Divine Humiliation

Divine Humiliation

... and now, for something completely different...

"And slide, slide, slide--wonderful, Mr. Nott! As beautiful a slide as it should be done... good heavens, you have improved marvelously, Mr. Finnigan! And turn, step, turn, dip - yes, Mr. Crabbe, that's it, but bend Ms. Abbott a little lower... good! Now sideways, over, and under - Miss Zabini, that's certainly some grace you exhibit in there. Mr. Potter, what tremendous grip! And Miss Parkinson, Mr. Weasley! I was absolutely correct to have partnered the two of you!" Professor Flitwick clapped as he continued to move around the dancing group, throwing praises and compliments around. "Mr. Thomas, lovely footwork. Miss Padma, beautiful, beautiful steps... as are yours, Miss Parvarti! And finally--"

Having reached the very center of the group, he stopped. And scowled. "Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger? I do believe our dance requires you to be closer to each other than that."

The students in question reluctantly stepped towards each other, each wearing obvious distaste at having to lessen the arm's length space separating them.

"Closer," instructed an annoyed Flitwick.

Another inch.

"Closer!"

Half an inch.

"I'll be deducting thirty points apiece if you're separated by more than three inches. Now move."

Quarter of an inch.

"Thirty points from Slytherin and Gryffindor!" Flitwick wore a deep frown that darkened his features considerably. "And additional three hours of practice from this group!"

The others gave a guttural groan and threw dark glares at the Head students, who still refused to be in the same breathing space as the other. As soon as the teacher had turned his back on them they resumed their very heated staring, anger and loathing evident in their eyes.

"You disgust me, ferret," said Hermione in a tight voice.

"I disgust myself for touching you, Mudblood," said Draco in a low voice.

"You evil, conniving--"

"Ruthless, self-righteous--"

"Five minutes break!" announced Flitwick, all traces of his good humor gone. He rubbed his forehead and heaved a deep, troubled sigh. "When I get back, I expect everything to be in proper order, do you hear me?" He addressed the statement to and glared at Draco and Hermione, before stomping out of the room in a huff.

The said students promptly let go of the other and retreated to opposite corners of the Charms classroom, each muttering curses and obscenities but ensuring that others could hear them well enough to agree.

"Horrible, despicable--"

"Damnable, intolerable--"

"FERRET!"

"MUDBLOOD!"

Harry solemnly watched the commotion and sighed helplessly, then dropped his hands from Blaise's hips. "Nice going Malfoy," he muttered, casting a venomous glare at the Slytherin.

Blaise glanced at Draco and Hermione, then turned her eyes on Harry. "Give the boy a break, dear," she said lightly. "I believe your beloved Hermione also share some of the blame. Dearie."

He seethed at the loud - and totally inappropriate - pet name she had christened him. "Stop calling me that."

She batted her eyelashes prettily. "Stop calling you what, dearie?"

"That. Dearie. It's not... we're not... stop it."

"Oh." Blaise placed a warm hand on his arm. "Okay. Not dearie then. How about... love?"

"No."

"Lover?"

"NO!"

"Sweetheart?"

"No, no, NO." Harry clenched his teeth. "For the last time--"

"Fine." Blaise smiled at him, and he purposely looked away. She was such a vile snake. "I won't call you 'dear' or 'dearie' or 'love' or even 'sweetheart'. But... what do you want me to call you if not any of those?"

"Potter's fine and completely proper, Zabini," he answered smoothly. "I'm perfectly comfortable with us not leaving the 'surname phase', to tell you the truth."

For a moment, the lustrous look on her eyes disappeared, only to be replaced by something fiercer, darker, headier. Determination. "All right," she said slowly. "I'll give in to what you want, Harry."

The way his name rolled out of her tongue evoked a lot of... improper images in him. He promptly shook his head to cleanse it. Why, she ought to be spanked! Wait, no. NO. "Fine. Call me whatever you want. Just not... that."

She wore a beguilingly innocent expression that was really grating on his nerves. "Not what, Harry?"

Still with the syrupy voice, the pretty batting of lashes. Voldemort and all his hordes were easier to deal with, compared to one Blaise Zabini. Damn it! Stop this nonsense, for the love of sanity! I am a hero. I should know how to save myself! "Don't call me by my first name," he gritted out. "We're not friends."

