Chapter Nine
"You did what?!" Ginny screeched.
"Shhh!" Hermione waved a hand at her friend to shut her up. They were in the Gryffindor common room, after all, easily overheard by anyone who cared to listen. "Please."
"Okay, so let me get this straight," Ginny said slowly. "You, Harry, and Ron made some kind of game out of Malfoy wanting to date you?"
Hermione nodded, a pained look on her face.
"And then you slept with him?!"
"Ginny!" she hissed.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," her friend said. "But I thought this whole thing was fake. So why did you sleep with him?"
"I—I can't explain it," Hermione bemoaned. "It's like I forgot who I am. I forgot who he is, and I absolutely forgot what I'm supposed to be doing! Ginny, help me!"
Ginny rubbed her forehead. "Okay. So you think Malfoy really does like you?"
"Yes."
"And I think it's clear from your afternoon romp that you've grown rather fond of him yourself."
"Yes," Hermione said again, albeit reluctantly.
"So just tell Harry and Ron that you're not going to go through with it," Ginny suggested.
"I can't do that," Hermione said. "They won't understand. They hate Malfoy. Wait . . . why are you so understanding?" She waved her hands hysterically. How had everything become so complicated?
Ginny smirked. "Because I know you. And you wouldn't have done what you did if he hadn't changed for the better."
"You really think that?"
Ginny nodded. "Yeah, I do."
Hermione frowned. "I still don't think I can tell Harry and Ron, though."
"Well, maybe you should just wait out the next few days and see how things go before making a decision?"
"Yeah. I think I'll do that."
Draco spent the rest of Sunday evening in a bit of a stupor. He definitely hadn't planned on sleeping with Hermione after tea, especially with his mother in the house!
And yet . . . it felt right. Like fate had somehow decided long before he was born that he would end up with Hermione. He had taken her on that walk intending to tell her the truth and beg for her forgiveness, and they had ended up making love. Not at all what he was expecting.
He wanted to do it again.
And, Merlin, he was pretty sure he was in love with her.
So he anxiously waited in the Heads' common room for her to return from Gryffindor tower. He needed to know where they stood. He knew he needed to tell her the truth, too, but it felt more impossible now than ever. Was there even a good way to tell the girl you'd just had sex with that you'd made a bet with your friends that you could do so?
Hell no.
That wasn't how he wanted things to go.
Hermione didn't return from visiting her friends until seconds before curfew. She blew in through the portrait hole with a huff, her curly hair a frizzy halo about her head. She was clutching a stitch in her side and panting as though she'd just run a marathon.
Draco lurched to his feet. "Er—hi," he said lamely.
Hermione brushed her hair out of her face impatiently. "Hi."
"I—I think we should talk," he admitted reluctantly.
She nodded. "Yeah, we should."
He swallowed roughly and sat back down on the sofa. He waited expectantly as Hermione walked over and sat beside him, then cleared his throat nervously. "So, about what happened this afternoon . . ."
Hermione's face fell. "Do you regret it?" she asked sadly.
"No!" He shook his head fiercely. "Merlin, no. It was—you are—more than I deserve."
She gave him a small, sad smile. "But?"
"But I guess I'm not sure why it happened. Just a few days ago you were claiming to hate me, and now . . . it just seems a bit sudden."
"Yeah, I get what you mean," Hermione murmured. "Honestly, I agree with you completely. And I'm sorry that I ever said I hated you; I don't think it was true, not even when we first met."
Well, that was surprising. "Really?"
She nodded. "I'm sure I believed I hated you, but I don't think I ever really did. It's kind of hard to explain."
"So what do we do now?" Draco asked softly. "I don't regret what happened today, but if you do, I understand." He was surprised to realize that he actually meant it. If she needed to, he would end things and take the loss with as much dignity as he could muster.
"No, of course I don't regret it," Hermione insisted. "I'm the one that instigated it, after all. But I also don't know if we should go that far again. At least, not for a while."
He nodded. "Okay. I can work with that."
She smiled widely at him. "So we can go back to normal now?"
He raised an eyebrow. "What does normal even mean?" he joked.
"Fair enough. I'll clarify for you. Are we going to go back to simply dating and getting to know each other better?" She smirked at him.
"Yes. I can do that." He took her hand in his. "But first—"
With little warning, he yanked Hermione to him until she was straddling his lap, then proceeded to kiss her passionately. She sighed in surrender and a little bit of something that tasted like relief, and Draco deepened the kiss. Hermione was absolutely glorious. His chest burned with need to keep her close to him at all times. So he slowed the kiss down before it could go too far, then pulled away completely.
