Disclaimer: Agubwa! Khachaturian! Qetsiquadal! Marquesas! Amalgam!
Author's Note: Another big huge thanks and hug to all my reviewers. You are the wind beneath my wings... and my fingers as I type what seems like endlessly these days, what with having three stories in the making. Check out my other stories: Clue and Deathtrap. Neither are quite as romantic as these, but they're funnier, at least Clue is. Anyway, sorry for being an advertisement. Don't mean to be. As for the disclaimer, some of those are real words; others are total gibberish. Okie dokie, here's the next installment...
Chapter 8: Two Very Dejected Young Men
Hermione raised her head, shocked at the disturbance and held on to Draco tighter in surprise. He moaned and gasped to Hermione that she needed to get off of him in order for him to retain any manner of composure. She apologized and was presently off of him, struggling to find her feet and clothing. It took a staggering 30 seconds for the two of them to be fully dressed and Hermione quickly ran to the bathroom as Draco moved to the door. He made a gurgle from the back of his throat, testing to see if his voice would permit him to be natural to his common form. He ran a hand through his hair and opened the door slowly.
Hermione could hear his voice from the outer room and, though she could make out no words, found the tone quite enough to disclose the situation. Someone desperately wanted in and Draco was quite obstinate in not allowing entrance. To her great dismay the voice of the person in question was quite inaudible to her and she could make out no identity. Draco spoke louder and clearer with each statement and it seemed the louder he got the more muted the intruder became.
After disguising herself with a camouflaging spell, Hermione sat on the bathroom tile and pressed her face against the door, straining with all her might to hear what was going on. Once she had found a comfortable position it was no more than a few seconds until she heard the palpable sound of footsteps across the room towards the bathroom. She slid backwards with her feet, narrowly missing the door that came swinging before her.
However hard she may have endeavored to remain silent, the shock that entered the bathroom produced a gasp so clear the people on the opposite wall would have heard her. Harry Potter looked down at the tile that had just gasped and thrust out a hand, striking Hermione across the nose.
"Hermione?" he asked, grabbing on to her invisible hair.
Hermione kept quiet, struggling frantically to release herself from his hold. The more she pulled, the tighter his grasp got and she soon found that it was much more trouble to struggle than to stay still, which she eventually resolved to do.
Harry kneeled where he thought her to be, landing heavily on her foot, causing a minor discomfort for all involved.
"Hermione," Harry said gently, stroking the unseen hair and face, "please undo the spell. I want to see you."
Hermione gazed forward into the face that had always brought her such comfort and consolation, but which now seemed a frightening specter.
"Harry," she whispered, still under her spell and trying to remain still. "Harry, please don't do anything rash..."
"Rash?" he sputtered, "Rash? No, Hermione, I won't do anything rash, not until you explain to me why the bloody hell you're in my nemesis' dorm room at midnight!" The statement had begun calmly, but led into a slight crescendo and ended in a blasting roar, complete with spit and all.
"Harry," Hermione said, trying to remain calm, "I refuse to undo the spell until you calm down and let go of my hair..." after a thought she added, "and where is Draco?"
"Draco?" he continued in his dramatic bellow, "Draco! You dare to ask me about Draco?"
"Harry," Hermione sat cross-legged and assumed the tone of voice she had always used when reprimanding him for his inattentiveness in class or lack of responsibility, "there is no reason to lose your temper like this. I was merely asking a simple question that required a simple, sound answer."
Harry detached himself from her hair and sat back against the door. As he regained his breath, Hermione thought it safe to reveal herself, which she did presently. Her appearance made a bit of an impression on him, what with the blue chalk stains along her legs, arms, and neck. His jaw dropped at her wild appearance.
She stood, held out a hand to help him up and led him out to the main room only to a meet a rather unkempt Draco lying face down on the floor.
"What did you do?" she turned to Harry accusatorially.
"I hit him," he muttered softly as he fidgeted with his robe.
Hermione bent to lift Draco, who had a dazed expression on his face and smiled confusedly at Hermione.
"Sit down, Draco," she said as she led him to the couch.
"Okay," he said as he plopped down on the couch beside Harry.
Hermione performed a quick spell to return him to his normal state. He looked at Harry, obviously more than a little perturbed and then back at Hermione who stood over the two of them in a rather dictatorial manner.
"Now," she said, looking from one to another, "would you care to tell me what happened out here while I was in the bathroom?"
They both spoke simultaneously pointing fingers animatedly and making wild hand gestures to describe the events.
"Harry first," she said after silencing them.
Harry smiled contentedly.
"Well," he started, "I couldn't hardly think after you had snuck up on me in DADA this morning and I looked everywhere for you and the only thing I could think of was the fact that you had asked what Malfoy's next class was. I decided to check his place out to see if you were here. When I knocked he answered rudely, obviously, and told me to go away. He looked... disturbed... and for a moment I thought that wise as well. I mean, I'm not one to intrude on people's business," he paused for a moment to look from Draco to Hermione, gathering his thoughts once more. "Anyway, I decided to mention your name at least, in case he knew where you were. He had a decidedly suspicious reaction to your name-"
"I said I didn't know-"Draco interrupted.
