Chapter 15

Hermione felt like she had just run a marathon…and lost it by a mile. She was shaking even long after his pale white head had disappeared into the distance. She took a deep breath, and felt a residual zing of electricity shoot down her spine. Numbly, she glanced down at her slender limbs.

She used to be so sure of herself; she'd always figured that she contained a deep seated physical strength that would eventually come through when she most needed it. And yeah well, that was all horseshit. It was time to come to terms with the fact that containing a thousand spells in her head, and more, did not mean that she was battle ready. She was weak. She was good at storing away bookish knowledge, and could be classified as smart, but beyond that...she was nothing. Not a flier by any stretch of definition, good-for-nothing swimmer, deeply afraid of heights and a solid blow could surely knock her out cold.

Draco Malfoy was a jackass, but boy, did he teach her a lesson today. One forbidden touch, and her muscles had been locked still. Going by how immobile she'd stood in his grip, she'd never stand a chance in the battlefield.

She rubbed her ear with her shoulder in an attempt to dispel the phantom feel of his mouth on her skin. And anyway, what was up with that? Malfoy must have finally lost his mind. She tried to deduce a plausible motive behind this latest stunt of his, but only came up with the insanity that only Malfoy could be associated with.

Let this night be a reality check, she thought, it's nothing else and nothing more. Her subconscious was aware that somehow, a line had been crossed but in the bigger frame of things it was just a minor glitch. Something like this should never happen again. No one will be taking advantage of her physical state, never. She had to train.

But before that, she mused, she had to do something else.

Draco sighed deeply as the warm water pattered over his shoulder blades. Showers were the God's gift to mankind. Well, more like an imitation of the God's gift, but they were quick, efficient and more relaxing than any shallow, stagnant pool of water could ever be. Oh, he'd had baths alright, but those usually involved female company and a bottle of firewhisky or two.

He adjusted the magical showerhead and let the water pour down in a heavy torrent. Rolling his back, he let the warmth seep into his still aching muscles. Unbidden, an image flew into his mind. Hermione Granger, dripping wet in the moonlight. His eyes snapped open as he let the full implications of that thought sink in. This was steping into dangerous territory. Shuddering from what he fervently hoped was revulsion, he adjusted the water again and waited till it became ice cold. Thinking of spotted beavers and their many teeth, he towelled himself dry and left the claustrophobic bathroom.

Pansy was knocking at the door. He knew it was Pansy because only she would knock at this hour, with this persistence. With a flick of his wand, the door opened.

"Why can't you just give me your password, Draco? I've been knocking for hours."

"I didn't hear you."

She began to say something before she caught sight of his half-covered body.

Her lips widened into a suggestive smile as she let her gaze roll over him. He actually glanced down to confirm it. Nope. Zero. Somewhere down the line the sight of Pansy checking him out had stopped affecting him like it used to. He could see that she was turned on when he was anything but.

"Well, I came here to take you to Hogsmeade but I could change my mind.."

"No need," he turned and picked up the first white shirt he could find. "Let's go. I need to buy some things." He dropped the towel and was just reaching for a pair of boxers when he felt her touch.

She slowly came around to face him, letting her fingers trail leisurely down his arm. Her face was perfectly made up. It was not in her usual taste. Calculatedly subtle, enticing. The calculated look matched the one in her eyes and he recalled his observation from a while ago. Pansy wanted something, and she wanted it bad.

"Or maybe I could change your mind," she lilted. "The sight of you in only a shirt is so…provoking."

She let her hand trail down further…she held his eyes, as she slowly came down to her knees with a grace that only she could accomplish, colour riding high in her cheekbones.

"Pans.." He trailed off reluctantly.

"Shh."

Thirty minutes later, lying on his back and eyes closed in troubled contentment, Draco made another observation. While many might spend a lifetime trying to woo a girl they wanted, buying her gifts, making empty promises, drastic personality changes; it took damn near nothing to coerce a guy into bed. He knew what that said about him, but he found that he didn't really care.

Hermione waited outside his door till they were gone. The git had placed damn near every ward on that door but he'd conveniently neglected the Silencing charm. That was why she'd had to spend the last few minutes gagging at the sounds that she'd never thought either of them were capable of making. What did they even see in each other anyway?

She chuckled after a beat. Well, that was rather self-explanatory.

She'd woken up early this morning and made a quick trek down to Hogsmeade. After finding a quiet, dark nook just behind Dervish & Banges, she had apparated into Diagon Alley. She didn't have the directions but fortunately it wasn't hard to spot the bright and sparkling splash of colour amongst the dreary background.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was booming in business, even at eight in the morning. She'd barely set foot into the place when she was immediately accosted by George Weasley. She knew it was George because the neon yellow nametag on his magenta robe cited him as "Fred", dramatic double quotes included. He gave her a wide smile, and even before she could speak out a word of greeting, he'd planted a heavy arm around her shoulders and had begun steering her further into the shop.

"Hermione Granger finally enters the realm of ha-ha-ha. I knew you'd see the light someday."

