A Serpent in the Garden: Hermione's Point of View

I ignore my breakfast and my friends' conversations, losing myself in contemplation, instead. It has been a frustrating week since the incident in the library. I can't seem to think of ways to get Malfoy back; he's never alone. I flip through the Daily Prophet nonchalantly while I try to sneak a peek at my nemesis. He sips his pumpkin juice, completely unaware of how much bodily harm I want to inflict upon him.

I can't decide what bothers me more: that he acts as though nothing has happened, or that he has such control that he doesn't dare to take such risks again.

This is Malfoy. I bet the latter.

I let out an irritable sigh and look down his table to see Pansy looking morose. It seems whatever task she asked him to do, in her mind, still goes unfulfilled. He hasn't tried anything since that night. She doesn't remember our last tiff, but when I'm through with her, Malfoy will be the least of her issues.

What am I going to do with the both of them? This temporary inability to think of a way to get the both of them in one go is driving me mad. Malfoy seems to be looking over his shoulder these days, and Parkinson lacks the sense, and the important information, to know that she should.

"Hermione," Ron implores.

I snap out of my angry thoughts to give him a polite smile.

"Temperamental lately?" Harry snorts. Returning to his bowl of oatmeal, he resumes his breakfast.

I simply look at both of the boys. My lack of response prompts Ron to move a stray curl away from eyes, and rub my cheek gently. There is a soft look in his eyes. I've been unfair to my friends, and especially to Ron.

"Whatever Nargle is riding on your back, you can tell us, you know." Ron smiles with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

I've been so unavailable lately. I miss us. I smile at Ron, and lean into his hand, nuzzling back.

"It's not important," I whisper. Malfoy is mine to deal with.

At this, from the corner of my eye I can see Harry look up. He gives me a quizzical look. But, at the moment, I only have eyes for Ron. Our relationship is growing into something a little more than friendly. Harry coughs loudly before decidedly looking the other way. I settle on shelving my thoughts of revenge for now. I'd rather enjoy a moment with someone I care for.

Ron looks impish and smitten. I sit up to swing my legs back over the bench before standing up to leave. I do need to go, but rather than hurrying off as I might have done yesterday, I lean over, giving Ron a lingering kiss on the cheek.

Ron makes me feel so happy. I sweep his hair back, and breathing into to his ear, I murmur sweetly, "Meet you in class; I'll save you a seat if you promise to take your own notes."

"Cor, don't I always?" Ron cheekily answers. He's flushed, and his eyes glint like the devil. This gives me the giggles.

"Sure you do. You know a lazy mind is unbecoming."

I start to move off, but Ron grabs my wrist. Turning over my hand, he kisses my palm. His hot breath, and feathery-soft touch make my head swoon.

"Yeah?" He quips. His breath caressing my skin; desire floods me. "But how do you know it's not some genius game plan I have to get closer to you?"

"All these years?" I chirp. "You've had this genius strategy since first-year, have you?"

He lets my hand go, and flashes a wide grin. With a wink, he smugly pronounces, "Check mate. And the best part about that is, no one loses!"

I can't help feeling cheery in the glow of his boyish charm. I shake my head, and remind him of something he's forgotten, "Yes, I'll believe that when you explain how the rest of it figures into your oh-so-strategic game plan. Lavender Brown? Victor Krum?"

Ron beams. "Pawns, the lot of them."

I laugh; yes, Brown and Krum may have been pawns, for it seemed we did use those two to provoke a move from one another.

"See you in class, Ronald Weasley, Master Manipulator of Relationships and All Things Woman."

Ron laughs at my good-natured teasing as he waves at me. Harry joins Ron's chuckles. Harry may have had the grace to look away, but the little bugger was far from eavesdropping.

Before I get too far away, Harry calls out a quick question, "Hey, why are you going so early? Class doesn't start for another hour."

"Research, Potter!" I chirp back happily.

I shake my head at them; they look scandalized at the thought of heading into class so early. With a silly smile breaking out onto my lips, I head off to Transfiguration.

I want to speak with McGonagall on how it was that Barty Crouch Jr. was able to Transfigure others into animals. I've read the theory, but I've not really asked about the practice. I don't know if I can use that knowledge, but it's worth investigating.

