Chapter 5 – A Proposition & Hilarity

Hermione walked back to her dormitory strangely calm. She didn't like Blaise, but had a feeling that he wouldn't say anything. That boy was quite, for lack of a better word, creepy. She swore he could read her mind. She knew she should hate him, that she should hex him with everything she had left, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to do it. She, strangely enough, had respect for the boy. She wanted to hate him; after all, he associated with the people who killed her parents, but then again she'd associated with the people who'd killed her parents as well, it really didn't matter that they weren't the same people.

Hermione now had a free half hour, as did Blaise, and she planned to use it to her advantage. Heading back towards her common room she entered, planning on heading back up to her room to read the book Blaise had so kindly borrowed for her. She'd just set her bag by the door when she was addressed. She jumped, she wasn't expecting anyone to be here, there were classes going on, after all. She turned and faced the direction of the couch only to see Malfoy smirking lazily.

"Hello, Mudblood." Hermione frowned, "What are you doing here? Don't you have some Muggle worshipping class, or something as absurd?"

"It's called Muggle Studies, Malfoy. And you'd do good to learn something about Muggles, you know that?"

"Whatever, Granger. I still don't know why you're here. Do share…"

"I wasn't feeling all that well, not as though it matters to you. And if you're trying to get me into trouble for not being in classes it's not going to work. I happen to know that you have Charms right about now, no?"

Malfoy shrugged it off, "I learned all that rubbish years ago, Granger."

"Oh, I see. And that's why you found yourself floating in midair on the first day we got here, right? Yes, I thought so."

Malfoy's grin faded, "What was that all about anyway? Did the Mudblood have a fight with Potty and Weasel on the train?"

Hermione just smiled, "I'm telling you, Malfoy. One of these days…pink hair…" she told him, laughing.

He muttered something that was incomprehensible, "Pardon me, Malfoy?"

"And lips- Never mind, Granger."

She laughed, harder. It was probably closer to a cackle now, "Too late." She began walking out, book in her arms, "I won't forget the lipstick, Malfoy, I promise."

"Stupid Mudblood." He screamed at her retreating back, "Stupid, ugly Mudblood!"

She just shook her head as she closed her door, petty insults weren't really her game.

She came out some fifteen minutes later to get something out of her bag, which she'd left by the door. Malfoy was lying back on the couch, staring at the ceiling and attempting to charm the figurine on the mantelpiece to dance, as of right now, he only had blinking eyes.

"Looks like you could've used that Charms class, eh?"

"Shut up, Mudblood."

She began to walk back to her room when he spoke, "How did you know?"

"What?"

"How did you know…about my arm…?"

"I have two things to teach you, the first being that if you want to hide that thing you don't constantly touch yourforearm in front of the Headmaster, that's just stupid." Malfoy looked almost like a scorned child. "Secondly, how could you be sure that I was sure about you have a mark, I could've been bluffing for all you know. And by asking me that question you've revealed your large, important, albeit poorly-kept, secret."

He stared at her in disbelief.

"No matter what you like to think, you're quite a transparent person."

Hermione barely made it through the next class, and couldn't wait to be back in her dormitory where she could read The Unforgivables. She decided it best to skip lunch; she'd been doing that a lot lately just to avoid the awkward seating arrangements in the Great Hall.

She entered the common room for the umpteenth time that day and seeing that Malfoy wasn't anywhere in the immediate vicinity, she took a seat on the sofa. She'd been absorbed in her book for barely five minutes when there was a knock on the door. She huffed as she stuffed the book under a pillow, careful to mark her page. Walking to the portrait hole she cursed people like her who skipped lunch. She opened the door only to find Blaise Zabini, leaning casually against the pillar next to the door, a grin plastered on his face. "Miss Granger. What a pleasure, running into you."

He kissed her hand, and she shook him off, disgusted, "You came here, you twit."

"Yes, well, I suppose I did, didn't I? Very well, then, I suppose we should get right down to it."

"Down to what, exactly?"

He voice raised several decibels in an attempt to embarrass her, "That lovely book you're reading, that you've managed to stuff under pillow over there. I believe it was called The Unfor-"

"Shut it, you git. Come in here."

He smiled triumphantly and stepped inside the common room. She moved to sit on the couch, but was stopped, "And what if Draco were to come in and find us conversing? Surely he'd throw one of his notorious tantrums about associating with Muggle-borns."

Hermione huffed; this Blaise was too much trouble.

She muttered the password to her rooms and he followed her in. "So I've noticed you and the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio have had a falling out." He said as he sat in a chair in the corner.

"Yes, well, they've betrayed my trust."

"And, how, Miss-Goody-Goody-Gryffindor, did they do that?"

She shot him a look for the name, he smiled, and said "I meant it merely as a term of endearment."

"Surely." She replied bitterly.

"Care to share, my dear?"

"Not really."

"Oh, but it'll be fun."

"I think not."

