Chapter 12- And A New Term Begins


Draco’s bad mood was entirely forgotten the next day, therefore the bickering between the two Heads continued throughout the day. Hell, it continued for the rest of the holiday, right into the New Year. Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin chose to visit other portraits whenever the two started their pointless fights. They only stayed when they were in the mood to be amused and entertained by the two ‘hotheads’ (a nickname given to Draco and Hermione by Peeves. Go figure).


Over the holidays, a number of people had raised questions about the Love-Knot to both Draco and Hermione. The two chose to stick to the story that Hermione had told Parvati: that it was someone’s idea of a joke. The majority bought it, but there were those who had tried to twist the story around or add on to it (“I heard Professor McGonagall sent it to the two Heads. A last attempt to try to make them get along,” Draco had heard a third-year Gryffindor girl tell her friend. He nearly cursed her into oblivion if it was not for Hermione).


Few Slytherins had stayed back for Christmas. All of Draco’s seventh year friends had gone back home to their families. But those who had remained behind, especially the girls, were not taking the story too well. They were highly upset that Draco Malfoy, the alleged Prince Of Slytherin, was tied to a lowly Mudblood.


On the other hand, the students from the other houses took pity on Hermione instead.


On a Thursday afternoon during the Christmas holidays, a fourth-year Hufflepuff girl whom Hermione did not even recognize, came up to Hermione and said to her quietly, “My condolences to you.” Then she sashayed away, leaving Hermione to wonder that she didn’t quite realize just how many weirdos, aside from Luna, this school had.


The two Heads still slept on the sofa in the common room every night, mainly because of their pig-headedness. They refused to sleep in each other's rooms and refused to let the other sleep on the bed. Breakfast, lunch and dinner were brought to them at fixed times in the same classroom by Harry, Ron and sometimes Ginny.


Meanwhile, Hermione continued her research on the Love-Knot. She had gone to the library a number of times over the vacation period (despite Draco’s objections), but her research was still unproductive. The library did not seem to contain much information about the Love-Knot, as unlikely as that may seem. Nonetheless, Hermione continued pouring through large volumes to find what she was looking for.


Both Draco and Hermione had somewhat resigned to their fate of being stuck to each other, but that did not mean they particularly liked this fate.


However, if they thought that life was bad for them during the holidays, it was just about to get worse with the re-opening of school.


On the first school day of the New Year, Draco and Hermione woke up extra early in the morning. They took their respective showers, dressed in their robes (not in front of each other, of course) and left for the classroom where they had scheduled to meet Harry and Ron for breakfast an hour and a half before their first class started.


“Where’s Pottyface and Weasel Boy?” Draco asked once they reached the second classroom on the third floor.


“Will you quit giving my friends insulting and not to mention stupid nicknames?” Hermione snapped. “You should appreciate what they’re doing for us.”


“They’re doing this for you, not us,” Draco corrected. “Where are they anyways?”


“They should be here soon,” Hermione assured. “Probably still having breakfast themselves.”


“They better not be late because I have every intention of arriving for my first class on time,” Draco told her. “Oh wait, I mean our first class,” he added with a smirk.


Hermione scowled at his statement. “There’s no need to be all smug about it. You’ll be attending my classes tomorrow.”


The day before, Hermione had decided to go for all of Draco’s lessons on Monday, after a whole lot, and I mean A WHOLE LOT of arguing with him. Draco would then have to attend all of Hermione’s lessons the following day, and they would keep alternating as long as they needed to. Classes that were already attended by the both of them would be skipped.


Draco sat himself down on a chair in the classroom and Hermione sat opposite him. They made eye contact by accident, but looked away almost immediately. This was followed by an awkward silence, which Hermione covered up by pulling out a book from her school bag. She flipped it open and started reading.


Draco drummed his fingers on the wooden desk, his impatience rising as he waited. He casually glanced over at Hermione and found himself unconsciously examining her.


Her chocolate brown eyes darted across the page of her book and she frowned ever so slightly in concentration. Her brown hair was in an organized mess on her shoulders and there was a stray strand that kept getting into her eye. She flicked it away a couple of times, but it refused to stay tucked behind her ear.


Draco’s lip twitched into an unknowing smile when her frowned deepened, as she grew more irritated with the unruly brown lock.


Finally, she grabbed a hair tie from her bag and twisted her hair into a bun behind her head, making sure that the stray strand of hair was tightly tucked in the bun. That was when she caught Draco staring at her. “What?” she asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.


It was Hermione’s voice that snapped Draco out of his thoughts and the smile faded. “Nothing,” he said, quickly looking away


The second awkward silence of the day ensued.


“We’ve got detention today,” Hermione said, breaking the silence that was between them.


“I remember.”


“Thought I’d just remind you.”


“I didn’t need reminding,” Draco said icily.


Hermione remained quiet and chose not to answer back. Why she even tried initiating a conversation in the first place was beyond her, but she knew it was probably something to do with that unexpected, two-second smile that she had spotted on Draco’s face.


After thirty minutes of waiting, Draco looked down at his watch and saw that there was only an hour remaining before Charms lesson. “Granger, you're beloved friends aren’t here yet and I don’t think that they’re not going to show up,” Draco said, an edginess in his voice.


Hermione bit her bottom lip and stowed her book into her bag. She had a sinking feeling that he was right. Harry and Ron had been late before, but never this late. “Maybe we should give it another fifteen minutes and see if they show up,” she suggested.


Draco merely snorted in response and begun drumming his fingers on the wooden desk again.


The fifteen minutes passed relatively quickly. “They’re still not here,” Draco informed Hermione, who had spent her fifteen minutes anxiously looking at the door. “And I'm starving. What do you propose we do now?”


Hermione was getting hungry as well. Her stomach had been emitting low rumbles over the past several minutes. “I…I guess we’ll have to go to the Great Hall for breakfast then,” she said slowly.


“You're joking,” Draco said, arching a blonde eyebrow. But the blank look on Hermione’s face suggested that she was in no mood for jokes.


“So you want us to grab food from the Great Hall and come back here again, right?” Draco asked tentatively, dreading the answer.


“We won’t have time for that,” Hermione responded, mentally calculating. “It’ll take us about ten minutes to go there and ten minutes back here if we bring food back from the Great Hall, which only leaves us fifteen minutes to eat. Not to mention that we’ll have to make our way to the Charms classroom before lesson starts, leaving us with less than fifteen minutes then.”


“This is all Potter and Weasley’s fault,” Draco spat angrily. “Where are we going to sit when we get to the Hall?”


“The Gryffindor table,” Hermione said automatically.


“Why not the Slytherin table?!” Draco asked.


“Because I'm going to spend my whole day with the Slytherins and I don’t want to ruin my breakfast with them too,” Hermione said, folding her arms.


“I don’t want to ruin my breakfast by sitting with the Gryffindorks,” Draco sneered in response. “I won’t have any appetite to eat then.”


“All right then, why don’t we just sit here and argue until class starts?” Hermione said dryly. “Then we can just starve as well.”


Draco threw Hermione a dirty look. “Fine, we’ll have it your way for now then. But I want to sit at my house table during lunch, and you’ll have no other choice but to sit with me.”


“Lunch?” Hermione repeated, frowning. “Harry and Ron will bring lunch for us here, like we agreed.”


“Not a chance,” Draco said, bringing his fist down on the table. “I don’t trust Scarhead and Weasel-breath anymore. I never did in the first place. And I was getting sick of them sitting with me for each mealtime. I, Draco Malfoy, had to sit and dine with my archenemy, Harry Potter, every meal of the day, for the whole holiday period! I'm not going to put up with that any longer.


“We’ll alternate sitting at each others’ house table for every meal. Even though I have to put up sitting with the pathetic Gryffindors occasionally, at least I don’t have to see Potter and Weasley during every single meal. In any case, that way I can be with my own people once in a while. Agreed?”


Hermione took a while to contemplate what Draco had said. “I’ll only agree if you quit calling Harry and Ron peculiar nicknames. And stop insulting Gryffindor. We’re a far better house than Slytherin will ever be.”


“Whatever, Granger,” Draco grunted.


Hermione took that as a yes. “Let’s get going then. We don’t have much time.”

---

Draco remembered the response he and Hermione received the first time they entered the Great Hall during the holidays, with the Love-Knot tied around their wrist. But if they thought that was terrible, today’s reaction was even worse. Dreadful, in fact, especially since the Great Hall was more packed with students who had returned from their holiday. Draco had not realized just how many students had gone home for the holidays until today.


The last time Draco and Hermione walked in together, students ogled like they were stark naked, but today, it was like they were stark naked wearing over-sized sombreros and dancing the salsa.


“Draco! What did the Mudblood do to you?!” Pansy shrieked dramatically as Draco walked in with Hermione.


There was an audible gasp from the students as well as the teachers.


“Miss Parkinson!” Professor McGonagall huffed from the teacher’s table. “I will not tolerate such language in this school! Thirty points from Slytherin and you’ll serve detention with me Thursday evening at five.”


Pansy whimpered slightly before returning back to her food.


“We thought they were just rumors, Draco,” Crabbe said as his revered leader walked by the Slytherin table.


“We din think they’re true,” Goyle said. “How did it happen?”


“Who sent it to you?” Blaise asked.


“I’ll explain later,” Draco replied quietly. “During Charms.”


The whispers among the students of Hogwarts almost rose to a deafening proportion as Draco and Hermione walked on. Murmurs, pointing, nudging and staring, none of which were discreet.


Luna Lovegood jogged up to Draco and Hermione, as wide-eyed as ever. Probing the Love-Knot with the tip of her wand, she gawked at them in what appeared to be amazement and jogged back to her seat at the Ravenclaw table.


“I think that will be enough,” Professor Dumbledore’s loud and firm voice echoed through the Hall. “I know most of you are excited and curious, but Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger do deserve to sit down and have a decent breakfast.”


It was a wonder that Hermione and Draco made it to the Gryffindor table. They took a seat opposite Ginny and Draco felt the eyes of the whole Gryffindor set on him.


“What are you staring at?” he snarled and immediately, they went back to minding their own business. I cannot believe I'm sitting here, he thought, cursing his luck. This Love-Knot has made me sink to rock bottom.


“Ginny, where’s Harry and Ron?” Hermione asked as she helped herself to a glass of juice.


“I thought they went to meet you early in the morning,” Ginny replied, frowning. “Didn’t they bring you breakfast?”


“If they did, we wouldn't be sitting here, would we?” Draco retorted.


Ginny ignored Draco and continued looking at Hermione. “I can’t believe they didn’t turn up. Overslept, I suppose.” She sighed. “I'm sorry, Hermione. If I knew they’d do something like that, I would have brought food to you myself. At least you wouldn't have to face everyone in here like that.”


Hermione gave her redheaded friend a smile. “It isn’t your fault, Ginny. And anyways, maybe it was about time Malfoy and I stop hiding from everyone. Who knows how long we would be tied to each other. We couldn't keep hiding.”


Just then, Harry and Ron burst into the Great Hall and sprinted over to the Gryffindor house table.


“OK Harry, start piling that food,” Ron instructed, oblivious to the fact that Hermione was already sitting there with Malfoy. “Hermione’s going to kill us if we don’t hurry.”


“Yeah, and imagine the look on Malfoy’s face,” Harry said, trying to catch his breath as he flung large amounts of food onto an empty plate.


“You won’t have to imagine, Potter,” Draco said coolly, glaring at Harry and Ron.


“And I'm most certainly going to kill you,” Hermione said, her voice sounding as cool as Draco’s and her eyes narrowed.


Ron gulped hard and dropped a piece of bread he was holding. “We’re finished.”

---

Hermione had never felt so ill at ease before as she did now, not even when the entire school was staring at her in the Great Hall. As Draco took a seat next to his fellow Slytherins in Charms, every pair of eyes was on her. All of them threw her looks of contempt, as though it was her fault that Draco was in tied to her.


Little did they know it was quite the reverse.


It was thanks to Lucius Malfoy that they were stuck to each other. Imagine the looks on their faces if they ever found out the truth, Hermione thought as she tried to act normal under the Slytherins’ accusing glares. At least the Hufflepuffs, who were sitting on the other side of the class, seemed to be taking pity on Hermione’s situation.


“We come back from Christmas holidays and we find you tied to her. Tell us Draco, how did this happen?” Blaise asked taking his eyes off Hermione to focus on his friend.


At once, Draco lunged into his story. Hermione pretended to be interested in her Charms textbook, but was in fact listening intently. She was relieved that Draco had told them that the Love-Knot was someone’s idea of a joke. She figured that he was too embarrassed to declare that he thought his own father did it. That would make Draco the laughing stock of the Slytherins.


“I'm telling you, Draco, it must be her doing,” Pansy said, placing her arm protectively around Draco’s and staring disdainfully at Hermione.


Hermione slammed her textbook shut and turned to Pansy. “Why would I do something like that? Do you think I like being stuck with your darling Malfoy like that?”


Pansy gave an indignant sniff. “Maybe you secretly fancy Draco.”


“I agree with Pansy,” Draco said before Hermione could reply, leaning back in his chair and hiking his feet onto the table. “It’s quite possible that you sent it. You might secretly fancy me and want me all to yourself, all the time.”


“Rubbish,” Hermione said, trying to ignore the smirk on Draco’s face. “That’s the most absurd explanation I've ever heard.”


“Actually, it does make sense,” Blaise quipped. “Perhaps you purposely sent the Love-Knot addressed to yourself and Draco just to make it look like someone else sent it to the two of you. Then once you're stuck to him, you’ll have him with you all the time. Imagine the possibilities,” he added with a bold wink. “Better have your fun with her while you can, Draco.”


Hermione’s cheeks burned wild roses as the Slytherins roared with laughter. She presumed that it was their fantasy to torture and humiliate a Gryffindor like that. It was a good thing she was saved from any more embarrassment with the arrival of Professor Flitwick.


“Good morning, everybody,” the short teacher greeted as he climbed on top the pile of books he normally stood on. “Wands out everyone. Let’s do some revision first to see if you remember what we did before the holidays.”


“Ah, Miss Granger,” he said when he spotted Hermione next to Draco. “Professor Dumbledore did inform me about your circumstance. I suppose I won’t be seeing in the first class I have with Gryffindor and Ravenclaw then?”


Hermione shook her head. “No, sir.”


Professor Flitwick gave her a kind smile. “All right then, let’s begin.”

---

In the middle of the Charms class, Pansy, who was sitting on the other side of Draco, nudged him gently in the ribs and passed him a note. “It’s from Vincent,” she whispered.

Draco opened the note and skimmed through it.

Draco, didn’t you scedul the first after holidays Quidditch meeting this Thursday? How are you going to fly with the Mudblood stuck to you? Do we need to find a new Seeker and Captan? �“Crabbe

Draco crushed Crabbe’s note and chucked it away angrily. He, Draco, had spent most of his holidays trying not to think about the Quidditch meeting set on Thursday. And now, thanks to that idiot who did not even know how to spell ‘schedule’ and ‘captain’, he was reminded about Quidditch again.

