The next day was a Saturday and it was a Hogsmeade weekend. Spirits were high as everyone in the Gryffindor common room chattered excitedly about his or her plans. Harry came down the stairs and found Ron already waiting for him.
"Ready?" Harry asked.
"Let's go," Ron said.
"Wait." Harry pulled out a small tube of what appeared to be makeup.
"What's that for?" Ron tilted his head as he stared at the foreign object in Harry's hand.
"I stole Hermione's concealer so that no one will see my scar, you prat. Now shut up and show me how this works." Harry dubiously unscrewed the cap.
"Uh, lemme see. I think I saw Ginny use this once…" Ron took the tube, pulled Harry's bangs back, and squeezed. Because Ron was a male, he was not endowed with the fine sensory perception that females are born with that enable them to squeeze out exact portions of makeup. Thus, Ron ended up squirting out a blob the size of a galleon onto Harry's forehead. "Er, right then, just rub it in," Ron asserted. Harry reached his fingers up to his forehead and rubbed. Concealer dripped into his left eye.
"AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" Harry screamed as several Gryffindors looked on in alarm.
"What the hell is going on over there?" Seamus said.
"Harry spilled some, uh, acne potion in his eye," Ron said, his ears turning pink. Harry was furiously rubbing his eye. "Hold still, mate," Ron said as he pointed his wand at Harry. "Aquatifis!" Water shot out of Ron's wand and hit Harry all over Harry's face.
"STOP IT YOU PRAT!!!" Harry's head and shoulders were soaking wet. His left eye was red and puffy.
"Well it helped, didn't it?" Ron said, trying not to laugh. "Go put on a different sweatshirt.
"Fine," Harry stalked off to his dorm.
Five minutes later, the two friends were walking quickly and quietly into Hogsmeade, taking a back route to avoid seeing any students they knew. Harry knew that if he were caught sneaking out of Hogsmeade, then there would be dire consequences. Ron sighed and glanced toward the sky.
"Looks like it's going to rain. Good thing, too. Less chance of people noticing us."
"Mmmhmm." Harry was unusually quiet. They rounded the corner into an alleyway that led to an even less populated road. Harry shoved Ron behind a dumpster and followed his friend. "Okay, on three we're going to run to the street corner, stick out our wands with our right hands, and the knight bus should arrive. And move your arse fast, because people might see us." Harry looked around, his eyes darting from side to side, searching for students. He found none.
"Okay." Harry whispered. "One…Two…THREE!" Harry and Ron stuck out their wands with their right hands and sprinted to the street corner. Two seconds later, a violently purple bus appeared, honking noisily. It creaked to a stop, the door flew open, and out stepped Stan Shunpike.
" 'Ello, my name is Stan Shun—" Stan was cut off as Harry pushed him aside and dove into the bus. Ron yelled "GO!" to the conductor and grabbed Stan's arm, yanking him back inside the bus. Suddenly, they were rolling along an unfamiliar country road.
"Hey! Wot was that all about?" Stan stood up, gingerly rubbing the back of his head.
Harry panted, "Sorry, mate, but we're in a hurry and we didn't want to be seen."
"Wot's yer names anyhow?" Stan crossed his arms, squinting at Harry and Ron, clearly not in the mood to be hospitable.
Ron started to say "Ron—" but Harry cut him off.
"I'm Alex and this is, er, Tom. Here's our fare. Diagon Alley, please." Harry pressed 2 galleons into Stan's hand to avoid further questioning. He had seen it in a muggle movie once. Harry prayed silently as he watched the cogs turn in Stan's head. It clicked.
"Right then. Can I get you two anything to drink?" Stan took the bait. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
"No thanks, but we're in somewhat of a hurry. When's the soonest you can have us there?" Harry was worried; if he didn't make it back to Hogwarts by curfew, then Snape would surely have something to say about it. Additionally, the fact that he and Ron were sneaking out of Hogsmeade was a source of worry. It was highly illegal and could result in expulsion.
Stan glanced at his watch. "Twenty minutes. Lucky for you, we're having a slow day." With that, Stan left to go talk to Ernie, the driver.
