Chapter Two
Hermione huffed as she looked up at the tapestry leading the way to the Heads' common room. The tapestry depicted herself and Malfoy, both much older. They had their backs to each other looking rather peeved. Older Hermione looked ready to beat him up and Older Draco, looking more arrogant than ever, had his arms cross over his chest. Hermione wanted to punch the portrait Draco as well but kept herself maintained.
"Password?" asked her portrait self, finally noticing Hermione standing there.
"Before I give that, is that git in there?"
"The younger Mr. Malfoy?" the portrait asked. "Yes, yes. It's somewhat hard not to know that. When you get inside, you'll understand."
Draco had left the feast early, claiming to have a stomach ache, and several of the Slytherins had left out of pure boredom, thought several had been missing anyway, since the end of the Dark War had taken both them and their families lives, whereas some of them had been dragged away to Azkaban after the Dark Lord's demise. Hermione sighed in irritation.
"All right…" she murmured. "Meteorum memoradius."
The tapestry folded up and exposed a well list staircase. Hermione put her foot on the top stair and the tapestry rolled down behind her. She was halfway down the stairs when she stopped. She thought she heard something but it was gone almost immediately. She continued down the stairs and stopped dead when she was in the common room. It was decorated in gold and silver. The couches and armchairs by the fire were scarlet and green and there were several tables and portraits to be found here and there. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and the light reflecting from the glassy decoration was giving the room a mystical look.
It was not the beauty of the room, however, that had halted Hermione. It was the noise coming from Draco's room…or what was presumably Draco's room. Loud moans and cries could be from behind a large oak door that had been carved to have a serpent designed on the front. Hermione rubbed her temple, flicked her wand, and put a silencing charm on the door. She then retreated to her room and looked around.
Everything that had been in her trunk had been put away. There was a large, king-sized, canopy bed in a corner by the window. The blanket on the bed was made out of crimson satin and the pillows were a velvety gold. Gold and red hangings surrounded the bed, which came a good three feet from the ground. She went over and climbed up onto it. She buried her face in the pillows and then took another look around. On the opposite side of her room was a bookcase, which was filled with old and new looking books. Beside the bookcase was a full-length mirror. On the other side of the room, near another door that was carved to depict a waterfall, which presumably led to the lavatory, was her dresser. It was tall and had a closet built in with drawers below it. Hermione rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.
"Mmm…enchanted to look like the night sky," she murmured and closed her eyes for a moment. She relaxed into the bed and then rolled over drowsily. "No…must stay awake."
She pushed herself off the bed and moved over to her dresser, pulling out some conservative, purple pajamas that hung loosely on her body and had little flowers all over them. She dragged them, and her body, into the bathroom. She locked all three doors so that neither Draco nor his "guest" could get in. She then looked around. The bathroom was beautiful. The floor was black marble and walls were white. Two faucets adorned opposite walls: one by Draco's door and one by Hermione. There was a shower in on corner and two stalls next to the faucets that obviously held toilets. She slumped over to the pool-sized tub, much like the one in the prefects' bathroom, and turned on the faucet, filling the tub with warm water and experimenting with the other taps.
Meanwhile…
Draco rolled off Pansy, panting heavily and sweating. She was smiling broadly and he was wiping sweat from his brow. He rested his head in the pillow and looked at her.
"You should get back to the Slytherin common room," he drawled, rather weakly. "I need to take care of something." He sat up on his bed and reach for a pair of silver, satin boxers that lay strewn, with several other garments of clothing on his bed.
Pansy grabbed her clothes and dressed quickly. She relaxed on his bed and bit then rolled over and kissed Draco roughly on the lips. He didn't return it. She buried her face in his pillow and inhaled, grinning broadly. Draco perked up his ear and listened. There was utter silence.
"Pansy, on second thought, go out into the hall, close my door, and yell as loud as you can," he said.
"Okay, Drakie," she said automatically, slinging her body off the bed and heading for the door. She closed it behind herself as she stepped out into the common room. With as much force as she could must, she shrieked.
Hermione, who had been reclining in the tub, choked after inhaling water by accident and popped her head out of the tub, spluttering. She grabbed a towel, wrapped it around her body, and threw the bathroom door open. Standing outside Draco room, was Pansy, wailing at the top of her lungs. Hermione clamped her hands over her ears, dropping the towel. Soon Draco opened his door and peeked out, also clamping his hands over his ears as the sound flooded in. Hermione slammed the door shut.
"Silencio!" she cried, pointing her wand at the door. Soon, there was silence and she jumped back into the tub after locking the door again.
"Just as I thought," called Draco, making Pansy silence. "That mudblood must have put a silencing charm on my room when she came in. Go back to the Slytherin common room now, Pansy. I'll deal with her."
