Inevitable Lovers

Chapter 3:

The next morning, Draco awoke early. Weak rays of sunlight began to filter through the curtains of his four-poster as he pulled them open, and he blinked against them, sleepy-eyed. Tempting though it was to lie in, he decided to take a walk around the lake while it was quiet, to brood over his Quidditch strategy. There was a large, beautifully decorated Opera and Coffee Crème Anglaise cake in a box on his mantelpiece, sent the day before straight from his mother. Draco lifted the lid gingerly and extracted a generous slice, deciding to completely bypass the Great Hall. He had the idea he would stop for Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle on the way to the lake, so he could talk over his plans with them.

Hermione had also been awake for some time. She dressed and spent a good five minutes brushing her thick chestnut hair through, to rid it of all the tangles. Descending the stairs to the common room, she decided to tackle a few of her Head Girl tasks while they were as yet, free from homework. Apparently, the Head Boy and Girl were also required to organise a meeting with the prefects during the next week.

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, she saw that Draco Malfoy was just about to leave the tower, poised at the open portrait door. She watched as he started in surprise.

'Pansy! What do you wa- are you all right?'

Hermione crept furtively back up the stairs a little.

'No! Draco, I thought you wanted us to be together!' Pansy Parkinson was sobbing dramatically. 'What that all about last night? I just want to talk to you!' Her voice rose to something of a wail.

Frankly, Draco thought she was piling on the hysterics entirely unnecessarily. Tutting, he patted her gingerly, as if she might suddenly go for him.

'Look, Pansy, I think you're taking this all out of proportion,' he said, trying to pacify her. He couldn't stand it when people cried openly, especially girls; it made him feel awkward. 'Why don't you...take the day off or something?'

'I don't want a day off, I want you to stop being distant with me! Just tell me what's wrong,' she said in a small voice, staring up at him. Her eyes widened, seemingly pleading. His gaze ranged over her artfully shortened pleated skirt, robes open at the neck, hair pulled up into high pigtails.

'Nothing, Pansy. Nothing's wrong.' He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 'Look, just forget about last night, it was all my fault.' He hoped he was saying the right thing. He gently tried to nudge her out of the portrait door. 'Now just go and get some breakfast, and you'll be fine.'

'Okay Draco,' Pansy gave a watery smile. 'It's just, I wouldn't want my mother to hear I'm upset...or your father,' she said innocently.

We definitely wouldn't want that, thought Draco. 'Well, why don't you let me take you out? The next Hogsmeade weekend...just go and find out when it is,' he said vaguely.

'Oooh, that would be lovely!' Pansy breathed, tears forgotten. Giving a knowing smirk, she turned retreated back down the corridor.

Hermione stifled a laugh. Oh, I wish Harry and Ron could've seen that. Fancy Malfoy being bribed. Ironic, given what his father's famous for...She continued to the bottom of the staircase and strode over to the portrait.

Draco turned, sensing a presence. Hermione was now halfway across the room.

'What?' he snapped.

'Nothing! I'm allowed to be here just as much as you, you know.'

Draco sighed again in annoyance. His plans had been interrupted, and he had no time for witticisms now. He couldn't even begin to have Granger's face against Pansy's in his mind at that moment. He turned to leave once more.

'Wait,' said Hermione, softly. She cleared her throat. 'Look, have you read this list?' she pointed to the duties. 'You have actually got to do these tasks. We're going to be inspected at the end of the week as well, you know, s-'

'Since when have you been allowed to tell me what to do? Why don't you go and find Scarface and the Weasel King?' His eyes narrowed in distaste, before the portrait door slammed shut behind him.

Hermione grimaced. Nothing angered her more than when people let work slip, especially if it meant she could get into trouble as well. Especially if it was Malfoy. And with that, she decided to hold their first Prefects Meeting in the Muggle Studies classroom, whether Malfoy liked it or not.

Fifteen minutes later, Draco was once again feeling triumphant, having discussed his tactics with Crabbe and Goyle. They made a complete circle around the vast lake, warming their hands in their pockets, debating. Crabbe and Goyle would remain as Beaters, as Draco thought their strength was more important than the fact that speed wasn't their greatest asset. Besides, Draco had enough to worry about finding three new Chasers and a Keeper.

