SORRY! I know this has taken FOREVER! But i finally posted.
THANKS to my reviewers. KEEP IT COMING! Love you guys!
LOVE YOU Meg, my beta!
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Chapter 9: Sunday, It's So Unexpected
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Sunday morning came, and the mood at school was relaxed. Hermione dressed comfortably and made her way down to the common room where she met her two best friends, surprisingly already there.
"Why are you two awake at this hour?" She asked them as she sat on a comfortable armchair by the fire. "I thought you'd still be sleeping?"
She looked at Harry and saw that he looked like he had slept very little. "Harry are you alright?" She asked.
"Yes I'm fine." He said quickly. Hermione narrowed her eyes and then turned to Ron and looked at him questioningly. Ron merely shrugged.
Seconds later Ron said, "I had to write my mum a letter this morning and I had to write some of that stupid Potions assignment. Goyle isn't going to do anything, but I'll do something about it..." Then he yawned.
"Have you two had breakfast yet?...Harry you look like you need it." Harry didn't want to look at her, not since what he did last Tuesday and everyday that passed made him feel even more guilty and angry with himself. Perhaps some breakfast would help...
Harry had been acting a bit funny for the last few days, Hermione noted, and if he didn't say something soon, or didn't change to how he used to be, Hermione was definitely going to talk to him about what was bothering him...It couldn't be Sirius again...He was acting like they weren't even going out anymore.
Once Hermione was done eating her breakfast she got up and left Ron and Harry, who were still eating. And because she saw that Harry was actually eating she decided that she would just leave them at it and go to the common room and get a start in her Arithmancy assignment.
In the Great Hall Harry stared at his bowl of oatmeal, wishing that he couldn't think...It was true he had cheated on Hermione...it was his fault...Why couldn't he control himself!...He had let her down...
Her foot was on the third step, the other on the fourth, and she heard a, "hey Granger." It was Malfoy and he smoothly jumped from the bottom step to the third one, with ease as if it was only one step, to where she was.
Hermione lifted her eyebrows as if saying 'what?' and he continued, "Tomorrow meet me at the entrance that goes out to the Quidditch field at 7:30 pm and we'll go to the Forest. I'll be waiting for you there." He didn't even wait for Hermione's answer he just went right back down the stairs and Hermione looked over her shoulder and saw that he was walking into the Great Hall right when Cho Chang was leaving.
Cho looked straight at her eyes and she had a satisfied smug looking smile on her. Hermione didn't know why she was looking at her that way, Cho's black eyes lingered on her for a moment or two, but Hermione didn't think anything of it and left to do her homework.
When she entered the common room there were only a few students there; the rest were still eating. She made her way to her dorm and brought down her bag and a few books. When she got back down the stairs she made to an armchair by the fire.
A good hour had gone by and she was just finishing wrapping up a good conclusion about numbers and Arithmancy, when she saw Dennis Creevey coming to her side, breathless, as if he had ran a long distance, "Hermione Granger? You have to go down to the Headmaster's office right now!" He said, and made to leave.
"Wait! Dennis, why, did the Headmaster say?" She asked.
"No, Professor Dumbledore didn't say anything it was McGonagall. She told me to go find you and tell you to go to his office, that's all." Hermione nodded at his answer and for a few seconds didn't move, but just sat there thinking of what it could be. She didn't wait any longer and left the common room.
Hardly anyone was out roaming the halls; it was a nice sunny day, and many students were lingering around the lake and courtyards.
Hermione came upon the gargoyle and saw that the spiral staircase was already revealed, therefore she walked in.
She knocked on the door out of politeness, as it was slightly ajar. She saw who was there. She froze as he turned around and looked at her...Oh no...Why did he come?
"Hermione." At least he had been practicing her name, he could somewhat say it right. "Hello, I took a break from the season to come see you. How haff you been since..." He looked down slightly, not wanting to see her face. She could tell that he was sad. And somehow it didn't make her feel good at seeing him. It actually made her feel bad, worse than she had felt in a long time. "Herm-own-ninny...Herm-own-ny." She saw him correct his mistake with a bit of effort. "I haff not been the same since your letter...I knew Potter...would see you as you really are...perfect..." He broke off and Hermione saw he looked tired, like he hadn't slept well. Her eyes instantly became very sad as she saw him standing there haughty and surly as usual, yet he had the aura of a lost child.
"Oh Viktor...I am sorry...you don't know how much it hurts me to see you, here...like this..."
"I know it can't hurt as much as I am hurting...Vell I realize that you von't come back...ever...but tell me did you leave me because Potter asked you out...Oh Hermione, ve vere great together, I love you, more than you can imagine." He was making Hermione feel worse than ever. When she had broken up with him in that letter, she wasn't sure whether she wanted to or not...It was that they never got to see each other. And Hermione had no one to love her, the way Viktor did, that made her want someone close.
