Fair and Tender Maidens

Hermione stepped down the staircase form the girls's dormitories. There was a large crowd near what appeared to be a notice. She walked over to where Harry and Ron were standing, towards the back.

"What's going on?" she asked, stopping in front of them.

"I thinks it's for some kind of contest," said Ron, shifting impatiently. He was hungry and Hermione's questions were delaying their arrival to the Great Hall. "Come on, let's go to breakfast."

"Wait," said Hermione, grabbing both Harry's and Ron's arms and pulling them back. "What kind of contest?"

"Vocal, I think," Harry told her, also anxious to get to breakfast.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron said, grabbing her arm and attempting to drag her. "We're starving!"

"Don't you guys want to sign up?" Hermione asked. This was just what she had been yearning to do for years. She wanted so bad to sing.

"No," Ron said sternly.

"Harry?" She turned to him and tried to look her most pathetic. She could look very pathetic if she wanted to.

"Hermione, I can't sing at all," Harry said softly. He wanted to do this with her, yes, but he couldn't sing at all. He didn't like that look of hurt across her face.

She blinked a few times to cover up slight tears. She had hoped one of them would sing with her. She couldn't sing by herself. She would be too scared.

She sighed and allowed Harry and Ron to steer out of the common room. She wanted so much to do this. So bad. She would just have to find someone else to sing with her.

***

"Neville! Wait!" Hermione called and rushed to catch up with the lump boy.

"Hello, Hermione," he said, nearly dropping his quill.

"Neville, would you like to do a duet with me in the vocal contest?" she asked. She crossed her fingers in her book bag.

Neville paled. "Gosh, Hermione, I can't. In front all those people? Are you crazy?"

She sighed. "Yes, I'm crazy." And with that she turned around to find another boy to assault.

****

Hermione fell into the easy chair near the fire. She talked to nearly every single boy in her year. Except for the Slytherins. She was afraid that she would have to ask a 6th year, or someone even younger than that.

But, she couldn't ask someone younger than herself; it was against the rules. Stupid rules, she thought. I'm going to have to ask a Slytherin. Hermione sighed. This was going to be hard.

****

It was hard to concentrate during Potions class when you knew what you were going to have to do after it. That you were going to have to ask the most conceited boy in the whole school to sing a duet with you, knowing that a.) he'll probably laugh, b.) he'll probably insult you, c.) he'll probably refuse, d.) and he probably can't sing. And if he accepts? Then you will be forced to a.) put up with his obnoxious behavior, b.) force him to practice, and c.) force him to tell no one.

The contest had two parts. One was a regular song with a piano, nothing fancy. Just plain singing. If you made it into a top number of singers, you got to move on to the part with song and dance. Hermione had taken dance lessons as a girl and did have rhythm. Which was good.

Hermione already had the first song in mind. But the second one would be difficult. It needed a dance. A choreographed dance. She sighed and put her books away as Snape dismissed them.

She heaved her book bag onto her shoulder and left Harry and Ron to continue packing their books. They're stared at as she quickly left the classroom. She never left without them.

"Malfoy!" she yelled, searching for his blond head. She found it. It was turned around, looking for whoever had called for him.

He raised his eyebrows when she stopped in front of him. "What do you want?" he sneered.

Hermione ignored his sneer. She had to be cheerful and nice to get him to do what she wanted. At least she hoped that was the way to get him to do this. "We have lunch now, so we can afford to talk privately." She was staying mysterious in hopes of keeping him interested.

"Granger, I have more important things to do than talk with you in private," he said, but his eyes betrayed his words. They were interested. Interested as to what could be so important that it would drag Hermione Granger out in public calling his name.

"A few minutes," she promised. "That's all."

"All right, Granger. Five minutes, that's it," he said, giving in and following her down the corridors. She led him into a small unused classroom. It was empty, except for a mahogany grand piano.

She smiled ever so slightly and placed her books on the floor. "Relax," she said.

He oliged, slumping against the stone wall. It was cold and hard. He didn't mind.

