The Passion of Hate and Love
Chapter 15:
Drinks in Hogsmeade; Blossoming Affection
By Callisto Callispi
The next morning, Hermione decided to take advantage of the Hogsmeade trip to buy new dress robes for the Yule Ball. She searched through out the village and finally happened upon a small little boutique that came highly recommended by Parvati and Lavender. Hermione had to admit that she had been a wee bit jealous when she saw their new beautiful, glittering dress robes.
"Oh, may I help you, miss?" A slender woman with dark hair walked over.
Hermione smiled, gazing around the shop. Golden light warmly bathed every single article of clothing, making the robes seem more softer and appealing to the eye. "Yes. Thank you. I have something coming up..."
"Don't tell me. You're from Hogwarts, right? You're here to get a dress for the Yule Ball?"
Hermione nodded.
"Yes, we've had a few girls here and there purchasing robes." She smiled and gently grabbed Hermione's arm. "Let's see what flatters you."
Almost two hours later, Hermione finally made a purchase. The new robes cost almost all of her money -- twenty galleons -- but she thought that they were worth it.
"Oh, it'll look beautiful on you, Miss Granger," the shopkeeper said, beaming and settling the robes into a white box. She wrapped a red bow around the box and handed it to Hermione. "That color is perfect for you and for the winter. You'll look like a princess!"
Hermione grinned, her heart thumping with pleasure. She hugged the package to her chest. "Thank you for your help."
The shopkeeper waved her good-bye as Hermione exited.
She stepped out into the snow and spun around on her heel, staring up at the dark sky, feeling as if she could fly -- she could not remember being so happy this year. She couldn't wait until the Yule Ball. She had everything a girl could possibly wish for — a gorgeous date, incredibly beautiful dress robes, and the honor of being the head girl. Could life get any better for her?
Hermione walked with a small skip in her step. She kicked the snow, grinning madly. A few passing wizards shook their heads at her rambunctiousness. A few minutes later, Hermione entered into a small parlor. She walked up to the counter, ordered a butterbeer, and scurried over to the last empty table. And as the warm liquid rushed down her throat, her whole fingertips tingled. Hermione sighed a closed her eyes, convinced that life could not get any better than right now, yet very much oblivious to the fact that someone was walking right up to her.
X
Draco hated the winter. It was so cold. He loved the coolness of early autumn nights when the summer heat lingered in the evening. But somehow, the Malfoy manor always seemed so cold and drafty.
Draco realized that he hated his father...again. He got another message from Lucius. He was supposed to be here tomorrow to speak with the headmaster. Obviously, this involved muggle-borns. Draco wished that his father would not poke his nose into his life. He only agreed to go to Hogwarts because it was so inaccessible to even the most prominent wizards. Trains were available only six times a year. Once for September, twice for Christmas, twice for spring break, and once for June. Other rides had to be specially arranged. But, of course, Lucius Malfoy would ride his carriage here drawn by his best winged stallions. After all, Malfoys traveled in class.
Draco kicked the snow and cursed in the folds of his scarf. He was glad that he left his fellow Slytherins at the Three Broomsticks. Actually, he was glad to have left that loud parlor. He only wanted to be alone.
Draco spotted a smaller parlor and decided that he was thirsty. He went up to the counter and ordered some heated butterbeer with the actual beer. The girl at the counter didn't ask him for his age — she merely winked flirtatiously and spun around in her short skirt. Draco sighed. He didn't care — he was too depressed and angry to be attracted by some cashier.
He received his drink, and when he turned around, he cursed. All of the tables were taken. His gaze roamed over the room, trying to find an open seat. And sure enough, he spotted a familiar brown head of hair. He peered curiously at the young woman who balanced a small package on her lap then grinned sardonically. Well, well. Hermione Granger. He strode over to her.
X
Hermione stared out into the evening sky. The stars were beautiful tonight and yet she felt so alone here...most of the people in the parlor sat together at the tables in couples. Hermione refused to stare at them — it only made her depressed.
"I'm surprised to see you here, Granger. And away from your two bodyguards."
