8 Ways to Kiss Mudblood Granger

Kiss Two – Her fairytale?

A week had passed since Malfoy's unexpected apology, and life had continued as normal, though Hermione noticed that he had been bothering the trio less and less. Not that she minded, of course. Any time spent without the presence of the conceited Slytherin prince was golden. Plus, it meant that she could spend more time in the library without being disrupted. Harry and Ron had stopped accompanying her there when they saw how much better she looked after paying a visit to Dumbledore's office. ("I dunno what Dumbledore did to them, but I sure as hell aren't going to complain," Ron had said, earning a swift kick to the shins from Hermione under the table.)

In fact, if she really thought about it, she had only really seen Malfoy at mealtimes and in the classes she shared with him. After all, how could she not notice him in Potions? Snape, being the biased git he was, never missed an opportunity to praise his favourite student and tell Neville how much he could learn from him. It never hurt that potions was Malfoy's best subject either, Hermione thought bitterly. In fact, potions was the only subject she had been really worried about during OWLs last year, knowing full well that Malfoy was a strong rival and it would require a lot of study in order to top his marks. The situation was not aided by how much Snape despised her.

It had all gotten better this year though, ever since Slughorn had stepped in.

So it came as an utter surprise to Hermione when one double potions lesson, Snape appeared and told them that he would relieving for the next month, since Professor Slughorn had some urgent business to attend to. He half-smirked at the class and said flatly, "From now on you will be sitting in arranged places in the classroom, so that you are not tempted," he cast a look in Hermione and Neville's direction, "to help those less… talented in this art." Neville looked downcast, while Hermione was mortified.

"Crabbe, go sit next to Mister Longbottom. I want Weasley and Potter to split up. Weasley can go sit next to Miss Parkinson. Potter, kindly shift your arrogant presence to the empty table next to my desk. Miss Granger, move next to Mister Malfoy. Goyle, move to Miss Patil and Miss Brown's table." Snape was met with the horrified stares of his sixth-year class. Pansy Parkinson looked like she was going to strangle him, contorting her face to an expression that did her personality justice.

"But -- "

"Professor!"

"Are you serious? I can't believe --"

"SILENCE!"

The classroom fell silent.

"Move," Snape hissed evilly, so much so that Harry could not distinguish whether it was an English word or if he had spoken in Parseltongue. Everyone started to pick up their things and grumbling. Ron kicked over a stool in anger.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Pass me the knife, Granger," Malfoy said, not really paying attention to her but instead looking at the blackboard on which Snape had now written all the directions for the potion they were going to make.

"I'm not your bloody slave, Malfoy," Hermione retorted automatically. "Besides, the knife is right there, it's equal distance from both of us. You can get it." Malfoy cast his attention to her direction and raised his eyebrow.

"For Merlin's sake, Granger, no need to get your knickers in a twist," he muttered, taking the knife himself and proceeding to cut up his Burtlap root. Deciding not to pursue the matter further, Hermione merely sighed and tried to concentrate on her own potion.

They carried on in silence like this, completely the opposite of the rest of the class. Ron and Pansy were now in a heated debate about which house's Quidditch team was better. Harry was sulking miserably by himself on the table next to Snape's desk, being given advice every few minutes, like, 'don't put your nose in things don't concern you, Potter,' and 'You're as useless at potions as your father, Potter. It's a shame you didn't inherit your mother's talent.'

Draco's hand brushed past Hermione's as he was reaching for the Dittany, making her freeze -- he didn't seem to notice the contact at all. Noticing that Hermione had frozen up, Malfoy scoffed, "You're stirring your potion too much, Granger." Hermione flushed and looked down at her potion, which was indeed a bit over-stirred.

"Shit," she muttered, getting her wand out to fix her mistake.

"Didn't know you were the type to mutter obscenities," Malfoy smirked.

"Yeah well, you don't know me very well, Malfoy," Granger smiled sweetly at him. Malfoy shrugged and smiled in his teacher's pet way as Snape went past their table, complimenting his potion and proceeding to scowl at Hermione's.

"Please tell me Granger, what it says on step sixteen?"

"To stir the potion ten and a quarter times anticlockwise," She answered, through gritted teeth.

"And how many times have you stirred it, Granger?" Snape drawled.

"Almost twelve times, Professor," she muttered darkly.

"That's right, Granger. And although you have covered the mistake satisfactorily, the potency of the potion will be weaker. So, this potion is useless for the purpose for which we are intending," Snape smirked.

"I won't do it again, Professor," she replied coolly.

