Out of the Room and Into the Fire
By Greenfly
COMPETITION
PRIZE AVAILABLE. If you can guess who it is, then you get to pick a situation/line that will feature in this fic! Wahoo! (i.e. Draco wearing leather, an embarrassing situation that someone walks in on, or someone having to say the line 'Look Harry, chocolate biscuits are falling from the sky!' or 'I knew you were a teapot!'. Okay, how cool is that prize? Very cool thinks greenfly. Toto agrees. If it goes well, I'll do it more often. Heh heh heh… (rubs hands together in anticipation).
Okay, guess who. (drum roll please).
A member of the Slughorn Club. Tall, handsome, intelligent, ambitious… evil?
(Reads back over that) Kind of an anti-climax, wasn't it? Ah well, on with the fic! (drum roll please... Look, I don't care if your arms are bloody aching! I said DRUMROLL! Roll that drum damnit! No! You can't fire me! I CREATED you, so when I say drum roll, you drum roll or I will… un-create you. Yeah, that's it. I will UN-create you! Mwahahaha! (drum roll) Oh, you always have to go and spoil my fun, don't you? Darn it, I need a cookie.)
Well, now we have a drum roll, I proudly/modestly present to you, another chapter!
TADA!
(Oh how you're gonna wish you'd carried on reading 'Spot the Dog' instead of turning to ffn and reading this.)
Oh. And I own nothing except for my fingers and right kidney.
Chapter Six – Musings and Marshmallows
Breakfast. Ahhh… the best time of the day. Not.
Draco Malfoy was not a morning person, but apparently Hermione was by the look of her grin as she entered the great hall and winked at him in greeting. Completely without his permission Draco's lips quirked upwards and suddenly his pancakes looked much more appealing. The way the sunlight glinted off the maple syrup was simply awe-inspiring. He'd try to remember this image so that he could learn to paint and paint it later, and it would be put in a museum when he died and thousands would flock to see his masterpiece and would think-
"OI! NUMBSKULL!" Draco jumped and edged backwards when he saw the fork that was waving erratically close to his face.
"Wha-?"
"Me - Blaise. You - Malfoy. Me – Earthling. You – off in la-la land with the fairies. Curiously enough while staring at The Mudblood."
Draco's eyes snapped to Blaise's long face at these last words. Uh oh…
"Why were you staring at Ranger Granger, eh?" Blaise laughed loudly at some internal joke. "You don't-" The laughter died suddenly. "You do?"
"No." That was too quick. Should have asked what he was talking about.
"How do you know what I'm talking about then?"
Sly dog. Snake to the centre. Think of a good comeback Draco, think of a good comeback. And NOT 'you are a teapot'…
"I can tell by the evil glint in your eye, Zabini."
DAMNIT Draco! He'll take that as a compliment! Can't you think of anything better? "And because you are a teapot." Draco added quickly, before Blaise had a chance to answer. Internal Draco covered his face with his hands and wept tears of fury. Meanwhile, External Draco had suddenly found his glass of pumpkin juice particularly interesting. I wonder how you make pumpkin juice…
"Draco. You've reverted back to the teapot. I am obviously intimidating you and that only happens when I'm onto something you want to hide. Remember when you found out that your houself had packed one of your mum's bras in your school trunk and you tried to pass it off as Pansy's…?"
"SHHHH!"
Head's whipped round to see Draco with his hand tight over Blaise's mouth, hissing loudly in his ear. Pink tingeing his cheeks Draco slowly removed his hand and stopped imitating a snake in a washing machine with Dumbledore's socks.
"I do not fancy the mudblood."
"Then why did you wince when you said 'mudblood'."
"I didn't."
"Did too."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"Did not."
"Mum's bra…"
"I did." Draco hung his head.
"Just don't make it so obvious Draco. Son." Blaise said, patting Draco on the shoulder in a fatherly way.
"What? You're not going to shun me? Owl my father?" His only response was a feigned look of hurt. Now he came to think of it, Blaise had a very mobile face…
"Why in Grindewald's gonads' ancestry would I care who the hell you fancy?"
"Because, because…" Draco was floundering.
"You're floundering, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"I have a reputation to uphold Draco. I am a sly, evil, conniving bastard from Slytherin. I worship the Dark Lord and will be his servant yadda yadda yadda. It doesn't mean I have to agree with it. It's a way of life. I use the mask. It's how I survive. Now you have a choice to make, but I'm not going to tell you what it is because it's too early in the morning and I haven't quite figured it out for myself yet. But if you're gonna go all goo-goo eyed at a mudblood Gryffindor, do it in privacy – not at the Slytherin breakfast table. And make sure that everyone else thinks you hate her."
