CHAPTER 7: Boyfriend and Girlfriend
Glad that her Draco was back, hopefully forever now, and hopefully not just until the next mistake, Hermione found the journey quite pleasant. Even as they soared through the cloud cover and got soaking, Draco leading them as undeniably as if he had a compass in front of him, Hermione was delighted. She curled up against his back once again, but did not fall asleep this time.
Although she wished she had been dozing off, for if she had, the topic that snatched her mind from her would probably remain forgotten. She had tortured and killed someone. She was now utterly unsure of who was in that body of hers, as the other (the real?) Hermione Granger would never do such a thing. She didn't know herself anymore.
But then again, she thought, didn't that start this summer? The other Hermione would never have gotten drunk, or stayed out late, or gotten a tattoo. The other Hermione would never have done any of this. Which is the real me? This one, the hard, cruel, bitch who follows Lord Voldemort, or the other one who loved her books more than her life, and would never have been tough enough to confront the fact that her friends didn't care?
But…I'm still a bookworm. I'm still the other Hermione, but only deep down. I still have the same traits, and though my study schedule has been thrown off-kilter by all this mess, I still manage it as though my life depended on it. Though I haven't been spending much time with Harry and Ron, that's to be expected, as they don't really like me. I'm just adapting my life to something more suited to what's going on.
Satisfied that she'd come to a conclusion, she relaxed slightly on the broom. But even so, she had killed someone, and it hadn't been an accident. She would pay for that in time, she was sure of it. And she didn't want to forget it, because it was a constant reminder of who she had become. Though she was not proud of that part of her new self, she didn't particularly mind the rest of the changes. She was now more self-confident, more independent. She didn't answer to Harry or Ron (she overlooked the fact that she never had), and she would be a friend to whomever she wanted.
Smiling gently to herself, she gave the boy in front of her a gentle squeeze, kind of like a hug from behind. Or at least, that's what it was meant to be. She thought he got the hint, though, as one of his hands came up and tenderly brushed her arm in a rather comforting way. It just made her grin even wider, and she actually opened her eyes to look up at him. He wasn't facing her, but she knew he was probably smiling too. Closing her eyes, she went back to the sightless discomfort of flying, knowing it would be worse if her eyes were open.
They gently dipped beneath the clouds, and Hermione clung more tightly to Malfoy (Draco? She still wasn't quite sure what she should be calling him, even if it was only in her head). She knew he was only looking to see where they were, but even so, it was scary enough to be flying without regular dips below the clouds.
"It shouldn't be too much longer now, and then we can walk some," he said in a strained voice. They had been riding for hours, and it was taking a toll on both of them. Hermione's arms and legs were cramping, and she was sure he was just as sore as she was. The high altitude was making them both pant, unable to get more than a cursory about of oxygen into their lungs. She nodded into his back as they flew on.
Malfoy dipped below the clouds again, and Hermione chanced a glance down before she realized what he was doing. The sudden dive whipped the air from her lungs, and her eyes teared up before she had a chance to close them against the rushing wind. They landed rather gracefully in a clearing in a small thicket, though their dismount was far clumsier than their landing. Stiff and sore, and Hermione still wiping the tears from her eyes, she slid off the broom with a resounding plop and sat there for a second, gulping up glorious, oxygenated air.
Draco eased himself off the broom, grimacing as his muscles complained. She gave him a wry smile and he said, "You'll probably be even worse by the time we're back at school. You won't have slept, and you'll be sore and tired, and probably grouchy." She shrugged from the ground to find even her shoulders ached from having been holding onto him for so long. She winced at the pain.
"Want some help up?" he asked, offering a hand. She took it gratefully, hauling herself to her feet. She thanked him, and he grunted in response, turning in a circle to get his bearings.
Hermione laughed, "You're soaking," she said, pointing out the obvious.
Draco gave her a funny look before answering, "As are you." It was only then that Hermione realized her clothing was soaked, and leaving a muddy puddle where she stood. Her cheeks flamed as she realized how stupid she must have sounded. Catching her expression, Draco chucked in a friendly way as he pocketed his now-small broom and picked a direction, "This way."
She followed him through to the edge of the copse and stopped. "Wow," she breathed. The sun was setting behind a far off hill, making the clouds bloody and purple. In the dying light, the town at their feet sparkled. Draco smiled at her reaction, lovingly taking her hand and leading her down the hill.
