Chapter Ten: Which Way He'd Blow

A/N: I don't own Harry Potter.

"Oi ginger, get back in the biscuit tin" Draco grunted pointing angrily at Weasley.

"I'd shove my foot up your arse for that, but I'm afraid you'd enjoy it!" Weasley retorted leaning across the table, as menacingly as he could with his ape face.

"Oh come on, I could never take your virginity like that. We haven't even snogged"

Weasley's face had turned the same colour as his hair, and he was now babbling, unable to retort properly in all his anger.

"Okay, I get the point" Potter sighed scratching his head and removing his glasses, "Can we lay off the quips just for the next little while. I have a thirty-inch paper due tomorrow, and I'd like to finish this discussion quickly. Preferably before Hermione goes to bed, because I desperately need help"

Draco and Weasley both leaned back, arms crossed. Draco was not pleased, he was so far beyond not pleased that he was tempted to reach into his bag and grab his wand. He had civilly asked Potter to show up, not Weasley. But the weasel just couldn't let Potter go off on his own without tailing him like some pathetic groupie. "Why did you bring him Potter?" Draco hissed.

"I didn't bring him, he came" Potter replied resignedly, "he thought he'd be useful"

"I am useful" Weasley said with a smug grin.

"Oh yes? Well then, shock me and say something intelligent"

"I've peeved Hermione enough times that I have the act of groveling perfected"

"Weasley, don't brag about that. Even Eloise won't sleep with you if you say things like that" Draco smirked.

"Besides the point Ron, I don't think the groveling helped you. I think Hermione forgave you out of the altruistic goodness in her heart" Potter amended, "She finds it too tiresome to be angry at you, since you don't seem to understand the point she's making anyway"

"Well, what do you think then Potter?"

"I think a present might be the right way to start and at least soften the blow…then a personal apology…if she lets you get that far…you can then kiss the ground she's walking on"

"Are you joking?"

"No, dead serious" Potter frowned, "It won't be easy. It's Hermione; you can't just buy her a diamond bracelet and call it off. You need to make a total fool of yourself to appease her"

"And you're not just saying this to see me make a total fool of myself?"

"Yes" Weasley grinned.

"No" Potter retorted, "Besides, I've seen enough of that to last me a lifetime. And it's your predicament. I can tell you what to do, but if you don't try, you'll never crawl out of this grave. Hermione will bury you long before that"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that she's upset. But Hermione isn't done. It's not over"

"Oh Malfoy! You are in for it" Weasley chuckled, looking perfectly content.

"You mean, she'll try and get me back?"

"She needn't try" Potter grinned, despite himself, "She can make you suffer without even lifting a finger. Hermione despite her pretense is still a girl; therefore she's born with an operations manual for the suffering of all men engrained in her. It's amazing what they can make you feel with nothing but a few words. She'll go out of her way to crush you. You need to get her forgiveness before it escalates"

"You mean, before she acquires a taste for it?" Draco asked worriedly.

"Brilliant!" Weasley sighed contently.

"Oh shut it!" Draco snarled.

"What a quandary you seem to be embroiled in"

"This is nothing compared to your concerns. I may not be completely arse over kettle about Granger, but she's better than your old maid. You are just infuriatingly gormless" he retorted. Draco could feel himself grow warm with agitation. If Weasley uttered another word, he would be lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood by the time Draco left the room.

"Can't you two just…stop?" Potter groaned.

"Sure. I'm sure it'll quiet down once Weasley's no longer breathing"

Across the table, Weasley no longer looked smug.

"I can't do this!"

"Oh come off it!" Ginny scowled; throwing herself down on the bed. She picked up the latest edition of the Tattler, and began reading it back to front.

"Ginny, he humiliated me, in public…I look like an idiot now! I swear my finger and toes curled yesterday. I thought I would die of shame," Hermione wailed snapping the quill in her hand and spraying ink all over the table. She threw it away angrily and picked up a new one, dipping it in ink.

"Well, you have two options here. Either you ignore it, or you get him back, rightly. But I don't think either will make you exceptionally happy. You just need time to get over this whole thing. It's not worth going mental over. Harry does things like that to me all of the time, he's just another unaware berk like Malfoy. You are giving your fiancé too much credit. He's not vindictive, he never has been. Women often mistake men's stupidity with cruelty"

"So you think I should just forgive him for this?" Hermione asked incredulously, splatting ink on her paper.

