Chapter 10 - Innocence Forsaken

Over the course of the next week Draco Malfoy repeatedly attempted to get even with Hermione Granger.

He'd tried to cover her face in warts, only to have his hex blocked (and reflected). He'd stumbled back to his dormitory and waited four hours for the warts to disappear.

He'd tried to charm her room to all Slytherin colors, only to find that the musical spell she had placed on his room had returned (and was now singing loud than ever).

When he'd caught himself singing the insufferable song he'd tried to turn her pumpkin juice to fire, in hopes that it would set her ridiculously bushy hair aflame, but he'd only succeeded in burning Weasley for a second, which wasonly amusing when Weasley thought he'd begun have hot flashes.

He'd tried to charm a library book to bite her, only to have Madam Pince catch him. And assign a not-so-amusing detention in which he had to dust every shelf in the library – without magic!

He'd resorted to tripping her only to find himself falling to the ground of the common room just about as fast as he'd rocketed towards the ceiling moments before.

He refused to admit defeat, though he came close in saying that Hermione Granger was just too damned aware of her surroundings.

"Have you given up yet?" Blaise Zabini asked him as he sat down for dinner in the Great Hall.

"Malfoys don't give up." Draco responded automatically, his voice monotonous. He didn't even look up to address Blaise.

Blaise laughed, "Did Lucius beat that into you?"

Draco smirked, "I don't know what goes on in your house, Zabini, but myfather doesn't beat me ."

"Clever, Draco."

Draco brandished his fork, twirling it in the air, in acknowledgement of Zabini's comment.

"So I take it you haven't gotten even with Granger yet?" Blaise asked him.

Draco feigned clueless-ness, "As much as I'd like to hex Granger, Zabini, I have no reason to do it…except that she's a dirty Mudblood."

Blaise rolled his eyes, "Honestly, Draco. Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Yes." Draco replied, seemingly uninterested.

Blaise sighed, it was evident Draco wasn't willing to answer his questions. He rose from the table and exited the Great Hall in search of Miss Hermione Granger.

Hermione had given up on going to dinner; she still hadn't adjusted to the 'new' seating arrangement. Instead she opted for a walk along the grounds, in hopes of finding at least a little peace.

She left her room after dinner had already commenced thinking this time to be ideal, for no one would see her.

She pushed her way through the entrance hall doors, and walked quickly away from Hogwarts. It was strange, Hermione thought, that she'd made her way towards the Quidditch pitch. Over the years she found that sitting in the Quidditch stands alone, while it could bequeath feelings of melancholy on one's conscious – seeing all those empty seats, being all alone – it could, at times, be comforting. For Hermione Granger it was a place to think, or to lose track of all thought.

Choosing the Quidditch pitch did have its shortcomings, of course. There was always the off-chance that someone would be there when she arrived, or show up after amidst her profound thought. That's why she chose to go during dinner; almost every student would be in the Great Hall, perhaps waiting to hear when the next Quidditch match would be. She knew from experience that the likelihood of Harry and Ron – or any of the Gryffindor team, for that matter – being at the pitch at this time was slim to none. Harry, on account of his fifth year suspension from Quidditch, had much time to think about improving his playing, and during his sixth year he had instilled a 'training program' that seemed to work rather well.

Hermione remembered Harry trying to explain the program to his Pureblooded teammates,"Well, you see," he'd said one night in the common room, "if we keep track of our calorie intake and increase it by one hundred calories and watch our carbohydrate count we can bebetter, stronger, faster She remembered how he'd laughed at his own joke, and then tried to explain the premise of the Six Million Dollar Man and his reference to it.

After Hermione had stepped in to clear it all up, Harry was bombarded with questions about cal-hoor-ees and car-blo-hi-rates, as Ron had called them.

Hermione, sitting in the Ravenclaw section of the Quidditch stands, caught herself laughing at this memory and immediately stopped herself.

She reverted to thinking, hoping, that she wouldn't run across any unsavory characters during this rather unstable moment. She told herself that no one would be down here, not while dinner was on.

And for the first time in a long while, Hermione Granger was wrong.