---

Chapter 13- Of Popped Buttons and Wrong Accusations


Draco sat with the Slytherins the next morning for breakfast, twirling his wand idly in his hand, Hermione obviously next to him. Detention the previous night was not as bad as expected. Professor McGonagall made them write lines for the whole three hours (‘I will not shout in the hallways. I will be a responsible Head and set a good example for my fellow students.’). She gave them a short lecture before dismissing them (“Learn to cooperate, you two!”).


As usual, the Slyhterins were looking at Hermione as if she was some sort of germ or filthy bacteria that was polluting their sterile, pureblood environment. Pansy kept making snide comments about the Gryffindor in Draco’s ear, but instead of laughing at them like he typically did, Draco simply let out a half-hearted chuckle. He had other things on his mind today; he was more interested in the arrival of morning post.


More than a week ago, Draco had written a long, angry letter to his father regarding the Love-Knot (the night he was sitting with Hermione and scribbling away furiously. Refer to Chapter 11). Yet, he had not received a reply from him. Draco was just wondering what was taking his father so long to respond when a flurry of hundred owls flew into the Great Hall, dropping letters to the relevant recipients.


He stopped twirling his wand and sighed thankfully when his eagle owl released a parcel along with a letter onto his lap. He set the parcel aside together with his wand and ripped the letter open, immensely disappointed when he saw the short reply from his father. But his disappointment quickly evaporated when he read what Lucius Malfoy wrote:


Draco,

Meet me at the common room fireplace tomorrow, at midnight. And your mom sent you some sweets.

From,
Your Father


Draco folded the letter back into the envelope and stuffed it into his pocket. He could hardly wait to see his father tonight. Lucius Malfoy had a lot of answering to do.

---

After breakfast, Hermione stood up with the Syltherins to follow them to Potions. She was glad that she could attend all her lessons with Gryffindor today, even though she had to sit with Draco all the time. The day before, she barely managed to talk to Harry and Ron during dinner because Draco kept chipping in his own nasty comments into their conversation.


Instead of going down to the dungeons for Potions, however, Draco led Hermione away in the opposite direction, heading towards the Boys’ Bathroom.


“What are you doing, Malfoy?” she asked, trying to hide her revulsion as she entered it with Draco.


“I was just thinking of taking a stroll in the bathroom, Granger. Lovely place, you know,” his said, his reply oozing with sarcasm. “Would you like to join me?”


Hermione cut him a look before he went into a cubicle to relieve himself. She waited outside the cubicle for a while, then checked her watch and saw that there were only a couple of minutes before Potions started. She banged on Draco’s cubicle door. “Hurry it up, Malfoy! I don’t want to be late for Potions!” she called.


No reply.


“Malfoy? Did you get stuck in the toilet bowl or something?”


Still in the cubicle, Draco groaned at his luck. The button on his pants had popped out because he had undone it too violently. He knew a spell for mending things like that, but problem was, he could not, for the life of him, remember it. And Hermione’s shouts and banging were not helping his memory in the least bit.


“Malfoy! What’s going on in there? What exactly are you doing?!”


Frustrated, Draco swung the door open, startling Hermione. “For Merlin’s sake lady, can’t I be alone for a moment?” he asked.


“No, you can’t because, in case you forgot, we’re stuck together with something called a Love-Knot,” Hermione replied matter-of-factly. “And we’re going to be late for class if you don’t hurry.” She looked down at her watch. “In fact, we’re already late!” She was about to rush out of the lavatory when Draco stopped her.


“Wait, I need the spell to mend my button first,” he told her.


“What button?” Hermione asked, eyeing him curiously.


“You ask too many bloody questions, you know that,” he grumbled. He lifted his robes, pointed at his pants at the area where the button was missing and showed her the popped button in his palm.


“Of all the times for your button to fall out,” Hermione sighed. “Why now?!”


Draco glared at her. “I didn’t ask it to fall out now!”


“Can we not argue now?” Hermione said.


“I didn’t start the argument!”


Hermione took a deep breath and told herself to calm down. “It’s not that big a deal,” she said to Draco. “You can’t even see that the button’s out because your school shirt and robes will be covering that area.”


“Granger, I thought you were the smart one of the Dream Team,” Draco growled. “Don’t you realize that if I don’t have a button in place to secure my pants’ zipper, then the zip may just come down on its own, causing my pants to fall in turn? I don’t want my pants to fall while I'm walking around! It’d be humiliating!”


Hermione folded her arms, raised her eyebrows and stared at Draco like he had sprouted an apple tree on his head. “Rubbish! That doesn’t even make any sense, Malfoy! I'm sure the zip will hold up even without the button in place. Honestly, the things you come up with…”


“Look, I'm just not comfortable with walking out of here with the button of my pants off!” Draco cried out edgily.


“Excellent time you chose to have insecurity issues about your pants!” Hermione yelled back. She checked her watch again. “And we’re five minutes late for Potions!”


Being unable to take it any longer, Hermione headed out of the bathroom and hoped that she could force Draco along with her.


Unfortunately for her, Draco was much stronger than her. He pulled her back and pinned her against the bathroom wall.


“Come on,” Draco half-whispered, “you didn’t honestly think you had enough strength to drag me along with you, did you?”


Hermione could feel his hot breath on her cheek and she stared back into his grey eyes defiantly. His grip on her wrists tightened.


“Will you just give me the bloody spell to mend the button? The sooner you do so, the faster we leave,” Draco said through gritted teeth. “I'm sure you don’t want to be any later for Potions, do you?”


And that did it. Hermione promptly told him the incantation for the spell, not wanting to waste anymore time.


“Wasn’t all that difficult, was it?” Draco said, releasing his vice-grip on her. He reached his robes for his wand, but found that it was not there. He checked all his pockets, but his wand seemed to have vanished. His eyes widened. He started searching through his schoolbag, spilling all of its contents onto the tiled floor of the bathroom. To his dismay, the wand was not there either.


“Why did you do that for?” Hermione asked, staring at the pile of books on the ground.


“I can’t find my wand!” Draco said, looking through his pockets again.


Hermione smacked her own forehead and cried out in frustration. Professor Snape was going to take pleasure in slaughtering them. They had to get to class, fast. Problem was, Draco was not about to leave until his button was fixed and his wand was now missing. Darn it.


Quickly making up her mind, Hermione dropped her bag down. She knelt down in front of Draco’s pants, the region where his button was missing and took her wand out.


“What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!” Draco exclaimed in surprise.


“I'm going to fix your button for you with my wand, seeing that you are wandless at the moment,” Hermione explained.


“Why can’t you fix it in a standing position?” Draco asked. “This is quite an awkward position to be in if you didn’t notice.”


Hermione cocked an eyebrow and she could have sworn she saw Draco’s cheeks tinted with a faint pink. “I need to aim properly otherwise I’ll end up stitching something else, other than your button.” She smiled inwardly when she saw the look of horror on his face.


“Yes, I guess it is better that you get a good aim then,” he said, his voice a bit shrill.


Hermione snatched the little gray button from Draco’s hand and placed it on its original position. Pointing her wand at it, she muttered a spell and the button stitched itself in place.


Stashing her wand away into her robes, she plucked at the button to see if it was firmly in place.


It was then that unsuspecting Michael Corner came into the bathroom. Neither of the two Heads had heard the Ravenclaw enter. His jaw practically hit the floor and he froze on the spot upon seeing Draco and Hermione in that position.


Hermione was knelt down in front of Draco’s…well, you get the idea, and her back faced Michael, while Draco stared down at her. The scene in front of him played in a very different and incorrect way in his mind (imagine you saw a girl kneel down in front of a guy’s crotch area in a bathroom…what would you think? Well, I wouldn't think much of it, but Michael here has quite wayward imagination).


“There, all done,” Hermione said. “Quick and easy.”


“Will you get up then?” Draco said, glancing down at his pants to see the button. He tugged at it and was glad that it was sewn back properly. “Firm and in place. Not bad, Granger. Don’t expect a thank you because it wasn’t that big a deal.”


“I wasn’t expecting one from you anyway,” Hermione said, standing up. “This is the last time I'm doing anything for you.”


Michael gasped loudly, inferring all of Draco and Hermione’s actions and sentences wrongly.


The two students jumped slightly upon hearing the gasp. They did not realize that they had company. Draco looked up whilst Hermione turned to face Michael.


“Hello Michael. I didn’t hear you come,” she said with a smile, remembering him from the time he briefly dated Ginny. Her smile soon turned into a frown though, when she saw the expression on Michael’s face. “Are you quite all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”


“I…I'm fine. Didn’t see a…anything at all,” Michael stammered, gripping the restroom door for support. “I didn’t see you blowing�”doing anything.” His face turned beet red at his mistake. “I swear! Nothing at all. I’ll…I’ll just get going then!” With that, he dashed out of the bathroom without a second look at them.


Hermione stared after him, a puzzled look crossing her face. “What was he talking about? I couldn't understand much of it.”


For an instant, Draco looked as confounded as Hermione felt, but then he abruptly burst into laughter. “Oh Merlin! He thought that we were…that you were…” His voice was replaced by his thunderous laughter.


Hermione had never seen Draco laugh so hard before. He seemed to be having the time of his life. “I don’t see what so funny.”


“Granger, you’re unbelievably thick sometimes,” Draco said in between laughs. “Your friend saw us in what he thought was a compromising position, so it clicked in his head that�””


“Holy cricket!” Hermione gasped, comprehension finally dawning upon her. She brought her hands up to cover her face, letting out a small yelp of despair. This only made Draco hoot with more laughter. Why did things like that happen to her?


“We’ve got to find him and set things straight,” Hermione decided, sounding determined. She let her hands drop to her sides and looked at Draco for agreement.


Draco took a moment to allow himself to quieten down. “He’s probably in class by now,” he said. “And we should really get going to class as well.”


“But Malfoy, what if Michael tells someone? Then what?” Hermione asked, a shiver running down her spine thinking of the consequences. “Can you imagine what the school will think of us? Of me?!”


“He won’t,” Draco said. “He looked too stunned to even use a bathroom ever again.”


Hermione was not convinced. She bit her bottom lip in uncertainty.


“If it bothers you so much we’ll find him later during lunch and use a memory charm on him,” Draco drawled, getting impatient.


“But that’s against the school rules!”


“Look Granger, he won’t tell anyone,” Draco said with assurance that startled Hermione.


“If you're so sure then…”


“We’re fifteen minutes late for Potions,” Draco reminded her. “Do you want to delay anymore?”


Hermione realized that Draco was right. She should focus on getting to Potions now and worry about Michael later. “I guess we better get going then.”


Picking up Draco’s books from the bathroom floor, they rushed all the way to the dungeons and after what seemed like forever, they reached the Potions lessons.


“Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, I see that you finally decided to join us,” Professor Snape said frostily. “Would you care to explain your late arrival to my class? I would most certainly like to hear it.”


“Sir, you won’t believe the amount of time Granger takes in the bathroom,” Draco said before Hermione had a chance to reply. “She dragged me into the bathroom and took ages in there, doing her hair and what not.”


Hermione’s mouth dropped opened and she stared at Draco. “What?!”


“I kept telling her we were going to be late, but alas my advice fell on deaf ears,” he continued dramatically.


“Is that so?” Professor Snape said slowly. “For your lack of discipline, Miss Granger, that will be ten points from Gryffindor. And ten points will be awarded to Slytherin for Mr. Malfoy’s efforts of trying to get you into class on time.” The corners of his thin mouth twitched into a self-satisfied smile when he saw Hermione’s eyes flash with anger.


“But Professor!”


“Do you want me to make that fifteen?” Professor Snape interrupted Hermione’s attempt at an explanation. “Now, go take a seat.”


Hermione glowered at Draco as he took a seat at the back of the class with a smug grin on his face. She could not believe he did that to her. She should have tried dragged him out of the bathroom with a spell, regardless of whether his stupid button had popped out or not.


Hermione grimly copied down the notes that were written on the blackboard. As she did so, she caught Harry and Ron’s eye and they offered her a sympathetic smile. She gave them a tiny smile in return and went back to copying her notes. She would explain Draco’s blatant lie later, during break.


After Potions, Draco told Hermione that he wanted to go to Filch’s office to see if the old caretaker had found his wand. Hermione did not reply, determined not to speak to Draco for the rest of the day.


Pansy came up to Draco and promptly slung her arm into his just as they were about to leave for Filch’s office. “Where are you going now, Draco?” she asked in what she apparently thought was a sweet voice.


“Filch’s office,” Draco answered. “To check whether my wand is there. I misplaced it.”


Pansy let out a girly giggle that made Hermione’s skin crawl. “Draco, you're so absent-minded sometimes,” she said. “You left your wand and the parcel you received this morning on the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.” She paused to search through her bag and from inside she retrieved Draco’s wand and the package. “Lucky for you, I picked it up for you. I wanted to give it to you before we started Potions, but I didn’t see you with the rest of us, so I thought it could wait till later.”


The relief on Draco’s face was unmistakable. He planted a kiss on Pansy’s cheek and she elated by the response. “You're the best, Pansy,” he said huskily.


“I know,” she said with yet another girlish giggle. She leaned it closer to Draco and looked at him expectantly, as though anticipating another kiss.


“Before you make me regurgitate my breakfast,” Hermione said loudly, reminding the two of her presence, “can we please head for our next class?”


“What’s your next class, Draco?” Pansy asked, arm still tightly around Draco’s, acting like Hermione had not spoken.


“Defense Against The Dark Arts,” he replied, “with the Gryffindorks.”


Pansy laughed idiotically at his so-called joke. “Poor baby,” she cooed, finally releasing his arm. “I’ll see you later then.” With that, she strode off in the opposite direction.


“Jealous?” Draco asked, eyeing Hermione who was glaring after Pansy.


Hermione narrowed her eyes. “That will be the day, Malfoy.”

---

Author's Note (this is a long one): Hello all! It’s me again. I just wanted to say that I had a hard time deciding whether or not to post this chapter up. Why, you may ask? Well, it’s not that it’s a bad chapter or anything. I actually really, really like it. I was inspired to write it after I watched ‘Two Weeks Notice’ (funny and cute show!).

Initially, I felt that it was a tad redundant because it helped the plot only in a small way. But a friend of mine, Serina (remember her?) insisted that the whole button bit helped further intensify Draco and Hermione’s predicament. The chapter also showed a little bit more of Draco’s and Pansy relationship (toward the end). Dear Serina also said that this chapter showed that Draco’s still an arrogant, bratty pain-in-the-ass despite showing a spark of emotion toward Hermione in the previous chapter (when he put the blame on Hermione for turning up late for Potions). Personally, I think that Serina’s just loves this chapter as much as I do and therefore wants me to put it up for her sake though she does have a point.

So, I finally made my mind up to let you guys, the readers, decide! Leave me a review, letting me know of what you think of this chapter, whether it was good or bad in your opinion, and whether it deserves to be deleted or not. And based on that response, I’ll decide what to do with this chapter! Thanks guys! =D

Author's Note: Hello people! Firstly, apologizes for the long wait! Secondly, Lucius Malfoy may appear to be a little OOC in this chapter but just to let you know that in my story, ever since Voldermort died, Lucuius Malfoy has been a little OOC. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

---

Chapter 14- Meeting At Midnight


Wednesday passed excruciatingly slow in Draco’s opinion. Teachers seemed to talk slower than usual, lessons were seemingly lengthier and time was taunting him by moving at snail’s pace. He wanted the day to end fast because he could hardly wait to see his father that night.