"Wow Blaise, that was… deep."
Blaise dramatically flicked imaginary hair over his shoulder, before going back to his now very soggy Cheerios.
Merlin, Draco thought glumly as he glanced at Hermione before watching the arrival of the post. Breakfast was never a good time of the day.
Ronald Weasley had a very mobile face, Hermione decided, watching him with morbid fascination as he shovelled food past the hole in his jaw and saw it mysteriously disappear before coming in contact with his teeth. When her observations became too much, Hermione would glance slyly at Dainty Draco and she would feel strengthened, ready to go back to alternately scolding and staring at Ron.
The Golden Trio had had some chats over the weekend. Hermione had finally relented and told the other two the origin of the book she was so often seen writing in. Their responses were… unusual, but expected nonetheless. But after many, many discussions Harry had drawn an ultimatum; a kind of bet, if you will. He and Ron would accept that she didn't consider Malfoy an enemy, and would not hex him, until such time that he made the slightest sound that suggested something offensive towards Hermione.
Hermione had high hopes. If Harry and Ron could accept her not hating Draco, perhaps they could accept her… liking Draco, if that was the word? She knew that Draco wouldn't insult her. Not now. Not after the Room. He'd promised never to call her the 'M' word again, because he now knew it hurt her. And she was sure that he had feelings for her too. If only they could figure out a way to make it work… Wouldn't it be great if Draco could renounce his Death Eater heritage and they could live happily ever after? Just like a muggle fairy-tale…
"Hermione's gone off to book-world again Ron."
"Do you reckon she would mind if I drew on her face?"
"Probably. She's strange that way."
Sighing, Ron helped himself to Hermione's pancakes. (She had confiscated his bag of lemon drops).
Harry had finally dragged Hermione back to the living and she in turn had finally dragged Ron away from her food, so together the Golden Trio (as they were so ironically named) were leaving the Great Hall. As was her wont, a sudden thought suddenly struck and left Hermione and she suddenly stopped stock still in the doorway trying to grasp and the comet tail of this very sudden thought. Harry and Ron waited patiently for her in the hallway.
And as was their wont to do, Draco and Blaise finished breakfast and decided to leave for their first lesson. Seeing the doorway obstruction, Blaise stood behind the Afro-Wannabe Girl (as he privately liked to call her), waiting for her to move. Draco however, saw a chance to prove his non-feelingness. He stalked up and pushed her roughly out of his way so that she fell into the door and bashed her funny bone (not a funny experience at all, I tell you now).
It took a minute for the harshly spoken words to register in Hermione's mind, but when they did she had to blink furiously. "Get out of my way mudblood bitch" was not something that you wanted to hear early on a Monday morning from the guy you have a crush on. Believe me. What made it worse was the look on Harry's face; a cross between triumphant, angry and sympathetic. (He too had a very mobile face).
Draco stalked off and around the corner, Blaise chasing after him and shaking his head sadly. Harry held Ron back both physically and mentally from hexing the snakes by pointing out that revenge is a dish best served cold (he should know) and that Hermione was still half-sprawled across the floor in the doorway. Being the gentlemen that they are, both boys rushed to help Hermione and mutter 'consoling' comments about what a dastardly guy Malfoy was, but Hermione only heard an irritating buzzing. She was staring after where Draco had turned a corner out of sight.
She ignored Harry as he brushed her down and straightened her clothes for her, and she ignored Ron as he picked up all her books and repacked her bag. A platinum head had poked itself around the corner and after looking both ways a pair of blue eyes fixed on her own.
"Sorry." (Thank Merlin Mundungus Fletcher had taught her to lip-read).
And then the head was gone along with those pretty blue eyes and the sincere apology that had made her so confused, and trebled the difficulty of her Arithmancy class because she kept drifting off and thinking about it. What on earth was going on? He'd ruined her bet with Harry! Now there was no hope. The idiot. What did he think he was doing! He couldn't mess with her and get away with it! She'll beat him up! (Professor Vector looked mildly worried when his favourite student started beating her hand into her fist under the table, but he decided not to comment). She WAS going to beat him up! Just let him wait. She'd kick him in the butt, and knee him in the balls, and punch him in the gob… no. Not the gob, she liked his lips the way they were. She'd punch him in the eye. No, not the eye. Old yellow bruising didn't suit his complexion… Right, she'd have to punch him in the chest then… But what if she hurt him? Okay, she'd just have to settle for kneeing him in the balls…
But why in the name of Dobby's tea cosies did he apologise to her?
