Chapter Five: Shock

"Hey, Granger!"

Hermione heard Ginny beside her grumble, "What is the ferret playing at?" Hermione shot a glare in the redhead's direction, despite the nerves that were currently upsetting her breakfast.

"Good morning Draco," Hermione sang, her eyes lighting up as she turned to face the approaching blonde. Their whole plan rode on the next three minutes. She had to make it believable.

The look on Ginny's face showed absolute disgust when Hermione scooted closer to make room for Draco to sit down with them.

He rested a hand on Hermione's back (slightly lower than she approved of) and reached for a piece of her toast.

"I brought that book that we talked about last night," he stated while handing over a small blue book with the title 'Twelfth Night' across the cover.

For a moment, her expression held a hint of panic and he was worried she wouldn't be able to play along with how he decided to break the public conversation barrier.

She only missed a beat, "I can't believe that you've read books by muggle authors!"

"I'm more surprised I've read a book you haven't, muggle or not," he laughed slightly too perfectly.

Ginny's eyes grew wider and Hermione could feel Harry's dumbfounded gaze from further down the table where he sat beside Ron.

"Don't get too comfortable, I'll have this finished by the end of the week." The brunette witch placed a hand softly on the blonde's knee. "Thank you for the book," she added sweetly.

Her touch, however chaste, was uncomfortable and too much. They had made their point, he needed to leave now. He needed to find a calming draught before classes started.

Instead, he asked, "Would you like to walk to class together?"

Hermione awkwardly smiled catching Ginny's confused glare in her peripheral vision. Keeping her fire-lit eyes focused on the man in front of her, Hermione tried her best to remain calm and collected. "Uhhhh, I need to visit the library before class, but I'll catch you in Arithmancy."

"Right, see you," Draco replied awkwardly, excusing himself from the table with a polite nod.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ginny practically yelled.

"Please, don't make a scene."

Ginny's volume dropped but her tone remained crazed. "You had a normal conversation with Draco sodding Malfoy in the great hall. Are you absolutely mad!"

"I've gotten to really know Draco this term and he really isn't that bad. He– he can actually be quite kind sometimes. He walks with me around the castle when it's too late to walk around alone."

"Hermione Jean Granger, do you mean to tell me you've been hanging around with Draco Malfoy all year and I'm just now finding this out?"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. At first, it didn't seem like anything worth mentioning. It took time to get used to," Hermione admitted.

"And how is it different now?" Ginny inquired.

"Now I trust him. I have feelings for him that I can't explain, Ginny. We talked about it last night. We're together now. We've just decided." The last part caused Hermione's cheeks to turn a light shade of pink.

Ginny's gaze bore into Hermione's eyes searching for a stitch of sarcasm or dishonesty, but found none. Hermione's eyes were schooled into an impassive stare that was so close to sincerity that no one would question it.

"Wow, Hermione, I can't say I saw this coming," the redhead sighed.

"My first class is charms with Harry, I was going to tell him first thing if he hasn't figured it out already. Don't confirm anything until then?" Hermione pleaded.

Ginny nodded, "You have until lunch today. After that, I won't avoid any questions that are thrown my way. I expect everyone will know before dinner tonight."

The path to Charms was long but well-known. The soft steps of Hermione's feet carried her without conscious direction.

It had been a successful first encounter considering all the plan entailed. Once her and Malfoy began doing things more publicly, Ron would be enraged, she knew it.

Today he had only touched her back and she had barely placed a hand on the innocent part of his leg, yet Ginny had thrown a fit.

And Ginny was relatively easy compared to how she expected Harry and Ron to react when they found out. Hermione half expected Harry to shout at her, asking her to change her mind, or disbelieving her altogether. Ron, she hoped, would turn an unattractive shade of puce and take to threatening the Slytherin, or throw an embarrassing fit in front of the whole school.

But just thinking about those small touches set Hermione on fire. Her body was hot with anxiety. Her hands wanted to shake as her heartbeat increased to a rapid pace.

She had wanted nothing of this physical sort, but his argument for them to physically interact made sense. That still didn't make it easy for her. She simply hadn't really been physical with a boy before, even this innocently. Other than the few shy encounters she'd had with Viktor in fourth year before Ron chased him away at the ball, Hermione had absolutely no experience with boys. She wasn't striking like Ginny or willing like Pansy; Hermione had never really been the object of a man's desire.

As much as she wanted to blame it on lack of opportunity, Hermione was also unsure if she really was comfortable allowing many of her firsts to be with someone she didn't actually care about.

