I'm not very particular on how blond or blonde is supposed to be used. But in my story, I'll be using blonde for femininity.
2. It's been freaking months.:( the internship has been taking much of my time. /3 anyhow, here ya go
CHAPTER 8
"What's with him?" Harry asked as he took the seat Malfoy has previously occupied. "What did he do this time to make you cry?"
Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes with her eyes. She settled a bit from the crying. She looked down on her book and saw the damned page wet. Shit to that. She breathed heavily and shook her head in response to Harry's question. Why couldn't they just leave her alone?
"You know you can tell me anything, 'Mione. You've been a bit distant lately. Ron sent me here to ask you stuff. He knows something's going on too, you know. He cares a lot for you."
Hermione sighed heavily. She felt tired—mentally and emotionally. Thanks a bunch, Malfoy. "Harry, can we just…talk some other time? I can't do this right now."
Harry grunted. "Hermione, come on. You can talk to me. Is it Ron?" He asked. When Hermione did not respond, Harry mistook this as her answer. "He really cares," Harry said, repeating his earlier statement. "He's really taking you seriously this time. You should've seen his face when he told me you weren't going to the dance—just because you don't feel like it. He has a surprise for you on that night. So he really wanted you to come."
"It's not that, Harry. I…I can't explain it right now. I don't even have time for well, what Ron wants."
Harry gave her the face. He usually had that face when he suspected something's going on. "Is there someone else, then?" He asked quite rudely.
Hermione gave him a straight face. "No Harry. There isn't someone else." Somehow, deep inside her, she felt as if she was lying. Should she tell him about Malfoy? Wait…what? She did not have anything with that scum! So what if they shared two kisses. It didn't mean they had something together, or that he was cheating on Ron. Besides, she and Ron weren't officially together. At least for her, they weren't. Oh Gods, what was she thinking? "I'm just determined to finish the year without any distractions."
Harry looked appalled. "And Ron is?"
"No, he isn't. I'm actually thinking of ending things with him. Until maybe the year ends." Hermione conceded.
"Do you love him?" Harry asked suddenly.
"I don't know. I don't know, ok? It's just…I've got a lot going on."
"Like what, Hermione?" Harry pushed.
"Like my father being killed!" Harry froze in his seat. He wasn't supposed to know about it yet. Leave it to Hermione to explode with her pent up anger.
"What?" Harry asked in barely a whisper.
Crud. She might as well tell him the truth. Well, half of it. "He…he had an accident. Car accident."
"Oh, Hermione. Why didn't you tell us earlier? When did this happen? I'm so sorry…" Harry said sympathetically.
"Last week. It's fine, I got over it," Hermione said nonchalantly, despite the crying awhile back. She was starting to be cold-hearted. Damn. Malfoy had been very influential these days.
"Hermione…"
Hermione cut her off quite rudely. "No Harry, stop it. Before I strangle you. I really want to kill you right now, I swear." She did. She honestly did. Harry was feeling sorry for the death of her father, which he has unwittingly caused.
Ooo
Hermione walked along with Harry to the halls for dinner. Harry insisted he stay with her until dinner. And it seemed, Ron was lying when he said he had quidditch with Harry. He was, unfortunately, too scared to confront her about things, which is why he passed the job to Harry. Hermione also laid off a little on her anger with Harry. After having her talk with Harry, she realized she wasn't actually that mad at him. He was a victim, just like she was. She just needed someone to point a finger to. And at the time, she felt Harry was to blame for everything that has happened. So with her better judgment, she made peace with herself and with Harry. She also managed to push away thoughts about Malfoy from her mind. And then it came rushing back to her when he saw him walking with that bitch of a blonde named Astoria Greengrass. Besides, since when did they start hanging around together? Not that she cared.
Anyway, she fully decided to end things with Ron. She appreciated Ron's efforts, but lately he's been so clingy and it was annoying her immensely. So she thought that the perfect time to break up with Ron was at dinner, where he couldn't actually react so rash about it. Or so Hermione thought.
"Ron, we need to talk," Hermione said after consuming the food on her plate. This would have been the first night in weeks that she had a hearty appetite.
"Shure, lemme jush finish thish bit," Ron said with a mouth full of food. Guy can be sweet but sometimes he was just as disgusting as pig. After he has swallowed what it seemed like a whole arm in his mouth, he took a swig of his pumpkin juice and faced Hermione. "So, you decided to change your mind then?"
"No. Ron, I can't do this anymore."
Ron looked so innocent and ignorant at the same time. "Can't do what?"
"Us. I need to focus on more important things around me, Ron. I've got loads of problems and…I don't want to drag you down with me." Hermione felt guilty. Playing the break up scene in her head was much simpler than doing it in actual.
"You're joking. Please tell me you are," Ron begged. They seemed to be talking quietly to each other despite of the noisy students around them.