"I think you should try it, Hermione."

She looked at him, she was sure he used her name to throw her off balance, this situation only reinforced it. But Hermione couldn't help but tell him, something about him made her trust him. It probably wasn't the wisest decision she'd ever made, or maybe it was.

"My parents are dead."

She saw what she thought was true and honest sympathy in his eyes, and continued, "The Order, they…" she paused, "…they let him do it."

"Let who do what?"

She began talking rapidly, "The Order, several months ago, put my parents under protection because the Dark Lord was looking for them. Apparently he hoped that if he killed my parents it would hurt me, and hurt Potter in turn. Well, the Order recently decided that the only way to lure the Dark Lord out of hiding was to reveal the location of my parents; they removed the spell and planned to have Potter ambush him at their house. Well, the Order got word that the Dark Lord would be attacking on Sunday; the Dark Lord got smart and changed his plan to a day earlier, and…" she paused, taking a breath, the first which Blaise had seen her take since she began, "and now they're dead."

Throughout her tale Blaise couldn't help but noticed the way she referred to each person, she no longer called Harry by his first name (a fact that thrilled Blaise). And, quite interestingly, she called Voldie 'the Dark Lord', which was something only his followers called him. Maybe his work would be quicker than he expected.

Hermione was now staring at him with cold eyes, she'd shut down on him, "Now you know what you want to know, okay? So you can stop following me."

"Hermione…" she pointed toward the door. Blaise didn't move though, "I only came by here to say that if you're really interested in that stuff," he gestured to the book she'd retrieved from under the pillow on the sofa, "that I could help you learn some more. Then you could use those spells you like to draw so much…"

She looked at him with wide eyes; the proposition was quite a provoking one. She sat silently for a moment before logic took over, "Blaise, people would get suspicious if we started hanging around together. We'd need a reason, and we don't have one. So, I guess," she looked slightly regretful, "we can't."

He nodded his head. "Alright. If you change your mind…"

"I won't." She replied, but he had a feeling she would.

Blaise got up to leave, saying he'd talk to her another time, perhaps during Muggle Studies, but not Arithmancy, because 'Draco is there, you know'.

He couldn't help but thinking that she had quite a point, although he wasn't going to give up just yet. He looked out the door checking for Draco, and not seeing anything, he made a point of being quiet as he moved across the common room to the door.

Draco Malfoy, standing in the shadows near his bedroom door, allowed himself a laugh as he saw a fellow Slytherin sneak out of the Head Girl's room and out the common room door. Granger came out several seconds later and grabbed her bag, on the way to her next class. 'So Granger does put out. Now that's interesting.' he smirked as he gathered his things.

At dinner Hermione sat towards the end of the table like she had been in recent days, she noticed Harry and Ron continuously looking at her and after shooting them a glare she turned her attention elsewhere. Malfoy was looking at her amusedly from across the hall, so pushing away her dinner, she rose and exited the hall.

Blaise Zabini laughed to himself as he watched Potty and Weasel get up and practically run out of the Great Hall after her.

Harry and Ron caught up with her in small corridor just as dinner let out, "Hermione, Hermione!"

She froze, anger coursing through her. "What?"

"Can we talk?" Harry asked sheepishly.

"That's what we're doing, is it not?"

"Well, yes, but….Hermione, we're sorry." Ron told her.

"It's a little late for sorry. In fact, there was no time for sorry. You know why? Because they're dead! And you allow it to happen! I cannot believe you! You were supposed to be my best friends. I wish you'd never said sorry way back in first year, I wish you'd never saved me from that bloody troll, because then I wouldn't be in this mess at all. I hate you, both of you! I hate all of your little friends and fan clubs, too. Go to hell!"

"Why do you have to be difficult, Hermione?"

"I'm being difficult? Harry, think of it this way, Peter Pettigrew betrayed your parents by telling their location, correct?" Harry nodded, "And you hate him, correct?" Another nod, "And what exactly makes that different from what you did to me?"

"Pettigrew's reasons were selfish. Ours was for the cause." He said the last two words like they were magic, like he hoped they'd fixed everything, Her parents death was for the cause. Yes, that made it better.

"Your reasons weren't at all selfish! Wasn't this whole thing concocted to make it easier on you, Harry? And wasn't Pettigrew intent on helping his cause? Yes and yes!" She took a breath, "Why don't you come back to me when you have a valid argument? Until then Harry can go back to screwing your sister" she pointed at Ron, "and you can go back to screwing…well, no one, so you can go fuck your broom, alright? Now move the bloody hell out of my way before you become the next bouncing ferret."

She pushed through them, and in her angry rage, never noticed Blaise Zabini watching for halfway down the corridor, having heard every word and laughing hysterically.

She made her way into the common room, slamming the door behind her. Malfoy, who was laying on the couch reading jumped a good six inches as a result. Hermione, noticing this as she stormed passed called out, "Twitchy little ferret aren't you!"