Dinner at the Great Hall

Hermione was already eating supper in between Harry and Ron at the Great Hall and still, she didn't know what to do. Since after their visit to Professor Brooks that morning, she had thought of countless scenarios as to how to outsmart Malfoy somehow and not put her friends in jeopardy. It should've been easy enough, considering Malfoy was a stupid prat, but it was as though she were a different person, not being able to concentrate as well as she often did, and therefore came up with nothing helpful.

She really seemed to be getting thicker by the minute, ever since Ron and her shared that blasted kiss. She furrowed her eyebrows, realizing that she actually now saw Ron's point. It would be too difficult for the two of them to get together, not with Voldemort alive again and more Death Eaters on the loose. The last thing Harry needed was for his two best friends to get caught up in their own lives and forget about helping him. And, when she thought about it, it was really her and Ron's involvement that got her into her present predicament. If only we hadn't kissed that time… she thought, trying to think back on what exactly happened that caused her and Ron to kiss for the first time.

They were just at the balcony, admiring the Quidditch Pitch with its red and gold decorations as Ron had again, just saved enough Quaffles for Gryffindor to win the game. They watched as the sun was slowly disappearing on the horizon. It had all seemed so perfect, so picturesque, and Ron looked at her with such joy in his eyes, it made her feel weak at the knees. And when he leaned in closer, her response of looking up at him was almost instinctive. It was probably the way the moon was shining on his hair—she paused. The moon wasn't up yet that day they met after the game, and she realized, she had suddenly jumped thoughts from their first kiss to their second, which, she recalled in disgust, wasn't with Ron at all but with… She shuddered at the thought and yet knew it was the reason she still hadn't come up with a plan to get away from Malfoy—because she couldn't well stop thinking about their kiss. She still remembered exactly how it had felt, how surprised he seemed at first when her lips came to meet his and how confident he'd been when he started to kiss her back. Now, she remembered that at the time, she had vaguely noticed a change in the way Ron was kissing, but didn't dwell too much on it as the way he was making her feel left little energy to put effort elsewhere but in the kiss that she had then wished wouldn't end.

She groaned. Hadn't she just told herself that she wouldn't think about that again? Besides, the kiss that Malfoy gave her last night—and as himself, really wasn't anything compared to the first one. It was completely different from the other ones she'd experienced. The urgency that Malfoy impaled upon her made her feel as if she was needed, as if she was… wanted. But that was ridiculous.There was absolutely no way Malfoy could ever want her. Not that she wanted him to. If anything, she was grateful that he always hated her, because it didn't make her feel guilty to despise him. But that still didn't answer her question.

Why did Malfoy kiss her that night when he had all the freedom in the world not to? And it was highly unlikely that he got caught up in the moment like she and Ron had. There wasn't any 'moment' to get caught up in to begin with.

She was incredibly confused. And catching Malfoy's eyes across the room wasn't helping any. He was probably only reminding her of their meeting later, although the look in his eyes made it seem like there was something else he wanted with her. She looked at her food, avoiding anybody else's gaze. She had never felt more self-conscious in her life.

"We sure got Malfoy this time," Ron said, taking a swig of his pumpkin juice.

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding.

"Well, I don't meant to rain on your parade," Hermione started. "But don't you think Malfoy's going to do something to get you guys back?" she asked. "I mean, I heard Professor Brooks was already telling some students that the projection was just charmed, like painting, that it didn't really happen," she added nervously.

"Yeah, I heard that too," Ron said. "He said that everything he saw was just a fake projection. And so was that show in the Great Hall. We tried to ask who gave him that idea actually. Apparently Malfoy's got himself a witness."

"But Brooks wouldn't tell us who it is," Harry said. "I bet it's Snape though, trying to make up for sending Malfoy in detention with us."

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "If only McGonagall hadn't come in to remind us of the schedule change for Monday and point out to him that Malfoy's voice was just as loud as ours when she heard our argument from the hallway, Snape would've let him off the hook for sure."

"Lucky he didn't though or we wouldn't have come up with out plan," Harry said, smiling. "But I wonder what Malfoy did the time that he was you."

Hermione's heart pounded faster.

"Didn't he say he was going to the library? Because it wasn't a place people would expect to see me, so he doesn't run into anyone?" Ron reminded him. "Good of him, really. Gave us the chance we needed. Not that anybody would've really mistaken him for me though," Ron said, eating his kidney pie. "He was wearing that smirk on his face the whole time, he still looked like himself even with my face. Someone would have to be really stupid to have mistaken him for me," he said, chuckling.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him. "You don't know that," she said, in an effort to defend herself though Ron didn't know it. "It was already after supper, right? That means it was dark. And you know how people can get confused in the dark," she pointed out.

"Well… Yeah," Ron agreed. "But it's not just the unmistakable smirks that could give him away. Never in a million years would Malfoy ever act like me. Didn't you hear the way he talked?" he turned to Harry. "He had my voice but he certainly spoke in a different manner, insulting Snape to his face. You really should've seen him Hermione."

I did, Hermione answered to herself. And he didn't sound anything like you. Only, I thought it was because you were mad at him and confused about us that's why I didn't see through it, she thought and then groaned. Oh, of all the nights to be emotionally unstable and not be thinking clearly… "But Malfoy didn't notice it was you and Harry that time you turned into Crabbe and Goyle in 2nd year," she argued.

"Because Malfoy's bloody stupid!" Ron reasoned. "Besides, it wasn't difficult to act like Crabbe and Goyle—we just had to pretend we were really dumb."

"Pretend?" Hermione said with a catch in her voice, growing more annoyed at Ron. If she had any doubts before as to whether it was better to tell Ron the truth or not, they were certainly gone now. He really wouldn't understand. "I think you underestimate the power of the Polyjuice Potion, Ron, I really do. I mean, Mr. Crouch used it and got even Professor Dumbledore believing he was the real Moody," she said. "For a year," he added meaningfully.

But Ron just rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying it takes a lot to pretend to be me, and I don't think Malfoy's got enough talent to pull it off."

"Assuming he'd ever want to," Hermione said with a frown. She couldn't believe she was actually arguing with Ron again. Sure, they'd agreed to go back to being just friends, but couldn't he at all be the least bit understanding after everything? She took a swig of her pumpkin juice, now determined more than ever to give Malfoy a few strands of Ron's hair. Perhaps he's like to know just how much of the school's population Malfoy could fool when he turned into him. Anyway Malfoy surely wouldn't ever be able to do anything that Harry and Ron can't handle. Even if he was a Slytherin.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm alive. For those of you who were wondering that. Sorry this took so long to update. And that this chapter's not at all worth the wait. And that I'm not uploading the next chapters yet still. Er... I really don't know when I'll be able to finish writing this, but, like they say, "You can't rush art." Not that this is art or anything remotely close to that, just... Well, I'll just shut up before I say anything else you'd hate me for as well. Um... Review? Please? :P