Damned If You Do...

Damned If You Do...

"I don't get it."

Harry rolled his eyes skyward and heaved a great sigh. They were walking down the corridors on their way to the kitchens after taking a break from studying for N.E.W.T.S. The looming exams had all the seventh years tied up in knots, and the two Gryffindors were no exception. While covering Potions, Ron had been ready to snap when he couldn't for the life of him remember the twelve uses of dragon's blood so Harry smartly decided to go in search of a snack. "Okay, I'll explain it again."

Ron listened.

"The rapper's name is Eminem..."

"Yeah, I got that part."

"There's a Muggle candy called M&M's..."

"I got that part."

"Don't you think that's funny?"

"But didn't you just say it stood for his initials?"

"Yeah, his real name is Marshall Mathers."

"I still don't get it."

Harry shook his head and groaned as he shoved his fisted hands into the front pocket of his jeans. "Never mind." His attempt at humor didn't go the way he would have liked, but points for effort, he supposed. He turned back to his redheaded friend who was studying him with a thoughtful expression.

"What did Hermione say again? About why she wasn't coming to the common room?"

"She said she wasn't feeling well so she was heading back to her room in the Heads dorm to rest and wouldn't be studying with us tonight."

"Right." Ron's cheeks were starting to flush and he darted his blue eyes away from Harry's piercing emerald gaze. "Don't you think it would be nice if we brought her something from the kitchens?" Seeing Harry's fast-forming grin, he quickly added, "You know, to make her feel better."

Deciding, for once, not to tease the redhead for his crush on their female third, Harry silently agreed as they arrived at the portrait with the pear. He reached out and tickled the familiar image and then moved back to let it open. The two boys quickly stepped inside to be greeted by the friendly house-elves.

After making pigs of themselves on sandwiches and cookies, Harry politely asked a nearby house-elf to mix up a bowl of chicken noodle soup, Hermione's favorite, for them to take to her in her dorm room. Once they had it in their possession, the two boys left the company of the house-elves to start the trek back to see the Head Girl.

As they entered the common room of the Heads dorm (Hermione had given them the password), they both had the same thought in chorus. How perfectly awful it must be for Hermione to share the same living space with that bastard, Draco Malfoy.

There were very distinct sounds drifting towards them from the left bedroom inhabited by the Slytherin, and usually, skin slapping and mattress bouncing meant only one thing. Shifting their weight awkwardly, the Gryffindors each sent a glare of disgust in the direction of the noise before swiftly heading for the door on the right, trying their best to ignore the commotion in the other room all the while.

Ron lifted a hand and knocked softly, not wanting to disturb her if she'd fallen asleep.

"Hermione?"

When they received no answer, they instead decided to try the door figuring they could quietly set the soup inside if she was indeed asleep. The door opened and what they found was an empty room, left in the perfectly-organized fashion Hermione always kept it in.

Perplexed, the boys looked at each other, both conveying their confusion at not finding Hermione where she said she'd be. Harry sighed as they realized there was only one thing to do. If they went back to the dorm and tried to find her on the Marauder's Map, they might not reach her in time before the soup got cold and neither boy was especially gifted with heating charms.

They had to ask Malfoy where she was.

The Slytherin might have been scum of the earth as far as Harry and Ron were concerned, but he was Head Boy and with that came a certain amount of respect, even if it was grudgingly given. Besides, Hermione might have gone out on some unexpected Head Girl duties, and the blonde, being her counterpart in that respect, would probably know.

Resigning themselves to their fate, Harry and Ron drew up to their full height and crossed the common room to the Slytherin's door. The two boys were embarrassed beyond belief as they listened to the continuous racket coming from the other side of the wood barrier. Just as Harry raised his hand to knock, a very husky feminine voice called out in a half-whimper, half-moan.

"Draco!"

The Gryffindors were mortified as their faces flamed to a deep cherry red. Deciding to get this over with as soon as possible and leave the room with some dignity, Harry banged on the door.

"Malfoy! We need to talk to you!"

Low murmurs and shuffling could now be heard on the other side followed by the slam of the bathroom door, and Harry was wondering just who was in there with the Slytherin when the door flew open to reveal a very irate Draco Malfoy. He was the most disheveled the two Gryffindors had ever seen him, with tousled hair and wearing only a green bathrobe.

His silver eyes were alight with annoyance at being interrupted by the boy hero and his redheaded sidekick, and he snapped at them, "What do you want?"

Harry focused on the matter at hand while Ron contented himself with glancing at the room behind the blonde boy, and therefore avoiding actually looking at the Head Boy.

"Do you know where Hermione is?"

Malfoy sneered at them in reply. "Haven't seen her."

He then tried to close the door in their faces, but Ron's hand shot out to catch it in mid-swing. His blue eyes were glued to a spot underneath the outstretched arm of the Slytherin, and his voice was soft when he spoke.