"Yes" Ginny smiled, "But you needn't let him know he's forgiven, not right away in any case"

Draco stood on the stairs leading towards the Gryffindor common room holding the wrapped book in his hands. He couldn't do it. What if it didn't work? What if she humiliated him in front of everyone? What if the gift wasn't good enough? He moved to take another step, but didn't manage it. Looking behind him he wondered if he should just wait a little longer, give Granger a bit more time to cool down. Perhaps he was running into a fire that would consume him alive. Could she do that? Would she? Maybe he'd receive more than a verbal scolding.

A couple of first years walked past him on the stairs, staring wide eyed at his unnatural stance on the step. "What?" he hissed at them. They quickly ran away up the stairs and around the corner, whispering nastily.

Draco ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. This was just another thing he'd have to do from now on. He was well aware of the groveling his father often did under his mother's glower. A strong and feared man by all others, reduced to a pathetic beggar by his wife. He saw much of his mother in Granger; proud and fearless and set in her ways. It wasn't going to be an easy life. But it had worked for someone else. All these years, his parent's relationship functioned in this peculiar conduct. His father putting on a show, while his mother pulling the reigns. And to Draco, it never seemed that his father regretted or detested it, just accepted it. He wasn't sure he wanted the same for himself, but was it his choice? The more he looked around, the more it seemed this way. Potter was under Ginerva's thumb, and he didn't seem to notice either way. Blaise was finding himself coming to terms with his own situation. Perhaps this was give in, or get gone.

He continued up the stairs.

Ginerva's face appeared as the portrait swung away to reveal the hole that led to their common room. "Oh, hello you" she smiled tightly, trying to not grin. She was enjoying this scenario, which meant Granger had told people.

"Hello. Is…Hermione there?" he said clearing his throat; her smile made him nervous.

"Of course she is. Is that the answer you want? If you'd rather, I can say no, and you can walk away thinking you tried and get a bit more time to collect yourself" she suggested sweetly.

"That's fine, but I think I'd rather get this over with. Instantaneously" he grinned sheepishly.

"Is that a gift? You'd better hope she hasn't read that one" Ginerva said curiously, looking at the wrapped parcel in his hands.

"She wouldn't have" he replied awkwardly, "It hasn't been released yet. It's a draft…"

"Pulled some strings eh? You prat"

Draco looked past her into the common room, it was empty but for a student he didn't recognize in a corner reading. "Can I come in…or can you convince her to come down?"

"I'd rather not be witness to the scene. I'll have her out in a moment" Ginerva promised, and the picture swung back shut. The fat lady stared at him curiously, he backed away shamefacedly.

His palms were wet, and he could feel the sweat run from the back of his neck downward as a draft blew. It was extraordinary to be bothered by what was going to occur. But here he was, in a state of panic over Granger's immanent arrival. He didn't want her to hate him.

And there it was.

He did not want Granger to hate him.

For more than practical reasons, but for emotional, personal, extraordinarily alarming reasons, he wanted her to like him.

The portrait swung back open, and she crawled out of the hole.

His tongue swelled inside of his mouth. She was still in her robes, her hair pulled back into a bun, and she looked cross. Granger had her arms folded across her chest and her right eyebrow was dangerously close to her hairline. Like a ticking time bomb.

It was all becoming sixes and sevens at a distressing speed. The universe was about to implode and all he had to do was just say something, anything. Well then?

"Here!" he said thrusting the book towards her.

She glanced at it inquisitively, but made no move to reach for it. "What is it? Your homework? There are simpler ways to request death you know. I can't believe you have the gall to show your face to me right now"

"A gift. It's a gift" he muttered, extending the book towards her again.

Her lips pursed in annoyance. One hip swung to the side, and she began to tap her foot. "Are you being shirty with me? Did you not hear me?"

"Will you just take it!" he exclaimed anxiously.

"Why should I? If I accept your gift, you think that means you've been forgiven for your idiocy? You must be mental. I'm not going to let you off so easily"

"Mental isn't all that shocking seeing as you're my bride-to-be" he muttered testily.

Granger's eyes widened angrily.

"I'm just having a lark. Ha ha. Now take the gift please! I'm going to have a nervous attack because of you"

She snatched the book out of his hands and advanced on him. Draco tried to remain where he was and not cower away like his instincts screamed. Granger leaned towards him, she was so close he could see her freckles; he could count the pores on her nose, too close for comfort. Was she was going to attack him, maybe bite him? Not the face!

"Thanks" she said coolly, and then turned away. Without another word Granger sauntered back into the common room, the wrapped parcel under her arm. Draco exhaled as the portrait entrance closed completely, and the Fat Lady smiled. Well, he'd survived. And that was a success of sorts.

"Blimey" Ginny whispered turning the manuscript over in her hands. "This is the new Olga Raffinstied novel, Haggis, Hags, and the Horror. How did he get his hands on this?"

"Who cares?"