A perfectly normal girl should've been offended by what he said. A perfectly normal girl would've taken the very obvious implication his words brought forth seriously. A perfectly normal girl could've stopped showering him with gifts and attention when he stated his blatant distaste of her from the very beginning.

But then, Blaise wasn't a perfectly normal girl and unfortunately, she knew it. "Of course we're not. That's what makes it fun, don't you think?" She linked her hands with his. "Dearie?"

Unfortunately, he was becoming used to her behaving like that as well. Harry was completely taken aback by her tactic, he couldn't help but smile at her audacity. "You're unbelievable. You never give up, do you?"

Blaise let out a chuckle that was equal parts devilish and feminine. "Love, you of all people should've been aware of the fact that I don't know the meaning of the words 'give up'."

And when Harry took the initiative to move his hands on her waist, Blaise giddily knew it was a start of something... perfectly normal.

At that moment, Flitwick re-entered the room. "Dancing positions!" he shouted, motioning with his tiny hands. He pointed at Draco and Hermione. "From the very beginning!"

On the other side of the room, Pansy smiled at her feet as Ron's ridiculously large hands pulled her closer to him. But when she looked at his face, she was already frowning. "My robes," she stated clearly, "are crumpled by your abnormally oversized hands, Weasley."

"Oh, right." Ron moved his palms so that he could only feel her clothes and not the solidity of her waist. "Is that better?"

"Definitely better than being your partner and having you ruin my robe for me? Quite."

Ron lifted his brow at her quip. "At least one of us is having fun."

"And I don't blame you for it."

"Curl, bend, dip--"

At Flitwick's instructions, Ron guided his hand around her waist and slowly, gently, brought Pansy on a dip. The position unavoidably placed their faces within a very close proximity that it caused her to redden slightly and him to cough shyly.

"Ahem. How's your end of the project? You are doing it, aren't you, because if you're not--"

Pansy could see his excruciating desire to be rid of the awkwardness between them, so she played along. "Of course I am doing my part, Weasel. I understood perfectly what Snape told us yesterday, and how dare you insinuate--"

"Step to the side, over and under--"

Ron moved behind Pansy and together they stepped three times to the right and three times to the left. "Well that's a relief. At least I don't have to explain to Snape that his pug-nosed student is responsible why the color of the potion for the walls is green instead of red!"

She gasped theatrically. "Why, you just astound me to no end. You managed to string all those big words together and not step on my feet at the same time! However do you manage it, I wonder?"

Ron fought the urge to shake her until she lost consciousness. "Shut up, Parkinson."

Pansy fought the urge to step on his toe until it flattened and doubled in size. "You shut up, Weasley."

But they were grinning sheepishly whenever they're not looking at each other.

Caught smack in the middle of the whole commotion stood Draco and Hermione, blissfully unaware of the damage their stubbornness brought to their classmates but consciously aware of how close they were being. Their steps were calculated, cold; their movements rigid, restrained. Only the thought that it would anger Flitwick more kept them from abandoning their practice and walking out of the room, no matter how tempting or right the said thought was. So, for the benefit of Professor Flitwick, they held on to each other and danced. If what they were doing could be called dancing

Truth be told, what they were doing now only managed to aggravate the poor professor even more. "You were supposed to sway with Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy."

"You were supposed to let Mr. Malfoy guide your movements, Miss Granger."

"Mr. Malfoy, your feet should be in synchrony with Miss Granger's."

"Miss Granger, your hand should be placed at Mr. Malfoy's shoulder."

"Mr. Malfoy, do you know the meaning of the words 'moving together'? Yes? Do it."

"Miss Granger, if you have the time do look up the meaning of 'in harmony' and practice it."

"Mr. Malfoy--"

"Miss Granger--"

"Mr.--"

"Miss--"

"ENOUGH!" the professor finally howled, after what seemed like an eternity of watching the two wreck the dance floor.

The room quieted down as they watched Flitwick glower.

Admittedly, the tiny professor was just as terrifying to behold when angry as Snape was when delighted.

