A/N: Longest chapter yet. And lots and lots of yummy Draco for you. I poured most of my day into this chapter, so enjoy! Although, I apologize for Hermione's mental rants she goes on. My mind works in a similar way, funnily enough, so there was a bit of rambling. The vast amount of Draco should make up for it, though. ;) Oh, and more thanks for all the support is necessary! I officially have more reviews than chapters and nearly 1000 visitors! (I know that's probably not much to some of you, but I nearly pissed myself in excitement - kind of like I do every time I see I have a new review...) So, thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot (and it thickens!).
Hermione's whole body was sore the next morning. Her wrist held a dark bruise in the shape of a hand. Sitting up in bed, she rolled her head around and winced at the pain in her neck. She couldn't remember having any of this pain last night.
Unsure why, she decided not to tell anyone what happened. Logically, she knew she should go to Professor McGonagall. She could get him kicked out of Hogwarts, which was one of her revenge plans. She could also tell McGonagall about the threats to Harry and he could be protected from Malfoy. She kept telling herself that it wasn't worth the risk, that's why she wasn't telling.
Before heading to breakfast, she magically concealed the marks that he left on her. Looking in the mirror, she knew she looked jittery and nervous. She felt it, too. She still refused to let Malfoy see that he was getting to her. That he was affecting her at all. She knew that would bother him more than anything else. Staring at her reflection, she really saw how much she had changed – and Malfoy was right, it was certainly not for the better. Not really thinking about what she was doing, she dug deep into the bottom of her trunk and pulled out a tube of mascara she still had from the Yule Ball in fourth year. She felt so stupid. She hardly knew how to use the damn stuff.
She put the mascara down. What was she doing? Trying to make herself pretty? And for who? Malfoy? He had hurt her. Not just with his stupid words that now bounced right off her. He had physically hurt her. She should be pissed off at him. She should want to kill him.
Hoping that the sight of him would be enough, she started to leave for breakfast. Maybe Harry would get a chance to talk to her again. Maybe he'd even talked to Ron a bit. She knew she was hoping for a little too much, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted her friends back. She wanted her old life back, before Malfoy screwed it all up.
And still, a little voice in her head popped up to his defense. It hadn't all been him. She played quite a large part. So did Ron. This renewed her anger all over again. Why did she even want to be friends with Ron? After remembering what he said to her, she could honestly say she didn't. And she loved Harry, but if he couldn't man up and face Ron, why should she sit around and wait? She didn't need them.
Besides, she should be busy hatching more revenge plans against Malfoy. There was no way she could let him get away with he'd done to her.
She strolled out of the dorm, her mind reeling with thoughts of independence and strength. But not before pulling her hair back and quickly throwing on some mascara. Who said she couldn't look a little better while exhibiting her newfound strength and independence? It wasn't for anyone else - just for her, she lied to herself.
Hermione walked into the Great Hall, chin held high and just daring anyone to look at her the wrong way. Malfoy looked shocked to see her here, let alone looking just fine – if not better. Hermione smirked at the pissed off look on Malfoy's face. She just had to say something.
"What? Didn't get enough of this last night?" Not bothering to wait for a response, she made her way to the Gryffindor table where Harry gave her a look that clearly said "What the hell are you thinking?" Ron looked furious. Everyone else just looked incredulous. Hermione shrugged and took her new place at the end of the table, alone. Gods, that felt good. She took one more glance at Malfoy and saw him glaring a hole through her head. She smiled at him and gave him a little wave, then focused on her breakfast.
Harry appeared to have pulled off whatever he had done yesterday again with success, because the others were gone, and he was headed in her direction.
"Okay, Hermione. I'm not going to make any assumptions this time. But I have to ask…did you really –"
She cut him off. "Of course not. He just pissed me off last night at detention and I wanted to return the favor." Her conscience gave her a little tug at the half lie she told Harry, but she shrugged it off.
"Seriously? And you couldn't have done it more… I don't know... privately? How am I ever going to get Ron back on your side if you keep pulling this kind of shit?"
Anger flared up in her. "Had it occurred to you that maybe I don't give a damn what Ron thinks of me? And that maybe I'd rather not have to endure his company anymore?"
"What has he done? Has he said something to you?"
"No, Harry. Not recently. The break up just didn't go very smoothly. He said a few stupid things. You know how Ron is when he's mad." She tried to wave it off.
