A/N: Finally, I have updated! Sorry for leaving you up in the air for a while. Lots going on, but I committed myself to get this update out to you before my exams at the end of this month. Enjoy! Hope I haven't deterred readers from the wait! :p
No matter how hard she tried, Hermione could not ignore the festering guilt that travelled with her like a permanent shadow. What had happened with her and Blaise was, well, extreme. She tried to excuse it by reassuring herself that it was Malfoy's fault. He had inadvertently led her into the arms of the comforting Blaise. But, even that was a ridiculous notion. Sex never solved anything! Now, her troubles were compounded tenfold.
All she could think about was that she had deceived Malfoy.
Now that was a revelation in itself.
She sat in the library, not studying, but hiding, like she had done for the past few days. He was the voice of her subconscious, "Granger, you're just like the rest of them. Easy." She could hear Malfoy scolding her, as her overactive mind dwelled on the events of the night in her fourth floor hideaway.
How could she let herself get carried away like that? Was she that desperate that her body betrayed her the minute the possibility of sex was the table? She had resisted Malfoy's toying, and then proceeded to end up in the arms of the 'nice' Slytherin. Clearly, something was wrong with this picture.
Had Blaise taken advantage of her emotional state, or had she taken advantage of him being there as a means of releasing her inner turmoil? He certainly didn't stop her. Then again, he had already told her, in more than one way, that he wanted her.
"I thought I might find you here." Hermione almost jumped out of her seat as the familiar voice broke her internal quarrel.
"Harry!" she exclaimed. He sat down opposite her and gave her a small smile. She had hardly spoken to him since his confrontation with Malfoy.
"So, any reason why the Heard Girl has become a recluse while the recently dubbed, Mad Malfoy, is wreaking havoc and using every bloody school rule there is to deduct house points? He's been handing out detentions like a crazed professor. He saw Ginny and I exchange a kiss in the hallway and gave her the detention. Not me? What the hell is that about?" he queried, leaning forward and watching her with those intense eyes.
She almost flinched, afraid he was about to perform occlumency.
"I've had a lot on." It wasn't a lie.
"That doesn't mean you have to avoid your friends. You've always got a lot on," Harry challenged.
"Yes, well, it's been a particularly testing week," she's stated, trying to put an end to the conversation.
"That whole Malfoy thing isn't still going on, is it?" he asked tentatively. She still hadn't forgiven him for his judgemental remarks.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she replied tersely, trying to keep her anger in check. "You're the one who passed judgement. There is no Malfoy thing."
Not anymore.
Harry was silent. He slumped back into his chair with resignation. "Do you think you might want to join us for a round of butterbeer after dinner? It would be nice to have you around the Gryffindor common room now and then."
"I might do." It was all the commitment she could manage. "I need to meet with Professor McGonagall after dinner. If I come, it will be after that."
Harry nodded once, understanding her resistance. He stood up. "I hope you do," he said, as he pushed the chair in. "I really miss my friend." And with that, he walked off, leaving behind one stunned Head Girl.
Could the guilt get any worse?
The fat lady was in an irate mood when Hermione approached. "Password," she bit out.
Hermione rolled her eyes. You'd think being Head girl of Hogwarts would earn you browning points with the portraits. "Mandrake."
"Very well," was the reply, as the portrait swung aside. Hermione climbed through, the familiar smell striking a sense of comfort, as the noise from the common room drowned away her hesitations.
She spotted Ron and Harry lazing about on the couches near the fireplace. Harry had his back to her. Ron was laughing about something, as he caught her eye.
"Hermione!" he yelled out, waving her over. Harry turned around abruptly, his eyes locking with hers. He smiled, running a hand through his messy hair in relief.
She walked over and sat down next to Harry. "What are you two laughing about?" she asked.
"Ron's love life," Harry offered, smiling.
"Very funny, Harry. I was actually laughing about Lisa Turpin. Malfoy really gave it to her in the hallway yesterday. Can you believe it? Lisa Turpin! The hottest girl in the school, and Malfoy just squashed her like a bug. He's finally gone barmy. Always knew he was. Bloody hilarious!" Ron shook his head in amused disbelief.