"Everyone," breathed Flitwick heavily, "except Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy, step out of the room. NOW."

They did.

Harry and Ron threw glances at Hermione, but she refused to meet their eyes - she was too busy glaring holes through Draco's head.

Blaise and Pansy tried to catch Malfoy's eyes, but he wouldn't look at them - he was too busy imagining Hermione's neck between his hands.

They were the last four to step out of the room, and when Harry closed the door, they all wore worried looks on their faces.

Yes, even Slytherins became worried over their kin every once in a while.

"Do you think something's going to happen to Hermione?" Ron questioned, throwing a nervous glance at the door.

Blaise rolled her eyes and folded her arms. "Ever the oblivious one, aren't you Weasley?"

"Hey!" Pansy snapped. "It's a legitimate question. But..." She glanced at the door. "Do you think something's going to happen to Draco?"

"One can only hope," Harry said. "After all, only stupid people care about Malfoy - offense meant, Parkinson."

"Hey!" Ron snapped.

Harry looked at him oddly. "What?"

"N-nothing."

Blaise placed her ear on the door, and frowned. "They're all talking in hushed tones," she told them. She shook her head. "I can't make anything out."

Harry looked troubled as he stared at the door. "Well--"

"Harry, Ron!" said a perky voice.

Blaise and Pansy immediately glared at the newcomer. Who are you to talk to my man? they thought in unison.

But Ginny was, thankfully, oblivious to all of it.

"What're you doing here?" demanded her brother.

Ginny grinned, her fingers curled around a necklace dangling from her throat. "Just... wandering around." She sent a meaningful look at her brother that traveled from him to Pansy, then back again. "I see we've been busy lately, haven't we, Ronald."

Ron's ears purpled as an ill-concealed embarrassed expression flooded his face. "Ginny--"

Ginny turned her attention on the other pair. She noted how close Blaise was to Harry and said, "Now this is something I never expected from you, Harry."

Harry's eyes blazed from underneath his glasses. "Ginny--"

"Oh, fine, fine. I won't say a word." Ginny finally let go of the necklace, and the people around her got a good look at it.

Pansy frowned as she stared at the tear-shaped ruby pendant suspended from a golden strap around Weaslette's throat. "That looks mighty familiar," she muttered.

Ginny looked at her. "Lovely, isn't it?" she asked flippantly, but didn't bother to wait for an answer. "What are you all doing out here, by the way? Don't you have dance practice?"

"It's ended," answered Ron.

"We're only waiting for Hermione," replied Harry, casting another look at the door. "She's in there."

"With Draco," added Blaise.

Ginny's eyes widened. "They're inside? On their own?" A grin lighted her features, and she clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Oh Merlin, I knew it! I knew those two were--"

Ron and Harry looked revolted at the point Ginny was driving at. "They're with Flitwick," supplemented Harry.

Ginny screwed her face up. "Ew! Gross!"

"They're not doing what you think they're doing," snapped Ron, screwing his face the way Ginny did. "Stop thinking that! That's disgusting!"

"What?" asked Ginny, batting her lashes innocently. "I think it's possible. With Draco and Hermione, I mean. What with Malfoy's admission and that article at the Howling--"

"Shh!" Blaise motioned with her hands, then stepped back. "They're coming!"

They all backed away from the door, and when it opened it spewed forth two extremely volatile students, with an extremely volatile professor flanking their heels.

"I hope," said Flitwick with an empathic glare at Draco and Hermione, "that I'll see better performances from you both tomorrow, or I shall take these matters to Professors Snape and McGonagall!" At that, he slammed the door full force.

The two students simultaneously glared at the door, then at each other.

"Hermione--"

"Hermione?"

"Hermione!"

"Draco!"

"Draco--"

These two looked at those who spoke their names, then glanced at those who didn't. Hermione fixed on a placidly bland expression that had Blaise and Pansy raising their brows at her pretense. Draco, meanwhile, wore a very tight expression that had Harry and Ron on the alert, ready to grab their wands once the blond, disgusting git tried to do something wrong. Like breathe. Or blink.

Ginny was slightly taken aback when Malfoy's eyes traveled to her. His tight expression grew furious, and sparks flew from his eyes.

