CHAPTER 5

"Wadda mean, 'McGonagall's outside'?"

Ron joined the other four students already peering down.

"It's code for 'the dasies are blooming late this year.' What the fuck do you think I mean, Weasel?" Malfoy asked with contempt. "McGonagall is out side."

"Blimey!" exclaimed Ron. "There's a cat out there that looks just like the professor!"

"Oh Ron," Hermione said, sighing, "you really need to cut back on the potions."

"Potions? Whose got potions?" The redhead grew suddenly alert. "Have you got any potions, Harry?"

Lavender appeared confused by their dialogue. Harry was standing nearest her, so she inquired of him:

"Haven't we all got a potions class? What in the world are they going on about?"

Harry looked at her much like he had when she made the earlier social blunder. Lavender, recognizing that she must have said something foolish, withdrew her inquiry. But once more the hurt in her eyes moved Harry to pity.

"Nah, it's an understandable question. The kind of potions Ron takes aren't taught in school." Since her blank stare didn't waver, he continued. "It's like drugs...wait, that's a muggle thing. Let's see... they're mixed special to make you feel good. In an unnatural sort of way."

Lavender gasped.

"Isn't that dangerous? I mean, potions are dangerous to fool with – can't you...can't you get hurt?"

"'Course you can, especially if you use them a lot." he replied. "Just look at how bad they fucked up Ron."

As they were talking, Ron had made his way into a corner where he was now relieving himself unabashedly.

Lavender stood in shock observing him, and Harry couldn't help but laugh at her astonishment. She was innocent as a child, yet it only enhanced her angelic beauty.

Harry shivered and returned to his senses. Lavender was of a different breed than him; two breeds which didn't mix well. No, nothing could ever come of his boyish crush. But he continued to explore her body with his eyes, looking without hope of ever touching.

O.o..O..o.O

Hermione instantly realized all the implications of McGonagall strolling about the grounds. If still transfigured, the professor had probably somehow lost her ability to change back. That meant she couldn't get back inside, which meant she couldn't watch them, which meant...

Hermione tried to catch the eye of her ex, but he was staring fixedly at the ditzy blonde.

Jealousy took over for an instant before she paused to think. She and Harry were no longer dating, thus she had no right to be jealous. Besides, he was an asshole. He and Lavender deserved each other.

"Alright, you guys still haven't told me who's got the fucking potions!"

Earlier, just after Malfoy punched Harry, she'd asked Ron if he had anything that could help with their pain, and now he couldn't shut up about potions. Ron was obviously finished in the corner, and now wandered back to the window.

"Hey, is that McGonagall?"

Malfoy walked away in a huff, muttering something about "disgrace to society."

"Christ, I can't believe this is happening," he wined. "I don't even deserve to be here, and I'm sure you haven't exactly earned it either."

Hermione recognized mid-nod that Draco…er, Malfoy was talking to her.

"Um, no, I guess not."

She became aware of his eyes scanning her the moment she looked away. Unsure of what exactly Malfoy was after, Hermione tried to make small talk about classes, quiddich, the weather, boxers or briefs, etc.

After twenty minutes or so, she found herself more at ease, but still questioned his motives. Not only had they hated each other since first year, but she couldn't shake the reputation behind that name: Draco Malfoy – sports king, ladies man, tormentor of geeks.

Geeks. Like herself. Hermione instantly tensed to awaken from the daze caused by his speech. If this sudden friendliness was a new tactic for humiliation, she had to be ready.

It didn't help that he had been the first to openly call her a "mudblood" and tear her down for being intelligent. Malfoy's good marks were earned with his father's gold, so Hermione liked to imagine that his cruelty was actually a jealous cry for help.

But his Slytherin cunning was too strong an influence to ignore in this particular situation; he must want something. Homework copying was the most obvious explanation, yet it was common knowledge that he had already bedded two Ravenclaws for that specific purpose; though many boys found her body desirable, it wasn't Malfoy's typically mold.

While she considered this, Harry continued to eye rape Lavender. And that was the beginning of Hermione's plotting.

O.o..O..o.O

Harry ached with desire.

"I'd like to break me off a piece of that…"

"Excuse me?" Lavender spun to face him, eyes flaming.

"Er….I was just thinking about…." he paused, Lavender's stare making him loose focus. "…bread. I'm real hungry, and I was thinking about how much I'd like to break off a piece of bread."

The unexpected outburst made him search for something else with which to pass the time. Malfoy and Hermione chatted earnestly; Harry didn't doubt that he planned to fuck her, and the mere thought turned his stomach sour. Malfoy screwed everything with a big chest that came his way, excepting the drunken romp he was rumored to have had with Blaise in sixth year.

Not that Harry was concerned – Hermione knew perfectly well how to care for herself, and had an arsenal of spells that could "disarm" any assailant, as he had personally experienced during their last fight. Harry was more concerned by Malfoy's cockiness in pursuing her.

Suddenly they stopped talking and a hush fell over the Great Hall. Everyone explored their shoes for something new to say.

"So…anybody know any good jokes?"

"Your mom's a good joke!" Ron giggled at his own originality. "Better still, how about Malfoy's mum? She makes for a pretty good joke, eh Harry?"

"You'd better shut your fucking mouth, Weasly, before I fix it for good!" said Malfoy, no longer concerned with Hermione.

"Draco, please don't hurt him," pleaded Hermione. "He doesn't know what he's saying!"

"That bastard knows goddamn well what he's saying, and I'll make sure he never forgets who he's fucking with!"

Harry felt an unusual twinge of guilt at the way Malfoy reacted, but it quickly melted into amusement at the pink color rising in his pale cheeks. Even Malfoy's hair seemed to redden. Surely smoke would spout from his ears at any moment. Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"And what the fuck is your problem, Potter?" Malfoy spat. "Thinking about your pitiful excuse for a life?"

