Chapter Fourteen

Hermione stormed into Gryffindor Tower half furious and half ready to cry. What was wrong with her that made Draco not want to sleep with her? She stomped up the stairs into the common room and was relieved to find it was nearly empty.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, getting up from his chair by the fire. "Hermione, what's the matter?"

"Oh, God," she sighed. "It's a long story," she said. Ron crossed to where she was standing and just as he got there, she burst into tears.

"Come here," he said, taking her into his arms. "You can talk to me, Hermione, I'm one of your best friends," he reminded her.

"I know," she took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. She wiped the tears out of her eyes and looked up at Ron.

"Let's sit down," he suggested, leading her over to the fireplace. Hermione followed and took a seat in the overstuffed armchair. "Alright, so spill already," he prompted.

"I'm not sure where to start," Hermione sighed, hearing her voice waver slightly. "This is kind of embarrassing," she realized aloud. "You see, Draco and I were, uh, fooling around," she began, ignoring the red tinge that was beginning to spread across Ron's freckled cheeks. "Basically, he told me he doesn't want to have sex with me," she finished quickly. "And I don't know why, I don't know what's wrong with me that he wouldn't want to sleep with me, I mean, we've been dating for a while now and I just, I thought by now," she took another deep breath when she realized she was rambling. "I just don't really understand," she finished.

Ron took a deep breath, and thought for a moment. This was not what he had expected to come pouring out of Hermione's mouth. Maybe she was stressed about schoolwork, that he could handle. He would be shocked, but capable if she had been pregnant, but Draco Malfoy turning down sex? And from a girl he was so obviously in love with?

"See, it just doesn't make any sense does it?" Hermione demanded, getting to her feet. She began to pace back and forth in front of the fire. "I really just don't get it. I mean, what's wrong with me? Am I completely unattractive or freakish?"

"Uh, no?" Ron wasn't sure what to say. "No, you're definitely not freakish," he recovered. "Hermione, sit down," he insisted, patting the chair she had been sitting in before. "You are a very attractive girl," he said, gazing at her watery eyes. "But why are you in such a hurry to sleep with Malfoy?" he asked. "I know you're in love and all, but you haven't really been dating that long. It's not that I expect him to break your heart, but it might be a mistake to rush into things so soon."

"But what if it's not?" Hermione asked. "What if he cheats on me because we're not having sex?"

"He won't," Ron sighed. "I know that a lot of people think that us boys are incapable of being faithful when there's no sex involved but really, we can handle it. As much as I hate to admit this, Malfoy loves you. It's ridiculously obvious to everyone and makes me a little sick to be honest. But I'm happy for you and I know that he's going to treat you like you deserve to be treated."

Hermione thought about what Ron was telling her. It made sense, but she was still unsure. And what about Draco telling her that he was going to spend the rest of his life with her? They really hadn't been dating all that long, but Draco seemed so certain of it.

"Thanks, Ron," she said, hoping his concerned look would vanish. She hated having to talk to him about this. "You're not going to tell anyone about this, are you?" she asked. He shook his head.

"Absolutely not," he promised. "Besides, who would believe me that Hermione Granger was a sex-crazed harlot?"

"Shut up!" Hermione laughed, wishing she had something to throw at him. "Thank you again, Ron," she said, getting to her feet. "I guess we should head to dinner," she suggested, looking at the clock. Ron agreed and accompanied her to the Great Hall.

Try as he might, Ron couldn't keep himself from looking over at the Slytherin table as he walked past. He made eye contact with Draco, who gave him a sheepish half-smile. It must have been obvious that Hermione had confided in him. Despite the longstanding enmity between the two boys, Ron shrugged his shoulders and gave Draco a genuine smile. They would never be good friends, but at least he knew Hermione would be in good hands.

"Settle down," Professor Snape intoned, stalking to the front of the classroom. "I know you all are going to be as horribly disappointed as I was that there will be no potion making today."

Hermione looked up from the parchment she was already furiously scribbling on. The class was scheduled to start a unit on sleeping potions that day and she was fully prepared to do that. She realized for the first time that Professor Flitwick was making his way to the front of the room to join Snape. Confused, she made eye contact with Harry and Ron who looked as lost as she did.

