I Love You, Don't Touch Me!

I Love You, Don't Touch Me!

Chapter 9: Night Interlude

Hermione lifted her head to look at Ginny. "I don't know," she said honestly, then looked down at her leg again. Her skirt wasn't torn, so it wasn't as if she had caught it on something... Hermione stared for a few more seconds, trying to figure out when she had been so clumsy, but drew a blank.

"Well, I guess you should clean it up then; wash it off and then I'll walk you down to Madam Pomfrey," Ginny said, jumping up and going back to the sink. She returned a minute later with a wet, slightly soapy cloth and handed it to Hermione. Hermione gently cleaned off her leg, all the while muttering to herself about being distracted and something that sounded vaguely like "squid", "hex" and "Harry". Ginny agreed with her, although she didn't voice her opinion.

"Ginny," Hermione said suddenly, lifting her head again as she finished, "Madam Pomfrey will long be in bed by now, it's really late..." She trailed off. Ginny gave her a somewhat skeptical look. "Ginny, I know that you're studying Healing Charms after school, could you...?"

Ginny sighed. Obviously there was no way she was going to get Hermione to go to see the school medi-witch."OK," she muttered, as she pulled out her wand and touched the tip of it to the end of the cut, "this may sting a little; I'm not very good yet. However, it doesn't look very deep and Madam Pomfrey says that my Healing of minor injuries has really improved over the last couple of weeks. Integritas Consanesanui!" A soft stream of pale blue light sprang from the end of Ginny's wand and the cut on Hermione's leg instantly glowed the same color before shrinking smaller and smaller and finally disappearing all together.

Hermione smiled. "I knew you could do it, thanks, Gin." A few minutes later Ginny had seen Hermione to her room and was quietly making her way back to the her own shared quarters of the tower, thinking about what had happened that night. She was highly confused about several things, although she thought she had an inkling about why Harry had been so upset--not that he had any grounds to have treated her the way he had--but that cut of Hermione's made her wonder. She slipped into her room unnoticed and changed into her nightclothes with a flick of her wand before climbing gratefully into bed. As she sank into the soft overstuffed mattress and closed her eyes, Ginny wished that life weren't so complicated.

******

Harry stared after Ginny's retreating form, watching as she steadily grew smaller and smaller in his vision. Sure, he could have gone after her, caught up to her easily enough, but he rather figured that she would need some time to cool off, and he didn't relish another punch in the face. For a girl of such small stature, Ginny sure packed it in. He absently rubbed his faintly stinging cheek and returned to his seat on the log, thinking about how both the girls that he had been so close to now hated him. Well, Hermione, she had made her choice perfectly clear. Harry put his face in his hands and sighed deeply. If this was some sort of cruel trick by Voldemort then he certainly wasn't laughing.

******

The following Wednesday morning, Severus Snape sat at the desk in his dungeon classroom, and pondered how he might pull one over on the Dark Lord. It wouldn't be easy: one didn't simply hoodwink the second most evil wizard in the entire world (Morgan LeFay was not one to be reckoned with either). This would take careful planning. He needed to make sure he looked realistic. Of course, that would not be easy as, in order to do that, he needed to break the wards, and in order to do that, he needed the help and cooperation of the entire staff at Hogwarts, which he was rather certain they wouldn't give freely. He could just imagine the next staff meeting.

Albus: "Any new business? Anyone? Severus, any news on the 'dark side'?"

Severus: "Ah, yes Albus, now that you mention it. Attention everyone, I need you to dismantle any and all wards on the campus at precisely one in the morning on June the tenth so that the Dark Lord can rampage the castle and kill all those who dwell in it before they know what has hit them. Oh, don't worry, we won't let him actually kill anyone, well, maybe a few of the annoying students, like Pott--wait, we need him to win, don't we? Erm, never mind. We will only let him think that he can kill them. I'm sure we can handle a few hundred Death Eaters. Never mind the fact that as soon as they discover that I'm a turncoat they'll murder me on the spot and then you won't have anyone to spy for you. Don't worry, this is all a trick really, I'm attempting to fool the Dark Lord, I'm sure that he won't figure it out."

