Well you're the real tough cookie with the long history,
Of breaking little hearts, like the one in me.
That's O.K., lets see how you do it.
Put up your dukes, lets get down to it!
Hit Me With Your Best Shot!
- Hit Me With Your Best Shot, Pat Benatar
This girl will just not leave me alone.
Rachel has been glued to my hip ever since we left the courtyard and I must say, it's really starting to get on my last nerve. All the Slytherins I've seen have snickered at me when we passed them, as well as a few students from the rest of the houses, which leads me to believe that something is clearly wrong with her. Well, besides her overall appearance anyways.
We've just arrived (Nott, Astoria, Rachel and I) at Madam Puddifoot's. I've never actually been in here before, it's not really my taste. Pansy always wanted to drag me here but I refused. Basically because all she would've wanted to do is make out and create a scene about our kissing. But I personally don't like to make a spectacle of my private life. I certainly never wanted to spend time sitting in a frivolous, pink, heart- filled tea shop, so why would I now? It's also bloody hot.
Besides that point, I'm not going to kiss Rachel, I surely hope she knows that. I trust her not to make such a scene about it if I don't; it's not exactly like I agreed to have a legitimate date. If she turns into another Pansy, I think I'll just jump off the Astronomy tower as soon as we get back to Hogwarts. It was very difficult to wound Pansy's spirit, if you know what I mean. Every time I rejected her in any way, she'd just shrug it off and bounce right back in at me. It`s called taking a hint! I don't needthat again.
"Table for 2, dears?" asks the hostess, making me suddenly aware of how utterly disgusting this place is. And very aware of the (unattractive) girl holding my hand. I know I'm being a giant ass about this whole endeavour, but her personality isn't any better than her appearance and that is saying something. At least Pansy didn't look like a troll.
"Oh, no, 4 please," Astoria says loudly, causing both Nott & Rachel to sulk. The hostess (Madge, apparently) looks at us strangely, shrugs, and then walks us to the middle of the tea shop. Lovely.
`Madge` flicks her wand and 2 tiny tables move closer together. She gives us a little heart-shaped menu as we sit down. The front is emblazoned with gold print and reads: 'Hogwarts Student Special: Dates who buy a drink each get one dessert free! (Must be under a galleon)' .
Rachel unfortunately takes a seat opposite me, so I'm forced to look at her face; unless of course I decide to direct my attention to Nott who is sitting beside her. His expression isn't much better, he looks like an awe-struck 12 year old who`s seen breasts for the first time. I mean Astoria is pretty and everything, but can't he see how uninterested she is in him?
Not a very good date, if you ask me. But I suppose I'm doing the same to Rachel, and she's still giving me the googly eyes. Sigh.
I tire of analyzing these people.
"Do you have your drink orders yet, loves?" I look up to see a fat woman with a black bun, who no doubt is Madame Puddifoot herself, gazing at us appraisingly.
"Black Coffee," I state. Not in the mood for tea. I think I'll pass out on the table if I drink it, the atmosphere is so steamy and warm.
"Oh, me too!" Rachel pipes up and I raise an eyebrow quizzically. It's not very often a 16 year old will drink coffee without copious amounts of sugar. Normally I would stuff my cup with cream, but I don't think my system can handle it at the moment. I suspect a fraud.
"I'll have the lemon-raspberry chai tea, please. With lots of sugar added if it's not too much trouble," Astoria orders.
"That tea will be nearly as sweet as you!" Nott says 'charmingly'. I roll my eyes and Astoria fake smiles, clearly creeped out.
"I suppose I'll just have breakfast tea," He says and the Madame nods and takes our little heart menus from our hands.
After she walks away, little flecks of pink fall onto the table and all four of us look up at where they came from. Tiny winged creatures are swooshing around with baskets filled with this confetti-like paper.
"Oooh, I remember these little angels from 2 years ago!" Astoria says fondly. "They were here on Valentine's Day. I guess since the Hogsmeade trip wasn't until now she brought them out for today. Must've known a lot of dates would be happening…" she ends unenthusiastically.
