"It is no laughing matter. A friend of mine took a Chinese fighting muffin to the chest. He went home in four zip-lock bags."
Bill Murray, "Charlie's Angels"
Hermione sat in the crowded Hospital Wing. The usual cut-and-bruise patients went in and out. Professor Eddington had come to visit briefly. Ron, being the silly bugger he was, chased her out again. It was lucky he did really; Hermione was Eddington's fifth accident in a week. Madame Pomfrey was ready to throw curses. It was quite funny actually. Madame Pomfrey went through her complaint routine every time she looked at Hermione.
"That woman should be fired, and soon," she said, handing a tray of potions to Ron to hold. She dipped a cloth in a bubbling purple potion and dabbed at Hermione's wounds. "If only the position wasn't so hard to fill." She finished her work and changed to a new cloth. This time is was blue. Hermione could smell the bamboo stalk.
"Hair growth potion, finally." She said. "My head was starting to freeze."
"There's no way to control this Miss Granger." Madame Pomfrey said. Hermione nodded.
"What do you mean, 'no way to control'?" Ron said, taking Hermione's hand. Hermione turned to him, sure she was giving her trademarked 'honestly, Ron' look.
"I'm sure you did fine." Hermione said, as Madame Pomfrey laid the cloth over her head. She sat still for a moment. The slight prickling sensation grew into a kind of pulling. She suddenly knew what needlework felt like, having thread pulled through tiny holes. She felt the cloth flop off of her head and hit the floor with a squelch.
"Bloody hell."
"Now Ron, there is no reason to swear. It may be a bit puffy now…"
"And pink."
"…but that doesn't… Pink?"
Ron picked up a silver plate, tipping the food scraps off onto the floor. Madame Pomfrey didn't even blink. Hermione felt the worry surge within her. Nobody dirtied Madame Pomfrey's floor.
"Look."
And look she did. At first she didn't notice too much. Her hair was all of a tolerably similar length, and the front was brown. She tilted her head a little and saw exactly the problem. A bright, ballet pink clump had grown out from her bald patch. She pushed the plate away and turned slowly to Madame Pomfrey. Calm Hermione, easy does it; it was just a little too much Mimicker DNA, that's all. "May I have my wand, please?"
As Ron handed Hermione her wand, his face still glued into a flabbergasted expression, a tiny voice could be heard under his chair. "…Making a mess, Dobby must clean Hogwarts alone…"
Hermione raised her wand to her head. Madame Pomfrey helped to position the point into the centre of the pink. Lavender and Parvati did the spell all the time in the Dorm room, too much for Hermione's liking. But, being one of those spells one learns in Young Witch Fashion magazine and not worth much, Hermione knew it only through the pair. She aimed carefully and spoke, her usual air of confidence forced from every movement. "Fulvo mūtātiō."
"Hermione, put in back. Right now."
"I just wanted to see if I'd wasted my time."
"You're always a waste of time, Malfoy."
"Shut up, Potter. I lost my fingertips to that Mimicker; it'd be a shame if she died. An awful waste of blood." Draco made appoint on showing his mutilated fingers. They were all scarred. They looked like they'd been nibbled by rats. He was proud of those fingers too. "By the way, Potter, have you noticed- fate seems to be entirely against Gryffindor getting the cup this year."
Potter's face dropped suddenly and they both stopped walking.
"What are you on about, Malfoy?"
Draco drew himself up to his full height; this was going to be fun. "You see Potter, somehow all of the rubies in your hourglass have disappeared."
"What did you do Malfoy?" Potter retorted as they started walking again. Draco laughed.
"Me? Why would I do a thing like that? Fate obviously wants Slytherin to…" He broke off suddenly as he pushed on the hospital wing door. Every bed, side table and patient was covered in shining green emeralds. None had hit the floor, and didn't seem to want to. Hermione was picking them off one by one and dropping them. Upon hitting the floor each burst suddenly into a small sprig of some sort.
