A/N: I realise its been over a month since my last update, and all I can say is, "where has the time gone?" It's my b'day this week (25 March) so thought it was high time I posted another chapter as a way of inviting you all to the party! LOL Happy birthday to Megan who wanted an update in time for her b'day. A belated b'day gift to you! Oh, and birthday wishes to my fellow aries buddies! heehe
On to the real reason why you have clicked in...
It was around midnight when Hermione snuck out of the fourth floor classroom and made her way back to the Head digs. Blaise had departed much sooner. Unaccustomed to her gruelling work ethic, he had left her to prepare the rest of the ingredients.
She was a quick learner, after all.
He had methodically worked her through the process they would need to follow and the strict timeline that ruled their schedule. She had never seen him so confident in his element, as he showed her each ingredient and the conditions of their storage and use. He handled them with the utmost of care and concentration, she was almost wary to go ahead with making it.
"One of us will need to be here daily to check its progress once prepared and see it through to maturity before adding your blue blood. After that, we will be practically sleeping in here to ensure the right changes occur, who knows what will happen with your version. Not to mention, I will not be able to rest until that mandrake pus is added," he instructed; a slight distress apparent in his frown.
Hermione gulped, nodding. "We will be counting down to the second when it comes to the mandrake pus," he added.
His focused outlook left her wondering if what happened in his bedroom was just a figment of her imagination. He had left her with so much as a nod, looking fatigued and somewhat pensive.
Hermione was relieved to be walking back to her room, but her mind would not shut down, reeling over her new found commitments and the prospect of spending time with Blaise Zabini.
She sighed with relief as she stepped into a deserted common room, the unlit fireplace evidencing the lack of occupancy over the last few hours, at the very least. Hermione walked toward her bedroom door, her arms slightly sore from her fine chopping, her eyes stinging from their prolonged focus on a single task. As she reached for her door handle, she heard what sounded like stifled moans emanating from behind the Head boy's bedroom door. Hermione immediately narrowed her eyes, her fingers clenching tightly around the handle as her imagination configured an explanation for such sounds.
She was disgusted.
Not because of what she speculated was occurring behind the closed doors of Draco Malfoy's bedroom, which was unsurprising, but for the rising emotion that was threatening to overthrow her sensibility.
Hermione Granger was jealous.
And, the rage forming in the pit of her stomach was enough to shake the very foundations of the castle. It was inexplicable and consuming.
She dropped her books and proceeded to cross the room blindly to her destination, her common sense quashed into a fleeting cloud of dust. The barrier to his room was non-problematic, as she uttered the password mechanically and threw the door open, stepping past the threshold.
The room was empty and freezing cold, waking her senses.
Hermione stared, wide eyed, at the broken window on the opposite side of the room, the moonlight shining through and reflecting off the shards of glass on the carpet. Puzzled, and curious, Hermione stepped in further, looking for any signs of life.
She was certain she'd heard someone in here only moments ago, and surely she would have heard glass break? Hermione pursed her lips, perplexed at the state of affairs, her mind clear of the indefatigable emotion that had drawn her into the Slytherin's room in the first place. She walked over to the window, careful not to tread on any glass.
The Head girl glanced out. the moon casting enough light for her to make out the lawns and fringe of the forbidden forest below. She heard the hooting of owls beyond her line of sight, but the night looked still and unaffected.
She turned her attention once again to the broken glass, pulling out her wand and muttering 'reparo'. Malfoy must have thrown something about, she surmised as she scanned the room. There was no other reasonable explanation for it. Seeing nothing else out of order, she walked back into the common room, ignoring the festering guilt of her initial reaction that had driven her into Malfoy's room in the first place.
Hermione's sleep was restless, despite her heavy lidded eyes and physical exhaustion; she had a nagging feeling that she had missed something.
The incessant tapping against glass only served to intensify her disgruntled state. Hermione shifted sleepily, opening one eye to ease her intake of sunlight. Disoriented, she sat up, moving her hair away from her face and rubbing her eyes to adjust more quickly. Her gaze searched the origin of the interruption.
