Chapter Seven:
Interruption
"Mr. Weasley," Snape said with a loathsome expression on his face. "If you want to talk now, by all means – go right ahead."
Ron was attempting to keep his comments to himself. The last thing he needed was to get a Howler from his mother and become even more embarrassed than he already was.
Snape stood at the front of the dungeon, smiling smugly. Ron had a deep feeling of dread in his stomach as he slowly walked down the aisles of desks towards him. Snape had his want in hand and whipped it out to his left, pointing it at an empty cauldron. Ron watched as Snape muttered a spell and the cauldron began filling with foamy water.
After a while, the cauldron filled to the top and the foam fizzed over the top, spilling onto the grimy tiled floor. Snape gave Ron a mocking smile.
"Ready to get dirty, Weasley?" he asked as Ron stood, dumbfounded. Where was the mop?
"But..."
"What's the matter? Get started!"
Ron had to stop himself from stuttering.
"But – Professor! What am I going to use to mop the floor?"
Snape chuckled.
"Mop? Oh no – you won't be mopping, Weasley." He tapped his want on the rim of the cauldron and a giant scrubber plopped into the murky water. Some of the water splashed up at Ron, getting his shirt wet and slippery with soap suds.
"Professor – you can't be serious?"
Snape grinned.
"Oh, I never kid. Get on your knees and start scrubbing."
Ron groaned as he rolled up his sleeves, dipping his hands into the warm, disgusting water, feeling for the scrubber.
Well, he thought to himself. At least I can have some time to sort out my thoughts. And he had a lot of thoughts. Interesting thoughts he had been pondering ever since Hermione started going out with Harry.
How could he do that to me? He thought grudgingly to himself. He and Harry had been friends for a while. In a way, Ron felt betrayed.
No, he thought finally, shaking the thoughts from his mind.
Perhaps thinking time really wasn't what he needed right then. On his hands and knees, he began scrubbing the grimy, potion-encrusted floor.
Snape sat at his desk and grinned.
"You know," he started arrogantly. "I've heard some pretty...interesting rumors about you, Weasley."
Ron said nothing, determined not to react to Snape's talking. There was a moment of silence as though Snape were waiting for Ron to say something. But, Ron didn't, so he went on as though determined to get a reaction.
"You know, rumors about Quidditch?"
Still, Ron didn't say anything. Though he knew rumors about he and Harry were lingering because of Malfoy, he tried once again to bottle his anger. Besides, he and Harry were no strangers to rumors. Snape was answered by the scratching sounds the scrubber made against the rough floor.
"It's okay, Weasley," Snape continued. "We all have out deep, dark secrets."
"Do we?" Ron snapped as he looked up.
Snape grinned.
"I know what you think I don't." he replied.
"Is that so?" Ron asked as he looked up and stopped scrubbing.
"Come on – Weasley!" Snape said as though he was exposing a secret that Ron didn't already know. "I'm not stupid."
"Neither am I." Ron replied flatly as he continued scrubbing the floor, moving to a new section of floor that wasn't clean.
Snape was getting irritated now, not getting anything from Ron. He got up from his desk and walked over to Ron, crouching beside him. Ron looked up to catch Snape's cool stare.
"I see it in your eyes."
Ron held his eyes there for a minute, then looked away.
"I don't know what you're insinuating, but I can assure you that none of it is true." he replied as he continued cleaning.
"You know, Weasley," Snape started in a hungry tone. "You don't have to scrub all the floor."
Ron looked down at his scrubber in silence. Was this some cruel joke Snape was playing on him? Was he just toying with him?
"Really, Weasley," he went on. "I kid you not. Just tell me one thing. One answer, that's all I ask. Then you can go on back to your dormitory."
Ron hesitated, then gave Snape his full attention.
"Alright. What do you want to know?"
Snape grinned wickedly.
Harry awoke slowly, first noticing a bright light, then attempting to blink it away. His nose ached because he had forgotten to remove his glasses, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He soon forgot the tiny prick when he noticed whom he was sitting with. He smiled as the events of the previous night came back to him in a wave.