"What in Merlin's name is going on in the school?" Madame Pomfrey called out, wiping a pile of emeralds from Hermione's side table. Draco shuffled in to the room, uprooting some saplings along the way.
"Do you think someone's trying to tell us something?" Draco said to Hermione. She simply stared back at him, her face showing she believed he had no right to be there. He supposed he didn't really. But then he was visiting an old friend- he was quite fond of those emeralds. He kicked at a sapling that was winding its way toward his foot and sat down on the end of her bed, helping himself to a get-well chocolate frog.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"
"Well Weasel, I didn't see you there."
"Has Lucy finished her painting?" Hermione said to Potter. Obviously trying not to start a scene. Smart girl, Weasley didn't stand a chance. Draco couldn't care less who Lucy was really.
"No, still going on the second panel. It's going to take a while, Hermione."
"Is that red-haired woman back yet?" Draco took a step back, trying to be inconspicuous was never his strong point, but he tried.
Potter sat down on the end of Hermione's bed. He let out a sigh and turned to Weasley quickly before answering. "Nobody knows what you're talking about, Hermione. Ginny says she saw someone walk through an under-painting, but she thinks it was just Marietta or something."
Hermione looked past Potter and straight at Draco. There was something in her eyes that was almost touching. He'd seen that look on Pansy's face when she really wanted him to go to the Yule ball with him, or convince Blaise that Valentines Day wasn't just a silly Muggle thing. That face Draco couldn't resist.
"Draco knows what I mean, don't you Draco?" The pleading face spoke. It really wasn't fair, how did girls do that all the time?
"You mean the voice talking to Cadogan?"
"No, the woman talking to Tim McCallum." Hermione looked like she'd been trying to convince the boys of this for a while. "She's in the painting in Gryffindor Tower."
"Harry, do Mimickers cause hallucinations too?" Weasley asked. Somehow, Draco though they just might. He turned and walked toward the door of the hospital wing, unsure what to answer. Somewhere deep down he thought it was possible that Tim's aunt was at the wedding. Then again it was also possible Tim was a crazy little git talking to paintings. Draco was confused, and despite Hermione's protests and what sounded like held back sobs, he kept walking. As he stepped through the door, kicking a stray sprig away from himself absently, he thought he heard a voice.
"You know you saw me."
Hermione was finally allowed breakfast in the Great Hall Saturday morning, although she was to return straight to the Hospital Wing when she was done. She sat now with her back to the masses of students, facing only Harry and the Slytherin table, hiding her still healing face behind a large ceramic jug of milk. The bandage patches that covered the still festering wounds felt like peeling skin, and she longed to tear them off. The wounds that had sealed were scarring up nicely, though she'd be stuck with them forever. Ron sat down beside Harry, carrying Harry's broomstick.
"You really are lucky Harry." Ron was still gushing over the stupid broom. It had been four years! Couldn't he just acknowledge it was a broom and move on with his life.
"Pass me those muffins would you Ron, and the cheese." Hermione had developed a liking for cheese and tomato on old English muffins lately. Madame Pomfrey had given it to her once. "So have you had a look for the woman in the painting yet?"
Ron and Harry exchanged glances. This was not going to be good. "Well, we looked Hermione, really we did." Ron twisted his face into a look of confusion and concern. "All we saw this morning was a whole heap of dancers scrambling into position."
"For some reason they refuse to sleep where they are and have to partition the canvas." Harry added, passing the cheese. "Except you and Malfoy. I think the painting you is missing a few brains."
"Are you sure it wasn't just some student you didn't know Hermione? It's possible that this year may just go as planned. I know it's rare, but it's possible."
Harry passed the muffins when it was clear Ron wasn't going to. Hermione added a slice of bacon to her newly acquired breakfast. "Ron, please, it's been, what, six months since Voldemort's gone and done pretty much anything. Hogwarts has become a living tribute to Fred and George and the House Elves are missing, this is clearly not as planned."