"All right," Pansy replied, rubbing her throat. "Good night, Drakie. If you need me again, you know where to find me." With that, Pansy strode out of the common room and raced down to the dungeons.
Hermione finished her bath and dressed in her pajamas after charming her hair dry. She emptied the tub and left the bathroom after unlocking all of the doors. She grabbed a book from the shelf in her room and retreated to the common room, sitting on a crimson couch and starting to read. She wasn't past the third page when Draco's door opened and he stepped out.
"I should've guessed it was Pansy," Hermione said, not looking up from her book. "I don't care who you bed, but at least put a silencing charm on your room if you're going to do that sort of thing. I'm sure the whole school heard you, she was shrieking so loud."
"I don't think I will," Draco drawled.
"What?" questioned Hermione, looking up at him and arching a brow.
"I don't think I will put a silencing charm on my room if I have visitors," he smirked. "It's nice to know you're getting so much discomfort from it."
"I could easily put a silencing charm on my room if you won't on yours," Hermione stated, looking back at the test she was reading. "It's not much of a problem. I'd rather hear nothing than retch at the sounds of your sexual exhibitions."
"Speaking thus," Draco interjected, "I've been meaning to ask, why were you vomiting on the train this morning?"
"None of your business," Hermione growled warningly.
"Could it be that out little bushy-haired bookworm is expecting? Which of your little boyfriends is it? Weasel? Potty? Or maybe it's even Longbottom!" laughed Draco.
"Watch it, Malfoy!" Hermione snapped, slamming her book closed and waving it threateningly.
"Or is it some muggle's?" WHAM! The thick book Hermione had been reading connected with Draco's face. It fell to the floor with a thump and Hermione stood up.
Draco had a bloody nose, which he was holding with both hands. Hermione went over to him, snatched up her book, and waved it ominously at him again. He recoiled slightly but Hermione merely passed him by and retreated to her room, slamming the door behind her. Draco let go of his nose and looked at his bloodied hands. He retreated to the bathroom and grabbed a tissue, dabbing his nose and waiting for the bleeding to stop, which it eventually did. He tossed his tissue in a wastebasket and glared at Hermione's door. He stomped over and threw the door open, stepping inside.
"Mudblood—" but he stopped when he saw her.
She was couched in a fetal position in the corner of her bed, looking small and unwanted. She was quivering with silent sobs. She was rocking back and forth. Suddenly, a gold pillow hit Draco in the face and Hermione was glaring at him, wiping her eyes.
"Get out!" she yelled.
"Granger, I—"
"I SAID, GET OUT!" she screeched at the top of her lungs, reaching for her book again. Draco saw this, retreated back into the bathroom and shut the door, just in time to hear the book hitting the wood of the door.
"Crazy bitch," he murmured before returning to his room.
Hermione continued to cry into her knees. The truth was that she was sad because it was her last year at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . Many possibilities of what could happen after the year was over kept flashing through her head. Most likely Ron and Harry would go into auror training and Hermione would start a career as a professor or work at Flourish and Blotts. She sighed and rested her head on her pillow, burying her face in the soft velvet. It wasn't long before she dozed off.
Draco showered and returned to his room, the smell of him and Pansy wasn't yet gone and with a wave of his wand, there was a slight breeze blowing through his room. Soon the scent was gone and he relaxed. She rested his gel-less head on his black pillow and closed his eyes. He was just about to sleep when there was a knock at his door. He rolled weakly off his bed and slumped over to the door. He took the handle and pulled it open slowly. There, standing in the doorway, was Lucius Malfoy.
"Son," he greeted, as his portrait had that morning.
"Father?" asked Draco. "Back from Transylvania?"
"Yes, it was quite nice," Lucius replied.
"Why are you here?" Draco asked.
"Just for a visit, since I missed your departure this morning," Draco's father explained. "You are, after all, my son. So, Draco, who is the Head Girl?"
"Hermione Granger, father."
"That mudblood? What a pity. She's treated you well? Not been dishonorable toward you?" Lucius asked, arching an expectant eyebrow.
Draco thought for a moment of telling his father of the incident on the train and in the common room.
"No, father," he said instead, "she's kept her place."
"Perhaps she is growing then," Lucius murmured. "Well, that's all, son. Keep me informed about your year as Head Boy and my father and I'll be in touch."
"Yes, father," Draco droned and watched his father floo from the fireplace in the common room.
Draco then rolled his eyes and scratched at his arm. He looked down and glared at the Dark Mark printed on his arm. Sometimes it still burned and reminded him that it was there and that he shouldn't forget about his past. He merely scratched it and waited for the burning sensation to subside before returning to his room and going to bed.