I'm so glad that there are actually people enjoying this story. Sorry for the wait . . . school is hell, not to mention this chapter was hard to write for some reason . . . well, here you go.
Chapter 6: Slut
The first thing Hermione heard was a blast of loud music from some unknown wizard metal rock group, with unintelligible lyrics, screaming, and the works. Her eyes darted quickly left and right, searching for any sign of her friends.
She saw at least five couches, two minibars, and three tables of food, though her view was quite obstructed. A small dance floor had been conjured in the middle of the huge room, and already it was packed with horny sixth and seventh years, swaying to the music. Suddenly, she spotted them grouped together near the center of the crowd - Ron, Lavender, Harry, Ginny, even Luna and Neville, all dancing in a way that would have made Mrs. Weasley faint.
"Hey, it's them," Malfoy said, nodding in their general direction.
"Thank you, Mr. Obvious," Hermione replied sardonically. They mutually glared at each other for a second. He crossed his arms and hungrily eyed the nearest food table.
"Well," he drawled. "What's the plan?"
She twirled a lock of her hair, staring at the huge horde of people and thinking intensely. "Wait for a slow song. Then we're going to subtly move toward Ron and Lavender, and he'll see us . . . um, dancing . . . and hopefully he'll go bonkers."
Malfoy sort of grunted in assent and immediately headed towards the hors d'oeuvre trays.
"HEY! You do not just abandon me. We're supposed to be together!" Hermione snapped. She caught up to him and clutched his arm, intending to lead him nearer the dance floor, but Malfoy completely ignored her and simply dragged her along.
She stared at him incredulously as he scarfed down at least five mini sandwiches in one go, finishing with chugging a few glasses of punch. He then picked up a cheese cube, threw it into the air, and caught it in his mouth.
"Is that some talent of yours?" she asked, fighting a smile as she remembered a certain dinner roll incident.
"I suppose so. Crabbe, Goyle, and I used to do it when I was bored."
"That's what she said," she blurted out automatically. She clapped her hand over her mouth and giggled silently. Oh dear, she thought. The fluttering in her stomach was getting the better of her.
Malfoy stared at her, his mouth slightly open. "Wow, Granger. Wow. Didn't know you had that in you."
"That's what he said."
He looked positively perplexed. Hermione bit her knuckles and turned red from not laughing. She thought it was probably the fumes from the alcohol. It must be.
"Granger, do you need a drink? You seem a bit . . . off," he said solemnly. He took out his wand and shouted, "Accio firewhisky."
A bottle zoomed over from the minibar, hitting a few heads on the way, and landed obediently in Malfoy's hand. He uncorked the top, took a brief swig, and passed it to Hermione.
Instead of drinking, she glanced at her reflection in the amber glass and stroked a few strands of her hair, tugging at her hair tie and deciding against it. "Hmmm . . . do you think I should keep my hair up or let it down?"
Malfoy shrugged and slid his hands in his pockets. "Depends on what impression you want to give. You want to look sleek and sophisticated . . . or wild, sexy, and hot?" he said.
She glanced at him, eyebrow raised, which elicited another shrug from him. With a flourish, she whipped her hair tie off and let her hair tumble down over her back and shoulders. It felt a bit ticklish, but also slightly daring . . . even though she wore her hair down all the time. No matter.
"How is that?" she asked, combing her locks with her fingers.
"Great."
"Amazingly, erotically, fantastically 'great'?"
"Maybe to a sphinx. I hear they love big manes."
"Thanks a bunch," Hermione said sarcastically, but she left her hair that way. He smirked unhelpfully and pointed to the firewhisky bottle still in her clutches.
"Are you going to have any of that?" he inquired. "Because I want it back if you're not."
Instinctively, she glared at him and turned her body so the firewhisky was out of his sight and reach, slapping away the arm he extended to take the bottle. "This is mine now!" she snapped. She lifted it to her lips, staring defiantly at Malfoy at the same time.