"I daresay I hope not," he drawled. Malfoy smirked beside her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"That Snape, I ask you, what the hell is he thinking?" Ron proclaimed loudly over lunch. "Separating everyone? It's going to bring out more suffering for him than good!"

Harry nodded in agreement. "You can practically be deafened by Ron and Parkinson's conversations from the other side of the room," he grinned.

"Isn't it awful of him to make Harry sit beside him on an empty desk? It just screams prejudice!" Hermione said angrily.

"Wow, prejudice, I've always wondered what that felt like in Snape's classes," Harry said sarcastically. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"And poor Neville! Sitting next to that absolute baboon Crabbe! Look what he did to him," Hermione continued ranting. In fact, Neville had come out of potions with Burtlap juice all over his robes, after Crabbe had 'accidentally' spilled his bowl all over his table partner.

"And," Hermione continued, "Snape was so fussy about my potion! I don't think the fact that my potion was a bit weaker is going to make much of a difference in a real situation!" She huffed, neglecting to mention the reason that her potion was weaker was because Malfoy had touched her hand.

"Oh well Hermione, you know Snape, he'll pick up on nitpicky details just so that he can lecture the know-it-all," Ron grinned. Hermione smiled weakly at him, though she was frustrated. At this moment, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown decided to shift over from their part of the table to join the conversation uninvited (but then again, when did they ever wait to be invited?).

"So, Hermione," Lavender smiled so widely that Hermione wondered how it was that her lips didn't split in the middle from stretching so far. Parvati was containing her giggles so much that her cheeks were as red as Ron's ears when he was angry.

"How are you enjoying sitting next to Draco Malfoy?" Lavender finally questioned, winking at her. Parvati burst out giggling, unable to hold it in any longer.

"What do you mean? She hates it, naturally, who the hell do you think you're asking, bloody Parkinson?" Ron replied incredulously. Hermione once again felt her heart flutter.

"Mmm… well the little birdie that told me of Malfoy and Hermione's extra curricular activities, namely on a certain Halloween, would beg to differ…" Lavender said with a huge wink at the chestnut haired girl. Ron's ears went scarlet again. A deep voice coughed seriously behind them.

"If you had eyes, Brown, I doubt you would've needed to listen to that birdie of yours, let alone have believed it," the silver-eyed boy said, annoyed. Lavender Brown gaped at him, turning red at the cheeks with embarrassment.

"What's the matter Brown, birdie got your tongue?" Draco smirked at the group, noticing how weird they looked, three girls and two boys standing in a row looking at him. He felt rather in control, much to his liking. Lavender and her giggling-no-longer companion gave a little 'hmph!' and turned away, sliding back to their part of the table.

Draco turned to Hermione, slid a black notebook towards her and, smirking in his Malfoy-ish way, whispered,"Don't drop your personal items unless you want others to see them." The blonde-haired boy then disappeared as quickly as he had come, striding quickly back to the Slytherin table.

Hermione was mentally panicking. That was her diary that he had just slid across the table at her. Had he read it? Oh shit. What if he had? She should've known not to carry it around with her… but what if Lavender or Parvati got hold of it if she left it in the common room? Better them than Malfoy, she thought bitterly. Actually no. It would be quite equal in severity. But still, how the hell had it fallen out of her bag? Oh… maybe when she was trying to get her potions book out from the bottom, and then forgotten to pack it away in her haste to leave Snape's presence… Oh hell, this was some predicament she had gotten herself into. She stole a glance at Ron who was laughing at a joke about gnomes he had just made up, much to everyone else's dismay, thinking about what could happen if Malfoy had read it and decided to spread it around… Unless he hadn't…

Hermione groaned. She was not going to confuse herself in a maze of paradoxes in this crucial time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Relax Granger, I'm not going to eat you," Draco said bemusedly as they sat down for potions the following afternoon. Hermione had edged her seat as far away from him as possible while still allowing herself table space for preparing ingredients.

"It's not that I'm worried about," Hermione muttered darkly.

"I pity you too much to do anything harmful, Granger." Hermione looked up. Why would he say that? The Malfoy-scheme-detector she had established in her brain had started to race ahead, thinking up a million theories within the space of seconds.

"I mean, Weasley? Who would've guessed…? I thought that even you would have raised yourself beyond his level…" Malfoy cocked his head to one side, smirking.

"You didn't…" Hermione hissed, fuming. She was ready to stab Malfoy's hand with the potions knife already when he edged away slowly, eying the sharp object.

"I didn't read your little notebook of all things joyful, if that's what you're accusing me of," he said, rolling his eyes.

