I don't have an A/N. Making an A/N about not having an A/N amuses me.
"Since when have you become such a coward?" Draco asked Hermione, apparently abandoning all niceties.
But then again, Hermione didn't suppose he had cornered her here at the back of the library to be nice.
"I'm just looking for something to read!" she replied. She didn't particularly care if he believed her or not; she just wanted to make it clear that she didn't want to talk to him.
She moved to walk around him, but he stepped to the side, blocking her path. "You're being ridiculous, Granger," he informed her with a frown. "Nothing happened."
Right. Getting half-naked while snogging was nothing. Maybe to him it was. "Good. Then there's nothing to talk about."
"I don't like your attitude."
She gaped. He didn't like her attitude? Her eyes narrowed. "That's a pity for you, Malfoy."
Suddenly, she found her back pressed against a bookcase, the edges of the shelves and the spines of several hefty volumes hurting her just enough to be uncomfortable. She blinked and then frowned, struggling to push away without actually touching him too much. The damn git had a pretty good hold on her upper arms, though.
She considered going for her wand and casting a nasty hex on him.
"Stop it!" he hissed. "Just… stop it! I'm tired of this. I'm tired of almost getting what I want and then having to stop because of you. And I'm tired of you never acknowledging that I do stop. I'm tired of having to toss off, knowing that I could have had the real thing. Next time you come to my room, I'm not stopping, all right? Next time you come to my room… we'll both know what you're there for."
Hermione felt her cheeks heat in anger, indignation and just a little bit embarrassment at what he was saying. "Why would I go there again?" she asked. She almost added something about how he'd never been able to deliver before, but decided that it sounded too much like an invitation and bit her tongue instead.
"Because you can't seem to stay away, can you?" he asked in a low voice.
The conceited git.
"So, basically, if I should ever come to your room again for any reason, you're going to rape me?" she asked, deliberately provoking him.
Anger flared in his eyes. "I'm sick of you accusing me of that too," he bit out.
He moved closer to her, lowering his head so she could feel his breath on her neck. She cursed every deity known to man when her pulse—through no volition of her own—noticably sped up. She was just nervous, that was all.
She could feel him smirk, probably misinterpreting her rapid heartbeat like she'd known he would. Git. "It wouldn't be rape," he murmured.
On some level, she was afraid that he was right. Her body did seem to have a mind of its own around him lately. Damn all those teenage hormones. "It is as long as one says no…" she pointed out, just to argue with him.
"I'd have you screaming yes," he purred. "I'd have you feeling so good that you'd never want to leave my bed again. How many goes do you think we could have in one night before passing out? I always wondered…"
She had to get out of there. Now. Fumbling just a little bit, she got a hold of her wand. "If you do not let me go this instant, I'll have you screaming!" She jabbed at him rather ineffectively, considering the hold he had on her arms.
He looked down to see where her wand was pointed and then grinned of all things. "Damn," he muttered, sounding wondering rather than angry.
"I am not kidding."
"I know," he replied, finally letting go of her. "But neither was I. Come down to my room again and I really won't answer for the consequences."
Draco remained standing long after the bane of his existence had fled. That encounter, making sure she'd stay away from him, really shouldn't have turned him on like that. He'd been so intoxicated by having her so close that he'd almost forgotten the purpose of it all.
To issue an invitation that would definitely repel her.
It hadn't gone quite as planned. Sure, she'd been repelled, but rather than implying they could rut like animals, he had begun talking about the pleasure he wanted to give her. His fantasies. The thought of that making her run off wasn't exactly pleasant. Especially when he felt anything but disgusted himself.
Damn this incessant want. He didn't want to want her. And even if it was true that he was… having other feelings as well, he didn't want that either. That was what Blaise didn't understand: Draco did not want any of this and would give anything for it to just go away. He would give anything to be at peace again, to not care about someone who didn't care about him, to not worry about any ramifications of this want.
And, damn him, but in spite of his own reluctance, he just kept feeling like it would be easier if she weren't so easy to repel.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and was making his way out when he noticed Astoria at a table, studying with a couple of other fifth years. He stopped and watched her for a few minutes. It really was too bad he didn't have more than friendly feelings for her. She would go for the pureblood heritance bit. Unfortunately, he wanted a little bit more than that.