"Are you going to read it?"

Hermione glared at her friend "No"

"I thought you liked this series?" Ginny asked inquiringly.

"I do, it's a matter of principle though"

"Are you sure? You seem to be doing a lot on principle. Not saying much, but perhaps your principles aren't straight"

Hermione made no reply. Ginny continued on, unperturbed.

"You aren't even a little curious about the book? I mean, a gift is a gift, it doesn't imply you have to give anything in return. And it's not like he'll know you read it" she coerced.

"Yes, but I'll know" Hermione insisted gritting her teeth. Ginny was goading her, and she well knew it.

"Can I have it then?"

"Fine"

Ginny slid off the bed holding to the book tightly, "I'm going downstairs to get on this. Good luck with your paper"

The paper was done, long ago. Hermione had simply been staring at it for the last hour, scratching out spelling mistakes she'd made, since she had no plan to rewrite this tonight. She was unable to wrap her head around the issue confronting her; she was beginning to lose her wits. Basically, Hermione was damned. There was no way she'd be able to complete her part of the mission. Much less be convincing about it.

Her true anxiety came from the owl, which had arrived this morning, carrying the specifics from Mrs. McKinnon about her task. Had she known yesterday, the whole ordeal with Malfoy wouldn't have been a problem.

Dear Miss Granger,

Thank you for your concerned letter to our Ministry Services. We are always here to provide information and support to our clients. I apologize for not realizing that we at the office forgot to include the details of your task within our last owl.

Toss-pot. Of course you realized.

Your task is solely to have Mr. Malfoy initiate a display of affection towards you. Of course, you may not use any magical means to convince him, or force him to do so. For this task you have until midnight tonight of May the 13th. Once midnight passes and it is the 14th of the month, the task is over, and failure of success will be assessed. Again, if you have any concerns or questions, I am always to be of service.

Nancy McKinnon (Of the Marriage Law and Contract Law Department in the Ministry of Magic)

P.S. Please note that Mr. Malfoy is not to be aware of your personal task. If you should tell him of the contents, you forfeit and automatically fail.

At my service; four days after the fact. Hermione was at a loss. She had just less than six hours to complete this task, and not a clue how to go about it. The vindictive angry part of her didn't even want to bother. She was still upset with Malfoy, and she didn't exactly want to be in his company, nor he in hers likely. So how was she supposed to make him show affection towards her? Especially after the show earlier. Bollocked.

"Mione? Are you listening? I asked if the ferret gave you a gift."

"Yes" Hermione whispered to her soup. It rippled in her bowl, and continued to steam.

"Are you unhappy?" Ron pestered, sounding too cheerful for Hermione's ears.

"Yes, I'm unhappy…" she admitted noticing a large chunk of squash under the still surface.

"About what?"

"About you"

"Me?"

"Yes, imperceptive people make me miserable" Hermione snapped, throwing her spoon across the table. "Stop asking questions!"

"Blimey, can't get a word out around you. You're absolutely mental!" he retorted indignantly, growing red in the face.

"I don't know why you care? What does this have to do with you? I'm sure your relationship is gold compared to mine, but do you have to make the fact known consistently? Can't you just piss off?" she cried furiously.

"Mate, just drop it" Harry insisted, glaring at Ron.

"You have it well bad Mione" Ron concluded slyly.

"Turd" Hermione muttered under her breath.

She wanted to cry into her soup. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn't even tell Malfoy. And after the fuss she'd made before about how he'd lied to her…now she had to lie to him. The task was explicit; he wasn't to know about her intentions. She really did have it well bad. Worse than anybody knew, and she couldn't tell anyone.

Worse still, she didn't have a single intelligent thought on how to convince Malfoy to show some affection towards her without actually having to convince him. And 'affection' was so vague. How affectionate? A hug, holding hands, a kiss…a sonnet? Hermione was seconds away from tearing her hair out. And not only did she have this ridiculous mission to complete. But it also had to be done in the next…five hours.

If she were anyone else, she may have been able to make a move on him, hoping he'd return the act. But she was Hermione Granger. And he was likely to think she was an imposter before he'd imagine her doing it purposely. So what, what to do?

"There goes the kettle to your pot" Ginny nudged, breaking Hermione's thoughts. Malfoy had walked into the great hall, followed by Zabini. He glanced at her nervously, but quickly looked away. Marvelous. "Maybe you should just cut him a break, he looks really upset" Ginny suggested.

Perhaps. Perhaps if she made like she was going to forgive him. Perhaps talked to him somewhere privately…he might be moved by relief to…not likely. Hermione sighed loudly causing the four friends around her to stare curiously in her direction. Doomed.