The Makings of an Auror

The Makings of an Auror

Chapter Seven

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Two weeks later, the Gryffindors had Potions with the Slytherins, so at 11:30, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Harry all made their way down to the dungeons, along with their fellow classmates. Hermione had gotten used to the bustling corridors of the school again. At the Auror Training Camp, everyone moved in a single file down the hallways. Here, people seemed to go their own way.

"Why does Snape always make us have potions with the Slytherins?" Ron said angrily, balling his hands into fists and stepping carefully away from the walls. There was an enormous spider hanging from a web in the corner of the ceiling, and it was dangerously close to Ron's head (A/N: the guy is nearly six feet tall, and in the dungeons, they can't have much elbow room; the poor guy must have to duck to get into a doorway...okay, I'll be quiet now).

"Because he can favor them over us," Harry replied bitterly, now pushed against the far side of the dungeon walls because of Ron, and he gave him a little nudge. Ron made a noise of impatience.

"If I had one wish, one wish at all, I'd wish Snape was wiped off the face of the Earth," Ron scowled. Hermione gasped.

"Ronald Weasley you wouldn't dare," she said angrily. "As much as you hate Snape, it'd be very mean to wish he wasn't, well, here."

"I guess you're right," Ron sighed. "I'd be better off wishing for a lifetime supply of chocolate frogs, or all the galleons in the world, or--," Ron began, but Hermione cast him a silencing look. She opened the doors to the dungeons, stepping inside with Ginny, Harry and Ron bringing up the rear. The dungeon was just as she had remembered it. Of course, who could forget such a dreary place? Even if it had been two months. The stone walls were icy to the touch, and frost lined the rims of their cauldrons. The Slytherins sat respectively on their side of the room, the Gryffindors on the other. Snape was sitting at his desk; a menacing look on his face as the Gryffindors stepped inside and sat down, rubbing their legs and arms. Once everyone had been seated, Snape stood up, walking slowly and carefully to the center of the room. He looked at the Slytherin side of the room, and then at the Gryffindors' side.

"Welcome to Potions," Snape began, in a voice that chilled the students more than the cold "Let's take attendance and then get right to work." Snape went down his list of students, calling out each name in an articulate and cutting voice. Hermione cast a furtive look at the Slytherins on the other side of the room. Draco was languidly poking his shredded skin of Boomslang with, and Crabbe and Goyle sat on either side of him, comparing the mass of their muscles. Pansy was looking morose at having been seated next to Mark Flint. Blaise Zabini was scowling at Snape, and her partner was looking equally disgruntled. Slytherins, Hermione thought wearily.

"Miss Granger!" Hermione snapped back to attention, her head doing a funny jerk as she returned her gaze to Snape.

"Professor Snape?" she asked.

"Never mind, it seems you are present. Now get your head out of the clouds and pay attention," Snape spat. "Otherwise, I'll be forced to take points off of Gryffindor."

Hermione heard Harry mutter something about a broomstick and Snape, and her eyes widened. "Harry?" she whispered. "What did you say?" Harry turned very red and looked uncomfortable.

"Oh, uhh," Harry began, looking up at the ceiling. "Did you ever know these ceilings are made of green stone?" Hermione shook her head sternly.

"Malfoy?" Snape asked, his tone of voice lighter than what it usually was. Draco raised his hand and Snape nodded curtly, making a checkmark by Draco's name. "Potter?"

"Here," Harry said wearily, resting his head on his arms.

Once Snape had finished calling out the names, he sat down at his desk, folding his arms. "Well, who can tell me the ingredients to an Enlargening Potion?"

Nobody made a move, and the room was quiet. Snape looked around, sneering, and to everyone's surprise, Harry raised his hand.

"Yes Potter?"

"Caterpillar, Daisy Roots, Leech Juice, Rat Spleen, and Shrivelfig," Harry announced, with perfect memory. Snape looked sour, and his mouth tightened into a thin line.

"You listed them incorrectly. If you add the Leech Juice before the Rat Spleen, your potion will explode, effectively blowing you clear to Albania," said Snape smoothly.

"All you said was to list the ingredients. If you had wanted them in order you would have said so," Harry shot back, and Snape's eyes narrowed.

"Would you like a detention Potter?" Snape said in a sinister way. Harry didn't say anything. "That can be arranged then. See me after class and we'll organize it."

Harry flexed his fingers menacingly and Hermione laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. Goyle," Snape said suddenly, turning to face the Slytherin side of the room. "Since you failed potions last year, I wouldn't expect you to know the answer to this question, but it's a stab in the dark. When should Fluxweed be picked?"

Goyle's face contorted into immense concentration, and he directed his gaze somewhere over Snape's head, giving him a deranged look. "Well, it has to be, ahh picked when you, uhh, find some," he finished, looking proud of himself. Snape shook his head sadly.

"Mr. Goyle, that is incorrect, but I will give five points to Slytherin for your efforts," Snape responded. The Slytherins cast a smug look at the Gryffindors, who scowled back. Harry was one hundred percent sure that Snape wouldn't have given him five points for his efforts. "Now anyone, who can tell me what another name for a strengthening potion is?" Hermione raised her hand before anyone else did. Snape looked at her coolly before turning sharply on his heel. "Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco looked wildly up from his desk at the inquiring professor. "Yes professor Snape?"

"The answer. Give me the answer," Snape said. Draco looked amused.

"I believe Hermione raised her hand first," Draco said simply, folding his arms on the desk and looking up at the professor innocently. Snape made a noise of impatience.

"I didn't call on Miss Granger," Snape spat.

"I hadn't even raised my hand," Draco pointed out, and Snape looked mildly embarrassed.

"Oh, yes. Of course. Ms. Granger?" said Snape hurriedly, turning to Hermione, who looked taken aback.

"Well, a strengthening potion is sometimes called the Drought of Strength," said Hermione carefully, hoping she wouldn't aggravate the fuming professor any further. Snape scowled.

"That's right," he snapped.

***

After class, the students were all whispering to each other. Draco caught a group of girls saying 'Malfoy called her Hermione!' and 'Draco Malfoy, sticking up for Granger?' This irritated him, and he cleared his throat loudly. The students shrieked and turned to face him nervously.

"Is there a problem?" Draco asked carefully, fingering his head boy badge with a calculating look on his face. The students audibly gulped.

"Oh no Draco," said one of the girls quietly, her cheeks turning pink. "We were talking about--the Yule Ball, that's all," she explained hurriedly. Draco heard a 'God he's hot, I wonder if he'd date a fifth year.'

"Well on with you then, no need to crowd the doorway," Draco said impatiently, waving a dismissing hand at the girls, and they sped off without a backward glance. Smiling to himself, he turned and found himself face to face with Hermione.

"Hello," she smiled. "Care to walk?"

"Sure," Draco replied wearily, pressing a hand to his forehead and walking down the corridor with her, matching her slow and casual pace. Hermione was very silent, her head turned so she was looking out across the grounds.

"That was thoughtful of you," she said carefully, after a moment of contemplation. Draco looked at her curiously. Her eyes were fixed on the stone floor and wisps of brown hair were coming out of her bun.

"What did I do?" Draco asked, and Hermione brushed her hair out of her eyes with irritation.

"Well you stood up to Snape, first of all. And I know it's no heroic feat or anything, but you also did something you've never done before, and called me Hermione in front of all the Slytherins and Gryffindors." She was looking up at him now, her eyes softening slightly, but the edges remained hard. He wondered if they would always be that way when she looked at him.

"It wasn't really anything," he assured her. "Snape's a git."

"I know he's a git, but it still...I don't know. For some reason it made me happy. It's just one of those things, you know?"

He was about to wave this aside with his hand, but she caught it in hers. Her fingers were cold, probably from the freezing temperature of the dungeons, and Draco's were warm, from having been keeping them in his pockets. She glanced down at his fingers. They were oddly white, compared to her tanned skin. Her nails were perfectly straight and smooth, his rough and bitten. She ran her fingers down over the top of his hand, tracing the odd scar at his wrist. Draco looked at her wrist and noticed the watch he had given her that night at the hotel. She's never taken it off. He then looked bewildered. Once she realized how odd this would look to anyone walking down the corridor, she released his hand, balling her own into a fist.

"Hermione, are you sure you're all right?" Draco asked. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"What is it about me that makes everyone think I'm mortally wounded?" Hermione asked, but a small smile tugged at her lips. Draco shrugged.

"You're different," Draco responded carelessly, and Hermione's eyes widened. She remembered what Harry had told her. You look different, he had said. Maybe it's not looks. You seem smarter, more experienced.

"Well you're different too," she said awkwardly. "You don't call me Granger, or Mudblood anymore." Draco winced as she said the word Mudblood.

"Hermione, about the whole Mudblood thing--."

"It's all right," she said quietly. "I called you a few things I shouldn't have either."

"But still, it wasn't very good of me to do that, and that was way before I knew you better. I'm, uhh, sorry about that," said Draco. He shoved his hands in his pockets furiously.

"I'd hug you right now, but Ron and Harry would kill me," Hermione grinned. This had quite an effect on Draco. He visibly tensed; taking his hands out of his pockets and then plunging them back inside.

"I've got Herbology next, so I won't see you until later tonight. I'll talk to you then," he replied, and he turned and exited through a large wooden door. Hermione sighed.

"I just don't understand him."

***

"Hermione! Just the woman I was looking for!" said a happy voice. It was Lavender and Parvati, and they were in the seventh year dormitory.

"Oh, hello Lavender, Parvati," she said, nodding in their direction. Lavender and Parvati looked at each other with identical looks of eagerness on their faces. Hermione gulped.

"Draco Malfoy seemed pretty hot today, didn't he?" Parvati said. Hermione looked blank.

