CHAPTER XIII
Hermione wove her way through the long corridors of Hogwarts until she found herself at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She was met at the portrait hole by Lavender Brown, who was eagerly telling a first-year what she had seen happen at the end of the match. "That's right – we just fell, straight to the ground," Hermione heard her say. "Oh, Hermione …" Lavender fell silent as she saw Harry's best friend, "Ron was looking for you; they said you could see Harry now."
Hermione remained silent and walked past the two students. She heard some muttering from behind her and guessed Lavender was continuing her tale. The common room was full of Gryffindor students, all talking in loud voices about the match. It seemed she had been gone for quite some time, and they were to make their way towards the Great Hall for the Halloween feast within the next hour.
Hermione, although approached by a few people, ignored her fellow students and made her way to her dormitory. When she reached her room, she threw herself onto her bed and buried her head in her pillow. Recovering, Hermione sat up and wiped away a single tear that had begun to roll down her cheek.
She leant over and found, in a drawer, a piece of parchment which was unused. Picking a quill, Hermione started to write; Dear Professor Dumbledore, she began. She paused, choosing her words carefully, before she began again; I know what happened today at the Quidditch match. Earlier today, Malfoy - Hermione stopped and put her quill down, she couldn't write it, she realised. How could she? She'd be expelled and … and who would believe her?
Screwing the parchment up into a ball, Hermione lifted her arm to aim it at the bin in the far corner of the room. Better not, she suddenly thought, I'll burn it later. She went to put it back into her drawer again and for this reason didn't see a shadow slip through the door and into her room. Overwrought with guilt, Hermione collapsed back on to the bed covers, closing her eyes and holding a hand to her forehead.
Hermione felt rather than heard a presence beside her and opened her eyes slowly, allowing them time to adjust to the light. On the edge of her bed sat her best friend. "Ron?" she asked, surprised, "but what – what are you doing here? How did you get in here?" Ron didn't say anything, just stared back at her. "Ron, about earlier …. I don't know what happened, I …"
Hermione stopped; Ron was staring at her, a murderous glint in his eyes. Hermione gulped, "how could you do ….. do that? With Malfoy!" Ron spat, turning his head to look away from her in disgust. "I don't know what you're doing Hermione, or even why you're doing it, but do you have no conscience? You're best friend is lying in the hospital wing without any feeling in one of his arms, and you're off …. well, you're off with Malfoy." Ron couldn't bring himself to say the word, "you disgust me."
Without giving Hermione any chance to reply, he stood and walked out of the dormitory, slamming the door shut as he went. Hermione sat frozen on her bed; Ron had a point, she realised angrily, Harry was lying unconscious because of her and Malfoy and all she could do was mope around here.
Hermione got up from her bed and crept to the door and down the stairs. She slipped silently through the common room and only relaxed when she had passed the portrait hole. The corridors were still empty, it seemed that everyone had gathered in their own common rooms to join in detailed discussions about the earlier match.
She slowed her steps as she neared the hospital wing. From inside she could hear a voice, muffled by the curtain which separated Harry's bed from where she stood. She looked around; where the two thin drapes met there was a small gap. Hardly daring to breath, Hermione moved closer and peered through the gap. She saw the plain white bedcovers of Harry's bed and tried to get a better view of his face. His arms were lying lifelessly at his side. His right arm, the only one she could see, was wrapped in plaster but a small amount of blood had seeped through. Hermione flinched at the sight.
Hermione lifted her eyes from Harry's unconscious body. The sound of a small voice came flooding back to her ears. Ron was sitting at the side of Ron's bed, directly opposite her. His red head was bent over his best friend's hand as he spoke softly.
"So, that's all really," he said slowly, "Hermione is … is kissing Malfoy and god knows what else. I don't know whether it's that potion he gave her, or …" Ron drifted off. Hermione leant further forward trying to catch what he was saying. "I don't know, Harry - I just wonder what's going on sometimes." Hermione bent her head lower, before walking away back towards the Great Hall.
It seemed in the half an hour she had been at the hospital wing, the rest of the school had begun to leave their common rooms to make their way to the Great Hall for the feast. She entered the Hall and, without looking up to the other tables, walked straight to where the other Gryffindors sat. Picking a seat away from the rest of her House members, Hermione sat down quietly, not wanting to talk to anyone.
"My dear students," Dumbledore's voice rang out through the Hall, "we all know what happened earlier today at the Quidditch match. Harry is currently still in the care of Madam Pomfrey, but she has every confidence that he will be fine, although it may take a while for him to recover." The Hall erupted as the students began to talk. Professor Dumbledore quietened them; "In the light of these events, I encourage anyone who has any information to notify me immediately. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match will be re-played at a later date."
Almost instantly, the Hall was filled with the noisy chatter of the students. Hermione blocked out the sounds and looked around the room. She glanced over at the Slytherin table; and her eyes fell immediately on Malfoy. He was looking at the food he had placed on his plate which was still lying there untouched. Pansy was sitting at his side, talking excitedly, but it was obvious he wasn't listening.