Yes, that would go over well. He growled into his coffee mug. The bitter liquid nearly made him gag, which was just as well, because he felt no particular urge to do otherwise at the moment. He always took it black; black as the soul that everyone except Albus suspected him of having, if they even believed he had one.

The students would be coming in soon. He knew that several of his House had joined the ranks of the Dark Lord. Their initiations had all been different: each had been asked to do something difficult. The Parkinson girl had been ordered to destroy a bridge laden with Muggle-filled motorcars, testing her resilience and whether or not she could stomach death. She had nearly fainted after managing to blast apart only half of the concrete structure. The Dark Lord had shaken his head, disgusted at her, but still allowed her to attend the coming ceremony at the end of the school year.
The Zabini boy had been told that he must murder his own little sister (about age eight, Severus supposed); she was too "good", the Dark Lord had said. Zabini had done it, his face considerably paler afterwards, but his eyes reflected the fact that he had set himself against feeling pain for her. He was no coward.
Come to think of it, all of the schoolchildren's rites of passage had had something to do with death. Some of the children though, Severus wasn't sure what they had been ordered to do, like the junior Malfoy for instance. With his father all buddy-buddy with the Dark Lord, Severus had the disturbing feeling that it had been something important.

He glanced at his watch, the gold time-piece that he kept clipped to the inside of his robes: two minutes until class was to start. There was a rustle at the door and a few students scuttled in. Gryffindors. Moments later, Draco Malfoy and his sidekicks, Crabbe and Goyle's two tubby sons, sauntered in. Well, Draco sauntered, the other two boys lumbered, there was no other way to describe it. One minute. More and more children came in and took their seats. Potter came in alone and sat at his usual table near the back of the room. He didn't look at anyone, but when he did catch someone's eye, he glared. In fact, that morning when he saw Draco, Severus was sure that Potter positively glowered at him. Interesting. He made a mental note to question the Slytherin boy later and find out by which good fortune he had managed to anger the pathetic Gryffindor so.

Weasley followed seconds later. He took a seat next to Potter, but there was a definite tension between them, Severus could tell. Granger entered last, Longbottom on her tail. The smart-aleck Head Girl and cowardly Head Boy took their seats across the room from the other two thirds of Granger's usual trio. Severus raised an eyebrow at this. Most interesting, indeed. As a matter of fact, the three Gryffindors didn't speak to each other the entire class period, not even when Severus purposely took twenty points from Potter for taking so long to gather his potion ingredients; in fact, she didn't speak at all.

The class proceeded relatively smoothly, likely due to the fact that with Granger not practically knocking over her stool every five minutes in her haste to answer a question, Severus was able to bark out instructions for the afternoon's potion and then sit at his desk with his hand over his eyes, and try and tune out the low chatter and occasional explosion from a potion gone wrong.

Class ended, and the students all filed out while Severus watched. Weasley and Thomas exited, followed closely by Crabbe, Finnigan, Goyle, Zabini and Parkinson. Granger was near the last to leave, Potter just ahead of her, and Severus watched with interest as Potter gave her a wide berth as they entered the hallway, carefully avoiding any contact with the girl. Malfoy was gathering his books and fiddling with something in his bag as he made his way out of the classroom, when Severus called him over.

"Mr. Malfoy, might you spare a moment to talk?" The tall Slytherin paused and glanced curiously back over his shoulder. However graciously his Head of House had phrased his words, it was clear that he had not been asking a question. He turned and walked slowly back up to Professor Snape's grand oak desk.

"Yes, Sir?"

"I was wondering if you had had your initiation yet? I have noticed that several of your fellow classmates have. Has your father discussed your task with you yet?" Severus asked smoothly, his cold, black eyes unblinkingly fixed upon boy. Draco allowed a slight smirk to cross his features.

"Oh yes, Sir. But I'm not at liberty to discuss what it is yet."

Severus straightened up in his chair and pinned the junior Malfoy with another penetrating gaze. "Come now, Draco, surely you can tell me."