She laughed.

"Yeah, I did. Gosh, is it always so crowded?

"Are you kidding? This is the off-peak hour."

She took in the number of kids zooming around in between the aisles and the adults dotting the place, trifling amusedly with the various items. There were, she was shocked to discover, several elderlies too but they were not the usual kind with arthritic knees and arsenic dispositions. Like every other customer, they were donning colourful clothes and eagerly sampling the products.

"Wow."

"So, 'Mione. What are you up to? Last I heard you'd made the Head Girl. I don't wanna be a buzzkill or anything, but aren't those creatures supposed to be anti-jokeshop?"

"Well, special circumstances call for the big guns."

He grinned in approval.

"Ah. Bitchy girls at school? Bothersome Ex? Tricky teachers? Or is it those inane beings that are the Slytherins? Do you know we've recently incorporated a special section intended just for them?" He pretended to look around and then whispered into her ears. "Gryffindors get an eighty percent discount."

She laughed again to mask the unexpected unease she felt. Should she just tell him? Somehow the prospect of sharing the private battle between Malfoy and herself with someone else made her uncomfortable.

"Oh I get it now!" He stated. "Ickle Ronniekins is in trouble, eh?"

"Would that bother you?"

"Hell no. Little brother's had it coming for him. Tell you what? Shop to your heart's content and you can have everything at half the price. Too creative, you get it for free!"

"No," she protested, "I'll pay for the given price. You don't have to give me special discounts."

"Not for you, silly girl. They're our tokens of affection for Ronniekins." With that he'd flitted over to another customer.

Looking back, she was rather proud of her purchases. A bottle of black tinged CurlO'Whirl, a Patented Daydream Charm, one Bolt-Upright stick-on button, a pair of Duck Strut soles, a packet of Egg flavoured Stinkballs, a stack of Weightpapers: a sheet of which weighed approximately three pounds; and several self-writing quills to top it off. All she needed now was uninterrupted access to his room.

Once she was sure the pair had finally exited the dorm, she took a deep breath.

"Alterno Fores."

A second door appeared next to the warded one. She'd had encountered the simple spell in Weasley's Textual Codex (they refused to call them books) and was surprised at how few people knew about it. There was no need to launch into the time consuming process of breaking off the wards one by one, when all you had to do was create another gate.

She took a second steadying breath before unlocking the door, and carefully stepped into the dark domain of Draco Malfoy. She was immediately assaulted by the smell of sex, and her gaze automatically zeroed in on the sexed-in bed. Well, what else had she expected anyway?

Clenching her jaw and straightening her shoulders, she hefted her bag of purchases and set it on the messy desk. She had a job to do. To hell with Malfoy and his lewd extracurricular activities, this was her final 'Go to Hell' for him. She set to work.

A self-satisfied smile spread over her lips as she examined her work twenty minutes later. The stinkballs went into his trunk full of clothes, the soles went into his expensive dragonhide shoes, the Daydream charm went into his toothpaste, pre-set to activate upon his first ingestion of carbs, naturally in the morning. The stick-on button was glued to his Firebolt and three sheets of Weightpaper were slipped into each of his books.

Malfoy was all set to have a grand day tomorrow, and several more to come, if he was foolish enough to assume that they'd all wear off so soon.

She'd saved the best for the last. The bottle of black CurlO'Whirl was poured liberally into his shampoo. She could only hope that he showered tomorrow.

She was preparing to leave his room when she caught sight of a ball of paper which seemed to have just missed the hearth. Picking it up, she smoothed it out and skimmed it over.

Huh.

It was a letter from his father informing him about his initiation at the Ministry that was to take place in December. So dear Draco wasn't going to follow into daddy's footsteps, after all. Strange…she'd always assumed that he'd always remain a pasty faced bully with no personality. It was weird to imagine him as a Ministry official. But then, it wasn't too hard either. He'd be the same bullying git, throwing tantrums and bribing others to get his rotten way.

Her heart tingled with delight as thought of the events that were going to unfold tomorrow. How long would it be till he guessed it was her doing? God, she couldn't wait.

She practically skipped out of his room, eager to meet her friends down in Hogsmeade.

Draco stepped into the long line at Three Broomsticks. It was exceptionally crowded today. He would've set someone else up with the task of getting the drinks but Pansy, in her typical supercilious fashion, had called over her girlfriends at the table and casually asked him to fetch the drinks. Once again, he could not ignore the feeling that he was a pawn in her large game plan and this was nothing but another well-designed setup. He glanced back towards their table. Pansy sat like a queen, with Daphne, Millicent and Tracey flocked around her.

Suddenly his ears prickled with the sensation of being watched. He cast a casual gaze around, inconspicuously noting the faces around him. He came to a stop as he encountered the Head Girl's face. She was sitting at the table in the far end of the pub with Potter and Weasley. He watched her for a while. She finally caught his eye. Bingo.