Git.
Oh, this was too confusing. And Professor Vector was eyeing her oddly.
Pervert.
And why was her hand hurting?
Lunch featured entertainment… of a sort. If you consider Hermione biting into her hot bread roll (with melted butter) and suddenly turning into a giant canary entertaining.
The Slytherin's did. Draco had been watching her all of dinner, and now she knew why.
Git.
Only Blaise noticed that Draco's raucous laughter seemed a little strained, but he wouldn't say a word. Currently Draco seemed to be both laughing as loudly as he could and trying to apologise with his eyes.
Hermione was most displeased. Draco insults her, pushes her to the ground and hurts her arm, makes jokes about her loud enough for loads of people to hear, shoves her whenever they passed in the corridor and then decides to turn her into a giant canary in front of the whole school! And now he was looking at her and making his eyes go all weird as he laughed and it was freaking her out. He looked like a zombie on crack. Wierdo.
Oh, he had so pissed her off.
And the worst bit was that neither Harry NOR Ron jumped to her defence at her latest addition to her insults list because currently they were too busy laughing themselves! (In their defence they were trying to be subtle and hide it, but they weren't doing a very good job).
Hermione had to do something. And she had a plan. (Not a very good one, but she didn't realise that until much, much later because mastermind-planner Harry didn't think of it, and after all it only took her 0.534 seconds to come up with.)
She had a plan. The bastard. He wasn't going to mess with her and get away with it. No sirree. Not Hermione bookworm Elizabeth Granger.
It was Potions, and Ron was musing. Muse muse muse… See? Musing happening. Right here. In Ron's oddly shaped, triangular brain. Muse muse muse. But what about? AHA!
Currently Ron was musing about Snape.
Muse muse muse.
It was the first day back at school after Christmas break, and their first Potions lesson, right after lunch. Now Hermione usually assumed that Ron's brain turned to mush after lunch, and usually she'd be right, but today was different! Oh yes. Today he was making some fantastic revelations, and they went on the lines of this.
The entire class had been waiting outside the Potions class like usual, and the door had been flung aggressively open by Scowly-Snape aka Severus The Smile Sever-er. Ha! Wasn't he a genius? But moving swiftly on. Severus the Smile Sever-er had flung open the heavy Potions door and his eyes had darted to and fro across the corridor, looking for trouble. Fortunately there had been none, as the entire school had eaten far too much at lunch that day and were feeling rather like bloated melons, even the slimmest doing a bit of penguin-waddling. So you can imagine how Ron, Harry and Hermione were feeling. Not at all comfortable. But honestly, Ron mused, it's like Scowly-Snape actually wants trouble, leaving seventh year Slytherins and Gryffindors alone together in a confined, dark space. Fighting is almost guaranteed!
Muse muse muse.
And so everyone had filed in, Gryffindors first of course. Brave enough to turn a back on the enemy, that's what! Those Slytherin's are cowards… mutter mutter. So everyone had sat down, but Scowly-Snape hung back, waiting at the back of the classroom until everyone was ready and unpacked, so he could make his billowy entrance. And like usual, everyone watched his dramatically billowing cloak.
So currently, Ron was sitting at his desk, cheek resting against his hand and staring off into space while musing about Scowly-Snape's cloak.
Muse muse muse.
Snape looked an awful lot like a vampire. If Malfoy had shoulder-length black hair he would be a mini-me-Scowly-Snape-vampire. And why did Snape always wait until everyone had settled down before making his way to the front?
SO EVERYONE CAN SEE HIS VAMPIRICAL, DRAMATICALLY BILLOWING CLOAK-SLASH-CAPE THING! Snape must charm it or something… Ron wanted to learn that charm. It was cool!
Hold on, Snape was taking points away from Gryffindor again. Ron rose in his seat and looked indignantly angry for a minute or so before settling back into his stupor.
Snape had a cloak like a vampire, the mean-ness of the Whomping Willow, a face like a… hag? No, that didn't rhyme…
Ron's head bashed against the desk as Hermione nudged him hard with her elbow. He was drooling while staring at Snape again. He had to break that habit.