"You'd probably be pleased to hear about that, Hermione. After the way Lisa spoke to you in the prefects meeting the other day. She's got a sharp tongue that one. Like to get near it myself..." Ron's voice trailed.
Hermione couldn't help but laugh. Harry shot her a quizzical look. "What? It is funny," she defended. She kind of liked the idea of Lisa being shut down.
"Course it is!" Ron re-affirmed. "Come on, Harry, get us a drink will you?" Ron kicked Harry in the shin.
"Alright, no need to get violent." He kicked Ron back. Hermione laughed, pushing Harry in the arm to get him off the couch.
"Hey! No need to gang up on me! I'm going!" Harry said between laughs, standing up.
It was the first time in a while that Hermione forgot about everything and just enjoyed the company of her two long time friends.
Walking back to the Head digs was much less daunting after a few butterbeers, despite the tumultuous state of affairs associated with it. She'd seen Malfoy in class, but they hadn't exchanged a word since her bottle smashing, and his violent outburst.
Hermione turned the corner and froze, just short of the knight's portrait.
"Isn't it a bit late to be wandering the hallways?" she asked lightly, trying to hide her surprise.
Blaise Zabini pushed of the wall. "Well, hello to you too, Hermione," he smiled. "Malfoy's turned in early, so I thought I might wait for you."
"Why?" She obviously didn't think before she'd spoken - he and Malfoy were hardly on the best of terms.
He walked over to her, leaning in and giving her a peck on the cheek. "Thought we might have some fun," he replied suggestively.
Was this a bootie call?
"I was thinking of turning in myself," Hermione shied away from him, walking toward the portrait. The knight lifted his visor, eyeing the Slytherin behind her with narrowed eyes.
"I'm afraid I can't let you in, Miss," he asked.
Hermione frowned, puzzled by the knight's statement. "Pardon me? You know I have a right of entry? I'm the Head Girl!" she defended.
"I'm sorry, Miss. I don't know what it is, but your magic is no longer recognised as belonging to the Head Girl," the knight replied calmly. What? Hermione was in a state of panic.
Hermione shook her head. "That can't be, I was just in there a few hours ago!" She had forgotten all about the Slytherin behind her.
"Have you gone barmy?" Blaise sneered at the knight.
"I only respond to the Head Girl, young man," the knight stated, unimpressed.
"Hermione Granger is the Head girl!" he yelled back.
The knight shrugged. "Best to take it up with the Headmaster. I'm under strict orders." With that, he dropped his visor and walked out of the frame.
Silence ensued. She could see that Blaise was completely confused and exasperated.
"This can't be happening," Hermione murmured, leaning against the wall, trying to compose herself. He heart was about to jump out of her throat. There was only one explanation for this.
The contract.
"Hermione, I'll go find a professor. Clearly, the knight has lost the plot!" he tried to reassure. She had crouched down against the wall now, her head in her lap. She felt Blaise's hand on her shoulder.
"C'mon Hermione, why are you acting like there's nothing you can do?"
"Because I've brought this on myself!" she almost yelled in frustration. She stood up, moving away from the Slytherin. How was she going to explain herself now?
"It's over," she repeated again with resignation. "I'll go sleep in the Gryffindor tower."
"Wait! I know it's late, but there will be a professor doing the rounds at this time."
"Blaise, I appreciate your effort, but there is nothing you can do. And I mean, nothing!" her voice rose unintentionally. She tried to control her temper, not wishing to take it out on Blaise. He was ignorant of just how messed up things were, and the extent of her bindings with Malfoy. Not to mention, his involvement in her involuntary resignation from her Head status.
The portrait door suddenly swung open.
Hermione turned her head, an intake of breath signalling her gasp. To see Malfoy, standing in his boxers, hair dishevelled, looking mighty irate, stirred too many emotions. She was not ready for a confrontation.