Hermione slumped her shoulders. With Ron's begging, she might just take it all back. "No. Ron. I-I can't. I'm really sorry. Maybe at the end of the year we could…maybe work it out but this—us—our relationship is not working so well for me."
"But you said you didn't want to drag me down with you…you're lying. Is there someone else?" Ron asked, raising his voice. Their spat seemed to be attracting on-lookers.
"Ron please keep it down. People are starting to notice," Hermione said, looking anywhere but his eyes.
"There is someone else, isn't there?" Ron all but shouted. Students in their table seemed to fall into silence. Hermione even felt Harry tugging at her sleeves. "You know what? Nevermind. I'm better off," promptly, he stood up and left the hall.
To her great chagrin, Hermione was left, ashamed with a crimson red shade on her face. And not far from her, was a smirking Slytherin blond.
ooo
The days passed by without Hermione noticing it. It was finally Friday, the day of the dance. The lower years still had their morning and afternoon classes, while the higher years were given the day off, to prepare for the event.
Grades for each subject were posted outside the hall. Hermione wasn't too surprised when she saw her grades. She expected lower marks, but was proven wrong, yet again. To the great chagrin of her classmates, she still had the highest mark on each subject. And surprisingly, Malfoy came in second for most of the subjects.
Speaking of the devil, he has been ignoring her, again. What right did he have to ignore her, anyway? It wasn't her who had been preaching about someone's death! She wasn't daft, though. She was well aware that he had been dropping hints on her. He did say he cared about her…so, what? Maybe he was just was just carried away. People tend to do or say things they aren't aware of when they are in the peak of their emotions. Kissing, per se.
It was merely a kiss, Hermione thought. It was just a peck…on the lips. It wasn't as if she stuck her tongue down his throat. He simply had soft, thin lips, and she was simply drawn to them. And maybe, he had been very benevolent as of late. He had actually been more of a friend than her two friends, Harry and Ron.
What was his deal, anyway? If she died in the arms of Voldemort, she knew he couldn't be happier. Maybe he'd even consider going to her funeral and spit on her casket. But with the looks of his sudden outrage, he meant good for her. He even sounded like he actually cared. And he did look offended when she called him a death eater. So, if he was ignoring her for that, then she could do the same. Damn it! She wouldn't go down without a fight. Gods, he was driving her crazy.
Ron on the other hand, has been aloof lately. Hermione understood that bit, since his pride was just as high as the Eifel tower in Paris. He had not taken her back nor begged for another chance. This was what she wanted, but she had not expected him to get over her that soon. When she stayed at the Gryffindor common rooms during her free time; Ron, Harry, and Ginny had been there. Getting the hint that she needed to talk to Ron in private, Harry and Ginny left.
Hermione patiently explained her reasons to Ron. At first, he wasn't actually listening to her. He just ignored her. But when she told him about her father's death, he seemed to have softened to her a bit. He said his apologies for her father's death, but that was it. It was frustrating for Hermione because she needed him to understand her current situation. When Fred died, she stood by Ron and understood his situation, decisions and actions. Now that she needed him to do that for her—as a friend—he could not. It was so unfair. She cried silently in front of him. Surprisingly, Ron came over to her and hugged her tightly, stroked her hair gently, and rocked her body just as gently until she stopped crying. He kissed her forehead and said: 'just give me time, Hermione'. Before she could come up with a response, he left her.
When she came down for dinner that day, she was greeted by a whopping pig named Lavender Brown.
"Oh Hermione! You won't believe who asked me to be his date for the Ball—Ron!" Came out her tears of joy.
Hermione looked over at Ron who was looking right back at her with a sour face. She hated Lavender, she did, but if Ron would be happier with that pig, then she should be happy for him as well. She forced a smile at Ron, which he returned with a tight nod.
On the day of the dance, he approached her in the library where she was reading on another edition of the History of Hogwarts. "So you're really serious about not going to this dance."
"Yeah, couldn't actually wear a pretty dress and put on some make up when my father just died, you know," Hermione replied nonchalantly.
Ron just nodded. So maybe she was making progress! Or not. Dick. "I've been sent by Headmistress to come get you. She wants you in her office, now." And then he turned around and left, just like that.
Sighing, Hermione stood up and returned the book to its proper place, and then left the library. When she arrived at the Headmistress' office, Malfoy was already sitting beside an empty chair, facing McGonagall. "Miss Granger, come in and sit." Hermione followed suit and sat beside Malfoy. She took a peek at him and saw that his face was surly. What's his problem? "Has everything been prepared for the dance?" McGonagall asked, while looking at a parchment of paper.
"Yes, Headmistress," Draco and Hermione answered in unison.
McGonagall cleared her throat and placed the paper on the table, looking at the pair through her glasses. "Very well. Hermione, have you really decided about not going to tonight's event?"