His excitement, however, was not due to the fact that he missed his father, but was mainly because he could not wait to question the hell out of Lucius Malfoy.


Hermione was still furious at Draco for lying to Professor Snape the previous day, so she was giving him the silent treatment throughout the day. Initially, Draco thought it did not make any difference to him. In fact, he was relieved that he did not have to waste his time arguing with her.


Later, he realized that he rather argue with Hermione so that he could waste time. He needed to waste time. He wanted to waste time.


In between classes, Hermione and Draco had a brief encounter with Michael Corner. Hermione wanted to take the opportunity to clarify with him the events that had occurred in the Boys’ bathroom the previous day.


But before Hermione could get the words out of her mouth, Michael gave her an alarmed expression, saying, “I didn’t see anything, I promise!” Then his face turned as red as a beetroot and he fled in the opposite direction, leaving his classmates, Hermione and Draco staring after him.


“I guess that sort of means he hasn’t told anyone anything about what he thought he saw yesterday,” Draco said as Hermione sighed.


“I hope so,” Hermione muttered to herself, not wanting to talk to Draco.


When the bell that indicated the last lesson of the day sounded, Draco was overjoyed. He could not remember the last time he was so happy hearing the school bell ring.


Dinner today was at the Gryffindor table. Draco ate quietly while Hermione talked to Harry and Ron.


“Still ignoring him, ‘Mione?” Ron asked despite Draco’s presence.


Hermione nodded. “Yes.”


“You should have let us cursed him for what he did yesterday,” Harry said.


Hermione had told them the day before about Draco’s lie during Potions. Needless to say, the reaction from her three best friends was colossal, but she had stopped them from doing anything stupid.


“We can still do it now, if you want us to,” Ginny added with a wicked smile.


“I'm sitting right here!” Draco said all of a sudden. “Can’t you at least try to be discreet?”


“No, Ginny,” Hermione said, paying no heed to Draco’s words, “it’s not worth it.”


Draco scowled and went back to eating his kidney pie.


That evening was spent doing school homework, which was rapidly increasing due to the approaching N.E.W.Ts. Silence hung in the air of the Heads’ common room during the course of the evening, until finally at a quarter to eleven, Hermione shut her book and stared at Draco.


“Are you done with your homework?” she asked reluctantly. She did not wish to speak to him, but she was getting sleepy.


Draco smirked. “My, my, what made you finally decided to talk to me?”


“Sleep, that’s what,” Hermione answered, agitated and too tired to argue.


Draco shut his books and rolled up the parchment on which he had written his Herbology essay. “What if I don’t want to sleep yet?”


“Then I’ll just sleep here, on this table and you can do the same unless you're in the mood for carrying me to the sofa once you start feeling sleepy because I'm not going to get up once I fall asleep,” Hermione replied smugly.


Hermione knew that had struck a cord because Draco threw her a sour look and strode over to the sofa.


Hermione found herself desiring the warmth and comfort of her own bed as her head touched the soft material of the couch. She longed to wear her cozy nightie (particularly the one with the sheep, hearts and pink pompoms) to sleep and wrap herself in her soft comforter as opposed to sleeping with her sweater on. With all these thoughts mingled in her head, sleep shrouded her eventually.


Draco, on the other hand, lay awake and checked his watch at regular intervals. At five minutes to midnight, he got up from his space on the sofa and went over to the armchair at the fireplace, grateful that the Love-Knot stretched the whole distant without pulling him back to Hermione. Glancing up at the portraits, he was glad to see them snoozing in their frames.


Punctually at midnight, Lucius Malfoy’s head appeared at the fireplace. “Hello Draco,” he said in his custom drawl. “How have you been?”


Draco had promised himself that he would deal with his father in a calm and cool manner, but the minute he saw his father, something in him just snapped.


“How have I been?!” he exclaimed incredulously. “You send me some enchanted object that binds me and Granger together for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week and you’re ask me how have I been?! How do you think I've been?!”


“Good to know that you've been doing well, son,” Mr. Malfoy said as though he did not hear Draco’s exclamation.


Draco glared at his father. “Are you even listening?!” his voice rose a notch.


“Draco, keep your voice down,” Mr. Malfoy warned. “You might wake the portraits.”


Unbelievable. Un-bloody-believable, Draco thought. Here he was having the worse time of his life but Lucius Malfoy was more concerned about waking the portraits.


“Now, where’s my future daughter-in-law?” Mr. Malfoy asked in what appeared to be an eager voice.


Draco’s jaw seemed to drop to the ground, burrow itself through the earth’s core, and shoot out the other side of the planet. After a few long moments of gaping at his father, he finally got his face back together. “Did you just call Granger your future daughter-in-law?!” Draco asked, still staring at his father intently. “Have you gone out of your mind?!”


“Draco, that’s no way to�””


All of a sudden, a piercing scream echoed through the common room, alarming Draco and interrupting Mr. Malfoy.


Draco looked around and saw Hermione facing him, screaming her lungs out while kneeling on the sofa. He quickly leapt over to her and clamped his hand over her mouth.


“Will you shut up, Granger? Wake the whole castle up, why don’t you?!” he said, highly infuriated.


“What is going on here?” Godric Gryffindor asked, his precious sleep obviously disturbed.


Both Hermione and Draco looked up at the Gryffindor founder and saw that his partner, Salazar Slytherin, was throwing them venomous looks.


“Nothing, nothing at all,” Draco said with a forced smile. “Granger here was just having a very bad dream. Weren’t you, Granger?”


Hermione frowned.


“Weren’t you, Granger?” Draco asked in a tone that suggested he wanted her to say yes regardless of what the actual answer was.


With Draco’s hand clamped over Hermione’s mouth, she nodded and waved at the portraits, attempting to smile.


“A bad dream, eh?” Salazar Slytherin said bitterly. “Well, I'm not taking anymore chances. I'm going to some other portrait to sleep.”


“I'm right behind you, Salazar,” Godric huffed.


Within seconds, the two founders vanished from their pictures.


Hermione pushed his hand away and stared at the fireplace. “Who in the name of Merlin is that?” she asked, thrusting a finger toward the fireplace. “Scared the life out of me seeing a head sticking out of the fireplace like that!”


“That’s my father,” Draco replied, sighing deeply. “I was trying to have a conversation with him until I was rudely interrupted.” He gave Hermione a reproachful stare.


Hermione looked in the direction of the fireplace again and squinted slightly. “Well, forgive me if your father looks so sinister and frightening from far,” she said acerbically.


“Now, now, that’s not a very nice way to talk to your father-in-law,” Mr. Malfoy said from the fireplace.


Hermione’s eyebrows shot up so high that they threatened to disappear in her curly brown hair. She stomped over to the fireplace with Draco and stared at Lucius Malfoy’s head. “Did I hear you correctly? Did you just say that you're my father-in-law?”


When Mr. Malfoy nodded, Hermione turned to Draco. “Has your father completely lost his mind?!”


Draco sighed, a gloomy look cast upon his face. “It appears so.”


“Come on daughter-in-law, there’s no need to get so worked up,” Mr. Malfoy said silkily. “I'm just trying to get used to the term.”


“Daughter-in-law?!” Hermione gawked unbelievingly at the head of the man in the fireplace. “I think I'm going to pass out.”


Draco steadied Hermione and made her sit on the armchair while he took a seat in the opposite one.


“I'm very pleased to see that you're taking good care of your future wife, Draco,” Mr. Malfoy said as he watched Draco steady Hermione.


“Firstly, I'm not taking care of her,” Draco shot back. “I just don’t want her passing out on me. Secondly, she’s not my future wife!”


“I second that!” Hermione said from the armchair.


“Come off it, you two,” Mr. Malfoy said with a bored expression on his pale face. “There’s no point arguing about that anymore.”


“Father, I assume that you received my letter,” Draco hastily said before his father had a chance to say anything else.


“Yes, I did receive it, Draco,” Mr. Malfoy replied with a look at his son. “A very long letter you know. Took me ages to read half of it,” he added sneeringly. “After that, I got so bored of your angst-filled teenage outburst that your mother suggested I see you personally to answer all your questions. So here I am son, to elucidate any queries you may have.”


Draco rolled his eyes. Trust his father to get bored reading a letter from his very own son. “First things first father, did you send this to us?” he asked, pointing at the Love-Knot.


“Draco, you cannot possibly be that dense. I thought you were smart enough to figure that out,” Mr. Malfoy said, a trace of amusement in his voice. “I'm surprised with you though, daughter-in-law. I was certain you would know right away.”


“I’m not your daughter-in-law! Stop calling me that!” Hermione cried, irritated with Mr. Malfoy’s behavior. “And just for your information, Malfoy and I did figure it out. I'm presuming he just wants to be sure that you indeed did send it, am I right, Malfoy?”


“Yes,” Draco said with a nod.


Mr. Malfoy gave a cold, forced chuckle. “How sweet to see that the two of you have started to agree on things. I'm delighted that you're finally making some progress, Draco.”


Draco and Hermione grimaced simultaneously.


“Why did you do this to us?!” Draco asked, his anger rising once more. “Do you know that I can’t do anything anymore?! No eating alone, no using the bathroom alone, no Quidditch!”


“You know fully well why I did it, Draco. You not being able to play Quidditch is the least of my concerns. It was the best solution I could think of after the Love Potion, Love spells and Love charms didn’t seem to work�””


“Hold on a minute,” Hermione cut in. “What Love Potion, spells and charms?”


“I sent them to Draco,” Mr. Malfoy said dismissively, “but he said they failed because you were smart enough to figure them out before he had a chance to use them.” A look of puzzlement crossed Mr. Malfoy’ face. “Didn’t you notice Draco using them on you?”


Draco cursed under his breath when Hermione shook her head slowly.


“No?” Mr. Malfoy’s voice dropped a few notches and became increasingly menacing. “According to my dear son here, the first time I sent the Love Potion, you saw it and threw it away yourself.”


“I didn’t even see the bottle, so I couldn't have thrown it away,” Hermione said and Draco sank lower into his chair, cursing even more.


“Draco also said in a letter he sent me a few months back that you used charms to protect yourself from the Love spells and charms, that’s why they didn’t work,” Mr. Malfoy continued, slowly turning to his son and shooting draggers in his direction.


“I’ve heard of such counter-charms, but I've never used them on myself,” Hermione said with a shrug. She did not noticing that Draco seemed to be silently begging her to lie for him.


“Really now?” Mr. Malfoy asked, looking at his son maliciously. “So you didn’t do as I said then, Draco?”


Draco tried to put up a brave front. “That’s all in the past, father! Now, all I want is for this thing to come off!” He pulled at the Love-Knot.


"It’s NOT going to come off. It’s a perfect plan that even an incompetent fool such as yourself, Draco, cannot foil,” Mr. Malfoy seethed. “Eventually, the two of you have to agree to marriage whole-heartedly because there’s no other way around it.” He paused to glance from Hermione to Draco. “And I'm hoping it won’t take too long a time for you two to agree. I’m very keen on having you as my daughter-in-law as soon as possible, Hermione,” he added with a disturbing grin, his fury at Draco momentarily forgotten.


Hermione shuddered in her seat. She had just heard Lucius Malfoy use her first name and the word ‘daughter-in-law’ in the same sentence. She was not feeling too good about it.


“Anyways,” Mr. Malfoy continued, “your mother and I feel that it’s best you two consent to marriage before the end of the school year. We were thinking of having the wedding right after your N.E.W.Ts. Summer wedding, probably at the Malfoy Manor. Your mother has already started picking out the color scheme of the wedding, Draco.”


Hermione was pretty sure she was about to have either hyperventilation or a heart attack there and then and Draco looked like he was about to do the same. “Malfoy, your father’s already planning for our wedding!” she shrieked.


“Well of course daughter-in-law, there’s a lot to plan in a wedding, you know,” Mr. Malfoy said matter-of-factly.


Hermione winced. “Tell him to stop calling me, daughter-in-law, Malfoy!” she implored.


“Father, stop calling her daughter-in-law!” Draco told Mr. Malfoy, who appeared unfazed by Draco and Hermione’s anguish.


“Draco, I'm ashamed. You have yet to marry and you've already started obeying your future wife’s every command?” Mr. Malfoy said with a smirk.


“Father, she’s not going to be my future wife! She’s not your daughter-in-law, I'm not her husband, you're not her father-in-law and there’s most certainly not going to be a wedding! You and mother are planning a wedding that’s not going to take place!” Draco said, his face livid as he stared at his father disbelievingly. “We’re going to find a way to get rid of this Love-Knot some how or another because there’s no way either one of us are going to live with each other for the rest of our lives. This is like a big joke for you!”


“This is by no means a joke, Draco,” Mr. Malfoy said coolly. “This wedding will take place and I reiterate that there’s no other way the Love-Knot will come off unless it has accomplished its objective. It’s a win-win situation for me, you see. Don’t agree, the Love-Knot doesn’t come off and you stay this way forever. Agree and be wedded for life. I want this to go according to my plan, Draco. And you know that I’ll make sure it does,” he added in a whisper, his voice menacingly low.


Draco glared at his father hard, shooting daggers at Lucius Malfoy with his cold grey eyes. He inwardly swore that there was no way he was going to let his father’s plan succeed.


“It’s not going to happen,” Hermione said, voicing Draco’s thoughts. “It won’t happen.”


Mr. Malfoy let out an indifferent laugh, which made his face contort in a strange way. “We’ll see about that, Miss Granger. We’ll see.”


He leered at Draco and Hermione, who glowered back in response.


“Anyway, enough of serious talk. So now tell me Draco, have the two of you had any encounters?” Mr. Malfoy inquired with lazy smile.


“What do you mean by encounters?” Draco asked, befuddled by his father’s question.


“Well, you were mentioning something about not being able to go to the bathroom alone so I was wondering if the two of you�””


Mr. Malfoy’s question was cut short by the strident and unanimous “YUCKS!” that escaped from Draco and Hermione’s lips and rang through the deserted common room.

---

Chapter 15- Aviophobia


Sleep eluded Draco most of the night. He did have many more questions to ask his father, but Malfoy Senior had conveniently whisked himself away. Draco spent his waking hours staring at the Love-Knot contemptuously and tugged at it several times, hoping that it would miraculously drop off.


When he finally did nod off, odd dreams plagued his mind. There was one where the Love-Knot had taking human form and had started laughing at him rowdily, mocking at his helplessness. Then there was another where he was stuck to Hermione for the rest of his life and she turned out to be a giant squid in disguise as a witch.


The most vivid nightmare, however, was the one where Draco and Hermione had gotten married in the most bizarre wedding ceremony ever. It took place in a large marquee at the manor’s courtyard, with decorations in fuchsia and blinding orange.