"What's all the racket? I'm trying to fucking sleep!" Well, at least he'd broken his silent treatment. He spotted Hermione. He seemed to momentarily react to her defeated state.
"Granger, what the fuck are you doing out here, it's - " Malfoy froze, his eyes narrowing as they fell on Blaise. "Oh, I see. Didn't realise you were entertaining a visitor, Granger," he spat.
Hermione was lost for words. Could matters decline any further?
"Cat got your tongue, Granger?" he scowled. "As for you Zabini, you're a fucking snake."
"Leave him out of this, Malfoy." Hermione snapped abruptly. This was getting out of hand.
The Head Boy stared at her, agape, before responding cruelly. "Granger, did you lose your head along with your virginity?"
Blaise leaped forward with his arm raised. Hermione stepped in between them in time, holding her hands up to stop him.
"Don't...," she ground out. She had lost a lot more than that.
"Hermione, I'm not going to stand around and listen to Draco insult you."
"Blaise, it's not going to help," she asserted. "Just...let me speak." He reluctantly stepped back.
"Watch who you call a snake, Malfoy. If my memory serves me correctly, doesn't the Slytherin Prince hold that title?" he sneered. Hermione pushed against him to increase the distance between the two.
"The dungeons are calling, Zabini. I suggest you make your way down there, before I force you," the Head Boy threatened.
"Shut the fuck up! Both of you!" Hermione practically screeched. Her state of unparalleled distress was apparent to both.
They were muted by her outburst.
She turned to face the Head Boy. "Malfoy, I can't come in unless you invite me." It sounded like a whisper, drowned out by the sound of her beating heart.
More silence.
"Granger, what the fuck are you –"
"Malfoy, I need you to invite me in," she replied more firmly, and calmly. Her eyes fixed on his urgently.
"Is this some kind of joke? Invite yourself in!" he thundered. Hermione shut her eyes. If a professor turned up to witness this scene, it would definitely all be over.
"Draco, you git, take a hint. Invite her in!" Blaise yelled out.
"Fine, get inside, Granger. You're barking mad! Zabini, get lost." He turned and walked out of sight.
Hermione exhaled in relief and turned to Blaise, "Hermione, I think I should stay with you. Malfoy's all fired up and crazy. He might do something irrational. What if the potion has been triggered?" he reasoned.
"I can't invite you in, Blaise. I have no rights at the moment. It's probably best you don't anyway," she reasoned.
His hand came up behind his neck, rubbing it in frustration. "Fine. But be careful," he urged finally.
Hermione nodded in return and walked into the portrait hole without saying another word. It shut ominously behind her. After all this time, after all her efforts as Head Girl. she had been reduced to being a mere guest in the Head commons. Malfoy's, at that.
He was nowhere to be seen. The common room was empty. Well, clearly he is not interested in a chat, she mused.
She was about to grab hold of a beanbag when her eyes fell on her bedroom door. It was wide open, and the light was on. The errant sound of her things being disturbed signalled his intrusion into her personal space. She rushed over and stood in the doorway in disbelief.
"What do you think you're doing, and how on earth did you manage to get in here?" she bit out, watching Malfoy shuffle through papers and books on her desk. It was like watching someone rip the pages out of her favourite book!
He ignored her demands. She stepped into her room, noticing the absence of a charge of ownership. "Malfoy, can you stop that!" It was bad enough the room, which house her belongings, no longer recognised it as belonging to her.
She shut her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose as she realised that she had been staring at his bare back.
"Where is it, Granger?" Malfoy said abruptly. She opened her eyes to see him now facing her. His accusatory expression was only hinting at what he was thinking.
"You win, Malfoy." Her hands came up to gesture her surrender, her expression finite. It was over.
Silence enveloped. She expected a snarky remark signalling his satisfaction. He remained unmoved. He face fell, baffled.
"You and I both know that contract was a dud, Granger."
Hermione could not help her look of surprise. "What makes you say that?" she questioned. After all, it had taken her a lot longer to work that out.
"We both abused it intentionally," he shrugged. His detached response was even more insulting that his angry threats.
