Valentine's Day Minus

D Minus 1

"You can forget it," Draco announced, dropping Hermione's diary with a loud thump in front of her. "It doesn't matter any more."

"What do you mean?" Hermione frowned.

"It's over with Pansy. It's over full stop."

"Don't be so melodramatic," Hermione scolded him. "So maybe you won't get laid for Valentine's. There are plenty of other girls in the school."

"No, it's over for me. I have no chance with any woman who might possibly ever have held anything resembling an interest," Draco insisted, eyes glazed.

"What happened?" Hermione sighed tiredly, but genuinely curious.

"The entire school thinks we're an item."

Hermione blinked. "They've all gone mad," she said with conviction.

"Potter and Weasley have been going around asking people if they know why we've been going around together. That Hailey Abbot girl-"

"Hannah," Hermione corrected absently.

"-saw us in Hogsmeade in the café together. Crabbe saw me sneak out of the dorm to go and get the ingredients." Draco panted.

"Evidence is mounting up, I guess," Hermione sighed.

"I'm not caving to peer pressure," Draco snarled. "You hear that, Hogwarts!" he yelled. "I don't care what you think! I'm not shagging Hermione Granger!"

Hermione dropped her head to the desk and wrapped her arms around it. She could still feel the stares.

Draco threw himself into the chair opposite. "Help me," he said. "Slap me."

"Don't worry," Hermione said, voice muffled, "I'm sure your vehement denial will have them all convinced."

"'The Lady doth protest too much', you mean?" Draco said. "Slap me."

"I don't want to," Hermione bit out.

"Since when? You hate me. I'm arrogant and prejudiced and drop dead gorgeous. Slap me!"

"It won't help," Hermione said coldly.

"You're upset!" Draco observed suddenly. "It's not your sex life that's been ruined, you know. You'd have to have one for that."

"I'd slap you if it wouldn't make you happy," Hermione mumbled.

"What for?" Draco whined. "It's my life that's ruined."

"Harry and Ron weren't speaking to me today. Now I know why." Hermione lifted her head and looked at him tiredly. "The knowledge is not comforting."

"Ah," Draco said suddenly. "I see what you mean. I guess Crabbe and Goyle aren't talking to me. Hard to tell, really."

"You're being glib," Hermione told him. "This is all your fault, you know that. I'm being shut out by pretty much everyone one I know for a crime I never committed. It's your fault and it's not fair."

"Not fair because you're hated for something you didn't do, right?" Draco smiled grimly. "And the worst part of it is that you didn't do it. I mean, we should at least get the satisfaction of deserving this animosity." He raised an eyebrow. "If my life is ruined for sleeping with you, I'll be damned if I'm going to go through it a virgin."

"If you're coming on to me, don't. I'm not in the mood," Hermione said bluntly.

"Don't flatter yourself," Draco snapped. "I'm not exactly in the mood myself. My life has been ruined." He waved a hand vaguely. "And I guess yours has too, so at least we can sympathise with each other."

"And we've still got five months until the end of the year," Hermione pointed out. If she was being sent to Coventry for hanging out with Draco Malfoy, she might as well hang out with him. It was better than the loneliness she'd known in that first year, friendless. Oh, ironic. These periods of friendlessness would cap her Hogwarts career really quite symmetrically.

This time it was Draco's head that dropped to the table. "Five months until I can emigrate to Australia."

Hermione reached across the table and tapped the back of his hand. Draco held it for a second, but Hermione pulled away and he looked up blearily.

"Let's do the potion anyway," she said softly. "You'll probably feel better when you're normally proportioned. You're being incredibly melodramatic. And you keep repeating yourself."

"It's my right," Draco sniffed. He reached out and grabbed her hand again. Hermione frowned at him. "I said I don't care what they think," he said.

"So you're... what?" Hermione looked baffled.

