A/N: This chapter has much going on and a bit of a turn of events at the end. Oooh, read on for more! hehe Please Review! I was very pleased to get the most ever for one chapter last time. Thanks for reading, Yay! :p
Hermione pointed her wand at him swiftly and gave it a short wave. It shone a bright green. "The wand never lies, Malfoy," she offered reluctantly. "And, it strikes me as rather odd that you would want to engage in idle late night exchanges with me when you haven't stringed two sentences in my direction all week!" she concluded, focusing her eyes on flickering flames as the radiating heat warmed her feet.
Malfoy sat silently for a moment, in an effort to dramatise his response. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Granger, why do you always have an answer for everything?"
"Is that a question, Malfoy?" He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I have question for you, Granger." Hermione ignored him.
"Why have you been drinking fireswhiskey?" She turned at looked at him blankly. Clearly, the friewhiskey was still in her system, she had never drank so much in her life, albeit the small total of four shots.
"I must have missed the memo which requires me to report back to you, Malfoy," she retorted.
"What memo?" he languidly drawled. "I think it's a perfectly reasonable query. It's not often, Granger, that the Head Girl is seen entering the head dorms, very well after curfew, with half her clothes in hand, and a man's drink on her breath, wouldn't you say?"
Hermione sighed with frustration. "Malfoy, as far as I'm concerned, we have a non-disclosure policy going on here. I never ask about your private affairs, other than my repeated requests that you exercise some decorum, which seems to be rather difficult for you, so shove off!"
Draco laughed haughtily. "Decorum, Granger? That is really something!" He continued to laugh, once again mocking her.
Hermione glared back at him, her grip tightening around her wand. "And what effect is your placebo having on you this evening, Malfoy?" she snapped shakily.
He stopped laughing. Hermione stood up off the malleable bean bag, stepping forward, towering over the great prat in his seated form. It was a sight to behold. Hermione had not been this close to Malfoy since their unspeakable encounter involving one unstable potion. He looked up at her questioningly, egging her on. "Did you need it to get it up? What, with your busy schedule, and all?" She regretted saying it as soon as she saw the instant malice in his eyes. Her knuckles were white around her wand; it was almost her security now.
Malfoy's eyes diverted to her wand grasped hand at her movements. His reflexes were so quick she did not register his advancement until his strong grip encircled her wrist, pulling her down onto his lap. She fell against his chest, winded by his rock hard physique.
"Wouldn't you like to know, Granger?" He practically growled in her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine, of fear and of something foreign. Her heart rate reacted to the sensations.
"Malfoy, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" she fumed, her voice slightly edgy. His mood swings were unpredictable these days. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he held her in place as his other hand gripped her waist.
"Answering your question, Granger," his tone resolute. He leaned forward, nipping at her earlobe. Hermione, shocked at the contact, gasped, her body tensing in response. She was frozen in place, cornered by the feel of his tongue on her skin as he toyed with her, licking, and then sucking between her ear and jaw line.
Her mind clouding, her grip loosened on her wand, letting it fall silently against the soft psychedelic carpet. Her awareness closed in on his actions as Malfoy drew kisses along her jaw line, down to the nape of her neck. She unconsciously tilted her head away from him in response. Her breath hitched as he found her pulse point, sucking violently. She could not control her urge to lift her free hand to the back of his head, her fingertips clawing into his hair as she pulled him into her, letting out a small moan of pleasure as her whole body relaxed.
He stopped.
Clarity returned.
Horrified, they turned to look at each other. Her fingers instantly untangled from their hold on him, her hand dropping to her lap as his grip on her simultaneously loosened. He cleared his throat with unease as Hermione stared at her hands, neither registering that she was still sitting on his lap, as they were lost in their thoughts.
"Uhm, Granger?" his raspy voice broke the awkward silence.
"What?" she snapped her head up to look at him.
"Can you get off me?" She jumped off in realisation, glaring at him. He had the audacity to smirk.
"You asshole!" she shouted. "You're the one who put me there in the first place!"
"Well, if it wasn't for your incessant defiance, it would never have happened!"
"My what?"
"You brought it on yourself!" he thundered, back to his normal self, his eyes blaring with a rage that challenged all previous stares that she had received from him.
"You assaulted me and it's my fault?" the incredulity in her voice apparent.