"Harry, I thought you didn't want to miss dinner. Your program works so well for you; Gryffindor wins now."

He laughed, "I can't believe you're complaining that I came out here to spend time with you Ginevra Weasley."

She made a face, "Well, Ron saw us leave. I don't want him writing Mum or anything...she knows all she needs to know about us. Oh Merlin, might he follow us?"

"He's just worried about you, Ginny. And I'm sure Ron can figure it all out without acting like Sherlock Holmes."

Ginny just gave him a look.

"Right, it's a Muggle thing." He smiled, "Don't worry, Ron's not dim enough to follow us out here. He'll draw the conclusions, I'm sure."

She gave him the same look she'd used moments before, "It's Ron."

"Good point. I suppose we'll have to be discreet, then." He grinned.

"You're Harry Potter, there is no such thing as discreet." She replied, simply.

"Another good point." And with those words he pulled her towards the Gryffindor changing rooms, kissing her all the while.

Hermione, sitting in the stands, had, for a moment, thought she'd been hearing things. Voices floated to her, they were faint and, at the moment, unrecognizable.

She watched as a redheaded girl walked out onto the pitch, closely followed by a boy. They didn't stray very far towards the center of the pitch, and they didn't seem to notice her; it was almost dark, after all.

It was then that she realized who they were. Harry and Ginny.

"Good point. I suppose we'll have to be discreet, then."

Hermione almost choked on her tongue.

After a moment of speaking, they disappeared, Harry pulling Ginny towards the Gryffindor changing rooms.

Up towards the castle the large doors were swinging open and a curious seventh year boy spilled out. He was walking quickly towards the Quidditch pitch and when Hermione recognized him she smiled, truly and genuinely.

Hermione watched as the boy entered the Quidditch pitch, and upon not seeing anyone, moved towards the changing rooms.

Within a few moments there was shouting, mostly the voice of an irritated Ginevra Weasley. The raised voices got louder as the three changing room occupants moved out towards the Quidditch pitch where Ginny proceeded to yell at her obviously enraged and still slightly embarrassed brother.

"Honestly, Ronald, you can be so bloody daft!"

"I'm daft? You two were the ones procreating in a public place." Hermione, while marveling at the fact that Ron properly used the word 'procreating', missed the next thirty seconds of the conversation. When she finally returned to reality she found Ron looking even more infuriated than before.

"I mean, you are supposed to be my friend, Harry. And then I find you taking advantage of my sister."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Taking advantage, Ron? Oh, c'mon. You can't honestly be thick enough to think that this hasn't been going on. Harry and I have been seeing each other for two years now."

"Well, I don't put much thought into my sister's nightly activities; it's just not something I'd like to do."

"It's common sense, Ron."

Hermione watched Harry, he was remarkably silent through the entire conversation but all that needed to be said was written all over his face. He was afraid. He was afraid of getting the hell beat out of him by the enraged seventeen year old brother of his girlfriend; he was afraid getting the hell beaten out of him by twins, and Bill and Charlie, maybe even Percy; he was afraid of Mr. Weasley; he was afraid of losing Ron; but in the end it all surmounted to the fact that he was afraid of losing the use of his reproductive organs.

Hermione had been so distracted by Harry that she'd missed the insults that Ginny and Ron had been hurling at each other.

Finally, as it looked like the argument was winding down Ron burst out, "You know, when Hermione said that you were, well…you know, I figured she was just saying it to be spiteful, I didn't think she meant it."

Hermione remembered the conversation he was talking about, "Why don't you come back to me when you have a valid argument? Until then Harry can go back to screwing your sister 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."

At this memory Hermione began hysterically laughing, that had, after all, been one of her crowning moments. But her laughing caused a ceasefire between the two angry redheads in the center of the pitch.

Author's Note - Perhaps some of you will understand why it took so long for me to update, others of you may not.

I had a bit of writer's block for this chapter. I know what I want the upcoming chapters to contain but getting there was the hard part. Now that I've got it all sorted out the story should hopefully move right along.

So, let me just apologize for the long update. But I hope it was worth it.

I would've taken longer if not for your wonderful reviews.

Thank you,
Nicole