Resting his forehead against hers, he murmured, "What have you done to me?"
She chuckled and placed another chaste kiss on his lips before extricating herself from his hold. "I rather think the question is what have you done to me," she stated.
Draco smirked at her. "I'm a big softie now, you know. I haven't felt like myself in days."
Hermione tilted her head. "Would you like to argue for a bit?"
"I'll let you know," he laughed.
The next several days went by much the same way the first five had gone. Draco acted completely out of character, but as time went on, he found he minded less and less. For the first time in his life, he felt truly cared for. Hermione had no ulterior motives. She was open and free with him in a way nobody else ever had been; he couldn't recall having ever seen her be that way with anyone else either. Somehow that thought made his odd behavior worth it.
Slowly but surely, the date of the Easter Ball approached. Draco was excited to go with Hermione, but at the same time, his excitement was tamped down by the knowledge that he'd walked into this relationship on a bet. But after what had happened between them on Sunday, he knew there was no way he could tell her and keep her. If she found out, that would be the end of pretty much the only happiness he'd ever known. He couldn't bear even the thought of that.
So he kept his mouth shut, even though the guilt was creeping up on him.
On the eve of the Easter Ball, he carefully dressed in his freshly-pressed dress robes and spelled his hair into compliance. He stared at himself in the mirror. He looked devastatingly handsome, he thought. At exactly six o'clock, he knocked on Hermione's bedroom door.
If he had thought she looked stunning on Sunday afternoon, then he thought she was an angel in that moment. She was dressed in dark blue gown trimmed in silver thread. When she moved, it looked like the dress was made of starlight. Her hair was carefully styled in a manner befitting a bride on her wedding day. To top off the theme of the night sky, she wore diamond earrings and a necklace cut in the shape of a nine-point star.
"Wow," Draco breathed. "You look . . . like magic personified."
Hermione blushed prettily. "Thank you. You look rather dashing yourself."
He smirked. "You sure you want to go to the ball?" he asked with a suggestive wink. "I can think of a few things I'd rather do with you in that dress."
Her face went from slightly pink to bright red. "Draco!" she exclaimed. "Be good!"
"Maybe later, then," he chuckled.
He offered his arm and she took it, and they set off for the Great Hall. When they arrived, Hermione excused herself to go greet her friends. Draco leaned against the wall and admired her from afar. He was interrupted in his musings when Blaise sauntered up to him with Pansy in tow.
"So, does she love you?" Blaise asked haughtily. "I certainly hope not."
Draco sneered at his best friend. "You would. And I don't know. I haven't asked."
"Only time will tell," Blaise replied.
"I'm going to go find out," Pansy announced before stalking away.
"No, Pans, wait!" Draco called out after her, but she was already halfway to Hermione. He gulped nervously and turned to Blaise.
"What's the matter?" Blaise asked. "Afraid you'll lose?"
"Something like that," Draco murmured.
The two remained silent after that, waiting for Pansy to return with the verdict. Draco knew he'd never been so nervous for anything in his life, but it had absolutely nothing to do with the drunken bet he'd made with Blaise.
Hermione started when Pansy Parkinson tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to Draco's ex warily. "Yes?"
Pansy lifted her nose into the air. "It's not worth it, you know."
"What's not?" Hermione asked in confusion.
"Being in love with Draco," Pansy explained. "He'll just break your heart in the end."
"Oh, I'm not—" Hermione started. "I don't . . . love him. We've only been dating for ten days. You can't fall in love that fast."
Pansy raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Oh please. It's all over your face. You've fallen for him. Hard."
Hermione shook her head. "No. You're mistaken."
"Hmm." With that, Pansy spun on her heel and marched away.
Hermione watched her go apprehensively. Had she fallen in love with him when she was supposed to be making him fall for her? She flashed back to her conversation with Ginny on Sunday evening. She had to acknowledge that she felt something for Draco; she'd slept with him for Godric's sake! Her mind raced as she replayed the memory.
After they'd fallen into the bathtub together, Draco had paid her careful attention and looked at her with something akin to adoration in his eyes. He had kissed her passionately, ardently. They had gone slowly, carefully. She rubbed her arms as a wave of chills overcame her at the recollection.
Her eyes popped open wide as the realization hit her. It hadn't just been sex, had it?
They had made love.
She loved him.