"Professor Flitwick has agreed to join me for today's rather uncomfortable lecture," Professor Snape continued. "I'm sure that you all as sixth year students are perfectly capable of being mature about this subject so be aware that anyone who acts up will automatically have 25 points deducted from his or her house," he stared harshly at each student in turn.

"Headmaster Dumbledore requires that this lecture be given each year to the sixth year students," Professor Flitwick began. Hermione looked down at her notes and sighed. She was fairly certain she knew what was coming and it was far too late for most of the students in the class. "He believes it is important that you are aware of the changes that are occurring in your bodies and the consequences of your decision to become or not to become sexually active."

The room was completely silent except for a few students who shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Professor Snape glared at the students who were moving around but didn't open his mouth. Hermione kept her eyes downcast. The timing of this lecture couldn't be worse.

"I would like to remind each and every one of you that there are severe consequences for any students found engaging in sexual activities anywhere on school grounds," Professor Snape put in. Across the room, Draco muttered something under his breath. "Mr. Malfoy, would you care to share with the rest of the class?"

"Please don't," Hermione pleaded silently. Draco sat up straight.

"I said, thank God," he repeated. "I can't stand it that everyone here seems to think it's so important to hook up with someone just because you can. I'm proud of the fact that I don't have to give into whatever hormonal urges are running through me at any given moment and I wish more students would choose to wait until marriage."

"Er-Thank you for that, Mr. Malfoy," Snape's eyes darted awkwardly to Hermione and back to Draco. "Abstinence is an admirable choice and the only completely effective method of preventing diseases and pregnancy," he tried to recover the situation but the damage had been done. Excited whispers were now circulating around the room and Hermione was blushing furiously.

The lecture couldn't end fast enough. As soon as it was over, Hermione dashed from the room not stopping until she reached her bedroom. She collapsed on her bed, sobbing. How could Draco have humiliated her like that? It was only natural that everyone would assume they were having sex and Hermione had been fine with that. She was given a new level of respect and though she didn't want anyone to think she was a slut, she also didn't see any reason to put an end to the rumors.

It wasn't that she thought she needed to be having sex to be considered cool, it was just that she knew everyone would assume the reason she and Draco weren't having sex was because of her. Even though his tirade had made his sentiments clear, she was sure she would be blamed for it. Everyone would assume that she was being her usual self and playing it safe. Hermione was tired of being a goody two shoes. Her experience in America had taught her that it was more fun to be on the playful, relaxed side of things. Like so many days since she had gotten back to Hogwarts, Hermione wished wholeheartedly that she could go back to the States.

Draco waited for Hermione outside the Great Hall for lunch but she never showed up. When she didn't come to Transfiguration either, he knew something was wrong.

"Where's Snow White?" Blaise whispered in his ear from the row behind him. He turned around to look at her. "Get it? Snow White?" she rolled her eyes. "That was really sweet, I meant to tell you."

"Shut it," he snapped, suddenly understanding why Hermione was avoiding him. It had never occurred to him that she might be embarrassed by his speech. He had actually thought she might be grateful to him for clearing her reputation. Apparently that wasn't the reputation she was after.

"Let me handle it, okay?" Blaise volunteered. Draco sighed. "Really, I'll fix it for you."

Hermione hid in her bed for the rest of the day. She knew it was stupid, but she was too embarrassed to face anyone. It was dinnertime before anyone returned to the bedroom. The curtain on Hermione's bed was drawn back suddenly to reveal Blaise carrying a tray of food.

"Get up," she commanded. Hermione sat up but didn't get out of bed. Blaise rolled her eyes and handed Hermione the tray. "I'm sure you're starving since you've now skipped two meals," she explained her generosity. "Seriously, Hermione, you can't do that anymore."

"I know, we don't skip classes," Hermione said, eagerly taking a bite of chicken.

"It's not just that," Blaise said, taking a seat on the bed. She helped herself to Hermione's roll. "You can't let anyone see that you're affected by anything anyone says about you. It's a sign of weakness."