Making a decision, he walked up to her. "Have a minute?"
She raised an eyebrow at him, but followed him to the relative privacy behind a few bookcases.
"Good thinking, Malfoy!" she murmured when they were out of earshot. "Going off to snog here would seem likely, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah…" he frowned. "I need you to break up with me."
For a moment she didn't reply, but then she quietly said, "What?"
"You said that when the time came, you'd break up with me. I think that would be now."
"But it's only been a few weeks!" she objected. "I could use a little longer to—"
"This isn't working for me," he interrupted, studying the nearest bookshelf. "This… this thing isn't doing what I want it to. I have no reason to go on and you got what you wanted. So you're breaking it off now."
When a few seconds went by without a response from her, he turned back to look at her and was slightly taken aback by the look on her face. It seemed oddly frozen. And her eyes… what—? He frowned.
"Ok…" she said in a bit of a rush, looking away as he began scrutinizing her. "I think you're being hasty, but ok. It's not working. Fine. Can't help that, now, can we?"
"Astoria…"
"So! How do you want me to do this? Just tell people it's over or want me to make a scene?" She was fidgeting with her hands and visibly avoiding his eyes.
"However you want. Look…"
"Ok!"
She tried to brush past him, but he grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing."
He very lightly shook his head. "Don't give me that."
She pulled free and angrily turned on him. "Then don't be such a goddam idiot!"
That blindsided him. Now it was his time to try to find something to say but only ending up with "What?"
She took a deep breath. "Never mind."
On one hand he was feeling frustrated that she wouldn't tell him, but on the other hand… he already sort of knew. The look in her eyes. The hurt she was trying to hide.
This farce had been real to her.
It had not been what he had signed up for. She had tricked him. He was the real victim here!
… But she was the one looking the way he felt much of the time.
Shit.
"I honestly had no idea," he muttered.
"Of course you didn't. You never do seem to get your head out of your arse long enough to notice the people around you, do you?"
He swallowed. It seemed like he just couldn't stop being a git no matter what he did. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." She tossed back her hair. "It's not your pity I want."
He didn't know what to respond to that. This was horribly awkward.
"Besides," she added, "I just lost the battle. Not the war."
And with that she walked off, leaving him to figure out what she meant by that.
He was very afraid that he knew.
"Who is it?"
"Let it go, Harry," Ron groaned.
"Ok, you don't have to tell me."
Ron sighed with relief. "Thanks, mate."
"But if you were my friend, you would." Harry was obviously having a Slytherin moment.
Ron gaped in astonishment. "I— You— Bloody— That's not—" he sputtered.
"And if you were his friend, you'd respect his need for privacy," Hermione butted in as she was sitting down to join in on their breakfast. "Sorry about this, Ron."
"You should be," he grumbled. "But thanks. What she said!" The last bit was directed at Harry.
Harry pouted. "But why can't I know who you have a crush on? It's not Millicent Bulstrode, is it?"
Ron just stared.
"Oh, isn't that just shallow of both of you!" Hermione said, feeling rather miffed. "Just because she's a bit on the heavy side—"
"Hey, didn't see you having a go at Crabbe while you were making your way through the Slytherin boys!" Ron objected.
Hermione scowled back. "I'm on your side, you know."
"Oh, right," he muttered. "But still."
"Please tell me who it is?" Harry tried again.
Both Ron and Hermione glared at him.
"All right," he muttered. "If you're both going to be so mean about it, I'd better go see to my own affairs." With a meaningful look, he got up, snatched a bun, and left.
"Did he mean—?" Hermione scouted the table for the youngest Weasley, and then raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah." Ron shrugged. "It finally got through his thick skull that he'd better somehow sort things out with Ginny or we'd all be mad at him forever. Besides, he loves her really. He just didn't like to be told she'd been with someone he disliked so much. I think."
Hermione rather graciously ignored any mentions of thick skulls, but otherwise tended to agree. Harry was just being a boy about things. "So, what's the deal with you and—?"
"There is no deal."
"You don't have to lie to me."
He scowled. "No… there really is no deal. How did you know anything anyway?"
Hermione sniffed. "Oh, please. It wasn't hard to figure out for anyone that knew you and had eyes in their head."
"Yeah? Then how come it took you so long to figure out that I fancied you?"