Draco shrugged. "I'm not sure. I'm holding your hand. I want to." He let go. "And now I don't want to." He made an attempt to grab it again, but Hermione pulled away and folded her hands in her lap. "And now I want to, but you don't. Such is life."

"I'm beginning to think those old jokes about the location of men's brains are true. You never were exactly bright, but now you're just weird," Hermione observed wryly.

"This is why the rumours prove my worst suspicions of our fellows students," Draco said. "We hate each other. Sex, sure, that's imaginable, but a relationship? What are they on?"

"Sex?" Hermione's eyebrows shot up.

Draco shook his head. "Nah. At least, not any of your friends. Some of the girls I know might have had their brains bonked out. It happens to the rich and faithless. You get bored and rebellious."

"I meant sex between us," Hermione sighed. "In a more incredulous tone than that one."

"Oh, sure," Draco shrugged, grinning slightly at Hermione's self-depreciating little comment. "There's tension," he flicked his hand between them, back and forth. "I mean, neither of us are exactly the sort of people to do something that impulsive, but then, if we were to be that impulsive, it would have to be with each other because no one else would understand the significance of it."

Hermione stared at him. Eventually she nodded. "Yes," she said softly. "That makes sense." And it did. She smiled slightly. "But we're not impulsive people," she added firmly.

"No," Draco agreed. "Pity we can't convince them that."

"So, tonight?"

"I really can't see the point," Draco shrugged dolefully.

Hermione shook her head, still smiling. "Aren't the Quidditch showers communal?"

Draco froze. "Yes. Yes, they are. Yes... So, tonight?"

"I see no reason not to. Sooner we get this out of the way the sooner we can avoid each other, except when we're slinging insults."

"We're still going to do that? Only, it was part of the deal that we didn't."

"I think we ought to. Though say a word against Harry or Ron or anyone and I'll be over you like a ton of bricks." Hermione wagged her finger in front of Draco's face.

"Despite the fact they're not talking to you," Draco frowned. "I don't understand you sometimes. They're being bastards. They're judging you on a handful of rumours and a bit of circumstantial evidence. Have they even asked what's going on?"

Hermione rubbed her temples. "No, but that doesn't make them bad friends," she insisted. "Has anyone asked you why you sought me out?"

"No, but I already knew they were fair-weather friends," Draco shrugged. "It's my reputation I'm worried about. Reputation is the only thing to outlive you, and I'm not sure this is how I wanted to be immortalised."

"Am I really that bad?" Hermione snapped.

"You're a mudblood and a swot and head girl. It doesn't matter that you're an alright person," Draco shrugged. "The world is full of alright people. I don't care for alright people."

"If you were a Muggle," Hermione said thoughtfully, "you'd be the kind to always go to the exclusive parties and mix with the sensational people." He paused. "You'd probably own one of those celebrity magazines, though it would deal with actual scandals and stories, not spots and styling. You'd know the really rich people."

"I do know the really rich people," Draco pointed out. "And I like the party idea. I own a very large mansion. I could hold some really interesting parties. And writing's a suitable occupation for the rich and bored."

"And you're a scandal yourself."

"I'm going to fix that," Draco declared. "You will fix me, we will have a huge row, in public, and everyone will accept that it was just temporary madness."

"People would be more accepting of the truth."

"No. Way."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly. What do you think people will say?"

"They will say there never was a potions accident," he said firmly. "Which there most definitely was," he added.

Hermione's mouth twitched, and Draco's expression soured. "So we stage a break up of a relationship that never happened?"

"Unless you're planning to be impulsive tonight," Draco flashed her a mirthlessly toothy grin. He climbed to his feet. "Here, midnight?"

"Uh, no," Hermione shook her head furiously, bushy hair puffing out. "Outside the Gryffindor Dormitory. I don't want to move all of the equipment."

"Okay," Draco shrugged. "So, tonight."

"Tonight," Hermione echoed by way of goodbye.