"Draco," Hermione warned, then gestured to Harry to continue.
"As I was saying," Harry continued, "he seemed suspicious when I mentioned your name, so I asked if I could come in, quite calmly I might add, and he said absolutely not and tried to slam the door in my face. Well, that didn't go well, and I held it open. Obviously he was hiding something from me. So, I asked once more and he became enraged, threatening me with all sorts of curses and dangers to everyone I loved..."
"Now, wouldn't you say that's a bit of an exaggeration?" Draco asked, looking straight at Harry.
Harry shrugged and continued.
"After threatening me, he pulled his wand and, since I knew it was too late to get my wand, I punched him, knocking him flat on his face. He's kind of a wimp," Draco turned, disgusted, at the comment. Harry continued, "So, after he fell on the ground, I proceeded to look around the dorm, entering the bathroom to hear you and then discover your identity, which led us here."
Hermione stared at him, lips pursed, eyes squinted and arms crossed sardonically.
"Okay," she said after a moment, "Draco, your turn."
"Well," he said, puffing his chest and collecting his thoughts. "I opened the door, as you know, after you left for the bathroom, to see Potter. Now, Potter was quite a sight at the door- his eyes were dilated in fury and his fists were clenched- he was positively looking for a fight," he paused to let the full affect of the words sink in. "Well, after I commented that it was rather late to be storming the castle, Potter made a couple of rude remarks, none very clever, I might add, and brutally tried to force me out of the way. I held strong, telling him that it was far too late for tea time and that he could admire me in class the next day."
"Ver batum," Harry stated, sounding more or less impressed.
"Anyway, as I was saying, he continued to attempt to enter against my will until finally, hulk-like, he threw me from the door, in which I hit my head against the pool table, becoming more or less dippy. And then I woke up here on the couch, beside Hyde here, and looking up into your beautiful face." It seemed no scenario was too severe for Draco to miss the opportunity to flirt.
Hermione smiled for a moment, caught up in his silvery eyes, before being dragged from her daze by Harry.
"Hello, lover boy, that's my future wife you're talking to!" he boxed Draco across the side of the head, sending a wave of guilt through the both of them. Hermione smiled at Harry, as if assuring him he had done a noble thing.
"Well," Hermione said, considering her men, sitting on the couch, "It seems you both have quite contradicting stories and, though I'm not saying either of you lied, I have my doubts as to the full truth of both of your testaments. So, I will rely on my version of the events, which was quite simply this- Harry wanted to come in, Draco didn't want him to come in and so Harry hit him to get in... and then got in. Do we all agree on that?"
They nodded simultaneously.
"Okay, then, next on the agenda," Hermione pulled a chair forward and sat backwards, resting her chin on the back and looking at them intently. "Harry, why again are you here?"
"I wanted to see you," he said softly, his eyes rounding to the most pathetic size imaginable.
"Okay, I guess we'll take that," she said. "Now, since it's very late I think Harry should get back to bed and maybe we can continue this little conversation in the morning," she looked at Draco with her plans for the evening written plainly all over her face.
"I quite agree," Draco said, locking eyes with Hermione and pushing Harry forcefully across the room, knocking to the ground.
"Wait," Harry protested loudly, both irritated and confused by the recent and apparently impending events. "I happen to have a few questions for the two of you!"
"Sorry," Draco said, opening the door expectantly, "it'll have to wait for morning."
"Yup," Hermione said, lifting him to his feet.
"No," Harry said, shrugging Hermione violently off. "I refuse to go until I get some answers!"
Draco slowly closed the door, realizing sadly that the night was not going to end according to plan.
"Fine, Potty, sit down and ask your little questions."
Hermione sat again in her chair, facing Harry and Draco stood above her, leaning with one hand on her shoulder.
"Malfoy," Harry hissed shiftily, "I would appreciate it if you removed yourself from my fiancée."
Hermione looked up at him and nodded, to which he removed his hand, pulling up a second chair and sitting similarly to her.
"Okay," Hermione asked, "Fire away."
Harry straightened himself and smoothed his robes nervously, "Well," he said, "to start, what is that all over you?"
They looked at each other and suddenly saw the chalk marks that had looked so beautiful a mere twenty minutes before. Now, they realized the markings were more of what could be seen on a child's coloring book than the body of an Amazon queen. Hermione stiffened and stifled a small giggle. Draco smiled, quietly amused.
"Um," Hermione ran the words through her mind, and no matter how she said it, there was no way to make it sound any less silly. "It's chalk."
"What, like sidewalk chalk?" Harry asked, a look of puzzlement smearing his already edgy demeanor.
"No," Hermione said, her voice lifting slightly.
