Disclaimer: No funny message to say that I don't own Harry Potter or other related things...but I don't. So there.
A/N: Well although I don't have many readers/reviewers at this point, I'll still be updating when I can. Sorry it's taken so long for me to get this third chapter up but my theater class has been putting a lot of strain on me and I've just been exhausted. Two weeks of 3-9 rehearsals isn't that great for my health, you know. But I'm now pretty much done for the year so hopefully I'll be able to write a bit more.
As for my story: I know it says DMHG romance, but like I said in previous AN's, it's going to be drawn out. I don't like jumping right into romance, and I want to establish a firm ground on which the characters will be based. Just be patient. It'll all be worth it in the end. I promise.
Any who, enjoy the chapter! R&R!
The rest of the week passed in a blurr. The four teenagers were still cleaning, and the excitement of being allowed into the Order had subsided. Ron continued to brood about Harry and Hermione's strengthening friendship, leaving him out. Every now and again, he would go to either of their rooms and find them both talking. Although they always invited him to join them when such an occurrence happened, he'd only turn his back and walk away. They should ask for his company before getting together and talking, not in the midst of it.
His temper was becoming harder and harder to control as well. Just the sight of them sitting side-by-side made Ron's blood boil. He should be in Harry's place, to be talking and laughing with Hermione, to be the object of her affection. But there was nothing he could do about the current situation without revealing his feelings for Hermione. No one knew Ron better than Ginny, and this is why she went after him one night following dinner. She had seen him glaring daggers at Harry and Hermione throughout the entire meal as they talked about unimportant things, and she wanted to know why.
"Ron!" Ginny ran after her older brother, but faltered when he turned to face her. His eyes were alight with anger that she had never before seen reside in her brother. And it frightened her. "What?" he snarled. "Are you here to laugh in my face?" He was livid, and Ginny became unsure as to whether or not she should pry into her brother's problems. But she hated seeing him like this, so she bravely asked "It's Hermione and Harry, isn't it?"
Ron said nothing, merely stared at his sister. "You're jealous, aren't you?" She grew quiet again, staring at her shoes. Ron still didn't move, but didn't scream in frustration either. Instead, he took a few deep breaths and said in a voice of determined calm, "Ginny, I don't want to talk right now, okay?" He turned his back, but Ginny stopped him. She had already begun her journey into the pits of her brother's anger, and there was no turning back now that she had. "Well maybe it's time you do talk about it. It'll only get worse if you don't. And who else do you have to turn to?"
Ron's back was still to her, but Ginny saw the tension ease slowly from them. "Alright," he said. "But you have to promise not to say anything to anyone. I mean anyone. Not mum, not Luna, and especially not Hermione or Harry. Okay?" Ginny screwed an appalled look on her face and replied, "Do you really think I'd do that? I'm not that insensitive to your feelings, Ron."
"I'm sorry," he apologized, his voice full of shame. Ron ushered his sister into one of the unused bedrooms, then closed and securely locked the door. A few minutes passed in silence, neither wanting to be the first to speak. "Well?" Ginny asked after the quiet became unbearable. "You're right," Ron confessed. "I am jealous. Do you have any idea how long I've had feeling for Hermione?" When Ginny shook her head, Ron began again, not stopping until he'd gotten out all he'd wanted to say.
"Since first year when she was almost killed by that troll. She just looked so scared and helpless and there was something in her eye that made me want and need to protect her. When I got that club in the air I felt like I would be her hero. I saved her life! I knew then that I could protect her if anything put her in danger. And then we got closer during the year and when we went after the stone, I was a knight. I thought she would see me as one. And then in second year, when she'd been petrified...I didn't know what I would do. What if I couldn't ever hear her laugh again, or see her smile, even argue with her about homework and other things? I thought I'd lost her Ginny." He paused for a moment, just a few seconds, then continued. "Third year I liked her more than ever. Fourth year... when I saw her dancing with Krum...it was almost more than I could stand. I wanted to rip him limb from limb. How could she have gone with him when I was right there in front of her! I know I could have changed the problem by just asking her in the first place but I wasn't about to admit that I liked her. It would be too embarrassing. Malfoy would've had a field day when he found out and we both get enough from him. I didn't want to put her through that. And just.." He began to curse under his breath very quickly while pacing the room, running his hands through his hair. "Six years, Ginny. And now Harry is in the spotlight again, just like always. And Hermione fancies him when I've been here all along, waiting for her to notice me."
Ginny bit her lip, unsure of what to say. The two siblings were very close to one another in age and were good friends. But even so, Ginny had never seen her brother in such a state as he was in now. His emotions might put fire to something that wasn't meant to burn him at all. "Have you talked to them at all?" she asked cautiously.
"How can you even ask that!" Ron exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. "You think I can just go up to Harry and be civil while asking him about his feelings for Hermione when you damn know I can barely control myself ranting about it to you? 'Yeah, Harry, I was just wondering...Are you and Hermione an item now? Because if you are, I'd appreciate it if you broke it off. Why you ask? Because I'm stark raving mad about her!' How could I say that Ginny? They'd both hate me."
