disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own it.
Stolen
A/N:Yay- another long chapter! Thanks, as always, for reviews. You don't know how much they inspire me! Please keep them coming. We are about half way through Part II now, and I am so excited I have prewritten the next few chapters. The more reviews, the faster I will up-date. Thanks for reading and enjoy this different chapter.
Chapter 18: It's Greatest Fury
The following morning Hermione awoke in her bed, very early for a Sunday, trembling. She rose with her blankets wrapped around her to close the window because of the cold. Once she reached said window she cried out in surprise to see snow falling on the Hogwarts grounds. The flakes were the lightest and largest Hermione had ever seen, she reflected, as she watched them waft down from the grey sky. It was the first snow of the season. Another rare smile found its way across her sleepy visage. She had always loved snow. Any other time she would have roused Harry and Ron, but as that was no longer an option she had to tell someone. Anyone.
"Draco." She called him in an excited nearly childlike manner that got what could be had of his attention. He grunted sleepily from behind his curtains. Now feeling just a bit more comfortable with him, she went to his bed and threw the curtains back. He groaned and hid from the faint light dramatically like a vampire in a cheesy muggle film. She almost laughed at his melodramatic behavior. Absurd.
"The lights are not even lit yet." She told him. "Look! It's snowing." She returned to the open window and was followed by his voice inquiring 'Snowing?', several thuds that meant he had gotten out of bed, and the patter of his bare feet making his way to the window to stand behind her. She did not look at him, but knew he was there as she could hear his breathing not far from her. The flakes had begun to lightly cover the landscape like frosting as they began to stick. Looking up, she blinked into the celestial view, marveling at the resemblance the grey snow clouds had to the color of Draco's eyes.
"What are you thinking?" he asked. She must have that strange, revealing look on her face she sometimes got, the one that made her friends ask the same thing.
"I won't tell you." She replied coyly as she remained looking out the window, a sly smile tugging at her lips.
"And why not? As partners we are supposed to share secrets not keep them." He tried.
"Oh it's no secret. I dare not tell you because it will go straight to your head, it will get even bigger than it already is, and I'll never hear the end of it."
"Now you have to tell me." He declared.
She smiled to herself. She had roused his curiosity, but to appease it? 'What the hell?' she thought. 'It might be funny.'
"I was just thinking," she told him bashfully, glancing down though she still had not faced him. "When you are laughing your eyes are the same color as these clouds." She blushed furiously right after the words escaped her, but, as her face was turned, he wouldn't know that. She smiled again, mischievously.
There was a moment of silence. That had shocked him even more than she had intended to. He was speechless. It was a nice change. For a moment her blush faded away and she felt a surge of triumph.
Then, he approached her from behind causing her to bite her lip nervously. As he leaned in intimately, his close proximity made her so uncomfortable she had to finally turn and face him. Also clad in his pajamas and bed covers, he stood before her looking taller than she remembered. He smiled like fox.
"Can't even pay me a simple compliment without blushing?" he mocked her. Embarrassed, the comment stung.
"Ooh," she fumed, turning away from him and the view that she had been admiring to go get dressed. His bark of laughter followed her, making her face darken. She kept it turned from him as he remained at the window while she readied. More then once she caught him in the corner of her eye sniggering to himself.
Quite suddenly, she felt it was time to see Harry and Ron again. It was Sunday after all. No one would notice her disappearance for a few hours. Draco would almost certainly be going to Hogsmeade. Maybe she could lose him there.
"I said: where are you going?" Draco asked her, suddenly very close again. She must have been distracted in thought and not noticed him approach. "I'm going to Hogsmeade. I need to fetch a few things."
"Didn't you get everything you needed night before last?"
"No," she answered shortly.
"I'll go with you then." He announced and went directly to change. She sighed in disappointment. Of course he would join her. He had to ruin her day. She could not blame him entirely though. They were supposed to be sticking together to avoid detection, but how then was she supposed to discuss the letter with Harry and Ron?
"Okay." She did not want to expose her disappointment. She had to get closer to Draco if she wanted a chance at getting her hands on that book again. Besides, Draco had been bearably ever since she attacked him. She wondered if the boys had found anything in the Chamber. First though, she remembered she needed to find out what happened to Neville. At the memory of her
friend and the way he had worked last night her stomach dropped a little. What had happened to Neville?
"Neville!"
Draco jumped at her sudden outburst just as he was pulling his shirt over his head. "What? Where?"
"I've got to go see Neville."
"Now?" he asked.
"Yes. You did say first thing in the morning. Are you coming with me or not?"
"No!"