Hermione was still asleep, her chest slowly rising and falling with a steady rhythm. She looked so peaceful and that made Harry happy. It had been rare to actually see Hermione happy after their last year at Hogwarts. She'd gone through a lot of stress after they left the school. Harry hadn't seen it with his own eyes until 3/4ths of the summer was over, but even when he had seen it, he still couldn't believe it.
When he had arrived at the Burrow, the Weasley's house after the first half of the summer, he had assumed everything was fine. But in reality, everything was not fine. Slowly, every few days, a new owl would come from Hermione and each seemed more and more desperate.
From what he had read, Hermione's father had become worried about what had gone on at the end of their fifth year. Hermione had arrived at the Burrow teary-eyed, saying she might not be able to come back to Hogwarts because of what had happened. Her father was fighting to keep her home at a Muggle boarding school.
Thankfully, her father had been lenient after three letters each from Ron as well as Harry and allowed her to come back to Hogwarts. She'd have to return home for the holidays.
But, Harry didn't mind. At least she was with him for most of the year.
Hermione was very warm and Harry caught himself running his fingers up and down her arm, feeling the smooth warmth of her skin. He stopped when Hermione stirred.
Her eyes squeezed shut tightly before blinking open and she smiled when she saw Harry.
"Hey," she said softly as she stretched her arms.
"Hey, sleepy head." Harry said back, taking a glance at his watch. It was pretty early to be up because there were only a few people seated at the tables in a corner of the Common Room.
"What time is it?" she asked as Harry kissed her forehead.
"About an hour before breakfast," he replied, his lips brushing against her forehead as he talked.
After a few minutes of listening to the popping of the embers in the fire, Hermione started as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
"Should we get ready?"
Harry pondered this, then nodded.
"Yeah, but not for breakfast. Why don't we go for a walk or something? It's pretty nice to go out before classes start. You know – get some fresh air and whatnot."
Hermione smiled.
"I'd like a walk." she replied as she got up, straightening her nightgown. Harry watched as she brushed her hair out of her face and started off towards the spiral staircase.
Smiling to himself, he got up and stretched, regaining the feeling in his arms and legs after sitting on the couch the whole night. He had to get dressed and thought it would be pertinent to be ready before Hermione, so started up the stairs.
As he swung his door open, he stopped. It was still quiet and he hoped he hadn't awoken anyone.
Looking around the room, he noticed that everyone except for Ron had awoken their beds terribly messy and pajamas on the floor. He crossed the room to his bed, pulling off his shirt and folding it in his hands, placing it on the scarlet comforter for the House Elves to collect.
He looked over at the bed where Ron lay and smiled. Ron looked peaceful and calm, something Harry rarely saw during the day with all the taunting he endured. Ron's right arm hung off the bed and he lay on his back, snoring very slightly. His red hair was a mess, but it usually was.
Harry pulled his robes out of his wardrobe and started to get dressed. He pulled off his pants and put on the black Hogwarts School uniform, fixing the vest so it was center on his chest. He didn't bother to fix his tie just yet. He hung it on his neck and sat on the bed, pulling his shoes out from beneath it.
As he quickly slipped them on, Ron turned on his bed and gave a deep sigh, falling deeper into sleep.
Harry wondered how bad his detention had been the night before.
I hope it wasn't too bad, he thought to himself as he continued tying his laces and then got up, fixing himself one last time before leaving the room and descending the spiral staircase.
To his surprise, Hermione was already downstairs, standing by the portrait hole waiting for him. She wore her uniform with a ribbon in her hair pulling it back. Harry liked it. It set her face off, making it the focal point of her figure.
Hermione smiled when she turned to see him approaching and reached out her hand, Harry taking it as they laced their fingers, stepping through the portrait hole.
"So," Harry started as he looked over at Hermione as they walked.
"So...what?" Hermione asked back, with a slight giggle.
Harry smiled. "Did you – I mean...did you sleep well last night?"
Hermione gave a mock look of thoughtfulness.
"Well, now that you mention it," she started, holding up a finger. "I did sleep well. I haven't had a good night's sleep in almost a week."