They lapsed into silence again; the only sounds were of Ron's breathing and continual pacing. "I could talk to Hermione," Ginny finally offered. "We talk about this kind of thing all the time." Ron didn't answer immediately, but finally nodded in agreement. "Thanks, Gin, I owe you one. But remember: not a word gets out that we talked about this." Ginny nodded in understanding. Then Ron left the room, shoulders hunched, with one last look at his sister. She followed him about twenty minutes later after a lot of heavy thinking.
Three days before they were to return to Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley took the four friends to Diagon Alley so they could get all needed supplies for the upcoming year. After stopping at the wizarding bank, Gringotts, Harry, Ron, and Hermione separated themselves from the two redheaded women who went off in search of potions ingredients. The Golden Trio then wandered up and down the high street, stopping at random shops admiring the window displays, going into other to purchase needed supplies. After about an hour, the three friends headed to Flourish and Blotts where they would meet up with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley.
"I'll be back in a few minutes," Hermione said to Harry and Ron. "I'm just going to get my new arithmancy book. Meet you back her, alright?" The boys nodded and headed off in the opposite direction. Within five minutes, Hermione had found the Arithmancy section and her needed book, "Rydell's Advanced Arithmancy." She was soon immersed in complex equations; so much so that she didn't realize she had a visitor with her among the thick and small volumes.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the little miss perfect mudblood." He saw her shoulders tense at once, and a smirk crept up his face. "Where's scar head and the weasel? They probably got sick of chumming around with a sorry excuse of a witch like you. I don't blame them for leaving you." Draco Malfoy quit talking as she slowly turned to face him.
"Malfoy," she said, nodding civilly to him. With a piercing glare, she turned her back to him once again, trying to ignore the feeling of hatred that was making itself known in the pit of her stomach. "Aw, the little mudblood's afraid to stay anywhere near big, bad Draco Malfoy." He laughed. "I must applaud your parents, though, Granger. They know their place. And they taught you right. They taught you to fear those who are superior to you, like myself."
Keep your head on Hermione. He's only trying to provoke you. Be the bigger person. Don't succumb to his nonsense. You're an intelligent witch, Hermione, don't let him tell you otherwise.
She tentatively looked over her shoulder, wondering where the little ferret had gone off to. She saw him stooping down, running his finger along the glossy spines of arithmancy books, looking for the same volume that Hermione was holding in her hands. He may be a pompous little git, but he was anything but stupid. In fact, he was just below Hermione in academic standings for their year.
"Well, Malfoy, I happen to disagree with you on which of us is superior to the other. I'm not the offspring of a Death Eater." She managed to keep her voice calm and firm while speaking to him. But at the mention of Death Eaters, Draco's eyes hardened and his smirk disappeared.
"I'm disappointed in you, Granger. I always thought you were smarter than you're showing now... Of course my father is a Death Eater. But with that comes a power you can't even begin to imagine." He began to advance on Hermione, malice burning in his steely gray eyes, trademark smirk plastered on his lips. Hermione backed into a bookshelf as he continued to move closer, platinum blonde hair falling into his eyes.
"And I have access to that power whenever I wish." He was still a few feet away from her and he now took some time to examine how she had changed over the holidays. Her honey brown eyes were still the same as they had been the year before, the intelligence still shining through. The tangled bush of auburn hair was no longer a mane of frizz, but a head of shining, silky waves and soft curls that complimented her facial structure and eye color. She'd grown an inch or two over the summer and he skirt showed off long, shapely legs. She'd filled out in some other areas too (as her blouse revealed), and Draco couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight of her.
And although Hermione despised Malfoy, she was still a teenage girl and took notice of the strong arms protruding from his black t-shirt. His shoulders were broad and toned and she could see very faint outlines of newly formed abs and pectorals. The steel gray of his eyes was still piercing and filled with disgust as he looked upon her, the muggleborn...but she noticed something there that never had resided in his eyes while he gazed upon her and she recognized it as hunger; a very adult hunger that she knew all too well from her experiences that summer. And as he continued toward her, the look of desire in his eyes, her focus clouded and she began to let herself remember...
The day was warm and sunny, birds chirping happily in their nests and a soft breeze flirted with the trees and grass, blowing them here and there so tenderly. She had been outside lounging in the sun, hoping to get a base tan from the feeble shafts of sunlight before the intense UV rays shone themselves in all their glory. She took a short dip into her pool and emerged shimmering and comfortably cooler. However, she didn't have a towel out with her. She walked across the newly redone patio and into the Granger's sunroom and called for her father, asking for a towel.
Goose bumps began to cover her arms and legs as the air conditioning hit her wet body. After a few minutes, her father entered the sunroom with a fluffy towel in hand, an odd smile upon his face. "Hey, honey. Nice out isn't it?" He wrapped the towel around her shoulders and held her close, just like he always did. But there was something different about the way he had encased her in his arms. It wasn't natural and Hermione began to feel uncomfortable.