"Well, then I guess you're not going with me to Hogsmeade either as I'm leaving right afterwards."
He groaned. "Why don't you go to Hogsmeade first before it gets crowded with all those stupid third years?" he proposed.
"You used to be one of those stupid third years, remember?" she reminded him.
"Well, I don't know about stupid…" She rolled her eyes at him.
"I said I was going first thing in the morning and I am. It was your idea in the first place. You never should have suggested it then."
"Well, I didn't count on me going. Maybe we could just meet in Hogsmeade."
"Yes, because that's what all the lovey-dovey teenagers do, go separately and meet up later. This is a perfect chance to publicize this a little, really get the image of us together out there. We should have lunch."
"We could go to Hogsmeade first and you could get Neville a get well soon gift. Besides, he's probably not even up yet."
"You just want to get out of going to see him."
"Well, why would I want to see him? I don't like seeing him when he's well, why would I want to play nice with him while he's the hospital bed-" she threw a pillow at him. It was well aimed for once and hit him in the face, stopping him from speaking for a moment. He laughed in half surprise.
"It would give you a trusting honorable image. We could tell the Order you're a reformed man, fallen madly in love and all."
"Ahh," said Draco with mock pride. "Now you're thinking deceptively." She rolled her eyes at him again and began making her bed. As she stretched over to pull the sheets tight she felt and heard a sudden light slap on her extended behind. She turned red in indignation, whirling around to face a madly chuckling Draco who had stepped back in anticipation of her reaction.
"Just playing, love." He defended, looking unnerved by the wild, savage look that had suddenly come over the normally cool-headed Hermione. She very much wanted to slap him hard right across his face and that much was evident in her glare. She thought better of it though and slapped his wrist like a naughty child, causing him to wince at the unanticipated sting.
"Not like that you're not." She informed him sharply. "I see no audience to perform for."
"Yeah, but you should have seen the look on your face!" she fumed and he stopped laughing. "Get a sense of humor Granger, geez."
She went back to making her bed. Meanwhile, he leaned against the bed post and spoke. "So, we'll compromise. We go to Hogsmeade first, get Longbottom a get well gift, eat, have ourselves a good snog in the public eye, and hold hands and all that hippogriff dung. Then, we will both come back here and both go see Neville in the hospital wing. What do you say?" he asked, extending a hand with an air of false seductiveness.
She took it and allowed him to kiss her hand without starting in surprise. He looked pleased with himself so she moved away.
Holding hands was really an awkward custom, Hermione concluded half an hour later as they strolled down the frosty streets of Hogsmeade, accompanied by odd stares. It would have been worse if they had not had on gloves (sweating and what not), but even with them on it was an uncomfortable a practice as the looks she was receiving from some of her former, fellow Gryffindors. One of them was Ginny, who looked upon spotting them as if she suddenly felt ill and disappeared into a shop immediately.
"You should be happy you're with me." Draco mentioned. "If not you wouldn't be allowed to visit Hogsmeade this year, being a muggle-born and all."
"It's for their own protection from rogue dementors or Death Eater attacks." She informed him.
"Right. The same reason they can't participate in dueling clubs? Rubbish. They are taking away their privileges one by one. Have you seen or heard of any of these attacks?"
"What about Neville?"
"Longbottom probably fell down the stairs." Draco scoffed. Hermione was not so sure. Madam Pomfrey had seemed too worried. She did not share her thoughts on this with Draco though. Someone may overhear.
The couple, for lack of a better word, made their way down the streets with hands reluctantly clenched together and tight smiles stretched across their faces. Finally, they decided to enter a small cafe for brunch and to shop for something for Neville once they were no longer hungry. The bell tinkled very lightly and Hermione was reminded of the poem she had read to Draco, "The Bells". Crystalline delight.
The woman behind the counter was wearing far too much pink for Hermione liking and she was beaming far more than necessary upon spotting them. The hostess emerged, greeting them warmly, and ushered them to a table. Linda, as she introduced herself, then proceeded to offer them half the menu, eventually agreeing to bring them tea along with some fresh, blueberry scones.
"Just tea, thank you." Hermione had specified patiently as Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance. The scones had been the woman's idea and she had insisted incessantly. To get rid of her, Draco agreed to try them.
"Good grief." He said, removing his scarf and dusting the snow from it. "I thought she would never leave."
"I know," said Hermione under her breath. "And did you notice what she was wearing?"
"How could I not? That thing was hideous! What is she trying to look like? A crochet blanket?" Hermione snorted, but hastily played it off as sneeze as the woman returned.
"Thank you." They both politely offered, refusing several times anything else.
