Chapter Six- Never Let This Go

WITCH WEEKLY'S SCANDAL OF THE WEEK

Narkoa's is a popular nightclub, but is appears its just as popular as a café for secret liaisons as your top reporter discovered.

Just yesterday, your top reporter witnessed the comings and goings of the young and handsome pure-blood Draco Malfoy, 21, of Central London with the plain but ambitious Mudblood Hermione Granger, also 21, of Ottery St. Catchpole.

The pair after having certain misgivings at their previous school (Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry) seem to be clinging to each in a desperate chance to get away from the hovering Ronald Weasley, 21, who happens to be Miss Grangers apparent boyfriend.

Ronald said in interview, "I can't believe her! She hated him once and now she's all lovey dovey with him- it makes me sick! I'd like to be happy for once but it seems that being happy is not for me!"

Yet when question about his affair with Madam Malkin's assistant dresser, Lavender Brown, 20 of East London, he replied, "No comment".

For more, turn to pages 6 and 7 for the full article, our weekly Why We Would Date/Why We Wouldn't Date column, those previous allegations of Mr. D. Malfoy, the devious minx's lust for powerful men and so much more. All right here, in WITCH WEEKLY.

Words: Rita Skeeter. Pictures: Bozo.

The article was then topped by a photograph of Hermione stumbling backwards up Narkoa's steps as the flash of the light hit them square in the eyes, Draco pulling her upright and them both scooting out of the frame.

Hermione scrunched up the article and threw it in a temper at the open oven door. "Confringo!" she muttered and the paper set alight, crumbling into wisps of paper and smoke.

She felt funny inside. Her stomach twisted into knots. She glanced up at Draco who was perched in the kitchen chair, a quill scurrying across the sheaf of parchment.

"Draco?" she asked, nervously. What would happen to Draco because of this stupid article?

He looked up and she saw the worry slowly etching itself into his face. He sighed and folded the scribbled on parchment, slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Hermione, I'm going to try and sort this. You know that Skeeter woman is just a complete and utter cow! If you get hate mail, bin it straight away, don't even open it!" he warned.

He sounds like Hagrid in the fourth year, Hermione thought, then sighed.

"Will I see you later tonight?" she asked, a little timidly.

Draco checked his watch and sighed.

"Work tomorrow, ok? I've got to sort this out and I don't know how long it will take. You're not mad are you?"

Hermione smiled and placed a hand on his. "Of course not!"

"Why don't you have a relaxing night in?" Draco suggested.

Hermione cocked her head to one side. "There may be a book I haven't read somewhere!" she laughed, putting her cheek out for a kiss.

Draco gave her proffered cheek a kiss, whispered, "I'll be thinking of you," and set out into the falling dusk

Hermione sighed and scowled at the fire where she swore she heard the name "Rita Skeeter" echoing from the ashes.

She scowled at the fire, slammed the door shut and headed upstairs for a well deserved lie down.