Hermione however, like the good Hermione that she is, had been paying attention to Professor Snape along with the rest of the class. So far he had insulted the Gryffindors and had begun telling them about a project they were going to do in partners. By the look of things, it was going to be a big project.
Then Professor Snape had paused and appeared to be trying to swallow his own tongue.
"In the interest of… (swallow here) … house unity (swallow again), Professor Dumbledore has expressed his wishes that the partners be of separate houses." Harry, who had been looking at Hermione hopefully, was crestfallen. A smirk appeared on Snape's face as he continued.
"So I have paired you, and there will be no changing partners. Understood?" He scowled threateningly at the Gryffindors for a few moments before pulling out a list. "The partners are as follows." The class made a single, audible gulp.
"Neville Longbottom, Pansy Parkinson."
Neville looked as if he was about to cry. Hermione shot him a sympathetic look and he returned it with a feeble smile. Pansy didn't seem to hear; she was busy watching her fellow Slytherins.
Hermione frowned as she saw Professor Snape's smirk widen.
"Hermione Granger… Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle."
Hermione shot out of her chair. "No!" She breathed. She couldn't believe it! Snape's head snapped towards her.
"Granger," He said coldly, "20 points from Gryffindor for insubordination. 10 points from Gryffindor for arguing. 15 points for interrupting me. 5 points for preventing the learning of others. 20 points from Gryffindor for disrupting my class. Now sit down."
Hermione hit the stool with a thump. She was dazed as Ron patted her on the shoulder and Harry rubbed her arm, assuring her it would be alright. How could this happen? She didn't even hear the next few sets of names. She was vaguely aware of Ron being partnered with Zabini, and trying to shoot out of his chair angrily but bashed his knee hard against the desk and fell back down again. Zabini looked at him with loathing in his slanted eyes.
Snape continued on.
"Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy." That brought the whole class back to reality.
"NO!" Draco yelled, jumping up so his stool went flying behind him. The rest of the Slytherins were murmuring in protest. Harry jumped up and aimed his wand at Draco, and slowly Draco raised his wand too.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry's wand was deftly caught by Snape.
"Potter." He growled. "50 points from Gryffindor for disrupting my class. Sit down Draco."
Hermione didn't hear much after that. She took notes numbly, and left in a daze. Draco smirking happily at the Golden Trio.
Whisperings had reached Harry's ears throughout the day and scary though it was, it seemed as if they were true. In an attempt to disprove any rumours that a large majority of the Slytherins had suddenly turned gay and fallen for his dashing looks, Harry hid his (fabulous) body behind a suit of armour as a gaggle of Slytherins stalked by. Then, much to his horror, he undeniably heard a couple of them state – quite clearly – 'I love Potter', which was followed by grumbling and sniggering. Harry began to get seriously worried, he would not fall for the suggestion of him having a fanclub in the Slytherin house. He had to find Ron and Hermione. Now.
Yes – before supper.
Shock. Horror.
It was working, Draco thought. Even little Jolin Reevey had commented (in an awe-filled tone) that Draco was being particularly evil today. No Slytherin's had any worries about Draco's loyalties, and none knew that Draco had even disappeared for a while during the Christmas holidays (Pansy was avoiding everyone).
So why wasn't he happy?
Oh, he didn't know… Perhaps seeing Hermione close to tears for most of the day? He didn't like seeing her close to tears. Why not? He was evil, he should relish it! But he knew he didn't. He didn't doubt his evilness, oh no. What he did doubt was his feelings for her. Blaise was a great friend, but 1) he knew Draco far too well and 2) he was a Slytherin. In fact, he was human and therefore ought not to be trusted.
Trouble was that (apart from his own mother – to a degree), Hermione was the first person he'd really opened up to. Oh Merlin, he'd even cried in front of her – you couldn't go lower than that; but despite everything he'd done to her today she'd just taken it. She hadn't mentioned him sobbing into her t-shirt just days earlier. It was like he had obliviated everything that had happened in the Room and she was left with only a feeling of goodwill towards him.
No one had feelings of goodwill towards him.
And that kiss… (not the one where he got bitten – the other one. Duh!) Let's just say that not having to see Pansy for a few weeks couldn't even come close to making him feel nearly as good as that kiss made him feel. But then the Haron (Harry/Ron) had to come in and bugger it all up. Gits.