"What did he say?"
"Nothing of consequence. It just irritated me. More of that shit about us fucking and whatnot." She still wasn't going to give him the whole truth about that. Harry sighed.
"I should have known. I hate to ask you this, but can't you just let it go?"
"No. I won't. I'm sick of him thinking it's okay to say whatever he wants. He needs to learn to shut his mouth and keep his thoughts to himself every once in a while." This was starting to sound a little too familiar and a little too Malfoy-esque for her liking. Harry sighed resignedly, as if expecting this answer.
"You're right. I just want things to go back to the way they were. I'm sick of listening to them constantly insulting you…"
"What? Define 'them,'" Hermione demanded. Harry's face beat red.
He mumbled, "I didn't… I mean… It's not…"
"Who do you mean by 'them' Harry?" she asked more severely this time.
Harry sighed once more, knowing he wasn't going to get away with evading the question. This was Hermione, after all. "Pretty much all the Gryffindors in our year. Everyone that hangs around the common room."
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
"What do you expect, Hermione? They all thinking you're sleeping with Malfoy!"
"And so what if I was? That suddenly makes me 'undesirable number one' of the Gryffindor common room? What about all that loyalty bullshit Gryffindors are supposed to be all about?"
"He actively took part in the war on Voldemort's side. He's been a complete arsehole since first year. Everyone hates him, except himself. They practically consider you a traitor for not hating him, too."
"And you would too, huh? If I were fucking him?" Harry just looked down, unable, or unwilling, to answer. "That's really great, Harry. What a fantastic friend you are."
"Honestly, are you sleeping with him or not?"
"I'm not. I already told you. That should have been enough. You know, I thought I had my best friend back. Turns out I was wrong."
"I'm sorry…"
"Yeah, only because I'm not actually sleeping with him. I thought I could trust you to be there for me. No matter what."
"Anything but that Hermione. I just couldn't support that. But it doesn't matter, does it? Because you're not sleeping with him, right?" She could not believe he had the audacity to ask her not just once, but three times.
"It does matter, Harry. You've given me a good picture of what kind of friend you really are. Go back to kissing Ron's arse. Don't bother trying to reason with him about me. I'm done with both of you." She got up and left him there at the table alone, like he'd done to her now, too many times.
She finally thought things were looking up for her, but she was wrong.
It had only been one day, but it had felt like she'd been at Hogwarts for a lifetime. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. It was as if her whole world had been turned upside down. Her friends had become her enemies. And most of her time was spent with her biggest enemy of all. He was her potions partner, as well as her partner in crime in McGonagall's eyes. And to top it all off, nobody knew the half of went down when they were alone together. Although, they certainly seemed to think they did.
Hermione entered the potions classroom feeling slightly downtrodden. She had hated losing Harry the way she did, but as she thought before, she didn't need him. She didn't need anyone. She felt Harry's gaze upon her as she took her seat next to Malfoy.
"I see you dolled yourself up a bit for me." Hermione blushed. She had forgotten all about that.
"It wasn't for you, Malfoy. So shut up."
"A bit touchy today, are we?"
"No, I'm just fine today, thanks for caring so much. It's just that, like you, I'm sick of hearing a certain someone's voice."
"So, you've finally realized how annoying you are?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant."
"Maybe you should be a little more clear, Granger, especially about what you want. Particularly when it involves me." She could hear the smirk in his voice.
"Nothing I want involves you."
"I think last night, plus the bit of effort you've put in today shows otherwise."
"You know, not everything is about you, believe it or not."
"Oh, no? Now are you sure about that?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"So, who is it for then?" She knew he was referring to the "bit of effort" she'd put in this morning.
"We're awfully talkative today, aren't we? Have you forgotten about my 'dirty blood' or something?"
"Oh, you silly girl, we both know I could never forget about that. It's far too obvious."
"Piss off, Malfoy."
Thankfully, before Malfoy could say anymore, Professor Slughorn chose this moment to begin class. Apparently he had better things to do during their class period, because he quickly gave them their assignment and set them to work. Hermione hoped she would get a break from dealing with Malfoy while he spoke, but it didn't look like that was about to happen.
Taking the opportunity to get away from any further awkward interrogation, she got up to retrieve the ingredients, this time without incident from Pansy. She knew it was far from over, however, when she got back to the table.