Harry grinned at Ron and they both sat down. A few loud bangs, startled cows, jumping houses, close shaves, and twenty minutes later they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry and Ron tore out of the bus.
"Bye!" Ron called behind his shoulder. Stan waved cheerfully after them, and then the bus disappeared.
"Right, I don't want to be seen in the pub, so pull your hood up as we walk through." Harry and Ron were both wearing sweatshirts for anonymity.
"Okay. Let's go, then." Ron pulled his hood up after Harry and they entered the pub. The two boys stared at the floor as they weaved their way to the back of the pub. Once there, they stepped out into the alley, noted the drizzle that was now falling, and Harry rapidly tapped the bricks. The wall opened, and the two boys ran into Diagon Alley.
Harry looked around. "Where is this place, anyway? It's called Miagi Jewelers, but it's not on the map." Harry was looking at a visitor's guide that showed Diagon Alley as well as a few side streets.
"There." Ron pointed to a place in Saigon Alley, which started near Fortescue's Ice Cream.
"Great. It's not too far then. Let's go, I'm getting wet." Harry folded up the map and jogged down the street, Ron following him. They turned the corner at Fortescue's Ice Cream shop, and found themselves facing a set of heavy wooden doors, with a phone next to it. A peeling piece of paper was taped to it. It read: Dial 3884 for operator and admittance.
Harry looked at Ron. Ron shrugged. Harry picked up the phone, dialed the numbers, and after one ring, the phone was picked up. A smooth male voice, presumably a recording, said, "Please state your name as well as your business in Saigon Alley after the tone. Remember that there are Veritas charms that will prevent you from gaining entrance if you lie in regards to your intentions, as well as armed guards near every shop should you choose to comport yourself in an illegal, dangerous, or otherwise disturbing manner. Thank you." The beep sounded. Harry nervously cleared his throat.
"Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Here to find a gift for my girlfriend."
The doors opened just wide enough to admit one person at a time. Harry and Ron walked through, single file. The doors slammed shut behind them. The boys stared in amazement at the street in front of them, which had turned into a myriad of stone pathways.
Harry and Ron felt as if they had just stepped into a Japanese Tea Garden. They looked up and noticed that they were shielded from the rain by a pagoda roof, of which many others dotted the winding stone pathways. Beneath these roofs were simple buildings with large windows, which were aesthetically pleasing, importing a sense of calm. Bamboo plants swayed gently as they graced the walkway, along with other exotic plants the boys had never seen before, or seen only in textbooks.
Harry suddenly noticed how hot he was—his sweatshirt felt stifling in the humidity. As he pulled his sweatshirt off, he realized how quiet it was. There was barely any noise, save for the babble of a far off brook as well as a few hushed whispers.
"This. Is. Amazing." Harry looked at his friend, who was staring open mouthed at a beautiful woman approaching them.
"Yea…" Ron said absently, as the woman grinned and nodded her head to him.
"Konichiwa. Welcome to Saigon Alley. I am Fen May." She said politely as she placed her hands in prayer position, and bowed to the visitors.
"Thanks," Harry said, still trying to absorb the scenery.
"Can I help you find any particular store?" Fen May was gorgeous. She was very petite and clothed in the finest red silk kimono, complete with tiny flowers that seemed to grow from her shiny black hair. Her round face had a radiant glow to it, and her almond shaped brown eyes were hypnotizing. A dab of red graced the center of her lower lip. Seeing as Ron was speechless, Harry answered.
"Miagi Jewelers?" Harry questioned.
"Ah. Yes, one of our finest. It is pagoda number four, the one with the dragon statue in front." Fen May pointed a delicate finger toward a nearby pagoda.
"Thank you. C'mon, you." Harry chuckled as he dragged Ron down the street.
"Wha? Oh." Ron was slightly disappointed that they didn't need any more help. The two boys continued walking the steamy pathways. It smelled of fresh rain and bamboo. Harry and Ron reached the shop, and a petite woman in a yellow kimono, much like Fen May, greeted them.
"Welcome to Miagi Jewelers. Here you will find some of the most dazzling and rare pieces on the market. We have something for everyone," the woman said quietly as she bowed.
"Thanks," Harry said, as he pushed open the driftwood door.