"Exactly!" he reasoned, nodding his head in a self-serving manner.
"Explain how that is possible?" Her hands were on her hips now. She could not believe her ears.
"You made me! And, how dare you say I assaulted you? I am not Thomas! If my memory serves me correct, you liked it!"
She gasped at the thought. "I did not!" she yelled fervently.
"Did too, and you have the mark on your neck to prove it!" he smirked victoriously.
Hermione lifted her hand to cover the telling spot on her neck as she ran to her room, slamming the door behind her. She fell onto her bed, her head slightly spinning; and let herself fall in to a tumultuous slumber to escape reality. Her wand lay forgotten on the common room floor.
Hermione awoke more exhausted than she had ever felt before. She did not want to move a muscle, yet her teeth were fury, she still had her uniform on and, she was parched. Slowly sitting up, the sun seeping through the windows hit her in the face head on. She lifted her hand in haste to shield her eyes. It had not even crossed her mind to shut the curtains. Burying her head in her hands, Hermione groaned aloud as the memory of last night returned. Strip exploding snap; spin the bottle; kissing Dean; the firewhiskey; and, Malfoy!
She groaned even louder. She did not even remember casting a spell on Dean, hopefully it had worked. Begrudgingly, she moved off her bed and headed to her bathroom, stripping her clothes off along the way. She was desperate for a shower.
She stood over the basin wrapped in her towel, brushing her teeth vigorously for about ten minutes. She had kissed more boys in one night than she ever had. The mirror finally cleared of its foggy state and her eyes widened in utter revulsion at her reflection which revealed the undeniable hickey on her neck.
She leaned in closer, to ensure that her eyes weren't deceiving her. Nope. It was definitely there. And, to top it off, it was Malfoy's doing. Hermione felt a dire need to hyperventilate.
"Relax," she spoke out loud for reassurance. "It's ok, nothing a glamour charm can't fix."
Her mind would not let go. "Malfoy!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, before stomping her foot in helplessness. How could she let this happen? How did this happen? She mentally berated herself, seeking answers while searching for her wand. Hermione had no recollection of where she had put it.
Her room left upturned from her search, she finally gave up and dressed, strategically tying a silk scarf around her neck. It will have to do. Hermione decided she would spend her Saturday hiding away in the library, and if that became too much, her safe haven. She was reluctant to venture to the fourth floor on a Saturday though; it was most likely going to be occupied by one Slytherin, or another.
Grabbing her bag, she ventured into the common room for a quick search of her wand. Surely, she would have left it here somewhere. Looking over worriedly at Malfoy's door, she did not want to stick around long enough to increase the chances of a run in. Reluctantly, she accepted defeat and exited the portrait hole in a huff, hurrying in the direction of the Great Hall to grab a quick bite and much needed drink before seeking solace in the library.
Barely an hour had passed when Hermione received her first interruption. It was her fault. While working through her transfiguration essay on Animagi, Hermione's mind switched to the Slytherin potion as she came across mention of one Desiree Mabruxy, the first registered animagus. The surname sounded familiar at first instance, until it hit her that it was the same as one Albatros Mabruxy, whom she had read about in her private library. It seemed like so long ago, despite the fact that it was only yesterday.
So much had happened since.
Distracted by this new bit of information, Hermione headed to the catalogue to search books which might shed some light on the Mabruxys. There were several. She made her way to the stacks which housed texts on great wizarding families and pulled out the first one she could find titled, Descendants of Salazaar Slytherin. 'Typical,' she thought.
She walked back to her desk, sitting with eagerness to search through the untouched source. Surely enough, the name Mabruxy was in there:
"Direct descendants of Salazaar Slytherin, the esteemed Mabruxy family held great power in the wizarding world for over two hundred years between the 17th and 19th centuries. The line ended with the daughter of Albatros and Desiree Mabruxy, Rose Mabruxy, who married into the Malfoy family. Her first born was named Abraxus, a play on the letters of her father's name. It is rumoured that the Malfoy and Mabruxy families were involved in a feud in the final days before the sudden disappearance of Albatros, in 1898. The investigation into his disappearance was closed without resolve. Desiree Mabruxy is also well remembered as being the first registered animagus in the wizarding world – taking on the form of a sparrow, inspired by the great aviary owned by the Mabruxys."