"So, when are you going to admit that you did it for me?"
"I'm not. Because I didn't."
"Oh come on, quit lying. To me and to yourself."
"You are so incredibly arrogant." She began the potion herself, since he seemed far too busy to do it himself.
"And you're being evasive, which tells me that it must have been for me. If there were another reason, I'm sure you wouldn't be able to contain yourself. You probably wouldn't stop going on about it. In reality, I should be thankful."
"It's not for you!" she half yelled, exasperated. Most of the class looked at her. Slughorn was too busy fiddling around with something behind his desk. "If you really must know, I'm seeing someone, and we have a date tonight," she flat out lied.
"Oh yeah? Is this date at seven o'clock? And is it actually a detention? With me?"
He was really beginning to piss her off. Hermione found an opportunity and took it. There was a flask at the edge of his side of the table, containing a liquid she knew wasn't particularly dangerous, but it caused serious itching and irritation when it got on your skin. As she reached across the table for a stirring rod, she "accidentally" knocked the flask right into his lap. Its contents spilled across his thighs and was pooling in a certain special area.
Malfoy stood up, his chair falling over behind him. "What the fuck, you stupid mudblood? What is wrong with you? God, that fucking burns," he added quietly, through clenched teeth. Hermione had to put everything she had into containing her laughter.
In a low voice that she hoped no one else could her, she asked "How does it feel to be on the receiving end?" He glared at her. If he was surprised by her comment, it wasn't showing through his anger.
The commotion had caught Slughorn's attention, who grimaced at the sight. "Oh my, that must burn. You'll need to see Madam Pomfrey right away. She should put that right in no time. Miss Granger, would you please accompany your partner to the hospital wing? I'm not sure it'll be an easy walk for Mister Malfoy…" She heard some quiet sniggers from the Gryffindor side of the room.
"I'll take him! I really don't mind," Pansy offered from behind them, standing up.
"No, that's quite alright dear. Miss Granger wouldn't have a partner to continue working with anyway. You are excused from class. You will not receive a grade – don't worry, it won't affect your overall grade."
"Can I go now?" Malfoy asked hurriedly.
"Oh yes, please do. The longer the potion remains there the more of an effect it has…" Slughorn trailed off, with another grimace.
Malfoy walked cowboy style out of the room, eliciting more laughter from the Gryffindors. Harry gave Hermione a huge smile, but she only glared in return.
"Alright there, John Wayne?"
"Who the fuck is John Wayne?" He seemed too distracted by the burning in his pants to really let his anger shine through.
"Oh, nobody important," Hermione said, not bothering to restrain her laughter any longer. Whether it was the way he was walking, or his complete lack of muggle pop culture, she wasn't sure. Probably both.
"You are so going to fucking regret this, Mudblood."
"You know, something tells me that this is totally worth it."
"It's so damn itchy," he practically yelled in frustration.
"Careful Malfoy, you're losing your cool a little bit."
"Shut up, you stupid little twat. Get away from me."
She just laughed more, his insult not affecting her. "Wow, Malfoy! You've really broadened your insult horizons, I see. Oh, and hell no. I am not getting into any more trouble."
"Then shut your fucking mouth. Or I'll give you real trouble to worry about," he growled.
"You know, I don't think I will…" She finally had the upper hand with him. She was not about to give this up. She knew he couldn't do anything to her right now. It was the beginning of the day, and they were walking through the hall in broad daylight. Besides, he had a minor problem on his hands. Well, not exactly on his hands… "You should be happy. This is the second time we've successfully gotten out of potions," she tried to joke. He ignored her, still seething.
"You're not the only one capable of a little lighthearted revenge, you know," she said, smirking, knowing that there was nothing lighthearted about what he had done to her. Or what she had done to him, really. "You better be careful, I can be a real klutz during potions class."
He turned to face her, stopping in the middle of the hallway, and seeming to completely forget the potion splashed across the front of his pants. "If this ever happens again you'll be lucky to see the next day."
"As if you would actually go through with it." Although, she really didn't doubt him from the look in his eyes. He seemed capable of anything when that darkness took over.
"Don't doubt me, mudblood," he spat at her with more venom than she thought anyone was capable of putting into words.
Not wanting to start something in the hallway. "Have you forgotten about something?" she asked, gesturing to his pants.
