Divine Humiliation

Divine Humiliation

Someday, she would remember this moment, retch, and pretend it never happened.

Or, perhaps, she didn't even have to remember this moment, for she could just trick Harry or Ron into performing a Memory Charm on her. That way, the spell would surely go horribly wrong and she would forget everything about her or the major detail that her name was Hermione Granger and she did, in fact, like to be kissed by one Draco sodding Malfoy.

It wasn't like she hadn't been kissed before. Of course she had had her share of kisses, pecks, and all things done with two mouths, but none was ever this... good. Okay, so good was a relatively tame word to describe how this kiss was going because in truth it was great and amazing and awesome and very, very addicting.

But to be safe, when asked about it she would say it was just plain good. And of course, in the future she'd definitely be having better kisses than this one. Better than good, actually, which is just redundant because better is better than good. And she would enjoy that kiss were it to come, because she knew - she just knew - it wouldn't be coming from one Draco Malfoy, sod extraordinaire.

And wasn't it just brilliant of her that she could still rationalize while caught smack in the middle of the greatest and most amazing and most awesome kiss of her life?

With this rationalization came the realization that she was indeed kissing one sodding Draco Malfoy. And she liked it! She was still liking it, she thought, as his lips did an unimaginable number on her tongue and ooohhh...

She gripped at his arms tightly, knowing that if she didn't then she might fall into that terrible cliché of her actually falling over, inevitably resulting to her having a more... intimate contact with him. But Malfoy clearly had other plans. He snaked his hands around her waist, pulling her closer to him that inevitably resulted to a more... intimate contact between them.

Not that she minded. Much.

This has to stop. NOW, if you please!

Right. Yes! Of course it had to stop. Stopping. Really. Any moment now. Stopping. Jerking to a halt. Halting. Going on recess. Pausing. Putting everything on hiatus. Stopping. Pulling a breather. Right. Yes.

Got... to... stop... lip... teeth... hair...

Ooohhh...

Oh for the love of Merlin someone stop me from making that noise! The git might think I actually like what he's doing and ohholymerlin ooohhh...

Finally, her brain functioned well enough to command her hands to free their hold on his hair and she dropped them to his chest and pushed him away.

He took two steps back, his eyes opening in surprise and holding hers captive in their gaze. He looked flushed and his lips were - actually, no, she wasn't looking at his lips - she wasn't, honest! - because if she did she'd remember how they felt against her mouth and oh my God I really need that Memory Charm. Right now.

Where the hell are Harry and Ron when you need them?

She sucked in a breath through her mouth, and tore her eyes away from him. Hermione focused on something, anything else so she couldn't look at him, but it was difficult, for the room was small and cramped and even if she did look at something else she would still see him. See his face, see his expression filled with embarrassment and horror that she knew were only mirroring hers.

She also knew that if she did see those emotions over his face then that would've been very painful to her indeed. Hermione couldn't understand why it would, though. She just knew it would be.

"So," he said. Then said nothing more.

Hermione snuck a glance at him. Malfoy was doing his best not to look at her as well. A wasted effort, because at that moment their eyes met and her cheeks heated and his face paled.

"So," he repeated.

"So," she echoed weakly.

This was probably the most intelligent conversation she'd had in her entire life. Ever.

"It--that--the spell," Malfoy said low. "That--that was, I mean, your spell--"

"Um y--yes." Of course she knew it was because of the spell she cast on him! What she didn't know - and what she wished she knew beforehand - was that it was going to be the reason why they were going to be intimately acquainted through the mouth for a few seconds.

Okay, several.

All right, many! Many seconds. But still. It wasn't like the kiss went on for a minute.

Or - minutes.

So not the point here!

"It's over, isn't it? The spell, I mean."

Hermione nodded. "It is."

And apparently, this awkward conversation clearly wasn't because they were still standing there, barely a few meters apart, with no knowledge of what to say or how to say what or even how to end everything.

It was humiliation in its own right.

"You did it again, you know."