She spotted a large owl perched at her window, its beak hitting against the glass, in an almost calculated rhythm that grated on her nerves. It caught her gaze in turn, huge stone coloured eyes fixed on her, as it stepped back slightly, anticipating her movements. Hermione threw her duvet to one side and stood up, walking over to let it in. She had never seen such a striking owl; its startling jet black coat took her breath away.
Hermione welcomed the creature into her room, opening the window. "You really know how to get my attention," she mumbled sleepily, reaching out to stroke its feathers gently. It responded automatically, shutting its eyes in appreciation. "I wonder who you belong to," she checked to see if it had any message attached to its feet. She frowned slightly, seeing nothing. Not inclined to wait for her direction, the creature stepped over the window sill and scanned her room. He seemed awfully interested in her bedroom door.
As if trying to emphasise his presence, the owl let his wings expand, the great length drawing her attention instantly as it perched proudly, boasting its size and colouring. She could now see speckles of straw coloured feathers lining the bottom of its wingspan, a startling contrast to the dark as night body.
"I'm afraid I don't have any treats for you," she let out, trying to guess its intentions. The owl retracted his wings instantly, turning his head to her, she could swear it was tilting it at such an angle that was almost unimpressed. It seemed to be debating something as it took two steps toward her, before pausing. She frowned at its behaviour, wondering why it had come to her room. Perhaps it was lost? She searched it for any tag of ownership.
"Were you looking for your owner?" she asked, reaching out to pat its smooth, feathers once again. They were like silk, and she couldn't keep her hands off him. Hermione noticed that the same straw colour of his feathers marked his brow. Again, it did not respond, but instead watched her as she caressed him gently, his posture relaxing against her touch. She was certain that she was emulating a similar soothing response as her restless temperament seemed to dissipate.
Hermione moved to shut the window, the chill was becoming noticeable as she crossed her arms to warm her skin. "Well, I can open the doors for you to go up to the owlery, or you can stay here until I bring you some food," she directed, "but that will be a while." The owl remained unresponsive.
"Fine, well, I'm going to shower, so I'll leave the door open in case you make up your mind," she huffed, realising that talking to the darn owl was a waste of her time. She walked over to her bedroom door and opened it wide, before walking past it again, its head turning to follow her movements into the bathroom.
When Hermione emerged, feeling fresh from her morning routine, the owl was nowhere to be seen. "Figures," she let out plaintively. She just had to take in stride, like everything else lately.
The most difficult task ahead for Hermione was not brewing blue blood or preparing the etat d'esprit; it was facing Draco Malfoy in the prefects meeting that afternoon. Ron walked with her to the designated classroom where Hermione and Malfoy had scheduled the monthly meet to resolve any patrol schedule issues and de-brief prefects.
"I hope this doesn't run too long Hermione, I have detention with Snape after this and I need to finish the essay I was given a detention for not handing in."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, you can leave early if you need to. I'll fill you in on anything you miss." The last thing she wanted was Ron complaining to her that he had yet another detention because he couldn't submit his overdue assignment in the previous one. Was anything ever straight forward these days?
They entered the classroom. A few others were seated casually around the back of the room while Malfoy sat alone at the front, fussing over a pile of parchment. Clearly he hadn't done the rosters for his assigned Slytherin and Ravenclaw rotations.
"We'll start the meeting in a few, Ron. Just need to run over some stuff with Malfoy." Ron nodded, and joined the other prefects. Hermione could see Blaise and Daphne in quiet conversation, he caught her gaze as she walked past, giving her a small nod. She smiled slightly in return and turned her attention to Malfoy.
"Granger, nice of you to come," he piped without looking up, his quill still moving hasitly along the parchment.
"Malfoy, I hope you've finished your rosters. Mine will be completely useless without the other half," she replied tartly, glad that he had not yet looked at her. She placed her things on the table somwhat tentatively.
"Well if your Head of House weren't so deranged, then maybe we wouldn't be in this predicament of having two people do the rostering for an end result that could have been managed by one of us."
