A/N: Omg, I'm so sorry! I wanted to get this chapter up sooner, but I've had some difficulties with my computer. Long story short: I got a trojan so I was afraid to use my computer at all! Ah! It's no excuse but...
This chapter is rather short. I know this, but, it seemed like an appropriate cut off and I didn't want to keep you all waiting longer than you already have. Thanks for your reviews last chapter. It really meant a lot to me. Hee, thanks to those who are reading this and have recently added me to your story alerts and fav. story lists. It really touches me that I'm getting so much support. Thanks again Hee. Okays, on with the story.
Disclaimer: Same as first chapter
Chapter
The Great Hall was already filled with students when they entered. Foods of all sorts were laid out on the tables and students were busy chattering away. Even the teachers seemed to enjoy the rather carefree mood the Great Hall provided.
She sighed happily as she sat down. If there was one place the remained neutral in the ongoing war between the students, it was the Great Hall. It had been agreed upon that the hall would remain neutral ground after an incident involving a rather ugly food fight. Even the teachers enforced this rule as they observed closely the happenings of the hall. Were a student to get out of hand…well, they'd be looking forward to a week or more of hell with Snape and the mere mention of Snape was enough to make any student shiver in fear. Thus, the Great Hall became like the "Demilitarized Zone" between the two sides. To Hermione, at least, it was a relief that she could eat in peace.
Still, the hall was quieter, not in noise, but in mirth. Tension hung in the air as students and teachers alike read news about the increasing boldness of Voldemort and the growing number of families that were lost.
Ginny sent her a small smile and a wave from two seats away. Hungry, Hermione grabbed a plate of chicken and rice. She was starving and, after the lesson in History, she figured she deserved a good meal.
"I heard about what happened in History. The whole school is talking about it," Ginny whispered excitedly as she moved to sit by her comrade.
The youngest Weasley had become gorgeous over the summer but was considered a "look but not touch" item by the school. This was due to the various death threats which hung over the man who so ever broke her heart or looked at her the wrong way. There was one brother in school, but boy did the other brothers seem to pop out of no where when one was walking down Diagon Alley. Besides, no one wanted to be on the bad side of the Weasley twins: pranksters extraordinaire.
Hermione groaned. "I'm never going to hear the end of it, am I?"
"Well, you are sporting a rather nasty bruise there Hermione," Ron piped up from across the table. "You sure you don't want to get that checked?"
"I'll be fine," she replied, exasperated at the number of times they had asked her. After Harry's original inquiring of her wellness, seven more proceeded it, two from Harry himself, three from Ron, one from a passerby first year who reminded her of the female version of Neville, one from Draco Malfoy himself who gave her a smirk in the hall way on her way to the Great Hall to ask if she did not need assistance in getting rid of that horrible mark which donned her neck, and finally the now eight inquiry from Ginny. To say the least, it was annoying.
She finished her lunch well enough. No one brought up Madame Pomfrey again and she remained rather quiet throughout the whole meal, only adding to the conversation here and there. Those around Hermione knew not to bring up History while others did not. Thus, Hermione received various congratulations, much to her annoyance, but she couldn't help but smile too. Apparently her act had made many others happy.
After lunch, she decided to begin working on the project Professor Binns had assigned them. Harry and Ginny had long given up patronizing Hermione's study habits, but Ron still insisted on commenting.
"We got the bloody assignment today! That gives us the whole week to work on it! Why not wait until tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that?" Ron exclaimed wildly waving his arms franticly to stress the importance of his message.
"Because then I'll become like you: a slacker," she teased, sticking out her tongue as she grabbed her bag. The library awaited her.
The assignment seemed simple enough. She would simply need to gather information on one of the ancient seven, write the paper, and leave. Of course being Hermione though, she wanted a challenge. That's how she chose the Angelus. She knew no one else would. It was a taboo subject. The muggle and half-blood students could never obtain adequate information and the purebloods avoided the subject all together. She smiled at the thought of succeeding where no other student had succeeded before. Giddy, she dropped her bag and went to complete her quest.
Three hours later Hermione Granger, Queen of Research, Finder of Information and Great Explorer into the Recesses of the Library had failed to find one bit of information on the Angelus.
She wanted to hex something. Oh, she had found general information, information that everyone knew about, but she found nothing noteworthy, nothing extraordinary. She looked at her notes.
-The books all listed that the Angelus family was the first of the seven ancient lines not for its wealth, but for its power. The Angelus family held all the other lines in order so that they all bowed to the Angelus. (To give a visual, if the ancient lines were a society they would have a monarchy with the Angelus at the top: the king.)
-In recent years, all information on the Angelus is nearly nonexistent to the point where people speculate on the actual existence of the Angelus. The Angelus is now more of a myth than an actual person, something to scare little kids with, like the boogie man.
-The last known Angelus was Marcus Angelus. He was known to have served the Dark Lord and to have died during the First War. It is unknown if he was married or if a legitimate or illegitimate heir was conceived.
She looked at her notes rather depressed. She had never in her memory failed to fill a page of notes, even in grade school, and currently her notes did not even fill a foot of parchment. Disheartened, she decided to retire to her rooms and work on her Arithmacy assignment from earlier that day.
She slowly made her way to the Head Dormitory. It was pleasant enough she supposed. Both Malfoy and she made their best effort to avoid one another. It was mutually agreed upon the first day, well, rather, mutually understood. They never spoke a word to each other that first day in their common room. They simply exchanged insults and understood that they were not to invade on each other's time. So, during the first few weeks Hermione vigorously memorized Draco's schedule and habits and he did the same to her.
Thus to her surprise, Draco was in their common room. He looked at her almost startled. It was not often they ran into each other outside of class. His look of surprise though quickly turned into a sneer so that one questioned the presence of the other emotion ever being upon his dainty little pureblooded face. "Granger"
"Malfoy," she replied in an equally cool tone.
They stood silent for a while, observing on another. She concluded that he was going out to do rounds. Tomorrow was Slytherin's day at the pitch, so it was unlikely that he was going out to participate in…extracurriculars unless he was feeling…ambitious.
Aware of this knowledge, she still decided to pursue her line of questioning. "Going to find a bed warmer Malfoy?" she asked amused at her own joke.
"As I've always told you Granger, you're welcome anytime," he replied looking her up and down. She knew he was joking and he knew she knew that he was joking. He looked at her in challenge: how far are you willing to go? She met his challenge: as far as you'll take me.
He smirked. "Tsk Tsk Granger," Malfoy said as he slowly made his way towards her, pausing only when he was an inch away from her body. He wagged his finger at her nose and a sinister smile graced his lips. "As a mudblood," he said in the same tone he would have said Granger. "You should jump at every opportunity," he slowly undid her tie. "You're presented with." His lips were dangerously close to her ear and his hand had found its way to her blouse. He continued, "Otherwise that opportunity may never come."
There was a moment of silence. His hand didn't move. There was no rustling of clothes, of buttons being unbuttoned and buttoned. There was only the soft sound of life entering and leaving the body, the soul.
She met his gaze and her words were spoken gently, like the passing wind; it was not a disturbance to the silence which surrounded them. It was merely an accompaniment to the puffs of breath which left them. "Oh, those girls. I believe we call them sluts. I'm sure you're rather familiar with them."
He looked at her, not in anger, but in what she considered amusement. He gave her a slow, rather lethargic smile. "You know Granger, were you a Slytherin I would say that's rather cleaver of you."
With that, he gazed at her once more, took a step back and walked away.
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