Hermione's cheeks flushed a deep red. She really didn't like being called on these things. "I knew. I just waited for you to acknowledge it."
"Maybe at first, but when I did acknowledge it, you seemed to want to avoid mentions of it."
She had avoided it because she had spent the last three years feeling guilty about going too far with Victor Krum at the Yule Ball in fourth year. She didn't want to bring that up again, though. Ron had already learned that she had been with someone else when Malfoy had tried to ruin her friendships and she had been wearing the bracelet. He didn't need the reminder now. "You're changing the subject," she pointed out. "We were talking about your current crush!"
"Who says I'm limited to one?" he asked. But when she just frowned at him, he relented. "She won't even look at me twice, so it's really nothing."
Hermione frowned. "Really?"
Ron shrugged. "I'm not the most fancy or the most suave of people. Nothing at all like that sod of an ex of hers. I guess I just really know how to pick girls that are out of my league."
"Stop it!" Hermione said rather sharply. "There are no leagues. It's just not always meant to be. Now, are you sure…"
"Tried to talk to her. She completely snubbed me. Made fun of me in front of her friends. Yeah, I'm sure."
"That was rather rude of her, wasn't it?" Hermione asked, wrinkling her nose.
He shrugged again. "Was rather expecting it, actually. She does stuff like that, but I expect it's to keep up some sort of appearance. When she's alone and thinks nobody's watching, she looks sort of sad…"
"Oh, my," Hermione breathed. He'd really been watching the girl, hadn't he? Of course, she'd picked up on a few of those looks, but not enough to realize just how bad he had it.
"Yeah," Ron muttered. "I reckon she's still in love with the bastard. I don't see why. Dumping her like that…"
"You know that it doesn't always make sense who you like."
Ron shook his head. "I would never treat a girl like that, yet you all seem to gravitate towards him. It's not fair."
"I'm not—"
Ron's glare silenced her.
"Don't think me a greater fool that I am," he quietly said, and then he got up and left too.
Hermione found herself speechless.
It probably wasn't required. In fact, Hermione was fairly certain it wasn't. But finding herself feeling a bit uncomfortable holding on to Theo's necklace, she decided to give it back to him.
It had been his mother's. She was certain there would be another girl he'd rather give it to later.
Yet, she was still feeling raw and really wasn't up to facing Theo yet, so she opted to just put it on his desk. He would find it and he would understand and they wouldn't have to talk about it.
Everyone would win.
She was just sifting through some scrolls of parchment on her desk when Theo entered, half an hour early according to when she'd thought he'd be here.
Ok, awkward, but she'd just pretend he wasn't there and then leave the room as soon as she could without looking like she was running away. Yes, good plan.
He went over to his desk and then froze in his tracks for a solid minute. Just staring.
"I'm sorry," he suddenly said, making Hermione jump.
"W-what?"
"I shouldn't have… done it… like that. I'm sorry." He looked over at her. "I lost my head."
Theo losing his head? Wasn't that an oxymoron? "It's ok," she muttered. No, it really wasn't, but she couldn't say that without getting into this whole discussion that she didn't want to get into.
"You don't know how difficult some of this has been for me," he continued.
No, she really didn't, because he never shared his thoughts and feelings when it mattered.
She didn't reply.
"To want something and to watch it slip away…" his voice was almost a whisper.
"Well, you gave it the last push," Hermione rather bluntly reminded him, unable to listen to any more of this. "Did you have a point?"
He sighed. "This is yours." He scooped up the necklace and went over and dropped it down in front of her. "I don't want it back."
She pushed it back towards him. "I don't want it either."
The shove with which he returned it was so violent that Hermione jumped again.
"I don't care if you never wear it again," he hissed. "But it was a gift. I even told you why I wanted you to have it. You accepted at the time. Throw it away if you can't stand the reminder, but don't bother me with it ever again!" Then he abruptly left without doing any of the work he'd probably come here to do in the first place.
Hermione stared after him in shock long after he was gone.
Hermione scowled and picked up the robes to put them away. "That's none of your business. Why are you here?"
"Because McGonagall wants me to die." He handed her the note.
"Oh, ok." She took the note from him.
"You're not even going to ask why she wants me to die?" he complained, sitting down in her only chair.
She shrugged. "Not really. It's a common enough reaction." She patted his shoulder.
