life is going to be under some serious construction. I'll have to alter so much for him. He's worth it, but the impact is enough to make me reconsider everything.

She hadn't realized the fact that she had groaned, but he had.

"It's a lot. I know. But if you love him... You just have to tell yourself that the incentive will pay off, and if you love him... It will."

What in hell was that? Did Malfoy give me advice? That sounded stupid. That's the point of this lesson, to receive advice. But... It was more than teaching. It was personal. He was sharing a part of himself, a part of his own love knowledge. Woah.

Malfoy himself broke her thoughts about him when he said, "Now, for your physical training."

Oh no, oh no. He's talking about my weight. He's noticed then. I'm going to get verbally whipped. This black rag didn't help me one...

"I think we should improve your dancing technique."

"What?"

"You're. Dancing. Technique."

"Oh, right."

Hermione was standing, as was Malfoy, and they stared at each other from a small distance of three feet. Their eyes connected as they discussed what was about to occur.

"How do you feel when you dance, Granger?" She literally took the time to think about this, and answered truthfully.

"I feel clumsy. I feel masculine. I feel self-conscious. Everyone is watching me, because I'm amusing, and that's the last thing I want. I-" Malfoy cut her off.

"Dance is not supposed to make you feel that way. It is the most sensual skill a female can use. You should feel exotic." Hermione shut her eyes, trying to focus completely on his words. He continued. "It is silent, which means that physical contact has to speak for itself. Eye contact is necessary. If the physical contact you make is so fluid you don't have to think, you've found a match. If it isn't, you haven't. You shouldn't feel clumsy, masculine, self-conscious, or like the butt of a joke."

He took a step toward her, and she felt something completely unexpected...

Comfort.

With a swish and flick, Malfoy muttered incoherent words and music poured from his wand. It was a song, with a female voice, a fresh beat, and breathy sighs in the background that were intimate and made Hermione's heart race.

"If you were at The Extreme and a song similar to this was playing, you'd have to make an approach. As I said, eye contact is necessary. Imagine that he's sitting at the crowded bar, alone, waiting for someone... You. You see him, and weave your way through bodies. He spots you, hooked, and your eyes are playful. You let your heart feel for him, and it shows through your eyes, that's how simple it is."

Malfoy's imagery made Hermione shut her eyes again. She could actually see herself.

She could feel herself walking, not fast, because she wanted every moment slow, and almost sacred.

She could feel herself clasp Ron's hands, pulling him lightly to the center of the throngs of people.

She could feel the jolt as they stopped, frozen, staring into each other's eyes for a moment, an instant before.

She could feel Ron's hands settle on her waist, pull her forward, their bodies not touching.

And then an undeniable rush as they did. Oh Ron...

Hands lightly pressed together, torsos leaning back and forth towards each other, feet slowly working up a rhythm . Hermione found that she wasn't clumsy in the slightest. In fact, none of her insecurities came into place. They shimmied in a circle, and then went around each other, the transition smooth as silk. Then he turned her, and strong hands were on hips. As one pair moved forward, the other moved back. Hands went into the air like snakes and their charmers, and fluttered back down to link together in a complicated pattern.

Intensity. Hermione found that she didn't have to think. She wasn't even aware of her own breath, but she was of his lightly on the back of her neck, so close, but too far. She liked the teasing feeling.

As they slowed, she ran her hands through Ron's hair.

And when she opened her eyes, anxious to look into Ron's merry bluish orbs, she came face to face with hands, her own, tangled in blonde masses. Feeling strangled, she found herself looking into brown eyes, that were dancing.

Malfoy was laughing at her.

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