Malfoy's eyes lit up slightly, glinting with suppressed malice as he glanced out the door into the empty hallway again before speaking, "Well, Sir, I will let you know that it's probably the most important task yet. After all, my father is an important member of the--well, of the Dark Lord's followers. He persuaded the Dark Lord to allow me to perform something vital to his plan. It will help make this world pure once again." The young boy's eyes flashed again, his breathing speeding up excitedly. "You can ask him, my father that is, if you wish to know more. But that's all I can say for now, Sir." With that, the snarky little son of Lucius Malfoy sauntered out of the classroom. Severus shook his head. He would certainly be talking to the boy's father, but he had the feeling that whatever he found out, he was not going to like.

******

Hermione walked quickly along the long, thin aisle in the library on Thursday night. It was nearly closing time. She glanced at her watch--wait--it was past closing time: ten-fifteen already? The tall, narrow windows let the inky night shadows into the already dimly lit library, and Hermione realized that the only reason that she hadn't been kicked out at approximately ten on the nose was that, as head girl, she was allowed certain privileges, and staying in the library after hours was apparently one of them.

She shifted her schoolbag onto her right shoulder, giving her left one a break from the strain of the weight of her schoolwork, and turned another corner, holding her wand out in front of her, the soft light at its tip glowing cheerily in the darkness. She was still far in the back of the large room and her eyes were only half open from weariness. Another aisle… now she was only six from the exit. Then she heard it. Footsteps. She froze. Who else, besides herself, would be in the library that late?

The footsteps sounded closer. Hermione took several steps back and lowered her bag to the floor as she peered through the small space between the books on the shelf at her eye level, and the bottom of the shelf above them. She could see the shadow of a tall figure making its way towards her.

"Nox!" she hissed quickly, extinguishing her light in a flash. She crouched down lower, pulling her black school robes closer around her body and trying to blend into the shadows. The figure came nearer and Hermione shrank closer and closer to the floor, trying to see through the semi darkness as Madam Pince had put out all the lanterns and candles when she left, save for a few left to light the way for Flich should he have need of them as he obviously didn't have aid of a wand if he needed light. The figure turned the corner into her aisle and Hermione suddenly jumped to her feet.

"You!" she cried, half triumphant, half terrified, her heart pounding. The person in front of her smirked, their face still obscured by shadow.

******

Harry sat up with a start, blinking in the darkness of his enclosed bed and trying to figure out why he had woken so suddenly. His mind was swimming, half with dreams and half with reality, as his fuzzy head tried to decipher what was going on. He checked his watch. It was barely ten-twenty, he had been asleep for only fifteen minutes; in fact he had fallen asleep with his clothes on. Harry lay back on his bed and groaned. He wanted to sleep and forget everything that had happened in the last few days.

He closed his eyes and mentally went over the things that he had to hand in the following day. A short essay for Transfiguration detailing the pros and cons of human transfiguring, a book report on goblin rebellions of 1743 for Professor Binns... He paused--wait--he hadn't finished that essay for McGonagall yet! In fact, Harry distinctly remembered throwing the first parchment aside, disregarding its few measly paragraphs, in order to play a game of Exploding Snap with Dean and Seamus, then seven games of Wizard's Chess with Ron because they kept tying the score and neither one would admit defeat... He had completely forgotten to finish it!

He pushed open his bed-hangings and swung his legs over the side of the bed as he grabbed his glasses and his wand. He stopped only to put on his shoes and grab the Invisibility Cloak and Marauder's Map from his trunk before exiting the dormitory as quietly as he could.

Harry made his way slowly through the deserted common room and out into the hallway. He glanced at the map and saw Flich moving somewhere in the Astronomy Tower, along with several pairs of dots which, until moments ago, had been nestled in close proximity with each other, then went scattering across the Tower in opposite directions, like numerous magnets that are propelled naturally away from each other. He hurried quickly down the hallway towards the library. He only needed a couple of books. If he worked hard, he could have the essay completed by midnight and still get some sleep. Unfortunately for him, he didn't bother to check the library for occupants.