Mr. Malfoy was smirking to himself as he sat in the front seat, wearing a large hat that read: ‘I’M GOING TO BE THE NEXT DARK LORD BECAUSE MY SON’S MARRYING A MUDBLOOD’ in big, block and red letters. Mrs. Malfoy was in a ridiculous bright pink tutu, dancing around her husband, seemingly celebrating his victory. Pansy and a few other Slytherin girls were threatening to commit suicide in the far corner of the yard of the Malfoy Manor, while the rest of the Slytherins and Gryffindors were having a demonstration march outside, hollering protests at the wedding taking place. And for some reason, there was a very sinister-looking clown in place of the minister conducting the ceremony.


The last thing Draco recalled about that dream was that he and Hermione were standing at the altar, bawling their eyes out while a banshee screeched in the distance…

---

Draco was in a rotten mood the following morning, not only from the nightmares and the late-night meeting with his daddy dearest, but also because he remembered that it was Thursday, which meant that there was Quidditch practice after school. He still had not figured out how he was going to play with Hermione stuck to him. What was worse was that he had yet to essentially tell her that he had practice.


By midday, Draco was having a nasty headache from all the accumulated thoughts in his head. He had to find a solution to the Love-Knot problem, work out how he was going to play Quidditch, settle the tons of homework that had mounted up over the week and to top it all off, he was exhausted due to the lack of sleep from the previous night.


Hermione had noticed the disturbed look on Draco’s face during lunch at the Gryffindor table. She had been stuck to him long enough to know what that meant. Something was bothering the fair-haired Slytherin. She did not bother asking him anything though. She had too many things on her mind to worry about, most of which were to do the Love-Knot and the things Mr. Malfoy had said the night before.


“Hey Draco,” said Goyle as Hermione walked with the rest of the Slytherins to Herbology after lunch, “you comin' for Quidditch practice today? Most of the team’s asking if you are, what with your lil’ problem.”


Draco groaned. He watched as Hermione’s strides stopped short and she turned to stare at him.


“Quidditch practice?” Hermione asked, frowning. She had not thought of that before. She almost forgot that Draco was the Slytherin team captain. “You didn’t tell me you had Quidditch practice today.”


Draco had not been quite prepared to tell Hermione about it yet and he sure as hell had not wanted her finding out this way. Goyle and his big, fat mouth, he thought bitterly. “I was going to mention it to you,” he told to Hermione casually.


“And when exactly were you planning to mention it to me?” Hermione asked, folding her arms. “Five minutes before your practice actually started?”


Draco wanted to say, “I wasn't planning to tell you at all, you see. Just drag you along when the time comes and force you to ride behind me on the broom.” This was the truth. He had come to that decision merely half a minute ago.


But instead, he said, rather condescendingly, “I didn’t think it was necessary for you to know.”


Hermione raised an eyebrow and stared at the blonde, half amused, half frustrated. “So you thought I'd follow you to Quidditch practice without objection? What did you expect me to do while you're riding you broom? Dangle off the edge?”


“Look, I’ll figure it out. All I know right now is that I have to go to Qudditch practice. I'm the captain of the squad! And I love Quidditch. I'm not going to let this Love-Knot ruin it for me!”


“Malfoy, you're being ridiculous! How do you expect to practice Quidditch while being stuck to me?”

---

Hermione’s question was answered at the end of the school day, when Draco forced her to the Quidditch pitch. She had stood rooted on the spot outside the Astronomy classroom (the last lesson of the day) so that Draco would not be able to move her. However, she had no choice but to follow him when he threatened to carry her to the pitch.


Now, here she was, in the Slytherin changing room, with her back faced to Draco so that he could change into his Quidditch robes.


“Malfoy, there’s no plausible way you can ride that broom with me tied to you!” Hermione said sulkily, glad that the room was empty so that she could lash out at him. “This is a serious matter!”


“I know it is! All I'm asking you to do is to sit behind me while I fly on my broom,” Draco explained, fastening his green robes.


“You make it sound so easy, like we’ll be taking a nice, little walk along the beach,” Hermione said, hands on hips. “We’ll be flying a hundred feet in the air, at speeds of a hundred kilometers per hour! In addition to that, there’ll be Bludgers zooming around in every direction! And did I mention that other people will be zooming around on brooms as well?!”


“Exciting, isn’t it?” Draco said, genuinely meaning it.


Hermione’s jaw dropped. “No, it is not exciting! Terrifying, maybe. Dangerous, definitely. But not exciting! I can’t do it. I refuse to do it!”


Draco grabbed Hermione by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. He inched closer towards her, hands still on her shoulders with his wild gray eyes boring deep into her brown ones. “Listen Granger, I'm going to try explaining this to you nicely one last time.


“This means a lot to me. Quidditch means a lot to me. I just need you to sit on that broom, behind me, that’s all. You can even hang on to me, I don’t care. Will you do it without having me to use force?”


“Use force? What do you�””


Draco clamped his hand over her mouth before she could continue. “Just shut up and consider my offer,” he said before slowing removing his hand. Merlin, give her the chance and she’ll never stop talking.


Hermione searched for something in his eyes, something to validate what he said to her. Validate what Quidditch meant for him.


Then she saw it. She saw in those exquisite gray eyes that he truly had passion and fervor for the sport, a similar passion that Hermione shared for books and studying. How could she say no to such passion?


A small internal battle was fought in Hermione’s mind and finally, she said, sighing “Oh, all right, I’ll hang off the edge of the broom for y�”” She bit her tongue before she could say ‘you’. “For the sake of Quidditch,” she amended quickly.


Draco let out a breath he did not realize he was holding. He let Hermione go and grabbed his broom from a nearby bench, without even a 'thank you'.


“But Malfoy, before you get too happy, you’ve got to know one thing,” Hermione paused and wringed her hands together nervously. “I'm afraid of flying.” The mere thought of being airborne sent a quiver down her spine and she grew several shades paler.


“Granger�””


“Actually, afraid would be an understatement. I'm terrified, scared to death of flying,” she babbled, growing more hysterical by the instant. “What if I drop off? What if I slide off the end? You have no idea how�””


“Granger!” Draco exclaimed, shaking her by the shoulders to get her to stop talking. “You won’t fall. I won’t let you.”


Those words rang in Hermione’s ears for a couple of seconds. The look on Draco’s face suggested that he was not lying. There was not an ounce of doubt in his voice. He would not let her crash to the ground. No matter what.

---

The rest of the Slytherin squad ambled into the changing room fifteen minutes later. It did not take Hermione long to figure out that they were all male. She blushed a deep red when she saw that some of them were starting to change right there, not noticing her presence. She quickly stared down at the ground, pretending to be tremendously interested in the cracks covering the gray cement.


“Listen up!” Draco yelled in a voice that commanded attention. “I want to see everyone on the pitch in ten minutes. We’ll start with basic warm-ups, and then get straight to practice. I want the Quidditch Cup to be ours this year!”


“Hey Draco!” Theodore Nott called to his captain before he could leave. Despite the fact that the Slytherin team traditionally encompassed of either tall or heavy players, Nott managed to get on the team as a chaser because the previous captain thought Nott’s light weight and small built could be advantageous traits as a chaser. “She,” Nott pointed at Hermione, “is going to ride with you?”


“I don’t have any other choice, Nott,” Draco replied wearily. “That’s the only way I can play.”


The next few minutes passed too quickly for Hermione’s liking and before she knew it, she was mounting Draco’s broom, settling down behind him. Initially, she held on to the handle of the broom, not wanting to hold on to Draco.


But the instance that Draco kicked off the ground, Hermione immediately wrapped her arms around Draco’s waist. It was a survival instinct, you see.


At first, Draco was a bit puzzled with the feel of Hermione’s arms around his waist. However, he soon came to realize that he should concentrate on the game, and not on where she placed her arms.


“Chasers concentrate on the Quaffle, Beaters on the Bludgers and leave the Snitch to me,” he hollered. He continued to hover slowly, mainly for Hermione’s benefit. He did not want her getting all jittery as that might affect his attentiveness on the game.


Thankful that Draco was riding his broom at a moderate speed, Hermione willed herself not to look down or up and to just focus on the back of Draco’s green robes. She tried to disregard the weird sensation that was building up at the pit of her stomach as the broom rose higher above the ground. Her arms tightened around his waist unconsciously when she felt him pick up speed a bit.


“Goyle, hit that Bludger harder! What’s the matter with you? Haven’t had enough to eat today?!” Draco taunted his teammate loudly.


Breath, Hermione, breath, she instructed herself, trying not to notice that she was feeling a tinsy-bit nauseous. She realized that he was picking up more and more speed and her hands unthinkingly tightened around his waist.


“Granger, lighten up on that grip,” he shouted over the wind. “I'm not going to be able to breath if you keep holding me like that!”


“Sorry!” Hermione said, hastily loosening her grip. Breath in, out, in, out…


A minute passed with Draco still flying gently a few feet above ground, observing his teammates below. He could afford to do so because he had yet to spot the Snitch.


However, that was about to change.


The little golden ball whizzed pass Draco’s right eye and hovered just above the ground. Draco’s attention immediately focused on the Snitch and his concentration on his surroundings diminished. He forgot that his players were scattered all over the field, forgot that there was a Love-Knot around his wrist and most importantly, forgot that Hermione was clinging on to him for her dear life.


Draco prepared to dive from a hundred feet in the air, aiming his broom in the direction of the Golden Snitch that lingered near the ground. All his senses chanted to him one thing, “Get the Snitch, get the Snitch.”


Just as Draco launched his dive toward the Snitch, a blood-curdling scream belonging to Hermione echoed throughout the empty stadium, at once shattering Draco’s devout concentration and halting his dive in mid-air.

---

“Green, put up a notice in the Slytherin common room saying that we need a new Seeker. In the meantime, I'll observe all of you from the stands during your practices,” Draco said to his teammates, who had been instructed to assemble on the field by their captain after Hermione’s panic attack.


“You not going to play no more?” Crabbe asked.


“I don’t think I will be able to,” he replied miserably, giving the Love-Knot a momentary glimpse. He threw Hermione a dirty look, but she did not catch it, as she was too engrossed in calming herself down. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do anything anymore.”


With that, he made his way to the spectators’ bench. He would have to resort to watching his team practice from the Slytherin stand.


Dropping his broom down next to him, Draco sat down on a bench in the front row of the stand. He leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs, letting out a deep sigh as he watched the Slytherins train.


“Come on, Green!” he shouted to his Keeper across the pitch. “Guard the posts properly! Stop letting the Quaffle in!”


Hermione, who was finally starting to breath normally again, cast Draco a sidelong glance. Her heart dropped when she saw the disappointed and dismayed look on his face. She mentally kicked herself for being such a coward when it came to flying.


“Malfoy, I'm sorry about�””


Draco held his hand up, bringing Hermione’s apology to a standstill. “Save it, Granger.”


Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Maybe I could give it another try. I promise I won’t scream this time. I’ll�””


“I said, save it, Granger,” Draco repeated, clenching his jaw and trying his best not to look at her. He was afraid that he might explode at her if he did.

---

That night, after training and a quick dinner, Draco preoccupied himself with homework. Hermione didn’t mind; she had her own homework to do anyway. But she did still feel very bad about ruining his Quidditch practice.


Once again, like the night before, absolute silence presided in the common room, save the scratching of quills, the ruffle of parchment or the occasional flipping of pages.


“I don’t believe it, Salazar,” Godric Gryffindor whispered. “Two nights in a row! No noise, no arguing, nothing!”


“We get lucky sometimes, don’t we?” Salazar Slytherin whispered back with a smug grin.


“We certainly do!” the Gryffindor founder responded cheerfully. Then he grew serious. “What do you reckon happened between them?”


Salazar Slytherin shrugged. “I haven’t got a clue. But knowing teenagers, they probably quarreled over something trivial, which may have seemed like a life and death situation to them.”


Close to midnight, Draco slammed his Arithmancy textbook shut. He was exhausted and body was aching for a good sleep. “I want to sleep now and we’re going to sleep in my room, on my bed.” It was an order, not a statement.


Hermione thought she heard wrong. “What did you say?”


“You heard me Granger. And I'm not in the mood to argue,” Draco said, packing up his books. “You can even sleep on the bed next to me. It doesn’t make a difference.”


“Malfoy, have you gone out of your mind?” Hermione asked. “I'm not sleeping in your room, much less on your bed!”


“What else do you want from me, Granger?!” Draco said so loudly that Hermione jumped in her seat from his sudden outburst. “I'm stuck with you. I've got no privacy whatsoever. I can’t even play Quidditch anymore, dammit! What next?!”


Hermione stared at Draco, momentarily speechless. “Don’t you realize that the same thing is happening to me, Malfoy?” she managed when she had found her voice. “Didn’t you stop to think I can’t do the things I like most too? I had to make sacrifices just like you’ve had to. Do you think�””


“I don’t want to hear it, Granger,” Draco interrupted. “And don’t give that rubbish about sacrifices. I'm so tired of being pushed around, especially by someone like you. Today, it’s my turn to decide. And I have decided that I want to sleep in my own room, whether you like it or not.”


Then, without warning, Draco lifted Hermione out of her chair and started to carry her to his room.


Hermione was left stunned, but when she recovered from her initial shock of Draco picking her up, she let out a yell. “Put me down!” she shrieked, struggling in his arms. “Put me down right now, Malfoy!”


“You asked for it.” And Draco did as was requested of him. He put her down�”and she landed with a loud ‘THUD!’ on the hard, wooden floor.


A yelp of pain escaped Hermione’s lips as her bottom made contact with the parquet flooring. “Why did you do that for?!” she demanded, rubbing her sore bottom.


Draco stifled a grin that was threatening to form on his lips. “Well, you did ask me to put you down, didn’t you?” he said, hiding the grin with a smirk.


“I didn’t mean on the floor!” Hermione snapped as she lifted herself up. She winced when a jolt of pain shot up from her tailbone.


“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Draco said, feigning ignorance. “So are you going to sleep in my room or not?”


“Of course not!”


Draco shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said. “I guess I’ll just have to carry you in then.” He made a move forward and Hermione leapt backwards.


“No, no, wait, I think I have an idea,” she said hurriedly. “Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll take turns to sleep in each other’s bedroom, like how we take turns to sit at each other’s house table during mealtimes. One night your room, the next night mine. Fair enough?”


Draco took a minute to think this through. It did seem fair. He was desperately craving the comfort of his own bed and Hermione’s suggestion seemed valid. “All right, sounds fair to me. So tonight, we’ll start with my room.”


Nodding, Hermione followed Draco up the stairs to his room. He opened the door and she entered the room that she was now familiar with (since she had to come here every morning for Draco to use his bathroom).


“You can sleep in the bed next to me,” Draco said nonchalantly. “It’s fine by me.” When he saw Hermione blush slightly, he added, “You don’t have to worry, Granger, I won’t do anything to you in the middle of the night, if that’s what you're thinking.”


Throwing his t-shirt off (at which Hermione promptly turned away and flushed a deep crimson), he climbed into his bed, pulled the covers up to his chest and drifted off.


Hermione stood rooted on the spot, a little unsure of what she was going to do next. Ultimately, she made her way to the empty space beside Draco. Sliding herself under the covers, she willed herself to fall asleep and to not notice that Draco Malfoy was sleeping next to her, shirtless.

---

Author's Note: Chapter 15, finally! Sorry guys. You had to wait for really long right? Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Oh, and as most of you must have guessed by now, Aviophobia means the fear of flying. Haha...