She jerked visibly. Her eyes narrowed as she saw him looming over her with a glass of red liquid in his hands. "Are you stalking me?" she demanded.
Draco laughed. "Do you want me to?"
Hermione sipped her butterbeer and looked defiantly away.
"Can I sit down, at least, if you are going to be such a snob?"
She was about to tell him to go find his own table, but seeing none available, Hermione spat out, "Go ahead."
"How cordial of you," he said merrily, sitting down.
Hermione still stared outside, endeavoring to keep the blood from rushing to her cheeks. She still couldn't believe that the person that she had kissed for the first time sat across from her. The thought made her shiver, but she did not know whether she shivered from disgust or pleasure.
"Granger."
"What?"
"Look at me."
"No."
A sigh.
"Please?"
"No."
"Why are you being so stubborn?"
Realizing that she was being childish, Hermione slowly reverted her gaze towards Draco. Her eyes met his gray ones.
"That's better. Now people won't stare at me as if I angered my girlfriend."
This time, Hermione couldn't fight down her blush. "I am not your girlfriend, Malfoy," she hissed.
He grinned devilishly. "You're right. Actually, you kiss me as if I were your passionate lover."
He reached over and placed his hand upon hers, rubbing his thumb over her wrist teasingly. She gaped at his audacity.
"So, lover, same time tonight?"
She jerked her hand away, fuming. He laughed at her reaction and took a drink from his glass. Hermione tilted her head suspiciously, smelling something resembling alcohol.
"I don't suppose you have a date for the Yule Ball, right?" he asked casually.
She crossed her arms. "Why do you want to know?"
Draco seemed to think about it then shrugged. "Just curious, believe it or not. Curious whether the plain little church mouse can dance."
Hermione snorted. "Well, since you brought it up, yes. I do have a date."
"With that Hawkings boy, right?"
"No. I'm actually going to the Yule Ball with a someone else," Hermione said, her eyebrows rising slightly in disdain. A small trickle of satisfaction coursed through her as she saw Draco frown.
"Your father doesn't count, Granger."
Hermione sipped her drink, used to his subtle bullying by now. "That's rather obvious, Malfoy."
"So who are you going with? Don't tell me one of those bookworms from Oxford!"
Hermione looked away. Draco laughed mockingly. "Which one is it? The one with the thick glasses? Or the one that stutters whenever he talks to girls? It's rather funny that you've chosen to go with them when all of the Slytherin girls rejected the poor bastards."
"Just stop it, Malfoy," Hermione snapped. "I can't believe that you are so cruel."
Draco kept laughing as if this were the funniest thing in the world.
Hermione watched the liquid in her cup swirl around. "Just shut up, Malfoy. I'm not going with either of them, okay?"
Draco sobered slowly. He bushed back his hair. "So, who are you going with?"
Hermione didn't answer. She could feel Draco's curiosity gnawing at him. She merely took a sip of her butterbeer, trying to swallow down a satisfied smirk. She couldn't believe that she was having so much fun keeping him in suspense.
"So you aren't going to answer me?" he asked.
Hermione merely took another drink of her butterbeer. She was infuriating him, and she loved the feeling.
X
Draco stared at her, taking the last swig of his wine. She was enjoying taunting him. The little vixen.
Her eyes sparkled. She tried to steal little glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. But he was always looking at her. That familiar desire brewed in his stomach. Why did he care if she went with someone from Oxford? Was it because he was jealous? Perhaps. Draco wasn't shocked at that fact. He was merely disturbed.
"You don't mind, do you?" she asked him.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Mind what?"
She allowed the tiniest of grins to grace her lips. "That I won't tell you."
"I'm just curious. What would it matter to me who you're going with?" Draco scoffed.
"Liar."
He stared at her eyes then, for the briefest time, at her lips. For someone who had never kissed, she was a damn good kisser. Draco sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. What was he thinking?
X
Hermione finished off her butterbeer, catching little glimpses of Draco. He was handsome, she couldn't deny that. But...Draco Malfoy was definitely not her type! Hermione always dreamt that she would become hopelessly infatuated with the degree-holding, sparkly-teethed, intelligent men. Draco? She strongly doubted that he would ever decide to attend a magical university, though he was clever in his own little ways. But...he did have nice teeth.