Hermione was stunned. No wonder Malfoy placed so much emphasis on his lineage. The prat really was pureblood royalty. She liked the name Rose though, and would never equate it to be a name of a Malfoy. 'Only by marriage,' she reassured herself.
Despite this new bit of information, Hermione still had nothing on the etat d'esprit except for the fact that she could safely assume Malfoy had inside knowledge of it. It aggravated her that he knew something she didn't. At the same time, she was glad that she was not the one who had not developed a dependence on it; he was really acting strange these days. She wondered whether her comment last night had stirred an emotional reaction of defiance that made him get all personal on her. She shuddered at the recollection, not wanting to remember to prevent nausea, but also fearing another reaction if she did let herself dwell on it. The chance escaped her by the presence of another.
Hermione's second interruption came when one Blaise Zabini presented at the Head Girl's reserved table and promptly took a seat opposite her. She looked up at him questioningly.
"Good Morning, Granger," he smiled. She was not in the mood for smiling Slytherins.
"Nothing good about it," she muttered wryly. He smirked in response before leaning over and grabbing the book.
"Hey! I was reading that!"
"You were reading Descendants of Salazaar Slytherin? Very impressive, Hermione." She raised an eyebrow.
"So which is it Zabini? Granger, or Hermione, I am getting sick of the switching," she snapped.
"Which do you prefer?" He, in turn, raised an eyebrow suggestively. "I like Granger, it has guts to it. And, Hermione, well, it's…" he paused to reflect with melodrama, "pretty," he finished, his eyes lighting up like sapphires. Hermione felt her cheeks heat up in response. She inwardly groaned at her pathetic reaction. Too bad she didn't have her wand to hex him. He was staring at her with new found interest, and she was certain it had something to do with her pink stained cheeks. "You should call me Blaise," he continued.
"I will do no such thing," she replied boldly.
"Fine, as long as you call me Zabini, I'll call you, Hermione. When you call me Blaise, I'll refer to you as Granger. How does that sound?" he teased.
"Unlikely!" she huffed.
"Whatever you say, Hermione." He was back to grinning. "So, found anything interesting in this magnificent reference?"
"You've read it?" she asked.
"Every Slytherin makes it their prerogative to read it," he responded pointedly, as if she had mistaken the obvious.
"Excuse my ignorance," she retorted with sarcasm.
"It's okay, you're probably the only Gryffindor ever to pick it up," he offered with the same tone.
"Well, that's reassuring," their banter continued. At least he wasn't suffering from severe mood swings.
"So, have you discovered anything after our meeting the other day?"
"Other than the fact that Malfoy is acting really strange?" Hermione unceremoniously rubbed the offending spot hidden beneath her scarf.
"I wouldn't know, we're not talking," he shrugged.
"That seems pretty strange to me."
"Yeah, well, he's being a demanding little shit lately, and I'm over being on the receiving end of his crap," he let out in one breath, his irate state obvious. Hermione was surprised by the frankness of the Slytherin seated before her; he had no qualms about expressing his infuriation towards his best friend, and to the Gryffindor Head Girl of all people!
"Are you sure you're not taking the potion?" Hermione inquired.
"I told you, I stopped all that," he snapped. Ah, there it was; the familiar demeanour of her potions partner.
Hermione frowned in thought. "Uhm, how often did you use it?"
"Granger, why are you being pushy? This is not about me."
"Fine!" she seethed impatiently, "I was just trying to justify why on earth you suddenly want me involved in all this, and why you are bitching about your best friend to me, of all people!"
"I do not bitch, Hermione, that is what girls do," he stated bluntly, as if she had made an uncouth error of judgement. "Besides, I already told you why I want your help, we'll be guaranteed results." Hermione sighed in defeat. Silence overcame them as she reflected on his last comment, feeling a little flushed.
"Only a few times, for one reason or another. Probably no more than on ten separate occasions since school started. It took a month to brew the first lot," he offered finally, seemingly apologetic. Hermione regarded him quietly as he stared back at her challengingly, not blinking once. She broke contact as his startling eyes became a little too much for her to handle.
"Do you know anything about Albatros Mabruxy?" Hermione asked, suddenly feeling a little shy at sitting in silence with her potions partner, outside of the lab, voluntarily.
"Sure, he's Draco's great grandfather." Hermione nodded.