Harry wondered if he had made her feel more secure. He knew she made him feel secure and safe when around. He didn't like to admit it, but in a way he needed Hermione, and he was sure she needed him just as much. She gave his hand a squeeze and he returned it.
They descended the marble staircase to the entrance hall of the school, passing by Nearly Headless Nick, one of the Gryffindor ghosts, who tipped his head to them. This usually turned Hermione's stomach, but today it didn't seem to phase her.
They exited the large entrance doors and down the stone steps to the grounds. A heavy mist lingered over the well-kept lawns that swept the castle grounds. The mist hit Harry's face and he liked the cool compared to the heat and mugginess of the Common Room.
"So," Hermione started after they had walked a little ways away from the school towards the Quidditch Pitch. "Where are we headed?"
Harry shrugged.
"Beats me –"he started playfully, receiving a shove from Hermione which made him laugh. "Hey! I know where we're going."
"Where then?" asked Hermione curiously.
"Well, it was going to be a secret, but I know this spot where you can see the mountains –"
"Mountains?" Hermione exclaimed excitedly, surprising Harry. "Oh, Harry! I love the mountains! I remember going on vacation and wishing I could climb them." Harry nodded. "From my house, I can see the mountains off on the horizon. I wake up to them every morning during the summer."
Harry led her off the path towards the Quidditch Pitch where a circle of large stands was erected, allowing the students of Hogwarts School to view the game of Quidditch played on broomsticks. Harry had seen the mountains countless times while flying during practice and never thought he'd be bringing Hermione to the stands to look at them.
"So, where can we see them?" Hermione asked.
Harry looked over at her and smiled.
"From the Quidditch stands. You know that really tall tower where Lee Jordan always announces the game from?" Hermione nodded. "Well, really – students aren't allowed up there. But, since I'm on a team, I have the privilege."
Hermione moved closer to him as they walked, giving his hand a squeeze as they neared the pitch.
They were just a few feet away when they heard someone call Hermione's name.
"Granger! Granger!"
Hermione turned to spot someone running towards them.
"Who's that?" Harry asked, squinting to make out who it was.
Hermione caught a glimpse of blonde as the figure got closer and she groaned, rolling her eyes.
"Malfoy." she said in an annoyed tone filled with hatred.
Malfoy finally caught up to them, getting a glare from Harry while he caught his breath. His hair was messy once again and he was wearing his Slytheirn uniform untidily, his vest riding up his chest from running and his tie undone.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked as she felt Harry give her hand a squeeze of comfort.
Between huffs and puffs, Malfoy started to spit out sentences. "Holy cow, Granger...what a Hell of a time I've had tracking you down...probably asked a million people in the Great Hall!"
Hermione tapped her foot on the grass impatiently.
"Look – if this is about the project –"
Malfoy nodded and cut in.
"Yeah – it is. Trust me. Why would I talk to you about anything else in public?"
This made Harry mad and he took a step forward, but Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
"Harry, let it go."
"Look, sorry to get your boyfriend all out of whack, but we really need to get this done."
"It was just assigned yesterday, Malfoy." Harry said in protest. "Give her a break. You have three weeks to do this!"
"Well..." Malfoy said, as though contemplating what he was going to use as an excuse. "No sense in procrastinating, Potter. I know you and Finnigan no doubt will. Well, I won't this time. I need this grade and why in the world am I actually talking to you?"
This caught Harry and he shook his head, not knowing the answer either.
"Well, anyway. I need to talk to Granger – in private, if you don't mind. It's not like I'm stealing her from you."
Harry frowned, looking at Hermione. "But, what about our..."
"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione said as she took a few steps towards Malfoy, turning to face Harry. "We'll do it some other time. We only have about ten minutes before breakfast anyway." And after having said that, she gave Harry a quick kiss on the cheek and started off with Malfoy, following him around the Quidditch Pitch.
I can't believe I just had a conversation with Potter! Draco said as he led Hermione away from the path around the large fabric-covered Quidditch stands so that they wouldn't be overheard. He didn't even want to imagine what would happen if he were seen by anybody in his own house while talking to Granger the Mudblood.