It had been a long time since she was impulsive. The temptation would have tortured an angel, and Hermione had long since acknowledged that she was merely human. The idea throbbed low inside her, making her shift on her chair. It wasn't an idea that could remain as such. No one who knew her would understand it, because it went so completely against her nature.

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat. She knew, then, that she was going to be 'impulsive' tonight. It would just require a bit of forward planning, that was all.

Night

Later, Hermione would wonder what on earth had made her take the risks she had that night. Sneaking Draco through the common room? Up the girl's stairs? That had taken a rope. And past door after door of Gryffindor?

The sickly nervousness made her tremble imperceptibly as she invited Draco in. She didn't even bother pretend it was just about 'fixing' him. If nothing else, she'd probably end up whacking him off. The idea excited her. It didn't matter that it was someone she loathed, it would still be something she had done.

Draco remembered giggles. Even the idle fantasy he'd refrained from indulging in balked at the memory of those soft titters. Still, there was always hope, right? And yet he was surprised at first when Hermione didn't bother with any light other than that coming through the window. He rationalised it. She didn't want anyone to wonder why a light was on in her room this late. She didn't want to see what she was doing. Despite the low level flirtation of earlier, he'd seen that suppressed smile. She still found all this amusing.

Hermione looked around the room. "Sit on the rug," she said eventually. Her grandmother would never know.

Draco looked at her for a moment. "Why can't I do this myself?" he asked plaintively.

In the darkness, he didn't see Hermione flinch. "It's says maiden. After this, you're going to be very male, hopefully."

"Yeah." Draco lifted his robe and pushed down heavy woollen underwear. Hermione smiled at the old-fashioned element of his clothes, but she wasn't going to laugh again. He sat with his legs apart and leant back.

He looked vulnerable.

Hermione scooped out blue paste onto her fingers. It was slightly gritty, and made her fingers throb. She hoped they weren't going to grow. Draco watched her, eyes narrowed. Goosebumps were beginning to appear on his bare legs, and Hermione wished Crookshanks was there to block the gap in the window.

She knelt between his legs, feeling overdressed. It wasn't funny, now she looked. She'd worried that it would be, but it looked so out of proportion that she felt more sick. She didn't have much paste on her fingers, but the shrunken member was quickly lost from sight.

She glanced up and realised the Draco had his eyes shut. "How... how does it feel?" she swallowed.

"Cold," he said. "I don't want to think about it."

"I could put some music on, or something," Hermione suggested helpless. "I managed to get a magical wireless in Hogsmeade for half a galleon."

Draco opened one eye. "What kind of sound do you get out of that?" he asked disparagingly.

"It varies," Hermione admitted, "but for what it cost it's pretty good."

"I'm sure," he rolled his eyes. "Uh, this is beginning to sting. Is it meant to do that?"

Hermione shrugged. "How should I know?" Looking down, she liberally applied more of the strange paste. Where it came in contact with his skin, she noticed, the warmth made that slight grit melt away. It felt strange. Slightly slick, but not oily. She rubbed a sample of paste between her fingers, but couldn't get the same effect. A little more paste and she returned to her ministrations, concentrating more on the feel this time, trying to work out what was going on.

Draco coughed politely. Hermione stared at what she was doing.

Wow, this stuff worked fast.

Slowly, she raised her head. It didn't take as much courage as she thought it would to meet Draco's eyes. They narrowed slightly, and then relaxed again. She wondered what he was thinking.

"I'm being impulsive," Hermione breathed.

"Feel free to continue," Draco swallowed.

Hermione felt a blush rise in her cheeks but she looked down again. His breath was coming in short sharp pants and she watched his head fall back. This was so surreal, in the dark of the room. His free hand trailed up her body and plucked at her blouse, trying to undo buttons he couldn't even find.

Hermione withdrew her hand and she heard him stop breathing. She took his hand in both of hers and stared at it for a moment, as if she'd forgotten what she'd meant to do. Carefully, though, she guided it down. Draco's head was up again, watching her closely. Hermione tugged on her skirt, and Draco let his hand be guided up it.