"No, I just wanted to make sure I put you in your place before you went too far yet again. I'd hate to get kicked out of Hogwarts due to the death of a certain mudblood so early on in the year." With that, he turned and continued down the hall. Hermione followed suit. The rest of the trip was made in silence.
When they arrived, Hermione made to follow him through the door, but he stopped her. "You can fuck off, now."
"Fine." As Hermione began to walk away she could hear Madam Pomfrey.
"Oh dear, what happened?"
"There was an accident in Potions…"
As Hermione made her way to her dorm, she wondered why he hadn't tried convincing anyone that she'd done it on purpose. She doubted it would have been that difficult, considering their obvious hatred for one another. People were probably more apt to take her word for it, though. She shrugged the thought off, but still couldn't get Malfoy out of her head. And that darkness she kept seeing in his eyes. It truly frightened her. What had happened to him to make him lose all his boyish innocence? She no longer saw any trace of it lingering on his face.
Throughout the rest of the day, Hermione sat by herself and consciously forced herself not to think about Malfoy, who she hadn't seen at lunch or dinner. Harry, however, kept looking at her as if he wanted to talk to her. Anytime she noticed, she's purse her lips and give him a look that she hoped conveyed the message that she didn't want anything to do with him.
As time for detention drew nearer, she began to worry. Would he be there? Would he be prepared to kill her on the spot? Would his testicles still be itchy? Hermione shook her head and tried to dispel any thoughts of Malfoy's testicles that lingered in her brain.
She received an owl from Professor McGonagall that she would be meeting with Malfoy and the first years in a different classroom, and that this would be where they would meet for the remainder of the week.
She nearly sighed in relief at the mention of Malfoy in the note. At first, she was worried the note would tell her that Malfoy would not be there due to his medical condition. She mentally slapped herself for worry and relief. What was going on with her? Was it that their vengeful, hate-filled relationship was the only constant means of a social life that she had? That must have been it. She tried very hard to convince herself of this, even though she couldn't stop thinking about his breath in her face or the strength of his arm wrapped around her waist.
He wasn't a scrawny little boy anymore, as he used to be. Before the war, she probably would have been evenly matched with him physically. But now, sinewy muscle bulged under the skin of his arms whenever he tensed. And considering he was tense the majority of the time he was around Hermione, she saw it quite frequently.
Hermione grew more frustrated with herself as she tried to pry her mind away from his physical appearance. Yes, he is hot. He is damn hot. But he was still an arrogant prick. No matter how perfect his manly physique was. She eventually managed to compromise with herself and admit that was extremely physically attractive, but she was not attracted to him herself. The reasoning made sense to her, anyway, and set her mind at ease.
Before she left for detention, she glanced at herself in the mirror, which she found herself doing more often than usual today. She wondered why it was always the arsehole guys and bitchy girls who managed to look the best. Her muddy brown eyes, plain facial features and body, and disaster of a hairdo never allowed her to be much of a looker. It had never bothered her much before, but Malfoy's comments really made her realize how right he was. She had just gone from bad to worse since the war.
As she examined herself, she noted that the mascara did brighten her eyes quite a bit, and pulling her hair back made her look a bit less like a mad scientist. It wasn't much, but it was something. Besides, she wasn't willing to spend hours in front of the mirror just to be another fake girl, like the rest of them. What you see is what you got, with her, and that was one thing she could admire about herself. That and not worrying about looking like Alice Cooper in the morning were things she could appreciate about a simple beauty routine.
She laughed silently to herself as her muggle references reminded her of the "John Wayne" incident with Malfoy. It made her appreciate being a muggleborn a little more. She'd learned all the good wizarding icons and pop culture references, and she'd held onto the ones from the muggle world, as well. It made her feel like quite the well-rounded individual.
She left the dorm, once again in a positive mood, and ignored all the stares and whispers as she passed through the common room. She saw Ron, who probably had only seen her properly for the first time today, and she was momentarily confused by the surprise on his face. Then she remembered. She'd never fixed up for him. If you could call this "fixed up." The most done up she'd ever been was at the Yule Ball, and she would never do that again. Her hair had taken ages to tame, and Ginny had spent far too long on her makeup. She hardly felt like herself when she was done. She hardly looked like herself, for that matter. Although, most of the people at the ball seemed to think this was a good thing.
She met Malfoy at the door, who now looked no worse for the wear considering today's events.