Hermione followed behind him reluctantly until he was finally satisfied with their locale and stopped to face her.
"Look, Granger. We're agreed that we want to spend as little time on this project as possible, right?"
Hermione nodded. "As long as it's good quality." she added, and Malfoy nodded.
Malfoy brought his hand up to his neck and massaged it, hoping he didn't look too nervous.
But I am nervous! He thought angrily to himself. Why was he so on edge talking to Hermione? She wasn't any big deal, anyway. He felt his knees shaking slightly, and he hoped it wasn't obvious.
"Well, the reason I wanted to talk to you was – I wanted to know what we were doing. You know – research dates and all that."
Hermione looked a little puzzled before replying, "Since when have you been so interested in research? I've hardly ever seen you in the Library unless someone forced you in there or you had someone to taunt."
Malfoy was a little taken back by this statement and a little hurt, but he brushed that away quickly. Why am I so stupid? He asked himself. Did it matter if Granger thought he was mean and had poor study habits?
No, he concluded and listened on, trying to look like his normal tough self.
"Anyway," she went on. "I was thinking that maybe we could go talk to Hagrid after his class and see if he'd let us take a look in his garden."
Malfoy scowled. He couldn't help it. Hagrid was like a bad day for him. He was pushover nice as well.
Hermione caught his scowl and frowned. "Why do you hate Hagrid so much?" she asked, a look of curiosity worked into her brown eyes now.
Malfoy started talking on instinct, not thinking about what he was saying, regretting it afterwards. "How can you possibly expect me to like that great big idiot? All he does is pull our society down with his stupidity."
Hermione looked hurt this time.
"Look..." Malfoy said, hoping he could mend things a little so they could still do their project without hostility. "I'm sorry. I have this thing – it's kind of like a curse, really. I just spit out what I think without actually...thinking."
This did nothing to sway Hermione's reaction.
"Well, that's no excuse to go badmouthing my friends!" Malfoy could see that there were tears brewing in her eyes, and for once he actually felt sorry. Whether he showed it or not, he'd never know because Hermione turned on her heel and started walking back around the pitch.
"No – Granger, wait!"
"Leave me alone, Malfoy." she said over her shoulder.
"No! Give me a second –"
He grabbed her arm and she twisted around and slapped him. This caught him by surprise and he stepped back, his hand to his cheek.
Hermione glared at him, breathing heavily with anger.
"Listen, you foul excuse for a member of the wizarding community! I have had it up to here with you for the past five years! Why can't you get along with other people?" She gave an irritated groan. "I think you're nothing but a little snot who can't feel good about himself, so you pick on other people to get satisfaction in your own life."
Malfoy felt a little hurt at this, but he knew it was somewhat true.
"Is that what you really think of me, Granger?" he asked, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to pour over his pale cheeks due to the sting where she had slapped him.
Hermione looked down, as though thinking this over. Then, after a while, replied, "Yes, Malfoy. That's what I really think."
And with that, she turned on her heel and stomped off around the pitch where Harry was waiting for her. Malfoy watched as he took her hand and comforted her with conversation as they made their way back up to the school. He just stood there watching them until finally they disappeared into the mist.
Now alone, he leaned against one of the posts of the Quidditch stands and started to sob.
Well, you stupid git, he thought angrily to himself. You blew it again. Nice job.
Why did he always do that? He always did that.
You'll never get Granger to work on that project with you now.
He wouldn't be surprised if she expected him to do it all by himself and hand it in with both their names on it. But, he didn't want to do that. Who would?
He felt so bad about what he'd done that he kept running solutions to the problem through his head. All the what ifs and maybes swirling around in his mind as he tried to figure out a way he could mend what he had broken between he and Hermione.
"Maybe I should just give up," he said finally, his breath fanning out in front of him. "Maybe I'll never be able to have friends besides the ones my father pays off."
He slid to the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest as he sobbed.
It's hopeless, he thought to himself as he cried.
