Chapter 12 : Sweet Smell of Revenge
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So there I was, staring at Mafoy, wanting to erase that stupid smirk from his face with one huge wallop. I was trembling in my place from pure resentment. My hands were rolled into fists, clenched on either side of me, ready to take a swing or two at him. Maybe one into his stupid looking nose and another into the gut.
Then he started walking towards me. A smile replacing that smirk. And I felt mollified. This sucked, because I instantly knew what he was doing and I hated him even more so for that. Calmness replaced the anger in me. And I knew I didn’t have the power at that moment to keep up a good fight.
I did my best to glare daggers at him though, before turning around and stalking towards the Gryffindor Tower, leaving Malfoy behind. I figured I always had later to start with him.
“I know you’re in there!” I screeched from the bottom of the stairs that led to the boys’ dormitories from the Gryffindor Common Room. “I’m coming up.”
I knew I received weird looks for making a scene amidst the stillness of the area. But I didn’t care. I marched up the stairs and barged through the doorway into Harry and Ron’s room, which they shared with Dean, Seamus and Neville. All five boys were sitting round the room, chatting, and having a laugh. But the three other lads dispersed once they saw me stalking towards Harry and Ron.
“HOW DARE YOU!” I screamed. I was furious, and could you really blame me if I really did feel like killing the two traitors? They should have warned me.
“You two better have legit reasons as to why you felt it necessary for me to make a right fool out of myself!” I shouted, hands on my hips as I glared at them. “Right in front of Malfoy! Justin and Zacharias! Aaaargh!”
Harry gulped. “Hermione, calm down.”
“Calm down?!” I asked in bewilderment. “CALM DOWN?! After what you two did to me, you want me to calm effing down?!”
“Hermione,” Ron pleaded as he reached out both his hands towards me, which I immediately swatted away.
“Don’t you ‘Hermione’ me,” I seethed. I shook my head and began pacing the room as Harry and Ron followed me with their eyes as though they were watching a tennis match. “You are supposed to be my friends. What happened?!”
“We are your friends, ‘Mione,” Ron said as he grabbed my arms and held me still. “Stop pacing round for a moment. You’re starting to make me feel sick.”
“YOU GUYS MAKE ME SICK!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “MALFOY MAKES ME SICK! AND WORST OF ALL, THOSE TWO FRUITCAKES MAKE ME SICK!”
And that prompted the laughter. My own laughter. I was shaking as Ron held my arms to my side. I was shaking with laughter, and not fury, this time around. “I’m sorry, that sounded bad. I have nothing against… guys who are into guys, except that Justin just…. Destroyed my plan!”
I was still howling with laughter.
“She’s gone mental,” Ron said to Harry, a perplexed look on his face which just made me laugh even more.
“He called me…” I sputtered. Very unladylike, but I couldn’t help it. Maybe I was going mental. One minute I was bursting with anger, the next minute I was overflowing with laughter.
“Wait, you have to hear this,” I said even though they weren’t interrupting me, my hyena disease was. “Justin… he called me…” Then I burst into fits of laughter again, tears rolling down my face. “I can’t believe he called me a… And I didn’t get it… How dumb could I be?! Cupcake!” I sat on Harry’s four poster bed and continued my laughing.
“Excuse me?” Harry asked, looking at me as though I were crazy. And maybe I was.
“Cupcake!” I managed to sputter out in between guffaws. “If that’s not the gayest word ever, then I don’t know what is! And he called me cupcake! I should have figured that out, shouldn’t I?”
“Cupcake?” Ron asked.
“Yes, teddy bear?” I said before bursting into peals of laughter again.
“Hermione, I was asking a question,” Ron said without smiling. “Who said cupcake?”
Harry glanced at Ron and then they got it and began laughing along with me. I guess being slow on the uptake is a bit contagious.
“So, Hermione,” Harry asked as we walked towards the Great Lake. It was a sweltering day and no one could stand it inside the castle. So right after our last period, we decided to spend the rest of the day outdoors. And by the amount of people strolling through the grounds, it seemed as though everyone had the same idea.