"My she was insistent! Do you think she was trying to poison us?"
"I don't know." He stopped with the scone half way to his mouth. "You should try it first, just in case."
"Oh how chivalrous of you." She said smartly. He held it out for her to take a bite and she accepted bravely, nibbling the end. There was a reason for her sudden willingness to face possibly tainted food. She had a bezoar in her pocket which would serve as an antidote to most poisons. She had been carrying it since school began. Besides, what were the chances of some random café owner trying to poison them? Draco's eyebrows revealed he was impressed even if his smirk tired to cover it up.
The pastry was delicious she had to admit; warm, sweet, and flaky. "It's good." She said, wiping her mouth politely of crumbs. In doing so she eyed the hostess woman ahead, over Draco's shoulder, at the counter. She had a sickly sweet smile on her face as she watched them. Sighing wistfully, the woman retreated into the back of her café. Hermione gulped and looked away.
"Great." She said under her breath to Draco who was now trying his own scone. "She thinks you were feeding me." He snorted.
"Well, that is what we were going for wasn't it?" They both smiled. Joyless smiles. Ironic smiles.
Neither of them spoke as they sipped their tea and ate. It was early for conversation. Still, Hermione could not help but feeling the silent pair of them hardly looked like lovers. Once the food had vanished and they were on their third cup of tea she really began to feel restless. Why were they still there in that stupid love bird café? Draco kept watching the door behind her, as if expecting something to happen. What on earth were they waiting for?
"It certainly is cold outside. Winter came quickly." Hermione finally commented to break the silence, not noticing the figure that made the bell tinkle as they opened the door, inviting in the very wind she spoke of.
Draco leaned forward, that insufferable debonair smile plastered on his face.
"What?" she said, recognizing it as his performance facade though puzzled as to its reason for appearance.
"Come here." He said quietly. "Lean forward." He tilted his head to her.
Brow furrowed, she leaned forward and his hand touched her face, ever-so-lightly. Her lips, frozen from the cold, came in contact with his long fingers as they glided over, tickling her slightly and causing her to smile in spite of herself. The way they were positioned to reach across the table made them face one another, eyes angled to stare at each other lovingly. As neither could manage this, she shut her eyes to keep from bursting into ridiculous laughter.
She opened her eyes in shock, however, when she felt his lips pressed briefly against hers, though partly covered by his fingers. Now facing a mirror placed somewhere behind the counter she could see what he had spied to launch his performance. She quickly shut her eyes again and tried very hard to appear to be enjoying herself. That deplorable Skeeter woman had appeared in the café and was just itching to snap a photograph. She did so swiftly, giving the two a reason to pull apart, their faces struck with false astonishment as they turned to her. Hermione managed a half glare before turning arrogantly around in her most Malfoy-like manner.
The infamous Rita Skeeter made her way over to their table and inside Hermione burned with anger at this despicable woman. Outside, however, she smiled repulsively sweet and took Draco's hand in hers on the top of the table. He flinched only a minute amount at the contact, only she would notice. She winked at him with a sly smile, savoring his discomfort for a change. He returned her gaze, thrilled with their newest game: deception. Rita froze and her photographer snapped another picture at her request.
Just as they had hoped, she approached. "Oh! And how is the lovely couple? Beaming? Resigned? Trying to make the best of a bad situation or was it fate intervened to save forbidden love?" she practically bubbled.
"We're fine thank you." Draco answered smoothly for the both of them. "I'm just enjoying a little brunch with my lovely wife-to-be." Here he brushed her knuckles with a light kiss, stressing the word lovely with nauseating emphasis. She only just allowed herself to blush.
"So would you say then that this arrangement of marriage, which people were at first calling the minister's latest 'fiasco', has actually worked out well for the two of you?" She was fishing for support of the ministry. Her all too obvious goals was to spread propaganda for the minister's campaign all across the covers of The Daily Prophet, using them as the poster couple. Hermione sensed it immediately, but she also sensed the chance for Malfoy's family to earn greater standing with the minister of magic. When it came to matters of diplomacy at least, she and Draco appeared to be on the same page. Now they could have a little fun with this. She had to admit, it was nice not to have to translate for Harry and Ron for once.
"In some ways it can definitely be seen as beneficial." Merlin's beard! He sounded like a politician. "You see, the two of us are practically polar opposites, of course at first we at each others throats," he paused here, his eyes flashing at her covered with a slight smile. For some unknown reason, she felt fiery at once at this statement, but concealed it with a smile. "But now, we can barely keep our eyes off each other." She wanted to laugh. Actually really laugh. It was funny because in a way it was true. At first they had tried to kill one another, and now they were so worried the other would screw up they watched them like a falcon hunting its prey.