Completely hopeless.
Interruption
"Mr. Weasley," Snape said with a loathsome expression on his face. "If you want to talk now, by all means – go right ahead."
Ron was attempting to keep his comments to himself. The last thing he needed was to get a Howler from his mother and become even more embarrassed than he already was.
Snape stood at the front of the dungeon, smiling smugly. Ron had a deep feeling of dread in his stomach as he slowly walked down the aisles of desks towards him. Snape had his want in hand and whipped it out to his left, pointing it at an empty cauldron. Ron watched as Snape muttered a spell and the cauldron began filling with foamy water.
After a while, the cauldron filled to the top and the foam fizzed over the top, spilling onto the grimy tiled floor. Snape gave Ron a mocking smile.
"Ready to get dirty, Weasley?" he asked as Ron stood, dumbfounded. Where was the mop?
"But..."
"What's the matter? Get started!"
Ron had to stop himself from stuttering.
"But – Professor! What am I going to use to mop the floor?"
Snape chuckled.
"Mop? Oh no – you won't be mopping, Weasley." He tapped his want on the rim of the cauldron and a giant scrubber plopped into the murky water. Some of the water splashed up at Ron, getting his shirt wet and slippery with soap suds.
"Professor – you can't be serious?"
Snape grinned.
"Oh, I never kid. Get on your knees and start scrubbing."
Ron groaned as he rolled up his sleeves, dipping his hands into the warm, disgusting water, feeling for the scrubber.
Well, he thought to himself. At least I can have some time to sort out my thoughts. And he had a lot of thoughts. Interesting thoughts he had been pondering ever since Hermione started going out with Harry.
How could he do that to me? He thought grudgingly to himself. He and Harry had been friends for a while. In a way, Ron felt betrayed.
No, he thought finally, shaking the thoughts from his mind.
Perhaps thinking time really wasn't what he needed right then. On his hands and knees, he began scrubbing the grimy, potion-encrusted floor.
Snape sat at his desk and grinned.
"You know," he started arrogantly. "I've heard some pretty...interesting rumors about you, Weasley."
Ron said nothing, determined not to react to Snape's talking. There was a moment of silence as though Snape were waiting for Ron to say something. But, Ron didn't, so he went on as though determined to get a reaction.
"You know, rumors about Quidditch?"
Still, Ron didn't say anything. Though he knew rumors about he and Harry were lingering because of Malfoy, he tried once again to bottle his anger. Besides, he and Harry were no strangers to rumors. Snape was answered by the scratching sounds the scrubber made against the rough floor.
"It's okay, Weasley," Snape continued. "We all have out deep, dark secrets."
"Do we?" Ron snapped as he looked up.
Snape grinned.
"I know what you think I don't." he replied.
"Is that so?" Ron asked as he looked up and stopped scrubbing.
"Come on – Weasley!" Snape said as though he was exposing a secret that Ron didn't already know. "I'm not stupid."
"Neither am I." Ron replied flatly as he continued scrubbing the floor, moving to a new section of floor that wasn't clean.
Snape was getting irritated now, not getting anything from Ron. He got up from his desk and walked over to Ron, crouching beside him. Ron looked up to catch Snape's cool stare.
"I see it in your eyes."
Ron held his eyes there for a minute, then looked away.
"I don't know what you're insinuating, but I can assure you that none of it is true." he replied as he continued cleaning.
"You know, Weasley," Snape started in a hungry tone. "You don't have to scrub all the floor."
Ron looked down at his scrubber in silence. Was this some cruel joke Snape was playing on him? Was he just toying with him?
"Really, Weasley," he went on. "I kid you not. Just tell me one thing. One answer, that's all I ask. Then you can go on back to your dormitory."
Ron hesitated, then gave Snape his full attention.
"Alright. What do you want to know?"
Snape grinned wickedly.
Harry awoke slowly, first noticing a bright light, then attempting to blink it away. His nose ached because he had forgotten to remove his glasses, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He soon forgot the tiny prick when he noticed whom he was sitting with. He smiled as the events of the previous night came back to him in a wave.
