A/N: I am not and have never been affiliated in any way with WB, Scholastic Press, or any of the rest of it. I do not own anything but my plot, my own characters, and some of the spells and such. I'll thank you not to steal them. If you like something enough to want to use it, ask first. That should be all.... Enjoy!
Hardest Thing
Chapter One
For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger wasn't paying attention in class. Since Professor Binns had opened his mouth an hour before, Hermione had doodled all over what were supposed to be her notes, broken a quill in half, and knocked her textbook off her desk. In the rear of the classroom, Seamus Finnegan raised his hand. Professor Binns paused and blinked.
"Yes, O' Flahtery?"
"It's time to go, sir," Seamus informed him, already rising from his seat.
"Eh?" Ah...then class dismissed." Professor Binns turned and floated through the wall. There was a mad rush for the door. Hermione collected her things and met Harry and Ron outside the classroom.
"Well, I had a nice nap," Ron yawned. "Hermione, can I borrow your notes?"
"Nope," Hermione answered flatly.
"Aw, come on," Ron begged. "Be a sport."
"No," Hermione answered again.
"Why not?" Ron demanded.
"Because I didn't take any," Hermione said, adjusting her rucksack. Ron gaped at her.
"You didn't take any?" he repeated, staring.
"Harry, I think this hallway echoes," Hermione quipped.
"I can't believe it," Ron continued. "You've failed me, Hermione."
"Why? Am I not allowed a day off?" Hermione demanded, looking Ron squarely in the eye. Ron looked at Harry for help. "Take your own notes occasionally. If you really want to know about the Ministry Acts of 1911, read your bloody textbook!" Hermione finished.
"I'm starving," Harry said, changing the subject. "Let's go on to lunch before it disappears!"
Hermione took a step forward, but whirled around when an ink bottle slipped out of her bag, shattering on the stone floor. Glass splintered across the ink, glittering in the flickering torchlight.
"Bugger!" she exclaimed, dancing backwards. She pulled out her wand. "Reparo! Scourgify!" The ink vanished as its bottle became whole again. Hermione pocketed the empty bottle, making a mental note to fill it later. "Pity I can't get the ink into the bottle first," she remarked. The three friends trooped down to the Great Hall with the rest of the school for the midday meal.
"I can't believe how much homework we've got already," Ron grumbled through his sandwich. "It's only been two weeks and I'm already loaded down."
"Stop moaning," Hermione ordered, reaching for an apple. "You're beginning to sound like Myrtle."
Harry snickered. Ron rolled his eyes.
"Please pass me a sandwich," Hermione requested sweetly.
"You've already had one," Ron reminded her.
"I know," responded Hermione, "And I want another." Ron complied, staring as she polished it off.
"You think that's entertaining," Harry joked. "You ought to see yourself!"
"Oh ha," Ron replied, gulping down some pumpkin juice.
"Hey, Hermione, what do you have next? Ron and I have Divination."
"Ummm..." Hermione thought for a moment. "Arithmancy."
"Don't forget that Hagrid invited us for tea this afternoon," Harry reminded her. "Four o'clock."
"Shall we meet outside?" Hermione inquired, wiping her mouth delicately with a napkin.
Harry nodded in reply.
"Great," Hermione said, standing up. "Then I'm off." And she left. Harry and Ron watched her go.
"Something's weird with her today," Ron remarked.
"Yeah," Harry agreed. He gazed speculatively around the noisy room. His eyes fell upon the Slytherin table where Draco Malfoy and his friends were having a raucous laugh about something. Malfoy caught Harry's eye and sneered. Harry looked at Ron. "I wonder what they're up to," he said, jerking his head at them.
"Who cares?" Ron shrugged. "Listen, d'you think Trelawney'll believe me if I tell her that you can tell fortunes with Doxy droppings? Fred and George were experimenting once over the summer...." The two were soon lost in conversation.
............
Hermione waited patiently for class to end. Although her notes were unusually incomplete, she had managed to pay attention to the lesson and finished her classwork before everyone else. Five minutes... four... three... She wanted to stop in the library before meeting Harry and Ron. Two minutes... one...
"Class dismissed."
Hermione swept her belongings into her bag before Professor Vector had finished speaking. She shot out the door and dodging other students along the way, reached the sanctuary of the school library in record time. She scanned the shelves quickly for a comprehensive guide to Ministry Acts, feeling guilty for not having taken notes. She found nothing immediately and decided to search again more thoroughly when she had more time. Hermione ducked back into the bustling hallway.
On the second floor, Hermione slowed her pace, walking mechanically without personal attention to her path. People passed her on both sides, talking and laughing, tones cheerful at the prospect of an easy afternoon. Hermione had nearly reached the Marble Staircase when someone slid a well-toned arm about her neck. Stunned, she looked up into Draco Malfoy's silvery eyes.
"Hello, Granger," he said casually, and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Hermione froze, arms rigid by her sides. She stared, horror-stricken, as Malfoy stepped away from her as if nothing had happened. Around her, other students who had stopped to watch broke into whispers and laughter. Hermione continued to stare, bringing a hand to her stinging lips as she did so.