"I see." Skeeter scribbled something down. "Has it had an effect on your school work?"
"Yes," he answered quickly, "a positive one. We're both excellent students and now we have the opportunity to learn from each other. Just ask our professors how we are doing. I'm sure they'll be glad to tell you." Strange as it was, that was somewhat true as well.
"What about you Miss Granger? How do you really feel about your engagement Mr. Malfoy?"
She had to think very carefully about this one. She had to be extremely choosing of her words. A tightening of his grip on her hand meant that Draco was urging her to do the same.
"He is everything I could have expected and more." That was true too. He certainly was as arrogant and irritating as she had expected, but there was more there as well. After all, he wasn't a complete idiot, was he?
"I see. How wonderful," she said, though it was clear she did not find it wonderful at all. "Are you at all hurt by your friends' abandonment of you?"
Hermione wanted to protest that her friends had not abandoned her, but her mind closed her mouth with a snap. Quickly, she recovered.
"True friends do not abandon you."
"Too right you are." Skeeter agreed, more pleased, it seemed, with that comment. "And what of the boy-who-lived? What is your personal opinion on his flagrant disengagement with the ministry and opposition to its stands, rulings, and policy?"
This was a loaded question. She hated these.
"Harry Potter's political opinions are hardly my concern."
"If that's all Ms. Skeeter, I'd fancy a walk with my betrothed." Draco stood and Hermione happily followed his move.
"One last question: do you think, since you see it as unlikely that the two of you be paired before now, that this may be an act of fate bringing you together?"
"I think it's more an act of government policy, but let's not mince words." He smartly replied, cool and collected as ever, placing money on the table and standing to go.
"And the effect this has on muggle-born pureblood relations?" she burst out hastily. "Do you feel it has been successful in your case? Your family, mister Malfoy, has been known for his unsavory attitude towards those of impure blood."
Now, to finish her off; Hermione offered: "The muggle-born author of the Once and Future King, T.H. White, once wrote that 'Love can exist with hatred, each preying on the other, and this gives it its greatest fury.'"
Touché. That shut her up. Draco gentlemanly put her coat on for her and admiring wrapped her scarf around her as she spoke. It was a nice touch on his part, she acknowledged. She could see him al the while though trying not to dissolve into peals of laughter at her comment. The two then all but raced, hand in hand once again, out the door. Once they turned the corner into an alley, they both doubled over, grabbing their sides in the best round of laughter either had had in months.
Gasping, they rapidly exhaled the words of their victory.
"At each others throats-!" she laughed. "Literarily!"
"Everything you expected and more!" he shouted. "And to top it all off-" He wheezed, "that quote! Love and hate and fury and all that tosh, that was bloody brilliant. Did you make that up?"
"No!" she laughed. "It just popped into my head from no where. Nice touch with my coat and scarf."
"I was trying not to laugh." He admitted, wiping his eyes.
"I know." She giggled. He snorted and began laughing again. "We were pretty genius." She admitted. "Really Draco?" she batted her eyelashes at him exaggeratedly. "Was I- brilliant?"
He stopped laugh. Smirk in place he asked her, "I don't know Granger. That depends."
"On what?"
"Do my eyes remind you of the clouds above us?" he mocked her again, chortling. This time she stopped laughing, but her smile was still peeking through. The jest was no worse then any of her friends would have gladly offered. She punched his arm, almost playfully. The two moved on before these small measures of camaraderie made things grow awkward between them again. This time they locked arms which served as a little protection from the fresh cold that surrounded them and was far less awkward than holding hands. She ignored the glances she caught him giving her as he ignored her thoughtful silence.
"So all this snow makes me wonder," he began.
"Yes?" she asked him.
"What are you going to get me for Christmas?"
"You just had a birthday you spoiled brat." She teased him. This time, he recognized her tone as a joking one and took no offense.
"Yes, but I'm curious. I want to give you plenty of time to get me something really good."
"Well, what are you going to get for me?" she asked.
"It's a surprise." He tried. She laughed at him.
"You have no idea what I'd want, do you?"
"The same thing all other girls want: something pretty and expensive."
"Draco, Draco," she shook her head. "Haven't you learned anything about me?"
"I've got it! A book."
"Perhaps." She said thoughtfully. "Perhaps." She wondered that if she could really stump Draco if he might let her look at the Casus Malfoy book for Christmas. It was worth a try. She would have to ask later, of course. "First let's figure out what we're getting Neville."
"We?"
"I just made your family look saintly for them, now we have to make you look kindhearted and reformed for the Order."