"We can't dawdle, we don't have time," he said gently. She nodded, but kept her eyes on the sunset, trusting Malfoy utterly to not let her fall as he guided her towards the town. The sun sank beneath the hills like an anchor in water, and a light rain began to fall. Malfoy swore under his breath, and she looked up at him. He smiled ruefully, "I wanted to actually dry off sometime this night."
Grinning, she nodded back at him and picked up her pace to walk side-by-side with him. For a moment, he still held her hand, as if she was still behind him and he was still leading her. But she glanced over and looked him in the eye curiously, and he seemed to realize what he was doing and let her hand drop. She choked on a sigh, refusing to let him hear the dismay in it.
They walked in silence, and the silence grew rather awkward. They trailed through town, and only when Hermione saw a few restaurants did she realize she was hungry. Her stomach gave a loud gurgle, and she blushed. Draco grinned and pulled her into a little pastry shop, where they bought several sugary breads. Feeling the need more for time than for anything else, they ate as they walked down the street, even though the drizzle made their food soggy.
However, to their empty stomachs, even soggy bread was good, and they wolfed down the food eagerly. "We can sneak into my kitchen at home, and eat more there. We should be there in about an hour."
"Where is it?" she asked.
Looking thoughtful, he cast his eyes about the hills surrounding where the sun had trickled between them like the sands of an hourglass and pointed to one house that was still illuminated by the sun's vanishing rays. He pointed at it, "There. But it'll take some time to go through the security system and such. Father's got it all set up for aurors, so it rarely lets anyone in unless you know how. And even then, if you're not father or mother or me, it'll take time, and we'd need father or my mum to program the system to let strangers in. Which means we have to go in the hard way."
Hermione swallowed the last bit of her pastry. "Malfoy, why didn't you trust your mum to just send me my wand?"
"I don't want her in my room. She'd go poking around, I know it. And then she may even do things with your wand, setting it up so that it would record what happens whenever I'm near you. No," he said flatly, "she's too curious about our relationship, or even just about you." Draco looked at her apologetically. "Sorry, but that's my mum for you."
Hermione was rather horrified by this. "She'd really do that? You're not joking?"
Malfoy looked at her, and in the lamplight of the town, his face was deadly serious, and even the rain that dripped off his hair and nose couldn't dampen the effect. "My mum would do much more to get closer to the Dark Lord's daughter. She would do anything to know what makes you tick, what disgusts you, what fascinates you. What you love." He gave her a look then, and it seemed his gaze pierced her heart. "Then she would use that information against you in any way she could, just to get you to bend to her will, just for the fun of manipulating you, breaking you. I've seen her do it. I've seen her have her fun. I don't want it to happen to you," he said tenderly, not meeting her eyes.
She melted into his voice. He did care. He did. She couldn't help the loving smile she gave him (or perhaps she only gave it to him because she knew he would not see) as he said that, or the way her heart managed to thump just a little harder than it had before. They trekked through the town and up the next hill with little conversation, and his confession hung in the air tangibly between them.
But neither made a move or a sound to clear the air, leaving the fact that he cared between them.
Breathing heavily, and thoroughly soaked from the sprinkle that had recently become a downpour, they reached the Manor. Hermione gaped up at it. In the darkness around, the outside was elegantly lit, a beckoning but cold brightness in a world of night. It was the first time she had seen the outside of Malfoy Manor, and she was impressed. It was made of stone, and looked vaguely like a castle, with two towers on either end of it and a large, arched doorway.
Malfoy pointed to the tower on the left, "That's the library. It goes down through all five floors," his hand moved to gesture at the other tower, "My room. It doesn't look round from the inside, but it is. And the tower looks small on the outside here, but its really rather roomy inside. But you already knew that, didn't you," he smiled at her.
"And…ah," he said pensively, scanning the windows. "The room right there is my mum and father's room." He squinted. "She must be in the study, doesn't look like their light is on, but the one in the study is. Hm…It must be about nine at night then, mum doesn't usually go to the study until half past eight, and she usually stays for an hour before going to the library. She usually falls asleep in one of the library's chairs," he continued as if it was a secret, "Mum doesn't usually sleep in her room anymore, not since father's been gone."
"And then…off to the right there, all you can see is a large dark window, but that's the drawing room, and then on the other side to the left is the dining room…" As he spoke, he pulled her off to the side of the huge wrought iron gates, leading her off to the right side of the house where a huge tree overhung the metal bars of the fence.