"Who were you here with on Valentine's Day with?" Nott chuckles a little nervously.
"Blaise Zabini," she says quietly. His face turns a putrid shade of purple, but he says nothing.
That's right isn't it? Old Blaise wanted to try dating the younger ones to see if they'd be any better than girls our age. As I recall they kissed a bit, but the relationship didn't seem to last long….well at least she's not a slut. But if all works out today (doubtful) that`s a big standard Nott is going to have to live up to. I know a handsome man when I see one, and Blaise is a handsome man. Idiotic pecker; now I have this buffoon as my wing man.
Now there's just an ensuing awkward silence. I tap my finger on the table with a hand on my chin, bored.
I look around me escaping our boring motley crew, and regret it instantly as I see who's coming in the door: Granger and Thomas, all buddy-buddy and holding hands. The little cherubs dance across their heads and practically dump their whole buckets of confetti on them.
Oh, and now they get to sit right across from us, fantastic. Wait. What is she wearing?
She's taking off her coat to reveal a lot more cleavage than I thought she could ever have grown.
Ugh. Tightness forming in the pants region.
Of course Granger has to sit right where I can see her. Fuck.
She looks bloody alluring. Look at those divine long legs. I want to touch those breasts.
My mind moves a mile a minute with different thoughts whizzing in and out that I do not want to be thinking. Brain vs. penis.
This annoys me to the extent where I want to poke my eye out with a fork. I think she looks fucking delicious, and yes, if I had one too many I'd probably hit on her. But that's all it is; it's just carnal. To think that I'd actually fall in love with her (or like her for who she is for that matter) is insane. Opposites attract they say, but enemies do not.
So maybe I should stop gawking at her.
But I really would like to stick my dick in her.
I can't though, can I? So just look at Rachel and be turned off instantly so you can resume life. I force my eyes back onto the imp sitting in front of me, and she's staring at me.
"Have youuuuu ever been here, Draco?" Rachel asks me batting her lashes, while reaching out for my hand. Gross.
"No."
"Really? Well maybe I'll have to teach you the proper protocol, then tehe!" she giggles. Even more nauseating.
"Er who did you go with?" I ask hesitantly. I'm curious to know who would think of her as a love interest.
"Roy Everclear," she says proudly.
Well that explains it. He has a lower IQ than Goyle, and looks even more like a gargoyle.
I feel a small pain thinking about Crabbe and Goyle. I guess they never were my friends, exactly. But they had my back all the time, and I do feel sad that Crabbe had to die in such a vicious manner, even if it was from his own stupidity. I feel so alone now. I haven't heard from Goyle, or Blaise or Pansy since that dire day in the fire; I suppose they`ve moved elsewhere like the rest of us have.
"Are you alright?" I feel a tap on my wrist. It's Astoria's.
"Fine," I say impassive, trying to alter my face to an expression more universal. She frowns for a moment and then continues listening to a droning Nott who's talking about 'that one time' he managed to fight off a pogrebin when he went camping with his dad in Yorkshire.
"So…do you like music?" I ask Rachel, grasping at straws.
"Of course, silly! I play the piano, like you, duhh. Didn't you see me at the auditions?" No, I didn't.
She plays the piano? Should I give her shred of respect for this, or feel troubled by the fact she plays the same thing as I?
"Who are you favourite composers?" I ask more eagerly, hoping to god she doesn't just say Beethoven and Bach like everyone else automatically says. I already spent most of the change I have on Ludwig Van's bloody opus works!
"Composers?" she pulls a face. "Ugh, I absolutely hate the stuff McGonagall is teaching us. I'd much rather play something from the Weird Sisters or Celestina Warbeck. And right now I'm soooo into darker music like the Hobgoblin's. I'm kind of a mysterious girl," she winks.
Great, so this is the only common ground we have and she ruins it by liking generic music that has all the same rhythm. Doesn't like classical music….what an, an…. Uncultured minx.