"H-hot?"

"Yes, hot. As in cute, attractive, gorgeous--."

"Please spare me," Hermione groaned.

"Anyway, we saw you in the hallway," Lavender continued. "You, holding his hand, looking all star-struck." Hermione's mouth went open. "Now you don't need to explain it to us, we understand perfectly. All you have to do now is break it to Harry easily. Men have fragile egos."

"Break what to Harry?" Hermione exclaimed.

"You and Draco are an item now, aren't you?" Parvati asked, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. Hermione dropped her Arithmancy book on her toe and cried out, knocking into Parvati, who caught her rather unexpectedly.

"I am not going out with Draco!" she hissed, picking up her Arithmancy book and turning decidedly pink. Lavender giggled.

"Look, she's blushing. How cute!" she squealed, and Parvati erupted into a fit of giggles. Hermione yearned to throw her Arithmancy book in Lavender's face, but she resisted and instead slammed it onto a desk. This ceased the giggles.

"I--am--not--going--out--with--Draco," she enunciated carefully, as if they were mental. Which they are, she added unkindly. "What makes you say that anyway?"

"Oh please Hermione, it is soooo obvious!" Parvati announced. "He looks at you all the time during class, he walks you to your lessons, you guys eat breakfast together, and to top it off, you're going with him to the Yule Ball."

"First of all, he does not stare at me," Hermione reminded her.

"That's because whenever you stare at him, which is quite frequently, I must say so myself, he turns away," Lavender responded.

"Second of all," Hermione interrupted, continuing as if she hadn't heard Lavender, "so what if he eats breakfast with me, or walks me to my classes?"

"He's never done it before!" Parvati said in a sing-song voice.

"And third, we are not, and I repeat are NOT going to the Yule Ball together. I'm going with Harry," said Hermione firmly. Parvati and Lavender froze.

"Harry? You're going with Harry? Dammit, why do you always get the hot guys?" Parvati shrieked.

"Harry is singular. Please elaborate on what you mean by guys."

"Draco. He hangs on your every move, every word Hermione," Lavender informed her gently. "He doesn't look at you with disgust anymore. It's like he's seeing you in a whole new light. As if he'd never noticed what you really were Hermione, a girl. Of course we've known you were a girl," Lavender added. "How could you not be? You're seventeen. Every guy notices a girl's figure." Hermione had a sickened look on her face, and she sat down weakly at the foot of her bed. "Which is why we've come to the conclusion that whether you like it or not, you're a walking guy magnet."

"I am not."

"You are! With proper training, you'll have Brad Pitt on his knees begging to marry you," Parvati said.

"Brad Pitt? Proper training? Lavender, you're not making sense."

"Proper training as in new clothes, new hair, and makeup. When was the last time you used lip gloss?"

"Yesterday," Hermione retorted. Lavender looked skeptical. "Besides, I don't want new clothes, or new hair, or new makeup. If I'm already, as you say, a walking guy magnet, then I'm obviously doing the right thing, and you're not." She grinned at the astonished looks on Parvati and Lavender's faces. She patted their shoulders sympathetically. "Now excuse me, I've got to get to the library. Talk to you later." She strode past them, book bag slung over her shoulder, Parvati and Lavender watching her leave with open mouths.

***

"Hey Ron," Harry mumbled, his voice muffled through his pillow. He was lying in bed on his stomach, his face in his pillow. Ron didn't need to ask how Harry knew it had been him; he just closed the dormitory door.

"Hallo Harry," Ron responded, pulling up a chair and setting it beside Harry's bed, and he sat down. Harry turned over on his side so he could see Ron. "What's the matter?" Ron asked curiously. Harry looked thoughtful for a minute before shrugging.

"I don't know. Maybe it's the weather. Maybe it's a change in the earth's atmosphere. Maybe it's--."

"Hermione?" Ron interrupted. Harry paused.

"Maybe. I don't know why I'm Mr. Gloom Guy today. I should be feeling happy, because tonight is the Yule Ball. And I'm going with Hermione. Tell me why I'm so depressed Ron!" Harry groaned, burying his face back in his pillow, clutching the bed sheets in frustration.

"Mood swings?" Ron offered weakly. "Guys have them too you know." Harry mumbled something incoherently that sounded like heresy.

"What?"

"Jealousy," Harry practically yelled.

"Jealousy? You're not jealous of Hermione are you? Look, just because she has long pretty hair, and a great smile--."

"Ron, I'm jealous of her spending so much time with Malfoy," said Harry bitterly, looking at Ron as if he were the stupidest person on earth. Ron looked embarrassed and shocked at the same time, so he closed his mouth.

"Ahh, that explains a lot of things," Ron said carefully. "Look, I don't mean to be stupid or anything," (Harry snorted) ",but she used to spend a lot of time with me, and you were never jealous then," he pointed out. Harry made a noise of impatience.

"But you were my friend Ron. I didn't hate you. Well, maybe in fourth year, but that's not the point. I'm not sure I even hated you then."

"Harry, get to the point," Ron responded with exasperation, and Harry sighed deeply.

"Oh yes, right. The point is...uh, well...I hate Malfoy!" Harry said these last words with finality. Ron just sort of gawked at him. "I mean, I hate him, and I hate that he's always with Hermione, and I hate how he asks her to eat breakfast with him, and I hate it when he walks her to class, and I hate it when she smiles at him, and I hate it when he smiles back--"

"Harry, that has to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say," Ron said firmly. "That and that one time you got drunk on butterbeer and thought I was a house elf. You called me Yoda. Anyway, that's not the point. Did you drink again or something? Because you're a bit tyrannical today," Ron warned him.

"I don't drink much," scowled Harry, and Ron held up a defensive hand.

"I know you normally don't, but I was curious. I know you also don't usually have this frantic worry of Hermione cheating behind your back. She's a good person Harry, and she'd let you know if something was going on," Ron said reassuringly. Harry looked up into his best friend's face.

"Yeah...yeah you're right Ron. I'm such an idiot."

"Pillock is more like it," Ron offered. Harry threw a pillow at him, and Ron caught it reflexively. "But you're still my best friend, even though you're stupid, and crazy, and childish, and--."

"Alright Ron, I get the picture. You're still my best friend too of course, even though you have a temper, an anger management problem--."

"Just don't go around chucking 'Potter Really Stinks' badges at me again," Ron grinned. Harry looked embarrassed.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled quietly, but Ron took his meekness as an advantage to launch a pillow back at him, and it hit him squarely in the face. "Ron!" Harry yelled. But he was still grinning.

"Now come on, let's get ready for the Yule Ball," Ron said, standing up and pushing the chair back to it's original place. Harry looked confused, his hair tousled from burying his face in the feathery pillow.

"It's only seven o'clock, and the ball doesn't start until 8:30," Harry pointed out, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to make it flat.

"Well, the girls always get dressed way before us, and they look way better than us guys. I think that's saying something."

***

Draco sat in the Slytherin common room, his Arithmancy book in his hands. Despite the open book in front of him, he was finding it hard to concentrate. The common room was filled with chattering people, mostly girls, who were waiting for their dates, still getting ready for the ball, or making last minute preparations. Draco had dressed in his dark green satin robes, with a large clasp at the throat. He had worn his more expensive gloves (then again nearly everything he owned was expensive). Tucked under his robes and inside his black shirt was the ring Hermione had given to him, with the silver chain. He hadn't taken it off since she had given it to him. Oddly, it felt warm against his skin, like it was giving him hope of some sort. Either that or metal was a good conductor of heat. He was about to stand up and go upstairs to the dormitories when somebody placed an elegant gloved hand on his arm.

"Hello Pansy," Draco said wearily, not even bothering to turn around. She had been pestering him since the announcement of the Yule Ball to allow her to be his date, but he had flat out refused.

"You know Draco, it's not too late to let me be your date," she said in an icy voice, running her hand across his shoulder to his shirt collar, where she placed a finger against his throat. Draco rolled his eyes.

"For the hundredth time Pansy, I am not going with you," he said, irritated, grabbing her hand and pulling it out of his shirt.

Pansy scowled and spun around. "Flint! Over here," she grumbled. Marcus Flint's younger brother Mark (interesting name, :p) came over. "You're going to the ball with me." Mark looked astounded.

"You really mean it?" he asked doubtfully. Pansy looked impatient, and she checked her watch, annoyed.

"Of course I mean it," she snapped. "Come on, let's go." And Mark, looking a great deal happier, strode out of the room with a disgusted Pansy. Draco shook his head, something like a smile forming on his face. Sighing, he stood up, checking his watch as well. It was 8:15, so he might as well go down to the Great Hall. Draco hadn't picked anyone as his date (despite the innumerable girls who had begged and pleaded with him to let them be his date). He figured it would be better off that way, as he probably wouldn't pay much attention to the girl he would have taken. He would have been too preoccupied with somebody...else.

The corridors were crowded, mostly with first, second, and third years, who were lined up and trying to get a glimpse of the Great Hall. Older students were there as well, dressed in many different colors of robes. Draco even swore he saw Snape wearing pink. He joined the line of students, leaned against the stone wall and closed his eyes.

"Malfoy?" someone asked in disbelief. Draco opened his eyes, looking in the direction in which the voice had come from. It was Ginny.

"Oh, Weasley," he said. Ginny was holding Dean Thomas' arm, a look of utter incredulity on her face. Her red hair was pulled up into a braid, which was then twisted into an elegant bun.

"Where's your date Malfoy?" she asked, her voice dripping with scorn.

"I don't have one," was his short and simple reply. Ginny nearly fell over.