"So, it was for me then…" he said, smirking at her and blocking the doorway.
"No, it still wasn't for you."
"Oh, of course, you have a date tonight. So who is this date with?"
"That's none of your business. Now, would you please move? We have a detention to get through."
"Are you wearing your uniform to your date?"
"Yes. Unlike you, not all men care solely about a woman's looks. So, how are you testicles feeling?"
He glared, but ignored her question completely. "Why bother with the rest of it then? I mean, honestly, you could at least wear a uniform that's your size." She realized he was taking a jab at her loosely fitting top, and slightly too long skirt. She personally saw no problem with it.
"There's nothing wrong with my uniform."
"Except for that you're swimming in it." She glared at him. She was about to protest further, but he whipped out his wand and cast a charm on her that made her top alarmingly tight and shortened her skirt by at least six inches. It now came to mid-thigh.
"Wow, Granger really does have tits! Not too bad a pair, either, for a mudblood," Malfoy said, smirking gleefully at his work.
"Fix it, Malfoy. And please remove your eyes from my body," she said, as she shifted uncomfortably under his stare.
"I did fix it, Granger. It's much better now. Now you're ready for your date."
"Put it back to the way it was!"
"Not until you tell me who your date's with…"
She glared at him and then shoved past him to get through the door. She was done talking to him. Once she got the first years started on their work she would either get him to fix her uniform or find a way to fix it herself. This kind of thing wasn't exactly her specialty. She was more interested in charms that actually had practical use.
The first thing that she noticed when she walked in the door was that the number of students had definitely grown. The second was that the majority of the group was now female. The third thing she noticed was that one of the remaining three boys was eyeing up her legs a touch too obviously. She threw a deadly glare in his direction that fixed that problem immediately.
The girls were all giggling and seemed to be surrounding the little girl Malfoy had helped last night. Malfoy, now behind Hermione, had caught all of their attention. Hermione wanted to laugh. "Looks like you've got a few new admirers, Malfoy."
The girls all blushed. "All right ladies and gentlemen, please get started on whatever you're having trouble with and raise your hands if you need any help."
Before either of them could take their seats, one of the girls had thrown her hand into the air. Hermione raised an eyebrow at her.
"Try it on your own at least once, sweetie. If you have trouble, then I'll send the lovely Mister Malfoy here to help you out." The girl blushed and quickly opened her book, looking very interested in what it had to say.
Malfoy smirked at her. "What can I say? I'm a magnet for them." Hermione just shook her and rolled her eyes at him.
"They're also eleven and twelve, so don't get any ideas."
"Oh, don't you worry, love, all my best ideas only involve you and this wonderful new uniform you got." He reached a hand out, tucking a lock of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear. Hermione nearly flinched when his hand came toward her face, but maintained her calm facade. She was lost for words and just stared at him. She was about to ask him what the fuck he was doing, when she saw him glance over at the girls with a smirk on his face. They were all glaring daggers at Hermione, clearly jealous.
"Careful, Malfoy, don't make your new fan club too jealous," she said, pulling away from him slightly. His new behavior clearly had two motives: making the girls hate her, and making her extremely uncomfortable.
"It's not my fault your arse looks wonderful in that new skirt of yours." Hermione's jaw dropped a little, as had half of the little girls'. She looked at him as if he were deranged. He had definitely succeeded in making her uncomfortable. Now it was her turn.
Putting on the sweetest expression she could she said, "Oh thank you, Draco, I was hoping you would notice," and threw her arms around his shoulders. She felt him tense up and smiled to herself. His turn to feel uncomfortable. He was obviously much better at this game than she was, though, because he pulled away slightly, giving her an adoring look.
"Save it for later, love. Don't want to get too carried away like you do in front of the kiddies." Hermione snorted.
After a few minutes of silence, one of the boys raised his hand for help. Hermione looked to Draco, who gave her quite an obvious "I'm not moving" look, so she got up to help him.
"Yes?"
"I'm writing an essay for potions class, and I can't find what a bezoar is supposed to do in my book anywhere." Forgetting about her "new skirt" as Malfoy had referred to it, she squatted down, thankfully with her legs closed, next to the boy;s desk to look at his text.