Hermione was still asleep, her chest slowly rising and falling with a steady rhythm. She looked so peaceful and that made Harry happy. It had been rare to actually see Hermione happy after their last year at Hogwarts. She'd gone through a lot of stress after they left the school. Harry hadn't seen it with his own eyes until 3/4ths of the summer was over, but even when he had seen it, he still couldn't believe it.
When he had arrived at the Burrow, the Weasley's house after the first half of the summer, he had assumed everything was fine. But in reality, everything was not fine. Slowly, every few days, a new owl would come from Hermione and each seemed more and more desperate.
From what he had read, Hermione's father had become worried about what had gone on at the end of their fifth year. Hermione had arrived at the Burrow teary-eyed, saying she might not be able to come back to Hogwarts because of what had happened. Her father was fighting to keep her home at a Muggle boarding school.
Thankfully, her father had been lenient after three letters each from Ron as well as Harry and allowed her to come back to Hogwarts. She'd have to return home for the holidays.
But, Harry didn't mind. At least she was with him for most of the year.
Hermione was very warm and Harry caught himself running his fingers up and down her arm, feeling the smooth warmth of her skin. He stopped when Hermione stirred.
Her eyes squeezed shut tightly before blinking open and she smiled when she saw Harry.
"Hey," she said softly as she stretched her arms.
"Hey, sleepy head." Harry said back, taking a glance at his watch. It was pretty early to be up because there were only a few people seated at the tables in a corner of the Common Room.
"What time is it?" she asked as Harry kissed her forehead.
"About an hour before breakfast," he replied, his lips brushing against her forehead as he talked.
After a few minutes of listening to the popping of the embers in the fire, Hermione started as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
"Should we get ready?"
Harry pondered this, then nodded.
"Yeah, but not for breakfast. Why don't we go for a walk or something? It's pretty nice to go out before classes start. You know – get some fresh air and whatnot."
Hermione smiled.
"I'd like a walk." she replied as she got up, straightening her nightgown. Harry watched as she brushed her hair out of her face and started off towards the spiral staircase.
Smiling to himself, he got up and stretched, regaining the feeling in his arms and legs after sitting on the couch the whole night. He had to get dressed and thought it would be pertinent to be ready before Hermione, so started up the stairs.
As he swung his door open, he stopped. It was still quiet and he hoped he hadn't awoken anyone.
Looking around the room, he noticed that everyone except for Ron had awoken their beds terribly messy and pajamas on the floor. He crossed the room to his bed, pulling off his shirt and folding it in his hands, placing it on the scarlet comforter for the House Elves to collect.
He looked over at the bed where Ron lay and smiled. Ron looked peaceful and calm, something Harry rarely saw during the day with all the taunting he endured. Ron's right arm hung off the bed and he lay on his back, snoring very slightly. His red hair was a mess, but it usually was.
Harry pulled his robes out of his wardrobe and started to get dressed. He pulled off his pants and put on the black Hogwarts School uniform, fixing the vest so it was center on his chest. He didn't bother to fix his tie just yet. He hung it on his neck and sat on the bed, pulling his shoes out from beneath it.
As he quickly slipped them on, Ron turned on his bed and gave a deep sigh, falling deeper into sleep.
Harry wondered how bad his detention had been the night before.
I hope it wasn't too bad, he thought to himself as he continued tying his laces and then got up, fixing himself one last time before leaving the room and descending the spiral staircase.
To his surprise, Hermione was already downstairs, standing by the portrait hole waiting for him. She wore her uniform with a ribbon in her hair pulling it back. Harry liked it. It set her face off, making it the focal point of her figure.
Hermione smiled when she turned to see him approaching and reached out her hand, Harry taking it as they laced their fingers, stepping through the portrait hole.
"So," Harry started as he looked over at Hermione as they walked.
"So...what?" Hermione asked back, with a slight giggle.
Harry smiled. "Did you – I mean...did you sleep well last night?"
Hermione gave a mock look of thoughtfulness.
"Well, now that you mention it," she started, holding up a finger. "I did sleep well. I haven't had a good night's sleep in almost a week."