As I make my way towards the class, I wonder what I would do with two ferrets, or snakes. That Parkinson and Malfoy should vanish would surely cause complications. To my knowledge, there are no laws that would land me in Azkaban for casting such a spell, but inside Hogwarts, there are rules.

Rules I know very well. Such as, "Teachers are not to discipline students by Transfiguration", and "Students are not to hex each other in the halls", and therein lies the finer details of what one can do, and hope to get away with. There are times I think, should Gryffindor not have been an option, and that if it were not for blood, I should have been
Sorted into Slytherin before Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff.

A devious smile threatens to break loose as I consider what it would be like to Transfigure Malfoy into a snake, perhaps a python, and Parkinson into a ferret. That Pansy's instrument of humiliation and torture should gobble her up, now that would be some kind of great justice. But what would I do with Malfoy afterwards? Again with the complications; revenge is tricky business.

I could always hex his balls off, but I've no doubt that with magic, Pomfrey will find a way to restore them.

I am nearing the corridor to Transfiguration when I find myself yanked back. Instinctually I close my eyes as I am being slammed into the nearest wall. The painful impact is enough to cloud my thoughts in a haze of buzzing ache.

"Getting a little comfortable these days, are we, Granger?" a smooth drawl asks. I can smell him, even as all my other senses tell me I feel pain. When I feel well enough to open my eyes, it is to glare at the owner of the voice. He glowers over me, and his hands are resting on the wall behind me.

"You're a wanker," I grit out, as I try to push Malfoy off me. "All this time I've been wondering when I would be able to catch you alone. And here you've gone and given me the opportunity."

"Language, Granger." He scowls."You're one to talk my filthy, filthy little Mudblood. Who has compromised whom, remind me again; oh, wait, that would be me towering over you after I attacked you first. What, did I not please you, and here I seem to remember you being so wet for me. Tell me, are you wet for me now?"

"Hardly!" I growl, digging my elbow into his sternum as hard I as I can.

"You know what I think?" Malfoy hisses into my ear, his hot breath is a catalyst for my release-starved body, and I shiver involuntarily, "I think you like it when I take you like this. Take you in a way that your little Weaselby only dares to dream of. It's been a week, and I have yet to see you take revenge. I think you liked it more than even you want to admit. That is why you can't think straight; tell me if I'm off?"

Before I can tell him to stuff it, he's grabs my neck and engages me in a searing kiss. I'm lost briefly to the intensity when my mind fixates on his comment. What about Ron? Is it possible he was watching yet again?

I bite his lip until I taste blood. Malfoy growls, and lets me go. Catching our breath, our eyes narrow on each other. He pants raggedly as he gingerly touches his hand to his injured lip before looking down disapprovingly at the blood on his fingers.

I grab for my wand before Malfoy can stop me.

"Petrificus Totalus!" I shout, but Malfoy has cast a Shield Charm. That nasty prat has a way of reacting all too quickly, and that is very annoying.

I glare at him in rage, and the bastard dares to smirk.

"Tsk, Granger, what happened to 'I'll kill you if you bloody touch me again', eh?" Malfoy smiles, un-phased.

"You are sick, Malfoy; really, really sick."

"No more than the Mudblood who wants me to ravish her senseless."

"Keep telling yourself that, junior rapist."

He laughs in my face, and I turn to walk away.

"Where do you think you're going? I didn't tell you you could go!" Malfoy snarls, reaching for my arm.

I dodge him, and send a Tripping Jinx his way. I am surprised to hear a thud. Turning around, I see Malfoy is lying there looking very surprised. I waste no time in Body Binding him while he is down.

I look at him and pause. Now is not the time. Classes will be starting soon, and, undoubtedly, people have started leaving the Great Hall. I stoop down to his level, and look at him properly. His eyes watch my every movement. If he could flinch, I believe in this moment that is what he would be doing.

"You have no idea what kind of hell you've unleashed upon yourself," I growl into his ear. I stand up, and kick him for all I am worth, right in his blasted stomach. Only after a muffled groan of pain escapes his lips do I release the curse. I watch on with sick satisfaction as he sputters in pain, trying to breathe.

"One could say the same for you, Granger." Malfoy coughs. He moves to his hands and knees to rest a moment. He gets up slowly, aware of my stance. When his eyes meet mine, I can tell he's on his guard now, and seems genuinely taken aback.

