"Hermione, how much Grog root were we supposed to put in again?" a very confused Ron Weasley asked his friend, holding the severed plants up and squinting at them. The Prefect glared, snatching them from him, and chopped off a good-sized bit, dropping it in to his cauldron without a word. He stared at her, dead shocked for moment, before coughing nervously.
"Mione... are you all right?"
"Fine." she muttered, shooting a glare in Malfoy's direction. He seemed not to notice, busy snickering at Lavender's smoking cauldron with his (by all accounts) closest friend, Pansy Parkinson.
"Has that snot-nosed little Slytherin been bothering you?" he asked, following her line of sight. "I'd love a good excuse to hex him again. Been a while-"
"Oh Ron, would you give it a rest?" she exclaimed, a bit too loudly. She flushed bright red as the rest of the class turned to stare at them, before going back to their own cauldrons. Snape narrowed his eyes in their direction, but was a bit busy helping Lavender and Pavrati's keep their jellylegs antidote under control.
"Give what a rest?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Your daily pissing match with Draco. It's getting old." she replied.
"Oh, he's Draco now, is he?" he shot back, his eyes growing cold. Hermione knew him too well, though- she could detect the hint of pain in them, as well. "Whose side are you on, exactly? Playing Devil's Advocate against your best friend?"
"I'm sorry, Ron. It's just childish, juvenile- you're older than that." she said with a sigh, taking and measuring out some black powder for his cauldron by way of an apology. "I've just been having a strange week, allright? Too much Muggle philosophy."
"It's fine." he replied, eyes growing weary. "With Voldemort gaining power, it hasn't been much fun for any of us. You can tell the teachers don't have their hearts in it anymore, and Harry-" he stopped short, glancing back at the Slytherins, who had stopped talking, presumably to listen in on their conversation.
"Tell me later." she whispered, glaring at Malfoy. He smirked at her when Ron had went back to his cauldron, mouthing the words 'twelve o'clock' with a particularly sadistic grin. Turning around to hide the flush that was creeping over her cheeks, she looked at the clock, realizing it was only five minutes to the hour.
She knew she'd be there, even if deep inside her mind she was trying to convince herself to go to lunch with Ron and Harry and forget the whole bloody mess. But Draco Malfoy was a mystery to her, especially with his recent behavior… and she never could resist a challenge.
Hermione pushed the old oak door to the Astronomy tower open slowly, half expecting Malfoy to be in there with all of Slytherin house to back him up. She wouldn't put it past him to go through all this trouble just to make a fool out of her- even that kiss- but she wasn't going to think about that.
"I knew you'd come." he said, a genuine -for once- grin crossing his face. He was leaning against one of the walls, staring out the window in what he must have thought was a debonair pose. She had to try hard to keep from laughing. "This is one of the only places we can really be alone in the castle…"
"And why exactly do we need to be alone, Draco?" she asked, trying to affect a haughty air. "I hope you know what happened yesterday doesn't mean anything-"
"Oh, but it does." he laughed, making his way through the rows of desks and over to her. "I didn't ask you here to snog, Hermione, as much as I'd love it-" she blushed, and his smile grew even wider- "I came here to ask if you'd thought about my proposition."
"There was a proposition hidden in your oh-so-twisted line between good and evil? I must have missed it amongst all the bull- "
"There was a proposition, Hermione… to see the other side of that coin. I'm giving you the opportunity to experience, first hand, what it's like to be on my side. You can see for yourself where you want to fight after that."
"Oh really, Draco?" she shook her head, mentally berating herself for even entertaining his foolish little fantasy. "And what do you suggest I do? Transfer to Slytherin? I highly doubt that's allowed. And aren't we forgetting entirely that, oh, I don't know… Harry and Ron would kill me? And you, most likely."
"No, you silly girl." he snapped, shaking his head. "Summer vacation is coming up soon… you could come home with me. We could tell our parents we were dating- I've told my father I have a girlfriend. So he wouldn't worry… mostly."
"And what about my blood? Wouldn't he be able to tell I wasn't- pure?" she asked, a hint of venom in her voice. One of the things that she hated most about Malfoy, and Slytherins in general, was their dependency on pure wizard bloodlines.
"You can't just tell, Hermione." he said, growing a bit irritated. "He'd have to know your family lines, and I sincerely doubt he'd care as long as you were pretty enough. Which, my dear-" he smirked- "you certainly are. So are you coming or not?"
She sighed, moving away from him and walking towards the window. She had nothing else to do this summer- nothing but stay with her Muggle family, back in a Muggle town surrounded by bloody Muggles. She'd never had a problem with it before- but as she grew better as a witch, she wanted increasingly to live around magic, to live with magic. But was it worth it? Would Draco's dark side tempt her? Would she even make it though the summer alive? Who knew what life would be like for a Gryffindor in Death Eater territory.
It was dangerous- very, very dangerous. However she'd hide herself, there was a chance she'd be found- there was no telling what sort of magic the Malfoys used. But it could be worth it. She wanted to do something in her life- not just be one of Harry Potter's sidekicks, and a walking Gryffindor spell encyclopedia. She was more than that. And she could accomplish more. Hermione stole a glance back at Draco, and he only smirked at her, already quite certain she'd be coming. She laughed.
"Maybe, Malfoy. Maybe."
And with that, she turned on her heel and briskly walked to the other side of the room, stepping out and shutting the door behind her, still laughing softly to herself. Stunned for only a moment, Draco ran after the amused brunette, jumping down almost an entire flight of stairs to catch up with her.
"Maybe? What does 'maybe' mean Hermione?" he asked, stepping in front of her. She rolled her eyes.
"It means what it means! I'm still not sure why you're offering me this… this chance at learning what the other side is like. For all you know, I could feed information back to Dumbledore. He may know about this already-"
"I know you better than you think, Granger. You may pretend to be some rule-abiding, perfect, prissy little prefect," he said, as if it was the worst insult imaginable, "but I know better. You're not Potter and Weasel's tag along, or a teacher's pet- you've a mind of your own, Hermione. And I think I'm one of the few boys who's not a Weasley, honorary or no, who knows exactly how great a mind that is."
She paused for a moment, searching his face for some hint of telling emotion. No boy had ever said anything like that to her before… no person had. But why Draco Malfoy? And why now, after all these years of mutual animosity?
"So what, Draco… you see me as some sort of challenge? A worthy opponent to your own brilliance?" she asked dryly.
His eyes sparkled with amusement as he reached out to tuck a strand of no-longer-bushy brown hair behind her ears. She rolled her eyes again as he laughed.
"Exactly, my dear Muggle, exactly. Ah, but I can't call you Muggle anymore, can I? Because in a week or so, you'll be pure-blooded and perfect."
"Oh really?" she asked, not even bothering to be offended. "And how are you going to manage that?" He grinned.
"I've got a few ideas."