"You," he said quietly, fiercely, "where did you get that?" He pointed at the necklace.

"Ginny--" Hermione began, but was cut short when Draco glared at her. She looked away.

The sixth year raised her brow in surprise before grabbing the necklace again. "Someone gave it to me," she said easily. "It's mine."

Draco's jaw twitched, but he didn't say anything.

"You got a problem with that, Malfoy?" asked Harry in a heroic tone that almost sent Blaise in a swooning fit.

The Slytherin turned his eyes on him. "As a matter of fact, Potter--"

"Don't," said Hermione in a low tone. "Don't you dare."

Draco stared at her, then at Ginny, then trudged off into the direction of the Slytherin Common Room.

Blaise placed a hand on Harry's arm before going after him. Pansy shrugged at Ron before she, too, followed.

Hermione glared at the departing Slytherins, curled her hands to fists, lifted her chin up, and marched towards her room.

Ron, Harry, and Ginny were left pondering amongst themselves what the hell just happened.

"What the hell just happened?" asked Ron.

Harry shrugged. "Something between Malfoy and Hermione, I'd wager."

"Brilliant deduction, Potter," muttered Ginny under her breath. "Duh!"

"Well what could it be?"

"I really don't have a clue."

"You don't think Malfoy hurt Hermione, do you? Why, I ought to--"

"If he does," murmured Harry darkly, "then we'll make sure--"

Ginny had had enough of the supremely intelligent conversation these two idiots were having. "Men," she intoned helplessly. "Ever the slowest creatures in the world, aren't you all?"

"Shut up." Ron pointed at the necklace. "Where did you get that, by the way?"

"Hermione lent it to me."

"She did?" asked Ron.

"But Ginny, didn't you say--"

"I know what I said," said Ginny in an exasperated voice. "I wanted to prove something so I told Malfoy I owned it. Now, I have proven that something I wanted to prove." She smiled. "All the proof I need is right here." She clutched at the necklace.

"Huh?" asked Ron. "Proof? What proof?"

Harry glared at her. "Can you please speak in a language we at least understand?"

Ginny lifted her chin at them. "Three days ago, Hermione didn't have this necklace. Or even the matching earrings and ring it came with. Yesterday, she lent them to me. Today, Malfoy got enraged seeing this on me. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Harry was quiet. "Not really."

"Ginny," said Ron breathlessly, "go straight to the point or I swear to Merlin I'm going to wring your neck--"

"Malfoy gave this to Hermione," announced Ginny with a flourish.

There was silence.

Then there was chaos.

"What?"

"WHAT?"

"What do you mean--"

"MALFOY GAVE THAT TO HERMIONE?!"

"That's stupid!"

"THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!"

"Of course it's possible!" Ginny argued. "It just happened. Hello? Weren't you listening?"

"Why on earth would Malfoy give something like that to Hermione?"

"MORE IMPORTANTLY, WHY WOULD HERMIONE KEEP IT?"

"Ask her, why don't you," Ginny answered. "And don't you dare show me your infamous Capslock-y Rage, Harry Potter, or even your Apoplectic Rage, Ron Weasley. I know them both well enough to recognize the symptoms."

Ron and Harry took deep breaths to regain their control.

"Are you both ready to be civil to me?"

They nodded.

"Good." Ginny smiled benignly at them. "Who're you taking to the Graduation Ball?"

The abrupt change in topic sent both Ron and Harry's thoughts into chaos once more, rendering them both unintelligible for a couple of seconds. "Huh?"

"What?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's an easy question," she snapped. "Who're you taking to the Ball? And you both can't say Hermione, because she's already going with Malfoy."

Peace.

Then uproar.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S WITH MALFOY?"

"That's stupid!"

"WE'LL SEE ABOUT THAT!"

"Yeah, Harry! Let's!"

And off they stomped.

Ginny blinked. "Was it something I said?"

Alone in her room, Hermione flung herself to bed. She tried to control her breathing, for she was gulping in huge amounts of air like a fish out of water. She needed to calm down. She needed to rationalize.

She needed to kill Draco Malfoy.

There was just no reason not to do it.

