Demons, Death Eaters and Malfoys

Chapter Two.

Harry's Revelation.

Oh, God, where the hell is he? Hermione thought nervously. She looked around the deserted entrance hall by the Grand Staircase. There was no sign of him. She checked her watch, reading 11:07.

Maybe he forgot! She thought. Maybe it was all just a cruel joke to keep me up so I'd fall asleep in class tomorrow! Maybe he got caught up! Maybe he never meant to come! Maybe-

"Hello, Hermione."

Fuck! Hermione slowly turned to face where the voice came from. There, she saw Draco Malfoy, standing tall, looking smug.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he replied somewhat snidely.

"Malfoy!"

"I want to talk about what happened last year, okay?" Hermione's heart turned to ice. She had had a feeling that this was coming, deep down she had known, but it still didn't mean that she was ready for it. She immediately turned her facial emotions blank; she didn't want him to see any of her pain. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"I thought you never wanted to talk about it again?" smirked Hermione in a low, icy voice. Draco took a deep breath and opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. He looked into Hermione's eyes, pleading with his own. She softened. She didn't want to get hurt again, but there was something about his eyes...

You can always tell what a person is feeling by looking into their eyes, her grandmother had once told her. Eyes, she had said, never lie. They can never and will never lie. They can't. She bit her lip as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Just let it go," she whispered, the tears threatening to spill over. He didn't say anything. He just looked down. This was too much for her to bear. She couldn't do this.

Why did I ever come down here? Her heart wretched. She turned and started to walk away.

"I'm not," called Draco. Hermione wasn't sure if she'd heard what she thought she just heard, but she hoped in her heart of hearts that she had heard him correctly. She stopped and turned. He looked up.

"I'm not over it," he whispered, stepping up to her.

"Wh- what did you just say?" she stammered. Draco stepped forward again, stopping just an inch short of her. He heard her sharp intake of breath and smiled inwardly. Secretly, he liked that he could do that to her. He heard her breathing become shorter and quicker. He leaned into her and for a second she hesitated, and stumbled back a step or two. He stepped even closer and leaned in so that their noses were just about touching.

"I'm not over you," he muttered, moving in to kiss her. He heard another sharp intake of breath just as he put his lips on hers.

His hands roamed her body as he kissed her hungrily. He had been missing this all summer, and he had a lot of catching up to do.

God, I'm in heaven! He thought. I'm loving this!

His hands traveled over her back, stroking her lightly, then traveling down over her hips and buttocks, while Hermione's hands ran through his thick, white blonde hair and massaging his head and neck. Then suddenly, she pulled away and looked on a him in utter horror. He smirked.

"What's wrong? Am I going a bit too fast for you?" he whispered teasingly, his arms sliding around her waist. She ripped his arms off her and stepped back, that strange look of horror still prominent on her face.

He looked around and suddenly realized that she wasn't looking at him.

§§§

"Where the hell is Hermione?" said Ron, looking around the common room, and theack at Harry, who was waiting up with him. Harry shrugged.

"No idea," replied Harry. "But you would think that even she would know better than to be out and about this late on the first night, especially during our NEWT year!" Ron jumped up.

"I'm going to look for her," he announced, heading over to the portrait hole. "Are you coming?"

Harry hesitated.

"I don't know about this, Ron," he said. "She might not want to be found. You saw how strangely she was acting today!"

"Come on, Harry! You know it isn't like her to do this sort of thing! She's the one that's always going mental at us for staying out too late, because we 'need to be able to concentrate in class'!" Harry contemplated the thought, and then shook his head before translating what he said a moment ago into a language that Ron might understand. He stood, took Ron by the shoulders and spoke slowly.

"Ron," he said. "I know, it's obvious that something is bothering Herm, but we can't bother her about it! Then she won't tell us anything at all!" Ron huffily flopped into an armchair.

"I don't see why she just can't tell us," he replied. "We are her best friends!" Harry shrugged.

