“So, when Katie was reaching for the pitcher of juice, she turned to look at Angelina who had just said something really clever.” Ron paused to watch as Harry finally decided to move his pawn.
“And that gave George the opportunity that he had been waiting for,” Harry continued for Ron.
“George charmed the pitcher to look like a giant beetle. Katie didn’t notice until she was about to pour her self a glass.” Ron grinned at Hermione. “And what does one do when they discover that their pitcher of juice now looks remarkably like a huge fat beetle with wiggling antennas and everything?” Ron asked Harry.
“She threw it.” Harry said quickly. “Right at Fred, although that could have been an accident.”
“You might think that a beetle couldn’t really knock someone unconscious.” Ron paused to scrutinize the chessboard. “But the charm George used only made the pitcher look like a beetle.”
Harry frowned as Ron took a knight before he said, “It was still, in fact, a heavy pitcher of juice.”
“And that is why my dear older brother is now spending the afternoon in the hospital wing.”
“And Katie isn’t speaking to George,” Harry added.
Hermione pulled the scarlet quilt tighter around her shoulders, she was still dripping wet, Harry and Ron had both insisted that she sit and listen to them retell their very exciting morning that she had missed. “Will he be all right?” She asked with a slight twinge of worry.
“Oh he’ll be fine, Fred has a hard head.” Ron took Harry’s king.
Harry look nonplussed over his defeat and grinned and Ron, “it must be a Weasley trait.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ron sniffed with disapproval sounding incredibly like Hermione.
Hermione unfolded herself from the sofa she had been perched upon and pushed her wet sleeves up. “Well if you don’t mind, I’m going to go find something dry to wear.”
“Where were you anyway?” Harry asked.
Ron stopped setting up the pieces for the next game and looked Hermione up and down again, “you look like you had a fight with the giant squid and I’d wager all of my chocolate frogs I’ve got leftover from Christmas that you won.”
“I was…I was just working on my Arithmancy project.” Hermione became very interested in the intricate gold brocade lion on the front of the red blanket she had been using.
“Oh,” both boys said together.
Hermione glanced up at them to see Ron mouth “Malfoy” and Harry nod in agreement.
“Look, what we’re doing is really important.” Hermione felt herself begin to flush though since the last hour of their time together had had nothing to do with class work.
As if reading her thoughts Ron made a gagging sound in the back of his throat, “ehh, Hermione, we don’t want to know.”
Hermione scowled at them both and walked across the common room to the girls’ stairwell, she looked back at them expecting to see Ron glaring darkly at her, but her friends were once again deep into a chess match. She smiled then as she watched them, they had known who she had been with, and neither of them seemed upset. They had become almost accepting. It was probably because they thought she had just gone a little crazy being a young, teenage girl. But if that made things easier for them to handle, Hermione didn’t mind.
Hermione crawled onto her bed and pulled the thick, warm quilt up to her chin. Her clean wet hair was pulled up on top of her head in a knot that would never have stayed in place had she been a muggle girl. She had to admit; Lavender and Parvarti did know a few good tricks. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet but Hermione was thinking about just how good it would be to take a nap. Thunder rumbled distantly from outside the tower and Hermione snuggled deeper, even more of a reason to stay in bed.
The spell had worked. Hermione grinned widely. They had done it. They had found something to stop the killing curse, well Cruciatus, at the very least. They wouldn’t know for sure if it would stop Avada Kedavra until someone actually used it against that fearsome curse. And from what Draco said, the O’Leary spell took so much energy to maintain, it would only work for a few minutes. But it was better than nothing, amazingly better. Why, with this spell, new spells could be formed on its foundation. Maybe one day there would actually be a counter-curse.
Yes, it had been a good morning. Well, casting Cruciatus on Draco had been very trying. She had never, in even the most far-reaching edges of her imagination, ever thought that she would cast such a spell. But it had worked out for the best; she hadn’t hurt him, not really. And now they knew for certain.
Then there had been after the spell. Under the trees, cowering from the rain together. Hermione sighed softly. It was safe to say that she was beginning to accept the fact that when it came to Draco, she was experiencing feelings that she never had before. But was this a good thing? What if their flirtation went to far? What if she fell in love with him? What if he didn’t want her?
There was the tiniest of knocks at her door. Hermione sat up as Ginny Weasley leaned cautiously around the edge of the door and peered nervously in.
“It’s just me Ginny,” Hermione called out from her bed. Ginny had been avoiding Lavender and Parvarti ever since she had saved Hermione from their clutches a week ago.
Ginny stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. Her face was pale and she looked worried. Her red plaited hair had begun to fall out and a fine sheen of sweat shone on her face as if she had just run here.
“Ginny?” Hermione climbed off her bed, “is there something wrong?”
“Hermione, I…” but Ginny’s voice faded off as she nervously studied her friend.