"Let's never do this again." I sneer disgustedly.

"No, let's," Malfoy snaps. "It's only just getting interesting. I never knew you to play so dirty. You are so very wrong, Granger. The things I know about you now only serve to prove what I've always known. Everything I've ever said about you. Deny it all you like, but we both know just how filthy you really are. You hide it from the world, but I've seen it now. I've tasted it on your dirty little lips."

"Piss off, Malfoy."

I turn my back on him as Terry Boot comes into sight. His words are meaningless; he can't know everything. He has barely scratched the surface.

Malfoy must have sensed that we were no longer alone as he doesn't say another word, and we go our separate ways. I'm not so stupid as to believe he won't come after me again. But I am so busy for the remainder of the day I can't think about what to do next. My mind is unable to concentrate when I think about Malfoy. I let Ron distract me, as I let all of the happy life things around me in. Malfoy is not worthy of the time I spend thinking of him, so I choose not to.

Later in the Gryffindor common room when I am alone, I think about Malfoy's choice of words. I don't understand how he can be jealous of Ron. As far as I am aware, he doesn't even like me. My body trembles as I remember that kiss. It is unnatural to be so aroused by one's enemy. It's sickening, and exhilarating, which makes it all the more confusing. Has Malfoy confused lust with some kind of claim? What is his fixation with me? I chide myself as I recall what he must have seen that night in the Prefects' Bathroom.

Maybe this is the way I should go about getting him back; I don't think whatever is holding him at distance can stand the sight of me with someone else. Sex does not make a relationship, nor does it count for any type of arrangement I wish to have with him, despite what his body does to mine. Still, I don't understand his motivations; I thought he just wanted to harass me, not possess me. It doesn't add up. I could consult Arithmancy charts later, I suppose.

My thoughts are interrupted for the millionth time today when warm hands cover my eyes.

"Ron." I smile. I am happy to have him here as my distraction yet again. I've been lost to these negative thoughts for too long.

"That obvious?" He chuckles, removing his hands before coming to sit next to me. Looking around, I don't see Harry, Ginny, or Neville.

"Where are the others?"

"Down by the Lake. I was sent to fetch you, and fetch you I shall." Ron beams.

I feel desire unfurl within my breast. Malfoy's attentions are unrequited, but I would be lying to say that they didn't stir something. I should probably feel guilty about this, but I'm not really that innocent.

"Or…" I say trailing off, swallowing thickly as I look at Ron's lips.

"Or?"

"Or, we could take a little detour?"

"That might be nice; I like the scenic way," Ron murmurs, before kissing me.

It is then I wrap my arm around his neck, and kiss him with all I have. Several minutes, or possibly hours, go by before I am able to break away.

When Ron finally opens his eyes, he pouts. I smile at him, and whisper, "Friends, waiting by the lake, remember?"

"Yes, there is that matter to attend to, isn't there?"

With a pout that turns into a sly grin, Ron snaps me up, and hoists me over his shoulder.

"Fetching Hermione Granger, right."

"Ronald Weasley! Put me down, I can walk just fine thank you very much!"

"Off to the lake we go, Hermione!" Ron shouts, taking off through the portrait, pretending as though he did not just hear me yell at him.

I squeal, but having Ron as my own personal taxi makes the butterflies in my stomach careen wildly in excitement. When we finally make it outside the doors of Hogwarts, I'm laughing so hard I can barely stand. Ron dumps me lightly onto the grass. He stands close to me, nearly out of breath, as he chuckles, and simultaneously groans from the exertion.

"That'll teach you to carry me around!" I snort with laughter, my sides starting to hurt.

"Oi, where does it all go? I swear most of your meals are spent with you picking at your food," he goads.

I grin at him. He should know better; I'm not going to react to such silly bait.

"Come on, the sun is starting to set!" I call out, racing off to beat him to the lake.

He easily catches up, but I give him a light shove. At this, he shouts a small profanity about me not playing fair before trying to trip me up. Now who isn't playing fair?

"No mercy!" He yells as he tries to grab me.

"Just you bloody try!" I laugh, dodging away from him. Hitting the lake's shore, I wrench out my wand from my pocket, stumbling a little in the processes as I send a jet of water at him.