"What do you mean you don't have one? You always have a date," Ginny remarked. Dean was looking shifty, and he was glancing at the doors to the Great Hall. Draco rolled his eyes, folding his arms.

"I don't want a date this year. Besides, I really don't like dancing anyway, so what use would a girl be?" he responded.

"I--well, there's always--oh Malfoy you're such a jerk!" she retorted childishly, and Draco looked vaguely surprised. Ginny threw her hands up in the air and stalked to the doors of the Great Hall, an awkward Dean following. Draco fought the urge to smile and resumed his leaning against the wall position. So far, he had officially pissed off two people that evening: Pansy Parkinson and Ginny Weasley. Who else to mess with?

He didn't have much time to ponder this thought, as the doors to the Great Hall opened, letting the crowded corridor fill with a brilliant display of lights. Draco shielded his eyes with his arm briefly, and when he lowered his arm, he got a view of the dining hall. It was decorated in an elaborate fashion of a nineteenth century ballroom. The tables, which were usually in the middle of the room, were lined against the walls, leaving a single table at the end of the room, with a long row of platters filled with food. A stage had been set up, yet nothing was on it.

Draco walked over to the food table and picked up an empty glass, filling it with butterbeer. And then someone spoke, in a voice so familiar that he didn't even have to think on whom it belonged to. "Hermione?" he said, turning around. It was indeed Hermione. She had been talking to Harry. At first, he almost thought it wasn't her, because she looked so...different. She wore robes of dark green that were almost identical to Harry's. Her hair was flowing down her back, and she was smiling, holding on to Harry's arm as if he were the world's protector. Which, Draco thought bitterly, he was. At that moment, Hermione turned around and caught his gaze, and she smiled. Draco weakly smiled back (if you could call it a smile). He took a seat on one of the chairs that had been set up. Hermione looked like she was trying to motion him over to her, but Draco pretended not to notice it.

"Hello Mr. Malfoy," said a familiar voice.

"Hello professor Snape," Draco replied shortly. The professor--who was now, Draco noticed, wearing not only pink robes, but they changed various colors--sat down next to him.

"I see you do not have a date," Snape said tonelessly. Draco clenched his fists. Why was it that all of a sudden the wizarding world was entirely interested in his love life?

"I chose not to have a date. Besides, I hate dancing," said Draco. Snape looked skeptical, and Draco hid a grin. "You don't have one either."

Professor Snape looked shocked and he pretended to be offended. "Teachers do not have dates Mr. Malfoy. One exception is Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall." He looked furious now as he watched both professors striding around the room, arm in arm.

"Ahh, I see," Draco said. Professor Snape was acting sort of...scary.

"It doesn't matter," said the professor shortly. "Anyway I must be going. Enjoy yourself." And Snape stood up and crossed over to the other side of the room. Draco shook his head in silent laughter, downing the rest of his butterbeer. Just then, two young wizards stepped into the room and climbed up onto the stage. Immediately, girls around the room broke into giggles, and some of them were screaming 'Oh my God...it's them!' Draco was about to believe that these were terrible dark wizards until they brought out their wands, pointed them at their own throats, and muttered a spell Draco recognized to be Sonorus. Oh I see, he thought. Wizarding boy band or something. Seconds later, the wizards began singing a quick tune, invisible instruments accompanying their voices. Everyone got up to dance, leaving Draco and a few other unfortunate people sitting on the chairs alone. Draco spotted Hermione and Harry, who were dancing almost directly in front of him--although they didn't notice it. Hermione laughed as Harry dipped her quickly, nearly dropping her as he tripped over his own feet. Hermione noticed this, but she didn't seem to care.

And for the record, Draco was feeling jealous.

***

"Ahh Harry, be careful," Hermione warned him, as Harry tried to spin her around but she was knocked into a Ravenclaw.

"Sorry Herm," Harry said quickly, and Hermione grinned. Harry was a terrible dancer (she would never, ever tell him that though) and his efforts were definitely pleasing. But the pain in her toe was growing stronger, as Harry kept stepping on it.

"Here Harry," she said, stopping him suddenly. "Why don't you hold on to me like this," Hermione said, taking his hand and putting it on her waist, "and the other like this, and try moving your feet like this." Harry copied her actions, and he audibly gulped.

"Are you sure about this?" Harry asked her nervously, as he looked down at his newly positioned feet. "Because it looked great when you did it, but I'm not quite so positive about myself."

"Of course I'm sure. Now start dancing."

Harry moved his feet the way Hermione had shown him, and in no time at all, he was whisking her around the room. Surprised at his own success, he dipped her again, effectively surprising Hermione.

"That's much better Harry," Hermione commented, as he proceeded to impress her with his suddenly acquired dancing skills.

"I'm dancing," he said in disbelief, and Hermione laughed, throwing her head back as he spun her around twice. "I'm actually dancing! Do you know how many lessons I've taken?" He suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I mean, lessons? What lessons?"

"Harry, it doesn't matter," Hermione reassured him gently. "All that matters is that you're here with me right now." Harry smiled at her.

"I'm happy you're here too," he said, bringing her arms around his neck. She entwined her fingers together and rested her hands against the back of his neck. Harry leaned closer to her, and their noses were touching. Hermione was about to kiss him when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She unlocked her fingers and turned around. To her surprise, Draco was standing there, looking cool and composed.

"What do you want Malfoy?" Harry asked coolly. Draco was unmoved by this display of obvious hatred.

"I was wondering if you'd let me borrow Miss Granger for a dance or two," Draco asked calmly. Harry went into a fit of outrage.

"You most certainly--," he began, glaring daggers at the blonde boy, but Hermione laid a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"--can. You most certainly can," she finished delicately for Harry, and he turned his emerald eyes on her. When she gazed up into them, she saw confusion and disappointment.

"Alright then," Harry said quietly, stepping back and allowing Draco to take hold of her. And they began to dance.

"Hello," Draco smiled, looking down at her. Hermione grinned despite herself.

"That was rather unexpected," Hermione commented, as he led her around the dance floor. Draco looked mildly amused.

"What do you mean?" he said lightly, dipping her and bringing her up harder than he had intended to. She bumped ungracefully against his chest. Their eyes met briefly before Hermione turned her head.

"You asking me to dance," she responded carefully, looking everywhere but his eyes. She was aware that a few people were staring at them with open mouths, and she felt uncomfortable.

"It's not that big of a deal. It's just a dance or two," said Draco. "Besides, this moment is going to be added to my list of 'Ways That I Really, Really Pissed Potter Off'," he grinned. Hermione rolled her eyes and Draco laughed genially. "Come off it Hermione, I didn't ask you to dance just because of Potter."

Hermione suddenly stopped, and Draco stopped as well. Her eyes were locked to his gray ones, her expression soft and inquiring. "Then why did you ask me to dance?" she asked quietly. Draco looked blank.

"Do I have to have a reason?" he asked, and Hermione stared back at him. "I mean, I didn't ask you just because of that, not that I didn't have a reason, and not that I had one--ahh never mind," he said suddenly, taking her again and dancing. "So I had a sudden caprice to dance with somebody."

"And of all people, me," Hermione said, more to herself than to him. This time, Draco stopped.

"Would you rather I not dance with you?" he asked without warning. Hermione blushed and spluttered, looking for some excuse that would keep him with her. Draco smirked, drawing her closer to him and matching the music's slow pace. Despite his derisive attitude towards her wanting to dance with him, Hermione felt somewhat at peace in his arms. His scent was of cool summer rain, mingled with the smell of cologne. Funny, Hermione thought to herself, how I'd never noticed how good he smelled.

***

Draco desperately tried to calm his racing heart. He had asked Hermione Granger to dance with him, surprising himself, Potter, and Hermione. He had no idea why he was so nervous. Her being this close to him had never made him jumpy before. But the way she looked up at him occasionally, when she thought he wasn't looking, was enough to make any man edgy. And God she smelled good. Like cinnamon and white roses mixed together with Christmas snow. Draco was also hoping that she wasn't close enough to feel his frantic heartbeats. She wants me to dance with her, he added, trying to boost his ego somewhat. Draco did spot Harry in the corner, his arms folded, a contemptuous scowl on his face. This made Draco feel a little better. Just a little.

"Draco?" Hermione asked, in a voice that made him feel intoxicated. Intoxicated? What the hell is going on, he thought wildly.

"Yes?" he said sharply.

"You realize you've been dancing with me for the past four dances, right?" Hermione pointed out. Draco felt himself turn red, something he normally didn't do.

"Of course I realized that. Potter's just been too lazy to come over here and stop us," he responded haughtily. Some of the intoxicated feeling was wearing off, and he became aware of his surroundings again. Granger always knew how to ruin a perfectly good moment.

"He's being polite," Hermione snapped.

"And I could just feel the love radiating from him as he said the word Malfoy," Draco added sharply. "I don't like him, he doesn't like me. And when I steal his girlfriend and dance longer than promised, he doesn't do anything about it? I think that's his problem, not mine," Draco said.

"Get off your high horse and get closer down to earth, Malfoy," she said, saying his name with something that sounded like disrespect. Before he even knew what he was doing, he had seized her shoulders, roughly drawn her against him, and kissed her. Hermione went rigid, and she didn't move as Draco continually kissed her, with a furious amount of passion. Hermione couldn't seem to stop her arms as they wound their way up to his hair. It was as smooth as silk, and she ran her fingers through it as she kissed him back, every rational thought fleeing from her mind with every touch of his skin. Draco's hands went down her arms and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her as close as possible. Hermione could already feel practically every inch of his body, so it was quite impossible for them to be any closer, but she didn't care. In the back if her mind, something was telling her to stop, but she didn't care. All that she cared about was what was happening right at that moment: Draco kissing her, and the feel of his skin against hers.