"Do you know why he disappeared?" Zabini seemed to hesitate at her question, averting his gaze to the stack of books behind her. Hermione leaned forward across the desk, feeling rather jittery that she had just asked a rather juicy question. "Earth to Blaise?" She purposely used his first name.
"I heard you, Granger!" She smiled at the familiar reference.
"So, then answer it Zabini!"
"Fine, Hermione! He never disappeared, that was a cover up. He was an unregistered animagus." He seemed to be in a battle of the minds, debating whether he should have just told her that bit of information. Hermione was very pleased with herself.
"So much for your great Slytherin reference book, it's all censored dribble, and probably full of embellishments." Blaise chuckled at her scrunched up face.
"That's because you're not a Slytherin and wouldn't know how to read it." He stood up, walked around the table and sat down in the seat next to her. Hermione was startled by his closeness as he pulled the book towards them and opened it to the page she was reading on the Mabruxys. "See where it says, 'a play on the letters of her father's name'?" Hermione nodded, as he leaned over closer to point it out. "That is a clue."
"How would you know that?"
"Hermione, who cares if his name was a play on the letters of her father's? C'mon!"
"Well, it might just be the humour of the writer," she offered lamely, feeling distracted by the close proximity to the alpha male beside her.
He turned to look at her with amusement. "Slytherins don't read or write for amusement, Hermione."
"Fine!"
He smirked at her defeatist response before continuing, "a play on his name could also suggest a literal approach given that the author has already pointed out the more unidentifiable play on letters, so one can easily deduce that Albatros Mabruxy was an animagus, who's transfigured form was –"
"An albatross," Hermione concluded. Zabini turned to face her, impressed.
"A perfect form to conceal oneself in the great aviary of the Mabruxys," he lowered his voice, his eyes averting to her lips. Hermione tensed in anticipation as he leaned forward slightly. They sat, facing each other, inches apart. He was teasing her by not closing the gap between them, and she sure as hell wasn't going to make the first move. She looked down at his lips, full and enticing, and was shocked by her desire to want to kiss them, just to see what it would be like.
Just as suddenly, Zabini pulled away, and stood up.
"I have to go. Quidditch practice," he stammered, clearing his throat. "I'll owl you the recipe for the potion, just use this spell to reveal it," he withdrew a piece of parchment from his pocket, and handed it to her, their fingers brushing against one another as she took it. She nodded, looking down as he walked away. Hermione fiddled with the parchment. It was still warm. Her life had suddenly adopted the characteristics of a tornado, full of turmoil. Was there any Slytherin without issues? Did she do something to lead him on? Hermione felt like she was suddenly the victim of a streamlined plot of madness.
"Stupid Slytherins and their hidden agendas," she muttered. Of course, no Slytherin text would ever be straightforward. She snorted as she recalled her naïve response at the potential humour in a reference text. "Good one, Hermione," she outwardly scolded. Riled and distracted, she packed her bag, checked out the offending reference book that had caused her sudden hormonal imbalance, and walked out of the library petulantly.
"Hermione!" She turned to see Harry running over to catch up with her.
"Oh, hi Harry," she broke her reverie.
"Nice scarf." She looked at him questioningly before realising that she was in fact wearing the strategic scarf.
"Thanks," she muttered. "Did you just get up?"
"Yeah, big night, huh? How'd you feel this morning?"
"Not good. It was the first time I had noticeably drooled in my sleep." Harry laughed. They walked aimlessly out into the quadrangle and sat hidden behind a cluster of pillars, leaning against the hard stone.
"Hey, do have your wand with you?" she asked, remembering her dilemma.
"Yeah why?"
"Can you try a locating spell for me? I can't seem to find my wand," she shrugged sheepishly. Harry looked at her with bewilderment.
"Since when do you lose your wand?" He announced.
"Shhh!" she buried her head in her hands with embarrassment. "I know!" she mumbled behind them. "It was the firewhiskey!" she continued in her defence. 'Amongst other things,' she thought.
"Hermione, look at me." Harry nudged her gently. She looked up, her hair still covering most of her face. Harry moved it away, tucking it behind her ears. "Is everything ok?"
"Fine, Harry. Just a bit stressed. It doesn't help that I can't find my wand either. I feel bare without it!" she exclaimed. Harry nodded, recognising her distress and pulled out his own.
