If it's good to complicate then both of us are doing fine.
Just keep your eyes on your part and leave me alone to mine.
If it's good to instigate, we're a fast horse, bet on us.
I'm not calling you an animal; I think we just fight too much.
Hey now, in spite of this we're doing just fine
Even diamonds start as coal.
- Diamonds and Coal, Incubus
"So," says Harry, putting the letter from McGonagall down, "I have to 'keep watch' over you from your 'admirers'."
He looks at me from across the Great Hall table, and raises his eyebrows, a hint of a humour glimmering in his green eyes.
I exhale and groan, hitting a hand to my forehead. "Honestly, this is most frustrating thing. Why can't Ron just get along? Why can't he just accept that we don't work together and let me be a free agent?"
"Well, you don't really know that, do you?" Harry remarks unexpectedly, a question etched in his expression.
"W-what do you mean?" I reply unnerved.
"You broke up with Ron after he uh, tried to take your relationship further than you wanted, yes? But honestly, he felt like a right git after that. He said it was the biggest mistake he'd ever made, but he was just so smitten with you he couldn't help it. I mean, you know how it is with boys, don't you?" No, I don't.
"Well why didn't he just tell me that, instead of getting angry!" I cry. "He was so offended when I pushed him away, we'd only been dating for a month! Then he never wrote me when I left. I've never had a real relationship before, Harry, I don't know what I was doing," I gripe. Then I lower my voice, "I mean….do you have sex with someone after a few weeks of dating?" I look around, hoping nobody heard me.
Harry turns bright red. "Uhm, ahm, well I don't know. Depends on if you're ready I suppose." He says, and I stifle a laugh; he looks so awkward and adorable.
"He should've known I wasn't. I mean, the only other boy I've been interested in was Viktor, and we only kissed and exchanged letters. Oh god, I hate being so clueless," I cry, and smash my head against the table.
"Hermione?" Harry says, worried. "It's okay. This will work out. I mean, Ron messed up big time, and even if you felt like you weren't ready he should have respected that and left you alone, but you know how he is. He`ll get over it, but he's going to be a baby for a few weeks. And anyways, now that Dean can't talk to you too, I'm sure he'll be able to recover easier."
"I suppose. I really wish we could've had what you and Ginny have," I sigh. Harry looks taken aback. "Oh come on, you two are perfect for each other even if you do fight occasionally."
Harry turns an even deeper scarlet but smiles. "I suppose you're right."
"It would be a lot better than this mess. I don't know, Harry. I mean, I just thought our conversations as a couple, you know, away from everyone else, would be engrossing. Like they are with Viktor," I think back to 4 years ago to the days leading up to the Yule Ball, and our letters. "But Ron is actually much the same around me alone as he is normally. Which is endearing and everything, but I don't feel special. I don't feel as if anything's changed except that we kiss and hold hands and aren't at each other's throats because neither of us admitted we liked each other."
Harry looks at me thoughtfully. "In other words, you felt too comfortable?"
"Yes, that's totally it! I never thought about it like that until you said it aloud, but that is what it was! Too familiar." I murmur.
"Other than that are you alright? You really seem put out," Harry asks and I cringe.
I am not telling him about Malfoy, oh definitely not. I resolved it 2 days ago when McGonagall told me; I am going to plead to Dean (I know it breaks the rules we were given, but to be honest I'm less cross at him than a certain ginger boy) and Seamus to not tell him or Ron, who'd probably kill Malfoy on sight if he found out.
This is horrid: the whole project is ruined for me now. Malfoy and I? Together? There's too much history and awkward tension this year for us to get along.
"Hermione?"
OH MY GOD. Spring break is only a couple weeks away! We're going to have to work on it over it which means…he's going to have to come to my house.
My house.
My entire family is coming over for Easter dinner this year. I haven't seen them in a very long time. I'm not staying in Hogwarts just to suffer through a project. And I am most certainly not going to his home. Not after what happened in it last year…
- "FILTHY LITTLE MUDBLOOD!" -
I shake my head and cringe, Harry gazing at me intently, concerned.