“Yes?” I answered Harry as we sat on the top surface of a huge rock beside the lake.
“Why are you making Malfoy jealous?” he asked as he took a white stone with a flat side and threw it at the lake’s surface. It bounced three times before sinking to the bottom.
I shrugged. “He… he deserves to feel pain.”
“We know that,” Ron said with a smirk. “But what is it this time?”
So the whole Veela charms and how Malfoy exploits it story unfolded. I think the boys understood my grief, for the next thing I knew they were plotting revenge.
“Kiss someone else,” Ron suggested. “Someone believable.”
“Ron,” Harry said as he turned to us with a huge smile on his face.
“What?!” I asked, incredulous at this. “Why Ron? Out of all the guys here, I have to kiss RON?”
“Gee, thanks, Hermione. That’s just what I needed to boost my poor hurting ego,” Ron said as he glared at me.
“Get over yourself,” I said, returning his glare. “You know what I mean.”
“And so should you,” Harry said as he turned to me looking a tad bit serious about the whole kissing-Ron suggestion. “If you haven’t noticed, Ron is Malfoy’s biggest threat. He touches you and he’s immediately squirming on the ground in agony. How do you think he’d react if you kissed Ron? Think about it, Hermione.”
The man had a point. So I turned my head and glanced at Ron. He suddenly seemed shy.
I shook my head and frowned. “Okay, let’s see if this will work. But make it quick.”
Ron frowned back at me. “What makes you think I’ll do otherwise?”
“Shut up Ron,” I said impatiently. “Just get it over with.”
“But Malfoy’s not around,” he pointed out.
“He doesn’t have to be.” I stood up and put my hands on my hips. “He’ll feel the pain, no matter where he is. Well, at least according to the book I read.”
Ron stood up awkwardly and inched closer to me. He was so hesitant I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him.
Reaching out, I grabbed him by the chin and pressed my lips upon his. We were still for a moment, then I felt him moving his lips slowly against mine. As I responded to he kiss, I felt Ron’s arm circle round my waist, and his other hand found its way to my neck. Ron deepened the kiss as a shrieking sound pierced through the air.
I pulled away from Ron as fast as I could, looking around for the source of the noise. Then I saw where the commotion was coming from. It wasn’t that hard to spot, seeing as how almost the entire student body were staring in the same direction.
It was just a few metres away from us, to the west side of the lake, where a group of Slytherin students were standing in a circle, around what appeared to me to be Malfoy.
Blaise Zabini’s head whipped around and I saw him scanning the grounds, and finally, his eyes landed on me. They narrowed as they saw Ron’s arm still wrapped around my waist. He shook his head at me, and I suddenly felt horrible. Something was now tugging at my guts. It felt surprisingly like guilt.
I pulled Ron’s arm away from me and stepped away from him. I took a step towards the Slytherins but Zabini shook his head again – which I understood to be a warning not to go near them. Why alert more people to the curious circumstance between us, right?
As Malfoy finally struggled to stand up, with the help of Pucey and Zabini, the stares of the rest of the students began to wander. But mine didn’t. I couldn’t help but watch him with wide eyes as he wiped the sweat from his temples in a sickeningly slow motion, his arm was shaking.
To make me even feel worse for what I did, he looked my way. He saw me standing with Ron and Harry, and realisation flooded his eyes. He knew what happened. He now knew what caused him so much pain. And it pained me in return to see him so hurt.
He tried to take a step towards the castle and away from me, but his still shaking legs gave way and he crumbled to his knees. I gasped.
“Draco,” I whispered.
Zabini, Pucey, Nott and I walked by the lake after a particularly gruelling Transfiguration session and were strategically planning the defeat of the Ravenclaws for the upcoming Quidditch match. Zabini, other than his sniggers and rude comments towards the Ravenclaws, didn’t help out at all. This may be because of his general lack of enthusiasm for Quidditch or because he isn’t part of the team. He hates being left out of things.