"Yes, ma'am," Hermione nodded slowly. "I'll be leaving the school at around eight thirty. I have talked to Mr. Arthur Weasley, he'll be waiting for me outside the castle so we could apparate straight to…to where my father is. I'll be back tomorrow morning at eleven o'clock. I'll be escorted by two Aurors."
"Nicely put, Miss Granger. But, you seem to have missed something about the Ball. As Heads, you and Mr. Malfoy are to take the first dance, kind of like an opening ceremony, for the event to start."
Hermione's head shot and blood drained from her face. "But Headmistress, I can't do that! I'll be leaving tonight, remember?"
"Indeed, but the Ball starts at seven. One dance won't take an hour. Once the dance is over, you immediately leave. It's imperative that you do this, Miss Granger. We have invited a few friends from the Americas and Europe. They'll be coming over to join the event."
Hermione put her head on her palms and groaned inwardly. "I can't do this, Headmistress. Can you find someone else to do the job? I can't really—"
"I'm really sorry, Hermione. Had I known that things would happen such as your father's death, I wouldn't have concurred on it. But this was already agreed upon about three months ago. I'm really sorry, Hermione. Although Ms. Greengrass', Draco's date, intentions are generous, we could not simply accept her to take your place since you and Mr. Malfoy have worked for this event."
So that was why they've been hanging out together the past days. Greengrass? Honestly? Yuck. "I have not even practiced for the dance," Hermione meekly complained. He looked over at Draco who had a hard stare at the Headmistress. Why wasn't he whining? Has he already agreed on the plan?
Minerva's face seemed to have lightened up. "That will be no problem, Hermione. There is enough time. You and Draco will be practicing the entire afternoon."
Hermione sighed in defeat. There was obviously no way she could escape this. "Ok, Headmistress."
Ooo
"Granger, if you could just at least pretend to dance with mirth, we could finish this earlier," Draco growled. They have been going over on the same routine for the tenth time that afternoon. Granger was being too much of a drama queen, and Draco's effort to actually learn the dance was already physically taxing! "And stop stepping on my foot, you bint!"
Hermione glared at him. "Oh I'm sorry, Drakie-poo. I didn't know you had such dainty toes," she lazily drawled.
Draco took her hand and pulled him to her until their bodies were touching. "Look at me," he commanded. If anything, Hermione was a bit surprised at Draco's snappiness. She felt her cheeks blush as he pulled her against his body. She kept her face hidden in her locks to hide the aforementioned blush. "Granger, look at me," Draco repeated acridly. Hermione finally raised her eyes only finding their faces dangerously close. Her eyes fell to his thin and soft lips… When she felt her cheeks burn once again, she indignantly narrowed her eyes at Draco who was glowering with her. "Put your arm on my shoulder." She heard him say.
"Malfoy—"
Draco effectively cut her off. "Just do it, Granger! My patience is wearing off, and I would not be sorry if I hit you right now!"
Empty threats, and Hermione was barely scared of him. Sighing, she placed her right hand over his shoulder and lightly placed it on the upper part of his back. She moved a step backwards to give space between their bodies. She felt his grip on her other hand loosen. She also felt her heart missed a beat when she felt his large hand on her back. She could not quite look at him; she knew she was blushing furiously. If anything, Hermione did not want Malfoy to think he was giving her jitters or any of those things.
Although, he really was…
The music played softly behind them, and this time, they seemed to have perfected the first four routines. It's amazing how functional they can work together if both were serious. And if Granger had her mouth shut, and Malfoy, without his unnecessary complaining.
Suddenly, Hermione felt Malfoy's hand move to her lower back. Their common room suddenly felt small around her, and her breath started to become erratic. She felt stinging on the ends of her fingers and toes and she just start feeling uncomfortable about what was happening. The song has not yet ended, which means the routine wasn't completed yet. She could not risk standing before an irate Malfoy, so she kept her mouth shut.
She raised her eyes once again to look into his, only noticing now that he had his eyes closed. He looked decent at that moment. Maybe, even handsome. His finger was now making little circles against her back, and she almost screamed in surprise. His eyes were still closed, but his mouth twitch into what it seemed like a smile.
Suddenly, his eyes flew open, and Hermione found herself staring intensely at them.
She felt a funny feeling at the pit of her stomach, she tried to push it down or ignore it but it wouldn't go away. She usually felt that feeling when she was with Ron, usually, when they were making out. Crud. She swallowed thickly. She did not know what would happen.
She knew they stopped moving at that moment. Malfoy's gaze was fixed on hers. As if, they were in a staring game and neither was backing down. The music also stopped playing, so why were they still in that position?
No one knew who stepped closer or who moved towards the other, but neither cared. The world around them seemed to stop when their lips crashed, and moved against each other.