Pausing near the trunk, he turned around and encompassed her whole body within his gaze, neatly looking her up and down. Feeling exposed, she wrapped her arms around herself, knowing exactly how her muggle clothes were sticking to her skin because of the continuing rain. The corner of Draco's mouth twitched up at this, but he asked her in a slightly disappointed tone, "You've never climbed a tree, have you?"
An indignant reply dissolved upon her lips. "I did, once. When I was twelve. I couldn't get back down and haven't climbed a tree since," she said stiffly.
"Maybe you should wait out—" he began.
She didn't quite manage to stop the strangled noise before he heard it, and at his strange look, she cried, "Don't leave me out here!"
Malfoy shrugged, "It would be faster, and far easier on both of us if I did…." Eyes wide with fright, she shook her head frantically. "Okay. But I warn you not to make a sound. It may set off more alarms than we want, and we don't want my mum knowing we're here." Nodding solemnly, Hermione watched the boy swing easily into the tree, even though its bark was damp.
Hesitating, she gripped the lowest branch and levered herself up onto it clumsily. Her heavy clothing didn't help at all, and the fact that the tree was just as wet as she was made it even harder to climb. Draco was already a few layers above her, and had paused to look down on her ascent. Gritting her teeth and knowing how ineptly she climbed, she leaned far out and grabbed the next branch, pulling herself up onto it. The boy had already gracefully scrambled up a few more layers in the tree, where the branches were thin, and looked like they barely held his weight. He crouched down on this branch as she awkwardly clambered up the next branches, slipping and cutting her chin once. She could feel the blood drip down her neck, but knew it was not a bad injury and ignored it as she climbed.
At last, she reached the branch just under where he knelt. Breathing heavily, she looked up at him defiantly, as if daring him to tell her just how incompetent she was at climbing. She wiped off the blood that had dripped down her neck and his eyes looked at her concernedly at the wound. But he said nothing, and she took his cue to mean that now they were entering dangerous territory, and could not speak.
He pulled his broomstick out of his pocket and changed it back to its original size. Looking down at her and then to the house indecisively, he chose to risk it and leaned down close to her, quickly whispering, "stay low" in her ear. She nodded, ignoring the way his quiet voice sent warm shivers down her spine.
Like a monkey, Draco expertly scampered down to the edge of the branch. Hermione was surprised it still held his weight, but hold it did, and he mounted his broom at the very end of it. He carefully held his broom parallel to the end of the tree branch, as if the alarm would trip if he went beyond that. He looked back to her, and his gray eyes asked her to come.
Biting her lip, she followed his example, staying low to the branch, and just dropping onto the broom at the end. She marveled at the speed he'd managed on the wet branch—she had nearly fallen off of it. Malfoy leaned far forward, as if trying to melt into the broomstick, and she followed his lead, nearly lying down on his back. Unsure of where to hold on, she wrapped her arms tightly around his body and disregarded the press of the wood of the broom against her wrists.
Draco edged out over the end of the branch. Hermione wondered what the sensors (were there sensors?) thought of this. Maybe they just thought the tree was growing? It might have looked like that from the side. Maybe the rain even helped them now, as it might disguise them even a little from the sensors? She snapped her jaws shut on a gasp as they suddenly dove down toward the grass. She sat up a little, only to lurch forward as Malfoy grabbed her wrist and yanked her down. They hung there, mere inches above the ground, waiting for some sign that they had set off the alarm.
Exhaling, Draco urged the broom across the neatly trimmed lawns, and they zipped over to the wall. She could practically feel him grinning. He lived for this, the rush of excitement from the overwhelming sense of risk and danger, and she could feel it. She grinned with him then, because even though she couldn't see it, she could feel his happiness, and it was contagious.
But instead of stopping in the little alcove on the wall, Draco banked sharply, and they went vertically up the wall. Hermione wrapped her legs and arms tighter around the broom, feeling Malfoy flinch as her arms cut into his sides. It was so swift that it was only for a few seconds, this vertical flying, and then they reached the tower room. "Dismount," he barked quietly to her.
"W—what?" she said. She could see nowhere to stand but where a stone had come loose from the wall and created a ledge about three inches wide, and it was probably slick with rain.
"Dismount," he hissed. "Stand on that ledge."
Shaking, she unwrapped her legs and slid off the edge of the broom. "Faster," he urged frantically.
Before letting go, she looked up at him one last time. "I trust you," she said, not knowing why she said it. They both understood. She was trusting him not to leave her there. She dropped onto the ledge and teetered for a moment before he grabbed her shoulder and slammed her up against the wall. She choked on a cough as her breath puffed out, but managed to not make a sound, and held herself up against the wall as stiffly as a board may, reluctant to fall from five stories up.