“I wonder what’s for lunch today? I really hope they won’t serve those nauseatingly horrible sauerkrauts they served yesterday. Completely ruined my digestion,” he quipped after Nott just suggested an offensive move against the Ravenclaw Seeker.
I rolled my eyes. “Please, you’re starting to sound like Crabbe and Goyle.”
He shrugged. “Where are those ugly lumps anyway? Shouldn’t they be somewhere around five inches from your side?”
“So what do you think about Nott’s first plan?” Pucey asked, obviously not interested where Crabbe and Goyle may be lurking.
“I don’t know, maybe we should cover the –“ I started but a gripping pain tugged at my heart. Sharp blows at first, my heart pounding faster than normal, then complete pain and anguish tore through me, blinding me. I tried to control myself, thinking it would pass but it was by far the strongest pain I’ve ever felt and before I knew what was happening, I heard a loud wailing sound and my hands automatically reached out and tried to hold on to something but I was too weak. It was as though the wind was knocked out of me and I couldn’t see.
And everything turned to black.
“Malfoy! Malfoy!” I heard a small voice coming from somewhere far away. I could feel a pair of hands holding me up and another hand lightly slapping me awake and horrible smells fused through the air.
I blinked and saw Pucey holding his wand out, the horrible smell probably emitting from its end and Zabini was at my face. Nott, I presume, was the one holding me up.
“Malfoy! Are you alright?” Zabini asked once I opened my eyes. I looked at him blankly, still trying to register everything that’s happened.
I gazed around and several Slytherins milled curiously surrounding us. I tried to smile and waved my hand at them. “I’m good. I just, I just…” I said, trying to think of what to say. “It was nothing, go back to what you were doing,” I said instead and straightened up, still feeling a bit weak and nauseous, just like if I’d eaten yesterday’s sauerkraut.
Zabini whipped his head round, rather like he was looking for something and then, spotting it, he stared straight behind me. I followed suit and found Weasley standing in very, very close proximity to Granger with their arms encircled around each other.
Realisation flooded through me.
I gritted my teeth, tore my gaze away from them and tried to hurry back to the dormitories. If that’s the way she wanted it, then fine, let it be. I was so sick of having to endure agony every bloody time she stands next to him. And it was quite obvious she didn’t want me anyway, so why the hell bother? But I was too weak and they were too tightly bonded together. My legs wavered and I fell, missing the ground by mere centimetres as Nott grabbed hold of me again.
“Let’s just sit here for a while, alright?” Pucey said and sat down next to me, followed by Zabini.
“You’re too pale,” Nott said, studying me closely and hurried back towards the castle.
“Was it Granger?” asked Pucey once Nott was out of earshot.
“Yeah,” Zabini sighed. I was still feeling shaky and didn’t want to participate in any conversation at that moment.
“She’s gone too far this time,” Pucey replied. “I don’t know how you put up with it, Malfoy.”
I shook my head. I didn’t know either. I stretched on my back and gazed at the sky as Pucey and Zabini talked in hushed tones, not wanting others to overhear.
“Maybe we should have another talk with Granger,” Zabini mused, looking thoughtful. “Ask her if she has any intentions of killing Malfoy, because honestly, if that’s the case, she must at least try to do it in private, not in front of the entire student body. Besides, it would be extremely traumatising for the first years to see a Head Boy die in their first year of Hogwarts.”
“Here,” Nott said as soon as he came back and sat next to Zabini and handed me a gold goblet and some Chocolate Frogs.
“Erm, thanks. What’s the goblet for?”
“Aguamenti,” he said, pointing his wand at the goblet. “Water and chocolate helps.”
“Right, right. Thanks,” I said and drank every last drop water, feeling better already and unwrapped the Chocolate Frog.
“So, what was that all about?” he asked.
I looked at Pucey and Zabini, not entirely sure if I wanted to let Nott know what was going on.