Hermione drew her knees to her chest, and realized with a start that she was going to cry.

She felt like crying. All she had to do was remember how Malfoy had looked at her that morning, and all of a sudden there was a heaviness setting in her stomach, plotting upwards until her lungs were full and her heart was thick and her eyes were filled with tears.

But she'd die first before she shed one tiny drop because of Malfoy. Her pride wouldn't let her manifest that weakness.

What she needed was to do something to appease it.

What she needed was revenge.

And revenge she would have.

Inside the Slytherin Common Room, Draco paced restlessly, his feet making permanent marks on the floor as he walked to and fro. His hands were clasped behind him, his lips pressed tightly together, his mind weaving through a thousand thoughts at once.

But they were all centered on one being.

Granger.

That woman was going to be the death of him. He was sure of it.

But not if he got to her first.

She was unacceptably irritating this morning. As if she had the reason to be angry! She, who was the primary reason why Draco had spent most of the night scrubbing floors, dusting shelves, and generally all tasks normally done by house elves! She had the gall to be angry at him, when all the while it was he who deserved to give her a piece of his mind! And that necklace... she had the impudence to give away the jewelry he gave her! Didn't she recognize that he wanted to see it on nobody else but her? That was why he gave her that necklace in the first place, damn it! Unforgivable. Truly, truly unforgivable.

Granger had gone too far this time.

He stopped pacing, earning an approval from Blaise and Pansy. But he wasn't paying attention to what they were saying.

Draco was concocting a brilliant plan in order to end everything once and for all.

He'd be damned to let one slip of a girl - a Mudblood! - outsmart him in a game he started himself.

What he needed was revenge.

And revenge he would have.

He stormed out of the Common Room, earning protests from the two women now flanking his heels.

"He's demented," Pansy commented as she tried to keep up.

"Well, didn't I tell you he's in love with Granger?" said Blaise.

"SHUT UP, Zabini!"

"Oops." Blaise looked sheepish. "I thought he wouldn't hear me."

"Of course he could hear you," Pansy said. "He could hear anything involving Granger."

"SHUT UP, Parkinson!"

"See?" She raised her brows. "Remember yesterday when I wasn't believing anything you said about... you know, love?"

"Yes?"

Pansy grinned at Blaise. "I'm a believer now."

"I'm so pleased that you finally see the light!" Blaise said with a smile. She stared at Draco. "Let's just see what's going to happen with him."

On their way to Hermione's room, Harry and Ron walked very fast.

"I don't believe it. Hermione's going with Malfoy!" said Ron.

"No," said Harry, emphatically shaking his head. "There's no proof yet. We need to ask Hermione ourselves."

Ron turned to him, incredulous. "Didn't you hear what Ginny said?"

"I did," answered Harry. "But I need to hear it from Hermione. She's the only one who could explain it all."

They were silent for a while.

"Say, Ron. Who are you taking to the Ball?"

At this, Ron cleared his throat and mumbled a name.

At first, Harry couldn't believe his ears. "Parkinson? You're thinking of taking Parkinson to the Ball?"

Ron glanced at his friend. He knew Harry was very surprised to hear it, but did he have to look so disgusted at the notion? With a heavy heart, he shook his head. "Er, no," he lied. "I said I didn't have anyone in mind yet."

The expression on Harry's face eased. "Oh."

"What about you, Harry?"

He mumbled a name.

That stopped Ron in his tracks. "You're taking Zabini? Are you mad? She didn't place a spell on you, did she?"

Harry was instantly defensive at the mocking tone of Ron's voice. "Of course she didn't," he said. He thought for a second, and blurted out, "I haven't thought of anyone either."

"Oh," said Ron. They both started walking again. "But that's okay, isn't it? I mean, you and I dateless and all? That's way better than having a Slytherin for a date, right?" Ron felt sick to his stomach just forcing the words out.

"Right," answered Harry in a low tone. He looked away.

"Right," repeated Ron. "Now let's convince Hermione to change her mind about going with Malfoy."

That thought kept them going faster than before.

But never in their wildest dreams were they prepared to see something like this.

In her room, Hermione had straightened herself and was now heading towards the door.

