A/N: A peak into life in the Head Digs...
"Harry, can I borrow the marauder's map?" Hermione whispered, noticing he wasn't paying attention to McGonagall's theory class, but rather, he was doodling snitches on his parchment. Harry raised an eyebrow in interest, surveying his friend's face for any sign of mischief.
"It's just for some prefect stuff - some of them aren't practicing what they preach and I want to catch them out," she convincingly lied. Harry eyed her warily.
"Hermione, don't you think that's a little vicious? I mean, aren't you supposed to just trust them?" he queried.
"I'm not going to have their badges revoked, it will be more of a reprimand," she hurriedly assured. She might just go through with this thought after all, along with her initial intention.
"Fine, but I don't approve. And, I might need to borrow your notes for this class," he grinned sheepishly. Harry was, after all, more into practical magic rather than books and theory. His emerald eyes regarded his reliable friend with the familiar warmth that he saved for only Hermione and Ron.
"Like you never do!" Hermione could only laugh, elbowing him softly at his attempt to blackmail her.
The morning dragged on, Hermione walked back to the Head's common room, after Harry had given her the marauder's map, to dump her rather impressive load of parchment, wrist sore from her rapid note taking. As she entered behind the portrait, charmed to appear like an extension of the corridor with a knight guarding the path, Hermione could hear muffled discussion coming from the common room.
"- definitely an 8…that makes 7 for me-"
"- Fuck…all the good ones!"
"-what about - …changed my mind-"
Hermione stepped quietly into the room to find Zabini, Malfoy and Nott in deep conversation, looking over a parchment. Her stomach rumbling, she just wanted to get out as soon as possible, avoiding any confrontation. Too late.
"Granger!" Malfoy bellowed, slightly shocked, but quickly masking his worry at how long the Head Girl had been there. His anger almost gave her a fright…almost. She glared at the lot of them. Zabini was looking slightly uncomfortable. Nott maintained his cool blankness. "What are you doing here!" he seethed.
"If I may recall, I am the Head Girl - "
"I don't give a fuck if you're a professor, what did you hear?" he pierced her indifferent eyes like he was ready to perform legilimens on her.
"Nothing, I just walked in then, like I care what you prats are up to," she stated flatly, turned, and stormed into her room, slamming the door…again, an uncontrollable rage starting to build in the pit of her stomach. She silenced her room and threw her books against the wall. The nerve of that chauvinist! They were supposed to be equals – this was her space as much as his! Hermione needed to compose herself before her next class. As her hunger pains were overcome with bile building in her gut from her disdain, she sought refuge in a soothing bath.
Preceding this unsurprising raucous exchange, Hermione was excited about the changing state of events that had emerged this week. As she relaxed in a pool of delicious aromas, Hermione could not help but conjure thoughts of Dean and their impending date. She never thought he would be interested in her, but in retrospect, he did make an effort to speak to her, and make her laugh, or listen to her when Ron and Harry were bothersome. Hermione, not having any close girlfriends to confide in, struggled to show any deep emotion, and was rather guarded in showing her affections. Except for Malfoy and his goons of course – the only affection she had for them was pure loathing and distaste. Like a permanent lingering of the aftertaste of a decent retch.
Thoughts disturbed by her wand's escalating screech acting as an alarm for her next class, Hermione dried off and changed into her uniform before heading to Ancient Runes. The common room was empty on her way out, thankfully.
The Great Hall was abuzz with gossip, catching up, eyeing exchanges, and clutter. Hermione dragged herself in, after a long day of class and reading, finding a spot next to Harry. She started to load her plate with food, paying no head to Ron's incredulous stares as she stacked her plate.
"Hermione, you ok?"
"What's wrong Ron? A girl can't eat as much as a boy?"
"Well…no. At least, I've never seen you try. Just don't think you'll be able to finish all that!"
"Watch me!" Her challenging eyes not leaving Ron's bewildered stare, as she stuck her fork into the shepherd's pie first and filled her mouth with the tantalising warmth.
Dinner progressed with Ron and Harry shooting Hermione looks of amazement as she polished of her plate. Ron almost fell back off the bench seat as she then reached for some sticky date pudding. Boys just did not understand that there was always room for dessert, especially for a girl with cravings.