Zabini shrugged. “It’s nothing. Malfoy’s been acting this way more often, stress with school work, Head Boy duties and being Quidditch captain has taken up most of his time. You should’ve seen him yesterday in Ancient Runes, practically fainted when we were told we had to write a twenty page essay to be passed the following day. Nearly killed him.”
I nodded at Zabini in gratitude.
“Oh. Well you better take it easy today, we’ve got a game tomorrow,” Nott told me.
“Yeah,” I said. I stood up and brushed the dirt off my robe and trousers. “I’m off now, if you don’t mind,” I said, my mind still on overdrive.
I needed to find a way out of this, a way to cut off all relations with her and still survive. I’ll be damned if I die just because my supposed meant to be was in love with her best friend and not me. There’s got to be a solution out of all of this without having to resort to death or Dementors.
“Malfoy, wait a while would you?” Zabini called after me as I speed walked towards the castle.
“What do you want?” I asked, resigned. I didn’t want to talk about it now but knowing Zabini, such a thing was not possible. Nott and Pucey were still by the lake, probably talking about what just happened. Or tomorrow’s Quidditch game, still.
“Oh, a lot of things,” he said airily as he caught up to me, matching me stride for stride. “Including a portable wireless vision box, I’ll have to remember to ask my mother when I go home.”
I shot him a stony glare.
“And to know how you’re holding up and what you’re up to. You have that murderous look on your face again. And while it would be fun if you hunt Weasley down and murder him, I’m quite convinced that you’re about to self-destruct instead.”
I shook my head and stopped walking. Zabini looked at me, his brows furrowed. “I don’t know, you know?” I said.
“Er, no,” he replied, looking at me with complete confusion written on his face.
I sighed. “I mean, I can’t take it anymore. Obviously I don’t like blacking out whenever she comes in contact with Weasley and I really don’t want to die just yet. I mean, it’s kind of depressing. But there doesn’t seem to be a way out of this to cut off feelings from her and still live. And she feels so guilty right now; I can’t be the reason why she can’t do what she wants to do. It’s her life anyway, why should I dictate who she can or cannot see just because my life depended on it?”
He nodded his head slowly. “Right. Well first of all, can I just say this is completely uncharacteristic of you and that you’ve never shown this kind of… well, it’s hard to explain but you know what I mean. Secondly, I don’t think Granger is as innocent as she looks.”
I looked at him quizzically, wondering what he was getting at.
“I mean, I think the entire thing was premeditated.”
“Yeah? What makes you say that?”
“Only because her first attempt at trying to make you jealous failed, quite hilariously in my opinion, and now she’s trying something else. Something she’s sure will work. A little underhanded if you ask me, and I’m a Slytherin.”
I stood there silent for a moment and took it all in. I wanted to say all sorts of hideous things about her, curse her and her family and her friends and all of Gryffindor, but I didn’t. I felt her still in shock, in pain and in total guilt. And as hard as it may be to forgive her, I did. Because I knew that she really felt as hurt as I was when she saw me in pain.
And because I couldn’t stand it, knowing that she’s crying.
I knew there was going to be a Quidditch match that weekend. Slytherin versus Ravenclaw. I wasn’t planning on watching. Too bad Harry and Ron were.
I sat in Hagrid’s oversized chair in the Hogwarts’ Gamekeeper’s hut. Hagrid was pouring me a cup of tea as we listened to the mounting noise from the Quidditch Pitch.
From Hagrid’s window you could actually see the match happening. And I wasn’t sure what I was doing there, staring out the window from where I was perched, supposedly avoiding the game.
I guess it wasn’t the game I was avoiding, per se. I did want to see how it turned out. I did want to see who won. I did want to see how Malfoy played. I just didn’t want him seeing me watching him.
And this confused me to no end. What did I care if Slytherin won? I wished they’d lose, really. But something in me was rooting for Malfoy. Could it be that I was actually starting to like him? That quick? Impossible. Right?
I sighed as I stood up and walked towards the window.
