So here I am, doing everything I can
Holding on to what I am, pretending I'm a superman
I'm trying to keep the ground on my feet,
It seems the world's falling down around me.
And I'm so confused about what to do,
Sometimes I want to throw it all away.
- Superman, Goldfinger
"Oh, Hermione, it'll be alright in the end, please don't be upset."
I'm trying to stop moping; I've been overemotional since Harry and Ginny started walking me back to the castle. I just hate this. I hate Ron. I am not pleased with Dean. And I'm confused about everything else.
This is why books are better than boys. They never let you down; just give you a thrilling story or knowledge. Plus, they can't hurt you.
The bump on my head is now implausibly large. Madam Pomfrey gave me a Bump-be-Gone potion a few minutes ago, and the swelling is down at least. But now I'm just sitting here whining like a little baby on Harry's shoulder while Ginny rubs my back, unsure of what to say.
"Hermione…?" Harry starts. I look up at him teary-eyed, listening. "Do you think maybe we should go see McGonagall now…? Just so you can get it over and done with. It's been near an hour."
He stares at me uneasily, hoping I don't react too badly. I swallow and clear my throat, I don't know why I'm so angry besides the fact I got conked on the head. It was just a silly fight? Right?
I just want to go to sleep and pretend this day didn't happen.
"I suppose we should." I say quietly, not revealing what I truly think. I must still be rational about this; I need to sort out at happened with McGonagall so no further trouble happens.
Harry and Ginny stand up, while I drag my feet and sulk to the Hospital Wing exit. I see Harry whisper something to his girlfriend and give her a small peck. She smiles and then goes off in the opposite direction that Harry and I are going, not before squeezing my arm lightly.
Envy fills me like a gaping wound as we walk through the empty corridors. I wish I could have what Harry and Ginny seem to have.
I wanted that with Ron
He said he was still in love with me…but what Dean said hit a note; if he loved me he'd give me space when I say I need it, wouldn't he?
"Ready?" Harry asks me, as we near the unmistakable entrance; a hippogriff with its wings fanned to keep away the public. My thoughts turn to fear.
"She didn't tell us the password," I say, with a glimmer of hope that we won't have to go up.
"Well, I've been able to guess the password before….what does McGonagall like?" Harry asks. "That'll probably be it. Dumbledore liked to use sweets."
"I don't know," I reply deflated. "But I hardly think it'll be candy. Something simple probably; something straightforward. Order? Discipline…..Transfiguration? Gryffindor?" I question laughing.
Suddenly a great lurch like an earthquake sounds, and I realize that the bird is moving upwards to form a staircase.
"Really? Gryffindor?" Harry chuckles.
We step onto the stone-like escalator and the laughter escapes me as quick as it came. My stomach is tied in knots. I'm about to enter a room with the head of my house who is also the headmaster, and 3 boys who I've all had some sort of weird relationship with.
As if sensing my fear, Harry clasps my hand and squeezes it once, and I look up at him nervously, but meaningfully.
Oh Merlin, here we go.
"So let me get this correctly: You two, grown young men, seventh years, the examples of our fine institution, were in fisticuffs over Miss Granger! ?"
"Well, er, yeah."
Good god, finally! We've been trying to get this conversation to start about three trillion times in the past half hour. They're just too stupid to tell McGonagall the truth and anytime I want to say anything she just shushes me.
We're all sitting in chairs facing McGonagall's desk. She's placed me to the right senseless Thomas, who is at the far left. To my right is a chair for Granger obviously, and beside the empty chair is Weasel.
That's going to go over well.
I'd knock him one right now if I had the chance actually; who the hell hits without paying attention? Let alone, smashes with his fist?
Even I wouldn't do that…well okay, if she was attacking me maybe, but she wasn't doing anything.
I want to kill him!
Fuck.
I think it's time to face facts; I have a thing for the stupid Mudblood. Any other year and I would be thanking Weasley for almost murdering her, but now I want to send retribution in the way of him instead.