"I know that bra."

Pushing past the indignant blonde, the redhead entered the room with his best friend trailing after him. Ron sauntered over to the desk in the corner where the garment was draped over the chair. He picked it up in his hands and turned it over, his face turning five shades of pale as he studied it.

It was green satin embroidered with a curlicue pattern in silky silver thread and edged with delicate silver lace.

"This is part of a matching set." Ron's voice was choked as he continued to speak, his complexion now doing a fair imitation of a grape. "Ginny gave it to Hermione for Christmas this past term when they'd seen it shopping and Hermione had expressed her fondness for the two colors regardless of them being Slytherin's."

Harry, not realizing what Ron was on about, finally clued in and his eyes widened in understanding. He set the soup off to the side, completely forgetting about it. The redheaded boy looked like he was about to have a conniption fit and start tearing things apart when he moved to the bathroom door and started pounding.

"Hermione, come out of there right this minute!"

The door shot back, exposing an uncomfortable Hermione clad in nothing but the green sheet from the Head Boy's bed. Shifting her attention away from the livid gazes of her two best friends who both looked to be beyond the point of speaking, she glared at her paramour.

"I thought I told you to make them go away."

Draco, undaunted by her fierce gaze, shrugged in reply. "I tried."

"Obviously not very hard," she said while gritting her teeth and clasping the sheet tighter around her.

"Weasel here saw your bra and recognized it, which, if I had known he would be able to, I wouldn't have opened the door in the first place."

"While this exchange is fascinating, let's get back to how long Hermione's been lying to her friends and banging Blondie." Harry's tone was conversational, but she could hear the fury thrumming underneath the surface.

Hermione, at that moment, didn't know which boy to be more scared of. Ron's hotheadedness was damn nearly legendary at Hogwarts, but she'd seen the results of Harry's temper when let loose. It wasn't a pretty sight, and both boys looked ready to explode and their attention was focused solely on her. Placating them reasonably was probably her best option right now.

"Now, Harry -"

"Don't you 'Harry' me. How dare you."

"How dare I?" Hermione asked the question incredulously.

Ron was shaking with rage when he finally found his voice. "Yes, Hermione, how dare you. How could you be so stupid as to crawl into bed with that slime?! Letting him touch and fuck you?! Probably convincing you to lie to your friends and sneak around?!"

"Oi! I'm still in the room, you know!"

The trio of friends ignored the offended blonde as the fire behind Hermione's vibrant chocolate eyes sparked into an inferno. She raised herself up, managing to look superior with only the sheet on, and looked down her nose at the two Gryffindors.

"It is MY life, and I will fuck whoever I want. If that just so happens to be Draco, then it's my business because you two are my friends, but you do NOT control my life. No matter how much you might want to." Her tone was cold and deadly serious.

Her words appeased the enraged teenagers more than their own shouting could have, and the tension between the three friends melted rather quickly. The two boys knew better than to really piss Hermione off, over six years at Hogwarts had taught them that the hard way. Ron still looked somewhat hurt, but Hermione knew he'd get over it in time.

Harry glanced over at the Slytherin who had reclined back on his bed to watch the fireworks, knowing his interference would be unwelcome, before casting Hermione a disbelieving look with a lifted eyebrow. "Malfoy, huh?"

"Yep." Hermione looked relieved that they weren't at each other's throats anymore.

"So, how long?"

"Six months. Tonight was our anniversary."

"Six months?!" Now both boys looked incensed once again. Ron's mouth was hanging open and Harry's eyes were twice their normal size. "You didn't see fit to tell us for six months that you had started a relationship with the boy who we've hated since first year?!"

"Oh, now you're upset because I didn't tell you?! You mean, because you're taking it so well now?!" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.

Harry had grace enough to look sheepish. "Well, -"

"No, we're going to finish this conversation in the morning when I'm fully clothed and not quite so uncomfortable." Hermione's lips had thinned into a grim line of determination as she walked to the door, sheet trailing behind her, and showed them out.

Hanging their heads in defeat, Harry and Ron grumbled as they followed, both sending one final glare in the direction of the Slytherin before stepping into the common room. Once they'd left and the door was shut, she sagged against it and thumped her forehead.

"Something the matter, Granger?" His voice was bemused as he watched her.

She turned and narrowed her eyes at the lounging Head Boy. "Very funny, Draco. I bet you think it's all a big joke, don't you?"

Sensing her frustration, he scooted to the edge of the bed and beckoned her towards him. "Don't worry, love. Tomorrow is another day."

She went to him and he gently pried the sheet away, uncovering her body for his eyes. Taking one full breast in his hand and the other in his mouth, he resumed their amorous activities from earlier as he sucked expertly on her hardened bud. Hermione sighed as she leaned into him and reached for the tie at the front of his bathrobe.

Yes, tomorrow could wait.

Fin.