Too immersed in her own thoughts, she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. "I've absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

He grinned. "Come now, Granger. Don't play coy with me. Haven't you realized that this is the second time you've performed a spell to... ahem, kiss me? Not that I mind. I'm actually flattered that you'd go to great lengths just to--"

"And if you don't shut up," she began, curling her hands to fists, "so help me this will also be the second time that I'd be slapping you, you cocky bastard." Trust him to come up with a seriously twisted explanation for what happened between them! But then, this was Draco Malfoy here. Totally expected of him!

He rubbed his palms together, a Cheshire smile on his face. "Kinky, aren't we? My, do I love that in a girl."

She groaned. "Contrary to your demented belief, I didn't cast my spell on you so that I could kiss you, you arrogant pig. Too many reasons why I shouldn't, aside from the very obvious gross factor." Hermione planted her hands on her hips. "Besides, you're the one who kissed me, remember?"

He shrugged. "I kiss you, you kiss me, what's the difference? Always ends the same way, regardless of how - or who - started it."

She glared at him. "Sod off, Malfoy. I'm leaving."

He pouted. "What, no kiss goodbye?" To prove his point, he stepped closer to her and spread his arms apart.

Hermione involuntarily took a step back. Her palm positively itched to get intimately acquainted with his cheek again. "Stop it! What happened here was a mistake that, for your information, I didn't want - or did I ever intend - to happen."

The positively smug look on Malfoy's face didn't abate a bit. "That wasn't the tune you were singing only moments ago. Not that I blame you or anything. I do know that I'm hell of a good kisser."

She felt like she was going to spontaneously combust any minute. This man was just so... so haughty! But then, Draco Malfoy and haughty? Synonyms! "Sod off, you arrogantconceitedpompous prat! Don't you ever breathe a word about this to anyone do you hear me? I swear to you Malfoy that I'd--"

"I don't know about you Granger but I really don't... how does that saying go? Ah yes. Kiss and tell."

"Un--believable," she retorted, deliberately emphasizing the first syllable. Hermione threw her hands in the air. "You're unbelievable! Are you implying that I do? That I will?"

Malfoy held up a hand. "I know, Granger, believe me I know," he said in a soothing voice. "I understand the fact that women always share their first kiss with their friends, and considering this must be the only experience you've ever had--"

The fact that she knew the Unforgivable Curses warranted a life sentence in Azkaban was the only thing that prevented her from pulling one on him. "Shut up! Sod off! I'm leaving!" Hermione placed her hand on the knob, but she couldn't resist a final jab - after all, he did insult her. "And for your information, that kiss positively sucked. Worst on my list. In--fe--rior." And she left the room, the horrified expression on Malfoy's face something she would cherish for the rest of her life.

It was a miracle she was able to keep herself cool and collected as she walked down the halls leading to the Head Girl room. Then she rerouted, and walked towards the Gryffindor Common Room instead. She wouldn't want to risk another encounter with that... that thing. When she said the password to the Fat Lady she opened to reveal an almost empty space, suiting Hermione's temper just fine. She was still fuming, and only Merlin could help the poor, innocent soul that would receive her rather hideous display of anger!

Three seconds after she deposited herself on the sofa, Hermione wished someone would come and distract her. Being alone in a big, silent room made her nostalgic and she was forced to do nothing else but reflect. Reminisce. Remember.

Guess what she was doing right this very moment. Just guess.

"Ahhh!!!" The scream that emerged from her was fortunately muffled by the pillow that covered her face. This is insane! It's not like something serious happened between us! So that wretched thing kissed me. Big deal!

Yes, it was a big deal. Definitely. Hugest of huge deals.

No, it wasn't!

Yes it was.

No it wasn't!

Yes it was.

No it was--oh, damn it, now I'm arguing with myself. Like that ever went well.

She removed the pillow from her face, giving in to the twisted need of her body to breathe. Hermione contemplated on beating herself unconscious with it, but just as she was debating whether or not she would proceed the door opened and in stepped Harry.

"Hermione!" he said cheerily. He cheerily looked around. "Have you seen Ron?"

Pulling on a straight face she said, "Nope. Didn't. Haven't."

His cheery look disappeared. "I was hoping--oh, never mind. I thought after that thing with Snape he would've stopped by here so we could have lunch together."

