Disclaimer: Wow this is getting old . . . this goes for all the chapters after it because I am tired of trying to think of new and creative ways to write the disclaimer.

Fifteen

I was fuming with anger by the time I reached my dormitory. I had decided not to see Draco before beginning my duties. I figured that that would only make things worse. Of course, since I had spent all that time alone, I had yelled at about three people (two of which were Gryffindors) and had threatened to take points from a little first-year girl in Hufflepuff when all they had been doing was walking around. Needless to say I wasn't exactly the most popular person in the school at the moment.

"Well," I said to myself, "at least Draco will comfort me."

I was wrong.

"What the hell took you so long?" he shouted the second I walked in the door. He didn't even give me time to say hello, or to notice that Crabbe and Goyle were standing there behind him, grinning stupidly.

"I'm sorry, Draco, I just got mad because of what someone said and so I decided it would be better to not see you and get you mad at me than to see you and get into a huge fight when I wasn't really mad at you to begin with," I spurted out in one breath.

"Who were you so mad at that you couldn't talk to me?" he continued to bellow.

"None of your business," I spat. "This is exactly what I was trying to prevent."

"Nice job," he hissed. I could have shot him there if I had wanted to. And now that I was going through it, Operation Jealousy hadn't been working at all, and so I didn't really need to go out with him to begin with. Why didn't I just break up with him now?

But then I looked at him, and I realized why. Because he was hot. And I mean really hot. With his silvery-blonde hair and eyes that seemed to look straight through me to the person I really was.

I must have been looking at him funny because he said, "What are you staring at?"

"You, Draco," I said, striding over to him. "Let's finish what we started in potions . . ."

And then he kissed me. I could hear Crabbe and Goyle whooping in the background, but I didn't care. If I was going to make him really believe that I wanted to go out with him, I would have to make this convincing. It was probably the most passionate kiss I had given him, but though I enjoyed it greatly, I felt no spark.

Once we pulled away from each other, I said, "We have to get to lunch. If we walk in late, what will everyone think we were doing?"

"Let them think what they want . . ." he murmured, and he began Frenching me again. In the middle of it, though, he noticed Crabbe and Goyle staring at us and he said, "Shove off, you two! This isn't a peep show! Get out of here!"

Begrudgingly, the two of them strode out of the room, and Draco and I resumed making out, this time rolling on to the floor.

We strode into lunch hand in hand about fifteen minutes late. The second I sat down at the table next to Ron, Draco blew me a kiss. I blew him one back, giggled, and began spooning food on to my plate.

"What the bloody hell was that about?" Ron asked.

"Oh, nothing," I shrugged. Ron let out a small growl and began stuffing his face.

Lunch went on normally until Ron starting bugging me about Draco once again.

"You know, Hermione, you should really go after someone who actually likes you for you, not for your body," he said through a mouthful of food.

"What was that?" I hissed, almost choking on the food I had just swallowed.

"Oh, come on, Hermione, it's not like you haven't noticed. He doesn't really like you, he just wants you for sex," Ron said bluntly.

"He does not!" I shouted, completely offended.

"Sorry to admit it, Hermione, but Ron's right. I mean, this is Malfoy we're talking about," Harry jumped in.

"So? He's changed, I tell you! And his name's not Malfoy, it's Draco," I drawled. "You're just stooping down to his old level in calling him that."

"But Hermione, that really is his name . . ." Harry remarked.

"Yes, but would you like me to call you 'Potter' from now on?"

"Of course not. You're my friend. And calling me that is like saying that we're enemies," he said defensively.

"Well, then why do you call Draco by his last name?"

Ron rolled his eyes and said, "Because he is our enemy, stupid! Just because you're dating him doesn't mean that we have to like him!"

"No, but it does mean you should respect my choice. I chose him over everybody in this school, in this world, even, and he chose me," I said, my eyes flashing dangerously. I made sure to put a large emphasis on the word 'everybody.' "Now, either stop complaining or I'll move to the Slytherin table."

"Go ahead! No one's stopping you!" Ron yelled, pudding flying from his mouth. Some of it hit Harry in the face. Harry wiped it off gingerly as Ron mumbled, "Sorry, Harry."

"S'alright, Ron. But that wasn't the best thing to say to her . . ."

"Don't worry, Harry, I'd much prefer to sit in the company of my boyfriend than in the company of this . . . this thing!" I cried, pointing to Ron. They watched me as I stomped over to where Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle sat. Once I arrived, Draco immediately shoved Crabbe over and made room for me, slipping his arm around my waist. I felt his hand travel downward and land on my butt.

"Draco, please!" I said playfully.

"Oh, come on, baby, I'm not going to do anything . . . ." He continued to touch me.

This was too much. I slapped his hand away, like I had done that time in potions class, and said, "Draco, stop it!"

"Oh, what's the matter? Can't a guy have a little fun without being punished around here?" he asked. Just when I thought every eye in the Great Hall was on the two of us, I heard footsteps behind me.

"Leave her alone, Malfoy," Ron hissed through clenched teeth.

"Oh, look who it is, it's the Weasel! I suppose you've come to rescue her and so win fair lady's heart?" Draco hissed back. "Well, terribly sorry, Ronnie boy, but this damsel doesn't want to be rescued, now, does she?" He threw me a look as if to warn me that if I said a word, I would be in much deeper trouble than this. I said nothing.

"I told you to leave her alone," Ron repeated.

"Or you'll do what?" he sneered.

In defiance, Ron whipped out his wand and pointed it straight at Draco's throat. Draco, however, simply laughed.

"Oh, Weasley, you amuse me. Do you actually think that a spell powerful enough to hurt me will actually come out of that wand? It's the only first-hand thing you own. I truly pity you, Weasley, to sink so low as to try and go after my girl."

Ron's confidence was suddenly shattered. "What are you talking about?" he spat.

"Oh, come on, you know you have a crush on Hermione. Everyone can tell. So why don't you just stop hiding and ask her out already?" Draco sneered.

Ron looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes darted back and forth, from face to face. I just stared at him, and when we locked eyes, my heart melted. At that moment, I remembered why I had begun Operation Jealousy. What was I doing here? Why was I sitting here, with Draco's hand pretty much shoved down my skirt? And why, oh, why was I calling him Draco? I was so lost in my world that I didn't notice what was going on outside it.

"I'm not about to ask her out, Malfoy, I just want you not to hurt her."

"You're so obvious, Weasley. You like her, and you know it. But you've got to face reality, Weasley. – the good guy doesn't always get the girl. How could Hermione, such a gorgeous, smart, wonderful person, ever be interested in you? You have nothing that is all your own. You have never done anything unique or inordinary. Your family isn't exactly the richest . . . especially considering the way your robes look . . ." Draco sniggered, gesturing towards Ron's robes, which were tattered and patched in some places. "You can barely have an intelligent conversation with someone. Why would Hermione choose you when she has me as an option?"

Ron looked to Draco with a deep loathing in his eyes that I had never seen before. Sure, he had hated him, but it had never been this severe. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of jealousy, but it was gone before I could say anything.

He looked to Draco, then looked to me, then back to Draco, and to me once more. I wanted to say something, to help him out, to tell him that I loved him and I didn't really love Draco, but someone had cut my vocal chords.

Ron simply stormed away, his robes billowing out like a thunder cloud behind him that followed him everywhere he went.