Harry wondered if he had made her feel more secure. He knew she made him feel secure and safe when around. He didn't like to admit it, but in a way he needed Hermione, and he was sure she needed him just as much. She gave his hand a squeeze and he returned it.
They descended the marble staircase to the entrance hall of the school, passing by Nearly Headless Nick, one of the Gryffindor ghosts, who tipped his head to them. This usually turned Hermione's stomach, but today it didn't seem to phase her.
They exited the large entrance doors and down the stone steps to the grounds. A heavy mist lingered over the well-kept lawns that swept the castle grounds. The mist hit Harry's face and he liked the cool compared to the heat and mugginess of the Common Room.
"So," Hermione started after they had walked a little ways away from the school towards the Quidditch Pitch. "Where are we headed?"
Harry shrugged.
"Beats me –"he started playfully, receiving a shove from Hermione which made him laugh. "Hey! I know where we're going."
"Where then?" asked Hermione curiously.
"Well, it was going to be a secret, but I know this spot where you can see the mountains –"
"Mountains?" Hermione exclaimed excitedly, surprising Harry. "Oh, Harry! I love the mountains! I remember going on vacation and wishing I could climb them." Harry nodded. "From my house, I can see the mountains off on the horizon. I wake up to them every morning during the summer."
Harry led her off the path towards the Quidditch Pitch where a circle of large stands was erected, allowing the students of Hogwarts School to view the game of Quidditch played on broomsticks. Harry had seen the mountains countless times while flying during practice and never thought he'd be bringing Hermione to the stands to look at them.
"So, where can we see them?" Hermione asked.
Harry looked over at her and smiled.
"From the Quidditch stands. You know that really tall tower where Lee Jordan always announces the game from?" Hermione nodded. "Well, really – students aren't allowed up there. But, since I'm on a team, I have the privilege."
Hermione moved closer to him as they walked, giving his hand a squeeze as they neared the pitch.
They were just a few feet away when they heard someone call Hermione's name.
"Granger! Granger!"
Hermione turned to spot someone running towards them.
"Who's that?" Harry asked, squinting to make out who it was.
Hermione caught a glimpse of blonde as the figure got closer and she groaned, rolling her eyes.
"Malfoy." she said in an annoyed tone filled with hatred.
Malfoy finally caught up to them, getting a glare from Harry while he caught his breath. His hair was messy once again and he was wearing his Slytheirn uniform untidily, his vest riding up his chest from running and his tie undone.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked as she felt Harry give her hand a squeeze of comfort.
Between huffs and puffs, Malfoy started to spit out sentences. "Holy cow, Granger...what a Hell of a time I've had tracking you down...probably asked a million people in the Great Hall!"
Hermione tapped her foot on the grass impatiently.
"Look – if this is about the project –"
Malfoy nodded and cut in.
"Yeah – it is. Trust me. Why would I talk to you about anything else in public?"
This made Harry mad and he took a step forward, but Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
"Harry, let it go."
"Look, sorry to get your boyfriend all out of whack, but we really need to get this done."
"It was just assigned yesterday, Malfoy." Harry said in protest. "Give her a break. You have three weeks to do this!"
"Well..." Malfoy said, as though contemplating what he was going to use as an excuse. "No sense in procrastinating, Potter. I know you and Finnigan no doubt will. Well, I won't this time. I need this grade and why in the world am I actually talking to you?"
This caught Harry and he shook his head, not knowing the answer either.
"Well, anyway. I need to talk to Granger – in private, if you don't mind. It's not like I'm stealing her from you."
Harry frowned, looking at Hermione. "But, what about our..."
"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione said as she took a few steps towards Malfoy, turning to face Harry. "We'll do it some other time. We only have about ten minutes before breakfast anyway." And after having said that, she gave Harry a quick kiss on the cheek and started off with Malfoy, following him around the Quidditch Pitch.
I can't believe I just had a conversation with Potter! Draco said as he led Hermione away from the path around the large fabric-covered Quidditch stands so that they wouldn't be overheard. He didn't even want to imagine what would happen if he were seen by anybody in his own house while talking to Granger the Mudblood.