For years as a child, Hermione dreamed about the first time she would hold a boy's hand, the first time she'd be asked on a date, and the first boy she'd call her boyfriend. It felt so wrong to allow Malfoy take all of these firsts, essentially robbing her of those moments she thought would be special.

She'd have to accept that her younger self's romantic fantasies would not be at all how she imagined.

Hermione decided that she and Draco would have to practice the physical stuff in private. This morning it had taken everything she had to maintain the flirty smile and wishfully twinkling eyes. Right now, Hermione wasn't confident she wouldn't twitch if he reached to hold her hand. If they were going to make this believable, they would have to shake the awkwardness she felt today, especially if she really wanted to set Ron off on a jealous tirade.

Arriving at the plain brown door of the Charms classroom, Hermione took a deep, steadying breath. Before she could make Ron truly jealous, she had to tell Harry.

When Hermione finally stepped inside the classroom, she was disgusted to see Ron and Lavender snogging at their chosen desk in the back of the classroom. She forced herself not to look for very long for fear that someone would notice her discomfort. She spotted Harry toward the front and quickly made her way to sit next to him.

The raven-haired boy was so wrapped up in his Potions textbook that he only greeted her with a nod and a simple "hey."

For a brief moment, she panicked, thinking that maybe he had somehow found out already. But then she remembered that, if that were the case, his anger would manifest in ways far more violent than the silent treatment.

How does one start a conversation like this? How do you tell your best friend you're dating his worst enemy? How do you flat-out lie to your best friend? How do you handle the guilt that is sure to follow?

Professor Flitwick was calling the class to attention before she had collected her thoughts well enough to say anything. It would have to be during the lesson, she concluded. They were set to be working on Glamour charms. These were the spells that could be used to alter the appearance of simple physical features: making cheeks rosier, hiding blemishes, or changing hair and eye colors. Most girls in their year wanted to learn the charm so they could improve their appearance. Hermione wouldn't deny that the charm had many uses. This lesson was one of the most anticipated lessons of the semester for these reasons.

As always, Professor Flitwick began with a demonstration of the wand movements before coaching them through what phrase to say. They were set to practice by attempting to change the color of the hair on a doll's head. Once each pair succeeded, they were encouraged to attempt to change their partner's hair color.

Unfortunately, Harry and Hermione had already made it to this stage before the witch could summon enough courage to broach the subject of dating Malfoy. Well, she was aided in part by him talking about the Slytherin, first. Harry was on another one of his Malfoy-is-a-Death-Eater bends.

"I can't believe Flitwick is teaching us this spell."

"Professor Flitwick, Harry," corrected Hermione with a stern look.

"Don't you think this is bad? He's teaching Malfoy how to disguise himself. And, not to mention, any other junior Death Eaters there are sleeping in the Dungeons."

Instead of the light brown shade Hermione was intending, Harry's hair turned a violent shade of dark red at her Glamour. Bugger, she thought. Damn emotional magic.

Harry still hadn't been successful at changing the color of her hair from its usual brown. He lowered his wand as he looked in the mirror at his new appearance, then her annoyed expression aimed at him.

"Oi, Hermione. What's with the red?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"You're being ridiculous Harry, there aren't any Death Eaters in the dungeons," Hermione asserted. She could feel her frustration and annoyance abounding in her veins. She needed to control her temper if she wanted to have this conversation calmly.

"Oh, you're right. I think the Snakes have Defense right now–

"Will you shut it, Harry?!" It came out louder than she intended and leaked more of her anger than she wanted.

Some of the nearby Gryffindors were staring. The feeling made her wonder if this is what zoo animals felt like all the time.

Noticing the attention, Harry refocused his wand on Hermione's hair despite in an attempt to show that they were focused on work. She still saw his shoulders growing tense.

"Do you have a problem, Hermione?" Harry seethed through clenched teeth, his white-hot anger radiating.

"Yes, in fact, I do." It's now or never, like a bandaid, she thought. I'm a Gryffindor. "Harry, You're not going to like it, but I have something to tell you."

"Fine then, get on with it."

Her heart was pounding so hard, she thought that he surely must be able to hear it, even over the loud chatter of students around them.

"I'm dating Malfoy, er, Draco, I mean–

Hermione barely had time to duck before the white beam that shot from Harry's wand would have hit her. Instead, Seamus' hair ignited in a smouldering puff of smoke as he took the Glamour-gone-wrong that was intended for her head.

"You're WHAT?!"

"Blimey, Harry!" Roared the Irishman's heavy voice.