-THWACK-

Draco jerked violently forward, and he was forced to break the kiss. He was clutching the back of his head and he muttered some very colorful curse words that Hermione had never even heard before. He plunged his hand into his robe pocket and drew out his wand, spun around, and pointed it at--

"Harry?" Hermione asked, sounding shocked and frightened at the same time. Harry was standing a few feet away from them, his wand raised, apoplectic rage written all over his face. She followed the direction in which his wand was pointing and she saw he had hexed a bench and flew it into the back of Draco's head. Oh no...

"Potter," Draco growled warningly. But Harry wasn't listening.

"What the hell is going on here?" he said dangerously, his voice lower than Hermione had ever heard it before. The look he was giving her wasn't one she particularly liked. It was like a mixture of coldness and hatred. And he was looking at her. Not at Draco, but at her.

"Harry--," Hermione began desperately, stepping out from behind Draco's shadow. Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, enough for her to notice. She gulped, her palms sweaty, knees buckling.

"Shut up," he told her harshly. His hands were clenched at his sides; one hand was still holding the wand; his knuckles were rapidly turning white, and his fingernails were digging into the flesh of his palms. He was shaking, shaking visibly, and he suddenly looked as if he needed to sit down. Hermione feared that if Draco had been any closer, Harry would have punched him square in the face.

"But if you would only--,"

"I said shut up!" he yelled, his voice cracking. He was shaking harder now, so hard he could barely stand. Harry raised his right arm, the one holding the wand, and held it up into the air. But he merely dropped it, watching it roll across the stone floor and land at Hermione's feet. There was an odd look on his face. Before anyone could do anything to stop him, he had turned sharply on his heel, and he began walking out of the dining hall. He walked past the table piled with food, past the students who were all looking at him with open mouths, past the three professors hurrying towards Hermione and Draco, and then out of the Great Hall.

Professors McGonagall, Snape and Flitwick were standing in front of Draco and Hermione, all of them looking horribly menacing. Hermione blinked through her teary eyes, picking up Harry's wand. "What is going on here?" Professor McGonagall hissed.

Nobody said anything for a good while, but when Draco spoke, it was in a voice quite unlike his own. "Nothing happened Professor. Nothing at all." Everyone fixed their attention on Draco, including Hermione, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Well then explain - explain this!" Snape demanded, pointing at the upturned bench and the blood from Draco's head, which was on his hand as well. Draco looked at the doors in which Harry had walked through, and then back at the Professors.

"I tripped," Draco responded calmly, "and hit my head. Honestly, Professor. Nothing happened here."

"You--you tripped?" Professor McGonagall echoed in an astonished voice as if she had never heard of such a thing. Draco raised one eyebrow, and Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "That's not the point. Professor Flitwick, please escort Mr. Malfoy to the Hospital Wing. As for Miss Granger," the professor continued, "she has had no harm done to her. You may go up to your common room for the rest of the evening." Hermione watched, open mouthed, as the tiny Professor Flitwick motioned for Draco to follow him to the hospital wing. Draco looked at her softly, yet at the same time coldly. A cold fist of terror clenched at her stomach, and she made a small croaking noise of protest. Before she could say anything, Draco turned and walked out of the hall, following the professor.

Hermione didn't think, she just ran. Ran as fast as she could to the Gryffindor Common Room. She was half-anxious and half-worried about going up there. What if Harry was there? What if he wasn't? Would that mean anything? Hermione stopped just outside the portrait hole and closed her eyes, trying to envision what it might have looked like to Harry, seeing her kissing Draco. She succeeded, slapped a hand to her forehead, and turned to the portrait hole. But instead of seeing the Fat Lady, she saw Harry, and he was holding his invisibility cloak and the Marauders Map. None of them made a move: Harry, standing stock still, one hand on the handle of the portrait, the other clutching his father's robe, and Hermione, hand still at her forehead, eyes wide. Harry made the first move. He stepped down from the ledge of the wall and walked briskly past her, not even bothering to hold the portrait open for her, and it slammed shut against the wall, the Fat Lady squeaking.

"Harry!" Hermione called out, turning around to try and see him, but he was gone. "Harry please!" she begged. Invisibility cloak, she told herself miserably, and she opened the portrait hole and stepped inside.

***

"Madame Pomfrey, I'm fine," Draco said, trying once again to plead with the stern mistress of the Hospital Wing. She had repaired Draco's head, but she firmly believed that he had knocked himself silly.

"Look at you. If you were sane at this moment, you wouldn't be trying to leave this hospital wing," Madame Pomfrey told him harshly, and she placed both hands on his chest and pushed him down onto a bed. Draco stumbled, his knees meeting the fluffy mattress, and he sat down reluctantly. "You should probably stay here overnight," Madame Pomfrey was saying, and Draco furiously opened his mouth to protest. "And in the morning, if you're feeling better, you may leave."

"But I feel just fine," Draco repeated stubbornly. "Look, ask me anything, anything at all." Madame Pomfrey looked at him sternly, lowering her glasses down the bridge of her nose to look at him properly.

"Name the year the Goblin Rebellion started," Madame Pomfrey said.

"Dammit, I can never remember that one," Draco said angrily, and Madame Pomfrey shook her head sadly and handed him a pair of light blue pajamas.

"I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy, but you'll have to stay overnight." She walked briskly over to a cabinet filled with sickly green looking liquids and brought out a large beaker. "Change into those pajamas and drink this. I'll be back in a few minutes with some chocolate, and when I get back, you'd better have drunken all of that," Madame Pomfrey said. She strode out of the room, and he heard a faint click, a sign she had locked her office door.

Draco, cursing Harry the whole time, changed into the starchy pajamas and sat down on the bed, eyeing the beaker with the green liquid warily. It was unpleasantly thick, and he tried not to imagine what it would be like going down his own throat. He dipped his finger into it and withdrew it quickly. The green liquid clung to his finger like egg yolk, and he wiped his hand in an irritated way on the handkerchief next to him. Resolving to drink the entire thing, he was about to pick it up and drink it when he spotted a spider scurrying across his bedside table. Checking to make sure Madame Pomfrey wasn't anywhere near, he stuck a finger again into the green liquid. He instead dropped a bit of the liquid onto the spider's head, and sat back to watch. The spider stopped suddenly, wobbling unsteadily as if it's legs couldn't carry the weight of the spider, and flipped over on its back, and to Draco's wonder, began snoring.

"Sleeping potion," Draco said disdainfully. He heard Madame Pomfrey's footsteps and her singing, and he quickly grabbed the beaker and emptied it into the trashcan next to his bed. He then set it on the bedside table, climbed underneath the bed sheets, and closed his eyes, just before Madame Pomfrey opened the door.

"I've brought you--ahh, fast asleep already," Madame Pomfrey said, chuckling to herself. She walked over to the bedside table and grabbed the empty beaker. "You'll just have to have your chocolate later."

Draco waited until she had turned off the lights and left the room before opening his eyes. He didn't feel much like sleeping, he felt more like playing Quidditch. Of course there was no possible way he could do that without getting past Madame Pomfrey first. So, sighing to himself, he resolved to stay put for once and wait until the morning. Besides, the Hospital Wing was silent and empty, and sometimes the silence was good. Draco rolled over on his side and looked at the snoring spider on the bedside table. He heard Hermione's words in his head. Why did you ask me to dance? Now why would somebody ask a question like that? Draco himself didn't know why he asked her. Or why he had kissed her. Dammit, she always made him want to kiss her. It was so stupid, and so infuriating, that he hated her partially for it. Only partially. But this made his 'Kissing Hermione Granger' count stand at three: one when he was drunk, two on the day they left the Training Camp, and then three, earlier that evening. He had better stop kissing her; otherwise things might get out of hand. Ahh, but things have already gotten out of hand, said an unpleasant voice in the back of Draco's head.

"Nope," Draco said aloud. "I'm supposed to be insane right now, so I'm not supposed to think clearly."

But you aren't insane at all, the voice continued. You're as sane as you ever were. It's too late to try and hide anything. Potter saw you kissing Hermione Granger, and she is his girlfriend. What will that lead to? You know it as well as I do he'll come sneaking in here in the middle of the night to finish you off.

"As stupid as Potter is, I don't think he would do that," Draco said. "God, I can't believe I'm arguing with my conscience, or inner self, whatever people call these things." Draco looked down at his pale wrist and consulted his watch. "10:05. I can't believe it's already that late." And he rolled onto his back, pillowed his head with his arms, and closed his eyes.

***

Hermione lay in the girl's seventh year dormitories on her bed, staring up at the dark shadowed ceiling. Things couldn't possibly get any worse, could they? Voldemort was supposed to attack the school. Harry had seen her kissing Draco. Hermione had actually liked being kissed by Draco, even though she would deny it for ages until she finally admitted it to Ginny. Well, maybe things could get worse, she thought bitterly. Like something bad could happen to Harry, or to Ron. And maybe the school will burn down...Hermione, you prat, the school is protected by magic, it can't be burned down. No matter how hard she tried to console herself, things just looked worse each time she thought about them. And if Harry were this mad, what would Ron say? Ron would throw an even bigger tantrum than Harry had, which would probably involve a window of some sort and Malfoy's head. The only person she could think of who could possibly feel somewhat sorry for her was Ginny. Hermione had already admitted to Ginny that she had kissed Draco before, and this bit of information appalled the younger girl, but she had wanted to know what he kissed like. That's it; I'll go to Ginny. But hadn't she suggested to Hermione that she should tell Harry that she had kissed Draco? It might have been less shocking that way.

