Chapter Two: The Kiss

Hermione lay, soundless, on her bed. She hugged the comforter around her for the mere sake of it. It had been a week since Malfoy had appeared at her door, and ever since then it had always been the same thing: Get up, make breakfast, entertain Malfoy, sleep. She felt like a giant clockwork; going round and round in a never-ending cycle. One of these days, Hermione thought, I will be liable to explode. She never had any time to herself, all thanks to that selfish, adolescent git. Every time she wanted to catch up on her reading, or simply relax in the bath, Malfoy would always find something for her to do. He would whine and scowl in a most aggravating way until she finally gave in. The most infuriating part of all was that they were things he could have easily done himself. Hermione was leaning on tenterhooks. She wasn't that pathetic to let Malfoy boss her around like some braindead slave! After a few minutes of senseless fuming, she heard Malfoy call her from the kitchen.

"Granger! Oh, Granger!" Hermione felt an irksome desire to go downstairs and strangle him. What an ungrateful brat! She went into the kitchen and sighted him sitting sluggishly on the counter, leaning against the wall in an languid way.

"What do you want now?" snapped Hermione testily.

"The toast is soft," Malfoy complained. "Heat it up for me."

Hermione felt again the desire to assainate him right there on the spot. Instead, she compromised by pondering the chances of an axe-murderer burglaring the house while she was out and mangling Malfoy until he was unrecognisable.

"Granger, do you hear me?" Malfoy was saying, bringing Hermione back to Earth.

"Do it yourself," she said, turning away from it.

"But I don't know how!"

"So?"

"But-"

"Shut up."

"But-"

"Leave me alone."

"But-"

"I said-"

"But-"

"Malfoy! Will you just give me some peace already!" Hermione shrieked, fuming. "I've done so much for you and you just turn a blind eye! You're not so helpless! I have to run the entire house and yet I still have to deal with your idiotic insults! You are a useless, stupid, lazy, ungrateful, retarded, childish, idioti-"

Hermione was silenced by something soft pressing against her lips. It was a few moments before she realised Malfoy was kissing her. She squirmed in protest, all the while enjoying it. Blood rushed through her body as Malfoy, caught up in the moment, automatically reached up, running his fingers through her hair and sliding his arm around her waist to pull her closer. She gasped for air when Malfoy pulled back at last.

"What the-" Hermione exclaimed, breathless from both anger and...exhilaration. It had been unmistakably the most intoxicating kiss she had ever been given.

"I had to shut you up some how," Malfoy replied defensively, though seeming a bit uncomfortable too. After all, he had been the one to initiate the whole thing.

There was a bleak pause.

"Goodnight," Hermione said finally, breaking the silence, and walked away hurriedly, not believing what had just happened.

The rest of the summer passed in a blur. Both Malfoy and Hermione were more uneasy around each other, and were relieved when the last day of summer came. After much hunting and searching for books, clothes, and yelling, they found themselves standing outside on the pavement.

Malfoy stared blankly ahead, as though expecting them to be magically transported to King's Cross Station.

"Well?" he said impatiently after some time.

"Well what?" replied Hermione, feigning ignorance.

"Where's the Floo powder?" he answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"We don't have Floo powder, or a fireplace. We're getting there by taxi," Hermione stated simply in the same tone.

"Taxi? Who's Taxi?" Malfoy asked, puzzled.

Hermione laughed. "You'll see."

She stuck out her hand and flagged a cab. Malfoy looked impressed. Hermione was surprised. Didn't Malfoy hate everything that had to do with Muggles? She decided she would ask him if she got a chance. Hermione had noticed that he had been utterly civil towards her after he had...the incident. It was a pleasant change to not have him glower at her every time she entered the room. She wished Malfoy would be like that more often.

Hermione studied his face as they rode in silence, with Malfoy playing with the little electric buttons that controlled the windows. He's not at all bad-looking if he isn't glaring at every Gryffindor he meets, Hermione thought. She slapped herself mentally. He's my arch-enemy! I can't like him!

Hermione did not spare another look at him again.

"Harry! Ron!" Hermione squealed in delight as she hugged her two best friends. Malfoy had slowed them down by making a big fuss over his damaged trunk, and had threatened to sue the driver, causing an argument to arouse. Hermione had gotten fed up and continued on without him. "You look great! How was your summer?"

"Crummy," Harry said, though still grinning humourously. "How was yours? I heard your parents went to the mountains again, but you decided to - Shut up, Ron!"

Hermione grinned. Ron had still not gotten over how 'incredibly funny' it was that Muggles called 'sliding down mountains on wooden sticks' skiing.

"Oh, it was...fine," Hermione said, her voice faltering. She didn't want to know Harry and Ron's reactions if she told them she had spent half her summer living with their worst enemy.

"Great!" Harry picked up Hermione's luggage and headed towards the train. "Let's go, before that git Malfoy arrives and bags the best place."

Hermione followed, dragging Ron along, who was still laughing and muttering about 'sticks' and 'snow'.

When Ron had finally calmed down, they found an compartment and started chatting at random. After a detailed description about what colour Harry's Uncle Vernon's face turned into when mad, which sent them all into hysterics, Harry treated them to Pumpkin Pasties and Chocolate Frogs.

While Harry and Ron lazed around, still throwing out colour suggestions, Hermion reminisced about her summer. Malfoy wasn't that bad...sometimes.

"Cobalt?"

"I really think it was more of a purplish sort..."

"Magenta?"

"Too reddish."

"...Lavender?"

"Your girlfriend? Nah."

Ron ignored this. "Violet, then?"

"Nah."

"Azure?"

"I said it was purpli-"

Just then, the door to their compartment opened. ("Here we go again," Ron said, rolling his eyes; spreading out on his seat and dropping another Chocolate Frog down his throat.) Hermione said nothing but her feeling was mutual. Every year, Malfoy would barge in and let slip a few insults, then smirk and went hunting for other victims to taunt.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought this was the bathroom, Potty," Malfoy sneered. "but, why, so it is!"

"Lame, Malfoy," Hermione remarked coolly, while Harry raised an eyebrow in the background. "Seriously. That was so cringe-inducing I'd have slapped you for it if I could be bothered with a weakling like you."

Malfoy flushed scarlet, and he strode forward in two steps, placing himself in front of her. He grabbed her by the chin and forced her head upwards, causing her to look right into his flashing silver eyes.

"You have no idea what I've been through," he hissed vehemently. "Stop acting like you do. You're nothing but a lowdown piece of scu-"

Hermione blinked. The next thing she saw was Malfoy lying on the floor, apparently Stunned. Harry and Ron both had their wands out, faces white.

"Never insult Hermione," Ron growled menacingly, talking to no one. Both he and Harry kicked Malfoy roughly out and slammed the door. Harry then performed a Locking Charm.

"Colloportus."

Ron took the liberty to resume conversation. "Now, what were we talking about?"

As Harry and Ron talked about - what else? - Quidditch, Hermione breathed deeply to calm her thumping heart. Draco's sudden violent outburst had startled her. Especially after how he had treated her almost civilly over the summer. But that was just temperamental, wasn't it? Hermione thought resentfully. Now he's all healed and happy, so he's stopped sucking up to me.

Or...perhaps...Hermione bit her lip hesitantly. Did I really go too far?

All she could think about for the rest of the journey was the slight flicker of pain she had seen in his eyes.