Hermione picked at her food during the feast; Ron still hadn't returned and was, she presumed, still at Harry's side, where she ought to be. On more than one occasion, she was approached by a Gryffindor enquiring after Harry. She sighed and ignored each of them, even Ginny. She could see, when she turned her head towards the front of the hall, the eyes of the teachers on her, watching her every move. Finally she decided she had had enough. Almost knocking her plate to the floor, Hermione stood up and ran to the doors at the back of the hall. She burst through them and continued to make her way back to the Gryffindor area.
She reached the portrait hole quicker than she thought she would, and through her tears mumbled the password. The portrait unlatched itself and opened a little. She threw it open and, slamming it shut, ran up to her room. She flung her door shut as well and paced up and down the length of her room. Her head was spinning and she couldn't get a series of images out of her head. Malfoy's incessant smile, Ron's look of pure disgust, the image of Harry lying motionless on the ground.
Hermione sighed with deep discontent and threw herself onto the bed, not even noticing her top drawer was open. She sobbed violently into her pillow and tried to think of happier times. Unable to this, however, she closed her eyes tightly, in an attempt to get to sleep. The second she closed her eyes, she saw only the image of Draco Malfoy. He was standing in front of her leering at her, teasing her to come closer to him. Hermione squeezed her eyelids even tighter; she wanted to get away from him, but she couldn't stop moving closer.
Annoyed with herself for thinking about him, Hermione opened her eyes and flipped herself over so that she was lying on her back. Above her was Malfoy. She gasped loudly and blinked; what was he doing in her room. Knowing she was incapable of moving in her shocked state, Malfoy took full advantage of the situation. In one quick movement, he placed one knee on her bed and swung the other one over Hermione's legs, pinning her to the bed.
"GET OFF ME NOW!" Hermione shouted at Malfoy, wiggling underneath him. This obviously startled Malfoy and set him off balance. Hermione, in a moment of control, pushed his chest away from her and flipped him over. His first reaction was to grab her around the waist and, as a result, the two teenagers ended up with Hermione lying on top of him. Hermione could feel her will weakening, and Malfoy knew it. He grinned slyly and easily shuffled around so that she was lying under him. Grabbing her wrists, he held her hands firmly above her head and glared down at the smaller girl.
Bringing her wrists closer together, Malfoy held them still with one hand, bringing the other lower to touch Hermione's face. "What's the matter," he sneered in her face, "am I not welcome?" Hermione froze, she didn't know what to do. All too quickly, Malfoy had bent even lower towards her face and when she opened her eyes, she only saw the silver-blue colour of his. Her breath caught in her throat as she willed herself to stay in control.
What would he do? Hermione suddenly feared the Head Boy; he was obviously in control of the situation and they both knew it. Even if she called for help, she was unlikely to receive a reply; everyone was still doing in the Great Hall, she thought, panic running through her thoughts. Her mind cleared as Malfoy pulled away, although Hermione was not reassured. He kept a firm grip on her wrists, his nails were digging deep into her flesh.
Malfoy brought his free hand to his chest and flicked it underneath his black velvet robes. He drew out a triangular flask and shook it gently. Hermione gasped, she had seen it before. Blue flashes sped across the green liquid. It was the potion she had taken the other night; memories came flooding back to her.
Malfoy smirked as he lifted the lid of the flask, looking down at her. Hermione struggled against his grip, afraid of what was going to happen. Malfoy didn't even falter and managed to hold her still until she gave up. "That's better," he spoke slowly, talking down to her as if she was a child, "now open wide."
Hermione kept her mouth shut as he brought the flash closer to her lips and quickly moved her head to face the opposite direction. She heard Malfoy chuckle inwardly, he was obviously enjoying this. "A persistent one, aren't you," she heard him mumble under his breath. Moving the flask away from where it now lay against her cheek, he set it on the top of her bedside table.
He kept her wrists secured above her head and used his free hand to nudge her face so that she was looking into his eyes again. He almost grinned as he saw fear flickering through her eyes, betraying her mood of defiance. He swooped down and pushed his lips onto hers. Knowing what he was trying to do, Hermione kept her teeth barred. She wouldn't let him get her this easily, she thought determinedly.
Malfoy was getting frustrated; Hermione could be so set in her ways, he thought angrily. In a last attempt, Malfoy dug his nails even deeper into her wrists, breaking the skin. Hermione, against her own will, gave a small yelp in pain. At this exact moment, Malfoy drew back from Hermione's body and held her mouth open. Hermione moved her head vigorously from side to side, knowing what was going to follow. Malfoy's eyes glinted evilly as he picked up the flask and brought it closer to Hermione's lips. She had no choice but to allow him to pour it into her mouth.
Still determined not to let Malfoy get the better of her, Hermione didn't swallow the liquid, keeping it in her mouth. Worried that she might try to spit it out, Malfoy used his spare hand to poke her sharply in the ribs. The sudden unexpected jolt caused Hermione to gasp and consequently swallow the liquid. She began to choke quietly. Malfoy let go off her wrists and but she lay stationary on the bed, a familiar feeling creeping over her.