"Hermione…?"
"Sorry, sorry, yes I'm fine." He raises his eyebrows again, and throws his hands up in defeat.
"Whatever you say. In any case, I'll keep away your lovers until you're ready to face them," Harry smirks playfully. I give a weak smile in return.
Speaking of lovers…I see Ron bustling towards us from the Great hall entrance, and my back stiffens in discomfort. Oh god, what does he want? He looks surprisingly…cheerful. Overly so in fact.
"Hi Harry, 'Mione," he says in that brusque voice of his. "Food good for lunch today?" he asks sitting down next to me. I look at him puzzled, and Harry looks at me with an unbelieving look.
"Ron, what are you doing?" Harry inquires quietly.
"Eating lunch, of course, what do you mean -?" he looks around at me and he clues in finally, frowning now. "Hermione, what's wrong?"
"Um, well." I whisper.
"You aren't technically allowed to be hanging around her, Ron. Here look," Harry shoves the paper at him and I inwardly groan; that was a mistake.
Ron scans it and laughs hollow, "What, you can't be serious? Are you actually expecting me, your best friend, to not hang around with you? "
He looks from me to Harry, and back to me again. His smile of disbelief when I don't reply fades to a scowl.
"Hermione?"
"Well…I mean, I wouldn't let Dean hang around me when he isn't supposed to, so it wouldn't be fair for me to let you." I respond quietly.
"This isn't fair to me, either! If Harry is supposed to be 'watching you', how am I supposed to see him? He's my best friend too!"
He's really angry.
"It's your fault Ron, you can't get mad when you overreacted, and it isn't like I'm going to just be around Hermione all the time, honestly." Harry's getting irritated too apparently.
"Overreacted? You're joking! One of my 'supposed' friends tries to snatch my ex-girlfriend, who by the way happens to still be my good friend, and who I happen to still care for, and you think I'm overreacting? And more than that the girl I care about likes him back? Yeah, it's sooooo my fault." I feel myself frowning and putting my eyes to the floor shamefully.
I guess when you rationalize it that way, I do sound like quite the…well, bitch.
I am so stupid.
But honestly, I don't even want to speak to him the way he's been acting lately. I suppose that after all those years of us hiding the fact we liked each other, that he was disappointed we lasted as a couple for such a short period. That doesn't mean that my feelings don't matter though, I felt like all he wanted was to kiss me, and do other things. Because he already knew me like the back of his hand. That's what he told me the first night we spent alone-alone together. We were friends for 6 years. So what else would be left to find out?
A lot. I wanted to have conversations about what we really thought about things, things you guard and hide from even your greatest of friends, but every time I tried, he just said it was too heavy a conversation for 'right now'.
Still doesn't mean I don't love him; just not like I thought. Sigh.
"Ron, please. I just…I just need some time alone, okay? Please." Ron crosses his arms with a puzzled expression, like he isn't sure if he should go or not: fighting an inner battle.
I roll my eyes and get up, grabbing my books. "Fine, I'll leave then," and swish past him pretentiously. "I have to go to class anyways," I humph, nodding to Harry before I go, and proceed to walk to the year 7 practice room, since I have almost an hour before class.
As I make my way up to the tower I suddenly remember that McGonagall is assigning partners today, and now everyone will know we're going to be partners. Malfoy and I. God, he's so irritating.
He's so… repulsive, but at the same time he can just look at me and reduce me to jelly.
For Merlin's sake, why can't anything just work out? Why can't I stop being a hormonal whiny girl and be a rational human being. Sometimes I wish I didn't force myself to stay calm all the time, so I could let this pent up frustration out on somebody who'll listen to me.
Stupid boys.
Hmm, so today's the day isn't it?
Lucky me, I'm going to receive the privilege of being spit upon by the entire school because I'm partnered with a saint and a hero, Hermione Granger. For one imprudent, fucking project. I mean honestly, after having left McGonagall's office 2 days ago, I didn't fully realize the magnitude of what she's letting us get into.