'So what do you think about Malcolm Baddock? Someone told me his brother played Quidditch here twenty years ago...'

***

By this time, Pansy was sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall excitedly telling Blaise Zabini about her victory with Draco.

'So now Blaise, Draco is taking me out to Hogsmeade...just the two of us,' she said smugly. 'I told you he'd being eating out of my hand soon enough, didn't I?' Pansy loved to think she was in control, so she frequently twisted or exaggerated certain details to make her stories sound more impressive.

Blaise raised her eyebrows, delicately tucking her long dark hair behind her ear. There was nothing to be done with Pansy sometimes, although she frequently became frustrated with her naivety.

'Pansy, it might be better if you weren't so...eager,' she said dryly. 'Why do you need Draco to make you feel better? You're always chasing him...' no wonder he gets irritated...

'But Blaise,' protested Pansy, 'we're just meant to be together!' She lowered her head and looked intensely at Blaise, her blue eyes wide. 'He's the only boy I've ever slept with, we lost our virginity to each other. That's really special.'

Pansy had no idea, of course, that Draco had been with anyone else. Draco had no idea, of course, that Pansy cared about him this much. But she did, she really did, underneath any act she might put on. Sometimes she thought she would do absolutely anything for Draco.

Admittedly, Draco had paid much more attention to Pansy when they first started having sex, although they weren't really considered "an item" by anyone in Slytherin. Mainly, Draco didn't want to be tied down by Pansy, so he just took her out when she wanted attention, and made sure Crabbe and Goyle didn't parade the fact that he had been with a couple of other girls (Slytherins, of course, both had been in the year above.)

Then Pansy spied Ginny Weasley place a fleeting kiss on Harry Potter's lips across the Great Hall, at the Gryffindor table.

'Besides, I'm glad I'm with Draco. Imagine being with someone like that disgusting Potter,' she said contemptuously.

***

Hermione just about made it into Muggle Studies on time, out of breath. After leaving the tower, she had collided with the Creevey brothers in a small, rarely used corridor. Dennis Creevey, the smaller of the two, was precariously balanced on a rickety wooden stepladder, a hand outstretched, pointing his wand at one of the paintings on the wall. Colin was standing at the foot of the ladder, holding it steady, and urging is brother to "just do it, it's only a colour-changing spell!"

When Dennis saw Hermione, he nearly fell off the ladder.

'What's going on?' asked Hermione sternly.

'Nothing, Hermione,' said Colin slightly nervously. 'It's this painting, see, it keeps yelling insults at Dennis, so we thought we'd...teach it a lesson. Only, he cast the wrong spell, so...' he trailed off.

Hermione looked. The subject of the painting, a young, cheeky-looking wizard, was trying to dodge out of the way as he was chased by a fierce red dragon who snapped its jaws viciously. Quickly, she cast a restoration charm, and the dragon vanished. Now the boy began to laugh and pull faces at the three below it.

'Need I remind you that this is a painting, and you should just ignore it?' she said. 'I won't confiscate House Points this time, but any more tricks like this and it'll have to be detention. I don't know what you were trying to do - but if you use charms you don't understand, you could cause serious damage. Understood?'

'Okay, okay,' said Colin. 'Won't happen again.' He perked up. 'Have you seen Harry Potter lately?'

'Oh, erm, well I'm not too sure where he is right at the moment,' said Hermione, much to Dennis' disappointment.

'Never mind, Dennis,' said Colin enthusiastically. 'I'm sure Harry will want to try out my new Wizarding chess set after dinner!'

Hermione smiled as she walked away. Harry would, no doubt, be grateful for her discretion. But perhaps it would be good for them to play chess...I'm sure Harry is a real inspiration to them...

Disregarding this, since Fred and George's dramatic departure from Hogwarts in the fifth year, certain other pupils in the school had tried to follow on, wreaking mischief and mayhem. None had quite succeeded, but Hermione hoped that Colin and Dennis weren't about to join the fray. Fred and George, of course, were in a league of their own...legends in their own right...