"So you're really not going to tell me who you are going with, are you?" he asked her.
Hermione shook her head.
Draco stared at her in a pondering way, as if he wondered what he should say next. Then, as quick as lightning, he leaned over the table and kissed her. Shocked, Hermione leaned back before she could register the softness of his lips again and stared at him, wide-eyed. He grinned back maliciously, sliding his tongue over his bottom lip.
"Malfoy, what in the world are you doing? I thought we agreed that we wouldn't do that anymore!" Hermione hissed, her crimson cheeks steadily darkening in hue.
"No. You agreed to that. I don't recall saying anything of the sort."
Hermione stood up angrily. "Draco Malfoy, if you ever do that again —"
"Come sit on my lap, sweetheart," he laughed. "I'll give you all that you want."
Hermione grabbed her package. Just as she was about to turn on her heel, Draco's hand shot out to grab her arm. He quickly turned her around, and she flew into his arms.
"You're breaking my heart, Granger," he said quietly, staring intensely at her. "After everything we've been through, you would leave me just like that." His eyes roamed over her face and down her neck. He stopped at her collarbone, perhaps not daring to go down further. "What's in the box?"
Hermione shrugged out of his grip, instantly feeling the cold engulf her. "My new dress robes."
"Sit down, Granger."
She sniffed contemptuously. "You can't tell me what to do."
He grinned back at her. "Just sit. Let's talk."
Hermione glared.
"Well, you're leaving me again, my love?" he asked in a louder voice so to attract the attention of all of those sitting near them. "Where are you going? Oh god, please don't tell me...you're going to him, aren't you? The one who walked in on us when we were in our bedroom."
Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief. "Malfoy! Shut up, you idiot," she hissed, aware of the hostile glances shot at her from the couples.
"You are attracted to him, aren't you? I saw the gleam in your eyes when he came to our flat this afternoon. I can't believe it, love. And after you accepted my ring of promise. My goddamned ring!"
Hermione giggled nervously and stared around. "He's lying. I don't have a ring —"
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's that around your neck? Isn't that my family crest? Didn't you promise me that you would never leave me when you accepted that as a token of my undying affection?"
Hermione caught her breath. He saw it. She looked away from a brief moment. She didn't know why she wore it — maybe because it was his. Hermione felt suddenly so helpless. She was aware of the glares from the neighboring couples. Stiffly, she sat down, glaring at Draco's seemingly innocent face.
"You Machiavellian little worm," she whispered angrily.
"Brilliant man. Have you studied him?" he asked pleasantly, though there was no mistaking the triumphant gleam in his eyes.
Hermione looked away, trying to muster what little dignity that she had left.
"Oh, now Granger, don't tell me that you don't find me the least bit charming."
"Malfoy. I don't find you the least bit charming."
He smirked. "Liar."
Hermione looked away.
"Granger," he started in a much softer voice.
"What?" she muttered.
He leaned in. "You have my ring."
She stiffened. "You gave it to me, Malfoy. Or don't you remember?"
"Incredible. I thought you would have chucked it out of the window by now. I'm actually rather glad that you didn't. That ring has been in my family for generations. I was a fool for ever betting that in the first place — it is far too valuable for that sort of game."
Hermione fingered the metal chain on her neck that she looped the ring with. "Do you want it back?"
Draco seemed to consider the offer, but then, he shook his head. "No. Too easy. I lost my wager, so it's yours to keep."
Despite that, she began to unclasp the necklace from her neck.
"Granger. What the hell are you doing?" Draco asked irritably. "I don't want it."
"But it's yours," she insisted.
Draco shook his head. "Let me think of a more challenging way to get that back. A wager, perhaps?"
Hermione opened her mouth to object, but then Draco placed his index finger on her lips. "Not yet. I'll have to think of the wager this time — it's only fair."