"That thing with Snape? What thing with Snape? Does Ron have a 'thing' with Snape?" she asked in rapid succession. Without breathing.

Harry looked at her oddly. "I'll pretend you never said that. I thought Ron told you, but I guess he didn't... anyway, two days ago Snape paired him up with Parkinson for an assignment of some sort."

That further befuddled her already fuddled brain. "Assignment? Why would Ron have an assignment? Aren't we done with having assignments?"

Again with the odd look. "Are you okay? You look... frazzled."

She waved his concern away. "I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm good."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Absolutely! Positively! I'm! All! Right!"

Harry shrugged. "If you say so. Anyway, I think this assignment was for the Graduation Ball. Since Ron and Parkinson both got good grades in Potions, Snape gave them a last-minute project or something. Ron won't elaborate on it when I asked him. He said it's a surprise."

"I hate surprises. Really. Hate them." Especially when it involved lots of kissing and moans. And that thing Malfoy did with his hands and--

Oh, wait. She actually liked those.

Which made her want to hit herself.

That was it. She'd gone completely wacko. Certifiably insane. Undoubtedly loony.

"Um, Hermione?" fleeted Harry's voice. "Why are you beating yourself silly with that pillow?"

Because I want to forget that I'm Hermione Granger and the fact that I do liked to be kissed by one Draco sodding Malfoy.

Not that she could say that aloud or anything, unless she wanted to risk being on the receiving end of Harry's INFAMOUS CAPSLOCK-Y RAGE (that was only rivaled in intensity by Ron's Apoplectic Rage, as far as she knew). Hermione could understand what Harry would feel if he found out that his best friend and his worst enemy sappily shared saliva. After all, it wasn't that hard to imagine if that happened to her, if she was the one who discovered that Ron or Harry had kissed Malfoy.

...

She'll pretend she never had that thought.

THAT IS IT. I'm not going to think about this anymore. I'm going to forget something happened. No more thinking of Malfoy's tongue, hands, lips...

No. More. Of. This. Malfoy. Crap!

"Let's go have lunch, I'm starving." And before her resolve wavered, she pulled Harry into coming with her.

They almost collided with Ron on their way to the Great Hall.

"Hey!" Harry said, his eerie cheeriness returning. "Where've you been? I was looking for you."

Hermione saw Ron try to surreptitiously hide a humongous box in the folds of his robes. "What's that you got there?" she asked, before he could answer Harry's question.

"Err..." His ears turned bright red. "N--Nothing."

Harry was also eyeing the box with interest. "Nothing, huh? Then why are you furtively hiding it from us, like it's something secretive and mysterious and would only make us wonder more why you have it AND why you're trying to hide it in the first place?"

Ron fixed Harry a weird look before he gave up and brought it out. "It's nothing, just... it's just a gift. A gift to...to... to Ginny."

Hermione took the box from him and opened it. Inside was a plain black robe. "I didn't know Ginny has a penchant for Muggle robes," she mused.

Ron took it from her quickly. "Of course she does, I'm her brother, of course I know she has a penchant for Muggle robes! Of course!" he said with too much unnecessary vehemence. He paused, cleared his throat and said, "I'm going to place this inside now. Wait for me."

"Of course," answered Hermione with a wicked grin.

After Ron left, Harry turned to her. "Do you buy his pathetically contrived excuse?"

She shook her head. "Not a chance. Ronald Weasley is hiding something from us. The question is: what is it?"

"Or who."

"Good theory." Hermione looked at him. "By the way, Harry, what's with the sudden cheeriness on your part?"

"What's with the sudden suicidal tendency on your part?" he shot back.

"Let's eat!" Ron said, emerging from behind the portrait and fortunately blocking her from answering the question.

As they walked, Hermione winked at Harry, then turned to Ron. "You're looking positively radiant, Ron."

"Beaming," contributed Harry. "Like you know something we don't and are intent on keeping it that way."

Ron looked at them oddly. "I've no idea what you two are saying." And he walked ahead.

"Oh come on Ronald!" said Hermione, catching up. "Spit it out already. Or else..." She looked at Harry.