As she had had no time for breakfast that morning, Hermione only caught up with Harry during Herbology, which Ron didn't take. While waiting outside Greenhouse Seven, Ernie McMillan congratulated her heartily on becoming Head Girl, and was keen to express his annoyance that Malfoy was Head Boy.

'I just think there were...others who deserved the job,' he said indignantly, his envy not being lost on Hermione.

Inside the greenhouse, the class was studying the Alihotsy plant. Professor Sprout had instructed them to prune each plant in front of them with the various instruments on the desks, and try to find the technique that would cause the Alihotsy to display some sort of magical power. Neville Longbottom had sat very near the front, listening eagerly. He seemed very cheerful these days, especially as he didn't have to worry about Potions anymore (Professor Snape had personally told him with twisted relish that he would not be accepting him in his class after his "abysmal" performance in his Potions OWL).

Harry didn't seem to be paying much attention to Professor Sprout; his mind wandering to Quidditch, as was commonplace at the start of term. After they had been instructed to start, he couldn't help but bring the subject up, and she listened and nodded as she clipped and prodded her plant, occasionally tapping it with her wand. The main thing Hermione noted was that Harry thought she had the perfect opportunity to spy on Malfoy's Quidditch plans, as they shared living quarters, and Hermione didn't bother to protest that it really was out of the question.

She could only really arrange her face into an expression of polite interest as Harry backed up his complicated theories with examples of tactics that had been used by famous players; she soon started to lose track, especially given that the Alihotsy was seemingly prone to viciousness - the small tendrils that had looked harmless at first had snaked towards her arms, making small whipping motions. She muttered a spell under her breath, trying to subdue it.

'...and Viktor Krum was pretty good at that too,' said Harry, looking at her expectantly.

Hermione cleared her throat. She had no idea what he was talking about, having been trying to force the offending tendrils back into the pot. She murmured a "yes, that's right."

'Written to Krum lately, anyway?' asked Harry.

'Oh - no, I haven't,' said Hermione.

'Ron was asking about it,' explained Harry. 'He was wondering if you'd "written to Vicky yet," actually.'

'Well, I don't see what it's got to do with Ron!' said Hermione severely, refusing to see the funny side. In truth, she was rather alarmed. Ron caring enough to ask Harry about such matters was definitely not a good sign.

Shortly after, however, the bell rang, and Hermione and Harry left for their next lesson, Charms.

Inside the classroom, Draco Malfoy was listless. They were practising Locomotion Charms, and the pieces of fruit they were working on hummed noisily as they started to move. Even though Vincent Crabbe was muttering something in his ear, and the class was noisy with the chatter and humming coming from nearly every table, his mind was on other things - like Hermione Granger. Try as he might, he couldn't help dwelling on the image of her face from the previous night. Okay, so he had been half-naked, but for a second, she had looked - argh! he thought furiously. Let's face it. She's a Mudblood, and you could get any girl in the school - within reason. Why should you care if she would never look twice at you in a million years! What was it his father always said? A Malfoy should always have the upper hand. Draco just wished it were true.

***

Later that evening, after most students had eaten dinner and began to retreat to their commons rooms, Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to pay Hagrid a visit. Strictly speaking, students weren't allowed to be out on the grounds when it was dark, especially given Voldemort's whereabouts were currently unknown, but Harry thought it would be fine if they used the Invisibility Cloak. The look on his face had been predictable when Hermione informed him that the Creevey brothers were expecting a chess marathon later, and they had spent a good ten minutes thinking up "excuses" so he could avoid it, finally deciding on this one.

Hermione hadn't wanted to go, but after being assured by Harry that all three of them could even handle a Dementor thanks to the illegal DA from the fifth year, they wouldn't be in great danger. As they left the Great Hall, Hermione spied someone petite, with short, spiky, fiery red hair walk across the Entrance Hall, accompanied by two taller men she didn't recognise.

'Look, look over there! It's Tonks!' she cried, pointing. Harry and Ron saw her too.

'What's she doing here?' wondered Ron.