Draco dropped back down into the alcove and disappeared from sight. He did not come up again from there, having gone somewhere else entirely. She closed her eyes against the darkness and carefully concentrated on not moving. A window above her head opened quietly, though she could hear it. Her heart pounded as she squirmed to stare up at the window, unsure if it was Malfoy or his mother, and not knowing what would happen if it was the latter.
It was just Draco, and he looked down on her from right above her head. In fact, she had not noticed (in the rain, she hadn't been able to see it, and she'd been too worried about the fact that the ledge she was supposed to stand on was only about three inches wide) that it was actually only a few inches above her head. He offered her his hand, and she gripped it, grimacing at how wet and slippery both of them were. She spun slowly on the ledge to face him, bracing herself with his weight. He won't let me fall, she told herself quietly.
As if he had heard her thoughts, his hand gripped her even harder, and though it was a little painful, it was more comforting than anything else could have been right then. Finally, she had her belly to the wall. Draco reached down and took her other arm close to the shoulder, then slid his other hand to grip her there as well. Putting her hands on the sill, and with his help, they heaved her up and over, where she promptly fell flat on him.
For a second, they did not move, and their eyes met. But then a drop of water dripped on him, and they remembered that they were here, soaking wet, and that they were here for a reason and mustn't be caught. Malfoy eased her off him and went to close the window. She stood up too, and went over to the bed and took her wand off the nightstand. As one, they glanced to the ceiling for the clock.
Draco wrinkled his nose, a childish gesture that made Hermione burst into a short-lived laugh. "It took us nearly seven hours to get here." He turned back to her. "You got it? Good. We can visit the kitchens before we go, I'm starved, even after what we ate in that town." She nodded her head eagerly, and he grinned at her.
But then his grin fell, and he turned serious. "We can't make a noise. We can't let the house elves see us, unless I expressly allow them to. If mum knows we're here, there will be trouble, but there are a few elves loyal to me and who will not tell my mum anything," smirking, he added, "Of course, that's most of the nighttime kitchen staff. Mum seems to think that even a growing boy needs to eat daintily. I usually have to slip down there for more food after dinner."
Hermione smiled back at him. He went to the closet and pulled out a set of clothing. Biting the inside of his lip, he looked back to her and examined her closely, at length pulling another pair of pants from the closet and then going over to a chest of drawers and rummaging through two drawers before he found a shirt. Handing the second outfit to her, Draco said, "These should fit you okay…if they don't, we'll find something else, but we need to get out of these wet clothes before we do anything. We'll get sick.
"You can change in the bathroom again," he said. Nodding, she took the clothes and went through the door. She stripped off her wet attire, folding the items neatly, and then she dried off her undergarments with a twist of her wand. The jeans she pulled on were a little too long, and really baggy, but they fit her around the waist and were dry—she wasn't about to complain. The shirt was black (typical of him, she thought in exasperation) and a wife beater, and she dragged it on. The shirt was a little long, but it didn't look too bad. She tucked her wand in one of the huge pockets of the pants and went to use the brush she'd used last time. Halfway through brushing her hair, there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," she said. Draco poked his head in and looked exasperated, though her clothing seemed to amuse him.
"You don't have time to brush your hair," he informed her.
"Well, too bad. If it dries like this, it'll be really tangled. I don't want it to be tangled," she told him.
Sighing, he tapped his foot impatiently as she finished brushing her hair. "See, done, let's go." She picked up her clothes from the floor and looked at them uncertainly.
"Leave them. You can get them next time we're over. Anyways, it'd be good for you to have some other change of clothes here so you won't have to wear mine next time. The Dark Lord likes having parties over here. Though he doesn't usually attend, he will most likely send you more so that they'll get used to you." She glanced down at the Dark Mark that marred the beautiful skin of his left forearm.
"Probably," she agreed.
"Half past ten," he said, glancing up. "We should be back at school by six in the morning," he said, as if this was good news. She smiled wearily at him, and they left. As they haunted the halls, they jumped at every sound, dove into niches at the slightest sign of someone coming. Often, they ended up in cramped positions in alcoves, waiting for the steps to pass, and then they would scurry on their way.
More surprising than the amount of house elves that wandered the halls at night (therefore determining the number of times the couple had to dive into alcoves and niches or behind corners) was the fact that Hermione didn't particularly mind the cramped quarters with Draco. She didn't care that they were squashed up together in the small recesses if his walls, though she had the sneaking feeling she would mind if it were anyone else.