Hermione, ever the passive mediator, stepped between the two, a hand on each of their chests.

"Could you boys please stop bickering for one minute? Honestly, it hasn't been more than a few hours and already we're dangerously close to having some casualties on our hands."

Shockingly, Malfoy stepped away without even a mutter of complaint.

Again the silence fell on them.

"Still six hours left and we've got nothing left to say," Malfoy drawled as if nothing had happened. "Christ, this is going to be a long day."

"It's 'cause you're all so damn stodgy," explained Ron, thinking the problem an obvious one. They all realized the truth of his statement, given their far-reaching histories.

"No way are we going to drink one of your potions in here, Ronald Weasley, in case you're planning something along those lines." Hermione took on her sternest tone. "McGonagall would expel us for certain."

"So why don't you come up with a better idea?" he retorted. "And make it quick – I'm really starting to come down."

Inspiration struck Harry and he grabbed Lavender, who happened to be standing closest to him, by the hand.

"Come on; all of you – let's go."

"Where are you taking us Potter? Eyeshadow need a touch up?"

"Fucking hilarious, Malfoy. Coming or not?"

Harry was actually relieved when Malfoy shrugged and followed the crowd. He probably resented not leading the pack, but the only thing that mattered was for everyone to join the party. Remaining unseen would be difficult if they separated.

Harry led them away from the Hall and up the shifting stairs.

"If I didn't know any better," Hermione began, "I'd say we were going to Gryffindor tower."

"Not exactly," replied Harry. "We're going to my dorm."

O.o..O..o.O

Draco, although surprised by the statement, showed no emotion. Gryffindor was the only tower he hadn't visited a girl in, since they tended to avoid his crowd as much as possible.

It was an extremely short, silent walk after which they stood inside a well-lit passage. Potter didn't even lower his voice while saying the password – "fiddlesticks" – so it was probably changed on a regular basis. The same rule applied in Slytherin, but they never used anything so queer as "fiddlesticks."

"That's why I've never fucked one of them!" he reasoned. "They're all flaming homosexuals!"

Draco would have stuck with this theory were it not for the tension between the former "trio." From what he could gather, Potter and Granger had been fuck buddies and Weasley was jealous. Actually, he'd heard something similar from Lavender, buried in one of her gossip rants.

Lost in his thoughts, Draco nearly forgot to be disgusted by the tower's maroon and gold decor. Everything from the chintz armchairs to hanging banners bore the cheery colors. Of course, Slytherin was done alike, but green and silver were infinitely calmer than fucking maroon and gold. If he had to guess, Draco would say plenty of Gryffindors would readily volunteer to have their dicks tattooed with it.

O.o..O..o.O

Harry walked briskly without looking back. He was eager to get what they'd come for.

When the group finally reached the seventh year dorms, he headed straight to his bed and flopped down on it.

"Tell me you didn't drag us all this way so you take a nap," Malfoy said.

Ignoring him, Harry rolled onto his side and felt along the mattress. From a slice in the fabric invisible to unsuspecting eyes he withdrew a plastic bag.

"Oh no," moaned Hermione, "tell me that's not what I think it is."

"Alright – this is not what you think it is," he replied. "Unless you think it's pot, because then I'd be lying."

"What is it?" Lavender's mouth hung open as she examined the bundle of small leaves.

"Marijuana," Hermione said darkly.

"Right. So, what is it?"

"Marijuana is the muggle equivalent of, say, a hyssidmus potion," explained Hermione. "But it's really tough to compare it with anything magical, since it's a naturally grown plant and requires very little preparation."

"Okay. I'm not sure what that means, but okay."

"That shit's for pussies!" Ron protested. "I mean, how good can it be if you were able to sneak it into Hogwarts?"

"Then I guess it should do you just fine, eh Ron?" Harry spat. "Or maybe you're scared it'll be too intense. Personally, I think pussies are pretty intense."

"Why don't you go fuck yourself?"

"Maybe I will!"

The two boys lunged at each other, connecting midair, then falling heavily to the floor. For a moment their bodies were indistinguishably intertwined, save for snatches of red hair and black boots. But then Harry broke away, pinning his lanky opponent with ease. Both were now sporting split lips, not to mention the countless bruises which would develop later.

"Oh my God!" Lavender squealed. "Are you guys okay? Did he hurt you at all? Oh! Your lip is bleeding! Let me help you..."

Ron started to reply, but she rushed over to the Boy Who Lived.

This time Harry neither ignored nor resisted fretting hands. In fact, when he stopped focusing on social standing it actually felt quite good. Better still was the burning glare from Hermione directed into the back of Lavender's skull; nothing thrilled him like girls fighting over him.

O.o..O..o.O

Hermione could have gotten angry. Hell, she could have thrown a few punches herself, given the immature behavior of her former best friends. But instead she stepped back, breathing, remembering her own advice given to people in similar situations. She was over them – both of them. Time to move on.

Malfoy had remained amazingly aloof throughout the whole brawl. Hermione drifted slowly towards him, not realizing her direction until they bumped shoulders.

"Watch where you're going, mud..." Malfoy froze midsentence, but Hermione already knew what was coming next, having heard it spewed from his pampered mouth for years. Her expectation turned to shock as Malfoy blushed and stammered: "...um...never mind."

Could it possibly be a joke? At no time did Draco Malfoy withdraw an insult.

"Are you fooling with me Malfoy?"

For a moment he stood sputtering, the redness continuing to creep along his cheeks.

"I'm not...it's just...pretend it never happened, okay? Oh, and sorry for bumping into you."

When he turned away Hermions didn't bother to argue; she was much too confused.