"I royally messed up," Hermione moaned, turning over and burying her face in her pillow. Well, maybe it wasn't her fault that she kept getting kissed by Draco. If she could remember correctly, he had kissed her on all three occasions. Now Hermione had pushed him away twice (A/N: not before getting her money's worth: p), but tonight...her arms and legs were like jelly. No matter how hard she tried to move away, she only succeeded in moving closer and closer to Draco. Could she be developing some sort of crush or fancy for the blonde? Hermione scoffed. He's good looking, a good kisser, he can be annoying at times but there are those treasured moments...what girl wouldn't fall head-over-heels for him? Hermione remembered in fifth year when all of the girls in her year were talking about Draco. She remembered getting sick at the idea and would always flee from the conversation. Hermione had to admit he was up there on the list of 'Most Wanted Guy'. And when she finally had some information that might lead her to believe he possibly liked her, she wasn't happy about that?

"Hermione, you are one messed up person."

***

Harry didn't even look back as he walked away from the portrait hole. He heard Hermione say his name, but as soon as she had turned around, he had just finished throwing his father's invisibility cloak over himself. He didn't know where he was going, or why he had the Marauders Map. He just had to get away from things. Harry made his way outside onto the grounds, twitching the cloak a bit to make sure his feet were hidden. The snow seeped through his socks and trouser legs, chilling him to the bone, but he wasn't paying much attention to it. He was headed for the topiary gardens, which were rarely visited by students because it was rumored to hold some very magical and powerful creatures that were somewhat dangerous, if you didn't know how to handle them. He pushed past some overgrown bushes and found a stone bench, which he sat down on and leaned against the trunk of a tree behind it, drawing his knees to his chest. Harry couldn't believe what had happened earlier. Hermione and Malfoy...why didn't he see it before? Why else would Malfoy eat breakfast with her? Why else would they do homework together? Why else would Hermione accept his offer to dance? Everything fit together like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and with a sickening wave of realization, Harry suddenly saw what these pieces fit together to make. Hermione must like Malfoy, and Malfoy must like her. Dammit, he cursed to himself. You're such a prat, Harry Potter. You've failed at everything.

But even as he sat there alone in the dark, he couldn't think of one thing he failed at. Well, he hadn't defeated Voldemort completely, but nevertheless he'd kept him at bay for nearly seventeen years. But he'd kept his promises. And he'd kept his friendship with Ron for seven years, and that was saying something. The only thing he failed at was being a good boyfriend. How, Harry didn't exactly know, but he could feel it. Why else would Hermione's affections waver? And of all people Malfoy. That thought alone was enough to make Harry sick.

As he tried not to think of such things, he had a sudden idea. He sat up with realization, as if he had been wandering around in a dark closet and someone had just turned on the light. He glanced down at the Marauders Map, and then at his surroundings. Without even considering what he was about to do, he stood up and took off for the castle.

***

Draco wished he had taken that sleeping potion now. The hours ticked by until it was midnight, and he still hadn't fallen asleep. He considered eating the spider, but the drop of potion he had used on the spider wouldn't be enough to lull him to sleep. So he rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about his life so far. But this became boring quickly. Draco swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up and stepping down onto the cold floor. He walked over to the cabinet where Madame Pomfrey had retrieved the potion from and opened the doors. They creaked loudly, and Draco looked into the dimly lit office that was Madame Pomfrey's workroom. The snoring didn't cease, so Draco turned back to the cabinet.

"Gross," he whispered in disgust, as he glanced at the labels. "Who would've known what she keeps in these cabinets." He looked for a sleeping potion, but he didn't see any, so he returned to his bed and lied down. He was about to close his eyes when he saw something materialize in the corner of his room. Sitting up slowly and blinking, he said,

"Potter?"

***

"Ginny you have to help me," Hermione pleaded. Ginny had just come from the ball downstairs, and she looked tired and sleepy. But the way Hermione approached her jolted her awake quickly.

"What's wrong Herm? Are you dying or something?" Ginny said anxiously, and Hermione thought she was being sarcastic, but she wasn't sure. Hermione shook her head quickly, opening the door to the sixth year dormitory. Ginny stepped inside.

"I'm not dying, I'm in serious need of some...err, guy talk," Hermione said slowly, and Ginny's eyes widened.

"Oh no, not Harry. Nothing happened between you and Harry did it?" said Ginny in disbelief, and she sank weakly down onto the bed next to her. Hermione bit her lip, pulling up a chair and sitting down, her legs crossed, he gaze fixed firmly on the intricately designed rug on the floor. "Well?" Ginny urged Hermione. "Don't stop, keep talking."

"It sort of happened among myself, Harry...and Draco," Hermione said softly, and Ginny nearly fell off the bed in shock.

"Oh God," Ginny whispered. "Didn't I tell you something like this would happen?" Ginny scolded, standing up and shaking a finger at Hermione. Hermione glared disrespectfully at Ginny.

"I haven't even told you what happened yet," said Hermione sharply. "Just sit down, I need to go back a long way to explain." Ginny looked skeptical, and Hermione sighed. "Please, I think once you hear the rest of the story, you'll be a little more happy to help me. Ginny sat back down on the bed, folding her dress neatly in front of her and letting her hair down from her bun.

"Okay," Ginny said. "Start talking." Hermione took a deep breath and began telling her how the whole thing came about.

Hermione went on to talk about she had first come to kiss Draco. And then she talked about the little things here and there that he did for her without any apparent reason. When she came to the part where Draco had asked her to dance, Ginny drew in a sharp intake of breath. Hermione paused, but Ginny waved a hand for her to continue.

"Well, we danced, and then all of a sudden, we weren't dancing. The world just sort of...disappeared. Then he kissed me. This time, neither one of us was drunk, and he did it willingly. And...well, Harry saw. You can kind of guess the rest."

"Harry's pissed."

"Basically, yes," Hermione said sadly. "Ginny I don't know what to do. I really, really like Malfoy, but I don't think I love him. At least not how I love Harry. Do you think it would be all right to blame this on hormones?"

Ginny shook her head sternly. "No, I think you're just torn between two guys. Take me for example." The redhead gulped. "I used to like Harry, right?" Hermione's eyes widened, but she nodded anyway. "And then when I had the diary..." Ginny trailed off, studying Hermione's expression.

"I never saw Tom Riddle," Hermione said thoughtfully. "And I never had a quill to quill conversation with him either, so I wouldn't know. Anyway, do continue."

"Well, I really liked both of them, and I didn't know what to do. Draco's like Tom, Hermione. He could hurt you. He could do something to you. Harry...well, Harry's safe. Really, really safe. Unless Voldemort kidnaps you to get to Harry, then you're in danger. But you and Harry have a better chance of staying together than you and Draco."

"Ginny, you're acting as if I love Draco. And I don't! I love Harry. Maybe this is just an infatuation, a schoolgirl crush. Maybe it'll go away," Hermione said hopefully.

"Or maybe you're making a really big mistake," Ginny continued. "Maybe you're supposed to go with Draco. I suggest you go see Professor Trelawny."

"No way!" Hermione shrieked. "I quit that class a long time ago Ginny, I'm not about to go back there again."

"You never know," Ginny said, shaking her head sadly. "Give it a try, what harm could it do? Unless you're afraid of seeing what might happen." Hermione let these words sink in before nodding.

"Thanks Ginny. I still don't know what I'm going to do, but I'll think of something." Ginny stood up and threw her arms around the girl in a sisterly hug.

"Your welcome," smiled Ginny, pulling away from Hermione. "Whatever you do, do what you think is right."

***

Draco was about to close his eyes when he saw something materialize in the corner of his room. Sitting up slowly and blinking, he said,

"Potter?"

"Malfoy," Harry said coolly. He had been sitting in the corner of the room for about five minutes before pulling the invisibility cloak off.

"Good Lord, my conscience was right. You are coming here in the middle of the night to kill me," Draco said aloud in astonishment. Harry looked briefly confused before getting angry again. "How'd you know I was in the hospital wing anyway?"

"I've had enough injuries during my life to have memorized every detail of this room," Harry said, standing up and brushing his invisibility cloak off. "I also know that Madame Pomfrey will look for any excuse to keep her patients overnight. Plus I have this." He held up the Marauders Map so Draco could get a brief look at it, and then he stuffed it back into his pocket. Draco just gawked at him in astonishment, his mouth open. Harry looked astonishingly...well, mean. His emerald green eyes were swirling with hatred, and as he glared, Draco felt an awful sense of foreboding. Never before had the dark haired boy intimidated him. He had always felt as if he had total control of the situation. But now, as he sat open mouthed and gawking at Harry, he felt as if he had no power over anything. And it was quite frightening. Determined to keep his wits about him, Draco cleared his throat.

"Why are you here?" Draco asked, resting his chin on the back of his hands. Moonlight poured in from the open window, the curtains blowing gently in the wind. The moon cast an eerie light over the blonde boy, illuminating his hair and turning it to silver. His skin was pale, paler than he normally looked, and the dark shadows under his eyes were a sign that he probably hadn't had a decent night of sleep in a long while. Harry gulped quietly, avoiding the gray eyes that were now staring into his own with mild curiosity. Get a grip, he told himself furiously, and then he took a deep breath.

"I came here to talk to you about Hermione," Harry said firmly. Draco went paler, if it was possible - as pale as if Harry had just struck him over and over again. Harry looked determined, and he clenched his fists menacingly. Draco opened his mouth to speak and closed it. Then he said, "All right, what about her?"

"Don't play dumb Malfoy. You know perfectly well what I came here to talk about," Harry spat, seizing a chair, turning it around backwards and sitting down, his arms crossed and resting on the back piece. It would have been easier to sit on the bed, but then again he didn't know how the conversation would go. If he did sit on the bed, and things got ugly, then he'd have his face broken into pieces. Well, he thought, look on the bright side. You're in a hospital wing.