"Or humanity," Hermione protested. Blaise shook her head.

"Emotions are messy," she said. "It's better to avoid them at all costs. Mostly it's not possible, but you can teach yourself to just get mad instead. If you can get mad, you can do anything."

"That seems so harsh," Hermione observed. "Besides, I can't walk around being mad at the entire potions class because Draco embarrassed me."

"Why not?" Blaise asked. "Hermione, you shouldn't be embarrassed by what Draco said. He didn't mean to upset you, he was just saying what was on his mind. It's one of your duties to stand behind everything he says."

"That's absurd," Hermione sighed. Blaise shrugged.

"Get used to it. You're his girlfriend and maybe someday you'll be his wife. You're supposed to support him in everything he does and says. It's one of the most important parts of being a Death Eater," she explained.

"Why do I get the distinct feeling that it doesn't work the other way around?" Hermione asked. Blaise rolled her eyes again.

"Draco's pretty forward-thinking, I'm sure he'll be supportive of you too," she sighed. "Really, Hermione, you should just get over all the feminist stuff because the Dark Lord is just not going to change his way of thinking." Hermione sighed and finished her dinner.

"I guess I have to forgive Draco," she said. Blaise nodded. "Thank you for the food," Hermione said.

"No problem. No more sulking, okay?" she said, taking the tray from Hermione. "If there's one thing Death Eaters never do its feel sorry for themselves."

"I'm beginning to think there are not many things Death Eaters actually are allowed to do," Hermione said. Blaise laughed.

"You'll get used to it," she said reassuringly. "Now get your ass out of bed and find your man. He's pretty worried."

Hermione got to her feet and tried to tidy her appearance. She followed Blaise down the stairs in the fireplace and into Draco's bedroom. The room was empty – presumably because Draco was at dinner. Hermione sat on the edge of his bed and waited for him to get back.

She hadn't been waiting long when the door opened and Draco came in. He looked surprised to see her there. She stood up and walked over to give him a hug.

"I'm sorry," she said before he could say anything. She let go of him and stepped so back to look him in the eyes. "I overreacted," she apologized. He shook his head.

"Hermione, I had no right to share our personal business with the entire class," he said. "I'm sorry that I embarrassed you."

"I'm alright now," Hermione said. Draco took her hand and led her over to his bed. They sat on the edge. Draco put an arm around Hermione and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I meant what I said about spending the rest of my life with you, Hermione," Draco said. "I know we're young but I'm serious about this." Hermione didn't know what to say. She loved Draco and she loved the idea of being his wife but she wasn't sure she could handle it. they had only really been dating for about a month. Everything in Hermione's life seemed to be set on warp speed. She sighed. Draco looked down at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I wish we could go back," Hermione said, meaning the States. Draco nodded.

"Me too," he agreed. "What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked, changing the subject. The next day was Saturday.

"I'm not sure," Hermione answered. "I guess going to Hogsmeade."

"Why don't you stay here tonight?" He suggested. Hermione paused. Was that really a good idea? She thought back to the time in America when he had gotten in bed with her and they had fallen asleep together. It had been so nice. She didn't really count the time she had spent the night before since she had been drugged. Maybe there wasn't any harm in it.

"Alright," she agreed. "But play nice," she admonished him. He grinned.

"If you insist," he agreed.

"Hermione?" a voice was calling. Hermione's eyelids fluttered open briefly and closed again. Surely she had plenty more time to sleep. It was a Saturday after all. "Hermione?" the voice repeated. The bedroom door opened. "Hermione!" now the voice was angry. "Hermione what is going on here?"

Hermione sighed and opened her eyes. Her mother was standing over her, her hands on her hips. Next to Hermione, Draco stirred. Hermione sat upright and looked around the room. She was back in her bedroom in America, and her American mother was hovering over her, demanding that she get out of bed immediately.