She sat down at the piano and played a single note. Softly, she hummed the same note, matching the pitch perfectly.

"C," they both said at the same time.

Hermione smiled. Malfoy did not.

Her fingers struck a different note. A lower one. The sound came and went. Hermione looked at him expectantly. He was supposed to have done something, only he didn't know what.

"What?" he said irritably.

"Match the pitch," she said simply and played the note again.

He didn't know what she was getting at with this 'match the pitch' nonsense.

"Just do it, Malfoy," she said impatiently. "It won't kill you." Her finger graced the key once more and the note came out, stronger than the first time, feeding off her impatience.

"What do you expect me to do, Granger?"

"Match the pitch," she said once more.

"What does that mean?" he demanded.

She sighed. "I thought we'd gone over this."

"When? What? Huh?" He was confused now. He didn't understand where he was supposed to have gotten instructions for this, since all she said to him was 'match the pitch.' What a load of good that did him.

She struck the higher C note once more and sang it perfectly. "Now you do the same, only," she pressed a different key on the other side of the piano keyboard, "with this note."

For some unknown reason, he felt a thirst to prove that he could do this. She obviously seemed to think he was pretty dim already. Not that it mattered to him what she thought.

He softly sang this note. Hermione walked up to him and took lifted her right hand to his jaw. He stopped singing.

"Whoa!" he yelled, stepping back. "Keep away! No touchy!"

She giggled. Yes, Hermione Granger giggled. Malfoy couldn't believe it. Granger giggling? He looked out the window to see that everything was as it should be. Except for this.

"I was only going to pull your jaw down further. It would've been easier for you," she said simply.

He blushed. He shown her that he could be high strung, something a Malfoy was not. He would not let it slip next time.

"What was this for, Granger?" he demanded, trying to cover up that little show of insecurity and his high-strung personality.

"You have a very nice voice, Malfoy," she said, ignoring his question. She slid her fingers across the piano keys almost seductively. Malfoy was shocked. She looked up to meet his hard eyes. "I hope you know that is the only compliment you will ever hear from me. So enjoy it."

"Did this have a point?" he asked again. "Or was this just to waste my time?"

"This, Malfoy, was a test. A test to see if you can see at all. And, you passed." She smiled. "Which brings me to my next question."

"And that would be?" he drawled.

"To see if you were willing to enter the vocal contest, of course." She said this as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Like he should've known. It made him feel stupid.

"Why?"

"Because, I need a guy who can sing for a duet. No other guy in this school can, but you."

When she said this, it actually made him feel important. Because he could sing and few other guys could? His father would laugh. Yet, his father had also brought him up with a strong love of the arts. He could tell his father that it was to expand his musical abilities. But working with a mudblood? He could just say that she was the only one up to his high standards on musical abilities. It wouldn't make his father like it, but only deal with it.

He didn't know what made him do it. Later in his life he would question who had taken over his brain at that time. And yes, later in his life he might be grateful that he had done it, but for now he would remain confused. "All right," he said. "Let's do it."

Hermione stared at him like that was not what she had expected him to say. She blinked a few times. "We should select music." With that, she reached down into her band and pulled out a piece of music. "We need one to start out. If we make it into a top list, we need another with a dance number with it." She handed him the piece of music.

Malfoy looked at the title: "Fair and Tender Maidens."

"Isn't this a girlish song?" he asked.

"It's about a man and a woman giving advice to others about staying away from courting because it is hurtful," she said.

"So much for classic love song," he drawled.

"You want to do a love song?" she asked. "We could look for one if it was what you really wanted."

"No! This is fine...Just fine," he said quickly. He was not one for love. At least in this song he could express the evilness of it.

"All right. We're going to need to rehearse a lot, whenever we can. I reserved this room for us." She showed him the slip written by Professor McGonagall saying that Hermione and another could use this room for rehearsal.

"Typical," Malfoy muttered.

"What do you mean 'typical'?"

"Typical of you to ask McGonagall."

"Like I would ask Snape?"

"Like he would give it to you."

"Exactly my point."