"What if I don't know?" Draco challenged, raising his chin defiantly. Harry took a calming breath. Draco could see it in Harry's eyes that he really, really wanted to hit him.

"I really want to hurt you right now Malfoy," Harry said, as if reading Draco's mind, "but I won't. I know better than to cause trouble in Madame Pomfrey's hospital wing. Let's get to the point: why did you kiss Hermione?"

Draco didn't say anything for a good long while. He sat, staring at Harry as if he were something he had seen everyday, and it wasn't anything particularly amazing or special. "You know Potter," said Draco. "I really don't know why I kissed her."

Harry made a noise of impatience. "What are you talking about Malfoy? You couldn't possibly have been thinking, 'Oh hey, I really want to kiss someone. I might as well kiss Hermione Granger'! Harry stopped when Draco began chuckling quietly to himself. "What?!" Harry demanded.

"Sorry Potter, but you really need work on your sarcasm," Draco said genially. Harry exhaled sharply through his nose, something like contempt fleeting across his face before resuming his determined attitude.

"Answer my question Malfoy, or I truly will hurt you," Harry threatened. "I'll hurt you in such a way that you'll never recover from it."

"What are you going to do, castrate me? Come on Potter, even you can think of something better than that," Draco shot back. Harry clenched his fists even harder, and feeling that he wasn't getting anywhere, he Draco his throat. "Look, I already told you. I don't know why I kissed her. Ask me again and again, and you'll get the same answer. You know, you wouldn't be able to answer the question either," Draco added, and Harry looked confused. "When you're around her, she makes you want to kiss her. You do it all the time! You two will be talking, and then all of a sudden, you'll put your hands on either side of her face and kiss her senseless. It doesn't matter where you are, you just do it." Harry was blank, and for the first time in his life, Draco couldn't tell what Harry was thinking.

"Okay," Harry said slowly. "That has to be the weirdest thing you've ever said. Look Malfoy," Harry said slow and low. "I want you to tell me something, and be one hundred percent truthful. Is anything going on between you and Hermione?" Harry looked like he immediately wished he hadn't said anything, and Draco looked into his enemy's eyes, emerald meeting cold gray.

"No Potter," Draco said quietly, and somewhat harshly. "We have not established something in any way that would pertain to any feelings that could be love or affection for one another. At least I haven't, I'm not to sure about her. I just don't understand why she hasn't fallen for my charms though, I'd find it quite irresistible to not love myself and give in right away--"

"Then why the hell did you kiss her?" Harry repeated, ignoring Draco's last statement. "It just doesn't make sense. You must be feeling something, and that shocks me. Who would have known a snake like you could actually feel love?"

Draco tensed, his hands on the sides of his bed were white from having been gripping the mattress so hard. "I'm sorry Potter, but you've got it all wrong," Draco said, and Harry heard the familiar drawl in his voice. "If I had wanted to make Hermione Granger fall in love with me, we'd have all ready slept together. When I want something, I get it, and right now, I don't really want anything except for you to go away." He finished quickly, his voice starting out quiet and ending up louder, until Harry sat quite still, looking as if someone had just told him to go live in the Forbidden Forest.

"All right then," Harry said quietly, standing up and pushing the chair he had been sitting on back to its original spot in the room. "I'll leave. But if I go talk to Hermione, and she tells me that you two are together--."

Draco laughed hollowly, as if he were forcing it. "Trust me Potter," he said. "She won't. Remember: I'm a Malfoy, and she's just a Mudblood."

***

The next day, Hermione stood outside the boy's dormitory, taking deep, calm, steadying breaths. She raised her hand and knocked on the door, listening for any sound of movement. The door opened, and Hermione saw Seamus Finnigan, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He cried out.

"Hermione!" he said harshly, pulling her inside the boy's dormitories unexpectedly, and she stumbled. "You could have seen something!" As if to emphasize this, he nervously gripped the towel around his waist, wrapping it tighter around himself, his cheeks crimson.

"You answered the door," she pointed out, a sinister grin on her face. The boys were used to Hermione coming into the dormitories so frequently that they rarely cared if she walked in on them stark naked. Rarely.

"I know, it's my fault. If you're looking for Ron--," Seamus began, but Hermione held up a hand to stop him.

"Actually, I was looking for Harry," she said, standing on her tiptoes and trying to glance past him. "Any idea of where he might be? He wasn't at breakfast."

"Oh, Harry," Seamus said nervously, looking at his toes. "Well, he was up and out of here around five o'clock this morning. We usually have to pry him out of bed for classes, but today he took off without warning. Even Ron doesn't know where he is."

"But it's Christmas morning!" Hermione said, appalled by the fact Harry hadn't even waited for Ron.

"Tell me about it. I haven't even had a chance to open my presents yet," Seamus said sadly. "Have you tried the library? The Great Hall? Hagrid's? He could be there."

"No, I haven't," Hermione said, somewhat put out. "But thanks anyway, I think I'll go and check."

"No problem," Seamus said. Hermione made for the door, but he put a hand on her arm and she stopped. "Did anything happen between you guys?" Seamus asked, concern on his face. "I mean, he didn't come into the dormitories until one o'clock last night, and he wouldn't talk to anybody. Do you know of anything that could possibly made him act that way?"

"Oh that," Hermione said, forcing a laugh. "Boyfriends are always moody and depressed, especially if they've had lack of food. You get used to it," Hermione shrugged. Seamus looked unconvinced, but he nodded curtly, his grip never loosening on his towel.

"All right, see you around Herm," Seamus said warmly. "Look, if you ever need anything, feel free to talk to me, or to any of the other guys." He laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, breaking out into a smile. "We'll always be here for you."

Hermione smiled gently back at him and then stepped outside of the boy's dormitories and leaned against the wall, her hand at her chest. She felt really horrible now, having found out that Harry didn't get back to the dormitories until late last night, and he left early without telling anyone. She'd have to go see Hagrid and ask if he'd seen anything.

Hermione descended the stairs that led to the common room and out through the portrait hole. She wandered the halls, wishing she had Harry's Marauders Map with her, so she could at least try and find him. Then she remembered Draco, and how he was supposed to be out of the Hospital Wing today. Maybe he had seen Harry. Actually it would be worse if he had seen Harry. If she ever saw him again he'd be bruised and mangled. No sooner had she thought about this, she turned a corner and came face to face with Draco.

"Oh Draco," Hermione said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank God, I was so worried." She looked at him carefully. His face was void of any emotion or expression. He was staring down at her, almost as if he had never seen her before, yet she was utterly...repulsive.

"What do you want?" Draco said, and he sounded...different. Almost the way he used to talk to her when he...when he hated her.

"Umm," Hermione stuttered, completely thrown off by this sudden show of harshness. She suddenly became very interested in her shoes, and did a sort of shuffling movement, toeing the ground. "I was wondering if you'd seen Harry anywhere."

"Potter? Why would I see Potter? And would you please get out of my way, I'm in a hurry to get somewhere."

"Draco, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on her arm. Draco jerked out of her grasp, a look of revulsion on his face. Hermione just stared.

"Look, nothing's wrong. I already told you, I don't know where Potter is so fuck off will you?" He walked past her and bumped into her shoulder, jamming her other arm into the wall. She cried out and watched him walk off.

"Draco!" she yelled. "Draco please come back!" But it was to no avail. Despite her desperate shouts, Draco didn't turn around. He didn't even acknowledge that he had even heard her. "Oh God why this!" Hermione said, burying her face in her hands. Draco was really, really angry with her, and she didn't know why. Was it because of last night? Maybe he did have a talk with--

"Harry!" Hermione yelled. The familiar windswept hair, tanned skin, lightning bolt scar - yes, there was no mistaking it. Forgetting her injured arm, she pushed past a group of people and ran up to him. Harry was leaning against the wall, his eyes shut, glasses off. When he heard her call out his name, he opened his eyes, which were so startlingly green it made her want to look away. "Where have you been?"

Harry shrugged. "Around."

"Around?" Hermione echoed. "Around? Dammit Harry, I have been worried out of my mind about you! Seamus told me that you didn't get to bed until late last night. And then you left at five in the morning?"

"I had to do some thinking. Besides, why do you care? You've got Malfoy, haven't you?" he said coldly. Hermione took in a deep gasping breath.

"Harry, what are you saying? If you're referring to last night, I can explain--."

"Explain what?" he yelled suddenly. "What can you explain Hermione? Oh, you accidentally fell on Malfoy's lips then didn't you? Or did he have chocolate on his mouth and you decided to get it off by means of your tongue?"

"Harry you know that's not true--."

"Of course it isn't true!" he said exasperatedly. "None of that was an accident Hermione. You kissed Malfoy and that's that. Now tell me now, and don't you dare lie. Because if you do, I'll use the Veritas curse on you and yank every secret out until I know what's going on. Is anything going on between you and Malfoy?" The question should have been expected, but it wasn't. Hermione seemed to lose her balance momentarily, and she leaned against the wall weakly.

"No! Of course not Harry! I just passed him in the halls and he...he was different," Hermione said quietly, and she bit her lip to keep from crying.

"I talked to him last night, and he told me nothing was going on between you two. But I couldn't know for sure."

"So you still don't believe me?" said Hermione desperately.

"Hell no. Well, maybe. Oh God, I don't know," he said, throwing his hands in the air. "How am I supposed to know if you're telling the truth or not?" Hermione shrugged.

"There's always the Veritas curse..." she said thoughtfully. Harry made a noise of impatience.

"Don't be stupid Hermione, that curse screams dark magic. I'll bet you the entire staff would come running if I tried to do something like that. Besides, it's advanced dark magic. If something went wrong, well, who knows what might happen."