"Or else I'll unleash my capslock-y rage on you!" he threatened.

Ron stopped and looked at them seriously. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes!" they answered in unison.

He sighed loudly. "All right. I'll tell you."

Harry and Hermione exchanged large smiles.

"IF we have cockroach clusters as our dessert," Ron finished triumphantly.

"Only one way to find out!" said Harry.

They entered the Great Hall. As it was past lunchtime already, only several students were left feasting inside. Hermione waved at Ginny, Parvarti, and Lavender as they exited, then sat on her usual spot. She was filling her plate with mashed potatoes and gravy when someone called her name. She looked up. Then wished she didn't.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" asked Ron. "Or should I say, Dra-co?"

"ZABINI!" shouted Harry, scooting away. "WHY ARE YOU HERE? DIDN'T YOU RECEIVE THE--"

"Pansy, could you please tell Harry that I received the note from McGonagall and am now in the process of not talking to him?" Zabini said sweetly.

"You heard her, Potter," said Parkinson sourly. Then she nodded at Ron. "Weasel."

"Pugkinson." He looked at Malfoy. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ron asked again.

The Slytherin gave him a withering glance. "I've come for Granger."

Her sudden inclusion in the conversation shocked her. "What?" Hermione squawked. She snapped her mouth shut when she saw an evil glint appear on his eyes. Cocky bastard. "I mean--what?"

"Dumbledore wanted to talk to us, Granger," said Malfoy in a bored tone. "He said I should come fetch you."

"Headmaster's lapdog now aren't you Malfoy."

"Don't worry Potter, that position's permanently yours. I wouldn't dream of taking it." Malfoy smirked. "By the way, the Headmaster's shoes need a good licking. I thought you should know."

"You evil, evil fiend," said Harry bitterly.

"Pansy, could you please tell Harry that he's only being redundant?" said Zabini pleasantly.

Parkinson didn't answer, for she was deeply engrossed in a conversation with Ron.

"Pansy?" demanded Zabini. "Pansy!"

"Right! Um--what?"

"Why are you talking to Weasel?"

"Project!" interjected Ron immediately. Hermione noticed a red color spreading from his neck to his face. Interesting. "We--talk--project."

Malfoy unexpectedly grabbed Hermione's hand and forced her up. "Hey! Wha--I haven't eaten yet!"

"Cockroach! Clusters! Hermione!" Harry reminded her desperately.

Malfoy cast Harry a weird look. "You'll have time later. I have to be away from your inanely articulate friends." And with that, he began dragging her away.

"Weasel," Parkinson repeated.

"Pugkinson," Ron said.

"Weasley, could you please tell Harry that despite this minor setback I still like him and am still intent on having his babies?" Then Zabini smiled brilliantly at them and left.

"HA! You heard her, Har--say, why are you beating yourself silly with that plate?"

After stepping out of the Great Hall, Parkinson and Zabini went to the direction of the Slytherin Common Room while Hermione and Malfoy walked towards Dumbledore's office.

Correction: Malfoy dragged her towards Dumbledore's office.

"You can let go now, I'll follow you," she told him, trying to snatch her arm away.

He maintained his vise-like grip on it.

"Hey! I know the way to the office, so let go of me! People are starting to stare!"

Still with the no-reply thing he had going on.

"Malfoy, could you please tell your idiot self that you have to let go of me as my arm is already bruising and I will resort to kicking you in the privates if you don't?"

At that, he let go of her.

He may have said something oddly sounding like 'kinky' but she wasn't so sure.

"Thank you."

He didn't say anything.

His silent treatment was really getting on her nerves. It was just... not normal.

Thankfully, the unbearable silence between them ended for they already arrived at the phoenix guarding the pathway to the office. "Toffee crèmes," said Malfoy. The phoenix moved, revealing a staircase. He went ahead, and Hermione followed.

He didn't want to talk to her? Fine. She'd let him have it his way.

"Ah, Mr. alfoy, Miss Granger. Good afternoon," greeted Dumbledore as he lowered the book he was reading.

Malfoy nodded at him, while Hermione said, "Good afternoon."

The Headmaster gestured at the two empty chairs before him. "Please, have a seat."