The break in a few weeks is one we'll have to spend together, not that I'm even complaining, cause I like pushing her buttons and making her squirm; but because of the way my mind works when she's around me. I want to fuck her. That is that.
More than that, though, is that I don't seem to hate her anymore apparently, because why else would I have cursed Weasley into the next dimension? It's as if I want her all to myself to torture and tease her. Or seduce her.
I could probably do it too, if I were nice enough.
Right?
Of course I could. But that isn't what's bothering me at the moment. It's, where are we going to work? I mean, unless we stay here at ol' Hoggy Woggy's which I most definitely am not, she'll have to come over. And after last year…even I don't want to force her to relive those memories of dear Auntie Bella. And I'm sure my mother agrees.
I am not going to the Muggle world, most definitely not.
Though I'm quite over the bigotry that I've had imposed upon me for the past 17 years, I…should I even admit it? I'm scared of Muggles.
All I've ever heard from dear old Dad is how disgusting they are, and how communicating with them is a sin. But we all know where Lucius Malfoy ended up with his rigid beliefs on his tirade to be the best.
So I've been trying in the past few months to come up with my own conclusions about what everything means…and sadly I don't yet, I've got no idea. All I've come to realize is that being a nasty, conniving person doesn't get you shit in the end, my parents are proof of that. What does that leave me with? I am a nasty, conniving person, and I always have been. Now that I'm not feeling like that Draco anymore, I have no idea who I am or should be now, and it's stressing me out.
All I know that I like is piano, Quidditch, and booze, and none of those things I am approved of for doing: I can't play Quidditch this year, my Mom hates the piano, and booze is disagreeable with my basically non-existent diet.
Wow, how the hell did I get to thinking about all that with thinking of seducing Granger?
I sigh dejectedly and strike a hard, awful sounding note-combination on the piano with all my fingers. I'm frustrated, I don't know what else I can do besides take out my frustration on my instrument. Kicking someone else's prized possession, except maybe Dean's stupid guitar, is too cruel.
Since nobody is in here, I'm practicing in the seventh year room, just a few songs to keep me sane before the inevitable awkwardness that's going to happen in 40 minutes time.
I decide I'm going to play Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, and start hammering the notes. I get so concentrated that I ignore looking at the door when it's opened by someone. Personally, I don't really even want to see whoever's there because all I'll probably get is a frown anyways.
When I'm about to finish I hear the starting notes of strings. Oh, no.
I gently turn myself around and walk back to the bookshelf nonchalantly to make it seem like I'm oblivious to anyone else being here. I place the composition back onto to the proper ledge, and look out of the corner of my eye. And it's her all right. Granger. I can see the goose egg on her head from here.
I don't recognize what she's playing, but it's really sad. She's closing her eyes gently, while her hands move vigorously across her instrument. God, why is talent and dedication such a turn on?
Just breathe. Deep breath, breathe, okay. Just pick out your next piece and go sit back down; ignore your hormones.
I grab a random book and return to my seat. I look at the cover, put it down then shake my head and laugh at the irony of it: Chopin's Funeral March. Definitely gets the sentiment right of my life's future.
"What are you laughing about?" comes the girly voice to my left. I look with as much scorn as I can muster (which is not much) at Granger, trying to keep my usual persona on.
She has her bow in mid-air, and she looks….vulnerable. Ohhhh, she thought I was laughing at her. "Nothing, Granger," I say to her innocently, and she frowns like she isn't convinced for a second that I wasn't laughing at her. Like good old times. It isn't every day that she actually reacts to me.
Yeah, but you only like it because she's reacting to you. Oh, shut the hell up brain.
"I don't appreciate you mocking my playing, thank you very much!" she practically shouts at me, crossing her arms in annoyance and throwing the bow on the ground beside her case. Okay this isn't normal, she hasn't snapped at me since 3rd year.
"I wasn't mocking you, 'actually'," I imitate her shrill voice.