"Perhaps you're right," she said wearily. "But you talked to Malfoy? Why would you go and do a thing like that?" she said in disbelief. Harry scoffed.

"I would think that would be obvious," he said sharply. "Maybe to see what really went on between you two? Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore. Basically he said that if he'd ever wanted you to fall in love with him, you two would have already slept together. Then he called you a Mudblood and sort of told me to sod off. Something like that anyway."

"A--A Mudblood?" Hermione echoed, her voiced tinny. Harry looked confused.

"Doesn't he call you that all the time?" he asked, and Hermione felt a single tear slide down her cheek.

"Yes...I mean no, not since we got back from the Auror Training Camp--Harry, something is wrong with him. He was so different just now," Hermione said, crying freely now. Harry looked embarrassed.

"Look Hermione, it just wasn't meant to be. You and Malfoy just...aren't supposed to be friends," Harry explained awkwardly, as Hermione began sobbing louder. She only threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly. Harry didn't comfort her or pat her on the head, he just went tense. Hermione let go of him, her cheeks streaked with lines where her tears had fallen.

"Harry--."

"I need to go," Harry said suddenly. "I have something I've been meaning to do." And he moved out of her reach and walked past her in the direction Draco had gone.

"What have I done," Hermione said, burying her face in he hands.

***

"Ginny, he wouldn't even talk to me," Hermione said sadly, sitting at the Gryffindor table in the great hall. They were there for lunch, and to possibly try to find Harry or Draco. Both of them were missing.

"Well I wouldn't either you know," Ginny pointed out, helping herself to Hermione's roll, which she flat-out refused to eat until she found Harry at least. Hermione scowled.

"You're not helping me!" she shrieked, setting her elbows on the table and resting her head on her palms. "And Draco...that was so different. I mean he was really different, Ginny," Hermione said sadly, and a single tear slid down her nose and onto the tablecloth. Ginny made a face of sympathy and patted the older girl on the back.

"Isn't there a prefect meeting today?" Ginny asked, taking a bite of the roll she had stolen from Hermione earlier. Hermione looked up at Ginny.

"Yeah, yeah there is," she said thoughtfully. "Do you think Draco--."

"He has to be there. I mean, he's head boy after all, he'd better be there," Ginny continued, starting on Hermione's toast.

"You're right," Hermione said, perking up slightly. "I'm going to eat that now," she said, giggling. Ginny scowled, moving her fork away from Hermione's cinnamon roll.

"Fine, fine. I'll eat my own cinnamon roll!" she squeaked, holding the pastry protectively to her chest. This was a mistake, because when she put it back on her plate, there was frosting on her Weasley sweater. "Oh great," she grumbled, bringing out her wand and fixing her sweater.

"God Weasley, you're sixteen years old and you still can't eat without making a mess?" Hermione's heart fluttered. The familiar drawl...she turned around in her chair.

"Draco," she said quietly. He was standing there, wearing an obviously expensive dark green cashmere sweater. It was lined with silver, and with the muggle jeans, he looked downright...hot.

"Granger," Draco said even more quietly. Ginny looked from the pale blonde to the tanned brunette. Her eyes widened.

"Going to the prefects meeting today?" Hermione asked in a choked voice, averting her eyes and staring at the ground.

"Of course. I'm head boy aren't I?" he pointed out. Somebody called out his name, and he turned his head, glancing down the long rows of tables to the speaker. When he did this, Hermione saw a silver chain at his neck, tucked into his shirt. It couldn't be the ring, could it, she thought carefully. Her thoughts strayed to the watch on her wrist, and then back to Draco.

"Well then, I suppose I'll be seeing you there," Hermione said, an idea popping into her head.

"Whatever," Draco said nonchalantly, and he turned and walked back to the Slytherin table. Ginny, mouth still open, dropped her fork.

"And this is the same Draco Malfoy who walked you to your classes?" she said in disbelief, and Hermione smiled weakly back at her.

"I told you he was different," Hermione pointed out. "I'm afraid," she began, biting her lip, "that something happened between him and Harry." Ginny shrugged her shoulders, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair.

"Doesn't something always happen between them? They're always fighting, aren't they?"

"Something different," Hermione responded. "It's like they made a pact to hate me or something."

Ginny shook her head furiously, her red hair falling out of it's ponytail holder. "Harry wouldn't do something like that," Ginny told her firmly.

"Or would he? He's never been in a situation like this, so maybe I've never seen this side of him."

"Personally, I think you deserve it. Going around snogging Draco, it's enough to make any guy angry," Ginny responded sharply. "You've gotten yourself into this mess. Now, you can't have either one of them."

Hermione stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the entire bench. "If that's the way you see things, fine." She turned on her heel and began walking to the entrance of the Great Hall.

"Hermione!" Ginny called, standing up to project her voice better. "Hermione come on!"

As Hermione heard Ginny call her name, she didn't turn around. Serves her right, she thought bitterly. But Ginny's words kept replaying themselves inside her head. Personally, I think you deserve it. Going around snogging Draco, it's enough to make any guy angry. You've gotten yourself into this mess. Now, you can't have either one of them. Deep down, Hermione knew Ginny had been right. But she didn't want to believe it.

"Hermione, slow down!"

"Ron!" Hermione yelled, outraged. She really hadn't meant to be so sharp with him, but all she ever did was run into unexpected people. Ron looked vaguely offended.

"Are you okay? What's with this sudden onset of bitterness?" he teased.

"I'm sorry Ron," Hermione said, putting a hand to her forehead. "It's just been such a long weekend."

"Tell me about it," Ron said in agreement. "You look like you could use a good night's rest. Are you feeling okay?" Ron repeated in concern. Hermione nodded, but stopped.

"Maybe I don't feel so good," she murmured. "You know what, I think I'll go upstairs and rest for a bit."

"All right," Ron asked. "Do you need any help?"

"No brother Weasley," Hermione teased, and he grinned weakly.

"Okay, okay, I won't be brother Weasley," Ron said shortly, although he was walking with her now. "So tell me, what's got you so chagrined anyway?"

Hermione sighed, looking down at the floor. "I've been a horrible girlfriend," she told him miserably. "I've lied to Harry, and kissed Draco--."

"Woah, hold on a minute," Ron said suddenly, holding an arm out to stop her. "What's this about kissing Malfoy? I must have missed the memo."

***

Draco leaned against the wall of the castle, a smooth rock in his clenched hand. He was standing outside, shadowed by the trees, his arms crossed, eyes closed. As much as he hated doing it, he had to stop his friendship with Hermione. He had kissed her three times for no apparent reason...well, saying she made him want to kiss her was a reason, but that was beside the point. If he couldn't restrain himself, then things could get ugly. Staying away from her seemed the best option right now, even if it would hurt him and her. He exhaled sharply, opening his eyes. With every bit of strength he had, he flung the rock as hard as he could out over the grounds. There was a soft and unpleasant thunk, and then an 'ow!' Startled, Draco unfolded his arms, leaning out and looking down the sloping hill. He had flung the rock at Potter's head.

"Oh great," Draco whispered, moaning involuntarily. Potter was rubbing his head, his glasses split in two. He looked up, his eyes squinted, and focused his blurry vision on Malfoy. His eyes widened.

"Malfoy, just because you have occasional temper tantrums doesn't mean you need to go throwing rocks at people," Harry said grumpily, reaching into his robe pocket and bringing out his wand. He tapped his glasses and they were instantly repaired.

"I didn't mean to," Draco responded sharply, and Harry was briefly shocked. He put his glasses back on, blinking rapidly to focus his vision again. When he looked back up at Draco, he looked as if he were trying to suppress a smile. "What?" Draco scowled.

Harry shook his head in silent laughter, looking back at the ground so Draco couldn't see his rapidly spreading grin. "Potter, quit grinning like a maniac and tell me what's so funny," Draco demanded.

"Sorry Malfoy, you're just so funny. I can't explain it, you just--are," Harry grinned. Malfoy looked appalled.

"I'm not funny! Well, when I'm trying to be funny I am, but--look Potter, I'm really not in the mood to talk to you right now. Actually, I'm never in the mood to talk to you, so just go away," Draco finished, dismissing Harry with a wave of his hand, and he turned to go back to the castle.

"Malfoy wait," Harry said suddenly. When Draco turned around, Harry was running up the hill to him. When he finally reached the blonde boy, he jerked his chin, indicating the lake. "Walk with me for a few minutes," Harry said breathlessly. Draco just stared at him as if he were an alien that had just descended from a huge galactic space ship and demanded that he hand over the beautiful virgins of the planet.

"What?" Draco cried out in disbelief. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Come on, I promise I won't try to kill you," said Harry, and Draco scoffed.

"Like you really could?" he smirked, and Harry just glared. "Well you asked me to walk, so let's walk," Draco demanded impatiently. They walked for a few minutes in silence, and Draco respectfully didn't disturb it. The other boy appeared to be doing some serious thinking, and Draco understood how he himself liked to be left alone when he did such a thing. Finally, Harry spoke.

"Malfoy," Harry began slowly. "Hermione told me you had been acting differently around her." Draco didn't look at Harry.

"Yeah," Draco said, in a somewhat sarcastic voice. "So?" Harry held out an arm to stop Draco from walking and he turned to face him.

"Look Malfoy, I'm not asking because I'm concerned about you, I'm concerned about her. She really valued your friendship, and she's depressed right now. Have you done anything to hurt her? Because I swear, if you did--."

"Potter, I would never, ever hurt her intentionally," Draco said, in a low voice, and Harry stared at him, his eyes confused yet inquiring.