Hermione pursed her lips. "Which part?" she spat. "How does that explain the knight refusing me entry, or the fact that my room no longer recognises me as the Head Girl?"
"Where's the contract, Granger?" He was avoiding her questions.
"Malfoy - "
"The fucking contract, Granger," he barked. "You know, it might help if we looked at the damned thing." He crossed his arms. It only served to define his bare form. Hermione had to look away. How on earth was he managing in her presence when she was acting like a crazed banshee?
Hermione sat on the bed and leant forward, with her palms covering her face. She was exhausted. The calming effect of the butterbeer was well and truly over. Really, she was drained from it all. She groaned into her hands.
She felt the bed sink next to her, causing her to stiffen. His close proximity rendered her senses irrefutably helpless. Her emotional exhaustion, and defeated state of mind, had triggered the potion's side effects.
The irony was in the timing. She could feel the lust mounting.
It was time to be frank.
"Malfoy, I need you...to leave." Her voice was barely audible behind her sweaty palms.
"No. You owe me one contract. Or, have you forgotten that I invited you in?"
Her heart stopped. She was almost in pain. "I c-can't. Not now," she stammered. Her body was on fire.
This was way more than an exchange of bloody favours.
She stood up, struggling with her bearings. The contract had been disillusioned between the pages of Bloodthirsty Concoctions: the calamities of the live potion, which was sitting in the top draw of her desk. She steered carefully toward it, trying to hide her affected state. She could feel Malfoy's eyes on her as she leant against the desk and opened the draw, pulling out the library book.
The letters of the title jumped out of her, causing her head to spin. Again, she ignored it and reached for her wand. It was a simple matter of a single spell and Malfoy would be satisfied. She looked back at him briefly with her wand in hand, and then down at the open book. Her pulse hammered. Her muscles were shaking.
She whispered the incantation.
Everything after that was a mystery.
Something was definitely off.
Hermione Granger could feel the inertia of movement, yet she was lying limp in what seemed like...the arms of a person. Yet to open her eyes, fogginess engulfed her as she could distantly detect the sound of voices. She strained to recognise the owners as she came to her senses.
She could feel the impact of the person's feet as they hit the hard ground, reverberating through her body.
What happened? Her eyes were rapidly moving behind her heavy eyelids, trying to discern her most recent memory.
Her body ached, it almost felt like she had just had a million needles prodded into her, stimulating every nerve ending and then relaxing them to the point of feigned paralysis. She recalled reading somewhere that if you could move your fingers and toes, nothing was physically wrong. How ironic. She could remember that, but not what had happened what seemed like five minutes ago!
It was a good thing that she could feel her fingers curl as she moved them slightly. The effort was exhausting, however. She felt like a dead weight.
"...we should've taken her sooner." Her returning clarity was slight, but she could just make out snippets of the conversation and the rising vocals.
"...wasn't thinking clearly!" Tempers were rising.
"...blaming me is not going to get us out of this, Malfoy." There it was; her answer. The owner of the voice carrying her.
The question was, where were they taking her?
"We'll just tell her that she fainted." She could hear the deep voice resonate through Blaise's chest.
Tell who?
"Why'd you come back to the Head dorms?" She could feel Blaise's hold on her tighten slightly. At least her nerve endings were functioning.
"You're lucky I did," Blaise retorted bluntly. The air was so thick with tension between the two; she wondered how they even managed to walk side by side without hexing each other.
"Why do I get the impression that you weren't coming to see me?" Malfoy's sarcasm was laced with derision. Even his tone of voice hinted at his utter distaste over the situation.
And then it dawned on her. The contract; that was the last thing she was doing, removing it from its hiding place.
They turned a corner and seemed to be approaching their destination, as she felt Blaise slow down. Malfoy seemed to speed up ahead. She heard doors open, and yet, her eyelids would not budge to allow her to see.
Something was definitely off.
"Madam Pomfrey, there's been an incident..." That was the last thing Hermione heard before she lost consciousness once more.
A/N: Update in first week of June! I promise. xoxo