Chapter 16- Dropping In


The delicate rays of the morning sun streaming through the open window in Draco’s room aroused Hermione the next morning. She stretched luxuriously, feeling thoroughly refreshed after a wonderful night’s sleep on a comfortable bed.


It took her a while to realize that the bed she was on was not her own. Instead, it belonged to Draco, who was lying beside her, still fast asleep. She turned to face Draco and she smiled at the sight that met her eyes.


He looked so peaceful and serene without the perpetual scowl or smirk on his face. His silver-blonde hair was tousled on his head, giving him a child-like innocence that Hermione had never thought possible of him.


His pale and flawless skin glistened in the sunshine and his cherry red lips formed a small pout, as though he was concentrating hard on sleeping. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest was evident even through the thick duvet that was pulled to his broad shoulders.


Hermione chuckled quietly at the boy in front of her. Maybe if he was did not have such a large (humungous would be a better word) attitude and ego, maybe if he changed a little, he would have made a good boyfriend. Maybe.


Sighing softly, Hermione snapped out of her reverie and strained to see the time on the small alarm clock on the nightstand that stood on Draco’s side of the bed. However, the clock was faced at an odd angle, so that it was impossible to see the time unless she reached across Draco to grab it.


And so she did. She used one arm to balance herself and used the other to reach across Draco to grasp the alarm clock. But her fingers barely grazed the clock when she lost her balance and fall onto Draco, on his chest to be exact.


This woke Draco up with a start and he stared at Hermione, who was sprawled across his torso. “Granger, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?” He frowned at the awkward position he found her in. “Were you trying to taking advantage of me while I slept? Couldn't resist me, could you? I knew you had fancied me all along.” The sentence ended with his trademark smirk.


“Be quiet Malfoy! I was trying to get the clock from your bedside table,” Hermione huffed as she got herself off Draco.


Draco cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, right…” he said lazily, checking the time on his alarm clock.


Throwing his blanket aside, Draco walked to the bathroom, with Hermione trailing along behind. She tried her best not to blush (Draco was still bare-chested, you see) while explaining that she was honestly only trying to get the clock from the nightstand, but it would have been easier talking to the wall than trying to get a response out of Draco.


After brushing his teeth, Draco stepped in the shower and shut the shower curtains around him.


Just as Hermione was about to sit down in front of the bathtub, Draco poked his head out of the shower curtain and gave her a cheeky smile. “I'm going to take a shower now, Granger. I know you find me irresistible, but please try to refrain from the urge to peek,” he said before disappearing behind the curtain again.


Hermione stared after him, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. Slowly, the shock evaporated and was replaced by irritation. She could not believe that a few minutes ago the thought that Draco was boyfriend-material had even crossed her mind! She forgot that a Malfoy would always be a Malfoy and this meant that the ego and attitude was going to stay. Forever.

---

Draco was in a considerably good mood this morning as it had turned out well so far. He had had a great slumber the night before and so far, he already mocked Hermione not once, but twice. Maybe the rest of the day would go just as well. Thoughts of Quidditch practice the previous day was slowly fading from his subconscious.


He followed Hermione into her bathroom since it was her turn to take a shower. She went through the usual routine�”brushed her teeth, got into the tub, closed the curtains, made them opaque black and then sealed them to the wall at each end.


This routine of hers still highly amused Draco. Does she honestly think that I’d have the compulsion to peep at her? he thought with grunt as he settled down in front of the tub.


He heard the water run and sat waiting patiently for her. Eventually, his eyes came to settle on the Love-Knot. I think I’ll ask Granger to go to the library today and do some research, he contemplated. Of course, she’ll do the research and I’ll just sit back and relax. He smirked at his ingenuity. I’ll have to talk to the team about Quidditch practices as well. We’ll have to figure something out…


Draco was snapped out of his ponderings when he heard a voice coming from Hermione’s bedroom. He sat absolutely still and listened carefully. He grew anxious when he heard a shout, followed by a loud clanging sound. Without thinking, he stood up and jogged to the bathroom door, the Love-Knot stretching as he walked.


Before he could turn the knob, however, he was shoved back forcefully by an unseen energy. This energy was so strong that Hermione’s magic was rendered useless, therefore the seal on the shower curtain broke and Draco landed right beside her in the tub.


And there stood poor Hermione, in her black, lacey undergarments, screaming at the top of her voice at Draco’s sudden appearance. She has been doing a lot of screaming lately, hasn’t she?

---

Embarrassment would be an understatement. Mortification would have been only close to describe how Hermione and Draco were feeling. They were walking to the Great Hall in silence, Hermione a good distance ahead of Draco, their discomfiture rendering them speechless. Eye contact was out of the question for them. The two Heads could not even bear to look at each other.


After ‘dropping in’ to see Hermione changing her clothes, Draco had sat rooted to the tub for a good ten seconds, gawking at her stupidly. Only when Hermione had yelled again did he come to his senses. He had made a frantic leap out of the tub before Hermione quickly shut the curtains around her. No words had been exchanged even after she stepped out of the shower, picked up her bag and exited the common room.


Now, as he walked toward the Great Hall, Draco could not get the image out of his head. He could not get her image out of his head �“ her wet, brown hair enveloping her stunned face, the tiny drop of water that had traced its way down from her bare neck to her ample chest, the way her arms had instinctively covered her chest and her exposed flat tummy, and the lacey, black material against her fair skin, which had still been visible through the gaps of her arms. He was getting winded just thinking about it.


Damn, who would have known that Granger would have such an amazing body under all those layers of school robes? Draco thought somewhat bitterly, trying to calm himself down. He looked at the girl who was walking ahead of him and unconsciously found himself wondering of what secrets lay underneath those black school robes. Realizing what he was thinking, he mentally slapped himself. He forced himself to look down at his shoes and not to allow his eyes wander over Hermione’s body.


Hermione, on the other hand, had willed herself not to notice that Draco was walking behind her. Each time she thought about Draco’s dramatic entrance to her bathtub, she flushed a shade of red. Then when she remembered the way he was ogling at her, the heat on her face intensified.


It was horrible! Dreadful! So, very embarrassing!


She did not know whether to be glad or angry that he had not offered an explanation for his sudden landing in her shower. It was a good thing that he hadn’t spoken to her, because she herself was too tongue-tied to talk, but he hadn’t actually clarified how and why he dropped in on her.


Sighing, she entered the Great Hall and made her way to the Gryffindor table for breakfast. She spotted Harry, Ron and Ginny almost at once and she quickly took a seat with them, with Draco, unfortunately, next to her.


“Morning ‘Mione!” they said in unison as Hermione helped herself to some bacon.


“Good morning,” she replied, smiling at her friends.


“We were just talking about meat,” Ron informed her. “Different kinds of them.”


Draco snorted inwardly. Trust Ron Weasley and company to have a full-blown conversation about something as random as meat.


Hermione raised one eyebrow. “How very , erm, intellectual of you to have a discussion about meat, Ron,” she said. “But why exactly are you talking about, of all things, meat?”


“It started with Ron here claiming that bacon is the best kind of meat in the world,” Harry answered, in a tone which suggested that Hermione was not the only one who thought talking about meat was ridiculous.


“I personally think chicken’s the best type,” Ginny said casually, as though she conversed about meat every other day.


“Chicken meat is OK, I guess,” Ron said after a second of contemplation. “But I only like chicken drumstick. The thigh meat's really good.”


Ginny spread butter on her toast. “Drumstick’s all right,” she said, taking a bite into her bread. “My favorite is breast meat though.”


Draco dropped his fork down onto his plate noisily. The words ‘thigh’ and ‘breast’ were not exactly the sort of words you wanted to hear after you see your dorm-mate in the shower half-dressed. Or maybe a quarter dressed. Or a tenth? He shook his head to clear any images that were threatening to form in the corners of his mind.


“What’s wrong with you, Malfoy?” Ron asked inquisitively, upon seeing the tint of pink that had risen to Draco’s cheeks. Even Hermione was eyeing him inquiringly.


“Nothing,” he mumbled. “Just choked on something.” He picked his cup of juice and drank.


“Anyway, as I was saying,” Ginny continued, “I like the breast meat. If cooked the right way, it can be very fleshy, juicy, succulent�””


This time, Draco truly did choke. He coughed and spluttered on his drink, his eyes watering from the sensation of juice in his nose, earning him stares from Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione and other curious Gryffindors.


After one last coughing fit, Draco wiped his mouth on his napkin and turned to Hermione. “I think it’d be breast, I mean best if we get out of here. Now.”

---

The awkwardness continued for the rest of the day. Both Hermione and Draco were having a tough time concentrating on school, Draco’s reason being very much different from Hermione’s.


During Defense Against the Dark Arts, Pansy, who was seated on the other side of Draco, inched toward him as close as she could and whispered (loud enough for Hermione to hear), “I heard about Quidditch practice yesterday. I'm so sorry that she ruined it for you.” She put on a sad smile for Draco’s benefit and gave him a light peck on the cheek.


Draco heaved a deep sigh. “It’s fine, Pansy. I was talking to Blaise about it, and we decided that I could still continuing being the Captain, but I would have to observe the team from the stands,” he whispered back. “I think it’s a pretty good idea. I mean, when I used to play, I wasn’t able to analyze the team play as much since I had to concentrate on the Snitch and all…” His voice trailed off and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was disappointed.


Pansy sniffed, as if deeply moved by Draco’s love for Quidditch. Hermione could see her clutch his hand under the table. “You poor thing,” she said forlornly. Then she turned to glare at Hermione. “And it’s all because of this wretched parasite�””


“Miss Parkinson, do you something to say?” Professor Thimble, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year, asked tersely from his desk.


Pansy quickly released Draco’s hand. “Actaully,” she replied with a slippery smile, shooting Hermione a smug look. “I was just wondering if you could tell us something about parasites in the Wizarding World, that’s all.”

---

‘Numerous parts of a dragon�” the hide, the heartstrings and blood in particular�” are used in potion making, used to make magical products and for the cores of magic wands. Numerous parts of a dragon�” the hide, the heartstrings and blood in particular�” are used in potion making, used to make magical products and for the cores of magic wands. Numerous parts of a dragon�” the hide, the heartstrings and blood in particular�” are used in potion making, used to make magical products and for the cores of magic wands.’


Draco gritted his teeth angrily. He had been reading the same line out of his Potions textbook over and over again. He was finding it very hard to concentrate. Images of Hermione in her underwear still plagued his mind. It was pleasantly distracting, in his opinion, but at the same time very disconcerting. Imagine having sexy daydreams about your worst enemy…


Hermione too was having some trouble concentrating. She was trying to interpret runes, but she kept getting the easiest symbols mixed up. Now that the embarrassment had worn off slightly, she was more than curious to find out why Draco had landed in her bathtub this morning. She needed an answer, fast, because her brain was coming up with conclusions that seemed very unlikely.


Finally, she shut her rune dictionary, set away her homework and looked up at Draco. “I was wondering…about this morning…” She saw Draco stiffened up in his chair and realized that this was not going to be as easy as she thought. She herself felt her cheeks flare at the very mention of this morning’s incident.


“What about it?” Draco asked shiftily, as though fearful that Hermione could read the thoughts of her that were playing in mind.


“Why…how come…” She let her voice tail off as she tried to phrase her question before actually asking it. She didn’t want to come off as a blabbering idiot.


“How did you manage to break the seal off the shower curtains and come into the bathroom?” she asked finally.


Draco held his hands up in front of himself in defense. “Wait a minute, don’t make it sounds like I purposely broke the seal and came into the tub!” he exclaimed indignantly. “Honestly Granger, I'm not that desperate, you know.”


“Then what happened exactly?” she asked, brushing aside his last comment.


Draco explained to her everything (softly, so that the portraits wouldn't hear; the humiliation would be unbearable) �” how he had heard the voices from her bedroom, the clanging sound, the yell and how he had stupidly wanted to investigate, only to land himself in her bathtub because of the Love-Knot. When he was done, he saw Hermione frowning.


“So, you heard voices? And a yell?” Hermione asked for confirmation.


When Draco nodded, she said contemplatively, “But there was no one in the room when we left after my shower.”


“Maybe it was a ghost,” Draco suggested. "And quit looking at me like I'm a pervert! I'm not lying about this!"


Hermione cleared her throat. It was hard not to look at him that way. “No, can’t be. Ghosts don’t enter the students dormitory,” she said. “I don’t think they’re allowed there.” She pondered over whom it could have been, and then snapped her fingers. “Of course! How could I not have known…”


“So, who was it?” Draco asked.


Instead of answering, Hermione stood up and motioned Draco to follow her. Leading him up to her room, she threw the door open and entered. She quickly walked over to her bedside table and yanked the drawer open. From inside, she produced Jinx, her mood ring.


“It’s about time!” Jinx cried furiously as Hermione stared down at her. “Do you know how long I've been in there?!”


“I'm sorry, Jinx,” Hermione said to her ring, smiling down apologetically. “Did you make some noise earlier this morning?”


“Well, since I have been cooped up in a dark drawer since Merlin knows when, I don’t have a clue whether it was morning or not,” Jinx said accusingly. “But if you mean a few hours ago, I guess that would have been me then.”


“A mood ring? Yelling so loudly? Making that much of noise?” Draco asked, standing beside Hermione and examining Jinx tentatively. “You sure about that, Granger?”


“Hey, you try being imprisoned in a small dark room for days and days, and you’ll know how I feel!” Jinx scolded. “Ever since I've been locked up, I've been trying to get some attention. Any attention at all. I have bouncing up and down to create some noise, like I did this morning, so that Hermione here would remember that she actually owned a mood ring!”


“That explains the clanging sounds,” Hermione said conclusively.


“Mood rings can bounce?” Draco asked, feeling increasingly doubtful by the second.


“Mood rings do have some magic of their own, you know,” Hermione informed him. “Not much, but a sufficient amount for their small size. I've read about it in The Encyclopedia Of Enchanted Objects.”


“Not very smart, are you?” Jinx sneered at Draco.


“I'm not even going to waste my time arguing with a mood ring,” Draco said, cocking one blonde eyebrow.


“Hey, are you belittling me?” Jinx asked threateningly. If mood rings had hands, Jinx would probably be brandishing her fists at Draco this very moment. Maybe even beating him up.


Hermione cut in before Draco had time to answer. “Jinx, there’s a reason why I haven’t heard you creating all that racket.”


“Really now?” Jinx said, scrutinizing Hermione carefully. “It better be a darn good reason.”


Hermione told Jinx about the Love-Knot and everything it had done to her and Draco. She explained that they had hardly been to their own rooms, except when taking a shower.


“So, that’s why I couldn't hear you,” Hermione said with a sigh. “Every time you made noise, I probably wasn’t in the room. Until yesterday, when Malfoy heard you.”


To Hermione’s surprise, Jinx laughed. “I pity you, Hermione,” the mood ring said. “Love-Knots are tricky buggers. It’s not going to be easy to get it off.”


“Thanks for your encouragement,” Draco said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.


“This bloke’s really starting to annoy me,” Jinx said irritably. “Is he like this all the time?”


“Pretty much,” Hermione said with a shrug.


