Chapter 2: Partners?
Five years later- 6th year- September 1
School had just started and already Hermione was freaking out. As soon as she got on the train, she had to leave Harry to go with Ron to go to the prefect compartment.
After the ordeal at the ministry at the end of last term, with the Department of Mysteries prophecy and everything else that came with it, it had been nice to be away from school for a while. She had hardly thought about school until her O.W.L. results came it. Ten Outstanding O.W.L.s! Her parents had been so thrilled to hear her scores!
But now she was back on the train to Hogwarts and was already engrossed in things to do.
"Oi! Watch it!" Exclaimed Ron to a first-year who had run in to him because he had been bumbling down the corridor looking horribly lost and confused.
"Ron! You can't yell at them like that! You're a Prefect, remember?" Hermione snapped, giving Ron a stern look.
"I know I am, that's why I CAN yell at them like that." Ron smiled at her, amused.
Hermione shook her head at him and continued on toward the prefect compartment at the head of the train.
When they got there, Hermione slid the compartment door open to find a blond-haired, fair-skinned boy sitting on one of the seats. Draco Malfoy look up at his visitor and sneered.
" 'Ello Weasel, Granger." He nodded towards both of them, and then turned away. Just because he hated and loathed the pair didn't mean he didn't have manners. Sometimes.
Unlike Hermione, Draco did NOT have a good summer. Because of stupid Potty, Weasel and filthy Granger- the whole lot of them- his father was sent to Azkaban for being a Death eater. How he hated all three of them.
"Hello Malfoy, have a good summer?" Said Hermione, devilishly. She knew the answer to her own question.
Draco had kept his promise to her. He had hated her since first year, and THAT is not going to change, she thought.
Draco stared at Hermione, his eyes boring into hers. "You know bloody well how my summer went, Granger, thanks to you and all your little friends. But I don't want to chat with you two all day; I have more important matters to handle. Have fun doing your prefect duties- don't worry I won't be helping." And with that said, Draco pushed past Hermione, giving her a menacing yet hurt look, and shoved Ron down on his way out, causing Ron to fall on to the seat.
Hermione stared at the compartment door. She hadn't meant to bother him that much. What did he have to do that was more important that prefect duties? She shrugged it off as she sat down- Ron righting himself next to her.
"Filthy prat," muttered Ron.
"Don't worry, Ron, he'll get his one day."
Hermione and Ron sat in silence as they waited for the other prefects and the headboy and girl to arrive.
At dinner Ron and Hermione sat themselves at the Gryffindor table and began talking to Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan.
"So, this Chosen One, eh? Is it true? Does Harry really have to beat You Know Who?" Asked Seamus, wide-eyed and curious.
"Oh, I don't know, none of us heard the prophecy, it smashed near the Hall of Records," Hermione answered simply, looking around as she had just realized something was missing. "Ron, where's Harry. Everyone's already here, except Harry."
"Maybe he got caught up with something, he'll be here, don't worry." Ron said reassuringly.
He and Hermione waited and waited, through the sorting and a good deal of dinner they waited. Finally Harry came in- blood all over his face.
"What the bloody hell," muttered Ron through a mouthful of food, as he nudged Hermione and pointed to Harry who was marching through the large oak doors into the Great Hall.
As Hermione shifted her eyes over towards Harry she caught sight of Draco Malfoy punching the air and laughing with Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson and Zabini.
Harry sat down quickly between Ron and Hermione. Hermione nagged at Harry, but he wouldn't tell them why he was late, and why the hell his face was covered in blood. Hermione caught Draco pointing at Harry. She shifted her eyes from Draco to Harry and back to Draco. She remembered the victorious punching Draco had done. Punching Draco- Harry's bloody nose. That git.
That night Harry went on about Malfoy, claiming that he was a Death Eater. A horrible git, yes, but a Death Eater, that's really rather absurd. Hermione's mind ran over the possibility of Malfoy becoming a Death Eater. "How stupid", Hermione murmured as she drifted off to sleep.