He had been holding in and finally a tear made its way down his cheek fast; he didn't bother to brush it away, but merely continued, "I guess you vere too great for me to deserve—."
"No! Don't say that. Viktor you are one of the greatest men I've ever known. Even for someone of your social status, you are humble and sweet. You don't need me. If anything," she sadly grinned, "I'm not good enough for you..." He shook his head. Hermione had no idea how much he really did love her.
He took her thin wrists and held them firmly in his coarse hands, but not in a way that hurt her, "Hermione, give me von chance. I promise that it vill vork out. I vill move here, in Hogsmeade and ve can see each other during your trips there, and perhaps the veekends, if Dumbledore permits—." There was a tone of desperation in his voice, and she didn't like it...
"No!" She had tears going down her face, she knew that they couldn't get back together, she wasn't sure why. The way things were going with Harry, perhaps it was better to go back to Krum, but something told her that it was a bad idea, that she would regret it later.
Hermione weakly shook her head and he held her hands tighter; scratching her skin beneath. "Please! Herm-own-ny I promise that you von't regret it...You said I vas great...I vant to be great vith you, only you. Hermione I've never known anyone like you; perfect in every vay, inside and out...My brilliant Hermione don't leave me again..." His dark eyes were sparkly with the sad mystery that they always held. Maybe it was because he was a celebrity, a rich well known Quidditch player. Maybe that was why he had never known any other decent girl like her. But Hermione couldn't be with him, selfish as it sounds, she had her own happiness to think about, and that wouldn't be with Viktor, no matter how great he was.
Hermione freed herself from his hands. She kept shaking her head, and closed her eyes, letting droplets of tears roll down and ran away from him. She went out the door, and down the stairs as fast as she could, not looking back.
She ran down the corridor and stopped abruptly walking into something hard. "Hermione, Hermione, what's wrong? What happened?" asked a concerned Ron.
Hermione sobbed and was trying to get away when she heard, "Hermione!" This time it was Harry coming from somewhere behind Ron. "What happened, Ron did you do something to her!" He looked at Ron, whose eyes flashed. How could he think that he would hurt his best friend?
Hermione ran away from them and didn't stop until she got to her dorm.
Draco had seen her running up the stairs. He was coming from the dungeons. She had been crying. Potter and Weasley had been chasing after her, dodging the students that came across their way. Draco followed her with his silver eyes until she turned down a corridor and out of his sight. For a few seconds he stood there, pondering what could have upset her so.
Draco, not too keen to go out for fresh air like he had been minutes ago, decided to go back down the dungeons. He needed a place to relax and think...
He knew the perfect spot...
He turned sharply down a corridor to the right. He liked these dungeons. They might have been thought of as dank and dark, but perhaps on the surface theses halls seemed that way. But he had been here for so long, they were home. The corridors he knew. As he turned down another corridor he thought that these walls granted him peace in a way, where he could walk forever.
The thing that sometimes bothered him was the sinister paintings on the wall. They either looked at him like what he was; a Malfoy, or looked at him as if they were all superior to him. Sometimes the looks he received, which wasn't often, made him feel like he was a house-elf, or worse a mudblood...
He didn't linger too much on that. The stupid paintings weren't worth a knut. So he settled on looking at them with his usual sneer and icy eyes.
Finally he came upon what he wanted; a painting of his great uncle, from his mother's side of the family. He took out his wand and tapped it while muttering an incantation under his breath. The painting swung forward, like that of his common room, revealing one of his favorite places at Hogwarts; the Malfoy Room, he walked in.
The Malfoy Room was only used by Malfoys during their time at Hogwarts. It was used by his mother and father and many other generations before them. Now Draco occupied it.
He entered the room and saw that it was as perfect as it had been the last time he had been in there. It was decorated in Slytherin colors, of course, and he sprawled himself on the big four-poster bed and he stared out at the ceiling in front of him.
He let out a breath and focused on the reason he had come here in the first place; Hermione. He remembered that one time in their third year when she had decked him. He was furious. He had come to this very room to blow off all the steam that had invaded him. He had never been so angry. Not only had a girl hit him. It was the girl that he hated the most; the mudblood.
He laughed softly, reminiscing...
Still why had she been running up the stairs? Had perhaps one of those prats hurt her, or said something? He would have liked to right now be a fly on her wall. Though he would most likely be seeing her crying, he probably would have found out why she was so upset. He wished he could admire her from up close without her knowing. An invisible fly would be good for now.
He closed his eyes. In thought, he never found out when he had fallen asleep. The last thing he remembered was him thinking, once again, what it was about her that he loved so much? What was it that he could not live without? After all she was quite plain to the naked eye. But his eyes were as keen as those of a poet. Somehow always observing the world around...
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