"Have you forgotten what day it is?" her mother demanded. Hermione was too busy wondering how she got back to the States to think about what her mother was saying. Just the night before she had slept in Draco's bed at Hogwarts. "Hermione, for god's sake get out of bed and get dressed. We'll talk about this later," Mrs. Granger said, gesturing to Draco's still sleeping figure.

Hermione obediently got out of her bed and glanced at the clock. It was only seven and she was exhausted. Fortunately, she found an outfit picked out for her hanging on the closet door. Her mother disappeared from the room with a resounding slam of the door. Taking a deep breath, Hermione dressed quickly and tried to wake Draco.

"Draco, wake up," she insisted, giving him a rough shake. "Please, wake up," she repeated. Finally he opened his eyes and looked just as confused as she felt.

"What happened?" he asked. Hermione shrugged.

"I have no idea, but I have to go do something," she explained. "Try to figure it out while I'm gone," she instructed. Draco yawned.

"Yeah, okay," he agreed, lying back down. Hermione sighed.

"You could at least act like you're going to put some effort into it!" Hermione snapped. Draco waved her off and she rolled her eyes. Hermione put on her shoes and grabbed a purse from the shelf in her closet before heading downstairs to find her mother.

When she walked into the kitchen she was surprised to see not just her mother but also her father waiting impatiently for her. Her mother immediately began fussing with her outfit.

"Come on, Vic, we haven't got all day," Hermione's father said restlessly. Mrs. Granger sighed and gave Hermione a threatening glare before picking up her own purse and following her husband out to the car. Hermione followed obediently, hoping that a stop at Starbucks would be on the day's agenda.

"Were you drinking last night, Hermione?" her mother asked, turning around to look at her daughter in the backseat. Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Of course not," her father defended. "She knows how much trouble it would be for my campaign if she were to get caught drinking, right sweetie?" he looked at her in the rearview mirror. Hermione gave him a tight-lipped smile. Her mother kept looking, however, and Hermione was sure the conversation hadn't been resolved. She tried to remember what she had been doing the night before.

She had been at Pansy's house, in the hot tub for most of the night. Around her, the vast majority of the senior class were helping themselves to a seemingly endless supply of beer and expensive liquor. Pansy had set up a blender within an arm's reach of the hot tub so that she could keep an endless supply of daiquiris flowing for the other members of the cheerleading squad and dance team who were also crammed into the hot tub.

Across the terrace, Hermione could see the football team clustered around a ping-pong table with cups of beer. They were playing a game called "beer pong" that involved trying to throw a ping pong ball into one of your opponent's cups, arranged in a pyramid formation, across the table. From her vantage point, Draco seemed to be winning.

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to remember if she had been drinking or not. She had a few daiquiris, but was she drunk? Maybe. But then who had driven home? Not Draco. She must have been the one driving.

"Herm?" her father interrupted her thought process. "It would probably look better if you didn't refer to Harvard as your backup school." He was looking at her in the mirror again. Hermione nodded. "I know it's not your first choice, but you don't have to say that," he added. "And try not to freeze if they put you on the spot, just smile and be honest."

"Yes, Dad," she sighed as her father turned the car into a Starbucks parking lot.

"Come in with me," he insisted. Hermione grudgingly got out of the car and accompanied her father into the coffee shop. Her mother stayed behind. "I really like your boyfriend, Hermione," he said as they crossed the pavement. The rest of his thought had to be put on hold while they entered the store, however, because Mark Granger insisted on greeting everyone he passed. After they placed their order, he picked up where he had left off.

"Anyway, he's a good guy. Great ball player, absolutely outstanding. Good student too," he thought for a moment and Hermione wondered where he was going with this. "I have to tell you though, I'm not entirely sure it's appropriate for him to be spending the night in your room," her father concluded. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Dad," she said. "Draco and I have been sharing a bed since we were infants," she reminded him.

"I see your point, Hermione, but I would feel a lot better if he would sleep somewhere else when he stays at our house," he decided, coming the closest to a direct order Mark Granger ever got with his daughter. It was the primary opinion of Hermione's parents that children should have limitations but not too many. Fortunately they had been graced with a child who didn't require a lot of discipline.