"I see." He sounded grim. "Come one. We'll do a little early Christmas shopping while we look. That will make it more enjoyable for us both."
"Might as well." He consented.
The town stores knew Hogwarts students to do a great amount of their Christmas shopping there and were wisely already preparing for the holiday. The mood was already set in many of the places they went, warm cider being offered and holiday colors being put up in windows. It cast a merry light on the usual gloomy couple sentenced to an outing together. It was a pleasant surprise to find Draco enjoyed clothes shopping as much as she did, and it was quite a great change from the usual trip with Harry and Ron as well. Perhaps there were benefits to be had from his vanity.
Together they picked robes for his family's large, traditional Christmas supper at the manor. Hermione, upon Draco's insistence, actually agreed to wear red. She only agreed because it didn't make her look like a 'scarlet woman'. It was long, though it had a lengthy slit, and was made of velvet, a traditional style with a touch of Gothic in the sleeves. It fit her well and was not too revealing in the cleavage department, although Draco had observed rudely, yet jokingly, that he had no idea until she tried it on that she even had breasts. She had scowled and agreed to buy it mostly to prove him wrong and because that meant she could have a say in choosing his robes. He also insisted on purchasing the dress for her, whether because he was truly a gentleman or because he was playing one she could not tell. Either way she was appreciative and made sure he knew it after politely protesting. He seemed a bit embarrassed by this and moved on quickly to pick out his robes.
"We will not be gaudy and were red and green, just to inform you." He clarified straight away.
"Would it be embarrassing if we matched? If you had the same red touch to you tuxedo style robes?"
"Tuxedo?" he asked.
"Like this." She announced pulling one from the rack not unlike Harry's robes in third year. "I'll ask if they have anything."
"Does this resemble what you are after Sir?" the woman assisting them asked after a moment, taking a very nice looking suit, mostly black and satin by the looks of it, from the display window. It looked very expensive, but not too flashy at all. Indeed, the red matched hers to an exact hue. She smiled. Her looked at her and smiled back oddly at her easy to please nature. Then, he caught himself. He redirected his attention to the service woman, leaving Hermione looking confused.
"Can I be fitted for it?" he asked her.
"Certainly, but perhaps you should try it on first. Looks like it would be a good fit." How to explain to this woman his family had all their suits tailored? Hermione sent him a look that insinuated his family would never know the difference.
"Fine." He agreed, retreating to the back changing rooms. A few long moments later he emerged, pulling at the bottom and fidgeting with the sleeves. She could not seem to keep her eyebrows where they ought to be.
"what? There is no blasted mirror in there! How does it look?" he snapped. She walked up to him, took him by the shoulders and turned him to face the mirrors. He grinned widely and stood admiring himself for some time. She rolled her eyes. He turned back to her.
"What do you think?"
"You look terrible!" she exclaimed seriously, and his face fell a little. "Just kidding, it's dashing." She gave him a grin. The service woman seemed to think so too, so Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind and even dared to rest her chin there for a moment. She was as impressed with herself as Draco was with himself. To someone who had never seen them and knew nothing about them they might pass for a loving couple. They might actually believe that she enjoyed the feeling of her arms around his broad shoulders covered in his satiny suit, or that he enjoyed the smell of her hair so close to him. They did not of course. That would be inappropriate and weird. She couldn't say it felt particularly disgusting though. He turned and half looked at her questioningly and she stared at the mirror in response, indicating the sales clerk watching them closely. He nodded and straightened up. Only then did she realize that he had leaned into her touch. He really could be a good actor when he wanted to.
He paid for the suit and they left. Outside, she leaned over to say in his ear, "I think I'll drop in the bookstore. You don't have to come."
"Alright, I have to make a stop anyway. Want to meet back up for lunch in an hour or so?"
"Sure. The Three Broomsticks?"
"Yes, I don't think I could stomach that ungodly pink woman again." She laughed and nodded in agreement, then departed. She had quite a lot of work to do and little time in which to do it.
First she was off to the bookstore as she said, but then also to the magical beast emporium, the post office, and the apothecary. Then she was dashing off to the Three Broomsticks. She entered out of breath and spied her friends. They smiled and, whipping of her scarf, she nearly came over to them before she spotted Draco out of the corner of her eye and went over to him, not allowing the smile she had held for her friends to fall from her face.
Draco was brooding over a mug of butterbeer. Brooding. "Rough day?" she asked cautiously as she sat down across from him.
"Let's just order, shall we?" She tried very hard not to glance over at her friends.
"Alright." She agreed. "Let's." she sighed happily, or attempted to, and took a menu. "What looks good today?"