They did.

He moved a plate towards them. "Cockroach clusters?"

Hermione shook her head, while Malfoy said, "No, thanks."

"Very well." Dumbledore smiled at them. "I called you both today to personally congratulate you for achieving the highest honor Hogwarts could award its students. I'm sure you both know that it is the first time in our history to have two students achieve the highest mark."

"Snape already told us," Malfoy said brusquely. He shifted in his seat. "Is this all? Are we done here?"

Hermione deftly shot him a glare. Which he ignored.

Dumbledore was still all-smiles. "Not quite, Mr. Malfoy. I still have another question to ask that, I have to be bold, was inspired by a beautiful scenario I witnessed earlier." He fixed Malfoy a very meaningful look. "Professor Sprout informed me that you two are in charge of delivering a speech for the student body. How is it coming along?"

"Mine's already finished," claimed Malfoy haughtily.

It took all of Hermione's restraints to not scream "LIAR!" at him. "I'm only polishing my own," she said.

Malfoy shot her a cocky look. Which she ignored.

If he could lie so calmly in front of the Headmaster, then so could she!

But Dumbledore didn't look pleased. In fact, he looked... disappointed. "You created your speeches individually?"

"Yes," answered Malfoy. "Aren't we supposed to?"

The Headmaster glanced at him. "I'm afraid not."

"What?" asked Hermione, confused. She and Malfoy exchanged looks. Then pretended they didn't.

"Tell me, what exactly did Professor Snape say about this speech?"

"That we're going to deliver it at the same time. But that doesn't necessarily mean we have to give the same speech, does it?"

Dumbledore's glance at her told Hermione it did.

"What?" said Malfoy. "There's no way--"

"I'm going to deliver--"

"A speech that--"

"Isn't all mine!"

Cue the exchanging of glares.

The Headmaster smiled. "Exactly like that," he said. "Exactly. You'll take turns delivering a speech that you both made."

Hermione couldn't believe her ears. Was Dumbledore telling her that she and Malfoy have to work together to create a speech? Bloody heck. As if she wasn't spending enough time with him already! "Forgive my boldness, Professor, but why must we do this? Can't we stick to our own speeches, and deliver them at different times? One before and one after the ceremony?"

The serenity on the Headmaster's face was really starting to irritate Hermione. "That is a very valid suggestion, Miss Granger, but I'm afraid it is one I could not accept. The whole program for your Graduation has already been finalized, and invitations have also been sent out to your parents. We cannot change what already is to be expected." He leaned on his chair. "Also, this would show that, indeed, after the Final War was settled no bad blood exists between any of the houses in Hogwarts any longer, especially between Slytherin and Gryffindor. All the professors agree that this is only a fitting tribute to House Unity."

Hermione pursed her lips and said nothing.

"You really have all these things conveniently worked out, haven't you," Malfoy said, an accusing tone in his voice.

Damn Dumbledore and his twinkling eyes! "I'm afraid so." He stood. "Do not worry much, Mr. Malfoy. I'm sure that you and Miss Granger still have a lot of time left to accomplish this."

Yes, a lot of time that I should be devoting to avoiding him, not working with him! Malfoy was right. It was suspicious how these things just played out. How utterly convenient. "I'm sure we do," she said dryly.

"Now that this is settled, I have to get back to my reading. Good day to both of you." With that, the Headmaster turned away from them and picked up his book, the Eight Thousand Highly Effective Habits of Highly Successful Wizards and Witches.

Hermione stood and left the room, Malfoy trailing behind her.

"Evil," she muttered under her breath. "Insane. Crazy. Old. Bat!"

"Crazy," Malfoy muttered beneath his breath. "Evil. Insane. Old. Bat!"

She paused and looked at him. "Did we just agree on something?"

He looked at her coolly. "No, we didn't." And he walked past her.

Just like that.

Hermione glared holes at his retreating back. Egotistical - smarmy - annoying - "Coward!"

Malfoy paused, turned, and moved towards her. "What did you call me?"

She lifted her chin stubbornly. "You heard me, or else you wouldn't be standing there asking me to repeat what I just said. Which you completely heard."