"Then..." Harry looked at the two of them, who were both clearly averting their eyes from the pool table. He looked at the table, then back at them, then back at the table. The comprehension hit like a mighty revelation dropped from the heavens, lights blazing and a thousand-voice choir resonating a single penetrating note.
"You didn't!" he spat, turning violently from one to the other. When there was no denial, he let out a wild shriek and his body convulsed momentarily before he covered his face with his arms in shame and curled into the fetal position, rocking back and forth, obviously traumatized.
"Oh dear," Draco said quietly before turning to the sink.
"What are you doing?" Hermione turned and asked him, ignoring the whimpering young man on her couch.
"Making tea," Malfoy said while placing the teapot on the stove.
Hermione shrugged and turned back to Harry, trying to grasp the situation. Okay, she thought, I've cheated on my fiancée with his mortal enemy and have been found out, feeling no remorse or guilt whatsoever. Well, a little, but not as much as I should. And now my fiancée is huddled in an inconsolable heap. Oh dear.
"Harry," Hermione cooed, "Harry, look at me."
Harry shook his head stubbornly.
"Harry..." Hermione tried to pry his hands from his face, but he would not budge, "Harry..." she got in front of him on the couch, grabbing at his hands while he waved her away. "Harry, look at me!" she shouted, demanding the attention of both men.
Harry peaked his eyes above his arms.
"Harry," Hermione said in a soft voice, "I know that what you have seen is traumatic and scarring, but I think that if we talk about it- calmly and rationally- we can work all those feelings out." She sounded like some kind of psychiatrist, working with a paranoid lunatic. "Does that sound okay?" she asked him in her preschool voice.
He nodded slowly and removed his arms from his tear-stained face and sat cross-legged on the couch, facing her, again in her chair.
"Hermione," he said, sounding much more collected, "I need to know first, before anything else, do you love him?"
Her eyes widened at the word, and behind her, she could hear several teacups plummet to the ground and shatter, followed by a shriek as the boiling hot tea splashed up on Draco's legs.
"Malfoy?" she asked.
"No," Harry said scathingly, "Mark Twain."
Hermione sucked a breath in before answering.
"No," she waved a hand in front of her as if swatting a fly, "No, I don't love Draco Malfoy." She paused a moment, staring off at her feet distantly before turning back to Harry, "That would be crazy!"
"Oh," Harry said, "So, it was just wild animal sex that drove you two together?!"
"I wouldn't call it animal," Draco said, approaching from behind and handing out the tea.
"Oh, I'm glad to hear that," Harry stammered.
"Look, Harry," Hermione said, taking one of his hands, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." The distinct lack of sincerity in her voice was a slight turn-off to Harry at the moment, "I just... didn't know what I was doing."
"How long have you been with him?" Harry asked, his mouth a pronounced bitter line.
"About two months," she said quietly.
His mouth fell open and she realized the misinterpretation.
"No," she quickly recovered, "I mean, I haven't been with him for two months, this was... basically the first time."
"And to be perfectly fair," Draco interjected, "you interrupted us before we were done, so..."
Hermione turned guiltily away from Harry.
"Are you going to keep staying here?" he asked, turning a slightly purple shade from forgetting to breathe.
"I think I have to," Hermione said, "I'm sure my parents are looking for me, this is still the perfect hide out."
Harry gathered his eyebrows sadly.
"Harry," Hermione said, "let's call the wedding off for now, huh?"
He looked up at her and after a moment nodded, his chin ruffling dejectedly as tears filled his eyes. She stood, turning from her grief-stricken friend and walking to the kitchen to refill her teacup.
"I'll see you later then," Harry said quietly, standing and fleeing the room, slamming the door behind him.
Draco approached Hermione slowly, kissing her shoulder from behind, "I'm sorry you had to go through that," he whispered softly between kisses.
"Draco," Hermione pulled away, tears brimming her eyes.
"Hermione, are you really upset about that?" he asked, taking her hands in his.
"I'm so confused," she said, making her way to the bathroom, splashing water over her face to clean it. He followed her. "I mean," she continued, "I can't see my friend hurt like that, but..." she turned to him, "I don't know about you either."
"Why don't we sleep on it?" Draco asked leading her from the bathroom and sat in bed, beckoning her to follow him.
"Could you sleep on the couch tonight?" she asked softly.
His eyes widened in disbelief, expecting any moment for Hermione to laugh and say, ha! just joking, I would love to climb into bed with your sexy body and make hot sweaty love all night long. But she didn't, and, dejectedly, he stood and slumped across the room to the couch where he spent a very upset night.
End Note: I am rather proud of this chapter, because, personally, I think it's hard to write long periods of dialogue- it gets old. But, happily, I did not get in the least bored while writing this one. I also think the length is astonishingly better than my last chapter, praise the Lord. So, I will leave you with this thought. Shoo shoo, go away, come again another day. If anyone knows where that's from, I will hug you and give you my praise, because it keeps coming to my head, and I don't know where from.