'Isn't it obvious?' said Hermione, rolling her eyes. 'She's an Auror, so she must be guarding the school!' Suddenly, Tonks turned her head and caught Hermione's eye. She grinned broadly, and winked. Then she and the two men moved on.

Hermione looked anxious now. 'Maybe we should see Hagrid tomorrow, when it's light,' she said, casting a look at the darkening ceiling of the Great Hall. 'I didn't realise how serious the situation was, and I don't want to get caught by Aurors.'

'Oh, Hermione, we'll be fine,' said Harry, waving a hand to dismiss her fears.

'No, Harry, we won't,' she said. 'And, as Head Girl, I really don't think I should watch you two go and break the rules.

Ron looked at Hermione in disbelief. 'Hermione - this is us! Your best friends! Don't even think of dropping us in it!'

'Harry - Ron, please don't go. I won't report you - but Hagrid might not even like it, you two sneaking out at night.'

'I suppose you've got a point,' said Harry gloomily. 'Come on Ron. SE you later, Hermione.'

'Meet us in the common room tomorrow, then,' said Ron. 'If you're allowed.'

And with that, they trooped up the stairs towards the Gryffindor tower.

Convinced she had done the right thing; Hermione turned to the other direction and went to her own common room. When she got there, she found a few scraps of screwed up parchment scattered across the table, and saw a pair of pale, long-fingered hands resting over the top of the tall armchair by the fire.

Hermione needed to do her homework, whether Malfoy was there or not. Silently, she took her bag to the opposite chair and started to get out her Transfiguration notes, without looking at Malfoy. The essay they had to complete was rather complicated, and included a labelled diagram of the spell model required to turn a cat into a dog.

She had written only the first paragraph, when Malfoy loudly scrunched up another piece of parchment. She looked over. His tie was undone and loose, and his shirt was open at the neck, the tails untucked. He leaned back against the armchair again with his hands behind his head.

'I don't suppose you've done McGonagall's essay,' he said coldly.

'I'm doing it now,' said Hermione pointedly.

'Why does the skeleton of the animal make the spell difficult?' Malfoy asked in a rush.

Hermione blinked. 'Are you asking me for help?' she asked incredulously.

'No, I'm just checking my answers.'

'It doesn't look like you've done any work.'

'All right, I'm finding this difficult, only because McGonagall's a crap teacher,' Malfoy insisted. 'But then, she is head of Gryffindor.'

'If you insult me, my House or my friends, I won't help you,' Hermione snapped. As she usually knew all the answers, she generally didn't mind helping people when they were stuck with work. Though usually it was her friends, not someone who constantly insulted her and called her names.

'Do you think I want to get help from you?' Draco drawled. 'No one else knows the answers, do they? I bet you let Potter copy you all the time,' he added almost resentfully.

'Harry,' said Hermione, 'happens to be my friend.' She gritted her teeth. 'And I never let anyone copy my work. Now do you want me to explain this or not?'

'Well, just tell m-'

'And before I do, I'm going to make you a deal. If I help you with your homework, you have to start taking your duties seriously.'

'Bloody hell, Granger. It's just one essay...'

'Right, well, this is how it works...' and Hermione explained the whole spell, in detail. Surprisingly, Malfoy seemed to actually be learning something. Hermione couldn't help it, she loved explaining things that seemed so easy to her but were hard for others. When she had finished, Malfoy nodded grudgingly.

'Thanks, Granger.' And with that, he bent over and began to write what she had just told him with a handsome, expensive-looking feather quill.

Hermione was stunned. Wow, I can't believe he actually listened. Maybe he's not as evil as I thought...She stared at him for a moment, strands of his silver-blond hair falling from his forehead, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration. His face was really quite delicate, and graceful, when you thought about it. But she hadn't, she hadn't really thought about kissing Malfoy. The idea was preposterous. Yet she did wonder, what it would be like to touch those lips with her own...

Abruptly, she seized her quill, and began to write furiously, her face slightly hot. When she had finished, half an hour later, she picked up her bag, intending to go up to her room.

Malfoy's voice made her halt, before continuing up the stairs. 'Granger...goodnight.'