Feeling satisfied to the hilt, Hermione upped and walked out of the Great Hall, telling her two friends that she had some Head stuff to attend to and would catch up with them later. She rounded the corner of the fourth floor, and instead of continuing along her usual route, she carefully headed to her personal library, swiftly opening the door before anyone could notice.
Hermione reclined on her newly favoured velvet armchair, taking out the marauder's map from the internal pocket of her school robes. Whispering, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," as she tapped the map with the tip of her wand, it revealed itself. She scanned through it trying to find her name. Harry and Ron were still in the Great Hall, Ginny was with Dean. Malfoy was in their common room with Blaise and Nott again. Wait. Ginny was with Dean? She looked back to see that they were in the corridor leading up to the Gryffindor tower but they weren't moving towards the entrance. That's weird. She didn't give it any further thought and concentrated instead on finding the ribbon with her name floating about the fourth floor.
There was nothing to that description. In fact, the room didn't seem to be represented at all. There was the unused classroom next door, and the corridor intersecting it appeared closer, as if the room she was in didn't exist. Hermione frowned, feeling perplexed. What could possible make this room evade the undeniably precise map? She looked up at the tapestry of figures, wondering if any would know. She approached them, eyeing them closely, "Hello? Can you hear me?" she timidly started. No response came. It was unusual compared to the other portraits in the castle whose figures were the eyes and ears of the hallways, speaking to students, responding to other portraits, and travelling through them. She frowned in concentration, defeated, and moved to sit on the rug, lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling soaking up the golden silence.
Hermione woke a few hours later to find herself curled up on the rug; the embers of the flames from the fire had died out. It would be well after curfew and Hermione was feeling extremely guilty at the abuse of her power she had just exercised, even if by accident. She quietly left the room, and headed back to her quarters. The fire in the common room was still ablaze, she figured Malfoy had been up late. Feeling nostalgic from the warmth she had relied on in her library she sat on the couch, soaking up the soothing flames once again.
As she began to doze off, still in her robes, a sudden shuffling and murmuring of voices interrupted her from submitting to her looming slumber. She lazily looked around the room, seeing Malfoy's door open. She straightened out across the couch, not wanting to be seen as Malfoy entered the common room holding the hand of a girl she recognised as being from Ravenclaw, but did not know her name. He had walked her to the portrait where they stood kissing for what seem like a torturous length of time, before she exited.
Feeling rather displeased to have witnessed Malfoy and his latest play thing, she closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep and hoping that her presence would go unnoticed. She focused on steadying her breathing and waited for Malfoy to retreat to his room and shut his door. Her patience was waning as she listened out for the signal that he was gone, but it did not present itself. She heard a rustling noise and felt a slight breeze as she sensed that he was approaching the couches. She heard him sit opposite her, unmoving. What the hell was he doing? Keeping her eyes closed and breathing steadied she was growing uneasy at what Malfoy was up to.
She felt his eyes on her. Hermione was inwardly cursing herself for not going straight to her room, for feeling enticed by the comfort the fire yielded. She suddenly heard the creak of the leather couch from his movement. She felt his body heat near her. Very near her. He was leaning over; his lips close to her ear.
"Granger, I know you're awake, just thought I should tell you there was a little bit of action going on that couch earlier that you weren't privy to," he whispered huskily. She inwardly cringed, the hairs on her neck standing on end. Oh, how she wanted to hex him. But she would not prove him right by opening her eyes. His hand reached out and touched her hair; it was such a creepy gesture she wanted to scream.
Before Hermione could react he had stood up and walked away, she heard his door shut with finality. She was frozen from shock, she was disgusted, and an overwhelming sense of fear crept over her that she had never previously associated with Malfoy. She ran to the bathroom, throwing off her robes, luckily her uniform had been protected, and dumped it on the floor, never to be worn again. She undressed quickly and jumped in the shower, the hairs on her skin had not yet relaxed and the feel of the hot water made her shiver from head to toe. She stood under the running shower head, calming her nerves. Finally, she stepped out of the shower and reached for her wand, performing a drying spell and a scrougify charm for good measure. Hermione dressed quickly, desiring to be under her bed covers. She sighed at the safety she felt once under them, drifting off into a very deep yet disturbed sleep.
Her hate for Malfoy had risen to unimaginable heights.
A/N: Poor Hermione...or perhaps not? :p