............
Draco Malfoy was excessively pleased with himself. He'd won the bet and given himself an unexpected bit of pleasure.... kissing a very stunned Hermione Granger. Of course, word of it would soon reach his father, but Mudblood baiting was a reasonable excuse for nearly everything he did. Getting a couple of laughs in the meantime was more than worth it.
"Hey, Draco," Pansy Parkinson said, attempting to be cute. She moved purposely into his path, twirling her hair around a finger. She looks like a Pug-Afghan mix, Malfoy thought. A real bitch. He smiled to himself.
"Parkinson," he answered.
"What are you doing later? We could... get together..." She looked at him suggestively. Malfoy cringed inwardly.
"I'll be quite busy, I'm sure." Pansy looked a bit taken aback, but quickly recovered. A bit of a sneer entered her voice.
"How's the bet going?"
Malfoy smiled calmly. "I'm on my way to collect."
Pansy's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious... You actually kissed her? A Mudblood?"
"You catch on quickly," Malfoy replied smoothly. "Now if you'll excuse me." He brushed past Pansy and continued down the hall.
Pansy hurried down the corridor in the opposite direction. She had to find Millicent! And, she thought, I won't let Draco kiss me until he's used a good, strong mouthwash.
Malfoy ducked beneath a dusty tapestry, climbing a set of dark, cobwebby stairs. At the top of the stairs he came to a door, but the clean handle betrayed its unused look. He burst through the door, entering a dimly lit room where several boys sat drinking. When the door banged open, they all jumped, trying clumsily to conceal a large bottle of firewhisky.
"Shit, Malfoy!" Blaise Zabini cried, taking out the bottle again. "Thought you were Filch."
"Didn't expect me so soon?" Malfoy drawled. "Come on, Zabini, fork over."
"No way you've done it already!"
"On the second floor with plenty of witnesses," Malfoy replied. "Come on." Blaise paused.
"I'll triple the spoils if you do it again," he offered, eyes glittering. Malfoy thought for a moment. What had he to lose?
"Done."
"Do you want some?" slurred Vincent Crabbe from a corner, gesturing to Blaise's bottle.
"No." Malfoy turned on his heel and strode from the room, already planning his next move.
............
Hermione sat with Hagrid, Ron, and Harry, sipping tea and pretending to listen to their conversation. Her hand shook as she raised her cup to her lips, sloshing tea up the sides of the vessel.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked, peering at her over his steaming teacup.
"Yes," Hermione replied automatically. "Fine." Harry raised an eyebrow, but dropped the subject.
"How's Olympe, Hagrid?" Hermione asked quickly.
"Fine, Hermione." Hagrid looked puzzled. "Ron jus' asked."
"Sorry," Hermione sighed apologetically. "Long day."
"'Ave yeh got loads of homework?" Hagrid inquired with a wink at Ron.
"Yes," Hermione answered quickly. "And rightly so! N. E. W. T. s are this year. We all need the extra practise."
"I'll have no time for Quidditch," Ron complained. "Especially if I don't have any notes to work from..."
"And whose fault is that?" Hermione asked, getting irritated. Ron grumbled something under his breath.
"Look at the time!" Hagrid exclaimed suddenly. "Don't mean ter be rude, but I have to feed the Erumpent."
"That's all right. Ron needs as much time as possible to finish his homework," Hermione said severely. Ron scowled.
"Thanks for the tea, Hagrid," Harry said, standing. "Bye, Fang," The large hound looked droopily up from his bed in the corner. They followed Hagrid out of the hut and walked back to the castle.
............
Back in the castle, Hermione rushed through the halls, ignoring the whispers, stares, and giggles that followed her. Harry and Ron hastened to keep up, observing the effect that Hermione's presence made on the students that she passed. They glanced at each other. What was she not telling them? At the entrance to the Head Girl's quarters, Hermione stopped and waited for her friends, rocking backwards and forwards on her toes.
"I have some really important work to do," she said in a rush, "And I need to be alone."
"That's fine," Harry replied. Hermione turned to go, wand raised to unlock her door. Ron opened his mouth.
"Hey, Hermione, why-"
Harry jabbed him in the ribs, shutting him up.
"Why what?" Hermione's heart beat faster.
"Um, never mind," on said lamely, glancing at Harry. "See you later."
Hermione watched her friends walk down the hall, joking and laughing. They'd hear about it soon enough. She turned back to the ornately carved wooden door. Pressing the tip of her wand to the centre of the pattern on the door, Hermione thought very hard about Crookshanks, her ginger tomcat. The door sprang open and Hermione stepped inside her rooms, grateful to be alone.
She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying that humiliating moment in the hallway. She recalled the look of amusement in Malfoy's silver-grey eyes and the sweep of blonde hair that curved around his pale face. She remembered all too clearly how delicious he smelled – spicy and sweet and exotic. Then she remembered exactly how his lips felt against her own, and her stomach did a backflip. What had he been doing? Draco Malfoy did not just walk up to Muggle-born girls he'd tormented for six years and kiss them. It had to be some sort of set-up.