He raised his eyebrows questioningly, lips twitching. Hermione smiled back. She let herself be guided forwards, over his open legs. She bent forwards and he let himself fall back. Then she paused, hovering. Her mouth opened, but Draco refused to let her spoil this with questions. The hand that had held him upright before now reached inside his robes and Hermione knew that he'd planned to be impulsive as well.

They didn't come together, like in Hermione's secret books. He groaned like someone had stepped on his stomach. It was decidedly unsexy. Afterwards, the whole thing seemed quite ludicrous. Not just the sounds, but oh, people were right to make fun of sex on smutty postcards and ribald radio shows. It was messy and noisy and afterwards you felt a bit odd. Hermione wondered when that would wear off.

She giggled as she pulled away from the exhausted boy lying on her floor. She stood up and straightened her skirt, still on the verge of pleasant hysteria. He was all the way down there, and all messed up, and here she looked all neat and like she had before and her legs were giving way but that was okay because she'd just lost her virginity to someone she wasn't sure she even found that attractive.

She dropped to her knees next to him and peeled the used condom off his limp dick, tossing it into a bin before collapsing next to him. He reached out and ruffled her hair.

"Thanks," Draco said around a thick tongue.

"Same," Hermione smiled. "Only, you have to go now, okay?"

"Can't move," Draco moaned.

Hermione poked him in the ribs.

"I'll move," he groaned. "Evil bitch."

"Yep," Hermione sighed in satisfaction. "Happy Valentine's Day, Malfoy."

"Back at you, Granger." He climbed to his feet and pulled his drawers back up as he shuffled towards the door. He glanced back only once, to see her pulling herself through the curtains onto her bed, disappearing from sight. He sighed, and left.

V Day

The next morning on the way to breakfast, the thing that preyed on Hermione's mind was the fact she'd never actually kissed him.

"Hermione?" a familiar voice called. She slowed to let Ron catch up, and, shortly after and rather more breathlessly, Harry.

"I thought you weren't talking to me?" she asked coolly.

"Uh, about that." Ron ran a hand through recently washed hair. "It occurred to us that, well, we probably ought to ask you if you were doing anything with Malfoy before we judged you for it, you know?"

"So?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. Ron looked blank. "Ask," she said.

"Are you in a relationship with Malfoy?" Harry asked calmly.

Hermione looked down the corridor towards the dining hall. Pansy Parkinson was just entering. She glanced back and shot Hermione a look of pure evil.

"No," Hermione said quietly. "I could never enter a relationship with Draco Malfoy."

Harry nodded happily, and Ron grabbed her arm a little over enthusiastically. She smiled at him, looping her arm around his, and offering her other arm to Harry. They entered the dining hall arm in arm.

On the other side, isolated among first years again, Draco Malfoy watched them solemnly. He hadn't heard a word they'd said, but he could guess that something had been, since they were all so chummy again. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathered his strength, and climbed to his feet.

"Well, well, well," he drawled as he approached the Gryffindor table. "The troublesome trio are together again."

"Hello, Malfoy," Hermione sighed.

"And just in time for Valentine's Day. Isn't that sweet?" He hovered behind Harry, who was sitting opposite Hermione. "All too young and innocent to understand the true meaning of it all."

"Says the boy who was dumped only yesterday," Ron pointed out snidely. "And all over a rumour."

"Just keep believing that," Malfoy smirked.

"What's your explanation for why you and Hermione spent so much time together last week?" Harry asked, hitting the one question to make both squirm.

Draco's eyes lit up. "I was tutoring her," he said smugly. "In potions." Hermione rolled her eyes, though Draco wasn't sure if it was for his benefit or her friends'.

"You poor thing," he leant over, leaning on the back of Harry's chair. "All you've got are friends. What's Valentine's Day minus the love?"

"The same as any other day," Hermione said smoothly.