“What is it? What’s happened? Is everyone all right?” Hermione’s voice rose in panic at Ginny’s silence.
“No, no one’s hurt. It’s just, well I went to the owlery to send a letter off to mum.” Ginny chewed on her bottom lip as she decided to continue, “oh Hermione, I saw Malfoy there kissing that Slytherin girl.”
“Pansy?” Hermione asked numbly.
Ginny nodded miserably.
“Are you sure?” Hermione asked numbly, her imagination suddenly supplying her mind with images of Draco kissing Pansy. Kissing her in the library, in their common room, outside on the grounds. Hermione saw him kissing Pansy in everyplace that he had ever kissed her.
Ginny nodded again. “Are you okay?” She asked stepping forward.
Hermione shook her head, trying to clear her mind. “I…I’m fine Ginny,” she said finally.
The concerned expression that the youngest Weasley wore obviously belied this.
“I’m fine Ginny, really, why should I care if Malfoy wants to kiss that pug faced little twit?” Hermione felt like her throat was closing up.
“Hermione,” Ginny went to touch Hermione’s shoulder but the other girl stepped back.
“You know Ginny, I’m really tired, I think I’m going to lay down for a little while.”
“Hermione,” Ginny pleaded, her eyes large with worry.
“Ginny,” Hermione clasped her friend’s hands in her own, “I’m all right, really. It’s just Malfoy after all.”
Ginny frowned but eventually nodded, “all right, I guess I’ll leave you alone then.”
Hermione waited until Ginny had pulled the door closed behind her before walking back to her bed. She lay down and curled up, tucking her knees under chin. She sniffed softly, trying very hard not cry. But honestly, what had she expected anyway?
She paced nervously outside of the Arithmancy classroom. Hermione had avoided Draco for several days. She hadn’t left the tower for fear of Draco tracking her down and she didn’t think she could handle seeing him at the moment. Hermione hadn’t even gone to the Great Hall for meals, she told Ron and Harry that she was feeling a little under the weather and they had left it at that. Ginny knew better of course, she never spoke of it, but she brought back toast for Hermione from every meal. Hermione had stayed tucked away in her own common room, safe from the likes of Draco Malfoy, but now she had no choice but to face him.
She took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Hermione paused to apologize to Professor Vector being late. Several of her fellow students looked up and followed her progress as she climbed the steps and sat down in her seat next to Malfoy.
“Now that we’re all here, let’s begin,” Professor Vector began to write something on the board.
As soon as Hermione was settled in her chair, Draco turned to her.
“Where have you been?” He hissed angrily.
Hermione pulled out a roll of parchment and a dark green quill. She looked forward and ignored Draco. He wasn’t to be put off, however. He grabbed her arm and jerked her around so that she was looking at him.
“I thought there was something wrong with you, I thought you were hurt or sick!” He hissed angrily, his originally low voice rising high enough so that the students nearest them turned to look.
Hermione jerked her arm away from him and snapped, “The only thing wrong with me is you!”
Draco looked shocked and angry, “what are you talking about?” Hermione had turned away from him again. “Hermione, what is it?” He growled at her, virtually every student in the classroom had abandoned their parchments and were watching them.
“Why don’t you ask Pansy?” Hermione replied nastily.
“Is there a problem?” An annoyed voice cut through their argument, “Ms. Granger? Mr. Malfoy?”
Even with every student watching them, even with the admonition of their professor, Hermione and Draco held each other’s eyes in a heated exchange for a moment longer before pulling back and simultaneously shaking their heads.
Hermione felt her chin begin to shake but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, of letting him know that he had hurt her, that he had won. The class proceeded silently and as soon as Professor Vector announced that they were dismissed, Hermione shot out of her seat.
She pushed past students and darted through the door, breaking into a sprint as soon as she hit the corridor. Hermione knew that he was following and she sped on. She glanced back over her shoulder trying to see if she had managed to escape him and ran right into a seventh year Ravenclaw. Hermione fell backwards hard as the girl, one of Cho’s friends, swept past her in annoyance.
“Thanks,” Hermione murmured as someone helped her to her feet.
“Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me to leave you sprawled on the floor.” Said a lazy drawl.
Hermione spun to come face to face with Draco. He smirked at her, his most typical Malfoy expression.
“Stay away from me,” Hermione hissed.
Draco didn’t reply, just grabbed her arm and started to pull her along after him. Hermione struggled against his grip but he was much stronger than her.
“Granger,” he said calmly over his shoulder, “you’re making a scene.” For indeed, the crowded walkway was stopping to watch.
“I’m not going anywhere with you. You conceited prat!” Hermione pulled against him desperately.
Draco turned to face her, “either you walk like the sixth year witch that you are or I will carry you over my shoulder like the petulant toddler you’re acting, but either way, you are going to talk to me.”