"So who do you like?" she says, chomping on the complimentary biscuits that just got plonked on the table. Mouth wide open. Disgusting. Hasn`t she heard of table manners?
"Chopin, Liszt, Schubert, Tchaikovsky, Berlioz, and I suppose The Juxtaposition's are the only band I listen to." I list distantly.
She looks at me confused, obviously having no idea who I'm talking about and I just shake my head. Worst date ever.
Madame Puddifoot arrives back with a doily filled tray and our orders. I grab my coffee and take a sip, relishing in its hotness. I like my coffee scorching hot, I don't care if it burns my tongue.
Rachel does the same keenly, but she spits it back in the mug immediately, making an 'ick' noise, and causing me to smirk. Just as I suspected.
My smirk fades however, when I look directly in front of me. That stupid Gryffindor is so close to Granger that their noses are practically touching. The look in her eyes that she's passing to him is something I've never had the privilege of receiving myself. Much more than lust, it's actual desire and liking. Their lips are parted, and then they meet, and a fire rages inside me that isn't caused by any caffeine product.
I slam the cup down on the table and cross my arms. Rachel whips around to see what caused me such anguish and then turns back receiving the wrong message from that. She pushes out her lips like a trout and leans forward clutching my shoulders across the small table.
"I do not want to kiss you, thank you very much." I say relatively harshly, but quietly, pushing her off me. Her eyes brim with tears and her mouth is quivering. Oh no.
She mumbles something like an 'excuse me' and shoves back her chair loudly, running outside the shop.
Several people around us, including old Granger, turn around to view the commotion, and then glare at me. I sigh for the millionth time and put my head in my hands.
Astoria moves her seat back and gets up hastily. "I think I'd better go see if she's alright," she says and strides with more grace from the tea shop.
Nott looks at me angrily, like I've just spoiled his date.
"Oh don't give me that look, she clearly wasn't having a good time." I spit.
He looks completely heart broken. "What are you talking about?"
"She begged me to go with Rachel today because she didn't want to be alone with you!" I hiss.
"W-why not?" Oh god, I hope he isn't going to start bawling.
"Because she is under the impression that all you want from her is sex and other things, and no, I didn't tell her that," I warn, as he looks like he's going to explode.
"Who did?!"
"I suggest you ask her!"
"Maybe I will!" he says and jumps up from his chair too. He puts on his coat and runs out the door as well. Once again our ruckus has drawn a crowd of eavesdroppers.
I sit silently for a few minutes, drinking my coffee in silence, ignoring everyone else.
But I notice now the pair across from me has ordered a chocolate mousse. She's spoon feeding Thomas some of it, and she's giggling like a love sick little girl. I think I want to vomit.
"Fuck this."
I stand up and toss 3 galleons onto the table hoping it'll cover everything, and exit the tea shop. I think I have enough time to go get the bottle of Firewhiskey I wanted before this waste of a day is over. Or maybe 3 or 4….
I wasn't sure if turning this date from friendly to really romantic was the best way to go, but I felt bad about acting so dejected, and I wanted to shake off my stupid jealousy about a certain someone.
Why did they just get up and leave anyways?
I have a lovely tall dark and handsome boy right in front of me, I shouldn't care.
"You look beautiful," he murmurs against my hand, holding it to his face.
"Just beautiful?" I tease, blushing. "My conversation isn't good. I'm not intelligent or interesting?"
"Oh, well, I already knew you were both those things. But it's not every day that I get to go out with someone with beauty that is equal to her wit."
I turn scarlet at this. He's so very charming. "Thank Lavender for that," I say and giggle.
"Lavender? Why?" he asks dreamily.
"Well, I'm not very good at dressing up you see," I laugh. "She wanted me to look as good as possible today to infuriate Ron." I realize after I say it that I made a mistake bringing him up. I'm just so warm and light-headed I wasn't thinking like the rational Hermione normally does.