She was about to insist that there didn't have to be a wager to begin with, but, knowing Draco's stubbornness and his determination, Hermione sighed, clasped the necklace back on, and shoved the ring back under her shirt. "Think of it fast, or I might just throw this into the lake."
Draco grinned playfully. "So now that we have that settled, let's focus on the big issue here. Who is the mysterious person, assuming that it's a man, that would be escorting the martyr, Hermione Granger, to the Yule Ball?"
She shook her head. "Malfoy, I don't want to tell you. You're only going to tease me more."
He shrugged. "But its so fun. And anyway, I'm here sitting in front of you so you might as well tell me."
"Because you're sitting in front of me?" Hermione asked skeptically. Then, seeing that he would not waver from this stand either, she finally gave in and said, "Oh all right. I'll tell you who is escorting me."
Draco leaned back on his chair and grinned. "Now didn't I say before that I always get what I want?"
She rolled her eyes before speaking again. "I'm going with Thomas."
"Thomas? Thomas Gordfeller? That fat bloke?"
"Malfoy, stop it. You judge far too many on their appearances."
He sat back, disappointment clearly etched on his face. "Well, Granger, I thought you had better taste than that. Why are you going with him? A pity thing?"
She glared, sorry that she had ever let him sit here. He should have been out in the snow, drinking his beer all alone. She still couldn't believe that he had the gall to drink beer in front of her. As if she wouldn't know. And she could taste the alcohol on his lips. She pushed that thought away, early enough so she didn't blush too badly. "I'm going with Thomas Wellington, Malfoy."
He stared at her, shocked. "Thomas? Wellington? But he would never go out with mug —" He stopped himself from saying anything further, but Hermione knew what he meant. She stared down at the package in her arms, feeling almost embarrassed. Muggle-borns.
"I think you're lying to me," Draco said frankly.
Hermione looked away. She felt...almost ashamed. No. She couldn't feel like that. She was proud of her heritage...even if people like Draco Malfoy thought different.
"Then don't believe, me," Hermione replied icily.
Draco leaned back in his chair and nodded, satisfied. "Fine. I won't. Thomas only goes out with the outstandingly beautiful women. I don't know what possessed him to ask someone with your mediocre looks."
That familiar anger roused within her again. She glared at Draco who only smiled back mockingly. "I am not mediocre!"
He laughed. "Really?"
Hermione calmed herself down before saying anything more stupid. "Remember, Malfoy. I am the Head Girl. I have the power to take away points from your house."
Draco raised an amused eyebrow. "And why is that? For calling you mediocre? God, Granger. I didn't know that you were so vain."
"I'm not as half as vain as you, Malfoy. But I did believe that consumption of alcoholic beverages is illegal when committed by minors."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Good lord. That rule only applies to pregnant women."
"It applies to you too! Twenty points from Slytherin when we get back. You're lucky that I'm letting you off with just a warning."
Draco rolled his eyes again. "Please. Do you really, truly think that I would care if you take off points from Slytherin or not?"
Hermione nodded. "It's your house, isn't it?"
"It's not as if we're going to win the House Cup this year, what with those points taken off from that rather embarrassing quidditch incident."
Hermione felt herself flush once more. She neglected to comment on anything and instead ran her finger over the edge of her package.
"By the way, Granger, have you talked with Zabini, yet?"
Hermione bit her bottom lip and slowly shook her head.
"Well, that is rather fair, isn't it?" Draco sneered. "The Head Girl only yells at people she thinks are bad."
"Look. I just couldn't find the time, all right?" she said hotly. "Anyway, I'm going to speak with him tonight."
Draco looked away, scowling.
"Besides, Malfoy," she added quietly. "I've never thought of Blaise as that."
Draco neglected to answer and they sat in silence for a few minutes. Hermione sighed and rubbed the smooth, golden band of her watch, and when she checked the time, her eyes widened.
She stood up quickly. "We're going to be late!"
Draco stared at her. He looked at his own pocket watched and raised a bored eyebrow. "Relax. My watch says to stay a bit more." He showed it to her and Hermione stared at it suspiciously. It was a watch of the wizarding world, one that didn't show the hour but dictated what to do.