"I still think it's SPEW that's got the House Elves in a rut." Ron said, folding his arms roughly. He was eying her muffin; he wasn't going to get it. A dark haired Ravenclaw girl reached forward and took an apple from the Gryffindor pile. A brief 'excuse me' touched the edge of Hermione's consciousness.
"Ron, please, I am not going to say it again. I did not incite a revolt!" She was yelling before she could stop herself. She took a bite out of her breakfast. The cheese was just starting to melt.
"Well someone did!"
"Dobby said that they were trapped somewhere," Hermione retorted. "Obviously someone put a vanishing cabinet in the laundry or something." She took another bite. This argument was won.
"Who would do that? That stupid little Slytherin git? WOULD YOU PUT THAT BLOODY MUFFIN DOWN?" Ron was vying for attention. She didn't much care. There was movement from the Slytherin table and the odd snicker. One figure, however was not watching the Weasley uproar.
"Sorry, Hermione, I don't know what…"
"Shut up Ron, I'm thinking." Hermione watched as Draco Malfoy followed the Ravenclaw girl out of the hall with his eyes, a frown plastered on his face. He stood and walked out of the hall, his cronies still preoccupied with playacting a lover's tiff. Something clicked in Hermione's consciousness that seemed obvious all along. Something she should have worked out from the very beginning. She put the muffin in her mouth, stood up and made her way out of the hall. He followed the shadow of Draco around a corner, glancing through paintings as she went.
She wasn't very far from her intended target when she saw her. The redhead looked down at Hermione from a painted scene; none of the wizards painted within seemed to mind her presence. The girl gave a small smile and continued on in the direction Draco had taken. Hermione was in half a mind to follow; to be sure Draco was alright.
"No, Hermione, no, it's her fault you feel like this and you have to do something about it." Hermione held her own hand as if it could stop her moving. "Now think Hermione, where did you first see her? And what did you…" Hermione caught herself thinking aloud. She knew what she had to do- it had to work, didn't it? Hermione turned herself around and barrel toward the marble stairs. She clipped past Ron and Harry as they headed out toward the pitch for Quidditch. She vaguely heard them call after her but didn't really care. She had to get to the common room; she had to get rid of it somehow.
She mounted the stairs with all the grace of a drunk, constipated hippopotamus dancing in jelly, and slammed into a few students and the odd coat of arms on her way. She reached the fat lady, and with a huff recited the password. "Amorum Terminum. By Merlin I hope so." She said as she scrambled through the opening. Was this right? Was the painting forcing love on her and Draco Malfoy? Draco the complete git Malfoy? Was that magic possible? Hermione flopped her way out of the hole and lunged toward the currently finished painting. Lucy was still working on the second portion, the dresses and robes taking shape in all their painted glory. Hermione jumped onto the overstuffed chair beside the fire and tore at the painting on the wall. She flipped the frame in her hands and took the canvas from it, the fabric flexible in its un-stretched form beneath layers of paint. The occupants were squealing and demanding to be put down. She heard her own voice protesting that damage of property was against school rules. Lucy-the real one- was protesting loudest of all.
"Excuse me? What do you think you're doing?" Lucy abandoned her painting and came after Hermione. She paid no heed and headed toward the Gryffindor girls' bathroom. She threw open a cubicle door and with the hardest swing she could, threw the rolled up painting into the bowl of the toilet. She pulled the chain with a groan, suddenly noticing the stream of tears that poured down her face.
She was cold. Too cold, and the world was rushing by her in torrents of swirling water.
"Stop!" Draco called after the girl. He'd had enough of her, truly he had. He pulled his wand defiantly from his robes. He pointed it straight at her heart as she turned around. He swore he'd never do this to anyone but Potter and his band of merry imbeciles. He was about to break his promise.
"Cruci…" he began. He was stopped short by the ringing, cackling, shrill and dull laughter of Selena. Her laugh was everything at once. It grated on him like a knife. "What's so funny? Not masochistic are you?"