He let his upper lip curl into an expression of disgust, expecting her to seethe in anger. She just rolled her eyes and resumed her conversation with those imbeciles. He retrieved the drinks and made his way back to the table.

"Yeah well, any more of that and he's going to nip it in the bud." Pansy was saying.

"He should just dump the bitch and be done with it. See how she's been dressing lately? No class at all." said Tracey.

Draco cast a long and thorough look at her own attire which consisted of a stretchy low cut purple top and those muggle pants that were quite the rage among half-blood girls.

"What took you so long Draco? I was about to finish this." She'd ordered Treacle tart which, he realised now, she fully intended to feed him herself, in full view of her girlfriends. He grudgingly took the bite she offered, noting the sighs of the three females around him. Great.

He looked up and met the blank gaze of Hermione Granger. He held the eye contact, and she did not look away this time. Potter touched her arm, breaking the spell. She spoke with them for a moment and then they rose together to leave the pub. He followed her with his eyes as she walked steadily towards the exit. Pansy must have noticed his divided attention as she immediately launched into a tirade of insults about her appearance.

"Merlin, look at that atrocious hair. I won't be surprised if she's carrying a nest a hornets in that. I'm rather curious though, are all mudbloods so inferior looking? Everything from her head to her toes is ill formed and revolting."

"She's gotten rather spotty. I noticed yesterday during Binn's lecture. I was bored to tears, so I was just looking at her. And Merlin, it was so foul!" Millicent added.

He tried to recall anything out of the ordinary that he'd seen on her face yesterday, but all he could come up with was an image of a girl wringing water out of her hair.

Pansy was undoubtedly beginning to enjoy herself in the familiar territory of Granger-bashing, so he took the opportunity to look back at Granger. She'd just walked into a tall guy wearing the Ravenclaw scarf. She gave him a brilliant smile, and gestured at her friends to go on without her. They left.

He felt a tumultuous pressure build up behind his ribs as he watched the two of them stand there and talk. Before he knew what he was doing, he was excusing himself and standing up. Pansy said something but he didn't hear it.

Granger's smile faltered as she caught sight of him coming. She took the boy's arm and led him out of the door. He followed them right out.

"It's cold." Goldstein was saying. "Let's get some tea at Madam Puddifoots, what do you say?"

"That won't be necessary." He said. "Granger and I have got some things to discuss."

The Ravenclaw looked at him. It was evident that he was casually sizing him up, the fool, before he glanced uncertainly towards Granger.

She was staring hard at him. "What?"

"I don't want to say it in front of outsiders." He stressed at the word. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

Goldstein sighed.

"Well, I'll wait for you there Hermione. We'll talk later."

He gave Draco a curious sort of look, but he turned and walked away.

He stared hard after him till he disappeared from sight, keenly aware of her eyes on his face. Now that the strange turbulence had left him, he felt robbed. And foolish.

He looked down at her face and was immediately gripped by her eyes. They were the colour of honey, surrounded by dark, thick eyelashes. They were breathing fire.

"What do you want?" She cut straight to the chase.

"You wish he was Head Boy." He said, and it didn't come out as the question that he intended.

"Every day." She said flatly.

He smirked as he stepped forward, grinning when she took a hasty step backwards.

"Well…too bad he's not."

"Bloody-" She closed her eyes in exasperation. "Just what do you want?"

"Why were you staring at me back in there?"

She gave him a blank look.

"You're delusional."

"I'm also very dangerous." He pulled out his wand and twirled it between his fingers. "Why were you staring?"

She blinked, and looked away. The simple act was so uncharacteristic of her that he took another step in her direction, amazed at how she was reacting. She was hiding something.

"I was just looking," she shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. "Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

"Well, why aren't you looking now?"

"Seriously Malfoy, are you OCD or something?"

"Am I what?"

She rolled her eyes and turned away, seemingly finished with this discussion.

He pulled her by the robe and made her face him, gripping her wrists in both hands.

"What the hell is your problem?" She hissed in his face. "This is getting really old. Why don't you go back in there? Your girlfriends must be wondering where you are."

He pulled her closer still, trying to get her to look at him, but she was now determined to avoid his eyes. He looked at her closely, examining every single inch of her face but still couldn't spot a single break in the continuity of her skin. Either she'd charmed them off, or Millicent had been lying. The latter was infinitely more likely.

"Well, whatever it is, I'll find it out sooner or later."

Now, she looked at him.

"You do that. Now let go of me, people are staring. Wouldn't want them to get the wrong idea, would you?"

He actually thought about it, and the idea wasn't really as revolting as he'd expected. It might actually be fun.

Before he could do anything about it, she stomped hard at the instep of his right foot. He hissed in pain and she smiled slowly.

"Are we done here?" she asked.

He brushed some invisible lint off his robes and made an impatient motion with his hand, gesturing her to go away. She got the message and replied with a crude gesture of her own.

He hesitated before calling after her.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you." She shouted back

A/N: Well, hey there. That took really long but I'll try to be more regular. I hope you liked it.

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