He sits up straight and drops my hand back on the table, apparently not in a loving mood anymore.
"Why did you want to piss off Ron?" he asks, with a slight grimace on his face.
"Oh, no, I didn't want to at all. I just think Lavender had a hidden agenda by helping me get ready. I voiced that I was reluctant to wear these pants because I wore them on a date with Ron, who said he really, really liked them. Then she said to get over myself essentially, and that I was fooling myself to think that Ron would care about his 'favourite pants' more than the fact I spent more time getting ready for our date than I ever did for him. I think after the outcome of last year, she still has feelings for him." I finish looking down at my hands on the table, not wanting to stare at Dean.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes and grabs both my hands. "I didn't mean to get upset."
"It's fine, I just wish all of this could be over. I wish Ron could just grasp the fact that I'm not his property." I say irritated.
"If you don't mind my asking, what happened between you two anyways? He refused to tell me when I asked."
I sigh.
"He just took things too far too fast. We were barely going out for a month and he…," should I continue? "He tried to well, undress me. And I'm not against intimacy or anything…but this is someone who was my best friend for 7 years, and it was all very strange. And- yeah." I decide not to say anymore, he's looking awkward.
"Want to leave?" I ask him. "We can just go for a walk before we need to go back to Hogwarts."
"Yeah, it is quite hot in here," he notes. "Though I don't think it's just because of the heat," he winks at me, returning to normal.
I blush for the hundredth time, and start to stand up. Dean helps me put on my jacket, and we pay our bill then exit.
It's been about 20 minutes.
Dean and I have decided to take a seat on a flat rock at the beginning of the path to the Shrieking Shack. It's a bit more private but not too far, as we have to start going back in about half an hour. I'm so glad I don't have Prefect and Head Girl duties this year. It isn't that I didn't feel honoured to be chosen 2 years ago, McGonagall asked me. It takes so much pressure off of me; no more duties equals extra reading and study time!
"Thanks for a good day," I tell him, leaning my head on his shoulder.
"Hopefully next time it'll be a bit more cheerful," he laughs and puts an arm around me.
"Hopefully," I say quietly. I close my eyes, feeling at ease in the clear peaceful day when Dean cups my chin towards his face.
Then he kisses my lips gently. I smile very wide and don't take my eyes off of him.
That is until I hear an angry voice from a distance.
"What do you think you're doing! ?"
I swivel my head to see Ron charging towards us from outside The Three Broomsticks, rolling up his sleeves, Harry and Ginny behind him shouting "Ron!"
Dean jumps up and narrows his eyes.
"Dean, sit down. It's not worth it."
I know something horrible is about to take place. With one last attempt to stop this, I grab Dean's forearm but it's too late. He whips my hand away and strides confidently towards his opponent, and I emit an angry noise that he isn't listening to me.
Ron stands directly in front of Dean as he reaches him, eye to eye, scowls on both their faces.
"Don't ever kiss her again! Do you hear me? NEVER AGAIN!" Ron shouts scarily.
"She liked it, actually. And it hasn't been the first time today!" Dean retorts, clearly pissed off.
Ron turns red with rage. "I don't care if she liked it! Can't you see I love her? More than you ever could! Friends don't do that to each other!"
"When will you get it through your thick head that she doesn't want you anymore! She needs space but you keep on coming in and invading in everything she does," Dean replies pushing him in the chest; Ron has gotten too close.
Ron pushes Dean, Dean pushes Ron. Ron pushes Dean, Dean pushes Ron again.
"Stop it!" I yell, as I stand in shock that this is actually happening. "Both of you!"
Harry has tried clutching Ron by the shoulders, but being much taller than him, Ron just pushes him off. Ginny doesn't know what to do; it's her ex vs. her brother. If she says something to Ron she'll be sticking up for Dean. But if she says something to Dean, she's defending her brother and advocating his bad behaviour.