"Of course not." Her smile was all too amused for his liking. It was a look he would have given and he knew what it meant. "More a sadist. But preferences aside, you can put your wand away, it won't help you."
"Who are you?" Draco kept his wand up and pointed at her chest. He really should have asked her this question a long time ago.
She laughed at him again.
"Would you stop that? You have the most annoying laugh since Millicent fekking Bulstrode."
"Interesting choice of middle name." Selena said through held back giggles.
Draco twisted his wand. His front wrist now pointed straight up, the pale white of it contrasting with the black of his robes and the dark wood of his wand. "Are you going to answer my question or not?"
"Which question might that be? Who am I? Why me? Why Hermione? What's the meaning of life? Why are those bloody every flavour beans still stocking shoe leather and belly button lint flavours but they never seem to get a good quality strawberry when you need one?"
Draco blinked. Only one person had ever complained about strawberry beans, mainly because only one person he knew of had mastered the boredom game of guess the bean.
"What's your relationship to Tim McCallum?" Draco asked, without knowing why. He was meant to say 'who are you'. Stupid things seemed to be attracted to him lately. He expected Crabbe and Goyle to round the corner.
"Uh-ah, now that wasn't one of the choices." Selena winked at him. "As for whom I am, I've already told you. For all anyone really cares what you say or think, I could be Dumbledore's mother and your burly friend- Crabbe is it? - well, I could be Crabbe's sex puppy for all anyone really cares."
Draco could feel a thought lower down from the part of his brain that held his morality, through the cobwebs of its disuse and into his mouth before the Boggart that was his self restraint could find its shape.
"Hermione would listen."
She laughed again, her head thrown back to reveal a necklace of a dragon's claw. "'Hermione would listen'. Let me tell you something, Draco. Hermione is chasing shadows. And you, you are chasing something that can never be caught or tamed. This school is fighting a losing battle, the third in a war meant for two. I like you, Mr. Malfoy, and I just want you to know when I next get a chance, you and I must have a little chat about a certain someone."
"Who?" Draco asked. She had begun to turn away. The sound of squeals and shrieks assaulted his mind. She turned back to him, a true grin on her face this time.
"Well, well, what's this? The sound of true chaos assaulting your feeble little head?" Selena said in a tone that was invariably like a mocking mother of an only child. The squealing stopped abruptly when a rush of cold hit him. He felt like he was emersed in water, something or someone wrapped around him with fear. There was water rushing all around him.
"What are you doing to me?" He yelled at Selena, who simply stood back and watched.
"It appears her little plan didn't work. You can't take yourself out of the universal order. Once you are in its power you're there forever. It just seems that balance is tilting a little more towards me these days." Selena turned her back again. "I think you should rug up, don't want to catch a chill now do you?"
Harry pushed Hermione onto his bed once again. "No, you're staying until you explain why Lucy is so pissed off at you. What did you do to her?"
They'd cleared out the boy's dormitory and had Ron stand watch at the door. The common room was not the place for a conversation like that. Harry had suspected that Hermione had been suffering some kind of Mimicker after shock. Then he'd done his homework. Overdone PMT was not a side effect of Mimickers. Uncontrollable need to eat anything and everything was definitely a symptom though. Hermione had already tried to eat his homework and not even realised it.
"I threw her painting into the toilet." Hermione mumbled. There was a strain in her voice that said she was about to cry. Harry hoped she didn't he couldn't stand when girls cried.
"You threw it in the toilet? Why on earth did you do that? You thought it'd taste better that way?"
Hermione looked up at him. She wasn't crying, but he was waiting to burst into flame from that look.
"Come on Hermione, tell us, please?" Ron's contribution to the interrogation left a lot to be desired. He was worried, Harry could see that, but then he'd been paranoid ever since the side effects started to show. It was odd really.
"I threw it in there because I thought it would make Laura leave."