"Then what the hell did you do to her?" Harry demanded. "She keeps saying you're different. I didn't hang around long enough for her to elaborate, but I didn't think I needed to."

"You'd just get angry," Draco said hurriedly, and he resumed walking. Harry ran to catch up.

"Malfoy please," Harry said in a strangled voice. "Just listen for a few minutes, and then I'll let you go." Draco didn't stop, and Harry firmly grabbed his arm, yanking him back. Harry thought Draco might have been shocked, but the blank look was back on his face. "I don't really want to talk to you," he began. "I just want to know why you're treating her this way."

Draco put his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "Potter," he said warily. "That wasn't the first time I'd ever kissed her," Draco finished. Harry looked blank, void of any expression.

"What? I don't understand--."

"At the ball, I kissed her. But that wasn't the only time something like that had happened." A revolted look replaced Harry's blank one. "Once, I kissed her when I was drunk, and another time when we were getting ready to go back to Hogwarts."

"So you mean to say...you've kissed her before?" Harry said lowly, and Draco nodded slowly. Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair, making it stand up in all directions more than it had before. "Why didn't she tell me?"

"Isn't it obvious? She was afraid," Draco said simply. "She was afraid what you might do if you found out." Draco looked very tired just then. "Twice she pushed me away, and tonight was the only time she didn't protest." This improved Harry's mood slightly, but he was still looking as if he had been told the world was ending in three minutes.

"Afraid?" Harry said weakly, and he suddenly looked as if he needed to sit down. "But she...she can tell me anything," Harry explained to Draco. Malfoy shook his head.

"Okay, imagine if I were Hermione," Draco said, and Harry eyed him with uneasiness. "No Potter, you don't have to kiss me or anything. Just pretend I'm her talking to you."

"Malfoy--."

"Come on Potter," Draco growled warningly. Harry sighed, nodding his head. "Okay. Harry?" Draco said, in a high voice, and Harry nearly choked on laughter. Draco ignored him. "I want you to know I've kissed Draco before, and that he's really really hot, and--."

"Okay, okay," Harry yelled, clenching his fists at his side. Draco grinned.

"See? You're pissed already! Imagine what you would have done if you had heard it coming from her for the first time," Draco said, and Harry looked embarrassed.

"So I lose my temper every now and then," Harry shrugged. "Everyone does."

"But see why she would have been afraid to tell you?"

"Yeah, I guess. But I still don't see why this affects you treating her bad," Harry scowled. It was Draco's turn to be embarrassed.

"Oh, that. When I'm around her," Draco began, walking towards a garden bench and sitting down. Harry joined him. "I don't exactly know why, but she makes me feel so...different." Harry was wide eyed. "She makes me feel like...well, that no matter what I do, she'll still be my friend. And no matter what my past is, she'll accept me for it."

"Malfoy, do you have feelings for her?" Harry asked slowly.

"No way Potter," Draco said carelessly. "She's just a really good person, and you don't find many people like her. You should feel lucky," he added, "to have a girlfriend like her." They sat still, an awkward silence over the two boys. Harry was looking at the ground and Draco had his head back, eyes closed. They wouldn't realize until later that this would be one of the nicer moments they would share.

"Well," Harry said after awhile. "This has been quite the conversation."

"Yeah," Draco said, involuntarily agreeing with him. "But hey, I've got a prefects meeting in a bit, so I'll catch you later."

"Okay," Harry said, standing up, and Draco followed suit. He was about to head back to the castle when--

"Potter," Draco said, and Harry turned around. "You're not so bad," he said after awhile. Harry pulled a face.

"I did not just hear you say that," he said teasingly.

"I guess not," Draco shrugged, and they both went their separate ways.

***

"Prefects," Draco said, looking down at his notes and then back up at the students watching him. "There are a few things I'd like to run over briefly. Now about Voldemort--." A wave of whispers broke out among the students, and Draco paused, waiting for the usual hubbub to subside. "Voldemort would be stupid to attack the school now that we have a warning. Especially with our added security. The ghosts have finally agreed to watch over the school at night. This should be good news for you, as some of you have been complaining about the assigned patrol hours that lead well into the early hours of the morning." Everyone went into cheering. Draco felt Hermione's eyes on him. He didn't know why, but it made him very, very nervous. "The centaurs have also told us that they would inform Dumbledore if they saw anything suspicious going on in the forbidden forest."

"Also," Hermione said, and everyone turned to look at her, "please try and remember that this is very important to the school's safety. If you slack off on your duties, who knows what might happen. One person can make a tremendous difference."

"Exactly. This is what we're talking about," said Draco firmly. "Keep your eyes open." Draco looked to Hermione, and she avoided his gaze. She somehow must have sensed it was her turn to talk, so she stood up.

"Your new schedules have been made, and they go as follows," Hermione said, and she began to read off a list of names Draco hardly even heard. He was too intent upon letting his eyes wash over her, almost as if seeing her in a new light (although he had seen her in that fine black evening gown). He watched her lips move as she talked, the way her tongue would occasionally flick out and run itself over her lips, and then she would resume talking. He watched as she fidgeted the paper in her hands, and the way she would occasionally pause to chew on her index finger. Her neck was incredibly long and graceful, and his eyes wandered down to her shoulders, and--

He snapped his eyes shut with a grimace. Mustn't think such things Malfoy, he told himself sternly. Mustn't think such things. But when he opened his eyes, Hermione had stopped speaking, and she was looking at him. Everyone in the room was silent.

"Malfoy," she said hurriedly. "Don't you agree?"

"Agree with what?" Draco said, sitting up abruptly.

"Agree that these schedules are a lot better?" she said, casting him a warning glance. Draco nodded sleepily.

"Perfect. Absolutely smashing. Now would you please excuse me," he said quietly, standing up and exiting the abandoned classroom. A few seconds later, Hermione rushed after him, leaving the students unattended.

She caught up to Draco in a corridor nearly three halls away, just as he was about to climb a staircase. "Draco!" she yelled, and he stopped, his back to her.

"What is it?" he asked, still not turning around to face her. She walked up to him, clutching a stitch in her side.

"Are you feeling all right?" she asked cautiously, her hand on the stone wall to support herself.

"I'm feeling a little light headed," he said, turning around to face her now. "Why do you ask?" Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but closed it. Draco smiled softly, and walked directly up to her. Then, he put his lips to her ear and whispered, "I'm sorry". He heard the papers Hermione had been holding slip out of her grasp, fluttering down to their feet in a flurry of rippling pages. Without thinking, she threw her arms around his neck, his arms snaking around her waist, his fingers locking and resting against the small of her back. She loosened her grip around his neck, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.

"What has been going on?" she whispered softly, her arms still around his neck, his arms around her waist. "I've been so worried that something had happened, and that you hated me--."

"I was having one of my bad days," he told her simply, and she grinned. "But Hermione...we have to stop this," he told her firmly. She looked into his eyes, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"Stop what?"

"This," Draco said, greatly emphasizing the word, and he glanced down at his hands, which had somehow found their way under her shirt and were resting against her back, her skin warm. Hermione must have suddenly realized it too, because she shivered. "I can't keep kissing you, and you can't keep kissing me back. You have a boyfriend Hermione," he said, with a concentrated amount of effort. "And I--I'm not even sure I love you or anything."

Damn, the words sounded so wrong.

"Oh," Hermione said quickly and quietly. "I mean, I don't really love you either."

Ouch, those words hurt too.

"Of course not," Draco grinned nervously. "This...this just isn't right."

"I agree one hundred percent," Hermione said. She let her arms fall down to her sides, and Draco removed his hands from under her shirt, crossing them stiffly over his chest. "I just want you to tell me one thing," she said. "Why did you kiss me?"

"I can't answer that," Draco said lowly. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's okay," Hermione said quickly and almost sadly. "Ron's kissed me on a few occasions. Maybe it's misread feelings or something."

"Weasley kissed you?" Draco nearly yelled, and Hermione giggled.

"Well yeah, once was in a broom closet, because we were hiding from Snape, and another on the Quidditch field, when he was so happy Harry had won a game," Hermione said. "Of course it was really revolting, but he enjoyed it a bit."

"Man," Draco grinned back, running a hand through his hair. "I never would have guessed."

"Just don't tell Harry," Hermione whispered slyly in his ear, and Draco nearly fell over. The feel of her lips against the side of his cheek, and her breath hissing into his ear made him want to kiss her again. Stop, stop, stop, he told himself furiously.

"All right, I won't tell Potter," Draco said, stepping a good deal away back from her. "You'd better get back to the prefects meeting. There's no telling what they could be doing right now."

"Yeah, you're right. Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Hermione asked, her forehead winkled in concern.

"I think I'm all right, I just need to lie down for a bit. But hey, good luck with the meeting," Draco said, turning around and walking up the stairs to the Slytherin dormitories.

***

Inside his Head Boy room, Draco only had just enough time to unbutton his shirt before collapsing onto his bed. There was an odd burning pain in his left shoulder. The room around him swam out of focus, and he clutched his stomach, suddenly feeling as if he were going to become violently sick. Feeling he should get a glass of water, he stood up, making for the door. But he paused, seeing his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were dark black, staring back at him ominously. His hair, no longer slicked back, was in his eyes, and he impatiently brushed them out of his way. But it wasn't his hair or his eyes that shocked him. On his left shoulder was a black serpent that looked almost as if it had been tattooed there. It was edged in silver, which shone brightly in the dimly lit room. Running his fingers over it, he stared.

"What is going on?"

-----------------

Author's Note:

In the next chapter, everyone exchanged gifts, Harry talks to Hermione, there's a bit more kissing, Hermione reads a book, Draco discovers something about Hermione, and insanity ensues. Will Hermione visit Professor Trelawny or not?

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