"Ah. You'll pay for that my nicely-shaped friend!" Ron shouts gleefully; brandishing his own wand, he sets a water bubble the size of Crookshanks after me. I shriek as is it comes closer towards my head.He wouldn't dare!

I'm sure our ruckus echoes out over the water, but I don't care. This is the most fun I've had all day. We are so caught up in our play that it's almost dark when we realize that our friends are not at the lake. Ron notices first.

"You think they'd at least leave Neville behind to tell us where they went off to."

"Ron, that's hardly fair. Neville is not our personal messaging service. Besides, you're a wizard; they're wizards, and Ginny's a smart witch. The least they could have done is left a magical note in the sand or something," I chastise. "Really, when are you going to stop giving Neville such a hard time?"

"He doesn't mind it, Hermione; I mean, half the time he's in on it."

"Half the time!" I screech a little too loudly. I have a soft spot for Neville; he's not as weak as everyone thinks he is. He had his moment in the war just as everyone else.

"Oi, eardrums! Besides, why don't we just consider this a good thing, and get back to that detour? Our friends are obviously not missing us, you know."

"Mmm, you're right," I murmur, stepping closer towards him. Neville is a big boy, and really, I don't care that the others have run off.

Ron smiles shyly, and all I can seem to think is, "Gods how I love you, Ronald Weasley."

We are soaking wet from our little water fight. As Ron embraces me, his skin feels wet, cold, and slippery, yet the heat of his lips on mine warms me instantly. It doesn't take us long to fall to the sand below. With an "oompf" and a couple of nervous giggles, we snog like the silly little couple we are.

Amid the passionate kisses, I can't help feeling that we are being watched. I think Ron senses my distracted state, because in a bold move, he moves his hand down my thigh, and up my skirt to stroke my core. I can't help the groan that follows. That is pleasant, unexpected, but pleasant. It's only a shame we can't do this here.

"Please, Ron," I murmur. "Not here. Too public."

"Kind of daring, though, isn't it?" he counters.

"Yes, but much too risky," I say with growing irritation. I don't like being held in this position when I clearly want to be up.

"Hermione," he moans in my ear; the wild butterflies have returned. I would love nothing more than to explore this with him -- only I want to do it elsewhere.

"Come on," I whisper, breaking out of another kiss. "Let's go."

"Just… a… little… longer?" Ron says between kisses.

I'm starting to lose my patience. "No."

Ron ignores my answer in favor of sucking on that spot my neck. I sigh; it's delightful, but not that delightful.

I push Ron off, and give him what I am sure is one of the darkest looks he's received from me yet. He looks confused.

"What's wrong?"

"You! That's what's wrong; I said not here! You have to know that I wanted you to respect that."

"Merlin, I'm sorry. I thought you'd like the risk factor. You know, like a game? I thought you were into it."

I sigh, and move to sit away from him. "I think you need to head up without me."

"Aw, bollocks! I said I was sorry. I don't want to fight with you, Hermione."

"I'm not fighting with you, Ronald," I say pointedly. "I'm just stressed enough as it is. It's been hard readjusting. And I promise I will come find you after I take a moment to clear my head. I don't want to be mad with you. You didn't get the hint, and now you know. Let's not dwell, shall we?"

"Is it the thing that's been bothering you for the last week?" Ron mumbles.

No doubt he's hoping I'll tell him the reason for my moodiness, but the memory of my earlier altercation with Malfoy is not helping Ron's cause.

"Can I just have a little breathing room?"

"Sure," he grits in a mixture of typical Weasley defiance, and annoyance.

I can tell he wants me to confide in him, but Malfoy is not his problem. Malfoy -- that git is ruining things, and I haven't even found a way to pay him back, really.

Several moments pass, and I look back to see him heading up to school. I sit by the lakeside, contemplating why I felt the need to snap at my boyfriend.

Boyfriend? We are boyfriend, and girlfriend now? When did that happen?

I chuckle at my idiocy. Yes, I suppose that is what we are. It's not like I would let Harry snog me like that. Bleh. Harry's cute, but not in that way. Oh, Athena, Hera, and sweet Aphrodite, someone knock me out with a stunner if I ever think of Harry in that way.