............
Hermione visited the Gryffindor Common Room before going down the dinner. When she entered the room, everyone fell silent and stared at her. The entire seventh year sat together in the middle of the room. Hermione stepped self-consciously towards them, but Harry stood up and she stopped.
"When were you planning to say something?" he inquired calmly. She met his eyes helplessly.
"I figured you'd hear about it-"
"Yeah, we heard all right....about fifteen different versions!" Ron bellowed furiously, interrupting her. He rose from his chair. "Kissing Draco Malfoy? That's disgusting, Hermione!"
Hermione flushed. "You act like I threw myself at him!" she cried angrily.
"That's exactly the way half of the stories put it," Ron shot back. Neville Longbottom stood up and placed a restraining hand on Ron's shoulder.
"Calm down!" he admonished. "I think we should hear Hermione's side of it. We all know that stories have a tendency to be blown out of proportion around here." Ron looked somewhat abashed. Hermione looked gratefully at Neville.
"I was walking in the second floor corridor on my way to Hagrid's when Malfoy grabbed me and kissed me. That's all! I had absolutely no say in the matter. I didn't tell you right away because I hadn't figured it out myself yet, for one thing, and for another, because I knew you'd try to curse him into next year!"
"That's a lot less than he deserves," piped Lavender from her seat. "What exactly is he playing at?"
"That's what I'd like to know," Harry said thoughtfully.
"Tell me about it!" Hermione cried. "After all, I'm the one who has the most right to be offended. Look, could we continue this elsewhere?" She looked pointedly at Harry and Ron.
"Well," said Ginny Weasley, looking up from the game of chess she'd been playing with Colin Creevey. "The real thing sure isn't as exciting as the stories. I think I prefer them, actually." She looked impishly at Hermione. "The thought of Malfoy jumping you in the hallway and ravishing you in front of everyone sounded quite interesting."
Hermione gave a little shriek and flamed redder than ever.
"Come on, Hermione," Harry said, moving towards the door. "Let's go." Ron followed them into the hallway. Two Ravenclaw girls passed them on a staircase, giggling when they saw Hermione.
"Clear off," Ron growled, startling them.
"Ron, don't," Hermione said plaintively. "You'll make it worse." Harry led them into an empty classroom and shut the door.
"I'm assuming," he said, "That you don't want Ron or me to deal with this and would rather hex his balls off yourself."
Hermione nodded.
"I think you've already picked up on the embellished gossip bit," he continued.
Hermione flushed and nodded again.
"Then there isn't much we can do. It'll blow over soon...until then, it's probably best just to keep a low profile. You've done that before."
"Except that Rita Skeeter made it up, and this happened for real," Hermione pointed out.
"I wish you'd let me have a go at him, Hermione," Ron grumbled.
"I have to deal with this myself," Hermione said firmly. "I think I'd like to eat in my rooms tonight, though."
"We'll bring you something later, if you like," Harry offered.
Hermione thanked him. With a small smile at Ron, she departed, thankfully meeting no one on her return to her room.
............
Hermione had finished her essay on the benefits of peace pacts with half-human races (not due until the following week) in addition to her regular homework by the time Ron and Harry arrived again. She answered her friends' knock, shaking out her cramping hand as she greeted them. Harry and Ron declined the invitation to come in, but informed her that Dumbledore had announced cheerfully that public displays of affection were not permitted in the halls. Hermione thanked them and said good night.
One of the boys, probably Harry, had remembered Crookshanks and wrapped a bit of chicken up in a piece of parchment. The cat devoured it eagerly as Hermione munched a couple of rolls and a slice of ham. An apple later, Hermione was ready to sleep.
............
Malfoy was very pleased. The entire school was buzzing with wild rumours. There would be no question in Zabini's mind...he had definitely kissed Hermione Granger. And enjoyed it, too, although Blaise would never know that.
He'd watched from a doorway on the second floor as Hermione walked down the hallway. He'd crept up behind her, ignoring the strange looks given by passers-by. Then, he'd grabbed her and stared into her gleaming brown eyes, wide with shock. And finally he'd kissed her, noting with satisfaction her soft lips, unprepared for his touch. Malfoy had a strong suspicion that it had been her first kiss, too.
He smiled to himself. He would have done it again for free. Instead, he'd reap triple the benefits for capturing her mouth again, touching her soft brown hair and smelling the delicate floral perfume she wore. She'd certainly grown a lot since her first year at Hogwarts. Her slender figure was attractive and feminine, and although her hair still hinted at bushiness, Malfoy found it endearing. He wondered briefly how she'd feel pressed against him...
And quickly squished the thought. This was a no-emotion job. Besides, his father would throw an absolute fit. At any moment, an owl would arrive with an angry message demanding to know what was going on. Malfoy smirked. It was only too easy to lie, just as he'd been taught, literally at his mother's knee.
He rolled over on his bed and stared blankly into space. Slowly sleep crept over him. His dreams were dark.