Hermione followed behind him reluctantly until he was finally satisfied with their locale and stopped to face her.
"Look, Granger. We're agreed that we want to spend as little time on this project as possible, right?"
Hermione nodded. "As long as it's good quality." she added, and Malfoy nodded.
Malfoy brought his hand up to his neck and massaged it, hoping he didn't look too nervous.
But I am nervous! He thought angrily to himself. Why was he so on edge talking to Hermione? She wasn't any big deal, anyway. He felt his knees shaking slightly, and he hoped it wasn't obvious.
"Well, the reason I wanted to talk to you was – I wanted to know what we were doing. You know – research dates and all that."
Hermione looked a little puzzled before replying, "Since when have you been so interested in research? I've hardly ever seen you in the Library unless someone forced you in there or you had someone to taunt."
Malfoy was a little taken back by this statement and a little hurt, but he brushed that away quickly. Why am I so stupid? He asked himself. Did it matter if Granger thought he was mean and had poor study habits?
No, he concluded and listened on, trying to look like his normal tough self.
"Anyway," she went on. "I was thinking that maybe we could go talk to Hagrid after his class and see if he'd let us take a look in his garden."
Malfoy scowled. He couldn't help it. Hagrid was like a bad day for him. He was pushover nice as well.
Hermione caught his scowl and frowned. "Why do you hate Hagrid so much?" she asked, a look of curiosity worked into her brown eyes now.
Malfoy started talking on instinct, not thinking about what he was saying, regretting it afterwards. "How can you possibly expect me to like that great big idiot? All he does is pull our society down with his stupidity."
Hermione looked hurt this time.
"Look..." Malfoy said, hoping he could mend things a little so they could still do their project without hostility. "I'm sorry. I have this thing – it's kind of like a curse, really. I just spit out what I think without actually...thinking."
This did nothing to sway Hermione's reaction.
"Well, that's no excuse to go badmouthing my friends!" Malfoy could see that there were tears brewing in her eyes, and for once he actually felt sorry. Whether he showed it or not, he'd never know because Hermione turned on her heel and started walking back around the pitch.
"No – Granger, wait!"
"Leave me alone, Malfoy." she said over her shoulder.
"No! Give me a second –"
He grabbed her arm and she twisted around and slapped him. This caught him by surprise and he stepped back, his hand to his cheek.
Hermione glared at him, breathing heavily with anger.
"Listen, you foul excuse for a member of the wizarding community! I have had it up to here with you for the past five years! Why can't you get along with other people?" She gave an irritated groan. "I think you're nothing but a little snot who can't feel good about himself, so you pick on other people to get satisfaction in your own life."
Malfoy felt a little hurt at this, but he knew it was somewhat true.
"Is that what you really think of me, Granger?" he asked, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to pour over his pale cheeks due to the sting where she had slapped him.
Hermione looked down, as though thinking this over. Then, after a while, replied, "Yes, Malfoy. That's what I really think."
And with that, she turned on her heel and stomped off around the pitch where Harry was waiting for her. Malfoy watched as he took her hand and comforted her with conversation as they made their way back up to the school. He just stood there watching them until finally they disappeared into the mist.
Now alone, he leaned against one of the posts of the Quidditch stands and started to sob.
Well, you stupid git, he thought angrily to himself. You blew it again. Nice job.
Why did he always do that? He always did that.
You'll never get Granger to work on that project with you now.
He wouldn't be surprised if she expected him to do it all by himself and hand it in with both their names on it. But, he didn't want to do that. Who would?
He felt so bad about what he'd done that he kept running solutions to the problem through his head. All the what ifs and maybes swirling around in his mind as he tried to figure out a way he could mend what he had broken between he and Hermione.
"Maybe I should just give up," he said finally, his breath fanning out in front of him. "Maybe I'll never be able to have friends besides the ones my father pays off."
He slid to the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest as he sobbed.
It's hopeless, he thought to himself as he cried.
Completely hopeless.