I hear footsteps behind me, and I sigh. I shouldn't have snapped at Ron like that. It is not completely his fault; I was all over him just as much as he was all over me. And I could have handled his cluelessness better. Merlin knows I've had the past seven, or eight, years to get used to it. And if it hadn't been for Malfoy's perverse voyeurism and scheming, I wouldn't have cared one bit if anyone saw. I would have rightly enjoyed the risk as Ron had presumed.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have been so gruff with you. I know you didn't mean any harm," I tell Ron.

"That's interesting, Granger; I mean you nothing but harm. But your apology will be noted."

"You!" I growl. I reach for my wand, but his hand stops mine.

"Can't you take a hint, Malfoy? What part of 'hell' and 'unleashed upon yourself' are you not understanding?"

"You are a little bit of a slag, aren't you, Granger?" Malfoy drawls.

His eyes flicker up to the school in the same direction Ron had left. "Saw you getting busy with the great red oaf. Am I getting under your skin; were you wishing it was me?"

"Like I wish for Dragon Pox. Is this what you do for kicks now, Malfoy? You go around spying, having secret little wanks? How utterly pathetic."

A look of disgust flits across his face before he bothers to retort. His eyes go cold, and he sneers. "What's the matter, Granger? Finding it difficult to get off now that the Prefects' Bathroom is out of order? You know I can help you with that."

"What in the sodding hell is wrong with you, Malfoy?" I yell, trying to yank my wrist away. "I don't desire anything about you. If there is something to want, then it is unending pain for you. As far as I am concerned, for one life time, you haven't been beaten badly enough."

I try not to wince as Malfoy's grip tightens on my wrist.

"I wouldn' say such things if I were you."

"And I would let go of my wrist, if I were you," I threaten. "You don't scare me. You never have, and you never will."

He looks as if he's ready to slap me, and without a second thought, I steady my chin defiantly, waiting for an impact that never comes.

"So sure of yourself aren't you, Granger?" he asks. His tone is calm, but his eyes appear to be sizing me up. "You seem to be letting me touch you just fine."

"You have a hold of my wrist, you prat," I spit out. "Don't think that there won't be a price to pay."

"Is this your idea of foreplay? No wonder your little Weasel left in a huff," he purrs, moving closer to my face; he searches my expression for Merlin only knows what.

"What is your strange obsession, Malfoy? Does Daddy know you like to chase after all the pretty Mudbloods?" I sneer, pulling my wrist towards me again. Malfoy's grip is tenacious.

"Don't flatter yourself, Granger. I have a need that you will be filling. There's nothing more to it."

"When I profess my undying loyalty to Voldemort, and his lacy red knickers! You make me sic…" I rant until I'm cut off by another demanding kiss.

I won't stand for his bullshite. Using my free hand, I ball up my fist, and swing for Malfoy's jaw.

Feeling me move, Malfoy instinctively arches back. This time a slap comes, catching me unprepared. It feels wet and sticky above my lip, and my nose stings a bit; I think the prat just gave me a bloody nose.

"If this is how you were wooing Parkinson, let me say that you're going about it all wrong," I hiss, wiping the blood away with the back of my free hand. "Is this what Daddy does to Mummy? Fine examples. It's little wonder you turned out so spectacularly fucked up, you inbred little wanker."

Malfoy is oddly silent. Without emotion on his face, he grabs me by the front of my shirt, and forces me up to his eye level. I'm not scared. There is nothing this little shite can do that could compare to the torture and pain I've endured by those far worse than he. And what he doesn't know is that I don't need magic to take him down. I meet his gaze definitely.

"You are coming with me, Granger," Malfoy says menacingly.

"Are you so daft that you've forgotten you can't Apparate?" I laugh hollowly. "We're on Hogwarts grounds, you fool, and I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Wrong, Granger." He smiles wolfishly. "Various charitable trusts helped to rebuild this sodding school. Guess who shelled out the most shiny galleons for the best contractors?"

I strike out at him again, but he whips my arm behind my back and pulls me to him. Before I can unwind myself, I feel his wand pressing into my throat as his other arm wraps around my breasts, thus pinning me to him. It is then, in the exact moment I try to head butt him, that the world closes in, and into a violent crack of air, we vanish.

A/N: Many thanks to Weasleywench for beta'ing. And thank you to those who reviewed, I truly appreciate your feedback. :)