"It could just be some kind of girly/hormone thing," suggested Harry. "Anyway, why are you so bugged by this? I mean, yeah, I know we're her best friends but we don't need to know everything about her!" Ron turned red.

"I- I just- I was- I mean- oh, never mind," said Ron, blushing a deeper crimson. Harry raised one eyebrow and contemplated another thought.

"Ron, do you fancy Hermione?"

§§§

"Uh- eh- my- the- Professor McGonagall!" squeaked Hermione. McGonagall glared at both of them.

"When Mr. Filch informed me that two students were out of bed, I never in my wildest dreams imagined that it would be the two of you!" she shrieked. "Of all the- Miss Granger! Of all people! You would be the one that I least expected!" she looked to Draco.

"Detention for you, Mr. Malfoy. I expect to see you in my office, eight o'clock sharp tomorrow- not so fast, Miss Granger! I'm not done with you!" she looked to Draco again, giving him a deathly glare. "You can go, Mr. Malfoy." She watched him walk reluctantly down the hall and out of sight before turning back to Hermione.

"Hermione Granger!" McGonagall quietly admonished. "Just what did you think you were doing, carrying on with Draco Malfoy in such a fashion?" she asked.

"Professor-"

"Miss Granger, do you have any idea of what he could do to you? What he could do to your reputation? Do you have any idea of what his reputation is like?"

"Professor-"

"I'm not here to lecture you, Hermione," she said softly. "I just don't want to see you throw your life, your good reputation away to someone that doesn't care much about anything besides himself!"

"Professor, I-" McGonagall held up a hand to silence her.

"Don't say anything," said McGonagall. "Just think about what I said."

And with that, she disappeared down the hall.

§§§

Draco sat on the edge of his bed and put his head in his hands.

Oh, God, McGonagall! Could it get any worse?! He thought to himself.

It could have been Snape, nagged a little voice. Or even worse...your father! He shuddered at the thought. He exhaled deeply before dragging himself into bed, eusted. Thoughts of Hermione and the kiss came into his mind, and he fell into a deep sleep, a smile playing on his lips.

§§§

"What?!" spluttered Ron.

"Just what I said," replied Harry simply. "Do you fancy Hermione?"

The tips of Ron's ears turned red, giving Harry the affirmative.

"Wh- why- what- what gave you that idea?" he said, turning an even deeper shade of crimson.

"It's obvious!" said Harry. "You won't stop talking about her, you're constantly glancing at her-" he looked Ron straight in the eye. "-and don't think I haven't seen you daydreaming- in her direction!"

Ron shook his head.

"You're bloody mental," he replied.

"I know you, Ron! I've seen the way you've been acting around her for the past few weeks!"

Ron continued to shake his head.

"Seriously, Ron," said Harry. "I've known that the pair of you fancied each other for the past few years!"

Ron looked up, surprised.

"You think she likes me as well?" asked Ron, his brown eyes wide. Harry nodded.

"For sure," he replied. "She just- Hermione! Hi!" Ron looked to the portrait hole, alarmed.

"Hi guys," mumbled Hermione, seeming to be in a daze. "Gotta go to bed. First night an' all." They watched her, amazed, as she trudged up the stairs to her dormitory.

"What was that all about?" asked Ron. Harry shrugged, giving a look of utter bewilderment.

"I have absolutely no idea," he replied, shaking his head.

"Women," grumbled Ron, struggling to get uop from the armchair. "I'm off to bed," he mumbled. "Night."

"Night," replied Harry. He watched Ron walk up the stairs and into the dorm, and once he was out of sight Harry sighed and flopped down into an armchair.

God, I was right! He thought. Ron does like Hermione! This ruins everything! He sighed again. God, she's changed so much. She used to be so geeky! Nice, but geeky. But now...God, she's beautiful! I just wish that Ron wasn't my competition! God, him! Why did it have to be him?

§§§