But why? It can't just be the small change in me, the one where I suddenly am half as good as insults as I used to be, that makes her attractive; just because I've finally learned my lesson doesn't mean I'd change the way I think about her. It's not like she's ever been nice to me, she has no reason to.
Am I really that shallow to simply like her for her body? Or because I'm not 'supposed' to have her? Stupid Nott and his planting of ideas...
Okay, stop it Draco, you're just going to make your own blood boil. To distract myself I look around the office; I've never been in here actually. It's quite unnerving really, with all the portraits of past Headmaster's eavesdropping on us.
"….but I was on a date with her! She agreed to it, why did you have to ruin it?"
"Ruin? I was saving her from your stupid attacking lips!"
"'Saving her?' Oh please, you fucking hit her in the head!"
In my thoughts, they've managed to start fighting again.
"ENOUGH." McGonagall practically shouts, thank goodness. They both snap to attention.
"Enough. This is childish; I would expect this behaviour from younger children who haven't matured yet, but you boys? My Gryffindor's," she says almost glumly, and I sigh. Apparently I'm just dragon dung being a Slytherin. "Do you not think you're causing Miss Granger enough trouble by fighting over a date and a few kisses? Honestly, you're both adults; act like it. And you Mr. Malfoy," she says finally addressing me.
I sit up straighter and uncross my leg from my knee, looking at her dead in the face. "Yes?" I want to tell her what I saw. I don't want to cover any deceit for once.
I saw Dean cup her stupid chin with his 'delicate' fingers and kiss her. I saw her smile at him like a lovesick child, and then I noticed Weazelbee and his counterparts leave the Three Broomsticks.
I hate how the Potter clan have taught themselves to simply fist fight in the face of adversity, instead of duelling like real Wizards; barbaric. My arrogance actually brings back fond memories rather than cruel ones. I wish I was still eleven and ignorant, I wish I didn't have to feel. I wish I wasn't toiling over a girl I'll never have.
As McGonagall goes to open her mouth, Dean shouts "Don't ask him what happened! He's just going to give some glorified version of the truth on his side of favour!", and I scowl.
"Quiet! Do not speak while I am trying to speak, Mr. Thomas. I'd like to hear – "
KNOCK KNOCK.
All is silent.
"Professor, it's Harry. And, Hermione," is what is said from behind the closed door.
"Very well Potter, send her in and kindly exit." McGonagall says evenly, but loud.
The door creaks slowly, and then in she walks timidly, red-faced, bleary eyed, and with a sizeable bump that makes me want to curse dear Ronald silently. But I don't, because as Granger sits down, she stares at me with such a – a piercing look, my mind goes blank. I stare at her completely nonplussed and she just flushes red.
You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, and the awkwardness with a machete.
"Now Hermione," McGonagall says kindly, but firm, "we've been trying to decipher what exactly happened an hour ago and why. Would you care to share your side of the story?" The Gryffindor boys both groan, and I roll my eyes.
"I –" she begins and stops, and I knew the second she hesitated that she isn't going to say a thing. She likes both of them too much, doesn't want them in trouble. "I honestly don't know why any of it had to happen," she says quietly.
McGonagall sighs, and flicks up her hands in dismissal.
"Alright then, Malfoy, care to share your side?" I nod, ignoring everyone else.
"Well, I was – " Thomas grunts, and I narrow my eyes in his direction, and put a hand to my torso; he cowers slightly, realizing finally that if he does anything I could tell his head of house about who was behind beating me up a month ago. Revenge is sweet.
"I was walking towards The Three Broomsticks, going to get a drink in before we all had to venture back here," I say, covering my hands over my pockets where my bottles of alcohol reside. "And I see these two kissing," I point at Granger & Thomas. Weasley grunts this time, but I decide to ignore it.
"Then next thing I see, Weasley, his sister and Potter are all in a kerfuffle because Weasel is angry at old Dean here for kissing Granger, because he's 'in love with her.'"
Weasel makes a growling noise, but Granger shushes him quietly and he stops; I realize she's hanging onto my every word. Good, it's about time she finally listened to what I have to say after all these years.