“’Mione, if you wanted to watch the match, ye should have jus’ said so,” Hagrid complained as he placed the huge teacup in my hands. “Yer missing a lot from here, the view isn’t that great.”
“The view’s fine,” I said as I smiled up at Hagrid. “I really didn’t want to see the game anyway.”
“Yer not foolin’ me,” Hagrids said with a knowing look. “But I’m not going to pry. Watch the game from the window if ye want. I’ll be right over here, right Fang?” Hagrid nuzzled the giant dog and downed his cup of tea in a single gulp.
I turned my attention back to the game. It was an exciting game. But the Ravenclaw team was leading the entire time. I guess it became exciting only because I just recently learned how to appreciate the Slytherin team. Well, one Slytherin team member to be exact. And I was keeping my eyes on him.
“Looks pretty good, eh?” Hagrid said, interrupting my thoughts.
“What?” I asked, blushing furiously to the roots of my hair. “Who?”
“Tha’ Ravenclaw beater. That dark haired one, with the thick jaw,” Hagrid answered. “Brilliant player. Nice reflexes.”
“Oh.” I returned my attention to the game. I was affected by Malfoy too much and I had to be careful lest I wanted to alert everyone of the circumstances we were in.
The game, meanwhile, had taken a turn for the best when I saw Malfoy speed through the air and concentrate on the small golden ball, so small that from where I was standing, you couldn’t see it. But from the look on Malfoy’s face you knew he had his eyes locked on the Snitch and with his arm stretched out as far away from his body as possible, he was damn near the thing.
I could feel the excitement in the pit of my stomach and I knew he was gonna get the Snitch. He flew with deliberate movement, swerving through other players with such ease.
I felt a huge smile cover my face as I clutched the humongous teacup in my hands, leaning forward and trying to strain my eyes to get a better view. It didn’t help. No matter how much I squinted at the scene, I wouldn’t have seen that damned Bludger hurl towards him. Next thing I saw was Malfoy being thrown off his broom with a strong hit to the head and falling from the sky.
I heard a piercing scream that seemed too close for comfort. It was only when I felt Hagrid rush to my side and ask me what was wrong that I realised that I was the one making the loud strangling noise.
One moment I was teeming with a surge of excitement, now everything seemed to just crash and burn around me. The happy air that filled me just mere moments ago evaporated, and it left me deflated.
I couldn’t believe it. As Hagrid shook the shock out of me all I could think of was why the bloody hell was I feeling this way. Why was I so affected by the accident? How could I care so much after just a couple of days? It was too soon.
It seemed like an eternity with me just standing there and staring at Hagrid who was still gazing at me expectantly, a concerned look on his face.
I shook my head, still not able to answer Hagrid’s question. He seemed blurry to me at this point. My vision was all wrong. I took a look around the hut and saw that everything was blurry. I reached my hand up to rub my eyes and that’s when it hit me that tears were overflowing from my eyes, pouring down my cheeks, blurring my sight.
I gasped and returned to the present. I looked outside the window and noticed that it got suddenly quiet. With nerves racking through me, I ran right out of the hut as fast as my feet could carry me across the grounds and up to the castle.
“Hermione!” I heard Hagrid yell after me but I ignored him.
The game had obviously ended. A lot of students were already milling around the Entrance Hall when I got there and I heard snippets of what was being said. From the little I heard, it seemed that Malfoy was in a really bad condition.
I tried to run up to the infirmary faster but so many people were in my way. I had to dodge around students and ghosts who were standing (or floating) around and gossiping about the accident.
It felt like a century when I finally reached the infirmary doors. I skidded to a stop and tried to catch my breath. It took me awhile to get myself right, seeing as how I ran without pause from Hagrid’s hut to where I was standing at that moment.
I knocked softly on the door. When no one answered, I opened the door quietly expecting to see Malfoy on one of the hospital beds. But I was left disappointed. All the beds were empty. Only Professor Dumbledore and Madame Promfrey were there.