"Then why were you laughing?" she retorts and I sigh. I guess I might as well get this over with and put her on the spot, considering it would be better now while we're alone than in Music class.
"I was merely laughing at the dilemma of our situation, Granger. And the irony of the fact you're here with me alone, as that's probably how the next few weeks are going to be." I smile at her sardonically, when in reality I do get some pleasure from this situation; she's squirming in her seat. I like having an effect on her.
She says nothing, so I continue. "Which leads me to question, what exactly are we going to do over the break? I for one am certainly not staying here at Hogwarts. I never have for a break, and I'm not staring now."
"I'm not staying her either, actually, Malfoy. So I guess in order to work on it you'll just have to…come to my house." She doesn't sound as convincing a she'd like, sounds a bit defenseless. My mouth just gapes from her nerve to say that, my eyes are wide in disbelief.
I look down my nose at her, defiant, with a chuckle at my lips. "Seriously? Me? You think I'm going to visit your precious Muggle world just for a project?" I laugh emptily. "Why would you even let me in your home?"
"Well I'm positively not going to that, that house of YOURS," she emphasizes and I almost feel insulted. "After last year, do you really expect me to even want to step foot a mile away from your house?"
She says it with a note of desperation, and I almost feel taken aback. I don't think I'm evil enough to talk anymore about the manor, just in case she starts crying from the memory, because then what am I going to do? Girls crying not only annoy me, but it's my weak spot. I hate seeing my mother cry and I hated when Pansy used to obnoxiously whine, it was such a turn off.
"What do you suggest then?" I sneer. This will not end well.
Truly contemplating this situation, I think to myself that I know she is stubborn enough to not comply with me should I force her to come see me. Then she would do the project herself so she wouldn't fail. Normally I wouldn't even care about failing in a situation like this, but this is Granger we're talking about; the girl who beats me at everything. If we're presenting this and I don't…then everyone will just look at me like I'm a stupid loser, and worse as prejudiced because I wouldn't work with the stupid Mudblood.
"I don't know…" she finally utters quietly, not being bossy for once. But making it more complicated at the same time.
I really can't make her come to my house, I feel myself deciding. And honestly, I think mother would have a fit if she found out a lesser blood was coming over anyways. Especially one that's been in her home before, and one that has a history with me. But I do not want to go to Muggle central, considering her family wouldn't approve of me hanging around their 'perfect' daughter, and I don't want to meet them. But it's almost as if I have no choice. Sigh.
Well if I have to admit defeat I'm milking it as much as possible.
"Granger," I question, and she looks from the ground into my eyes, her own sad, almost desperate. "Say I were to agree with you, and visit your…'home'." Her back straightens and her eyebrows furrow curiously. "If I said yes would you 1) let me pick who we focus on, 2) let me come by the Floo Network, or apparate, I don't care which 3) let us work on it when I say so, and 4) not go outside at any cost?"
"What! ?"
"It's the least you can do, is it not? I have to go to a world I've never been in before, why can't I do it on my schedule? And why should I have to go be a Muggle when I don't need to?"
She look furious, and she'd even be hot if she wasn't being resistant to my wishes.
"First of all, Malfoy, and let me make this clear:" She stands up as if that will intimidate me. "Even if I let you choose who we do, and I'm betting it will not be a wizard band, but a Muggle composer," I scowl at this, "that going to the library and book or music stores in the 'Muggle world' will be of a great help because we can find books and biographies on him or her." Ugh, I never thought of that.
"Second, no I don't care if you apparate, but we are to both to decide on a time, because I have family coming, and I know you won't want to meet them, nor would I like you to. Third, I like to work in a very concentrated manner, I've hardly had to work in groups, so you're going to have to co-operate otherwise I'm just going to have to do it myself, and all you'll get to say was you picked the person."
Well she certainly ruined the fun of that.
"Finally, I – "
"Fine." She's aiming a finger at me threateningly and freezes mid-point when she realizes what I've said.
