On the Edge of a Cliff

Draco Malfoy was sat on his bed, glaring at his gold shining badge. He'd always wanted to be Head Boy, hadn't he? It gave him even more power than he'd had when he was a prefect. Now he didn't have to listen to what that smug git James Williams said; now he was in charge of everyone. Except that he had to share his power. He wouldn't have minded that, either. Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff he could cope with; Becky Silverdove from Ravenclaw was quite nice. But not that Mudblood girl... Urgh!

But he was conflicted. When he'd seen her deal with those two third years the other day... Merlin! He'd always liked powerful girls... and he always liked what he couldn't have. The Malfoy charm did get him cute blonds but they tended to be ditzy. But it was strange - he'd never been attracted to brunettes before. Especially Gryffindor Mudbloods.

But now she'd done something with her hair and sorted out those chipmunk teeth she was actually quite pretty...

Draco mentally shook himself. He wasn't going to start thinking like that - like some inane Hufflepuff.

But tomorrow was the day. The day of the private meeting between Head Boy, Draco Malfoy, and Head Girl, Hermione Granger. How was he going to survive it?

***

Harry Potter flopped backwards on to his bed. His best friend Ron Weasley scowled over at him.

"You're moping."

"What?"

Harry pushed himself up on to his elbows, frowning.

"You're moping," repeated Ron. "Over Hermione. I can't believe you. Getting so hung up on a girl!"

"Oh, come on!" cried Harry, "What was all that in fourth year? The Krum thing?"

"A waste of time," replied Ron, sitting down next to Harry. "She obviously likes you."

"You think so?"

"I know so," said Ron, "Now let’s go back down to the common room so we can discuss something more important, like Quidditch."

Harry fell back on to the bed again.

"What should I do, Ron?"

The redheaded boy pulled him back up.

"Ask her out if you must," he said. "Now come on. Talking about feelings can lead you down all sorts of dangerous roads. Sooner or later we'll start talking about what marks we want to get in the next Potions lesson and commenting on each other's hair."

Harry grinned.

"Thanks, Ron."

"No problem," said Ron, also grinning. "Now come on! Before we go fruity!"

***

"That should be about it." Hermione shuffled the papers in a business like manner. "Glad we got that sorted."

"Yeah," muttered Draco.

Hermione gave him an odd look.

"Er..." he quickly invented. "Yeah. Boy am I glad I don't have to spend any more time with a Mudblood like you!"

She gave him a look halfway between annoyance and suspicion. She wasn't buying it. He had called her a Mudblood four times now - his heart wasn't in it anymore.

But it was true! He hated having to spend so much time with a filthy Mudblood who simply didn't realise that she wasn't worthy of his extremely valuable time. But at the same time, he was fascinated by the way she twisted her now gorgeously smooth flowing brown hair around her forefinger. He just couldn't understand it.

Then, a thought hit him - or it could have been a piece of falling masonry: you could never trust these towers. But he got an idea nevertheless.

Ask her out.

Ask her to the Yule ball. It wouldn't hurt. She'd say 'no' and he'd get it out of his system. Or she'd insist on hanging around with those idiotic Muggle-lovers of friends and he could flatly refuse, thereby resolving the situation with a minimum amount of fuss. Excellent.

"One final thing," said Hermione. "The Yule ball. Can we make sure no-one spikes the drink this time? I know some pupils thought it was funny," she shot him a dirty look, "when Dean threw up, but I'm in charge this time, so that means no alcohol."

She looked up; shocked not to hear him complain about her claiming that she was in charge.

"Talking about the Yule ball," began Draco slowly. "Do you have a date yet?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Well if you didn't Hermione," he continued at the same steady pace. "I was wondering if you'd, you know, like to go with me."

"Malfoy," said Hermione, as slowly as him.

"Yes?"

"You just said 'you know.'"

"Yes."

"Malfoy?"

"Yes."

"You just called me Hermione."

"Yes."

She began to tuck her hair behind her ears nervously.

"Um...Draco..."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

Draco wasn't sure why he did what he did, but he was certainly glad he did. He reached across the prefect table, pulled the front of Hermione's robe forward and, slowly, laid his lips against hers.

***

Harry sat at a table, glaring at the dancing Hermione and Malfoy. Hermione was wearing her hair up and a beautiful periwinkle dress. Even worse, she was laughing a lot.

Ron sidled over, cautiously. He had come with Padma Patil again; they were apparently getting on more now Ron had become the star chaser on the Quidditch team. He sat down next to Harry and followed his gaze, then clopped Harry on the back of his head.

"Oi!" cried Harry, rubbing his head. "Oh. Hello, Ron."

Ron sighed. "You're useless, you are," he said, "You didn't ask her out when you had the chance and now you're acting just like you did with Cho Chang in fourth year."

Harry sighed exasperatedly.

"Harry," said Ron, gently. "Just because she's here with Malfoy, doesn't mean she doesn't like you. She might just have given up on the idea of you asking her. I mean, you haven't paid much attention to her, have you?"

Harry tore his eyes away from the happy couple to stare at his best friend, shocked.

"Ron!" he cried, "That's amazingly insightful of you!"

"I like to think I have a way with the ladies," said Ron, smugly.

Harry raised his eyebrows, Ron dropped the swagger.

"All right," he explained, "All you have to do is grab Hermione before the next dance and tell her how you feel. Then, she gasps and says," Ron put on a high squeaky voice. " 'Oh, Harry! I had no idea you felt that way!' She completely forgets about Malfoy, falls into your arms and... poof! You've got your dream girl. Meanwhile, I'm round the back, snogging Padma and we're both happy."