Miagi Jewelers was very artistically arranged; the store itself was like a haiku. It was simple, yet elegant. Calming, yet full of energy. The perfect balance of yin and yang. A few oriental tapestries of fierce samurai graced the walls. Natural light poured into the room, adding shine to the black lacquer display cases, which resembled sushi boxes. The boxes were flush with the walls, allowing the owner a certain level of intimacy with the customer, as they would both be on the same side of the counter. Instead of sushi, however, the most beautiful array of precious gemstones was arranged carefully in the simple red velvet lining of the boxes. Ron's eyes were as big as saucers as he looked at some of the jewels. One jewel was easily worth more than his entire house.
An old Japanese man stepped out from behind a curtain. He had a long, yet neatly trimmed beard. His face was very aged looking, yet he possessed a certain vivacity and quality of life.
"Konichiwa, Mr. Potter. Mr. Weasley." The man bowed to each of them.
"How do you know who I am?" Harry said suspiciously.
"I know many things. Tell me what brings you to my humble establishment today," the man said mysteriously.
"Well, I'm looking for a gift for my girlfriend, Hermione. Something stunning; preferably a necklace," Harry said.
"I see. She is bookish, yet standoffish, is she not?" The man was accurate. Harry was unnerved.
"Y-yes," Harry stammered. "I want something to prove my… love for her."
"Ahhh," the man assumed a thoughtful expression as he put a finger to his lips. "I know just the thing. Follow me." The man walked along the left wall, perusing his collection.
"Your store is beautiful. Where do you find so many jewels?" Harry asked, running his finger along a ruby the size of an egg, his face lit with the red glow. When Harry tried to pull it off the velvet, he found that it was attached with some sort of super adhesive or spell, and he could not move it.
"Ah, ah, ah, do not touch," the man said as he pulled Harry's hand away with surprising strength. "They are very ancient and were found by wizards centuries ago. That is why what you call muggles find so few. But we are not here to discuss muggles. Let us take a look." The man bent down, squinting hard at an emerald.
"Come," He said. Harry and Ron followed him to the other side of the room.
"You see, Mr. Potter, much like wands, jewelry chooses the wizard. Each gem can sense one's intentions, and knows whether or not it is suited for the recipient. Hold your hand out, like this." The man put his hand into the box, almost as if the jewels were alive. The emerald gracefully soared into his hand. Harry and Ron gasped.
"Cool," Ron said in a hushed voice.
"Try this one." The man pointed to a pink diamond. Harry held out his hand. Almost reluctantly, the diamond flopped into his hand.
"No, no, that will not do. Can you sense its apprehension? It knows it is not the one." Harry placed the diamond back onto the velvet, bewildered. Harry looked up. Suddenly, his eyes came into contact with a winking blue sapphire. It seemed to mock him, as if to say "I hold all the secrets in the world and you can't have them!" Impudent little thing, Harry thought. He put his hand next to it. Suddenly, it jumped into his hand, and Harry could feel the warmth and weight of it. He gulped. "I think I've found the one," Harry said. The man smiled and nodded.
Hermione woke up on Saturday with a huge headache and wondered why. Then the previous night's activities came back to her in a rush. She groaned and rolled over, almost wishing she had jumped. The clock read 9:15 a.m. She was already late to the library to start her potions essay. What if someone else took "Potions of Fifteenth Century Goblins" off the shelf before she got there? Hermione laughed at herself as she realized just how absurd she was being. She knew that she really wanted to find Malfoy to talk to him. She had to at least thank him for saving her life; it was only polite, even if he was a Slytherin, she reasoned.
As Hermione toweled off her hair, she looked through her trunk for something to wear. Harry and Ron were in Hogsmeade for the day, and Hermione had an entire day to be by herself and get some peace and quiet, and hopefully fit a smoke in with Ginny. Hermione pulled out her favorite pair of jeans and ratty brown corduroy blazer. She smiled. It was good to be able to wear what she wanted without Harry around to show her off. Hermione grabbed her bag and headed for the library.
Hermione pushed open the heavy library doors and was happy to note that it was quiet, the usual chatter of students absent due to the Hogsmeade visit. She walked briskly to the back of the library because Hermione knew exactly what she was looking for. Hermione took a deep breath.