Hermione allowed herself a moment of shock before she made up her mind. She would summon her courage—she was a Gryffindor, after all—and she'd tell him. She took the first few steps in Draco's direction when Blaise Zabini intercepted her. He pulled her by the wrist into an alcove, glaring at her the whole time.
"Zabini, what the hell?" Hermione snapped at him.
He leaned in close, sneering at her. "How did you know about the bet?" he demanded. "Did Pansy tell you? I should have known Pansy was lying to me about wanting to humiliate Draco."
Hermione's heart stopped. Bet? What bet? Even though she could feel her heart breaking, she schooled her features into a mask of indifference. "I don't know what you're on about Zabini. There's no bet."
Blaise scoffed. "You really love the bastard, don't you?"
She gulped and nodded. It was true, after all, even though it appeared that Draco had simply fooled her into it. "I do love him."
Blaise scowled at her, then stalked away with a disgusted snort.
Hermione allowed herself sixty seconds to cry over her situation. She had never dreamed she'd fall in love with Draco Malfoy. Even so, she should have known better. He had used her for a stupid bet with his Slytherin cronies. He'd been faking the entire time. Her heart shattered, as she'd known it would from the beginning. When her minute of tears was over, she cast a spell to fix her makeup and marched from the nook where she was hidden. She was definitely going to go through with humiliating Draco now.
Draco watched with his heart in his throat as Pansy returned. Did Hermione love him? Merlin, he hoped so. He'd certainly fallen hard for her. His ex-girlfriend took an obnoxiously long time to reach him where he waited with Blaise. Then she stood there smirking at him for several long moments.
"Pansy!" he finally exploded. "Just tell us!"
She smiled evilly, then said, "Yes, she loves you. Congratulations, Draco." Pansy turned her evil glare on Blaise. "Have fun sleeping outside until June."
Blaise scoffed loudly and stomped away. Draco couldn't have cared less. He grinned triumphantly.
Hermione loved him.
He'd never heard such good news in his life. With a determined swagger, he began walking toward where he'd last seen Hermione. He was going to snog her thoroughly then take her into the Great Hall for a spectacular night of dancing. If he was lucky, when they got back to the Heads' dorms, he'd get, well, lucky.
He was passing Potty and Weasel on his way over when he happened to overhear what they were saying.
". . . can't wait to see the ferret's face when she does it," whispered Weasley.
"Me too," Potter said.
Draco stopped dead in his tracks. When who did what?
"This is the best idea we've ever had," Weasley continued. "I'm glad Hermione agreed to do it. Malfoy's needed to be taken down a notch for ages."
"I have to admit, I was worried Hermione would lose her nerve before she could dump Malfoy on his sorry arse in front of everyone," Potter agreed. "He bloody deserves it."
"I wish someone could write an article or something. How to Lose a Malfoy in Ten Days," Weasley joked.
Potter chuckled at the lame-ass joke.
Anger flared in Draco's chest. Hermione had been faking?! It seemed she was planning on humiliating him, that she'd been involved in a bet of her own. He scowled fiercely. So much for his plans. Well, Blaise didn't need to know that Hermione had been faking. Technically, Draco had won the bet. And now that it was over, he was going to rip Hermione a new one for using him. That bitch.
He spotted her near the middle of the entrance hall, an angry sneer on her own face. He stomped over to her.
"How could you?" he demanded.
Hermione's eyes popped wide. "How could I? How could you?" she screeched. "You used me, you arrogant prat!"
People were beginning to stare at them, but Draco no longer cared. "You drove me insane just to entertain your friends!" he accused.
"Yeah? Well you told your friends you could make any girl fall in love with you, and I was exhibit A," Hermione snapped. A lone tear slid down her cheek.
"Then what does that make me?" Draco demanded. "Your guinea pig?"
"Yeah, and I was just a girl your friends picked out in the Great Hall."
Draco scoffed at her. "Whatever. At least you did your fucking job, Granger. Go run and tell your stupid friends. I'm sure they'll be delighted."
"Maybe we should bet on it," Hermione growled.
"Well, you did want to get rid of me in ten days. Congratulations, Granger. You just lost me." Draco spun on his heel to storm off, but Hermione's next words stopped him in his tracks.
"No I didn't, Malfoy. Because you can't lose something you never had."
He felt her brush past him and run in the direction of the Heads' dorms. People all around were staring at him, and he felt his hackles rise.
"What?" he snapped at them all. "Did you all enjoy the show?"
He sneered disgustedly and stormed out of the castle. Great. This was just great.
Draco hated his life.