Hermione wasn't in the mood for an argument. Normally, she would have responded by now but this was too trivial to challenge. She had more pressing issues occupying her time than trying to rationalise why they had each been asked to arrange a rotating roster for the prefects of two houses and then merge them with each other's to form patrolling partners.
Perhaps it was her silence, or maybe it was that he had finished his plans, but Malfoy looked up at her inquiringly. She just returned his expectant look. "Well, are you ready to start?" The Head Boy broke out into a smarmy grin as he leant back in his chair. Even her inaction caused a reaction in him.
"Ready when you are, Granger," he replied. She rolled her eyes in annoyance.
Turning away from him, she called the meeting to order while Malfoy continued to sit in his complacent state of being.
"Okay, so as you know, we have revised patrolling rosters. The Professors have agreed that since we should be used to each other by now, Slytherins and Ravenclaws will only patrol with either a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff but not each other, and vice versa."
A few groans ensued. Hermione ignored them.
"As it is a rotating fortnightly roster, you don't have the pleasure of patrolling with the same person all the time, but you might be partnered with one person more than another depending on the days you nominated your availability. Basically, the intention was to give you the chance to let us work around your other commitments, to avoid the same people patrolling every Friday and on weekends, and from others swapping without myself or Malfoy knowing," she explained.
Hermione noticed a few guilty looks.
"Your partner is purely random, Malfoy and I haven't even swapped lists yet."
Her statement was followed by a few intrigued looks. It was only then Hermione realised that she had inadvertently admitted that she and Malfoy and not been cooperating when it came to Head duties. She felt her cheeks redden as she reminded herself of what level of cooperation they had agreed to recently.
She heard the chair next to her scrape along the cold stone floor as Malfoy stood up. "That is to say, Granger and I agreed not to collude so that we purely rostered according to your preference rather than who we thought you might happen to get along better with," he directed with authority.
She turned to stare at him, incredulous that he has just qualified her statement in her favour.
Hermione quickly nodded in turn. "Yes, that's right," she said quickly.
"So we don't get excited about our new patrolling partners, we'll stick them up on the door at the end of the meeting," Malfoy let out, the sarcasm eliciting a few chuckles from his fellow housemates.
"Okay, next item of business. It seems that a bunch of fourth year students have taken to trying out their new spells on the younger students. Madame Pomfrey has asked us to pay extra attention at catching the culprits. I believe she has been rather busy lately."
She heard Malfoy stifle a laugh behind a cough. She was tempted to hex him herself.
The meeting continued with Hermione chairing, and Malfoy taking an unusual step back, letting her dictate the discussions. When the topic of helping the professors manage the raucous sixth years at the next Quidditch match came up, Ron abruptly stood up, looking at Hermione guiltily to remind her of his request. She nodded and he moved to leave the room.
"Where do you think you're going Weasley?" Malfoy suddenly cut in, standing up.
"It's fine; Ron has already run it by me that he has to leave early." Hermione turned and glared at Malfoy as she maintained her civil tone. He was in an antagonistic mood, she could tell.
"What about the rest of us who have committed to this meeting? He hasn't run it by me," he goaded.
Hermione shut her eyes momentarily and took a breath. "Ron, you can go. Malfoy, we can discuss this later," she replied, trying not to grit her teeth.
"Not unless he tells everyone where he's going?" Malfoy stated matter-of-factly.
"Detention, Malfoy," Hermione bit out for his ears only. He grinned maliciously. She knew he would feed of this information.
"Weasley, who's your detention with?" he jibed.
Hermione looked at Ron apologetically as his ears reddened at the question. That was the tell tale sign of his short temper. "What's with the twenty questions? I've told Hermione. I think that should suffice, seeing as though she is the Head Girl." Ron retorted.
"I can't say I feel assured that she is acting in her capacity as Head girl, or just your chummy friend."
Malfoy was clearly being a prat.
The other prefects were clearly amused by the developments, watching the interaction closely.