"Hello," Hermione said slowly. The blonde head whipped around, his icy eyes boring straight into her soul.
"Hello again." Draco stood with his hands in his pockets; the usual smirk absent from his face. Crabbe and Goyle stared stupidly from one to the other. Hermione looked at them and arched an eyebrow.
"Could I speak to you in private?" She pleaded silently with her eyes. Draco squinted quizzically.
"Uh, yes. Of course. After you," Draco said quietly, motioning her to a different section of the library. The two walked in silence, each with their own confused thoughts.
"Mr. Malfoy, I—" Hermione was cut off.
"Draco."
"Draco... I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the nerve to face you.
"Well, here you are, Granger," Draco stated matter-of-factly.
"Here I am. I... I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for... for pulling me back. But for your discretion," Hermione said in a rush.
"You're welcome. Hermione," Draco said, staring hard at her. Hermione squirmed as she turned to face him.
"Look, I know what you must be thinking! Poor little famous Potter's girlfriend. What does she know about misery?"
"That's not what I was thinking," Draco said, frowing. "What I was thinking was... what could have happened to hurt this girl so much she though she had no way out." He looked at her, demanding an explanation.
"I don't... it wasn't just one thing. It was everything. It was them, it was their whole world. And I was trapped in it, like an insect in amber," Hermione said, looking to the ceiling. "I just had to get away... just run and run and run... and then I was at the astronomy tower and there was nowhere to run... even Hogwarts wasn't big enough! Not enough to get away from them. And before I'd really though about it, I was over the wall. I was so furious. I'll show them. They'll be sorry!" Hermione suddenly stopped, realizing that she was spilling her heart to Malfoy.
"Obviously. You'd be dead," Malfoy said, looking at a bookshelf to his right. Malfoy's lack of meanness unnerved Hermione. She felt so stupid suddenly.
"Oh God, I am such an utter fool," Hermione hung her head.
"So…Potter's your boyfriend then?" Malfoy cast around for something to say, stating the obvious.
"Worse, I'm afraid," Hermione whispered, holding out her left hand. "It's a promise ring." On her ring finger was a platinum band with a pink square cut diamond set in the center. Malfoy's eyes widened.
"Merlin, look at that thing! You would have gone straight to the bottom and been squid food!" Malfoy chuckled at the absurdity of the whole thing. "So you feel like you're stuck on a train you can't get off because you're promised to Potter?" Draco stared into Hermione's eyes.
Hermione gulped. "Yes, exactly."
"So don't marry him," Malfoy stated.
"If only it were that simple." Hermione sighed and looked away.
"It is that simple." Malfoy was too close to the truth, and it irked her.
"Oh, Draco... please don't judge me until you've seen my world." Hermione looked at her feet, her hand resting on the counter to steady herself.
"Well, I guess I will tonight at our, ah, rendezvous," Malfoy said, his voice lowering just enough to intrigue Hermione. Hermione snaps her head up, and, seeing his sketchbook, grabs it.
"What's this?" Hermione asked.
"Just some sketches." Malfoy shrugged.
"May I?" Hermione said as she opened the book and began looking through it. Hermione sat down at a nearby table, totally absorbed in the artistry before her; a woman's hands, an small pub, a picture of Draco in what appeared to be Italy, the same woman with the beautiful hands. The faces were luminous, almost alive, like a celebration of the human condition. Hermione let out a small gasp as she turned to the page of naked women.
"Well, well." Hermione was transfixed by the languid beauty Draco had created. His nudes were soulful, real, with expressive hands and eyes. They felt more like portraits than studies of the human form... almost uncomfortably intimate. Hermione blushed and tipped the book back so that only she could see. "And these were drawn from life?"
Draco grinned. "Yup. That's one of the great things about Paris. Lots of girls willing take their clothes off."
"You liked this woman. You used her several times," Hermione remarked astutely.
"She had beautiful hands." Draco shrugged.
"I think you must have had a love affair with her," Hermione said with more than a touch of mischief in her voice. Draco laughed quietly.
"No, no! Just with her hands."
Hermione paused. "You have a gift, Draco. You do. You see people." She looked up at him earnestly. Draco studied her face.