"Hermione, there is no-one in the painting that shouldn't be. We've been through this. You're a bit too old and a lot too smart for an invisible friend, really."
Hermione stood up and attempted to leave again. "I knew you wouldn't listen! I've tried to explain to you what's happening! All the crazy things that have been happening, they're because of her. She's making things go crazy, and Tim McCallum brought her here! He must have used Lucy's painting to call some kind of magical creature; I haven't had time to look it up in the library but…"
"Hermione, listen to me, there is nothing there. All the crazy stuff is just McCallum playing pranks and things. Fred and George used to do it all the time."
"Harry, what first year is able to do that kind of transfiguration?"
Ron jumped in at this. "Face it, Hermione, you aren't the smartest student anymore, get over it. Being stupid isn't so bad. Harry and me have survived so far." Harry reminded himself to chalk it up for later. Ron had a very round about way of making people feel better- usually by making others feel worse.
"If you aren't going to listen to me I'll just have to find someone who will. I'm going to bed, I don't want to have to put up with you two any longer than I have to right now."
"You're going to have to put up with us. You're sleeping here tonight. If you go into the girls dorm Lucy will kill you. Do you want to wake up dead?"
Hermione sat down on Ron's bed and tossed a pillow onto the floor in the middle of the room. "You know Ron, you're right."
"I am?"
"Yes. You're surviving perfectly well being stupid. Good night." She threw a blanket from the bed onto the floor for Ron and drew the curtains around the bed. Harry smiled at the look on his friend's face.
"Was that a compliment?"
Harry laughed. "Ron, you're sleeping on the floor, what do you think?"
'
"You are so lucky these oils were sealed, Granger." Lucy's voice was venom. She was replacing the freshly stretched canvas onto the frame. The images of the dancers poked their tongues out and shouted some very ungainly abuse. Hermione felt lethargic and didn't feel much like putting up with the activities of two dimensional students, nor did she fell much like dealing with the three dimensional ones. The painting of Draco said something decidedly rude. Hermione gave a small inward cheer as the painting her shoved him into Millicent Bulstrode. The tousle seemed to take their attention off Hermione long enough for her to leave without the abuse of paintings. She made her way to the Great Hall. There wouldn't be so many people there, not this early. There were a few seventh years and the odd restless first year. It was nearly Halloween after all, and there were the usual preparations and pranks to plan. And for the seventh years, it meant the mock exams. Mock exams to revise six years of knowledge. It was not something anyone else ever looked forward to. Hermione thought it would be rather invigorating.
She reached the Great Hall to find the breakfast freshly sent up. She reached the table and grabbed the first thing she could find, a kind of apple dumpling thing. There were maybe four or five people in the hall, three of them Ravenclaws and two of them boys. Hermione sat down by a piece of parchment and a quill left by someone the night before. Dobby was obviously finding it hard keeping up with the cleaning. This was blank and slightly crumbled, and the quill was barely sharp anymore. Hermione looked up from the rumpled paper to the Slytherin table. Draco was sitting with his head in his hands, and he looked pale, paler than usual, it was sad really. Hermione tore a corner from the parchment and scribbled a quick message on it.
"Wingardium Leviosa." With the old swish-and-flick that had been drummed into them since first year, she sent the paper rising from her hand and sent it floating toward Draco. The paper drifted slowly to rest in front of him. It took him a moment to look at it and read it. He flipped it, and with something he picked up from the table- an overcooked something that had become charcoal, poor Dobby- he scrawled on the other side. The paper flew back in an impressive yet dangerous arc and landed in a milk jug in front of her.
I have the flu, thank you Granger. Thanks to that stupid friend of yours.
Hermione frowned and read it again. One of her friends gave him the flu? How could that have happened? She wrote back on a new piece of paper which one?
The paper did the usual round, though Hermione saw fit to accio the piece before the milk tasted like burnt sausage. Selena.