Harry was completely unapologetic. His eyes were fiercely on her and he had stood from his seat, sending his chair toppling over backward.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter, I think you may want to return to practicing on the doll," quavered Professor Flitwick's high-pitched voice. "Mr. Thomas, would you please escort Mr. Finnegan to the hospital wing? It should be an easy fix."

Harry's eyes never left their place on Hermione's, "You may want to send Hermione, too, sir. She's gone off her trolley, barking mad."

"Harry, I have no–

"Malfoy, Hermione?!" His name came out of the red-headed-Harry's mouth dripping with revulsion. He set his wand down roughly on the table. She saw the simple action for what it was: a conscious attempt to make sure he didn't curse her.

"Mr. Potter–

But the little, old professor cut himself off at Harry's apologetic, pleading glance. Harry was thankful that some professors understood that sometimes, students need to work through their problems on their own. Still, he returned his piercing glare. Hermione wouldn't dare look away from the furious face of her best friend, but she knew everyone was looking at them now. Every sixth-year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw was listening in.

"Yes, Harry," she tried. "He isn't that bad actually. We've been spending lots of time together–

Harry's green eyes flashed instantly to the back of the classroom, surely looking for Ron. She hoped that his face looked equally enraged but dared not to look.

"Sorry, Professor," Harry's voice volunteered confidently. "We'll get back to work."

Hermione also muttered a soft apology as, to her astonishment, Harry sat down with a cool sense of calm. Or so she thought.

The moment the class returned back to work, Harry cast a Muffliato and rounded on her once again. "So Ron wasn't joking?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The other night, after the Quidditch match, he came back to our dormitory ranting about something I couldn't understand. I caught your name and 'holding hands' and I thought you two had finally gotten together or something, but then I thought I heard him say 'Malfoy,' too and I was too confused to put it all together."

She didn't miss that he'd said 'finally gotten together' as if he had been expecting that too. Hermione couldn't think about that line of thought now, though.

"Why now?" Harry implored. "If you've been hanging around him all term, why come out with it now?"

"I didn't want to get in the way of our little trio. None of us had ever really dated, and especially because it was Malfoy, I wasn't sure how you would take it," explained Hermione, mentally hating herself for the lie.

"What changed then?"

"Well, when Ron kissed Lavender, you– you seemed okay about it, I just thought that it would be okay if I dated, too." The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but it was necessary. It was a flavor she assumed she should get used to.

"I don't care if you date in general, but not Malfoy."

She shook her head, "That's not your decision to make."

"He's bad for you. He's not a good guy. He's manipulative and rude and… He's probably using you, Hermione. You know how his lot is. They're vindictive and abusive and–

"I assure you, Harry, I appreciate your concern, but this is my decision to make and my decision only. I like Draco." She forced herself to blush while maintaining the sincerity and fierceness of her facial expression. His given name felt weird on her lips. "He's been really nice to me all term. He's respectful and a gentleman and yes, he can be the ultimate snarky prat sometimes, but not in the awful way he used to be. I. Like. Him."

It felt odd to be defending Malfoy's character, but it felt even odder to realize that it was all honest. Well, other than liking him, of course.

"But He's a Death Ea–

"Harry." It was stern and her lips were spread into a thin line. Her eyes were strong and unblinking as she demanded his focused gaze. "Not another word about my boyfriend."

At that, Harry finally shut up.

Guilt for lying to two of her best friends tried to consume the witch but she pushed the feeling deep down refusing to let it ruin the plan.

.

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A/N: Ahhhh lies... How great, how terrible, and how importantly moving for my plot. Forgive me, I think it is only fitting that Hermione and Draco are a little awkward around each other at first. After all, most school-age relationships begin that way, even without the added element of mutual hate. I hope you enjoyed the first taste of our couple, much, MUCH, more is to come – I promise.

Love to Rachelletwin2 and gray-jedi-scavenger-rey for helping me with this chapter. Rachelletwin2 is so patient with my last-minute edits (I've had this written and proofed for months but decided to move things around at the last minute). As always, any remaining errors are my own.

I've been asked why I sometimes use British English and sometimes use American spellings/terms so I thought I'd put an explanation out here. I'd love for it to be all one way or another, but I also want to keep it realistic for the characters in the story (they're British, after all). I am from the United States, but attended University in England, so some little things I am better at catching than others. In all honesty, I switch between the two in my real-life essays, emails, and texts all the time. So, sorry. If you have a strong preference or would like to brit-pick for me, send me a message.

Please read, favorite, and review!

Disclaimer: All publically recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling.

Many thanks to anyone who takes the time to read this story, OxfordElise