"F-fine? That's it, just…fine?"
"Yep. I tire of this, to be honest. I already knew this whole exercise would be like pulling out teeth, so as long as I get some of my way, I'll attempt to be er, somewhat accommodating." She looks at me like she's thinking: "You, accommodating?"
"Oh don't give me that look; it isn't as if you're dealing with somebody stupid, Granger. How else do you think I made it to NEWT level courses?" she snorts at this but I ignore it. "And besides, if we write on someone interesting maybe I'll be more willing to pitch in, anyone you would've picked would've been dull as hell." I swivel around and flip open Chopin, ending our conversation (I love when I get the last word.) I begin to play the Funeral March.
"That seems quite fitting," she lashes at me, and I laugh again. It's strange how we seem to always end up on the same brainwave or thought.
She gathers up her violin, grabs her jacket and bag, then storms out of the room.
"See you in cla-ass," I ring out merrily.
Muggle meetings will definitely suck, but I quite like her when she's angry. Somewhat arousing.
And she's going to be like that the entire project, lucky me.
I hate him. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!
I don't even want him to come over at all, why didn't I just stay here? Oh, but then he would've gone home anyways, and then there would be no point of me just waiting until he had a free day. I wonder what he does in his stupid manor anyways.
Probably just drinks until he has a buzz and invites Pansy over to have sex with her.
I stop in my fuming tracks. Where did that come from?
I'm just all over the place. How in god's name am I going to tell Mum that he has to come over? Even if they don't know who he is or what he's done to me over the years, he's still a boy. And if the project is really elaborate, he may have to meet them.
No, no, no no no!
If only I wasn't such a wimp. I wouldn't even feel that troubled going to see Narcissa Malfoy, after what she did for Harry. Even though it was really for Draco. Malfoy should really be more grateful to have at least one caring parent, even though she probably never told him the reason Harry survived was because of her. That would be far too much shame to admit to her son; after all Harry was his arch-nemesis.
I just can't stomach walking into that horrid drawing room and reliving the memories of Bellatrix. I can't do it. I was going to suggest that we meet halfway and i'll go to his house one day if he comes to mine he next, but he agreed. I was so taken aback that I didn't know what to say.
What the hell goes on in his head?
As I continue walking to the Tower, my thoughts are interrupted by a hesitant voice.
"Her- Hermione. Are you alright? I'm sorry I know I shouldn't say anything but – "
Oh god, it's Dean.
"No, it's okay Dean, just make sure Ron isn't here. I'm alright, just – err, just stressed about school," I force a laugh.
"I think everyone is. Hey, did you find out who your partner was for Music?"
I go rigid but keep on smiling. "Oh, n-no, what are you talking about?"
"Oh, that's weird. McGonagall sent out these little letters I guess this morning, telling us who are partners were and we shouldn't tell people to create an air of 'mystery' so our presentation will be better. What a bunch of tripe," he chuckles. He looks at me grinning, and I shrilly laugh like he said something funny. "She's probably just saying that so nobody gets jealous at someone else for getting their best friend or something. She said that instead of just mixing up the Advanced etc, she's mixed up all of the seventh years. Funny, huh?" That is weird….she said Malfoy and I were a good match because we were equal in 'proficiency'.
"I got Lavender, euch," he pulls a face but shrugs it off. He's never been one to take things very seriously. I return the grimace and he laughs.
"Yeah I know, she kind of ruined your life for a minute, but at least she won't hit on me like she used to if she likes a git like Ron," he chuckles. I try to chuckle too, but I realize that's true. And I'm suddenly mad all over again at Lavender and even a bit envious of Ron: somebody likes him enough to sabotage relationships for him.
"Oh, sorry. Should I stop talking about him?"
"No, it's okay."
"Are you mad at me?"
"I wish you would've handled the situation better, and listened to me. Ron hates me now, not that I'm not upset, it's just ludicrous. McGonagall wants you away from me, but he's the one who hit me. I was just trying to not break up a friendship and I-" I find my voice wobbly, and I'm horrified. Hold yourself together, goodness Hermione.