"Nothing as usual." was his sour reply.
"Look," she said, putting her menu down testily. "I don't know what crawled up your arse and died there in the last hour, but whatever it is please go to the bathroom and pull it out so we can have a nice pleasant lunch. I for one was having a highly tolerable day with you for a change and I'd rather you didn't ruin it. I am trying not to make you miserable, you know? The least you can do is return the favor, at least fake pleasantness. Now, what shall we order?" she asked, friendly again, picking back up her menu. A shocked looking Draco snorted with laughter.
"What?" she asked.
"Crawled up you arse and died there? Really Granger, when did you get a sense of humor? You go out and buy one."
She gave him a half smile and ordered lamb and potatoes. It was reasonably good and the two, as usual, devoured most of their meals in silence.
"You friends took it upon themselves to threaten me today."
"That's their way of being noble."
"How can you just excuse their behavior like that?" he said, disgusted.
"The same way you excuse your family's I suppose." She retorted calmly.
"Fair point." He tilted his head in acknowledgement. He enjoyed arguing far too much. "Are you finished?" he asked, putting down his napkin.
"Yes.' She answered, eager to get out of there.
"Good. I have one place left I want to go."
"Alone?"
"No," he smirked, but it was a light-hearted one she had come to distinguish. "I want to show it to you."
She could not help herself. She was intrigued and she followed like a lamb to the slaughter, casting a pitiful look back at her plate.
The place they arrived at about twenty minutes later was none other than in the infamous shrieking shack of which Hermione knew more than the legend. If his intention was an entertaining fright he was out of luck. She was well aware the real purpose of the most haunted dwelling in Britain was to serve as a clandestine location for Remus Lupin's transformation into a werewolf as a boy. She could never tell that to Draco of course.
"The shrieking Shack," he introduced. "The most haunted dwell in all of Great Britain. The wizard that lived here, hacked up his entire family one night. They say they could hear their screams from the village, but no one could get through the snow in time to help. By the time they got there, everyone had vanished, but there was blood everywhere."
"That's horrible. Why did he do it?"
"No one knows." He told her, looking serious. "Spooky, isn't it?" he asked, wagging his eyebrows and looking pleased.
"Tragic." She responded. That dampened his spirits.
"Want to check it out?"
"No!" exclaimed Hermione too quickly.
"Whoa, Granger. I thought you were in Gryffindor. Aren't you supposed to have the heart of a lion and all that?" he scoffed.
"I just don't think its very respectful is all. I mean, they died in there didn't they? You wouldn't want people trampling all over the ground-" She stopped, remembering his ancestor. For only a second, a dark look passed over his features.
"I guess not. But you sure know how to ruin a good time."
"Fine, let's go in." She said, passing him by and heading towards the house.
"What?" she smiled to herself to hear the alarm rise in his voice. He was only teasing. The coward had no intention of entering I in the first place, he only wanted to jest her. "I should be willing to try to do what you want I suppose since you were tolerable at dinner, so let's go in and see what all the fuss is about. Probably just a lot of nonsense," she chattered as she headed down the drive to the house. After a few moments of uninterrupted chatter, she stopped and turned to see where he was. He had not moved from his spot and was looking rather pale and motionless. She fought the urge to laugh. "Aren't you coming?"
"Well, on second thought, it looks dilapidated. We should probably steer clear just to be safe. We can't have you falling through any rotten floors can we?" he laughed weekly and waved for her to come back.
"Are you sure?" she asked turning to look at the house. "I really don't mind Draco."
"Yes! I mean, yes of course I'm sure. Come on, let's go visit Longbottom in the hospital wing before he's out." Wow he was really getting desperate.
"Okay." She sighed grinning to herself. He grabbed her wrist when she crossed the line where the gate used to be, pulling her up the hill towards him. Once she was there he pulled her close
and walked on, mumbling audibly to himself like Kreacher. "What were you thinking…could have died…probably saved you life…complete nutter…"
After they walked a while through the woods, he spoke again. "I've been in there you know?"
"Oh really?" she asked skeptically.
He nodded. "In first year."
"You didn't say that earlier."
"Well, it wasn't exactly a happy experience. The older kids, they locked me in there in an initiation sort of ritual. I passed though. Scared the bloody hell out of me to be honest."
She laughed with him, making light of it. "As long as we're being honest, I've been in there too."
"You have?"
"Yes. My circumstances were a bit different." She had been over it a hundred times in her head. She was sure she could tell him. He already knew Lupin was a werewolf, already Lupin and Black were friends, and that a Sirius was Harry's godfather. He must have known all along that Sirius wasn't a Death Eater and it must be obvious about Scabbers, or Pettigrew. So she told him the whole exciting tale.