Harry considered all this. All aside from the Ron snogging Padma part of course. It could work.

Harry got up from his seat and strolled across the hall, just as the dance ended. Hermione took a step back from Malfoy and Harry seized her arm.

"Hermione," he said, "I need to talk to you."

"Push off, Potter," Malfoy growled.

"Leave it, Malfoy," retorted Harry.

"Draco," said Hermione, "Give us a moment, would you?"

Draco glared and took a step backwards. He kept his eyes on Hermione the whole time, as if he was guarding his property.

Hermione sighed and turned to Harry.

"What's the matter, Harry?"

Harry stared up in to her eyes. He'd never realised how pretty they looked.

"Er..." he stammered.

Oh no! He was completely tongue-tied. He had no idea what to say. And she was just staring at him, waiting patiently for him to get it out, pour out his soul to her. But he couldn't. Why couldn't he?

"Um..." he took a deep breath and tried again. "Garg yeus ferf mer?"

Hermione smiled politely. She thought he was a madman, didn't she? Harry swallowed.

"Hermione?"

Hermione's smile brightened.

"Yes?"

"I... kush shun duth."

Her face fell. Harry gave up, and kissed her. It would have been deep, it would have been passionate, it would have been great! It would have been all that and more if someone hadn't pulled him away from her. Draco's hand was holding Harry's collar, twisting it to cut off all breathing possibilities.

"Get your paws off her," he snarled.

"You're just a back-up, Malfoy," gasped Harry, "And you know it."

There was a sensation of speed, great speed. Then pressure, great pressure. Then finally pain, great pain... in the nose.

Harry's leg moved of its own accord. Then Draco pounced. Harry fought at him with his elbows, kicked wherever he could with his legs and used his knee to the greatest use available to him. Draco's nails scratched at Harry's face and pulled at his hair while his fists aimed for anything it could find.

Hermione stood over them, shocked to silence. Then she kicked them using the high heel on her shoe, adding to the pain.

Ron and Goyle took this as their cue to rush forward and drag the boys up and away from each other. Draco wiped some blood off his chin. Harry rubbed a bruise on his leg. Hermione stared at both of them, she looked furious.

"What is your problem?!" she cried, "I mean, I thought you were both so nice and... and... normal! But you're insane!"

"I was just--" Harry started.

"Ah!"

"Hermione, I--" Draco began.

"Ah!"

"Hermione, Harry just--" Ron tried.

"Bah!"

"Will you let us talk?!"

"No!" Hermione shouted. "No more talking! No more dancing! Will you two just LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!"

***

It was the end-of-school dance.

Harry sat in one corner of the Hall with Ron next to him. Harry had his arms folded over his chest in determination and was looking straight ahead. Ron was sulking because Harry wouldn't let him go off and dance with Padma.

"You know he's been bugging her again," said Harry.

Ron sighed. He didn't need to ask who he or her was. They were all Harry had been going on about for months.

"I mean look at me," He continued, "I did everything she asked: I left her alone. I know when Hermione really means something. But Malfoy, oh no! He'll bug and bug and bug."

"I can see how that'd be annoying."

"Well shame on him," said Harry, ignoring Ron's comment. "Hermione'll see sense and when she does, she'll come back to me. I know she will. We belong together. You said so yourself, Ron."

"Oh, why did I say so?"

"He'll see."

Draco sat at the other corner of the hall next to Crabbe and Goyle. Each one of them had come alone. Draco was staring straight ahead.

"She dumped me," he said. "Just like that. Poof! You think I'd be pleased, but I'm not. I'm miserable, you know?"

Goyle and Crabbe nodded in agreement. They knew. They may be... er... what's the word... means... um... not... er... smart? Anyway, they may be... un-smart but they could tell when someone was miserable. Especially when the person kept on mentioning it over and over and over and over...

"But that's going to end tonight!" Draco declared.

Crabbe and Goyle were immensely relieved.

"I'm going to win her back! I've got a cunning plan..."

The band started up for the first slow dance of the evening. Ron turned and looked at Harry.

"Look," he said, "You can sit here and be boring but I'm going to ask Padma to dance before she--"

He stopped there because someone was singing, and it wasn't the band.

Draco Malfoy stepped off the stage and moved towards a stunned Hermione. He smiled nervously as the extremely rehearsed lyrics flowed from his mouth,

"Maybe I didn't treat you
Quite as good as I should have
Maybe I didn't love you
Quite as often as I could have
Little things I should have said and done
I just never took the time

You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind

Maybe I didn't hold you
All those lonely, lonely times
And I guess I never told you
I'm so happy that you're mine
If I made you feel second best
Girl, I'm sorry I was blind

You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind

Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn't died
Give me, give me one more chance
To keep you satisfied, satisfied…"

As the band played Draco flicked his wand and three butterflies came out the end. Hermione gasped with delight as they circled her.

"Little things I should have said and done
I just never took the time
You were always on my mind
You are always on my mind."

Harry stared in amazement. He couldn't! She wouldn't... this could not be happening to him.

"You are always on my mind…"

Hermione put her hand to her heart. She brushed the butterflies away and they turned in to a shower of petals that fell about her. Without bothering to brush the flowers out of her hair she stepped forward, seized Draco's shirt, pulled him towards her, and kissed him.

Across the hall Harry slumped back down in to his chair, his mouth still wide open in shock. He made some quick calculations and came to a conclusion:

"This is the worst day of my life."