"Hey, don't worry about it." he says. "I am sorry. Shouldn't have done it," he shrugs again, though sadder now. "But you know, he'll get over it. He just cares about you. Maybe he'll fall for Lavender again."
"I guess you're right. God, I'm glad you're not so upset about it." No sour grapes, I admire him a bit right now, not a lot of guys would even say anything so realistic and nice.
"I like you, Hermione. I acted like an idiot. I'm not going to push it."
"And why would Ron?"
"Ron doesn't understand that it hurts you and he more when you're fighting to be a couple than it is just staying friends. He's a jealous type, probably just never wanted it to end – I don't blame him," he winks at me.
"Well we're early, guess there's no harm in sitting out here and talking," I say gently, smiling faintly.
"I guess not; well when somebody comes, I'll zip my lip, don't want to get into more detention," he says annoyed.
We converse for a good 15 minutes, and then from behind us we hear someone talking to us.
"Breaking the rules are we, Granger? Tsk, tsk, didn't think you'd ever disobey the headmaster."
"Shut up, Malfoy. McGonagall said until she was ready to talk to us we were to leave her alone, so obviously if we're having an enjoyable chat, she's okay with it."
He sneers at him, and plops onto the bench next to me where Dean and I have settled ourselves.
"Who would ever enjoy a conversation with her?"
I feel myself turning red. "Malfoy! If you don't stop insulting me I'll-"
Suddenly, the door swooshes open and McGonagall's pointy hat appears.
'What is all this fuss I hear…?" She holds a slightly bewildered expression at the sight of 3 teenagers who shouldn't be sitting on a bench together and then beckons us to come inside.
"You 3 sit down, away from each other. It's like dealing with toddlers, I tell you…" she mutters and I look at Dean; we share the same offended expression.
After a few minutes everyone's arrived, considering there's only 8 people in the class that isn't anything special. Everyone is whispering curiously about who is partnering who (Cho questioned me, probably the first time she's spoken to me directly since fifth year after she thought Harry fancied me). McGonagall however clears her throat and steps in, abruptly ending all exchanged banter.
"I know you are all excited about finding out who your partners are, but I encourage you not discuss it, as it will be much more amusing to your peers on presentation day to find out who got who," she smiles tightly, and it's obvious everyone can see right through her façade. But it comes as a relief to me, and evidently Malfoy, who is nodding his head and even darts a look in my direction for which I give a small approving look. I wonder if she did this just for us?
Of course that would be nonsense, but I expect after all these years she's probably tired of dealing with Harry, Ron and I, and especially Malfoy.
"Now as I said last week; You are discovering more about one artist, composer, or group. I will be handing out a package to each of you that explains in full detail the requirements of the assignment. You will be making a 15 – 20 presentation on your person or persons," groans fill the room, "and that includes your performance piece, so please do not pick a song that is more than 7 or 8 minutes. I cannot stress enough that you are attempting to educate your peers on this person, so visual or audio aid will most likely help you greatly. Someone may pick the same group as you, I think it is unfair to make a sign up sheet, and so you need to make your knowledge stand out. If you know anyone who is Muggle-born or a half-blood who can get access to such Muggle materials, assuming you pick somebody non-Wizard, then by all means ask them for help," she looks thoughtfully at me and Dean, and we awkwardly smile at everyone who's staring at us fascinated.
McGonagall continues talking about the project and though I know I have to partner with Malfoy, and will have a lot of friends mad at me because I didn't tell them until the day of the presentation he was my partner, I'm excited. It sounds like loads of fun, and I have a ton of ideas…I guess I just have to wait until Malfoy tells me who he wants to pick.
If it is a composer, I hope they don't lead a boring life. I know he won't pick Mozart or Beethoven, who had really interesting lives, because they're too 'well known', and not as dignified as his stupid Chopin. I want a composer who used violin and piano.
I guess I'm going to have to pray for a miracle.