As if on cue, as the Headmaster always is, he turned to look at me, a twinkle in his bespectacled eyes.
“You just missed him, Ms Granger,” he said with a knowing smile.
Okay, granted the Ravenclaws are terrifyingly smart and would know almost all the answers to every weird and trivial question you may have. But who would’ve thought that they would have physical talents as well?
Precisely the question Zabini asked me the moment I opened my eyes to find myself lying down in the school infirmary. Apparently, as I was trying to catch the Snitch, the Ravenclaw Keeper just blocked the Quaffle Pucey was trying to score with and the Ravenclaw Beater, wanting to just stop me from catching the Snitch, hit the Bludger too far north which hit me hard in the head (just almost cracking my skull wide open) and then bouncing hard towards Nott, hitting him hard on the ribs, sending us both falling down to the ground. It would’ve been a pretty cool move, if only I weren’t on the receiving end and if only we won the game.
We didn’t, unfortunately.
We lost; 250 to a lousy 75. This Quidditch season is by far the worst Slytherin has ever seen.
“How’s your head feeling?” Nott asked me from the bed he was on.
“Feels like it’s been banged on gravel a thousand times, cracked open, healed back, only to keep banging it on gravel. How’re your ribs doing?”
“Quite horribly, thanks,” he answered with a grimace.
“Maybe we should send a few hexes towards the Ravenclaws? Keep them away from Quidditch for the next few weeks, what say you?” Pucey asked (seated at the end of Nott’s bed) with a mischievous grin.
“Yeah, I’m game,” Nott answered, a nasty grin forming on his face.
“Ugh, can’t. I’ll be busy studying for my newts,” Zabini said from the end of my bed. “My mum thinks I’m the next Merlin and expects no less than Os in my exams.”
“I might buy a newt this winter hols,” Goyle suddenly said out of nowhere.
“Okay…” I said slowly, humouring my absurdly idiotic but long-time friend. “Good to know. As for hexing the Ravenclaws, you all have my blessing, but I’m still trying to be on my best behaviour, so I can’t join in.”
“Best behaviour? What for?” Nott wanted to know.
“Oh, this and that,” I said, indifferently.
“Draco!” a voice called out from, seemingly, out of nowhere.
“Mum?” I asked, surprised when I saw her standing by the door of the infirmary with father at her side. “What are you two doing here?”
“You’re mother insisted we come, as soon as we heard news of you being injured by a Ravenclaw,” father’s lips curled, disgusted, at the mention of the know-it-alls.
“I am having that violent Beater expelled!” my mother called out in rage, suddenly speaking in spitfire French that neither me nor my father understood.
“Mum? Mum! Can you keep quiet? Your shouting only makes the throbbing in my head even worse.”
“Oh, I’m sorry dear,” she said, hurrying over at my side and coddled me. “We’re bringing you to St Mungo’s straightaway. I don’t think I trust small school infirmaries with your health.”
“But, but,” I sputtered, embarrassed my friends had to witness my mum babying me. “I’m quite fine here, Madame Pomfrey did a good job ‘”
“Nonsense,” she tutted, “I just want to make sure a Healer oversees your injuries, now get up, we have a carriage waiting downstairs… do you feel like walking? Maybe we should magick him downstairs, Lucius…”
“I’ll do it myself,” I muttered, standing up and walking out the door to prove everything’s fine but feeling dizzy and slightly nauseous at the act of doing so.
“See you around, Malfoy!” Zabini called out. All three (me, mum and father) looked back at him in acknowledgement. “I mean, Draco. Draco Malfoy, I’ll see you around,” he amended, nervously looking at my father and mother and back at me.
“Yeah, later,” I told all four of them and walked out with my parents in tow.
Hogsmeade Day for most my friends and where was I? St-bloody-Mungo’s, just because my mother didn’t trust Madame Pomfrey to heal my skull (which for the record, was healed impeccably well, according to Healer Lyttleton, who didn’t even have to do anything but study my head and let me stay here overnight until it’s completely healed again and back in one piece).