Finally they reached the kitchens, and Malfoy gave a childish knock that rang with a tone, as children who usually make code-knocks so their friends know who is at the door. A confused house elf opened the door in confusion, frowning when it caught sight of them. "Master Malfoy should not be here!" it squeaked uncertainly.
"I know, that's why you won't ever tell my mum or have another elf tell my mum. In fact, you won't say a word of my visit tonight. That's an order," he said, brushing past it. Hermione hesitated, then followed after, scowling at his harsh tones. Seeing her look, he rolled his eyes, "I had to, that's one of my mum's elves. Would tell her anything if I didn't expressly order him not to."
Still uncertain, Hermione nodded, and he miraculously got halfway through the room before the elves swarmed him. "Master Malfoy, sir, you have returned!" one squeaked. She heard another high voice say, "Master Malfoy, it is you, sir!" and several other similar greetings as they all mobbed him with hugs. She was shocked at the display of affection toward him, and he turned back to her grinning.
"Everyone, this is Hermione, she's a friend of mine." The house elves' faces lit up at this, and they all ran over to mob her as well, except for a few, who stayed by Malfoy to ask what he wished for. She heard at least a dozen greetings, and she smiled down at the house elves.
"Oh, Miss Hermione is so gracious and beautiful, she is!" one elf piped up. Hiding a grin, she asked his name. He bowed so that his nose touched the ground and squeaked, "Miss, I am Fenens, Miss!"
"Thank you for the complement, Fenens," she said. Many of the other elves squeaked happily and tried to comment her some more, but she looked over at Malfoy, who was looking at her in amusement from a small kitchen table laden with food. Grinning at Draco's amusement, she turned to the elves, and said, "Thank you, but we really must eat and be on our way." She waded through the crowd of elves and slumped into the seat across from Draco.
"Coffee?" he offered. Looking disgusted, she nodded. Personally, she hated the taste of coffee, but she would need the caffeine before too long. He laughed at her look and poured her a cup before they fell upon the food and ate in silence. As she reached for her second cup of coffee and made a face at the taste, gulping it down despite it, Malfoy burst into laughter. She politely put down the mug of coffee and looked at him.
When Draco's laughter was under control, she asked, "And what exactly is so funny?"
"Well, we…you…" Though he had clearly tried not to, he exploded into another fit of giggles. "Oh, I'm sorry. It's just, we have soda. And I was going to wait for you to ask for something else to drink with caffeine, but the look on your face was so cute when you drank it…" he wiped a tear from his eye and looked at her.
Her own look at him was murderous, and he chucked again. Fenens, having caught the gist of their conversation, offered her a can of coke. Seeing that she took it, several other elves offered some to her too, and she accepted from all of them. She drank three sodas before they left, and when she was sure the other boy wasn't looking, carefully cast a charm to quicken her digestive system so that she could use the bathroom before they left and get all the fluids out of her body and wouldn't have to stop them on their way back to Hogwarts.
Before they left, she asked him if they could stop at the bathroom first. Nodding, they scampered down a hall, and into the office/study room that she'd been in when meeting Voldemort before the ball. He pointed to the door to the bathroom, and she followed the point of his arm gratefully, already feeling the charm working.
When she was done, he went, and she looked at some of the books on the shelves around the room. There were some rather interesting texts there, and she marveled at the rarity of some of them. Then he came out again, and they were ready to go. "We'll go out the front door this time. I reset the alarms. They should stay off for the next ten minutes." They hurried down the hall, leaving his house through the front door this time.
His broomstick waited outside the door for them. Giving her a tired look, they mounted once again and flew off into the night…
Ginny waited, thinking over the finer details of her plan. Oho, was Hermione ever in for it. As soon as she got back from her current rendezvous with Malfoy, there would be some serious blackmail opportunities. Being a prefect, she was allowed to wander the halls at night (within reason) but you couldn't be over cautious. She paused at a corner as the Bloody Baron floated by before continuing. She wasn't sure what time Hermione would be back, but she knew she'd be coming from the outside (another undisclosed look at the Marauder's Map had told her they weren't in the castle), and she would wait for them, catch them together.
Then her plans would be cemented.
Hermione and Malfoy landed at the edge of the forest, pulling on their robes. Deciding it was still early enough that they had time to walk it, they opted to do that rather than sit, as sore and weary as they were, on the broom again. Thankfully, though, both had managed to stay awake on the return trip, though they were as dripping wet as when they'd arrived at Malfoy Manor. Walking would also ease this, and it was voted a good idea all around.