She needed to find Malfoy and talk to him.

That was the only way for her plan to work.

Hermione's hand shook a bit as she reached for the handle. She took a deep breath, counted to ten, then swung it open.

The doorway revealed a smiling Draco Malfoy, with one hand resting on the wall while the other curling on his waist.

She blinked. Then blinked again.

"Hello, Hermione," he practically purred, his eyes glinting as he looked at her.

He was up to something, she could tell right away.

But she wouldn't let herself be swayed, or show anything to indicate she was onto him.

"Draco!" she said with a smile. Hermione pushed her way out of the room. "Just the person I wanted to see."

Draco fought hard to control himself from raising his brow at the sickeningly sweet tone she had opted for. And that smile on her face? Totally fake. As far as he could tell, her lips might be parted in a smile but her eyes were still stabbing him in their gaze.

She was acting, no doubt about it.

This should be fun to play along with.

"Really?" he said smoothly. "And why would that be, I wonder?"

Hermione looked down at her feet. She was disgusted at herself for having to sound so coy and flirtatious, but she had to. She must! "Remember when you asked me to go with you to the Ball?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I was thinking..." At this, she raised her eyes to par with his. "Maybe we should go together."

Draco didn't have to force the grin that came to him. Oh, she was making this way too easy for him. "I'm delighted to hear that. Tell me, what prompted your change of heart?"

"Nothing, really. It's just that... well, I've thought about it, and I deemed it practical to go with you."

He stepped towards her, and she stepped back. They kept doing this until he had her cornered at a wall. "Are you sure it has nothing to do with..." Draco leaned in closer to her, saw her eyes widen, then brushed his lips across hers very briefly, suggestively. "...this?"

A shiver ran across her skin at the intimacy of his touch, but it was ruined when Hermione thought of just how he was using his kiss as a weapon to weaken her. Not gonna work, Malfoy, she thought viciously. But her hands were on his arms now, and she pressed her body closer to his. "It might," she breathed.

"Then it's settled." Draco wrapped his arms around her waist, then kissed her thoroughly, seductively. She responded in kind. He slanted. She followed. He sucked. She mimicked. He bit. She did better.

And then it was over. They both breathed heavily after the encounter. He noted that her cheeks were flushed. She noted that his eyes were glazed.

Draco ran a finger down her cheek, then saluted at her. "I'll see you tomorrow, luv."

Hermione smiled. "You too."

He turned on his heels and walked towards his room, humming as he did. It's begun.

She pushed the door of her room open and stepped inside. It's begun.

Outside, the four people who had unfortunately witnessed the duel of talks and tongues were still reeling in shock.

"Now that," said Blaise, as she trained her eyes on Harry, "is how a kiss should be done."

"Merlin," Ron muttered. "Did you--have you--wha--abba--dabba--"

Harry nodded, then closed his eyes as if to will the images away. "I think I'm going to be sick," he muttered.

"Me too," said Pansy. She placed a hand on her mouth. "Draco never kissed me that way before!"

Ron gave her a very heated glare.

"I... what I mean to say is, he didn't... really... you know... kiss me... at all..."

Blaise suddenly clapped. "This is so exciting," she said. "I can't wait to see what happens next!"

Harry and Ron started mumbling incoherently, glared at Blaise, and then walked away.

"What?" Blaise called out. "Am I the only one excited about this?"

Apparently not.

Parvarti Patil and Lavender Brown just happened to be walking by when they saw Draco giving Hermione a thorough inspection with his mouth.

"Merlin," they said in unison, eyes widening at what they were seeing. They looked at each other, nodded, then scrambled away with a very juicy topic for that day's Conversations at the Girls' Bathroom.

When dawn came the next morning, Draco and Hermione were the hottest couple Hogwarts had ever had.

Author's Notes: *dodges flying tomatoes* I'm sorry for the late posting... the MUSE wasn't working with me for the last couple of weeks. Oh, boy! Things are definitely heating up! Thank you very much for the reviews, you guys! I love you all! *glomps everybody reading*

Hehe. I told you it was different. But I'll be back to the standard format next chapter... unless the MUSE tackles me with yet another method... ;) Hope you liked this one!