"You… didn't?" The girl was confused. Why hadn't he read it? She would've thought that her diary would've been the perfect revenge he could've possibly gotten on her for the kiss event, and something just didn't seem right…

"Then… how did you know --" she spluttered.

"Well, first of all," Draco began casually, but smiling on the inside since he was once again the centre of attention (attention seeking jerk, Ron called him),"you always eye him with this dreamy expression when you think nobody's looking," Hermione flushed and angry shade of red. "And, a page of your diary is sticking out of your bag," he motioned, pointing toward a lined page with the letters "H+R" in a messy heart. Hermione quickly stuffed it back in, flustered.

"That could mean anyone! And I do not eye him with a dreamy expression on my face…" she muttered, while cramming the notebook back to the bottom of her bag. How did the damn thing always find a way to crawl up her bag?

"Well you seem to be getting awfully touchy about the subject, making you even more suspicious," he drawled lazily, smirking. "By the way, you've stirred your potion too much again."

"Fuck off, Malfoy," She gritted through clenched teeth, getting out her wand to fix the problem, knowing exactly what Snape was going to say to her when he passed by.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

She was leaning on his shoulder, smiling. Clasping his hand in hers, she closed her eyes and felt the gentle rhythm of their hearts beating in harmony… Feeling the delicate touch of his lips on her temple, she looked up to see his face, only to find his features obscured by a mask. The man freed himself from her grasp and took flight, running from her until he was no more than a speck in the distance…

Then Hermione woke up, palms sweating and heart beating. She knew who it was of course… Ron always appeared in her dreams. But, why was he wearing a mask?

The giggles of Lavender and Parvati broke through her thoughts and she saw how stupid she was being. It was a DREAM… she wasn't going to fall through one of Professor Trelawney's doors and start inquiring her about its true meaning or something like that…

Still, she blushed. It was a side of Hermione that was rarely seen, the girl who liked romance and fairytales…

"I wonder what was under the mask…" she murmured.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco Malfoy was sitting on a bench on the grounds of Hogwarts at noon on Saturday. He was holding a book, but he had long gone past the point of reading. He was thinking and reflecting about his life, primarily about Pansy Parkinson. Sure, the girl was hot, but that wasn't why Draco had had his eyes on her from the beginning. She was interesting, and had one hell of a temper, something that he found himself being attracted to. But he had seen how many other guys she had made out with during the period of time they had been going out, and although he really liked her, he was beginning to see that it was not the case the other way around. He closed his eyes, groaning. Why was it so hard for a guy who already had a girlfriend to sort out his feelings? Eventually, the blonde haired boy fell asleep on the bench, unaware of the girl who had taken a seat next to him, not knowing who he was since he'd had his face in a book.

Hermione Granger was also holding a book in her hands, but unlike the boy next to her, she was actually reading. Occasionally stopping to scrawl in notes about what she'd read, she never looked up once to examine the Slytherin beside her.

Well, until she felt something warm holding onto her hand. Hermione peeked over the top of her book and almost let go of it in fright as she saw Draco Malfoy clasping her right tightly in his left, snoring gently beside her. Stifling a scream of horror, she tried to free herself from him, but he only held on tighter.

So, there sat Hermione, rigid from fright and revulsion, unable to free her hand from Malfoy's grasp. She'd tried to wake him up with no avail, and she didn't want to do anything drastic and disturb everyone around them… but even so, many couples raised eyebrows in their direction as they were walking past.

So after giving up trying to free herself and finally accepting that she was going to be sitting on that bench for more than just a few minutes, Hermione tried to keep reading. When she found that she couldn't concentrate properly nor take notes while her right hand was in Malfoy's, she let out a grunt of frustration and continued to sit there, not doing anything in particular. Her thoughts started to wander, and she lost contact with the real world altogether as she went deeper into her reverie.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

She was leaning on his shoulder, eyes closed, unaware of the stares that were directed towards them. Her hand was still clasped in his, and she felt him move beneath her. This snapped her out of her sleep at last. Seeing him starting to move, Hermione tried desperately to free herself from him. Hermione heard the boy murmur "Pansy…" so softly in her ear before she felt the familiar taste of his lips on her reluctant ones, her eyes widening in shock.

A boyish scream erupted from Hogwarts Grounds as Draco Malfoy opened his eyes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Woah! I haven't updated in a while and even now it's not going well. This story is bugging me so much lately for some reason… the events seem so coincidental, right? Well that's because DHr is just meant to be :D The next chapter will probably take ages for me to write again.. so sorry ; Please review! Zmallet