“Well, I'm going to conveniently ignore him for now,” Jinx said, piqued. “Now, put me on, Hermione. I haven’t had anything to do in a very long time. I'm surprised I'm not getting rusty.”


“But Jinx I�”” Hermione was cut short but the murderous look the mood ring was giving her. “Oh, all right.” She placed the mood ring on her finger and watched carefully as it changed from black into a dim grayish-burgundy color.


“Hmmm…you're definitely exhausted,” Jinx said knowledgably. “And I can also sense some embarrassment. What are you so embarrassed about, Hermione?”


Hermione cleared her throat and felt her cheeks grow hot. She exchanged uncomfortable glances with Draco, feeling tongue-tied. “It’s nothing,” she managed to tell her mood ring, though Jinx did not seem thoroughly convinced.


“If you say so,” Jinx huffed. “Now, why don’t you put me on, blondie,” she said, referring to Draco.


“I’d rather not,” Draco said with a hint of arrogance. “I don’t think mood rings are highly accurate.”


Jinx glowered at him. “If you're scared of what I’ll find out, just say so,” she challenged.


At once, Draco snatched the mood ring from Hermione’s finger and placed it on his own. It was true that he did not want Jinx to think of him as a coward, but it was also true that despite his riches, he had never owned a mood ring before. And the thought of trying it on was quite fascinating.


Hermione’s mood ring turned a deep scarlet on Draco’s finger. “Oh, this is very interesting,” Jinx chuckled.


“What so interesting?” Draco asked, staring at Jinx.


“Someone’s feeling very naughty,” Jinx replied in a whisper only audible to Draco.


Draco practically flung Jinx off his finger and chucked it onto Hermione’s open hand.


“What did Jinx say?” Hermione asked, not catching the mood ring’s quiet revelation.


A faint pink rose up to Draco’s pale cheeks. He cleared his throat and tried to calm himself down. “I didn’t hear what she said,” he lied. Of course, he had clearly heard what Jinx said and he knew jolly well what she meant.


Hermione looked down at the mood ring in her hand. “Jinx, what did you say to Malfoy?” she questioned, growing increasingly curious.


“All I said was that he was tired and should get some sleep,” Jinx responded, covering up for Draco. She didn’t think Hermione would be too thrilled to find out that Draco was feeling naughty.


Hermione frowned. “That’s all? Just tired?” she asked, still doubtful.


“Yes, that’s all,” Draco said hastily. He walked over to Hermione’s bed and threw off the covers. “So, I think we should just go to sleep now.”


“Hold your horses!” Jinx barked from Hermione’s hand. “The two of you sleep in the same bed?”


When Hermione nodded, the mood ring burst into uncontrollable mirth. It’s no wonder the Malfoy kid’s feeling so naughty! Jinx thought in wonder.


Hermione stared at her mood ring, thinking that being put away in the drawer for such a long time might have affected her sanity somehow. “Are you quite all right, Jinx?”


“I'm dandy, Hermione,” Jinx replied between laughs. “But I think I need some sleep as well. Why don’t you put me back into the drawer? I'm sure you need some rest too. But, I'm warning you, don’t forget about me!”


“I won’t. Good night then,” Hermione said uncertainly, placing Jinx back into the drawer. And to think just moments ago she was going on and on about how she had been ‘imprisoned’ in the drawer for ages.


“You have one weird mood ring,” Draco commented. “Feisty too, I might add.” He was about to take off his shirt and tuck himself into Hermione’s bed when she stopped him.


“Wait,” she said, holding up her hand. “I want to change into my pajamas first. It’s been ages since I've slept comfortably on my own bed.”


Draco scowled as Hermione started to search through her wardrobe. Finally, she fished out a baby blue cotton nightshirt with matching cotton trousers. She was about to make her way to the bathroom when Draco stopped her. He pulled her back towards her clothes cupboard and began rummaging through it himself.


“Malfoy!” Hermione squealed. “What do you think you're doing, going through my cupboard like that?! Do you have no shame?!”


Malfoy did not answer. He continued poking around her clothes until he at last found what he was looking for. He emerged from inside the depths of her wardrobe holding a nightdress that was all but too familiar to Hermione�” the cotton, white one with large dancing sheep, big red hearts and large pink pompoms for buttons.


“What in the world…? Malfoy…what…?” Hermione stammered.


“Wear this one,” he said, throwing it at her. “You look very sexy in it.” With that, he trotted over to Hermione’s bed. Calmly taking off his shirt, he slipped under the covers and closed his eyes, leaving Hermione to gape after him, wide-eyed, open-mouthed and undergoing a myriad of emotion.

---

Author's Note: Hey peeps! OK, I just want to address an issue that a number of you brought up: the romance between Draco and Hermione in my fic.

Well, I have to be honet with you. I can't speed it out because I've planned this story to go a certain way and if I do anything to change that, it may screw the story up. All I can do is assure you that there will be romance. Believe me! Otherwise, I wouldn't write the fic. =D So be patient, OK? Thank you!

Oh yes, and another thing. The Love-Knot can only stretch for three and a half feet. Anything beyond that will cause the person who causes the stretch to land right beside his or her partner. Hope you liked this chapter!

Chapter 17- Rumors


Though she had been extremely tired a couple of hours ago and had been longing the soothing comfort of her bed, Hermione was finding it very hard to sleep now. And it was all thanks to the Slytherin sleeping next to her right now, who was snoring blissfully, obviously in a very deep slumber.


You look very sexy in it.


The words rang in Hermione’s ears.


What had he meant by that? Was he just teasing her? Did he think that it would be funny to mess with her head like that? Did he really mean it?


Hermione looked down at the sheep nightdress she had ultimately changed into.


You had to be crazy or downright warped to think that anyone would look sexy in this nightgown.


Well, whoever said Draco was sane?


The troubled Head Girl glanced at the sleeping figure of Draco. The moonlight filtering in through the bedroom window shone on his face and Hermione saw a weird expression on his pale features. It was a cross between a smile and a frown.


Just what was going through his mind?


Hermione’s gaze averted to the drawer in which she had left Jinx.


Perhaps there was only one way to find out.

---

Draco was having a dream he did not whether to enjoy or not. He was being held captive by beautiful, exotic women in a large, red room. Lanterns of fire placed along the four walls illuminated the room, giving it a fiery glow. He was chained up by the wrists to one of the walls and was wearing nothing except for a pair of cotton, black pants.


There were two girls clad fully in tight leather suits guarding the large metal door that granted entrance and exit. Whips and chains were tied to their waists and they stood balancing on black stilettos.


Quite suddenly, the metal door flew open and in stepped the leader of the clan, who was none other than Hermione Granger.


She wore a tight leather skirt with a matching black lace bustier and her hair was styled wet around her face, which was done up with dark shades of make-up and blood red lipstick. A chunky choker rested on her slender neck and there was a tattoo of some sort on the left side of her chest. She held a thick, black whip in one hand and that was when Draco noticed that gloves with their fingers portion cut off covered her hands. Black boots ran up from her feet, stopping right above her knees, and she stood poised, with her free hand resting on her hip.


After he was done gawking at her, Draco watched as Hermione cracked her whip.


“You have been a very naughty boy, Draco,” she said seductively as she advanced toward him. “Very, very naughty…”

---

For the second time that night, Hermione took her mood ring out of her bedside table. She saw that Jinx was snoozing in the black stone and found it quite amusing. She did not know that mood rings slept too.


“Jinx?” Hermione said softly, feeling a twinge of guilt for waking her up. “Jinx, can you get up please?”


“No mommy, I don’t want to get up,” Jinx mumbled.


Hermione frowned. Mood rings had mommies? “Jinx, I'm not your mommy,” she told the still sleeping mood ring. “Please wake up, I need your help.”


When Jinx did not response, Hermione shook the ring in her hand.


“Yikes!” Jinx yelped, waking up right up. “What in the world do you think you’re doing, shaking me like that?! My head’s spinning a thousand miles per hour!”


“Shhhh!” Hermione placed her fingers on her lips. “Be quiet, Jinx. I don’t want Malfoy to wake up.”


“Hermione, I know you feel bad about not letting me out of the drawer for such a long time,” Jinx whispered, “but isn’t this a little bit too late in the night to make up for it? You can make up for it tomorrow. We mood rings need to sleep too, you know.”


“This won’t take long, Jinx, I promise,” Hermione assured. “I just need you to tell me what Malfoy’s feeling right now.”


Jinx small eyes lit up. “You mean blondie?” she asked, her glee apparent. “You want me to tell what he’s feeling right now? While he’s asleep?”


“Exactly.”


“Then what are you waiting for?” Jinx said excitedly, all tiredness gone and forgotten. “Put me on him! Oh, this is going to be so fun…”


Hermione did as told, carefully lifting one of Draco’s fingers and slipping Jinx on it.


Jinx glowed a deep scarlet, similar to before, but this time, the scarlet was tinged with faint white glow.


“So?” Hermione asked anxiously. The suspense was killing her.


“Well, there’s definitely some confusion in him,” Jinx said, suppressing a giggle. “But blondie here is definitely feeling very naughty…”


Hermione’s brown eyes widened to the size of saucers and her eyebrows shot up. “Naughty?” she repeated. “The boy I'm sleeping next to is feeling naughty?”


“There’s no need to get so worked up, dear,” Jinx said kindly, but not without a chuckle. “Lots of blokes this age feel naughty from time to time. Even your close male friends.”


Hermione thought about Harry and Ron feeling the way Draco was right now and she shuddered. Too much information.


“Was that how he was feeling just now too?” Hermione asked, dreading the answer.


Jinx laughed. “Yes, he was. I thought he’d be bloody embarrassed letting you find that out, so I covered up for the poor bloke. But now I thought it was best I told you.” Her laughter ceased when she saw the horror-struck expression on her owner’s face. “Look here, Hermione, I'm no crystal ball, but I know for certain that blondie isn’t going to do anything to you. I don’t sense any lustful feelings from him, so he’s definitely not a lecherous pervert. So you just need to calm down and go to sleep.”


“But Jinx, do you know what he told to me just now?” Hermione whined. “He told me to wear this nightgown because he thinks I look sexy in it!”


Jinx raised an eyebrow, or at least what looked like an eyebrow on her small face. “Honey, even if the lowest scumbag in this world was drunk senseless,” she said as she skimmed over the piece of clothing Hermione had on, “there was no way in hell he would think that you look sexy in that.”

---

For the first time since they had been stuck together, Draco was the earlier riser of the two the following morning. It was a Saturday and he had wanted to sleep in, but his brain just would not allow him that luxury. Yawning, he turned onto his back and sat up, running a hand through his ruffled hair.


He glanced down at Hermione and saw that she was peacefully asleep. He was thankful to see that she had taken his advice and had worn that awful-looking nightdress. With the way he was feeling yesterday, anything remotely normal on Hermione would have made his thoughts run wild. Or at least wilder than they had already been.


You could call it a self-defense mechanism.


However even in that hideous outfit, as Draco looked down upon Hermione, he felt an odd sort of attraction towards her. He hated to admit it and could not explain it, but he knew it was due to what he had witnessed the previous morning in her bathroom. It was purely physical and there was no doubt about that.


He gagged slightly at his thoughts. What was going on with him? Granger? Attractive? Those two words did not go together.


He shook his thoughts out of his head when he saw Hermione stir. He watched as her eyes flickered open and she slowly sat up.


“It’s about time you got up,” he said, yawning lazily. “Now quickly, go take a shower.”


Hermione spent the next fifteen minutes trying to come up with new spells to place on the shower curtains, to prevent further accidents.


“Granger, you're being ridiculous,” Draco said as he watched Hermione amusedly. “What happened yesterday was an accident because I moved more than three and a half feet from you. That’s all.”



Hermione narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. “Well, you better make sure you don’t move today, Malfoy, regardless of the noise you hear in my room or anywhere else for that matter.”


With that, she performed the routine spells on the shower curtains and stepped inside to take a bath.


“Why is she getting so worked up for?” Draco mumbled as he took his usual seat outside the bathtub. “It’s not like I wanted to drop in on her yesterday. It just happened. Accidentally.”


And Draco had no regrets.

---

After the two Heads had taken their showers, they walked into the common room together, where Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor greeted them. Or at least Godric Gryffindor did. Salazar Slytherin’s greeting was more of a scowl.


“I've noticed that the both of you have stopped sleeping on the couch,” Salazar Slytherin said in his customary drawl. “Sharing a room now, are you? Or sharing a bed?”


“Salazar! That’s really none of our concern!” Godric Gryffindor scolded. Then he turned to the two students. “But, just for the record, are the two of you sharing a room now?”


Draco and Hermione exchanged uncertain looks.


“Yes, we are,” Hermione said slowly. “But only because we were getting uncomfortable on the couch.”


Salazar Slytherin appeared appalled by the idea and was muttering something about 'wretched muggle-borns' under his breath, but Godric Gryffindor was beaming.


“We better get going then,” Draco said, not really wanting to find out what the two founders were going to say next.


As the two students made their way to the Great Hall, they were so unlucky as to encounter Peeves. He leered at them, doing a peculiar sort of jig above their heads.


“I know your dirty little secret!” he exclaimed, grinning like he had struck wizard gold.


Draco glowered at the poltergeist. “What are you talking about, Peeves?”


“Ooooh, the two hotheads have been very bad,” he said in a singsong voice. “They have been doing very bad things.” He snickered and flew into a wall.


“What did he mean by that?” Hermione asked, her brows knitted in bafflement.


Draco shrugged, feeling rather confused himself. “What a nutter.”


Draco and Hermione continued their trip to the Great Hall. On their way there, they passed by a group of students who grew unnaturally silent when they saw the two Heads. The students watched them intently and after a second or two of quietness, they broke out into urgent whispers.


Hermione stared at the group of students, feeling puzzled for the second time in the span of five minutes. “What was that all about?”


“I haven’t a clue,” Draco answered, feeling as perplexed as Hermione.


They reached the Great Hall within the subsequent five minutes. The Great Hall looked the same as it did everyday; bustling with hungry students, the rich aroma of good food tantalizing your nostrils and conversations at full swing.


However, the moment Draco and Hermione stepped in, all activity and conversation was brought to a halt.


“Why are they all staring at us like that?” Draco asked, looking around to see all eyes on him and Hermione. “Is there something on my face?”


Hermione rolled her eyes. Talk about being self-centered.


Conversation started almost as quickly as it had stopped. The Great Hall buzzed with activity again as discussions erupted among the students and furtive whispers were exchanged, but eyes still darted toward Draco and Hermione every now and then.


The students of Hogwarts were obviously talking about them.


Déjà vu would be the best way to describe what was happening. It was a familiar scenario. The same thing had happened with the two when the entered the Great Hall during Christmas and when the new term began. During those two times, the topic of conversation had been the Love-Knot.


But what was the topic this time round?


In midst of all the murmuring, Draco led Hermione to the Slytherin table. They sat beside Blaise, who had a very strange grin on his face. It was cheeky, but not without a hint of admiration and disbelief.


Pansy, who was sitting across Draco, glared at Hermione angrily, resembling a very angry bulldog. She started tearing up her toast into little bits, as though hoping it was Hermione’s head she was tearing into shreds instead of the toast.