She felt the burning in her nose first as she poured the liquid into her mouth. The firewhisky passed through her system like an inferno, painful, hot, but somehow comforting. Her head seemed to clear and the jitters in her stomach disappeared.
"Mmm, this is excellent," she gushed and took a longer, deeper drink. The cleansing flame burned through her body again, but this time she felt slightly light-headed.
"Really? Granger, a closet alcoholic?" said Malfoy, smirking.
"Shut up, I'm not an alcoholic." She gulped another two mouthfuls before Malfoy gently wrestled the bottle out of her hands.
"I think that's enough. You haven't built a tolerance yet."
Hermione pouted and tried to reach for the firewhisky, but he held it high above his head. The sudden movement of her arms made her head swim briefly and she had to use Malfoy's arm to steady herself, silently cursing herself for actually have such a low tolerance.
"Thanks," she said, oblivious to his eye-rolling.
At that exact moment, the song changed to a Celestina Warbeck ballad that Hermione recognized as Mrs. Weasley's favorite single. A slow song.
"Perfect!" she yelled. Several heads turned to stare at her, but she ignored them and firmly grabbed Malfoy's hand. "It's show time, beeyooootch."
She felt Malfoy shake with silent laughter. "Granger. What the fuck was that?"
"Shut up," she retorted, though it was true that the alcohol made her feel rebellious, more reckless. "And don't swear, it's bad."
"Coming from Miss Firewhisky . . . "
Hermione ignored him as they clawed their way through the crowd, trying to reach the nucleus of the dance floor. Hermione noticed several people, including the Patil twins, Dean Thomas, and Anthony Goldstein, staring and pointing at her and Malfoy while whispering furtively to their neighbors. Regular Hermione might have chickened out of her plan at that point, but alcohol-laden Hermione was more determined than ever.
She stuck her chin up in the air as she pushed through a few more layers of students. Before they reached the group with Ginny, Harry, and Ron, she stopped abruptly and threw her arms around Malfoy's neck. He went along with her and placed his hands on her waist, though looking confused.
"Why are we stopping here?" he asked loudly over the music.
"We'll work ourselves into their group so it won't look like this was planned," she shouted. "It has to be gradual!"
"It is planned!" he yelled back. She ignored him.
They danced slowly for a while, getting a little bit closer to the center of the dance floor with every step.
Hermione kept her arms placed awkwardly around Malfoy's neck and casually turned her head left and right, glancing at everything except him. After appraising every detail of the room at least three times, she finally sneaked a subtle peek at him. He was much taller than she thought, and she was forced to look up to see his face in its entirety. He didn't put gel in his hair today and it fell softly across his gray eyes. With the contrast of his pale features and his dark clothes, he was actually rather good-looking. She wondered why she hadn't noticed before.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. He smelled kind of like mint and something sweet and cool, maybe fruity. Who knew that slimy bastard could smell so nice? Or look so nice? Or be nice in general? Her stomach twitched slightly at these blasphemous thoughts.
"Hey Granger, whatever happened to the buck teeth?" Malfoy suddenly said, breaking her reverie. She opened her eyes abruptly and saw that he was staring off into space behind her with a poker-face expression, with the small exception of a slight twitching of the corners of his mouth. With a start, she realized that she had been smiling and quickly stopped.
"Interesting you would ask," she said, a little sourly. "They're gone thanks to you."
"Huh?"
"Remember? Fourth year? You hexed my teeth so they kept growing, and I had to go to Madam Pomfrey and get them fixed. I just let her shrink them a little bit past normal."
"Oh yeah, densaugeo," he said, chuckling. He was looking at her now.
"I should be a Healer, or one of those Muggle things . . . orthee-donkists," he said, obviously very proud for remembering the word.
"No you shouldn't," she firmly countered, though pleased that he was suddenly in such a good mood.