"Do you know any spell that can help locate it?" he asked her.
"Uhm, try Accio, or maybe a magical compass based on my charge" she suggested, thinking hard at the available options.
"Ok, Accio Hermione'swand!" he pronounced, waving his wand with concentration. They waited with bating breath.
"How long does it usually take for you broomstick to get to you?" she asked. Harry shrugged.
"Couple minutes."
"How long has it been."
"Couple minutes." Hermione groaned at his response. Harry grinned cheekily.
"Maybe it's locked away somewhere?" Harry offered.
"Where? The last I remember having it with me was in the Gryffindor tower. I'm pretty sure I took it back to the common room with me, there is no reason why I would leave it behind," she reflected.
"Maybe you dropped it when you were making out with Dean," Harry replied teasingly. Hermione glared at him.
"Spare me."
"What? It's perfectly plausible. I forget my wand when I'm with Ginny all the time." Hermione groaned even louder.
"Harry! Too much information!"
"Aww, c'mon Hermione, it's not like you haven't clued on that Ginny and I are sleeping together."
"Harry!" He was laughing so hard at her facial expression of distaste that he fell to his side curled up in an uncontrollable fit. Hermione kicked him playfully in the leg. "Speculation is not fact, Harry. Thanks for ruining my appetite for the rest of the week."
"It's a good thing it's Saturday, then," he replied, finally composed and sitting upright. "It also leaves you one day to locate your wand." They sat in contemplative silence. "Hey, do you have the marauder's map with you?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Maybe it'll show up on that? It might locate two Hermiones," he suggested.
"You know, that just might work. It's been less than twenty-four hours so it might trick the map." She pulled it out of her backpack eagerly and handed it to Harry.
"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," Harry said, revealing the contents of the map. His brows furrowed in concentration as he scanned through it.
"Well, I can see you with me here," he offered lamely, continuing to look. "Doesn't look like it's showing anything, sorry to get your hopes up," he looked up at her apologetically. Hermione shrugged, unsurprised by her bad luck.
"Well, I guess you can have the map back anyway, I no longer need it," she said ruefully. She had grown attached to having it with her at all times.
"Hang on a second, it's also showing you on the fourth floor. I don't know that area though." Hermione's eyes widened.
"Let me see." He handed her the map, looked perplexed. Surely enough, there was a very faint ribbon floating about the fourth floor, and she knew exactly where.
"I have to go! I know where it is!" she spoke hastily, standing up and grabbing her stuff. "I'll see you later ok?"
Harry frowned at her reaction. "You sure you don't want me to come with you?" he asked worriedly.
"No! It's fine, I must have dropped it on the way back to my room last night." She gave him a quick hug before rushing off, leaving behind one baffled Harry Potter.
Hermione practically ran all the way to the fourth floor, in fear of losing out on locating her wand. She waiting impatiently for the stairs to change, rushing up them as soon as they locked into place, raced down the main corridor that finally turned into the familiar unused hallway. She stopped outside the notorious classroom to catch her breath before pressing down on the door handle and opening the door.
She stepped in without thought at what wards might be in place, and instantly regretted her lack of tact as her whole person was enveloped with a thick chilled slime, causing her to shriek at the contact.
"Hermione?"
"Ugh!" she lifted her hands to her face to clear her eyes. Before her stood one very amused Zabini and one unmistakably smirking Malfoy.
"What is this stuff?" she shrieked in disgust.
"It's just basic slime," Zabini laughed.
"Blaise! This is not funny!" She saw Malfoy's brow furrow at their first name references.
"Granger, what the fuck are you doing in here?" Malfoy barked, unimpressed.
"You!" she shrieked, her rage coming back to her from the night before as she saw him standing, arms crossed, the perfect picture of a fresh looking, well rested, smug prat. She rushed over to him in her slimy state and shoved her finger on his chest in rage, not caring that she was dirtying his pristine t-shirt. Zabini stood frozen, stunned by her reaction.
"You," she seethed angrily, shoving her finger into his chest with each word, "have. something. that. belongs. to. me!"
"Why would I, have some thing that belongs to you?" he replied cockily, seemingly unfazed by her repeated poking and t-shirt staining. Hermione's eyes narrowed with new found fury and with both hands she shoved him, hard. He grabbed her wrists as she went in for a second shove, her mind clouded with such anger she could feel uncontrollable magic stirring within her. He gripped her hard, heightening her recollection of last night as the hairs on her neck stood on end.