To put it bluntly, Draco didn't like hurting Hermione. He tried to apologise when he could, but he only got a confusion-etched face in reply to his 'sorry-looks' (yes – he'd named them.) But he had to stop thinking about 'Mione and her kiss, because otherwise he'd die by Deatheater. That thing she had told him in the Room was rubbish. Honestly, who would take in the Ice Prince for a summer? Potter? I don't think so. Draco would lose his friends, his family, his station. For what? A girl? It could just never be.
But that new resolution didn't stop Draco from feeling mildly worried when Hermione didn't show up for dinner. She would have enjoyed it. Most of the Gryffindor's appeared to think that the Slytherin's were gay and that Potter was the object of their affections. Haha. Funny that. What a coincidence. Hee hee. Ho ho. Giggle giggle. Har har. Heh heh.
Draco was fairly surprised therefore when he was walking alone from the Great Hall (it was banofee pie for desert and everyone had gone back for seconds but he had his figure to think about… not. He was allergic to bananas and had some fudge and Turkish delight stashed away in his room). Draco was therefore fairly surprised when a tanned hand grabbed him by the throat of his robes and yanked him behind a tapestry, shoving him hard against a wall. His vision blurred for a second as his dead collided with the stone but then a wand tip lit and shone directly into his face, blinding him.
Oh Merlin! He was going to die! The Deatheaters were going to kidnap him and make him pledge allegiance RIGHT NOW! He wasn't ready!
Or maybe… MAYBE they had found out about his crush and were going to kill him for it! DENY EVERYTHING DENY EVERYTHING!
"I was dead at the time."
WHAT! YOU WERE DEAD? DIPSTICK! I am ashamed.
"Eh?"
"I said… er… I was… desirous at the time of the… spell."
"What?" His ramblings had definitely caught Hermione off guard. But then she remembered why she had cornered him and had her wand pointed at him. She was mad.
Hermione shoved Draco back against the wall again and wand in hand pinned him in place with her arms.
"What," she said in a deadly whisper, leaning in close to his ear. "THE HELL" She screamed and he flinched satisfyingly. "Do you think you were pulling today?"
"Hermione?"
"Yes Draco?"
"I'm sorry."
"You're not."
"I have reasons."
"Explain."
Draco gulped. "Well… you know how I'm a Slytherin?" He had regained his vision and could see that Hermione did not look impressed. "Well I have to pretend that I don't like you." This was worse than facing Deatheaters.
Hermione stared at him for a second. She could understand that…
"So you don't hate me?"
"Never."
"Prove it." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Draco didn't reply, he just pushed his lips against hers and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. Hermione raised a hand to wallop him across the face but he felt her move and tugged it back down again, while skilfully switching their places so that she was the one up against the wall who couldn't move.
He smiled in satisfaction against her lips as he felt her begin to kiss him back and pressed this new advantage, exploring her mouth.
Well, thought Hermione. This proved it quite well.
Soon the couple broke apart, and stood staring at each other from across the secret corridor behind the tapestry.
"What are we going to do?"
"We can try and keep it secret."
Draco was torn… but he nodded anyway. To secrecy.
"Can I kiss you goodnight?" He asked, playing bashful and scuffing his shoes.
Hermione's smirk was short lived as he dived in for another, very quick kiss. Just a lingering peck, really.
"Harry," Ron flung out an arm and stopped Harry in his tracks. "Do you hear that?"
"I hear whispering."
"Let's see who it is!" Ron said excitedly as he crossed over to the tapestry and the couple were revealed in all their goodnight-kissing glory.
"Merlin's bikini!"
Bugger.
A/N
You're probably wondering where the marshmallows came in, huh? Well… they didn't! HAR HAR HAR! They were an whatsit for the fluffy goodness. Mmm… marshmallows… mmm… Draco kissing… mmm… Snape in a tutu. Heh heh heh - wait. Wrong fic.
Ah! That reminds me! I am planning another fic! Wahoo!
(Drum roll please – no, don't you dare start that up again! (violent shuffling) OI! Get back hear you bloody hmpf hmpf (sounds of more scuffling and a fist hitting a wall) oh, you're gonna get it now! Hmpf hmpf (scuffle scuffle) ah! There. Drum roll please.)
Midnight Hunting – The Prefects and Quidditch Captains – as role models for the school – have to organise an activity for the students. What could it possibly be that they pull on the poor, unsuspecting professors, that result in the teachers declaring war?
Mwa ha ha ha ha….