"So then, what happened to that disgusting hair?" he asked after a small pause. "My memory may be faulty, but I don't recall hexing it to be extra frizzy."
Hermione's mouth dropped and she removed an arm to punch Malfoy very hard in the chest. He winced, but continued to smirk.
"Easy there, Granger. It was a compliment," he explained.
"Really? Please elaborate," she snapped.
"It means your hair isn't as a much of a bird's nest as before."
She pursed her lips and said, "Right . . . well, I dunno, I suppose I'm just taking care of my personal appearance more. You know how when you're a kid, you don't really care how you look . . . something like that. I suppose."
"Or . . . " he said mischievously. "You're showing off for Weasley?"
She shot him a death glare and punched him in the stomach, harder than the first time. He actually flinched a little and complained with a small "ow."
"Don't you know when to shut up? Stupid, spoiled prat."
"But it's true, isn't it? The Weasley bit," insisted Malfoy.
"Of course not! Honestly, I don't think he would notice anything short of me dancing naked in front of him." She paused. "Okay, let's pretend I didn't just say that."
"Too bad you did say it," he said, grinning. "Now I can use it against you, how great is that?"
"Oh, sod off . . . "
"Clever comeback, Granger."
"Must we always be engaged in a battle of wits?" she said dramatically, rolling her eyes.
"We must," Malfoy replied with complete solemnity.
She couldn't help her lips from curling. They danced with each other silently, listening to the hum of whispers surrounding them as Celestina Warbeck belted out ridiculous lyrics about a cauldron full of hot, strong love.
Then, there was suddenly a loud, anguished voice that rose up somewhere to Hermione's left; a voice that she had anticipated on hearing that night.
"H-Hermione? Malfoy?" Ron screamed.
The entire room grew silent except for the music blaring over their heads. Hermione's smile vanished.
Harry and Neville looked as if they were passing kidney stones, but it was nothing compared to Ron's livid, ghostly white face. His hands were clenched in tight fists and he held his body so rigid that he was shaking, to the point that Hermione thought he looked seriously ill.
"Hello," she said, carefully removing herself from Malfoy.
"Fancy seeing you here, Weasley," Malfoy greeted pleasantly, twisting his lips into his most evil, sarcastic smirk.
"H-how? Who the fuck invited her and that - that ferret?!" Ron bellowed, looking around wildly as if the answers were hiding from him.
"I did," Ginny replied in a shaky voice, stepping forward. "Well, I invited Hermione at least." She looked at Hermione with confused brown eyes and avoided Malfoy's curious glance.
Lavender also stepped forward. She took Ron's armed and tried to drag him back towards her, but he was immobile.
"Come on," she hissed. "Screw her."
Ron laughed coldly, completely ignoring Lavender and Ginny. "Oh, I get it. You're trying to make me jealous, right? You did the same thing with McLaggen, now it's just Malfoy instead. Great plan, Hermione. Well it didn't work. Because this is so obviously fake."
Hermione felt a burning sensation inside her, similar to the effect of firewhisky. "For you information, we are a couple," she lied convincingly, the heat spreading throughout her entire body.
"Prove it," Ron countered.
"And just how do we do that?" laughed Hermione. Cold sweat burst out behind her neck immediately, but she kept her sarcastic smile plastered to her face.
Lavender, who had given up restraining Ron, stepped beside Ron with her arms crossed. "Kiss him," she said. Ron looked shocked for a small moment, then turned to smirk at Hermione smugly.
Time seemed to stop. Hermione had not anticipated this at all. Her stomach did several back flips, and Malfoy completely froze. They exchanged a single confused, frantic glance.
Then without warning, he turned her to face him, leaned down, and pressed his lips against hers. Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets in shock, and she saw him giving her a warning look. The kiss lasted about half a second before Malfoy hastily removed himself and tugged at his shirt sleeve uncomfortably, his complexion slightly green. His mouth was pursed in a ridiculous manner, as if he were trying to keep them as far away from the rest of his body as possible.