"Then they both get into a fist fight for whatever reason, I don't know why, to figure out who the alpha male is I suppose; punching and kicking each other while other idiots watch. After a few minutes, Granger decides it's enough."
I'm about to continue when McGonagall says, "You will address your peers politely. It is 'Hermione', not 'Granger', Mr. Malfoy." I disregard that and continue. I've never called her by her first name, and I never will.
"She" I emphasize, not letting the teacher win, "steps in when she can, but unfortunately Weasley is too uncoordinated to keep his focus and hits her in the head with his fist."
Weasley is livid now; he's practically leapt off the seat, probably wanting to kill me.
"See how violent he is? Look at him, he wants to hit me too for telling the truth," I say mock incredulously, and the other 3 look at him while he attempts to calm down in the spotlight.
"I'm angry because you cursed me! You seemed to have left that part out of the story" he lashes back at me.
"Did I say I was finished!" I snap, lying because I actually wanted to leave that out of the discussion.
"Well why did you then?" the voice comes not from the headmaster or boys, but from Granger herself.
We all look at her, and then everyone looks at me with a questioning gaze.
"Merely, I was stopping the ruckus before further damage could be done, I am Head Boy after all, am I not?" I say, and everyone, even McGonagall are gazing at me confused. Okay, so I skipped duties today but whatever. They're staring and I know it's because it's Granger and I've hated her since birth essentially. I also hate Weasley indefinitely, and thus what would the point of me stopping him getting clobbered? At the same time, they know I love getting Gryffindors in trouble, so they can't decide what the hell is wrong with me.
"Very well…" McGonagall says finally. "I have come to a decision."
A decision?
"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Thomas, you are both to leave Miss Granger alone – period. Until she says you can speak to her, I don't want you fraternizing with her or with each other for that matter."
"WHAT?"
"How will that solve anything! ?"
Ha ha, excellent. Nobody wins.
McGonagall ignores them and continues. "You will both be under surveillance, so I will know if you step a toe out of line. I will be letting Mr. Potter know about what I said, see unlike you two, he would have not resorted to such a low idea such as fist fighting," I snort at that, but try to cover it up with cough.
She glares at me and I try to wipe the smirk off my face. "50 points will be taken from each of you," (more groans) "15 from you Mr. Malfoy."
I roll my eyes. Who gives a fuck about the House Cup anymore?
"All 3 of you will receive detention." Greaaaaat. "Mr. Malfoy, you will come to my office at 7 PM tomorrow night for yours. You two, you will serve it in my office all next week at the same time."
Only 1 day with McGonagall? Who said chivalry is dead! Ha!
"Now if you two can escort yourself out without killing each other I need to speak to Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy." She directs her attention at Thomas and Weasel, and they look at me with such scorn that I'm almost flattered. I mean, if I wasn't such a threat they'd have shrugged me off, right?
But then I realize what McGonagall just said; Granger and I look at each other confused, and then back at the teacher.
"Why does he need to be here?"
"I don't appreciate that tone Mr. Weasley, I've had enough of this foolishness, now please leave. Both of you, now."
I just give them a nice smile as they get up and leave. Before the door slams, Ginger boy swears under his breath at me, and Thomas not pleased at all. Serves him right for failing to ignoring the provoke. I look to my right and Granger looks down-trodden; she seems so sad, I somehow want to make it stop.
Wait.
Okay, what the fuck is wrong with me. Wanting to sex her up is one thing – actual emotion is another.
I've never felt like this towards anybody; and I mean anyone. I don't know what it means.
I don't hug my parents, and I certainly don't coddle them. They used to spoil me, that stopped a long time ago. After Father found out I wasn't that amazing in school, and didn't befriend dear Potter, he lost interest in giving me things. Oh sure I get money, but the Malfoy's are the richest Wizarding family in Britain, that's kind of mandatory. I must look my best at least, or Father looks bad.
"Now, you two, what I wanted to discuss was about the music project."
I never really realized until 6th year of school that all I ever tried to do was impress Father, and all he ever tried to do was look good. And I don't think either of us succeeded. Look where he is, and look at how I am emotionally.
"The music project, Professor?"