Hermione thought for a moment. Who was Selena? She had no friends called Selena. She remembered that Draco had mentioned something about a Selena when the Mimicker had attacked her, but only in passing. But still it was an excuse. If no-one else would listen to her theory about Laura, perhaps Draco would. She took the large piece of parchment and began to write, using some strawberry jam as ink. What little ink had been left on the quill wasn't doing much better than the jam. At least she could eat the evidence in this case. The paper flew toward Draco slowly, like a feather in the wind. Her view of him was obscured briefly by a dark haired Ravenclaw, but the message seemed to have been received and understood. Now all there was left to do was wait. Everything would be explained to Draco Malfoy in the room of requirement, at midnight.
Draco caught the large ball of crinkled parchment out of the air and pulled it open. The message was written in some very smudged strawberry jam, but was just understandable. We need to talk, meet me outside Hagrid's hut at midnight.
"Ron, if she's stopped doing her Arithmancy homework she's not seeing someone else." Harry flicked a bitten vomit flavour every flavour bean into the fire. Harry had to have been over the same conversation with Ron once every five minutes; it was difficult coming up with some of the convoluted reasoning he had to.
"Oh yeah, what else could it mean?"
"She's channelling their spirit? Honestly Ron you're being paranoid."
"Am I really?"
"Yes, you are really." Harry lied. He didn't like lying to Ron, but in the end it was probably the best option. How do you tell your best friend that you think his girlfriend's off her nut? In fact, if Harry's observations were correct, no-one could hesitate in putting Hermione straight into St. Mungo's permanent residence ward between Lockhart and the Longbottoms.
"Maybe you're right, but how are you going to explain away the fact she snuck out tonight without telling Lavender of Parvati where she went?" Ron pointed the feather end of his quill at the girl's dormitories. The fire barely lit that far, and the stairs had the foreboding appearance of the road to an impending doom. The light gave away the truth- up there were Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. They were responsible for more break-ups and more unrequited broken hearts than every other student of Hogwarts combined. Except maybe Blaise Zabini, but those were just juicy rumours. Harry had spent half of his life interrupting whenever they talked to Ginny. It was a tiring business, but if they'd gotten to Ron there was no telling where it would lead. Though he had no idea Hermione was out.
"Don't you go listening to those two; they'll stir trouble as soon as look at you. They're just trying to open the way so they can have the Gryffindor Collection- only Ron, Harry and Neville to go." Harry couldn't help but giggle at his own little joke when Ron burst out laughing.
Ron dropped his quill onto their Defence against the Dark Arts homework. "Are you sure they haven't started on Ravenclaw? Greg's here an awful lot for just seeing his sister."
"Parvati goes over to Ravenclaw quite a lot too." Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and stretched. It was past midnight and they hadn't done any homework at all. "Potions really is boring."
"Hermione should be here to help us." Ron, though having done no writing, dipped his quill in the ink for the fifteenth time. "At least that way we might get something done."
"Is that all Hermione is to you? Just a study buddy? If I'm right, Ron, I understand Hermione completely. You can't go around treating her like a computer; she's going to think you're using her. Look I'll see if I can find her, you just try and get your potions homework done." Harry closed his potions book and stood up. Ron was really starting to get on his nerves. He went upstairs to his dorm and collected the marauders map. He hadn't used it in a while. He opened the map carefully.
"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."
Hermione paced up and down the Room Of Requirement. She had been waiting there and hour. Someone was and sure to find her here. A student and out of bed at one in the morning was never going to go down well. The room had made itself up well though. There was a very plush couch in the middle of the floor. A coffee table with two steaming hot coffee was set before it. There was even a plate of biscuits. Hermione could not bring herself to sit down. How could Draco just not come? He had promised. Not in so many words, but he had promised. This really wasn't like him, he may have been a mangy git, but he kept his word.
"This is getting ridiculous, why am I even waiting for him?" Hermione flopped down on the couch. She would give him ten more minutes; otherwise she was going back to bed. If no one was going to listen to her she would do it herself.