"I see you, Granger," Draco said. Hermione's eyes widened.
"And…?"
"You wouldn't have jumped." Draco grabbed his sketchbook and walked away, leaving Hermione with only her books and her thoughts to occupy her.
Harry and Ron sprinted into the gates of Hogwarts. It was past five o'clock, rendering any secret passages into the school inaccessible due to all the shops in Hogsmeade being closed. The boys were sweating and panting hard as they ran up the front pathway. The reached the main entrance, ripped open the doors, and were almost sure they would be safe. Most unfortunately, Professor Snape greeted them.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasely. Let's see, a point off for every minute you were past curfew, so that's fifteen points apiece," Snape said smoothly. Harry and Ron looked at each other for a second, then both boys bolted in different directions.
"Not so fast, Potter!" Snape yelled, waving his wand as he did so, enclosing the boys in the entrance hall, which was about the size of a classroom. Harry jiggled the doorhandle to the Great Hall fruitlessly, then slammed his head against the door in frustration.
"Damnit all."
"I heard that, Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape said, gliding over to Harry. "Get over here, Weasely." Ron dragged himself over to his friend. Snape bore down on them, and seemed grow ten feet taller. Harry sighed as he watched a potrait of piglets frolicking in a haystack. He slouched and shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Do explain why you felt above the need to regard our school curfew, Mr. Potter," Snape said, the corners of his mouth twitching upward gleefully.
"Frankly, I'd rather not," Harry said, looking right into Snape's eyes.
"Well that's ten more points for your impudence. Mr. Weasley, would you care to enlighten me?" Snape snarled sarcastically.
"Um..yea…You see, Harry here was, erm, shopping, and—" Ron was cut off by Harry.
"I was shopping for a, uh, present for Ron, and because I didn't want him to see what I bought because that's, well, rude, we couldn't find each other and that's why it took so long to get back," Harry said, knowing full well that Snape wasn't buying it. He didn't show his skepticism, however. Snape mirthlessly chuckled.
"Really. Show me." Snape smiled. He had them where he wanted them.
"Alright." Harry rummaged through his pockets, stomping on Ron's foot when Ron started to say something. Harry pulled out an oblong, lacquer box with delicate flowers painted on it.
"This is it," Harry said.
"Open it," Snape said, barely audible. Harry unfastened the gold latch to reveal a splendid piece; the necklace was immortally gorgeous. A silver chain ended in a sapphire, heart-shaped pendant, surrounded by tiny princess cut diamonds. It caught the light of a thousand fires. It danced before their eyes, seemingly alive, as if it would take flight. It was a celebration of the earth itself. All three of them were momentarily mesmorized by its hypnotizing sparkle.
"And this is something you would buy for Mr. Weasley? I don't believe you, Potter. Please stop lying to me," Snape said dangerously.
"Oh but it is. See, you've gone and ruined the surprise," Harry said, doing his best to look put out.
"I, uh, think it's lovely nonetheless," Ron said, grinning, trying to play along. Snape's lip curled in disgust as he watched the scene unfold.
"Not as lovely as you, mate," Harry said, looping his arm through Ron's. "But let's save the, ah, official giving until a more private moment," Harry said seductively, raising his eyebrows.
"Of course, er, my love," Ron said. Harry leaned into Ron, kissing him on the cheek. Ron turned bright red from the colossal effort it took not to laugh. Harry turned to Snape, who was now frozen.
"Professor Snape, would it be alright if we served detention together? It would make it so much easier and productive. I know that you like to have your Bubotubers sorted exactly by size, and Ron knows just how to judge that," Harry said, certain that Fred and George couldn't have done it better.
"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!!! NOW!!!" Snape yelled, raising his wand. Harry and Ron bolted back out onto the grounds, intending to run for Hagrid's. They made it as far as the front steps before collapsing into fits of laughter.
Hermione was irked. Not only was she irritated that Malfoy left, she was angry at herself for actually caring. Glancing at her watch, Hermione realized she had planned to meet Ginny behind the quidditch pitch for a smoke five minutes ago. Hermione grabbed her bag and rushed out of the library. Yes, she thought, a smoke is just what I need.