Even if dear old Dad did have a small change of heart, last year was a little too late for it. And Mother. I mean, I know she always wanted nothing to do with Dark things; but what is she supposed to do once Voldemort is a daily routine in our house?
"Yes, Miss Granger, the project. Now I originally had you paired up with Dean, but…"
I suppose Mother got Snapey to save me from death, but apparently that was a planned event anyways. So I had to go through mental terrorism all of 6th year, tried to be deceptive all year, finally succeed and then they figure from the start I'm too much of a coward to do it. And I was.
"Mr. Malfoy, what is the matter with you? Please pay attention." I flick my head upwards, putting on the appearance that I actually listen to anything she says.
"Now, as I was saying…" I sneak a glance at Granger again, pretending to pay attention, but I can't stop the thoughts of what I dreamt a few nights ago. I'm still haunted and baffled by this memory that I managed to block out.
"…so essentially, since Dean is partnering with you, Hermione, and Cho Chang was supposed to be partners with Draco, I feel it would be best if you two would switch and partner with each other."
Oh, sod it. It'll just be another mystery of my twisted – WHAT!
"Excuse me?" I ask very offensively, rightfully so.
"Us? Partners? Professor, are you serious?" she breathes.
"Oh come now, surely you can put your differences aside this one time. Miss Granger, you know very well that you are one of the only people immune to shall we say, Mister Malfoy's obscenities." Rude. "And Mr. Malfoy, surely you are quite past the rubbish of the past 7 years? You seem to have changed quite a bit from what I've noticed in the past month. Surely you've come to realize that all this blood related nonsense is exactly that; nonsense."
"Well that isn't the point really, the point is that –" I begin, but she cuts me off.
'What? What is the point? The fact of the matter is that you 2 are far beyond the others even in the advanced class. It's really that simple. Why not work with someone who matches you in proficiency? And furthermore, Cho is scared of you Draco, with good reason, I'm afraid. It would be impossible to get anything done with her. And Dean is not to be your partner Hermione, because you know what that would do to Mr. Weasley, and I do not need another juvenile fight on my hands; they need time to cool down quite frankly."
"Putting me with someone they both hate, Harry included, who I'll have to spend a lot of time with won't exactly help either," she says evenly.
McGonagall sighs. "This decision is final. I will deal with any misfortunes that come with you two being partners, although it's hardly anyone's business what you two are doing together in and outside of class,"
Granger turns bright red, and so do I. Fuck, I keep forgetting she's seen me in my birthday suit. Oh well, at least my dick is nice. Looks big compared to the rest of my sack of bones.
"I trust you to be more mature than the rest of the students at school after all you both have had to deal with," and I'm surprised that she looks at me with an almost empathic look. "but apparently Mr. Weasley has forgotten about what went on last year, and hasn't learned his lesson yet." She sighs again. "Now please leave, I have work to do; we can further this discussion in class in 3 days' time."
Suddenly she looks like a defeated old woman, with the slouched manner she sits in and I decide to leave anything I have to say to her back in my lungs.
I mean, working with Granger won't kill me, will it?
Probably will.
Fuck.
I have to work with him?
The bossy, rude, gorgeous, disgusting, Mudblood-hater?
Wait- gorgeous…..Fruedian-slip. It's a Freudian slip!
This is going to be awful. I'm bossy too. We'll never make a decision on anything, and then never accomplish anything, thus failing the assignment. No, no we won't. But then I'll have to do it all myself.
This is terrible.
Maybe I used to be 'immune to his obscenities'; but now I can't seem to stop thinking about them. I mean, when I was with Dean today, everything was lovely, I forgot all about Malfoy; but as soon as he swung at Ron…no. I'm not worth that sort of thing. It's our first date! That's ridiculous. I don't want people ruining their friendships over me, and he should've known better than to hit one of my best friends...or he used to be at least.
And I should feel mad at Malfoy too for cursing Ron. And I should hate him for everything he's done over the years, but somehow what he did today, and what he's been like this year has made me forget about everything he ever did before.
And that's not good.
This whole situation is not good.