He let go of her arm and stood watching her expectantly. There was a crowd of whispering students surrounding them and Hermione began to blush. Draco looked completely calm and at ease considering how he felt about all the rumors in school.
“Fine,” she snapped and started walking again, heading to someplace deserted.
They retraced their steps back to their now empty Arithmancy classroom. They were given a wide berth as fellow students watched and whispered as they passed. She turned to him once the door was closed and waited for whatever it was he wanted to say, determined that she wouldn’t break down, wouldn’t show her pain.
Draco stood watching her, his gray eyes dark and unreadable.
“Did you see it?” He asked her finally.
“No,” Hermione swallowed as a lump formed in her throat, “Ginny did.”
“I should have known it was a Weasley,” he muttered.
“Oh that’s rich of you, blame it on Ginny?” Hermione glowered.
“I didn’t kiss Pansy,” he muttered, “she kissed me.”
“And that makes all the difference, really it does.”
Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back. He seemed at a loss as to what to say.
“Look,” Hermione broke the silence, “it doesn’t matter anyway. You can kiss whomever you want.”
“I can?” Draco sounded surprised.
“Of course, it’s not like you owed me anything. It isn’t as if what we’ve been doing means anything.” Hermione felt the tears begin to cloud her vision as she said this and she knew that she had to get out of this room and away from him, but she couldn’t help but ask. “Does it mean anything?”
Draco eyes flashed wildly and there was a glint of desperation but he said nothing. A stray tear slid down Hermione’s cheek and she rubbed at her eyes. It was over whatever it was; she was done. Hermione walked to Draco and leaned up and tenderly kissed his cheek. She gave him the frailest of smiles and another tear escaped but she didn’t bother to brush it away, it didn’t seem to matter now. Hermione walked past him and out into the crowds, leaving him behind.
Hermione angrily paced her dorm room. Across the stone floor, past the beds, and then back again. Lavender and Parvarti were sitting together on Parvarti’s bed painting their toenails and watching with bemused interest.
“Hermione,” Lavender said, “is there something wrong?”
“I left my Potions book in the library,” Hermione snapped, “I can’t believe I left my Potions book in the library.” She stopped and glared at the pile of books that she had strewn over her bed during the desperate search for her Potions text.
“So why don’t you just go to the library and get it?” Parvarti suggested while stretching her toes trying to catch the firelight.
Hermione glared at the two girls.
“Since when don’t you like to go to the library?” Lavender was watching her closely, “you know, you’ve been acting funny all day today.”
Hermione began pacing again; trying to ignore the overly interested looks she was getting from her dorm mates. Yes, she had been acting funny all day. But then what should one expect? She felt funny, all empty and cold. And it was all his fault. Hermione hated Draco.
She gave an exasperated groan; there wasn’t anything to be done. Hermione pulled her cloak off of a chair and threw it over her shoulders. Lavender and Parvarti watched in amusement as she stormed from the dorm room, determined to get her Potions book back, Malfoy be damned.
It only took her a few minutes to reach the library; most students were on their way to the great hall for dinner. Hopefully, if she as lucky, Malfoy would be among them. Hermione had kept her mind busy all that day, working on her homework, and studying for the upcoming finals, only a few weeks away now.
Hermione had done everything she could to keep her mind off of Draco. He had hurt her. What she had promised herself wouldn’t happen had happened. She had never had any intentions of letting that Slytherin prat get so close to her, and yet he had managed to worm his way into her anyway. Hermione had been shocked to realize that she wasn’t even that mad at him. What she had said in their Arithmancy classroom was true he; didn’t owe her anything. Just because she had let herself get close to him, to trust him, care for him, that wasn’t his responsibility. But, even so, Hermione had never felt more miserable in her life.
There were more people in the library than Hermione would have anticipated. Several Ravenclaws that she knew, and a few Hufflepuffs as well. All eyes watched her as she crossed the large room, she could make out some of the whispers as she passed.
“Did you hear what happened earlier? See her? That’s Hermione Granger,” one voice whispered to her left.
“…In love with some Slytherin, can you believe that? Imagine, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin.” Another voiced echoed from the right.
Hermione stopped in her tracks and turned to glower at the nearest group of gossiping students. There was an embarrassed silence as everyone immediately looked back down at their tables. She stood a moment longer, daring anyone to say something, but the students all wore equal looks of contrition.
She headed up the small spiral stairs in the back and headed to their room. Her stomach did a nervous flip-flop and Hermione had to bite down hard on her lip as it began to quiver, a sure sign that she was going to cry.
The door to the room was unlocked, and Hermione miserably turned the handle and walked in fully expecting to see him. But the room was empty. Hermione frowned, he knew better than to leave the door open.
“Draco?” She called, but there was no answer.
Her frown deepened as she walked further into the room. A surge of annoyance sprung up over his sloppiness, really, these books were priceless.