"Pettigrew faked his own death and blamed Black? Makes sense now. And I always thought he was so daft."
"He's a terrible coward!" Hermione cried in indignation.
"Yes, but it was clever you have to admit."
"So you actually saw him transform?"
"Yes?"
"What was it like?"
"Frightening." She admitted.
"And Potter really fought of all those dementors?" he asked. She had not elaborated on the time turner.
"Well, yes." He said nothing.
"Do you love him?" he asked abruptly.
"Harry? Well, yes of course as a friend."
"Oh. Then its Weasley you're in love with then?" he asked bitterly.
"I am not in love with Ronald Weasley. He's just a friend."
"Does he know that?" She blushed but did not answer. "Have you ever had boyfriend, Granger?"
"Well, yes. Vik-" she couldn't finish that sentence. Viktor. Her friend. The handsome young Bulgarian who had liked to watch her study. He was gone. Her eyes well with tears.
"What's the matter with you?" Draco's voice was a collage of pity, disgust, concern, and panic. He seemed unable to handle a crying fiancée. He took her by the shoulers. She wiped her eyes and looked away.
"Nothing." She told him.
"Krum?" he asked her plainly. She nodded. She felt like an idiot, but she could not help it. "I'm sorry," he sighed.
She looked up at him, angry. "You knew?"
"I know. Father wrote to me. I don't know why, only that he was executed for treason against the Dark Lord. There is no walking away from him, Hermione." Draco looked into her eyes, willing her to see something she could not. She lowered her head, tears spilling over. They did not embrace. He did not cradle her lovingly and whisper meaningless words of comfort in her ear. She simply leaned on him, pressing her forehead to his chest. His gloved hand rested lightly on her shoulders. They only thing the two shared was the air as they breathed together quietly for a while. He let her grieve and ignored her tears so she would not feel ashamed and somehow it made it all a lot easier in a way that made no sense. He allowed his body to hold up her own with an appropriate distance in between so that there was no awkward pulling away once she recovered. It seemed to be the only thing he could think to do with her. Yet somehow it was intimate. His silence made her feel as though she could not hear her and she wept openly. He waited patiently, understandingly while giving her space. That was all she could expect of him she supposed. As it turned out, that was all she really needed. She pulled herself up to full height and let the cold wind dry her cheeks. Taking deep breaths, she began walking the direction they had been headed earlier. He walked on beside her and made no comment about it. At all. No weird apology, no joke, nothing. She appreciated it and let him no in a sniffling smile. He returned in it with his own uncomfortable, almost shy, one. It made her laugh, which was easy to do when she had been crying. This took him by surprise.
"Come on," she sad trying to return to the lightheartedness she had felt earlier. "Let's race back." She took off, racing ahead. For a moment he looked at her as if she were mad or just foolish, but, having nothing better to do and no audience, inexplicably joined in. His goal did not seem to be
front gate of the Shrieking shack however. As he neared, she squealed once at his approach and again as he grabbed her around the waist lifting her slight frame from the ground a little ways as all boys love to do. She kicked wildly about and the two collapsed into the snow. She scurried away only to be hit, hard, in the back of the head with a snowball causing her to turn around in false outrage.
"That was for knocking me over." She scoffed and threw one back. "Pitiful Granger!" He threw another that hit her right in the mouth. Apparently, he was using a spell. That was a good one, she needed to learn it she made mental note. Completely impulsively, frustrated as she was having no success in the snowball fight, she lunged toward him, covering him with snow and sacking him to the ground with a thud that made him groan. They began to wrestle roughly in the powder for a moment before she escaped, laughing, and wondering vaguely if it was all really happening. Did she just hit Draco with a snowball? Did he laugh? Were they just – just playing? This must be a dream, a very strange dream, or a nightmare. She had no time to ponder this further before a roaring Draco grabbed her again and she screamed for help, laughing. People would definitely think the shack was haunted now with all the weird sounds coming from this area today.
Everything stopped. Draco was looking at her, panting and out of breath, face flushed and hair covered lightly in fresh snow flakes. They fell down into his eyelashes. She realized how close she was, how tightly he was holding her. She looked down automatically. His head dipped forward and she had the weirdest sensation. Had he? Yes, he had just licked a snow flake from her eyelash. She tried to back away, but he held her in place. No panic rose in her chest, yet. Then she looked up, following his gaze. There it hung a branch. Damn. Mistletoe. Oh horror of horrors. What were the chances?
"I've just had this idea Granger."