******

"You," the boy snarled back, advancing on Hermione. She took another step back as Malfoy moved closer to her. "What's the little Mudblood doing in the library after hours? The little teacher's pet needs to get another extra credit assignment finished?" Hermione glared at him, stopping her backtracking so suddenly that Malfoy had to stumble to a halt only inches from her.

"Shut up, Malfoy, it's none of your business what I'm doing here. However, it's my business what you're doing out so late. Ten points from Slytherin for being out after hours," Hermione snapped, holding her head high and squaring her shoulders as she did her best to stare Draco down. He looked at her, surprise showing on his pointy facial features as he registered what she had just said to him.

"Out, Malfoy," Hermione said coldly, wishing that he would leave. Her schoolbag was cutting into her shoulder and she was tired. Draco straightened up and folded his arms across his chest.

"No," he said coolly.

"Fifteen points," Hermione said, annoyed that he was just standing there, "and get out of my way."

"I suppose that this is your way of getting back at me from our last encounter?" Draco asked causally, his cold grey eyes flashing, and he took another step toward her.

"Twenty!" Hermione snapped back, backing up again. Sure, she could be brave, but Draco was taller and stronger than her, and of course she wouldn't put it past him to try something again now they were alone in the dark library. She swallowed nervously, trying to keep up her brave front, but her annoyance at Malfoy was quickly being outweighed by the intimidation that his advancing figure was oozing as he came closer to her.

"I really don't think you know what you're doing," Malfoy said slowly, as he backed her down the book aisle to the dead-end which finished in a tall stained glass window. A few pale strains of moonlight streaks filtered on them.

"T-twenty-five points, I'm warning you, Malfoy..." Hermione choked out, feeling her back press up against the cold stone and glass of wall.

"Poor little Granger, whatever will I do? Oh, I know, how about I add some ears to go with those terrible teeth you have?" He paused to consider other options and Hermione bristled. Her teeth had been fine since fourth year and he knew it! "Or, maybe I could charm boils onto your ugly little face? To show the school what filth you Muggle-borns really are..." He fingered his wand almost lovingly as he continued to pretend to ponder what other horrible things he could do to her.

"T-thirty points, and I'll make it one hundred if you don't get back to your dormitory this instant!" Hermione forced out, fumbling for her own wand while trying to avoid alerting Draco that she was doing so. If he wanted to duel, she was going to go down fighting.

******

Harry slipped quietly into the library and began to make his way across the large, dark room.

He froze in mid-step; that had sounded like Hermione's voice.

"I suppose that this is your way of getting back at me from our last encounter?"

That other voice sounded like... Harry paused, feeling his heart speed up as his anger began to rise... That other voice just had to belong to--

"Twenty!"

"I really don't think you know what you're doing."

The voices then dropped somewhat and, although they were still obviously having an argument, Harry could no longer tell what they were saying. He whispered, "Lumos!" and unrolled the map. He muttered the spell to reveal the map and soon Harry's wandering eyes found his location in the library. The only other two dots on the map were labeled "Hermione Granger" and "Draco Malfoy". He felt hot and then cold at the same time, torn between getting out of there as fast as he could and ignoring them and getting his books. His suspicions had been correct. No one could mistake a voice like that: the cocky, condescending drawl that all Malfoys possesssed.

Suddenly, a shriek pierced the silent air of the room and Harry jerked his head up from the map, startled. That hadn't sounded good. With a curse, he jumped to his feet and sprinted off in the direction that the map had indicated his ex-best friend and eternal-enemy to be standing, his wand clutched tightly in his hand and the map stuffed hastily in his pocket.

******

Hermione bit down on her tongue, annoyed that she had allowed herself to submit to Malfoy's game. He had lifted his wand and muttered something under his breath that she couldn't quite make out, but the fact was, she hadn't managed to get to her wand yet and when Draco had raised his wand he had scared her. She had made a frantic lunge for her own wand and in the process overbalanced herself and landed, with a loud shriek, in a heap on the floor, Malfoy laughing down at her.

Hermione, now in a complete state of disarray, bordering on panic, turned her complete attention to her bag and began digging through her books frantically for the wand which had slid down to the bottom in her tumble.