His lips thinned as he bit out, "I am not a coward."

Hermione snorted. "Fine way of showing it. This also proves how childish and immature you are, preferring silence over talking it out!"

To her surprise, he actually laughed. "Oh, this is rich, coming from someone who just can't stand me not talking to her so she resorts to name-calling to catch my attention!"

Her jaw dropped. "Why--you--little... that was not--I wasn't--name-calling!"

He waved at her. "Any time you come up with a coherent sentence, let me know." And he walked away.

Damn this infuriating son of a--"Malfoy, come back here! I'm not done talking to you!" She couldn't care less if people started to stare at her as she followed him. Hermione was going to settle this score she had with him. Right. This. Moment.

"Oh what is it now, Granger?" he whined like the petulant child he truly was.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside an empty room. "I want you to know that I don't like to be ignored," Hermione began.

He chuckled. "So you are bothered by my not talking to you."

She shook her head. "That's not the point," she said. "If you haven't noticed, we are required to work together for two different tasks - the dance and now this bloody stupid speech. We can't work well if we can't settle whatever this is between us, and that is why I pulled you in here... so wipe that completely insulting smirk on your face, because what's on your mind is NOT what's on mine!"

"And how would you know what I'm thinking if it's NOT what you're thinking as well?"

Hermione lifted her hands. "Can we please stop with the bloody innuendos? Look, all I'm saying is that to make things easier for us we must call a truce. Just for this short while. What do you say?"

Malfoy made a big show of pretending to think. "Is NO good enough for you?"

She sighed. "Malfoy--"

"Don't be stupid, Granger," he said firmly, the humor on his face fading. "You know we can never call a truce."

"The only reason I can see why we can't is because you're such an arrogant pig."

"See? That's exactly what I'm saying. You hate me, I hate you. There's just too much hate between us that there can never be room for anything else."

Hermione frowned. "That's not true. I--"

"You mean you don't hate me?"

She paused. "Hate is too strong a word, Malfoy," she said, playing safe.

"That's not an answer."

"What do you want me to say? That I do?"

He was quiet.

"That I... don't?"

He snorted. "Now that's unbelievable."

It was unbelievable. "Yes it is, isn't it," she admitted. "We've done a lot of things to each other that it's almost impossible to say all of it weren't because of hate."

Malfoy looked at her, his gray eyes turbulent. "I can think of one way you can prove you don't hate me."

Hermione returned his intent gaze. "What is it?"

He seized her hand in an act so swift it was almost surreal. "Go with me to the Graduation Ball."

"...wh-what?"

"Think about it," he said low. "It's only logical that we go together, isn't it, considering we're also partners for the dance. And it's proof that we don't hate each other's guts if we can tolerate each other for several hours without resorting to any violent means."

What the... this was... without a doubt... unexpected... I don't... totally... DID HE JUST ASK ME TO THE GRADUATION BALL? "Are you serious?" she muttered low.

His silence and his very serious demeanor were her answers.

My God, he is asking me to the Ball. She stared at him, stared at his eyes that were deep, conflicted, and solemn. After a few seconds, Hermione took a deep breath, knowing that she was making a huge mistake but plunging headfirst to do it anyway. "All right."

Malfoy's lips widened to a smile that reached his eyes.

She was about to smile back when he leapt away from her and started howling at the walls. "You all heard that, didn't you?"

Hermione froze when she saw the wall on her left slide open to reveal Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and several other male Slytherins all looking at her with smirks on their faces and evil glints on their eyes. "My, my, I see you still haven't lost your touch, Draco," said Nott smugly.

Malfoy did a mock bow. "Well, I did tell you I could make the Head Girl say yes to me if I wanted to, didn't I?"

Her blood actually chilled as she stood there, trying to digest what the hell just happened. "Mal--foy?" she whispered weakly, her strength ebbing as she realized how severely she was duped. How well she was played.

But he didn't hear her. "Now I distinctly remember someone saying that if I won this little bet of ours you'd all be--"

Hermione didn't bother to let him finish his sentence.

Because at that moment she slapped him hard on the face, then ran out of the room as fast as she could.