"I-I think I'll go back outside. I'll dry off pretty quickly, maybe get a bit more sun. Thank you for the towel, Dad." She began to pull away from her father, but he just pulled her in closer and replied "No, I think you've had enough sun for today. Time to dry off too." He slid the towel off her arms and began to wipe down her body, all the while speaking as if his behavior meant nothing.
"You're a very pretty girl, Hermione. Quite the little beauty. And I have to say you've blossomed quite nicely." With this, he took the towel and brought it, along with his hand, over her breasts. She was in shock and began to shake uncontrollably. "Aw, you poor thing," her father said, now taking the towel between her legs. "You're shivering, you're so cold. We must get you out of this wet bathing suit."
Mr. Granger then lifted his daughter into his arms and into her room where he set her down beside her bed. "Now to get you out of these wet things." Hermione couldn't make a sound, she couldn't move no matter how hard she tried. How could this be happening to her? And with her father!Her mind clouded over as her father began to undress her, stripping off her bathing suit. Once he was finished, he just stood there, and stared.
"You truly are a beautiful girl, Hermione," and he approached her, hunger burning in his eyes. He traced his thumb along her jaw-line and continued. "I've always known you'd be pretty. Always. And I couldn't wait until you were older, and had curves that I could caress," He moved his hand down her neck towards her chest; "that I could kiss."
He kissed her, and Hermione was repulsed, but could not move. She was too terrified, too ashamed. Once again, he scooped her into his arms and put her on the bed, still talking while undressing himself. "I've waited a long time for this, Hermione. And I know that this will be ecstasy for the both of us." He climbed on to the bed; "I love you, my beautiful daughter." He kissed her forehead, and then the nightmare began…
The eyes of Draco Malfoy were now inches away from her own honey brown ones, and she remembered the pain, the emotional roller coaster of that summer. Oh please, God, please, not again. She turned her head away from him, away from him, shutting her eyes tight. A few seconds later she felt a brush of skin against her cheek and she shivered, as a few hairs were moved off her face.
"That's right, Granger. You should be afraid of me." Malfoy whispered this softly into her ear, and then let her hair drop. When she next opened her eyes, he was gone.
"What took you so long, 'Mione?" Ron and Harry were waiting for her a few minutes later near the entrance, all books paid for. They both had quizzical looks on their faces as she dashed past them, bag in hand.
"I think we should hurry up and get the rest of our things and then head back. It is getting a bit late you know," Hermione replied, easily dodging the subject. She shot out the door of Flourish and Blotts, not looking back for fear of seeing those steely gray eyes.
"Wonder what's gotten her in such a state," Ron said aside to Harry, while they followed her out into the light of the alley. "Hermione! Come back! We've got to wait for Mum and Ginny!" Ron called out to Hermione's back, but to no avail. Her bushy head disappeared in the crowd. Frantically, she searched for a place where she could be alone, to remember, to forget, and above all, to cry.
Although she had been deeply upset by her father's behavior, she had been too shaken to weep. How could he have done that to her? His own flesh and blood? It was a disgusting thing to think about in Hermione's mind and she let herself flash back to after is was over.
"Don't tell your mother about this, Hermione. She wouldn't understand." I don't understand it myself, Hermione thought. "I know you must be very confused, dear, but please don't worry. It's perfectly acceptable."
For days after she couldn't quit thinking about it, how he'd violated her so incredibly, without her consent, without caring what she thought or felt. He was her father for God's sake! How could he just not care about her feelings? So she acted like nothing had happened, like it would never happen again, even though in the back of her mind she knew it would. Her mother didn't notice a thing. Mr. Granger was the same as he had always been.
But Hermione would never let herself be in the same room alone with him anymore. Ever since the "incident" as she had come to call it, she had sensed a dark aura about her father which unnerved her more than the possibility of it happening again. He was dark and cold now, with no fatherly warmth present. He wasn't her father anymore, and she didn't think he ever could be.
And now…Hermione let the dam in front of her eyes break. And she cried.
"Oh, thank the heavens!" Mrs. Weasley came bustling up to the little corner where Hermione had secluded herself from the rest of the witches and wizards congregating in Diagon Alley. "I thought we'd lost you and you'd disappeared somewhere. Good thing we found you. Time to get back…"
"Alright, can I just have a minute?" She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. "I'll be okay," she continued, sensing Mrs. Weasley stiffen at the sound of a sniffle. "Just some allergies."
"Oh. Well okay then. Just a minute though. It is getting a tad late, and I still have to cook dinner!"
In a few seconds however, the star pupil of Gryffindor house regained her composure and stood up, following her friends and Mrs. Weasley back in to the Leaky Cauldron fireplace.
AN: So I hope you liked this chapter! Reviews and criticism are welcomed! Hopefully I'll have a good train of thought for my next chapter and it'll be up fairly soon. But if you read this and would like me to update faster, review help. Any ideas are also welcome.
and heres a quote i found absolutely adorable: So let's be like Romeo & Juliet and fall in love...just to die...