"If you refer to the index, here, you should be able to find it. But, basically, a bezoar is kind of a solution to everything. It remedies a lot of various poisons. You can find it in the belly of a goat." She said all this as she found 'bezoar' in the index and flipped to the proper page. "Ah, here it is. I hope that helps," she said, with a polite smile and went back to her seat next to Malfoy. Although, she noticed a few more eyes on her this time. The two other boys were staring at her as if she had tentacles sprouting from her head. And not only were the boys gawking, but Malfoy was too, but he had his signature smirk on his face.
She sat down and glared at him questioningly.
"So, red knickers, eh?" he asked, leaning close and speaking quietly. Hermione blushed furiously.
"What? How -?"
"Got quite the view from here. Can't imagine what those little boys got to see. Must have been quite the show. Probably pitched a few tents if you get what I mean," still speaking under his breath.
"You're repulsive!" she whispered, now yanking at the hem of her skirt. "I forgot all about this fucking skirt. Ugh."
"Well, at least we know what the talk of the first year boys will be tomorrow," he said, with a wink.
"I hate you."
The boys had raised their hands a couple more times over the rest of the hour, but gave up when she kept sending Malfoy. She was not moving from her seat until they were all gone. She could not understand how Malfoy always knew exactly what to do to humiliate her. She was extremely surprised that he complied when she demanded that he do all the helping. The girls had raised their hands a couple more times, too, which Malfoy also went for, but he dismissed them almost immediately both times, telling them that they had stupid questions. She almost felt bad for the poor girls. She would have, anyway, if she thought they actually needed help and weren't just coming up with whatever question they could think of to get Malfoy's attention.
The hour finally ended and the students left – most of them rushing out due to various degrees of embarrassment. When the room was empty, Hermione made sure she had a firm grip on her wand and turned to Malfoy.
"Fix my damn uniform, now."
"Not a chance," he said, eyeing her up and down. "You should appreciate it. Your date might actually be interested in what you have to say now. If he exists, that is. And something's telling me that he doesn't."
Hermione refused to ask him nicely, so she once again demanded him to fix it.
"Now, what makes you think you're going to get your way with that tone of voice? You know, I was going to extend our little detention tonight to further your punishment, but I think I've done quite enough. For tonight, that is. Especially considering tomorrow your red lacey, thong will be all the rage of the first year gossip, tomorrow. Maybe it'll go even farther than the first years. I can only hope."
"It's not a thong!" Hermione protested, loudly.
"Oh, but by tomorrow, it will be. Everyone will be thrilled to hear their little mudblood war heroine wears sexy underwear! Wait… I notice you don't deny the lace…" He raised an eyebrow at her.
"I…. It's…" She was stammering. She couldn't deny it. A couple weeks ago, when she and Ron were still together and at the Burrow, he had secretly replaced her entire bra and underwear supply with his idea of 'sexy lingerie.' She wanted to complain, but she had actually hoped it might give their sex life a little more spark.
"Huh." That was all he said, as he smirked at her one last time, and walked out the door.
He had left her to walk the halls this way. Giving herself a moment to collect herself, she tried yanking the hem of the skirt down a little more, but to no avail. It was by far the shortest skirt she had ever worn in her life. Giving up, she threw on her best look of confidence and stepped out of the room.
Thankfully, since it was quite late in the evening, the halls were nearly empty, but as she came upon the portrait of the Fat Lady, she realized this was the part she was really dreading. Even the woman in the painting raised an eyebrow at her. Hermione chose to ignore it before she lost her nerve and slept in the hall.
Keeping her chin held high, she entered the common room. And if she thought Ron had looked surprised before, she wasn't even sure what to call the look on his face now. Nor that of anyone else that was sitting in the common room. Harry wasn't there, thank the gods. He was probably alone with Ginny in her own room that Hermione was absolutely aching for.
All Hermione could do at this point was laugh. Ron, who was sitting close to Lavender Brown with his arm wrapped around her, couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. Lavender looked beyond pissed off and about ready to slap the redhead next to her. Being the opportunist that she was, Hermione just had to say something.
"Ron, hun, you should probably wipe that drool off your chin." With that, Hermione strode to the stairwell leading to the girls' dormitory, giving her hips a little more sway than she normally would. It was surprisingly empowering, to hold a man's attention that way. No wonder girls dressed like slags so often, she thought to herself.
As she slowly made her way up the stairs, she could hear Lavender loudly complaining about what a skank she was. Hermione just laughed, thinking she might have to thank Malfoy for this later…