When she got to the pitch, Hermione looked around and noticed a telltale curl of smoke coming from the usual booth Ginny smoked behind. Hermione jogged over, reached her hand in her pocket, and realized that she was all out of cigarettes.
"Damn," She muttered. "Hey, Ginny," Hermione waved as she saw her friend.
"Hey," Ginny said, looking into the sky as she blew out a puff of smoke. Ginny had one arm crossed, the other resting on top of it as it held her cigarette. Hermione instantly knew something was awry as she looked at Ginny's angry, black-rimmed green eyes.
"What's wrong?" Hermione was glad to have someone else's problems to focus on.
"My mum. Again." Ginny shook her head, the bondage chains on her arms clinking gently.
"What'd she say this time?" Hermione was well aware of the letters Ginny's mom sent her every other week or so. They usually said the same thing; stop acting out, don't present such an awful image of our family, stop being disrespectful and landing yourself in detention.
"You remember when I got totally trolleyed on Halloween?" Ginny asked. Hermione nodded, remembering how drunk Ginny had been and how she had to go to Madame Pomfrey with a rather large headache the next day, causing her to arrive late and consequently fail another potions test. "Well Mum found out somehow, I think Ron told her to get back at me for my blackmailing him," Ginny continued.
"That's rubbish. What are you going to do about it?" Hermione suspected that Ron would do something like that. It only added to her annoyance at him.
"Dunno. She wrote something about how she's going to "put me on a tight leash" or something over the summer, which would really suck," Ginny shook her head again as she blew out more smoke.
"Can I bum a smoke?" Hermione asked.
"Come off it, that's the second time this week!" Ginny rolled her eyes, but gave her friend one anyway.
"I'll probably be visiting you over the summer anyways, and your mum thinks I'm alright, so maybe you won't have such a hard time. And if you do, there's always studying you could catch up on. You did fail that last potions test, you know," Hermione said with mock severity.
"And every one before it," Ginny giggled. She looked at the sky again, noticed the setting sun, and glanced her watch and sighed. "Sorry, babe, but I gotta go. I've got another detention with Snape that starts in five." Ginny threw her cigarette butt on the ground and delicately ground it into the sand with her toe.
"Bye," Hermione said as her friend hurried off. Hermione took a deep drag from her cigarette as she reveled in her solitude. Just as she was about to exhale, however, Draco Malfoy rounded the corner of the booth. His eyes flew open in surprise as Hermione started to choke, short puffs of smoke coming out of her mouth. In the process, she lost her half-finished cigarette.
"Granger? A smoker? Gods, that's foul," Malfoy sneered.
"Almost as foul as you," Hermione said, but realized too late that she had said it with mock sarcasm.
"You're forgetting that, foul as I may be, I have a right to wander around this pitch same as you," Malfoy said, turning his head up in such a way that the light caught his face, illuminating it like a renaissance painting. Hermione was temporarily at a loss for words as she scanned at his features; his beautiful jaw line, his perfect eyes, his aristocratic nose, all rimmed with the gold of the setting sun. She mentally kicked herself when she realized that she was, again, checking out Draco Malfoy.
"Just like you wander around everywhere," Hermione muttered to herself.
"That's better than smoking, now isn't it?" Malfoy teased, a grin teasing the corners of his oh-so-delicious lips.
"Don't presume to tell me that Draco Malfoy has never tried a cigarette," Hermione said, certain that her impression of Malfoy was correct.
"Actually, I haven't. It's the most disgusting thing in the world. Ever kissed a smoker?" Malfoy asked. "It's like licking an ashtray. I suggest you stop," Malfoy stated, with his trademark matter-of-factness that made Hermione want to hit him.
"Since when have you been so concerned about my well-being?" Hermione narrowed her eyes. She would NOT open up to him; she just couldn't let him penetrate her defenses. After all, it would only lead to heartbreak.
"Since I saw you try to kill yourself. Don't presume to tell me that your life is some sort of open book, either, Granger," Malfoy said. "I know you're hiding things."
"Well, so are you!" Hermione said, immediately realizing how juvenile she sounded.
"Only because you never asked," Malfoy stated simply.