Hermione’s eyes fell upon her Potions book sitting out of place on the table. It’s fairly new bindings standing out against the ancient tomes surrounding it. With a sigh of relief, Hermione picked it up and tucked it into her bag. She was turning to go when something else caught her eyes. Sitting at the edge of the table was a letter.
She lifted it up and unfolded it with shaking fingers believing that it was from Draco, but it wasn’t.
Draco,
I’m glad to see that you have finally come to your senses. I shall be expecting you in Hogsmeade promptly at eight this evening. I have informed your mother that you will be coming home and I believe that this has helped to bolster her health. But I warn you Draco, do not fail me again.
Father
Hermione reread the letter, her hands trembling and her face pale.
“Oh no Draco, no,” she moaned.
That idiot! What was he thinking? Hermione glanced at her watch, it was already seven thirty, he would have left already. He fell for it; Hermione didn’t know how he could have fallen for it. It was a trap; it was obviously a trap.
“What am I going to do?” Hermione whispered to herself, her face lined with worry.
Her hand tightened on the letter, crinkling the page. And then Hermione decided. She had to go, now, as fast as she could. She had to find him and stop him. There wasn’t time to get Harry and Ron, there wasn’t time for the invisibility cloak, she had to hurry.
She ran from the room, leaving the door standing open and forgotten behind her. In her haste, she almost slipped down the last few steps but she managed to catch herself on the wrought iron banister. The same students who had avoided her gaze a few minutes before now watched in wonderment as she rushed past them.
It was staying light outside deeper into the evening and there were still a few lingering students on the grounds as Hermione erupted through the front doors. No one paid her any mind though as she headed down across the lawn, and no one seemed to notice when she passed through the gates and continued down the road.
Once she reached town Hermione paused to catch her breath, her head was pounding and there was a painful twinge in her side. Hermione scanned the streets hoping for some glimpse of Draco, but he wasn’t to be seen. She moaned lowly. Where would they meet? Hermione couldn’t picture the father and son having a round of butterbeer.
“Think Hermione,” she rubbed her temples in desperation.
And then she knew. The day of the Halloween feast, when she had found Draco in the alley. It had to be near there. The chase began again.
She had almost reached the alleyway where she had discovered Draco so long ago when muffled voices could be heard. She stepped back into a shadow-masked doorway and held her breath. Two hooded figures past by her, they were talking softly to each other. Once they had gone far enough ahead, Hermione slipped out of the doorway and followed them, cautiously keeping a large distance between them.
They headed down one darkened cul-de-sac and Hermione slipped into another alleyway. This all seemed very familiar. Hermione remember a dream, the dream that had led to discovering the killing curse. This was the same house where she had seen Draco sprawled on the ground at Lucius’ mercy.
“Very little aura indeed,” she muttered quietly.
With her back pressed tightly into the brick wall of the alley, Hermione glanced around the corner at the derelict house that was the chosen meeting place of Draco’s father. She strained her eyes in the dim light trying to find Draco hidden in the shadows. A breeze ruffled her cloak and for a moment she thought that someone might have noticed her but the dark figures continued to talk amongst themselves oblivious to her. Where was Draco? He was late, had he changed his mind? Hermione prayed that he had. It was an obvious trap. But then he hadn’t listened to her so far had he? She leaned further out and tried to make out the faces of the pair that were waiting outside the house. It was impossible, however, with the darkness that had curled into the neighborhood with the setting of the sun.
Hermione glanced at her watch and felt her pocket again for her wand, reassuring herself that it was indeed there. The slender stem of wood was comforting.
Hermione swallowed and nervously slipped a little more out of the alley, hoping that she would see Draco before anyone else did. He had to be coming, any moment now.
She had to stop him, had to save him. But Draco had yet to appear and Hermione was beginning to lose her daring. And more unnerving than anything else were the figures standing in front of the house. They were talking in voices so hushed that Hermione couldn’t make them out, but she had spent enough time with Harry and Ron to know when someone was talking about Quidditch. And being presented with a couple of death eaters that seemed more concerned with the results of the most recent Falcons’ game didn’t really seem to portend any real danger. Had she been mistaken? Was Draco’s mother’s really sick?
Hermione had only a moment to consider that perhaps she had been wrong to try and persuade Draco that this was a trap and that Narcissa Malfoy was really in the best of health when a sudden presence behind her erased any doubt.
“Ms. Granger, it is so satisfying to see you again. Ahh, but I’m afraid that we’ve never been properly introduced. But we’ll have enough time to make up for that won’t we?” Lucius Malfoy’s deceptively silky voice resonated right behind her, so close that she shivered.
Hermione didn’t even have time to turn around let alone try to escape. Her only thought before the crushing blow brought her into a place of deepest darkness was that she had been right. This was indeed a trap, only it hadn’t been meant for Draco.
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