"Why Granger, how many points will I lose for this?" Malfoy said, smirking down at her, and as soon as she lifted her head to look at him, he hissed something again under his breath as he lifted his wand--

"Petrificus Totalus!" a new voice suddenly cut in and Draco's entire body seized up before stiffening to that of a board, and he fell backwards with a crash. Hermione gasped, finally managing to yank her wand from her bag with a last frantic tug. She lowered it slowly as she realized who was standing behind Malfoy's frozen body.

Harry stared at Hermione, who was blinking up at him with wide eyes, and lowered his wand. He suddenly felt very tired.

"Harry..." she whispered quietly, then turned back to her books and began hurriedly shoving them back into her schoolbag. Harry continued to stare at the top of Hermione's busy head as the last few lines of the conversation he had overhead moments before replayed themselves inside his mind.

"Hermione..." he echoed, there was something about what Malfoy had said earlier that was nudging at the back of his mind.

"I suppose that this is your way of getting back at me from our last encounter?"

Harry stepped over Malfoy's sprawled form and knelt beside Hermione, whose body was shaking so badly she could barely get her books put away. She was doing her best not to look at him.

"Hermione," Harry said again, a little louder. She kept her face averted and tried to work faster. "Hermione, are you all right?" She stopped, but didn't lift her head.

"Harry, I..." She trailed off and Harry could see her shoulders begin to shake. "Thank you for--" She cut herself off and lifted her head suddenly, whipping her face around to look him in the eyes. "Harry, please! This isn't what it looks like. No, the last time wasn't what it looked like, this time was exactly what it looked like! Harry you've got to believe me! Malfoy and me? You know how impossible that is! H-Harry--"

She was crying. Harry's heart wrenched painfully as he watched Hermione kneeling in front of him, tears sliding down her cheeks as she pleaded with him. He didn't want her to cry. He hated that she was, hated that he was the cause of those tears. He leaned forwards suddenly and pulled her into his arms, his mouth working painfully as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Shh...I believe you, Hermione. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me for not believing you before. I-- I overheard you and Malfoy just now, what you said, what he said about...what happened the other day." He felt Hermione stiffen as he pulled her into his embrace and her arms hung limply in her lap as she rested her head awkwardly on his shoulder, and as he spoke she lifted them and clutched at the sleeves of his robes, drawing his arms closer and holding onto him tightly, but as soon as Harry finished speaking her arms came up and she pushed him back, away from her.

"Harry," she said brokenly, "how could you think that there was anything between me and him?" Her eyes glittered brightly with unshed tears in the moonlight and she looked so sad and disappointed that Harry's heart gave another painful twist.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, it just--it just looked so real. I was so shocked that I couldn't think straight. I know that I should have known better, please..." Harry found himself pleading back with her. Hermione drew back from him, her hands resting in her lap as she listened to him. She knew that she should feel angry with him for the way he had treated her the past few days, for him not believing her, for him assuming the worst about her, but she was just so relieved that he finally believed her.

"Harry..." she whispered, lifting a hand to gently caress his cheek with the backs of her fingers, and he caught her wrist with one of his hands, lowering her hand, and Hermione tensed as warmth flooded her cheeks at his gesture and she swallowed whatever else she was going to say.

"Please forgive me, Hermione, I was wrong, and stupid, and I really do care about you," Harry said in a low voice. Such a deep voice, Hermione's mind insisted on informing her, and despite it all she found herself blushing harder. She was thankful for the darkness. She tried to form words but her mind had turned its concentration to Harry's large, warm hand that was still holding her wrist gently in-between them.

"I forgive you," she whispered softly. Staring into his eyes, she nearly forgot everything that had happened over the past few days. He was staring back at her... leaning closer to her... his hand tightening slightly on her wrist...

Hermione blinked, as if she had just come out of a daze, and suddenly pulled her hand from his grasp. Harry blinked at her, confused.

"I'm--I'm sorry, Harry, I need to--think about some things. I'll see you later, OK?" With that, she leapt to her feet and hurried out of the library, leaving Harry staring after her, and Malfoy still solid as a statue, on the floor.