"Rest assured Malfoy, as Head Girl, I have allowed it. Ron has explained his situation to me, and there is no need for further discussion," Hermione affirmed, her tone impatient. The prefects were amused by the exchange. She knew she was being particularly rude by not looking at Malfoy when addressing him. She nodded once again to Ron, who hesitated a moment, before leaving the room.
The room was overcome with silence.
"In that case, Granger, I have other more pressing matters to attend to, also," Malfoy sliced through the tense air with his biting resolution, strode across the room and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
That was a first.
Hermione stood, dumfounded and agape at the front of the room.
"Trouble in paradise?" Hermione looked out at the culprit. Lisa Turpin was smiling back at her sweetly, sitting cross-legged on one of the desks, looking her picture perfect, spiteful self. She could see Blaise trying to catch her gaze in her periphery. She stared straight ahead, her body beginning to heat up with rage.
The meeting ended with Hermione reassuring the prefects that she would owl them a copy of the roster.
"That was really unnecessary, Malfoy!" Hermione was yelling at the Head boy who was lying on a bean bag, his tie and robes on the floor, drinking from a bottle of what looked alcoholic.
After the abrupt end, she had remained in the classroom trying to cool off. It didn't work, her had blood boiled with rage as she teetered on the precipice of lashing out a few distructive spells in dissatisfaction. She'd collected her things and the parchments Malfoy had left behind, and walked out in a right state.
The door had slammed for the second time.
The Head boy brought the drink to his lips, his head tilting back as he took a swig. He remained in that position, with his face looking up at the ceiling, mute.
Hermione walked up to him and threw his stuff on the floor.
"You completely embarrassed me!" she continued, waiting for him to respond. "Oh, so the Head boy suddenly has nothing to say?" she lashed out. "I have good reason to hex you about now!"
The Head boy lazily tilted his head to look up at her, his eyes locked on hers as he brought the bottle to his lips again. Almost involuntarily, she reached out to grab it from his lips in frustration. He seemed to have sensed her movement, grabbing her wrist.
"Ah, ah, Granger," he chided, pulling her toward him with unfounded force. She lost her balance, falling into his lap, emitting an "oomf" as she hit his hard body. He had still managed to take a swig in the meantime.
"Let me up, Malfoy," she snapped, trying to lift herself up. It was difficult enough trying to remove oneself from a bean bag in any ordinary occasion. It was damn near impossible when there was a body between her and the bean bag. He let go of her wrist and sunk himself deeper into the muggle contraption. She was forced to bring her hands to his chest as she fell against him.
She was practically lying on top of him and he still managed to take another swig of his drink.
"Malfoy, you're being ridiculous," she bit out. Hermione was trying to push herself up but that required wriggling about in his lap and pushing against his chest. The situation was growing more unsettling with each passing moment.
She could feel herself react.
Taking matters into her own hands she reached for the bottle. He eyed her carefully.
"I want a drink, Malfoy," she snapped. His smarmy grin returned and he obliged. She took the bottle and in two calculated moves, she fell against him completely, setting the bottle down behind his head and rolling them off the bean bag, onto the star studded carpet.
He was now on top of her, his face straight and unresponsive at their state of being.
At least they were off the beanbag.
"Granger, never ever try to dismiss me again," he drawled, his voice low.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, "Never ever question my judgement as Head girl," she retaliated. They noses were practically touching. She could distinguish the flecks of grey in his eyes.
He broke out into a smirk, his cue to his next move as he rolled them over again, so that she was now on top.
"Please feel free to make a judgement call here, Granger," he grabbed at her hips, locking her in place. To gain some leverage, her legs straddled his torso as she tried to balance herself and lift herself off. She felt his lower anatomy react, her eyes widening in response.
"Let me go, Malfoy," she practically whispered, her body betraying her as unwanted thoughts of where this could lead overthrew her senses.
Almost instantly, his hands came away from her, once again forcing her to let her hands fall to his chest for balance, while he tucked his under his head. He was looking back at her with interest, an eyebrow raised.
Too stunned by his leniency, she remained unmoved.
A/N: Two part chappie - sorry guys ! xoxox