Millicent Bulstrode, who was sitting right beside Pansy, wore an expression similar to her good friend. She curled her huge hand up into a fist and was clenching it so hard that her knuckles turned to a pasty white color. She seemed to want to badly punch someone, presumably Hermione.


Meanwhile, the rest of the Slytherins were either talking quietly while pointing at Hermione and Draco, or just blatantly staring. Hermione realized that most of the girls were looking at her like she was filth of the worst kind. She was usually accustomed to their revulsion-filled looks, but there was something very murderous about their stares today.


“I just want to say that I'm proud of you, Draco,” Blaise announced as his friend reached out to help himself to some breakfast. “You really did have your fun with her while you could!”


Draco stared and so did Hermione.


“What the bloody hell are you on about, Blaise?” Draco asked with puckered brows.


“HE’S TALKING ABOUT WHAT YOU AND GRANGER DID IN THE BOY’S TOILET ON TUESDAY!” Pansy exploded abruptly, tipping her glass of pumpkin juice in her fury. “HE’S TALKING ABOUT WHAT YOU AND GRANGER…WHAT YOU… WHAT SHE…”


But Pansy could not complete her sentence. She was shaking with rage and looked like she was about stab Hermione with her fork right there and then. Without another word, Pansy stood up furiously and stalked out of the Great Hall, Millicent following close behind.


“Oh Merlin,” Draco cursed under his breath and smacked his forehead. “Corner must have blurted…”


Understanding finally dawned upon Hermione. She dropped her spoon in a noisy clutter and stared at Draco, horrified.


Michael had let it slip! He had told someone about the toilet incident! And his version of what he had seen in the restroom that fateful Tuesday was so completely different from what actually happened. At the rate news spread around Hogwarts, it was no wonder everyone was giving Draco and Hermione looks! What was worse was that by now, the story had probably been distorted into a number of versions.


“Come on now, give us the little details, Draco,” Blaise urged, looking very keen indeed. “How was it like, getting it on with a Mudblood?”


Hermione’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes but she blinked them back. She did not want to burst into tears in front of the Slytherins.


“Sod off, Blaise,” Draco growled, noticing the crimson that had set Hermione’s cheeks ablaze. “Do you really think I’d get it on with her? Nothing happened. She was just helping me fix my button on my pants.”


“Oh, so it started with fixing the button of your pants eh?” Nott piped in with a bold wink. “Then what?”


“Nothing happened, dammit!” Draco roared. “She was just helping me! ”


This seemed to cause the male Slytherins who were listening in to laugh even more.


“Yes, Draco, we know that she was helping you,” Blaise said with a snigger. “Just tell us how exactly she did that!”


Draco could not believe his friends. What was wrong with them? Were they being this stupid on purpose? He cast Hermione a sidelong glance and saw that she was calmly spreading marmalade on her toast. He could tell that she was distressed, but she was doing a fine job of covering it up. Her cheeks were still tinted red.


Standing up angrily, Draco trudged over to the Ravenclaw table, Hermione having no choice but to follow.


“Where’s Corner?!” he demanded, avoiding the fixated stares he and Hermione were receiving.


“He’s not here,” Stuart Ackerley, a fourth year Ravenclaw student informed Draco. “Didn’t come down for breakfast.”


“If any of you see him, tell him that I'm looking for him!” Draco was just about to turn and head back to the Slytherin table when someone grabbed his arm to stop him.


Draco and Hermione turned to see Harry, Ron and Ginny standing behind them, each bearing a parallel expression of anger.


“We need to talk,” Harry said, his voice deadly soft. He was the one who had grabbed Draco by the arm. “Now.”

---

“And that’s all that happened that day in the Boy’s bathroom. I was just trying to help Malfoy with his button, that’s all!” Hermione said, after finishing her explanation on the actual events that took place that Tuesday. Her friends had dragged her to an empty classroom and had insisted on knowing what was going on.


There was silence from her three friends now, until finally Ron said, “You have serious issues about not being able to walk around without a button on your pants, Malfoy. Now look what you got Hermione into.”


“Shut up, Weaselface,” Draco snapped. “She was the one who offered so generously to help.”


“We were getting late for Potions!” Hermione reminded and Draco rolled his eyes.


“Oh, so that’s why you were late that day,” Harry muttered. “You only told us that you were late because Malfoy was taking a long time in the toilet. You didn’t explain why he was taking such a long time.”



“I didn’t see it necessary then,” Hermione said with a shrug.


“Michael is such a nincompoop,” Ginny said, clearly annoyed by the whole misunderstanding. “I can’t believe I dated him at one time.”


“Well, at least we know that our Hermione isn’t some sort of Scarlet Woman,” Ron pointed out.


“But the rest of the school thinks I am!” Hermione cried out in despair.


“That’s true,” Ginny said sympathetically. “And the rumors are getting worse. Some fella from Hufflepuff was telling his friend something really far-fetched and I had to stop Harry and Ron from beating him up.”


“That’s just brilliant,” Hermione moaned, burying her face in her hands.


“Whom did you lot hear it from anyways?” Draco asked.


“From Lavender,” Ginny replied. “She’s dating Michael. They’ve been together since Thursday I think. So he must have told her. It’s no wonder the whole school knows.”


Hermione’s eyes widened. “He’s dating Lavender?!”


Ginny nodded.


“Of all people…” Hermione heaved a huge sigh. “Now what do we do? I don’t think I’ll be able to bear the staring, pointing and whispering all day.”


“We’ll have to find Corner first,” Draco told her. “Then we’ll take from there.”

---

“Did you hear? Yes, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were…”


“I heard from Jenny who heard from Greg who heard from Alice that…”


“Disgusting, isn’t it? Moreover they’re Head Boy and Girl. And in the dungeon toilet…”


“Who would have ever thought that she would do something like that…”


It was horrible. Rumors flew along the corridors, from common room to common room. Some people were discreet, but others just wanted to be heard.


By midday, Hermione and Draco thought it would be best if they retreated back to the sanctity of their dormitories. Draco had told Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise to be on a lookout for Michael. If they spotted him, they were to inform Draco immediately.


“How will you find out when they locate him?” Hermione asked curiously as they made their way to the Heads’ dormitory.


“We have our means,” Draco responded offhandedly. He gave the portrait the password and entered the common room once it swung open.


“What means?” Hermione pressed.


“It’s really none�”” But Draco stopped short when he realized that they had a visitor.


“Well, hello,” Lucius Malfoy greeted smooth voice, a greasy smile pasted on his lips. “Just the two people I've been looking for. I have come to hear about some rather interesting information…”

---

Author’s Note: Hello all! First and foremost, I would like to thank CraftySlytherin and PhoenixCGandAC for their brilliant ideas! Without them, this chapter would not have been possible.

In case you're wondering, CraftySlytherin came up with the idea of slipping the mood ring onto Draco’s finger while he was sleeping. And PhoenixCGandAC came up with the idea of Michael telling the whole school what he thought he saw in the toilet between Draco and Hermione and that this news should somehow leak out to Lucius Malfoy. Thank you guys for your creativity!

So people, continue giving me ideas because you never know, I may just use your idea in my next chapter. And I love it when you guys give me ideas!

Secondly, I think I've read a story with a chapter that has the same title this one. If that story belongs to any one of you out there, I'm sorry! Hope you don't mind! But if you do, just let me know and I'll change it.

Thirdly, I’d like to say that I won’t be submitting anymore chapters until after the 18th of July for obvious reasons. =D

I’M SO EXCITED ABOUT HBP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Have fun reading it and till then, ta-ta! =D

---

Chapter 18- Pansy’s Outburst


Draco and Hermione exchanged nervous glances as Mr. Malfoy’s smile grew taut, making him look sinister.


“It has been brought to my attention that the two of you had been involved in some activities on Tuesday, in the Boys’ bathroom located in the dungeons,” he said, taking a deliberate step towards them. “Some very remarkable activities indeed.”


Salazar Slytherin sniggered from his portrait. Godric Gryffindor, on the other hand, had gone very red in the face.


“I think I'm going to take a walk,” Godric announced to his companion. “Coming, Salazar?”


“No, you carry on,” Salazar with a malicious smile. “I’d like to be entertained for a while.”


“I would prefer not to discuss the nature of these activities,” Mr. Malfoy continued as he circled Draco and Hermione, like a vulture encircling fresh carcass, “and I must say I'm not particularly pleased with this.” He gave Hermione a venomous look.


“Father, it’s not what it seems…”


“You didn’t need to hide it from me, Draco,” Mr. Malfoy interjected, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezing it hard. Draco flinched under the pressure of his father’s grip. “I asked for progress and what do I get? Promiscuous behavior.” He glared at the two students now in front of him. “I never expected this of you.”


“But nothing happened between us that day!” Hermione said frantically, unable to stand the sickened look on the older Malfoy’s face. She could almost hear the thoughts in his head saying, “I should have expected this of a filthy Mudblood”.


“Draco, a word with you. Alone,” Mr. Malfoy said, pulling Draco aside.


Draco sighed. “Look, father, nothing�””


“Let me speak, Draco,” Mr. Malfoy interrupted, holding up his hand to silence his son. “This is not what I expected of you.” He lowered his voice a couple of notches. “You're a Malfoy, Draco. Whatever happens, you still have to remember what she is.”


Draco glared at his father. One moment he was calling her ‘daughter-in-law’ and the next, she was back to being filth. Does this man even know what he wants? “Father, you are the one who seems to be forgetting who she is!” he retorted. He heard Hermione sigh angrily in the background and lowered his voice. “Wasn’t this your idea in the first place?”


“Don’t take that tone with me,” Mr. Malfoy warned. “It wasn’t my idea for the two of you to do something like that. I specifically said to start being kind that Granger girl, so that she will be smittened and agree to marriage.”


Despite the fact that nothing happened between Hermione and himself, Draco scowled and said, “Well, wouldn’t you consider this progress then?”


“Not at all. I would have known if there was progress. Agreeing to marriage wholeheartedly and performing an act for physical gratification are two very different things,” Mr. Malfoy shot back sternly, this time loud enough for Hermione to hear as well. “In spite of carrying out those acts in the toilet on Tuesday, you two have obviously not develop the feelings I want you to develop for each other, otherwise the Love-Knot would not still be tied around your wrists.”


“Physical gratification?! Nothing happened! It was a simple misunderstanding!” Hermione exclaimed defensively. “I was just fixing the button of his pants!”


“Is that what you kids call it nowadays?” Mr. Malfoy asked with an arch of a pale eyebrow.


“No! She was really just fixing the button of my pants!” Draco tried telling his father, who seemed to be in a world of his own.


“You don’t have to lie to me, Draco,” Mr. Malfoy jeered. “Your mother is furious as well, you know. She is as shock as I am. She wanted to come down here with me, but I assured her that I could handle it myself.” He shook his head solemnly. “Such appalling behavior. The next thing you know, Miss Granger will be pregnant before marriage.”


Hermione turned a brilliant shade of red.


A sneer appeared on Mr. Malfoy’s face and his lips curled in distaste. “I want the two of you to agree to marriage and that’s all,” he said coldly, surveying Hermione as if she was an insignificant piece of dirt under his shoe. The pretense of liking her was non-existent today. “I certainly don’t want you having a child with her.”


Hermione frowned at Mr. Malfoy and his statement. It was a strange choice of words. Then the implication of his words hit her and she gasped quietly.


I certainly don’t want you having a child with her, the sentence rang through Hermione’s head again.


…don’t want you having a child with her…


…with her…


Lucius Malfoy doesn’t want me bearing his grandchild! Hermione thought wildly. Even if, by some bizarre miracle, I do agree to marry his son, he doesn’t want a muggle-born to produce his son’s heir!


Hermione’s contorted her face in revolt, as if she had just eaten a vomit-flavored Bertie Bott’s Every Flavored Bean, and her face turned a very nasty shade of red.


The nerve of that man! He wanted his son to marry a muggle-born so that he could strut around the Wizarding World to show what a great man he was, yet he did not want that same muggle-born giving birth to his grandchild! The double standards were unbelievable! What was he planning to do to get a grandchild? Employ a surrogate pure-blood mother?


“You horrible man!” Hermione blurted angrily before she could stop herself. “You horrible, horrible man!”


“Granger, what the hell do you think you're talking about?!” Draco questioned. “You're speaking to my father here. You better watch that tongue of yours!”


“Draco, let her speak,” Mr. Malfoy said with uncanny calmness. “On what basis do I deserve this insinuation, Miss Granger?”


Hermione glared at him.


“You know exactly why I said that,” she said, incensed by Mr. Malfoy’s attitude. “You want me to marry your son despite the fact that I'm muggle-born, but for that precise reason, you don’t want me bearing his child!”


Draco stared at Mr. Malfoy, looking aghast. Evidently, he was astonished to the level his father could sink. “Granger,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving his father, “you better know what you're talking about.”


“I know very well what I'm talking about!” Hermione snapped. “And your father knows that I'm right. Am I not, Mr. Malfoy? That’s what you implied when you said you didn’t want Malfoy having a child with me, isn’t it?”


Mr. Malfoy laughed; a cold, hollow laugh that echoed through the silent common room. “Miss Granger, I haven’t a clue what you're talking about. You’re clearly delusional,” he said coolly. “I just don’t want my son and future daughter-in-law to do anything foolish that they’ll regret later on, especially since youths these days are so impetuous. What happened in the bathroom between you two is intolerable, and anything beyond that is completely unacceptable.”


Hermione glowered at him. He had not answered her question. He had merely evaded it. She understood that it would be meaningless trying to argue with him at this point.


“Father!” Draco roared, his own cheeks stained with color. “That day in the bathroom, Granger was just�””


Mr. Malfoy held up his hand. “I'm not interested in the details, Draco,” he said, looking a bit repulsed. “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”


Draco groaned in exasperation. Why wouldn’t his father just listen to him?


“Who did you hear this from anyways?” Draco asked, glaring at his father.


“Who I heard from is really none of your concern, Draco,” Mr. Malfoy replied in a bored tone.


“Well, whoever you heard him from gave you the wrong information,” Draco said in annoyance.


“You mean there’s more to it?” Mr. Malfoy’s eyes widened slightly in half-disgust, half-amusement.


“Yes.” But when he saw the look on his father’s face, he quickly added, “I mean, no! Not the way you're thinking!”


Mr. Malfoy shook her head. “I already told you, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I'm presuming it was a spur-of-the-moment act, one that is never to be repeated ever again.”


“How could it have been in the spur-of-the-moment when nothing even happened?” Hermione said, trying her best to keep her voice down. She was still livid about the whole ‘not bearing a grandchild with a muggle-born’ situation.


“Shy about it now, are we?” Mr. Malfoy suggested with a shallow cackle. “You weren’t so shy about it when you were actually doing it.”


“Father!” Draco yelled, not sure why he came to Hermione’s defense. He just felt it was unfair that Mr. Malfoy thought of Hermione as wanton.


“Don’t shout at me, Draco.”


Hermione glared. It took her all her will power not to go forward and slap Lucius Malfoy on his face for saying that. Nothing happened between Draco and herself. Yet he refused to believe that nothing had happened even though he keeps emphasizing that he is appalled by the whole situation and wished it never happened! He was in a perverse sort of denial.