"Ron, you're being childish, just stop! Dean, you're just provoking him," Harry says, trying to sound strong, calm unable to get in his tone. "If a teacher finds out you'll both be in over your heads; come on, listen to me!"
And then I see a fist raised, Ron's, and Harry's protests are ignored as the havoc begins. Dean barely waivers as Ron hits him in the face, hooking Ron in the jaw, who falls to his knees.
A jolt shocks through my chest. I can't just sit here and let this happen, I can't see my friends get hurt like this in such a petty circumstance.
Ron plays dirty and hits Dean in the knee, who gives a pained growl, allowing Ron to get back on his feet again. Dean regains his composure and puts his hands on Ron's neck pushing him backwards, while Ron replies by doing the same.
They start punching each other and doing other uncivil things for a minutes, and I've decided I've had enough; it's time to step in. They won't dare punch a girl, especially one they're fighting for. Honestly, fighting for me. This is so melodramatic.
A small assembly of spectators has formed (some yelling 'fight', others horrified), yet no teacher is in sight. I feel very self-conscious as I walk up to them, not to mention scared, determined nonetheless.
As I get close, I wait for a second as they break contact and seize the chance when it comes to step in between them. Dean's eyes bulge in dismay as I'm facing his way; he freezes with his arms raised.
"Stop it."
"Hermione, what are you doing!" comes a voice from the crowd; it sounds like Harry.
"Don't you dare hit her or – NOOO!" Ginny's warning is too late. I feel something swift and hard knock me on the side of my head, and I fall in the cold snow on the ground. A gasp reverberates through the crowd.
The pain is agonizing, I clutch my throbbing skull with tears rolling down my cheeks. I look up hazily to see Dean with the most nasty grimace I've ever seen, teeth bared and ready to knock Ron senseless.
"REDUCTO!"
A blast of a spell swooshes just over my head and I hear a loud grunt followed by a thud. Complete silence.
I look behind me as fast as my injury lets me to see Ron on the ground, half in shock and half hurt. It seems to have hit him square in the chest.
At the same time I do, the whole crowd turns their heads behind Dean to see who stunned Ron and it's...
No.
It's Malfoy.
His wand is still pointed outwards, his expression unreadable, and he's breathing heavily. As all eyes gaze upon him, a hand jerks his shoulder backwards to spin him around to face them; an old, withered hand.
McGonagall.
Nobody can hear what they're saying, though it looks like he's getting it laid on him harshly. He stands rigid, and puts his wand in his pocket slowly. After a moment or two McGonagall looks over his shoulder and pushes him aside.
She walks briskly over to me casting a stern look in my direction.
"Shouldn't you be helping her up by now, Potter?" she spits, and my friend snaps out of an apparent daze he's been in and comes over offering his hand. I take it, still with my other palm putting pressure on my now swollen cranial area.
"Weasley, Thomas, you will follow me back to the castle and into my office, now. MALFOY!" she shouts, and everyone within earshot winces. "Kindly join us, won't you?" she orders anything but kind.
Malfoy hesitates but then slowly saunters over to the headmaster folding his arms, looking at no one, while Ron stares at him lividly.
"Potter, escort Miss Granger to the castle, to the hospital wing. And in a few minutes when she's back at her wits, bring her to me." Harry nods silently, and holds onto my arm making sure I don't fall.
"Hermione…I'm so sorry," Ron whispers quickly as McGonagall starts walking away.
"Save it!" I snap, and a sharp pain resonates through my brain. Too loud. Ron flinches, but says nothing more as he walks away in shame.
Dean looks at me unhappily, his eyes asking a question. I interpret it as are we going to be okay? I shake my head no, and he closes his eyes slowly and nods, following after Ron. No way am I going to start a relationship with somebody who can't keep his cool. Damn, we started out so good.
This is absurd.
The person who I am most interested in won't look or talk to me. His hands are shoved into his pockets, bottles of Firewhiskey poking out of them I notice, and his pale face is looking at the footprints on the ground as he too follows our teacher back to no doubt a world of punishment.