“Come in,” I called, when I heard a knock at my door, wishing that it wasn’t my mother back to curse the Ravenclaws in rapid French and to keep prodding my head as if it were a Potions experiment. It did nothing to help my situation.
I smirked. “Fancy seeing you here.”
She frowned, made a face and started to retreat. Oops.
“Granger!” I called out in a much friendlier voice. “I was only joking, come back to my all-white abode, where mental outpatients would feel right at home.”
“Perfect place for you then.”
I grinned. “So what brings you here?”
She shrugged. “I heard from Professor Dumbledore your parents brought you here, so I er… well, anyway, I see you’re doing alright on your own. I’ll be off now.”
“What’s that you have in your hands?”
“Oh, er, nothing,” she said, blushing furiously and looked down at the parcel she had in her hands.
“Really?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at her. I could feel it wasn’t just anything. I really do love these extra powers that come with my Veela blood. “Because I don’t think it is.”
“Oh, Lavender and Parvati were trying to make cake out of throw pillows and they couldn’t do it right so they asked for help. This was one of the leftovers and I thought maybe you’d like it.”
Really now? Food is one of the elements that can’t just materialise out of thin air, or out of old throw pillows. She must’ve gone through all the trouble to get it from the kitchens.
“What flavour is it?” I asked, trying to peer into the parcel she was holding out.
“Chocolate,” she answered, looking back down at the floor.
I scrunched up my nose. “Ugh, not a fan of chocolate. It tastes like feet.”
“Don’t eat it then, I wasn’t forcing it on you!” she retorted and started to walk out again, but I quickly held on to her hand and grabbed the parcel from her.
“I’m sure I’ll find someone to eat it,” I said nonchalantly and placed it carefully on the bedside table.
“Right. So, I’ll be seeing you then,” she started to say awkwardly.
“Could you help me first before you go?” I asked her in a sugary-sweet voice.
She narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously. I swear I’m never going to get her to trust me. “What is it?”
“My pillows aren’t fixed right, it’s making my head hurt again,” I said, making a face. “Could you fix it? Just you know, plump it up a bit.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“Because moving around makes my head hurt, so I don’t want to twist and turn just to fix my lousy, second-rate pillows because the medi-witches did a bad job at it.”
She sighed in frustration but did as she was told. I smiled. Her arms encircled just around my face, her face right smack in front of mine.
“Don’t be getting any ideas now,” she warned as she plumped up my pillows.
“What sort of ideas?” I asked innocently, giving her a doe-eyed look.
“Never mind,” she muttered and tried to step back; only I held on to her wrists. I could feel her pulse beat faster.
“Don’t you dare, Malfoy,” she said, trying hard to twist her wrists away from my grasp. I pulled her closer in response.
I smirked. “But… I like dares,” I said, pulling her slowly towards me. And even if the fire in her eyes were maddeningly defiant, she allowed herself to get pulled closer. Our noses touching, our lips mere centimetres apart.
Sealing the gap, I pressed my mouth on hers. Unexpectedly, she closed her eyes and kissed me back.
I could hear her heartbeat thump even faster than it already was, and I could feel the breathless, blissful feeling soaring in her. And I knew from that moment on, she was mine.
“Oh, oh dear, I’m sorry,” I heard a woman from the background say uncomfortably. I quickly released Granger from my hold to look at the intruder.
Author’s Notes: Due to popular demand, we’ve included the Hermione-kissing-Ron scene. It wasn’t really in the plan, as I wanted to leave Hermione flustered and Draco smug, but I think it turned out well and added some spice to the chapter and I’m glad we did as was suggested. :D So anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed and if you have any more input/suggestions, we’d love that. Especially regarding the upcoming war. I mean, it’s bound to come up in one of the chapters, but we’re not quite sure how to go about it just yet. Still thinking about it. So if anyone has any ideas, feel free to let us know. We’ll credit you for it, of course. Cheers! -Sloane
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