"Well, I…" Hermione was momentarily taken aback. She was unused to people challenging her like this, and it simultaneously irritated and intrigued her. She decided to focus the attention on Draco instead of herself. Hermione mentally kicked herself again as she realized that she was thinking of Malfoy in terms of Draco.
"I know you spent time in Paris. So then what, Mr. Wandering Draco?" Hermione asked.
"Well, I decided to go there and see what the real artists were doing instead of hanging around London all day," Draco said. Hermione was impressed against her will.
"Where were you before London?" Hermione's curiosity was piqued.
"Ireland. They have some great local pubs there. It's where I learned to play wizards darts for money," Draco said, his eyes getting a faraway look as he reminisced.
"Like gambling?" Hermione asked innocently.
"Uh, yea," Draco said. "Only with wizard's darts, the picture you magic onto the board moves and talks, and the darts stick to everything—no matter what or who they hit," Draco grinned. "That's how I got this," he said, turning his head and pointing to a circular scar on his shoulder near his neck. Hermione was too busy marveling at the sinewy muscles beneath the scar to care what the scar looked like, though.
"Scandalous! Can you show me?" Hermione wanted to learn just so she could throw a dart at Ron the next time he got trashed. Draco raised an eyebrow, almost as if he could sense her intentions.
"Sure. If you like," he said quietly.
"I think I would," Hermione smiled.
"Well, we need a dart board first," Draco said. He magicked a dartboard onto the quidditch booth beside them, a blank circle about 20 centimeters in diameter. "What picture do you want on it?"
"Oh, I don't care," Hermione tried to sound nonchalant, but she was secretly excited.
"Alright then. Let's do…Colin Creepy," Draco said, knowing that she would not permit him to plaster Potty or the Weasel's face on it. Hermione giggled.
"Now, first things first. Aim with your eye, and follow the line you create. Like this," Draco said, magicking a little pile of darts onto the ground. He licked his lips and squinted as he aimed and threw. Several things then occurred simultaneously. As the dart hit the board with a resounding PHUT, the Creevey kid began to howl as blood trickled out of the dart point that was embedded between his eyes. Just as the Creevey kid began to howl, Hermione and Draco heard someone call out.
"Hermione? Is that you? Where are you?" Hermione recognized Lavender's voice as she quickly covered the darts on the ground with sand. Draco aimed a silencio charm at the board and sidestepped in front of it just as Lavender rounded the corner of their booth.
"Play along, Malfoy," Hermione muttered as she fell to the ground, clutching her head. "Ahh, it hurts! Lavender? I can't see very well," Hermione feigned in a weak voice.
"Gods, Hermione! What happened to you??" Lavender's mouth was open in horror as she knelt to help her friend. Suddenly she whipped her head up, and drew her wand. "You foul, evil…How could you even…?" Lavender glared at Malfoy with a look of pure hatred as she drew conclusions.
"I hit her with a stunning spell that was aimed at Hagrid's mutt," Malfoy said smoothly, smirking like his usual self. "I didn't mean to hit the witch-mutt instead, but hey, they're all mutts to me," Malfoy faked an evil grin, which Lavender didn't catch.
"Ohhh, my head," Hermione said, bringing Lavender's attention back to her.
"Shh, let's get you to Madame Pomfrey. She'll know what to do. C'mon now, easy," Lavender soothed her friend as she pulled her up. Hermione weakly let her weight pull Lavender down.
"You owe her an apology if you don't want to be expelled, you bastard," Lavender said to Malfoy.
"Fine. I'm," Draco paused dramatically, "dreadfully sorry. Here," Draco extended his hand. As Hermione took it, she felt something crush against her fist. Draco looked into her eyes as he pressed it into her hand. Hermione saw fire in his eyes, but just as quickly, they returned to their usual grey hue. She shoved the note in her pocket while she was getting up.
"Oh, and Brown? I'd be careful about what I said if I were you. You may find yourself in over your head at the Gryff versus Slytherin game tonight if you can't control yourself," Draco said in a dangerously low voice.
Lavender said nothing as she dragged Hermione away, trying to look indifferent. Hermione, however, noticed the slightest tremor in her hand that wasn't there before.