"You've got to be joking," scoffed Lavender, who clearly was not impressed. "That proved shit. My grandmother kisses me more passionately that. Do it again."
Hermione's heart pounded like a hammer trying to break through her ribcage. Why couldn't anyone hear it?
"This is ridiculous," she trilled in a high, unnatural falsetto.
She looked at Ron, who, unlike Lavender, apparently thought the kiss meant something. His face was frozen in absolute horror; Hermione was afraid vomit would start spilling out of his open mouth.
Lavender said loudly, "It shouldn't matter if you're going out, now should it?"
Hermione laughed nervously. "Well, we don't really enjoy doing public displays of affection . . . It's . . . er, distasteful."
"But you just did one, like, ten seconds ago.".
Hermione opened and closed her mouth, trying to think of a catty retort, but nothing passed her mind except a few swear words that would have been inappropriate and stupid. "Oh piss off, you bitch. Fine. FINE!"
Now Hermione was the one who spun Malfoy around.
"Granger, what the - mmmph!"
Without hesitation she grabbed the sides of his head and pulled him down to crush her lips over his, moving her mouth expertly and even rubbing her leg against his thigh a little. If this wasn't convincing enough, she didn't know what was.
Malfoy was immobile, unnatural, his eyes still wide open. She impatiently pressed herself even more into his body and deepened the kiss, pushing for some kind of response. He stumbled backwards slightly from the weight, still clearly in shock, and grasped her arms so that they both wouldn't fall. She firmly pinched his arm and opened an eye to glare at him significantly.
Hermione moved her mouth over his jaw and hissed in deadly soft voice, "Do something, you douche. I'm not supposed to be snogging a fucking statue!"
The insults seemed to have some effect. Malfoy blinked a few times and glared downwards at her, a small scowl forming on his lips.
"Don't tell me what to do, bitch," he whispered, barely breathing the words. Hermione was about to stop out of exasperation, but suddenly he cupped her chin and turned her face back to his, looking extremely defiant. They locked eyes for a fraction of a second - her wide, shocked ones into his mischievous ones - before he leaned down and pressed his lips on hers. With a surge of adrenaline, Hermione responded enthusiastically and they went on for quite some time. After a short while, she was actually starting to enjoy it, especially since Malfoy seemed to know exactly what he was doing.
It wasn't like this before - not with Viktor, not with McLaggen, and she certainly had not snogged someone senseless in front of her friends. I am so drunk, she thought vaguely.
They finally broke apart after an indefinite amount of time, both of them slightly panting. Hermione wasn't sure if it had been ten seconds or ten minutes, but it was still completely silent around them. That was strange. Just a moment ago it had seemed so loud.
Malfoy looked rather shocked but he was smiling in a hesitant way, showing off a set of straight white teeth.
"That was . . . something," he mumbled.
Hermione blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the stars in front of her eyes. Both of them straightened up and turned hesitantly to face the crowd.
Instead of being white, Ron was now a deep shade of angry purple, his fists again clenched tightly beside his rigid body. Most of the girls, including Lavender, had their mouths agape and eyes widened to the size of ping pong balls. Harry, Neville, Dean, and Seamus all looked sick to their stomachs, while Ginny had the most normal expression with her slightly raised eyebrows.
Ron stepped forward to Hermione and lifted a trembling arm, a thousand emotions flitting across his face - the most prevalent one being anger.
He slapped her.
The crack seemed to echo across the room over and over again. Hermione gasped and covered her cheek, trying to stop her tears of pain and hurt. Her stomach rolled unpleasantly and she thought she was going to throw up. The crowd behind Ron all inhaled simultaneously, making the silence even more deafening.
"You . . . you . . . " Ron hissed, pointing a finger shakily at her face. "Hermione Granger, you are a disgusting slut."
The silence seemed to triple in thickness. No one breathed, no one moved; everyone stared at Ron and Hermione, waiting for something to happen.