What the hell did she think she was playing at? For that matter what did he think he was playing at? Why was he out here? Why in the name of Merlin's beard was he following the orders of a Mudblood? He had to be losing his mind. Draco Malfoy stood outside Hagrid's hut in the cold. Granger's note had said to be there at midnight. It was now one in the morning and there was no Granger. Something had to be done and now. Draco pulled his cloak around him and headed back toward Hogwarts. He would find Granger if he had to go to Gryffindor Tower himself. He was not to be made a fool of. He would find Hermione Granger, and he would take her by the hair, and throw her in the lake.
Why would anyone want to meet out here anyway? If he got detention Granger would pay. There was no doubt about that, and what's more he'd have fun making her pay. Now all he had to do was get past Mrs. Norris.
Ten past one, now she was getting annoyed. He had already drank both coffees, and started on the biscuits. "Damnit, I wish I knew where he was!" Hermione was pacing again. She turned abruptly began to pace in the other direction. She paced straight into Harry Potter. He had come out of nowhere, the Marauders Map in his hand. He looked almost as stunned as Hermione was.
"Harry, what are you doing here?" Hermione attempted to hide the couch, but Harry was not that stupid. She would have gotten away with it if it were Ron. She was well and truly busted.
"Is this the Room Of Requirement?" Harry frowned at her, she hated how easily he could get to her sometimes. "Tell me what you're doing here, and I want the truth."
Hermione swallowed hard. The truth was never ever going to get past him. "I'm meeting someone. It's about homework."
"Homework? Come on Hermione, it is one in the morning. Even you aren't that obsessive. I doubt anyone else even comes close." Harry was still holding the Marauders Map. That would be just what she needed. That also explained why Harry was here. But that was ridiculous- no one could apparated within Hogwarts. She was really needed to see Draco. This however would not go down very well with Harry. She would have to get rid of him.
"Harry can I borrow the map for a minute?"
"What do you need it for?"
"To see if the person I'm waiting for is coming."
"Who are you waiting for? I'll see if they're coming."
Hermione went to snatch the map. Harry was too quick for her. "Harry please I can't tell you just give me the map." The look on Harry's face scared Hermione more than dragons and trolls ever could. She couldn't help but shrink back on herself.
"Hermione are you cheating on Ron?"
That was unexpected.
"No! Of course not! I would never do that. I'm just waiting for someone that's all. Why is it any of your business?" Hermione knew she sounded panicked. She also knew she had been caught.
"I'm waiting for Draco."
"Malfoy?"
"Do you know any other Dracos?"
The map was discarded as Harry crossed the room. The rage in his eyes had only previously been reserved for Lord Voldemort. Hermione had the sudden urge to run. Run and never turn back. She never thought she'd be scared of her best friend.
Ah well, there was a first time for everything.
"You're cheating on Ron with Draco fucking Malfoy?"
"I told you, Harry, I'm not cheating on Ron."
"What do you call it, Hermione? You're slipping out in the middle of the night to see Draco Malfoy, you barely speak to Ron and me, and now you're in a panic to be found out. Honestly Hermione, did you think we were thick or something? Did you think that we wouldn't notice? A Ravenclaw girl told us you were writing notes to him at breakfast."
"The note was asking him to come here."
"Well he's obviously not here. But I am and I want an explanation." Harry's eyes had become bright electric green. Of all the expressions of Harry Potter this indicated the worst. A bomb was about to go off, and Hermione could do nothing to stop it. She did the only thing she could do. Explode right back.
"My explanation? Here's my explanation. You never listen to me, either of you. All you ever needed me for was homework. I was never a person to you. Poor Hermione, your own special library. Well guess what, I'm here to find someone who will listen to me." Harry's expression didn't change. He still looked as if he'd caught her having sex with the entire Slytherin Quidditch team. This was the last straw. "All right Harry, you want the truth? I'm screwing Malfoy's brains out. In fact I'm carrying his love child. So you can go back and tell Ron that his suspicions were correct. Now get out of my way." Hermione pushed past Harry roughly. She found the door and went into the corridor. A she stumbled in a huff; she faintly heard Harry's voice.