Hermione collected her coffee from the bar and followed her father back to the car. She stood awkwardly to one side when her father got into a conversation with a random passerby about gun control laws.

"Forgive me," Mark Granger said, "This is my daughter, Hermione," he introduced Hermione to the man he had been talking to. "She's going to study law next year at college."

"Wonderful," the man smiled at her. "What school are you going to? Harvard, no doubt," he laughed.

"We'll see," Hermione forced a smile. "I just put in my applications."

"Oh, you'll get in, don't worry," he winked. "Great talking to you, Mark, I won't keep you," he said, giving Hermione's father a pat on the shoulder.

"Do you know who that was, Hermione?" her father asked, opening the door to car. Hermione got into the backseat.

"No idea," she rolled her eyes.

"That, Hermione, was the Director of Harvard's Law School," Her father sounded frustrated. "He essentially just promised you admission," he sighed. "I really don't know what's gotten into you lately," he said. Hermione didn't say anything as he pulled out of the parking lot. They got onto the highway and twenty minutes later were pulling into the parking lot of a news station.

The name of the station jogged Hermione's memory and she remembered that her father was scheduled to appear on "Good Morning Washington," a local news program. He was bringing the family along to make a good impression on the voters, of course. Hermione remembered happily that this was just the beginning of her father's campaign tour and that he was leaving immediately after the broadcast to visit other parts of the state.

Her cell phone chirped and Hermione grabbed it quickly, hoping that it was Draco with some information about how they had ended up there. Instead it was a text message from Violet, wishing her good luck. Hermione smiled and turned the phone on silent. She was having much better luck with her "memory" this time around.

The Granger family was shown into a small waiting room with couches and a plasma television so they could watch the broadcast while they waited to go on. It didn't take long for a makeup artist to appear and slather gobs of makeup all over their faces. Then they were shown to a set of armchairs where they were told to be absolutely silent until the commercial break.

During the break, one of the show's hosts came over and sat down in the last armchair. She briefly outlined the questions she would ask and then the break ended and they were given the signal that the camera was rolling.

"I'm here live with one of Virginia's candidates for U.S. Senate, Mark Granger, and his family," the anchorwoman said. "Mark, do you feel that the recent political climate in Virginia is…" Hermione zoned out. She tried her hardest to focus, but it was almost impossible, mostly because she was still so exhausted. It wasn't until she heard her father saying her name that she snapped back to attention.

"Well, Hermione, as a minor, how do you feel about the recent curfew adjustment? Has it put a damper on your Halloween plans for tonight?" the anchorwoman asked. Hermione took a deep breath. The county had just voted to impose a weekend curfew of 12 p.m. for all children under 18. During the week, the curfew was 10 p.m.

"I really love seeing the little kids in their costumes, so I'll be staying home to pass out candy with my mother," she said. "And with one in every three drivers on the roads between 1 and 4 a.m. being intoxicated, it really only benefits teenagers to be off the roads late at night."

"That's an excellent point," the anchor nodded. "Now, what are your plans for after graduation. Do you know where you'll be going to college yet?"

"I've completed my applications to Wellesley, Sarah Lawrence, William and Mary, Amherst, and Harvard," Hermione said.

"And do you have a first choice?" the woman prompted. Hermione shook her head.

"They're all excellent schools and I think I would do well at any of them," she replied. The anchorwoman shook her head and turned her attention back to Mark Granger. Hermione zoned out again almost immediately.

The interview only lasted a few more minutes and the Granger family was escorted back to their car. Hermione climbed into the backseat, happy to be getting rid of her father again.

"You did beautifully, Hermione," Her father commended happily. Hermione smiled at him briefly before sinking down into the seat.

When Hermione made it back to her bedroom, Draco was still asleep. She smiled happily and locked her bedroom door for the first time in her life. Very quickly, she put her pajamas back on and crawled into bed with him. She was fast asleep within minutes.

"Hermione Granger, if you do not unlock this door right this instant I will call your father and make him come home!" Victoria Granger shouted through Hermione's bedroom door. It was only about an hour after she had gone back to sleep and Hermione was not ready to get up yet. She stumbled to the door and unlocked it before getting back into her bed. Her mother came bursting through the door only seconds later.