"What's that?" she asked with false bravado she knew not why she needed. She wondered if he noticed.
"We are going to married and we've never kissed."
"We kissed today." She corrected him.
"That wasn't real. I put my hand in between us."
"What about our engagement party?" she asked.
"That was hardly a kiss and you know it. What's the matter Granger? Scared?"
"Of kissing you?"
"Yes."
She laughed as if the idea was ludicrous, but she knew it wasn't entirely. "Yes," she answered sarcastically. "I'm afraid you might turn into a toad." She teased.
"Does that mean I'm a prince?"
"Hardly."
"Well come on then, let's see if any sparks fly, as they say." He leaned forward.
"No!" she jerked back.
"Afraid you'll fall in love with me?"
"No. I just don't want to kiss you is all."
"Why not?"
"I just don't."
"Find me unattractive?"
"Not exactly."
"Well then what's the problem? You might just like it."
"I don't kiss men who don't respect me."
"Who says I don't respect you?"
"Do you?" It was her turn to be utterly taken aback.
"You have your moments." He said with a light toss of the head. It might not be much, but coming from him and to her she was well aware that was quite a compliment. Still, boys would say anything…
"Just one kiss. Is that so much to ask?"
"Yes."
"Come on, kiss me." He requested plainly and unexpectedly humble, looking her dead in the eye.
"No." she answered simply, shaking her head in amusement at the nonsensicality of the proposal.
"Kiss me." He tried demanding harshly, and though it made her breath hitch she still maintained a solid 'no'. So he got absolutely ridiculous. Pouting, he said pathetically, making her laugh, "Kiss me?" Still she refused, growing quite amused with this show.
"Kiss me!" he yelled to the grey sky and she turned around trying to escape like it was another game. He grabbed her wrists roughly to stop her. "Kiss me." He ducked in towards her attempting to steal a chaste kiss just to defy her, but she successfully dodged him time and time again, leaving him smooching thin air with loud, exaggerated smacks. Now, his competitive nature and stubborn side really came out. Draco Mafoy was not one for backing down. It became quite a challenge to avoid his playful yet determined advances as the sport grew rougher and both began to get agitated with the stalemate.
Tearing away from him at last, she laughed breathlessly, evading him as lunged forward voicing his request as he did, missing her and landing flat on the ground, embarrassed. Without hesitation, she wheeled and fled, still giggling as behind her he began to run after her. He chased her like a beast after his prey growling, "Kiss me!" in an absurd manner. Through the woods they blindly darted and ducked. Anyone watching may thing she was really being chased by a young man forcing his lust upon her save the occasional accidental laughter, for both had such an air seriousness about their little contest. Indeed, each was barely sure of how genuine the other was in their part. He antagonizing her while she frustratingly denied him his desire was nothing out of the ordinary, but now their comedy was portrayed in such outrageousness she almost thought for a moment she might being enjoying herself in Draco's company.
Finally, he rounded a bend before her and she fell into him. He looked right at her, eyes smoldering ever so slightly, and requested with a sigh one last time: "Kiss me." Without warning, somewhere inside her, where she had never felt so much as a ruffle before, she began to feel the pull of attraction toward the forbidden; for against all previous thoughts, against all logical, all good reason and morals, she found that she actually wanted to kiss him. She wanted for those last few inches between them to be compromised and eliminated, to be close enough to feel the heat burning off his face an its pure intensity. She scolded herself, knowing it was wrong, fully aware she should not want such a thing at all. Certain it would only hurt later. It hurt now, the desire alone, the guilt. She wanted it so badly and inexplicably that she could not let it happen.
Her lips sealed tightly, she shook her head with a coy smile.
"Spoil sport." He rolled his eyes at her, giving up perhaps bored. She had to give him credit for the effort though. They two headed back towards the Shrieking Shack, or tried to. They soon realized they had managed to get themselves quite turned around during their little excursion. An hour of grumbling later, the two trod, soaked up to their knees from trudging through snow in circles, into town where the sun was setting and caught a carriage back to the castle. Both of them were in foul moods when they returned and both were secretly relieved when Madam Pomfrey told them that Neville was not having visitors today and to come back tomorrow.
"First thing after classes tomorrow," Hermione began.
"I know, I know." Draco grumbled, plopping down on the couch for the evening. Was today the same day he had tried to kiss her? The same day that she had almost let him? As before, a stranger would never have guessed the truth.
A/N: Thanks for reading! So they had one day together at last and almost a kiss. No, they are not rushing in, don't worry. I have many more twists and turns left in the plot to unfold. How did you like this chapter? What's next? Please let me know!