"Granger, stop this nonsense!" he thundered.
"Let go of me!" she shouted, pulling against his grip for release.
"STOP! Both of you!" a third party interjected with a roaring authority. Hermione and Malfoy stood shocked as a displeased Zabini walked over to them standing to one side.
"Draco, let her go," he demanded. Malfoy instantly dropped her hands and she stepped back, rubbing them both, the slime was cooling against her skin. Zabini turned to her, lifting his wand in her direction "Scrougify". The slime disappeared instantly, leaving the impression that it had only been a horrible daydream.
"Thanks, Blaise," she muttered.
"Blaise?" Malfoy repeated harshly turning to his housemate for answers. Zabini ignored him, focusing on one panic stricken Hermione.
"You ok?" She shrugged. "Sorry 'bout the slime, it's a gag we set up on weekends when we know some of the other guys are going to wander in," he smiled reassuringly. Hermione nodded.
"It's fine," she mumbled awkwardly. She could feel Malfoy's eyes on her.
"Blaise, why the fuck are you explaining yourself? She shouldn't even be in here!" he barked. Zabini looked over at his housemate, unimpressed.
"I don't think she would have come in here if she didn't have a good reason."
"You're defending her?" he cried with incredulity. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Nothing is wrong with me, what's wrong with you?" Zabini's voice rose. They glared at each other. Hermione stood there, wondering what the hell was going on.
"Blaise?" she stammered. "Do you mind if I talk to Malfoy, alone?" They both turned their attentions to her, both holding expression of surprise. She looked at Zabini, pleading with him. He sighed, nodding.
"I'll be outside." He stomped out of the room, slamming the door.
Hermione glared at Malfoy, he still had slime on his t-shirt. She was glad Zabini had not scrougified him.
"I'd like my wand back, Malfoy," she stated bluntly, her tone flat.
"What makes you think I have your wand, Hermione?" he was mocking her.
"If you can't handle the fact that Blaise and I have decided to refer to each other by our first names then that's your problem." She liked how he was irked by this very recent development. He regarded her silently, maliciously, before his eyes dropped to her scarf and a great big smirk presented itself. Her breath hitched.
"Never took you for a scarf wearer, Granger. Too classy for a lowly person such you," he remarked coldly. She could feel her blood boiling as she clenched her fists.
"Malfoy, you are so full of yourself, I'm surprised your head hasn't exploded," she snapped. "Now, give. Me. Back. My. Wand!"
"You mean this?" he offered slyly. He lifted his t-shirt behind him and pulled out her wand from his back pocket. Hermione moved to grab it. He pulled it out of her reach, he was a good head taller than her,after all.
"I don't want to play games Malfoy, just let me have it and I'll leave quietly," she said exasperated at the turn of events.
"Ah, ah, Granger, how do I know you won't resist your urge to hex me?" he scoffed.
"Malfoy, I want to get as far away from you as possible. You are a nuisance!" she retorted, hand on hips.
"Tell me, Granger, why would one want to cast a possesif eruption spell? A lover's scorn perhaps?" Hermione narrowed her eyes in realisation, sending him the most malicious death glare she could fathom. He chuckled at her expression.
"How dare you!" she yelled. "What makes you think you can go around picking up people's wands and casting remembrance spells to invade their privacy?"
He merely shrugged, "It's fun when it involves you, my dear Head Girl."
"I hate you!" she shouted. There, she had finally said it to his face, after all those years of pent up anger. She could feel tears building up behind her eyes. Not wanting to stick around to let him see her crumble, finally, she turned around, forgetting about her stupid wand and walked over to the door opening it in haste.
On the opposite side of the hallway, Zabini was sitting against the bluestone wall. He looked up at her; she avoided his gaze as she turned away, hurrying down the hallway and out of sight. "Hermione!" she heard him yell after her. She ignored his calls, going straight to her dorm room and shutting herself away. For the first time in her life, Malfoy had managed to shatter her defences.
A/N: Poor Hermione, will she bounce back with more fervour? What's going on inside Malfoy's head? How will her relations with Blaise develop? And, lets not forget our beloved Gryffindor Dean, he has a few things to learn himself! :p