Her dreams were filled with a Death Eater Draco choking her, whispering into her bushy brown hair as she was looking up at Harry who was saying " I told you so, Hermione- you should have listened." She remembered nothing of her dream when she awoke early the next morning.
Classes went on as normal for Hermione- Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, Astronomy, History of Magic. The only part that was unusual was Malfoy.
Malfoy, Hermione noticed, had begun to look at her, and not curl his lip into a disgusted sneer when their eyes met; he even smiled occasionally- to which Hermione immediately averted her eyes.
Draco, too, noticed an increase in Hermione's attention, not just because they occasionally shared prefect duties, but when she did not have a reason to look at him or speak to him. He noticed her also catching him looking at her more often.
He didn't mind looking at her; she was actually rather pretty- once she had gotten her teeth fixed, once she fixed her hair somewhat so it wasn't such a frizz-ball, and after last summer- the incident at the Ministry had definitely caused done something to her. But if she catches me looking at her more, he thought, it means she was looking at me more often, too. But she's too fussy and proud, and a mudblood- she can't possibly fancy me.
And it was true; Hermione had taken a heightened interest in Draco. He was smart, handsome, suave and debonair- but a git. An egotistical one at that. But what was wrong with him, he seemed to argue with Crabbe and Goyle- whenever she saw them together- more than be friendly with them.
In their second week of school Hermione and Draco were forced to be partners in potions- well actually Draco walked over to Hermione and stated that they were a pair.
"We're what?" Asked Hermione flabbergasted.
"Partners, Granger. Can't you hear?"
"Of course I can, twit, but why would you pick me to be your partner? You don't even like me," she stated matter-of-factly, looking at Harry and Ron for help, but found them just as dumbfounded as she was.
"Oh just bugger off, Malfoy, she doesn't want to be your bloody partner, alright," Ron piped up in Hermione's defense, "She's with us."
"No one asked you, Weaslebee, and Granger never said she didn't want to be with me, now did she?" Draco gave Hermione a coy smile. "Plus, we're in pairs today, Weasley, and if you didn't know how to count, a pair means two, not three, and you plus Harry plus Hermione make three.
Hermione knew that Draco was right with that one. Damn it.
Ron's face began to turn red and Hermione knew he was clenching his fists by now too.
"Fine, Malfoy, I'll be your partner for today. Let's just get this over with." Hermione said as she walked quickly over to Draco's cauldron- knowing Draco and Ron shouldn't be within arms distant from each other- and began gathering ingredients.
Malfoy gave Ron a triumphant smile and followed Hermione back to his cauldron. He leaned over his copy of Advanced Potion Making, his hair falling forward, obscuring his grey eyes, and mumbled the directions audibly to himself.
"Must you do that?" Hermione asked exasperatedly.
"Yes, I must," came her answer. "I need to know what we need to do to make the potion."
"Fine." Hermione continued to simmer the puce colored liquid, and began to "stir three and one-half times clockwise, pause for one minute, and repeat."
"Why did you even ask me to be your partner? You are smart enough to do the work with some other partner." Hermione looked inquiringly at Draco, her eyebrows raised.
Draco too raised his eyebrows in response to her question. "Wow, that was almost a complement! To be honest Granger, I didn't want anyone else to be my partner…"
Hermione glanced back up from stirring the cauldron three and one-half times clockwise to look at Draco again- he was smiling at her.
Draco recovered his smile, transforming it into his signature smirk. "…I didn't want to have to do all the work by myself."
Hermione's shock at the earlier statement vanished like the steam that had been coming from their cauldron in coils of green vapor. Of course.
"Right then, you can cut up these roots into one centimeter thick slices, and squeeze this," she handed him a gooey green sphere, " and get all the juice into this phial."
Damn it, Draco thought, this fucking thing is nasty. This will be one hell of a day- it had better be worth it. He looked at Hermione again, her hair frizzy madly due to the vapor that had been issuing from the cauldron, then back at the gooey green mess in his hand, and grimaced.