"Your love is waiting for you at Gryffindor Tower."
"Come on give me the password I would find it eventually." Draco had been standing in front of his painting what felt like hours.
"You are definitely not in Gryffindor. You are not allowed in this tower. Go back to your dorm or I will inform the headmaster." The portrait of the fat lady was almost as annoying as the one on the Slytherin door.
"I only want to speak to Granger. I'll only be a minute."
"My answer is no, and that's final." The painting stomped her foot defiantly. "And don't let me see you back here again."
Draco shot the painting one more rude gesture. "At least give someone this message to give to Granger: the meeting has been changed to by the lake at one thirty. If she is not there I will tell the headmaster that she was out of bed. And remind her of the Mimicker for good measure." He turned and began to way to make his way down the stairs. This would be a long night.
Hermione reached portrait of the fat lady faster than she ever thought possible. She didn't quite understand why she felt so desperate to get there. Why, of all people, she was desperate to see Malfoy. It was Malfoy for Merlin's sake. Harry wouldn't be far behind her. Now here she stood, in front of the Gryffindor painting, waiting for someone who last year she quite happily would have hexed to oblivion. And what's more she thought she knew why. Draco wasn't there like Harry said; maybe he never had been there. Maybe Harry was just teasing her. Just getting it back for being angry at him. Well this was the last straw. I was about time that they treated her like a human being, not just a walking notebook.
"Miss Granger?" The portrait said. The fat lady sounded concerned. Hermione tried to her best to hide her annoyance as she looked straight at the fat lady. She looked worried.
"Amorum Terminum," Hermione said defiantly. No painting was getting any gossip out of her.
"In a minute, in a minute. There's a message for you. He said the meeting has been changed. By the lake at one thirty."
Draco had been here? But why wasn't he where they arranged to meet? But he would be by the lake. And that is where she would go. Without even a thank you she turned and ran back down the stairs. Down to the lake. If she ran she might make it before he left. Then they could talk all this out. They could try and work out just what was going on. Then everything would be alright. Draco would listen to her. Draco would understand.
She charged through the courtyard she normally took to the Quidditch pitch. From there she could get to the lake quicker. Then maybe, just maybe, there would be an end to all this. It was cold out that she barely noticed. If it weren't for the moon she would not have been able to see a thing. Even now, it cast an eerie glow over the surface of lake in the distance. A figure stood on the shore. Draco had been smarter than her, he had brought a cloak. He looked like a discarded chess piece on the shimmering fabric of the landscape. The only pawn left in the game when no one really knew the rules. Or was she a pawn too? In the end it didn't really matter. As long as this meeting went well.
"I suppose you think it's funny don't you? Telling me to meet you and never turning up. Very mature. So very unlike you. In fact, I would almost think someone was playing a game with us. Would you agree?" She was taken aback by his words. Then a sudden flood of relief hit her like a wave. He does understand!
"You wouldn't believe how relieved I am to hear you say that." Hermione was close to frantic when she reached him. The relief was overwhelming. "Didn't you get my note about the Room of Requirement?"
"Room of Requirement? The note said Hagrid's hut." Draco hadn't yet turned to face her. In fact he hadn't moved. Just kept staring out over the water. His hood was up so she couldn't see his face. It was definitely him though. She was so sure she could taste it. The thought made her shiver. It didn't feel right for her to know him just by a feeling. To be able to sense Draco Malfoy was like being able to sense a bad mark coming in potions, it was inevitable, and you were never quite ready for it. They went on in silence for several minutes.
"What do you think is going on?" She finally said, staring out into the moonlit expanse of water herself.
"I'm not quite sure, Hermione, but whatever it is, it's making it awful hard to stand here without touching you."
Somehow, that's exactly what she wanted to hear.