She shook her head. "Well I have to go. The Head Girl always has be there early to make sure the younger students are checked in."
"But you'll be twenty minutes early," Draco complained.
"Well, I didn't say that you had to follow me," she said primly. Then, just as she turned around to walk off, she pictured Draco here, sitting alone, guzzling down alcohol by himself. The image making her feel rather guilty, she faced Draco again, biting her lip, and held out her hand.
"What?" he asked in an accusing way, staring at her hand.
"Get up, Malfoy. Come with me."
He stared up at her, shock and distrust lingering in his pale eyes.
She offered him a hesitant smile. "I know that you don't want to be at the carriages, but being bored with company beats being bored alone, don't you think so?"
Draco stared up at her face, that familiar softness brewing in his usually hard eyes. Hermione felt her heart swell a bit. Despite all of the mean, cold things that he had said to her, she felt pride when she saw that look in his eyes because she knew that that look was only reserved for her. That was the look that signaled his submission.
He smiled wryly and looked out the window, muttering something to himself. Then he looked up to face her and accepted her hand. His palms warmed her cold skin as she pulled him up, not that he needed help standing. He checked the clasp to his cloak and smirked at her.
"Now, you're not just asking me to accompany you just because you're afraid to walk there by yourself, are you?" he asked teasingly as they walked out.
Hermione grinned in spite of herself. "Of course, Malfoy," she said innocently. "Why else would I allow you to take me anywhere?"
Draco smiled back at her for a moment, and Hermione flushed slightly before looking out towards the door. He smiled. He truly smiled. She had never seen a true smile grace his lips before — only smirks, sneers, and scowls. But it looked rather nice on him. She wouldn't mind seeing that on his face more than once.
But just before they exited, Draco turned back to the expectant people watching them exit and winked. "We've had a charming time."
Cold air escaped from their lips as soon as they were outside again. And despite the chilly night, Hermione felt warm all over. She tried to convince herself that it was the warming effects of the hot butterbeer and that she was still happy over her new dress and gorgeous date. But she knew fully well that those delightful things didn't cause these warm twinges in her stomach.
Hermione purposely stared down at the ground just to see his and her booted feet moving coherently down the icy cobble-stoned street next to each other. Her heart fluttered as she felt the fabric of his long cloak next to her. It was these times that she felt as if she were truly in love with someone. She felt so elated that even the once-sharp pinches of regret that the man who she was supposedly in love with was Draco Malfoy dulled.
"So why did you keep my ring, Granger?" Draco asked softly.
Hermione hesitated before answering. She took it out and stared at it. She never noticed it before but it had the seal of the dragon and snake encrusted with diamonds and emeralds. The single band of white gold, perfectly masculine, had ornate designs carved on the surface. Slytherin, for sure.
"I don't know," she admitted. "But now that I look at it, it does seem too pretty to throw into the lake, doesn't it?"
"You had better not, Granger," he retorted. "It's worth a fortune. Ten fortunes, actually. It's been in my family since King John signed the Magna Carta."
Hermione's eyes widened. "That's the thirteenth century. Wow. Your family is old."
"Older than that, actually," Draco stated nonchalantly. "A grandfather of about twenty 'greats' preceding was a powerful duke of England with intimate connections with the royal family probably a generation and a half before John, and an uncle of about eighteen 'greats' co-wrote the Magna Carta, and a few centuries later, a faction of the Malfoy family produced some archbishop or another. Don't bother trying to find anything of the Malfoy name in the muggle history texts, though. They've been wiped out during the centuries of Inquisitions, and whatever name of the wizarding world exists to the present day has been cleared by the Ministry except for people who're too well-known. Like Merlin."
Hermione stared back at the ring and then at Draco's face. He stared straight ahead, his expression hard. Hermione lowered her gaze. Even with that impressive heritage, he still didn't seem satisfied. Or rather, he didn't seem to care.
"Would you like to try it on?" he asked suddenly.
Hermione looked up at him. "Try what on?"
"The ring, idiot," he remarked, seeming slightly exasperated at her slowness.