Slut. The word slashed through her like a knife. Anger boiled in the pit of her stomach as she remembered all the stupid things she did to get him back, when in return she got nothing but a slap and the word slut.
"Hell no," she gritted through her teeth. "You are the slut, you fucking man whore!" He gaped at her, having never heard her swear so profusely before.
She went up to him and slapped him back with all the force she could muster.
As he yelped and stumbled backwards, he was immediately knocked forwards again and fell face first to the ground. Hermione saw Ginny behind him, holding up her offending fist and looking furious. Then, of all people, Malfoy dropped to his knee, picked Ron up by the collar of his shirt, and punched him squarely in the eye.
"You son of a bitch," Malfoy said in a almost sing-song voice, looking behind him to smirk at Hermione. This was clearly his favorite part of the evening. "Hasn't your mum taught you not to hit girls?"
Ginny also dropped down to Ron's level and lifted his head up using his hair. "How could you do that to Hermione?" she roared. "Wait until I tell Mother about this. You're getting a Howler for sure tomorrow. Filthy, stinking, bastard."
"And Hermione!" she suddenly cried out, which took Hermione by surprise. "You are a slut! For God's sake, woman!"
Hermione gave Ginny a hard expression and folded her arms defiantly.
Ron groaned painfully and rolled out of the grasps of Malfoy and Ginny. They left him on the floor, squirming, while Lavender and Harry hurried to tend to him.
As soon as he could open his right eye, Ron pushed aside his attendants and stood up. Hermione could already see bruises starting to form in his right eye and a red hand mark on his cheek. He avoided eye contact with everyone and stomped to a corner of the room, kicking anyone who was in his way.
The audience, sensing closure, quickly dispersed, and Hermione, Malfoy, and Ginny stood together awkwardly, throwing confused glances at each other and shuffling their feet.
Ginny suddenly grabbed Hermione's arm and quickly led her away into a small, unoccupied corner, leaving Malfoy alone in the middle of the dance floor.
"Hermione!" she hissed, looking around to make sure no one was listening. "What in Merlin's name was that?"
"Um."
"Sure, Ron's a royal arse, but . . . my god. How far are you willing to go? Okay, the slap and the 'slut' part wasn't exactly gentlemanly. . . but, Draco Malfoy? Goddammit, Hermione, goddammit. I was literally this far - " she pinched her fingers together " - from puking. If I hadn't talked to you before, I would've completely believed what I just saw there and I've been supportive, since Ron is a fucktard, but Malfoy is simply crossing the line, dammit and - "
"Ginny!" Hermione said loudly.
Ginny took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but that was the bitchiest thing I have ever seen."
Hermione bit her lip and tried to force her heart to slow down. "I know," she said. "But I - I'm not really sure. After what you said before, I think he might. Fancy me, I mean. Malfoy. Me." Her mouth instantly went dry at saying these disturbing words.
"Well, of course he does," Ginny snapped. "The problem here is that you're using him to get back at Ron. You're deeply hurting both of them."
She couldn't help but snort. "Malfoy was perfectly happy to be causing harm to Ron," Hermione scoffed. "I don't think he was very hurt. And he agreed to doing this, so it's not like I was manipulating him or anything."
"Aren't . . . you a bit repulsed?" Ginny asked suspiciously.
"By what?"
"Malfoy!"
Hermione blinked and said, "Yes, of course! I mean, well, no. Since we're friends, but . . . didn't we go over this a week ago?"
"Not really," Ginny said. "Why are you getting so flustered?"
"No one's getting flustered!"
Ginny suddenly shrieked. "Oh my god, Hermione! You fancy him too!"
"WHAT THE HELL?!?" Hermione yelled. A few nearby people turned around and stared at her. She lowered her voice and hissed, "Ginny, are you drunk? How in Merlin's name did you come up with that conclusion?"