"Really, Hermione?" Her mother demanded. "Your father told me you two discussed this," she said angrily.

"Leave the door open if you want, we're just sleeping," Hermione replied angrily. Her mother's jaw dropped.

'Hermione, I don't know what's gotten into you!" she exclaimed. Hermione sighed and sat up.

"Mom, I am exhausted. Please, let me get a few hours of sleep and then we can discuss this calmly," Hermione said. Her mother looked even more upset, but she couldn't argue with Hermione's reasonable request.

"Fine. I'm leaving the door open," she said, walking out of the room. Hermione sighed thankfully and lay back down. So she was acting unusual lately, she mused, wondering what that meant. Drunk driving was one thing, obviously. She could remember on a few occasions ignoring her mother's phone calls. Closing her eyes, Hermione figured her mother was just blowing everything out of proportion.

She woke up a few hours later to Draco nuzzling her neck. Hermione opened her eyes and turned to kiss him. He smiled at her and shifted his weight so that he was lying on top of her. His hand was under her shirt, playing with her nipple, and then it was traveling down her stomach into her pajama pants. Hermione lifted her hips and slid the pants and her underwear off to give Draco easier access. He pulled his own pants off and positioned himself over her, ready to slide right in if she would spread her legs a little bit more. He pushed against her, trying to get her to do that.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, incredibly confused. She had just calmed down from the previous day's humiliation where Draco had told all of Hogwarts that they weren't having sex and now here he was unceremoniously trying to do just that.

"I am trying to give you the best fuck of your life," He informed her, very serious. Hermione stared blankly at him. "Okay, I know the door's open but doesn't that make it hotter?" he whispered. Hermione took a slow deep breath. It did make it hotter, but where was this coming from?

"I thought we were waiting," she reminded him. Draco rolled his eyes.

"You can't be serious," he groaned. "For the past two weeks we've been having a total shagfest and now you want to close up shop on me?" Hermione wanted to laugh at how strange the word "shagfest" sounded in Draco's American accent, but she was way too confused. Her memory flashed on several incidents from the past two weeks that confirmed Draco's statement. Somewhere inside her, she could feel her heart sinking. So she had lost her virginity and she hadn't even experienced it?

"Sorry," she muttered, and closed her eyes. Draco sighed and leaned on his right side.

"So, apparently we're different people here than we are at Hogwarts," he said. Hermione nodded. "Do you remember that night?" he asked, referring to the night he had taken her virginity. "It was really great," he informed her, as though she wasn't remembering as well. "We were celebrating the best football season Kensington has had in years," he recalled. "I took you to dinner in Georgetown, and it was freezing cold but you wore that little dress anyway. We had duck and crème brulee and I gave you this," he said, pulling Hermione's left hand out from under the covers. A tiny white gold ring with a diamond chip in the very center was sitting on her ring finger.

"A promise ring," she said, observing the ring. Draco nodded.

"My parents were out of town and we spent the night at my house," he went on with the memory. Hermione could fill in the rest. "I planned the whole thing, I wanted everything to be perfect."

"It was perfect," she sighed, opening her eyes. "So what do we do?" she asked.

"You mean do we keep having sex or do we start abstaining?" he asked. "I don't know, what do you want to do?" he looked at her. Hermione thought for a moment and then smiled.

"As long as we're here," she said, crawling on top of him to straddle him. "We might as well take advantage of it," she decided. Draco's head fell backwards as Hermione lowered herself over him. Though they had allegedly been doing this for weeks he still hadn't anticipated how good it would feel. "Shh," Hermione reminded him, "The door is open."

Lucius Malfoy sat numbly at the boardroom table, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. He knew when he was defeated. If the Ministry of Magic had seen fit to send the children back to their project countries, then there must be good reason for it. The only fault Lucius had been able to point out was that the students hadn't been given advance warning. His niece had solved that problem by volunteering to go visit each country and explain the change personally. On one hand he was pleased to see her succeeding, but on the other hand he knew that with her success came his failure.