They walked in silence, too weary (though alert because of the caffeine) to make speech. It had come to the point where they were beyond sleep, and just didn't feel sleepy any more, which may have also been helped because of how their bodies ached from being on the broom. It took them the better part of an hour, but they finally reached the doors to the Entrance Hall. Draco grasped the handle, and then there was a little cough behind them. They turned slowly around, Hermione's mind panicking.
It was just Ginny, though she had the largest grin on her face. Hermione felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Ginny didn't look like she'd gotten much sleep either, but seemed to be wide awake and in a good mood now that she'd caught her prey. "Hermione…I think we need to talk."
Stifling a groan, Hermione waved Malfoy away. He walked inside, and the doors closed behind him with a soft snap. Pessimistically, Hermione equaled the closing of the door to the closing of her future will and freedom. She didn't know how right she was.
Grinning just as widely as Umbridge (and giving her the same sick feeling the former professor had), Ginny led her over to a rock by the lake. They sat down on it together, and Hermione tried to think of something—anything!—that would help her out of this situation, but her mind had fled with Draco, and her teeth seemed stuck together with a sticking spell so she couldn't speak.
"Oh, Hermione, my dear, dear Hermione. You do realize how much trouble you'll be in for this…infidelity to Harry and Ron." She nodded dumbly as the redhead went on. "However," Ginny examined her nails, "I could keep quiet about your little…tryst with Malfoy, if…"
In the prolonged silence that followed before Ginny stated her demands, Hermione thought that she would throw up if she had anything in her stomach. This was beginning to be a nightmare, and the worst part was that she was still awake!
"Well, see, I happen to know someone who would be very happy if you returned their fancy for you," Ginny said after Hermione broke and squirmed with impatience. The brunette's drooping head snapped up and she stared at the younger girl.
"Oh, yes, Hermione. I am asking you to tell my brother you fancy him. And you are going to act like you do, or I am going to tell both of them all about your little nighttime meetings with Malfoy. In fact, I believe you were just telling me this morning about how you were going to ask my brother to go out with you during lunch today?" she phrased it as a question, but they both knew it was a demand.
Hermione's dumb stare turned into a glare. "You are an evil malevolent bitch, and this is blackmail, and you know it. I will do as you wish, Master." Without even a warning as to what she was planning on doing to Ginny, she strode off to the castle. She didn't look back, because she didn't want to see the smug look she knew Ginny wore.
The rest of the day was a living hell. Hermione sat through Ron's and Harry's rant and found herself nearly falling asleep. She went through her classes without her usual luster, and she wasn't the first to get the spells correct or to raise her hand. She was absolutely exhausted.
And finally lunch came. Hermione felt sick and did not eat. Halfway through the meal, she pushed her clean plate away and looked at Ron until he looked back up at her. "Ron, can I talk to you?" she said, the words feeling unclean and hard in her mouth. He looked at Harry for approval, and he reluctantly nodded. Ron and Hermione walked out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall, where she stood nervously near the far wall.
Ron looked ready to pace, but instead turned to her with a blistering gaze. She didn't even have the energy to wilt under it. "Ron…I…" she couldn't meet his eyes and looked away. "Ron, there's something I need to tell you…I—I fancy you. And…I was just wondering if you would…if you would be my boyfriend?" He had stiffened, but at her last words, he came up to stand in front of her (he really was far too close) and looking her one last time in the eyes, kissed her hard.
It was over rather quickly, and Hermione hid the disgusted look on her face before he could see it. He looked her in the eyes, and a slow, tender smile filled his face, echoed in his eyes. "I'd love to," he said softly.
Draco felt sick. He'd fallen asleep in Charms class and was coming to lunch late, and of all the things he had to see, he had to witness Hermione asking another guy out, and then Weasley kissing Hermione. No, she wasn't Hermione. She was Granger, always. A mixture of dismay, anger, and…jealously (a new sensation for him) welled up in him and he turned away, deciding that he'd rather eat in the kitchen.
And though he tried, he could not ignore the tears in his eyes, nor the startling and dismaying fact that he was actually jealous of Weasley over something he hadn't quite realized he'd wanted. And a small thought in the back of his head whispered the truth he'd rather not hear: he'd give anything to be in Weasley's shoes at that moment.
Oh don't mind me I'm watching you two from the closet
Wishing to be the friction in your jeans
Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be him
—Fall Out Boy "Sugar, We're Goin' Down"