She shrugged and patted Hermione's shoulder in a motherly way. "Perhaps one day, you'll come up with that conclusion also."
"What??"
Ginny laughed, quite amused, then looked up to see past Hermione's head. Hermione turned around to find Malfoy stomping up to them, looking rather grumpy.
"Some slutty sixth year was hitting on me," he announced, pointing behind him to a blond girl standing by herself. "I feel violated."
"That - that's Luna!" screamed Hermione, breaking out in hysterics.
"She was saying how my hair reminded her of Crumple-horned Snorkack piss! 'It is precisely that healthy, translucent, pale yellow color,' " he mimicked, quite indignant. "Pale yellow my arse!"
Hermione almost ripped an abdomen muscle giggling and she turned around to laugh with Ginny, only to find that she had mysteriously disappeared.
"That's odd . . . " she muttered under her breath.
"What?"
"Oh, I was just talking to myself."
"Um, all right . . . "
The thousandth silence that night, it seemed, ensued between them.
"Anyway," Malfoy said loudly. "Are you planning on any more mischief?"
"Er, no," mumbled Hermione.
"Then . . . I'm leaving this shitty Gryffindor party." Without a backward glance, he turned and started for the exit.
"Wait, I'll come too!"
He stopped immediately and waited until Hermione caught up. At that moment, Ginny chose to suddenly reappear and scream, "Are you leaving already, darling?!" She had a shot glass in her hand and her eyes weren't focused quite right. It was shocking what a few minutes and a couple ounces of firewhisky could do to a person.
"Yes, I'm leaving. Thanks for the invite," Hermione said kindly. She hugged Ginny and quickly darted out of the Room of Requirement, Malfoy close behind her.
He cleared his throat as they were walking. "So, I never knew you Gryffindors were this slutty."
She ignored him.
He was looking at her now, the signature smirk back on his lips. "You know, Granger, I like them feisty," he said in a seedy voice. "That slap was hot."
Hermione let out a guttural choke and turned her head to face him. "Keep dreaming, ferret."
He rolled his eyes and lost the smirk. "You keep dreaming," Malfoy said, snorting. "I have better pieces of ass than a desperate Muggle-born."
"I'm sure Pansy 'the Cow' Parkinson is amazing."
"That bitch is a sodding wanker. Don't even mention her." Malfoy growled, clenching his teeth together in frustration.
"Touchy now . . . " Hermione said with a small smile.
"You're just begging for a beating, aren't you?" he said.
Feeling daring and random again, she gave him her sweetest, widest smile which immediately wiped his smirk off, only to have it replaced with an expression of utter confusion.
"It's too bad you don't hit girls now, isn't it?" she said, looking up from under her eyelashes and subtly licking her lips. They were now in front of the Heads' dorm, and she thought she would get some revenge for his offensive comments.
Malfoy gaped at her. "Holy shit, Granger," he hissed. "Don't do that, you're scaring the fuck out of me." He quickly barked the password to the large door, and practically ran over Hermione to get through. He was in his room with his door closed before she even took a step near the front door.
Chuckling, she went into the dorm after him and kicked off her sandals. "Hey, Malfoy," she called in the general direction of his room.
"What do you want, slut?" came the distant, hollow-sounding reply. He was probably in his bathroom.
"Don't start wanking!" Hermione yelled.
"WHAT? WHO'S WANKING?"
She laughed and sat on the couch, leaning her head back. After a small pause, she called out, "No, but seriously now. Thanks for doing . . . everything."
Another pause before the reply. "Sure, whatever."
"Night."
"Don't have a naughty dream about me now, Granger. Night."
Hermione scoffed and went into her own room, thinking how very strange her life had become.
Whew. This is probably full of grammar mistakes and typos but I'm too lazy to go through it . . . Well, I don't know if you guys hated this or loved it, but there's more to come. Again, based on some of my own experiences (of course not this silly or dramatic, lol). Chapter 7 up soon enough!