Before Hermione had time to protest, Draco slipped Hermione's glove off of her left hand and slid the cold ring over her index finger. Still it hung very loose, and the crest looked very large. Hermione was very surprised by his suddenness but she stared at the crest. It was a very beautiful ring, but too sinister-looking and regal for her tastes.
"Hm, well, it doesn't seem to flatter you," Draco remarked honestly when he held her hand towards him.
She laughed. "Malfoy, it's rather large. And sparkly."
Draco shrugged and slipped his gloves back on. "But green flatters you."
Hermione laughed again as she placed the ring back into the folds of her shirt. "Green?"
"I don't know. It makes you look more flushed...I suppose," Draco said, brushing off that remark with a wave of his hand a few seconds later.
They walked together in silence for a few more minutes. They passed a few old witches with wrinkles lining their faces like cobwebs. They stared at Hermione and Draco almost enviously. Hermione heard one of them say behind her, "How enchanting to be young and in love again."
Hermione flushed, having half the mind to turn around and tell her that she and Draco were not in love, but Draco, almost seeming to read her mind, grabbed her by the hand and whispered in her ear, "Let the crazy bat think what she likes. She's too old for us to disillusion her."
Hermione wanted to say something back to him, anything, but she found that she was at a loss of words. Draco tightened his fingers around Hermione hand, and she slowly began to entwine his fingers through hers.
Her heart thumped when she thought of how they were walking together, holding hands, and at such a proximity with each other. Their shoulders touched intimately.
"You know," Draco said softly so only she could hear. "I — I want to —"
Hermione looked up at him with a small smile. "You want to what?" she asked, the endearment 'Draco' on the tip on her tongue.
He paused, perhaps trying to see if he could word what he wanted to say differently. But he couldn't. "I want to — to thank you."
She tilted her head slightly, mildly surprised to hear him thanking anyone. She had never heard him show his gratitude to anyone or anything before so sincerely. Perhaps it was because no one did anything worth while that merited his thanks. "For what?"
He chuckled wryly, letting go of her hand. His arm snaked behind her back and looped around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Hermione, no longer shocked by any show of affection from Draco, allowed herself to be engulfed in his warmth. She felt so secure and comfortable against him, breathing in his fresh, masculine scent.
"For asking me to go with you. It was rather decent of you," he admitted.
Hermione leaned her head slightly against his shoulder, for the moment not caring who saw them. "You don't have to thank me for that," she said softly. "I would have been lonely anyway."
They walked like that until Hermione spotted the carriages up ahead. She would have pulled herself away from Draco's warmth, but somehow, with each step, it became increasingly difficult to do just that. Draco didn't seem to want to let go of her either.
But when she heard Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice, the man who was the supervisor of this Hogsmeade trip, Hermione bit her lip and stopped walking. Draco did also and they stood in the shadows, hidden from prying eyes. Hermione desperately craved his warmth, and the thought that she would have to part with him made her that much more desolate.
"You're fifteen minutes late, Head Girl," Draco leaned in and whispered into her ear.
Hermione smiled as Draco's warm breath brushed over her neck. "I know."
"So you're still going to take away twenty points from Slytherin?" he asked with an amused grin.
Hermione playfully pushed him away. "So is this why your manner was so decent all of a sudden?" she demanded, pretending to be angry. But her smile gave away her enjoyment of being here with him. Amazing how she could feel so warm with him just staring at her so softly.
"Of course," Draco said quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Well, I don't want to have you exert yourself for no reason. I'll let you off the hook this time, Mister Malfoy." Hermione craned her neck to look over his shoulder. She spotted a group of Ravenclaws heading over in this direction. "Oh, I had better go and make sure everyone comes..."
Draco stared at her one last time and ushered her towards the carriage. He followed her while placing a modest distance between her and him. And right before Flitwick greeted them, Draco managed to whisper into her ear once more: "Well, we'll see if this little church mouse can dance, shan't we?"
Hermione looked at him, raising a superior eyebrow. "You just watch, Malfoy."
End Notes: Wow. Lil' ol' angsty me writing FLUFF! The world is coming to an end. ;)