“Now, I think it’s time for me to leave you alone, though I really rather not,” Mr. Malfoy said, fanning his traveling cloak out behind him. “I just came here to check on you and it’s a good thing I did. I hope I don’t have to visit you for the purpose of reprimanding you for such stupid mistakes again.”


Before Draco and Hermione had time to say anything else, Lucius Malfoy had disappeared in a cloud of thick, white smoke and it was Hermione who had turned toward the window in time to see a black bat flutter out.

---

“Everyone’s staring!” Hermione whispered tetchily as she and Draco entered the library. After Mr. Malfoy left, Draco had insisted that they head for the library for some research on the Love-Knot.


After countless times refusing, Hermione had finally given in because she was afraid that Draco might have carried her there if she continued saying no. That would most certainly have given rise to a whole new bout of rumors. And Hermione did not feel like attracting any more attention.


But now, Hermione found herself wishing that she had stood firm by her decision of not leaving the common room because instantly all eyes of the students in the library fall on them. She should have shot Draco a stunning spell rather than let him drag her here.


“It’s not that bad,” Draco whispered back. “There aren’t many people here.”


“It doesn’t make a difference because everyone who is here is still whispering and staring!” Hermione told him irritably.


“Look, my father’s going on and on about how what happened should not have happened when nothing did happen!” Draco hissed, then he paused to frown, as though he was a little confused about what he said. “You know what I mean…”


When he saw Hermione grimace, he continued, “Therefore, you’d know that the only way all our problems can be solved is if this,” he pointed at the Love-Knot irritably, “disappears, without us having to agree to marriage. Am I right?”


Hermione nodded in response.


“So, do you want to get rid it or not?” Draco asked, watching her carefully.


Hermione nodded mutely again.


“Then we’ll have to keep looking until we find something, anything.”


Turning away from Hermione, Draco started pulling books that he thought were useful off the shelves. Hermione sighed and began to do the same. He was right. Getting the Love-Knot off would solve everything and prevent any future problems from occurring. None of this would have happened if it Lucius Malfoy had never given it to them in the first place.


They piled themselves up with as many books as their arms would allow them to carry and made their way to the emptiest corner of the library, away from prying eyes. They took a book each from the pile and immersed themselves in research.


Hermione was surprised to see Draco so absorbed in his work. She had expected him to give up after the first book and count on her to look through the remaining books herself.


He must be really determined to get the Love-Knot off, she thought as she sneaked a glance at him. Or at least for now he is.


Their research was interrupted when Parvati decided to pay them a little visit.


“Hello Hermione,” she said, tossing her long, plaited hair behind her. “Are you busy?”


Hermione groaned inwardly and looked up from her book. She knew for certain why Parvati was here. She wanted to hear a first-hand account of the rumors that she had heard.


“Yes, I am busy actually. Very busy,” Hermione said with an edge in her voice. “So if you don’t mind, maybe I’ll talk to you some other time.” Maybe.


“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t take too much of your time,” Parvati assured with a toothy grin and a glance at Draco.


“Hey, she said she’s busy,” Draco told her curtly. “Do you have a problem understanding that?”


Parvati looked like someone had threw a glass of cold water in her face. Clearly offended, she stood up, gave an indignant sniff and walked away.


“Thanks,” Hermione mumbled quietly and went back to reading.


Hours of fruitless research ensued, until they gave up and decided that dinner was in order. After Hermione checked out a book, they left the library with lingering looks from its occupants.


“Still no news of Corner,” Draco muttered as they headed for the Great Hall. “Probably hiding from us now that he opened his big, fat mouth.”


“I still can’t believe he slipped,” Hermione said with a sigh. “And to Lavender of all people.”


“Should have used the Memory Charm on him that day,” Draco said, obviously disappointed that he did he let the opportunity slip by.


“But it’s against the rules!”


“Modifying the git’s memory would have kept his mouth shut and we wouldn't be in this situation,” Draco reminded her bitterly.


Hermione glared at him, “You're Head Boy and you've got certain responsibilities. You can’t go around performing such charms on random students.”


“In order to save my arse and reputation from such humiliation,” Draco snapped, “I jolly well would have.”


“That’s very selfish of you.”


“I'm a selfish person.”


“I can see that.”


“Congratulations on being able to see then.”


“You're really infuriating, you know that Malfoy?”


“Speak for yourself, Granger.”


They fell silent and continued to walk quietly when Hermione chose not to retort.


“I need to use the toilet,” Hermione declared suddenly, taking a detour from their route to the Great Hall to the nearest Girl’s bathroom.


They walked in and Hermione attempted to push open the door of the first cubicle, only to find it occupied.


“Make sure none of your buttons pop out,” Draco said only half-jokingly as Hermione entered the second cubicle and shut the door behind her.


It only took Hermione a minute or two, after which she came out and went over to the sinks to wash her hands. “You don’t have to worry about any popping buttons,” she told Draco as she placed her hands under the running water from the tap. “And even if one does pop, I've got my wand with me to fix it myself.”


Draco scowled at her.


Just then, the doors of the first cubicle that had been in use burst open and Pansy came tumbling out, a maddened look flashing in her bloodshot eyes. Before anyone knew what was going on, Pansy had flung herself onto Hermione, the former pinning the latter onto the bathroom floor.


“YOU BITCH!” Pansy screamed, grabbing a handful of Hermione’s brown hair and tugging it hard. “YOU SLUT! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO DRACO!”


“Ouch! Get off me! Get off me!” Hermione shrieked, kicking Pansy as hard as she could.


Draco stared at the two girls, not knowing whether to be horrified or amused. Finally, when it looked like Pansy would rip Hermione’s scalp off, he shouted, “Pansy, stop it!”


Pansy tugged at Hermione’s hair even harder. “I KNEW ALL ALONG THAT YOU FANCIED HIM!”


Hermione managed to force a laugh from below Pansy. “Are you mad?!”


“Granger, shut up!” Hermione heard Draco say from somewhere above her. She saw that he had his arms around Pansy and was apparently trying to pull her off.


“YOU BETTER STAY AWAY FROM HIM, MUDBLOOD, OR ELSE I’LL KILL YOU!”


“In case you don’t realize, I CAN’T STAY AWAY FROM HIM!” Hermione tried pointing at the Love-Knot that was stretched between herself and Draco, but Pansy was too engrossed in her fury to take notice.


“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!”


“Pansy, get off Granger! And Granger, will you just shut up!”


“I said, I CAN’T STAY AWAY FROM HIM!” Hermione yelled into Pansy’s face. “Because we’re�””


Hermione never got to complete her sentence because Pansy had brought her hand down on Hermione’s cheek in a resounding slap.


“Pansy!” Draco’s eyes widened and, with some effort, he dragged her off a stunned Hermione, whose left cheek now had a vivid red imprint of a hand.


Hermione’s hand automatically flew to the spot where Pansy had hit her. Her cheek was now smarting with pain. She was about to launch herself on Pansy, but Draco had placed himself between them, so she could not reach the Slytherin girl.


“How dare you slap me?!” Hermione barked.


“How dare you do that to Draco?!” Pansy shouted back.


“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Draco hollered and immediately the two girls fell silent, but they were still seething with anger.


Draco turned to Pansy. “Nothing happened between us!” he told her. He started explaining what had actually happened in the Boys’ bathroom that Tuesday and what Michael Corner thought he saw.


Pansy pointed at Hermione once Draco was done. “So she didn’t…”


“No, she didn’t,” Draco confirmed.


“And you didn’t…”


“No, Pansy, I didn’t.”


“Really?”


“Do you honestly think I would?!”


Pansy threw her arms around Draco in relief and all traces of her anger vanished. “I knew it all along!” she squeaked in delight. “I knew you wouldn't…I mean, she’s a Mudblood after all.”


“If you call me that one more time, I won’t hesitate to hex you into next week!” Hermione warned, rubbing her still red cheek.


However, Pansy was not listening. She was too busy snogging Draco to pay attention to Hermione.


Hermione gagged a little, but not before an unfamiliar emotion overtook her for a second. She shrugged the feeling away and waited till Pansy was done detaching her face from Draco’s.


“If it’s not too much trouble for the two of you, can we have dinner now?” Hermione asked impatiently.


“Dinner sounds wonderful!” Pansy said happily as she locked her arm in Draco’s.


Hermione winced. She would have to endure Pansy’s lovey-dovey ness throughout dinner. What a lovely dinner it was going to be.


Pansy practically skipped all the way to the Great Hall. It was quite a sight to behold for the diners of the Great Hall when Draco walked in with a sullen-looking Hermione on his right and a beaming Pansy on his left. The furtive glances and quiet discussions started almost at once.


“Does this school do nothing but gossip?” she mumbled grumpily as she took a seat on the Slytherin table.


“Ah, Draco,” Blaise said with a pert smile on his arrogant face, “finally decided to join us for dinner. Where have you been the whole day? Goyle was saying that you were in the Heads’ dorm together with Granger. Up to something again?” he added with a wink.


“Nothing happened that day, Blaise!” Pansy snapped before Draco could answer. “So shove off and leave Draco alone.”


“Pansy’s in denial,” Blaise snorted and a few of the Slytherins surrounding him sniggered.


I'm not in denial!” Pansy said and Blaise joined in the sniggering with the other Slytherin.


Just as it looked like Pansy was about to whip her wand out and curse Blaise into nothingness, Crabbe and Goyle burst into the Great Hall and rushed to the Slytherin table.


Panting hard, Crabbe managed to say between breaths, “Draco, we found Corner.”

---

Author’s rather long and lengthy note: Hey guys! I’m truly sorry for the LONG wait! It must have been annoying and I don’t blame you for wanting to pelt me with rotten eggs. Anyways, I just want to mention a few important things.

For one, I've had to re-do this chapter so many times that I think it’s lost most of it’s original essence. It went from being funny (in my opinion) to being serious (again, in my opinion). I liked it better before, but I guess I have to adhere to rules. Nevertheless, here it is. Anyone who is interested to know what the conversation that was originally written between Draco, Hermione and Lucius Malfoy was, leave me your email address at the end of a review. I’ll send it to you upon request.

Two, I'm sure most (if not all) of you are aware of the recent events that took place in the sixth book, HBP. So, a few things to note. Firstly, Draco and Snape will remain as they are in my story. What does this mean? This means that Draco and Snape will still remain dick-heads in my story, but not as big dick-heads as they were in HBP (I think you guys get my drift, yeah?). So, in a way, the Draco in my story is unaffected by the changes the Draco in HBP went through (I'm confusing myself now, so if you guys don’t understand, I don’t blame you).

Secondly, the character that dies is not dead in my story!! Haha…I'm sorry, strong feelings about that. =D

Thirdly, Harry and Ginny aren’t together and it’s assumed that they weren’t together at all during any point of their stay in Hogwarts (in my fic only, of course). If any Harry and Ginny shippers have violent objections regarding this, please let me know and I’ll see what I can do about it.

Chapter 19- Confrontations and Clarifications


Hermione found herself being dragged away by Draco for the second time today, and this time, it was to the Slytherin common room. He was walking so fast that Hermione found herself having to jog to keep up.


“Where did you find him?” Draco questioned his two cronies, who were scampering behind him, struggling to keep up with Draco’s long strides.


It was Goyle who answered. “He found him near the lake taking a night stroll with that girlfriend of his,” he said breathlessly.


“We tried sending you a message�”” Crabbe started but stopped suddenly and threw Hermione a surreptitious look. He obviously did not want her knowing what he was talking about. And he had achieved that. Hermione looked clueless and curious. “But when you din reply, we went to go look for you.”


They rounded a corner in the dungeons and finally reached the Slytherin common room.


“Corner’s really going to get it,” Draco muttered angrily.


“You're not planning to beat him up, are you?” Hermione asked tentatively. Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles ominously from behind.


Draco did not reply. Instead he said, “Runespoor,” which was the Slytherin common room password.


Hermione entered after Draco and stood still for a while, examining the interiors of the Slytherin common room. It was a dull, dungeon-like room filled with dark green couches and dark-colored furniture. The temperature in here was considerably lower than outside. Hermione attributed this to the fact that the room was located below the lake. It was a bleak place very much suited for its inhabitants. For now, it was empty as most of the Slytherins were having dinner at the Great Hall (Hermione was grateful for that).


A sudden jerk forward brought a halt to Hermione’s observations and she realized that Draco was moving on forward. She moved on together with him and spotted Michael Corner seated on an armchair in the far corner of the room, looking utterly terrified. Millicent Bulstrode stood next to him, acting as his apparent warden to prevent him from running away.


“Millicent, you can go for dinner now. You too, Crabbe, Goyle,” Draco said as he approached them, sounding like an army general giving his subordinates an order.


“But Draco, I thought we’re going to beat Corner up?” Crabbe whined, clearly disappointed that he was not going to be able to shove his massive fist into someone’s face and break a bone or two.


“I can handle him myself. Just go have dinner. Now,” Draco commanded.


Draco watched Millicent, Crabbe and Goyle hurry off, and then turned his attention to Michael. “Corner, you're in such big trouble,” he said quietly, almost threateningly.


“Malfoy, you don’t have to scare him like that,” Hermione sighed from beside him. “Michael, we just need to clarify a few things with you.”


“Oh come off it Granger, you sound like you're ready to invite him to a prissy tea party!” Draco scoffed.


“At least I don’t look like I'm going to hack him into little pieces!” Hermione snapped.


“Y…You're going to hack me to little pieces?!” Michael stammered, looking even more terrified than before.


Draco folded his arms across him chest and fixed Michael an angry stare. “I just might if you don’t tell me what possessed you to tell the entire school what you think you saw me and Granger doing in the Boys’ toilet on Tuesday.”


Michael’s eyebrows shot up and were nearly hidden in his brown hair. “But I didn’t tell anyone! I swear!”


“Oh, is that right? Is that why everyone thinks that Granger and I were getting it on in the bloody lavatory?” Draco inquired, cocking one of his blond eyebrows.


Michael flushed at Draco’s choice of words and Hermione resisted from whacking Draco across the head.


“Can you be anymore tactless, Malfoy?” Hermione grumbled through gritted teeth.


Draco ignored Hermione and went on, “So, why did you do it, Corner? Thought it’d be fun to ridicule our already miserable situation?”


“Look Malfoy,” Michael said, trying to put up a brave front. “I didn’t tell anyone.”


“You sure? You didn’t tell anyone?” Draco towered over the seated Michael menacingly. “Not even that girlfriend of yours?"


“Lavender?” Michael frowned. “Yes, I did. But she promised she wouldn't tell anyone!”


Draco swore under his breath. “That didn’t work out now, did it? She didn’t not tell anyone, she told everyone!”


“Why did you decide tell her, Michael?” Hermione asked, this time undeniably understanding Draco’s exasperation.


“I didn’t mean to,” Michael said ruefully. “We were having a conversation and somehow she started talking about how romantic it would be to have a Love-Knot on…”


Both Draco and Hermione did a double take. “Romantic?!” they repeated in unison, exchanging unbelieving looks.


“Your girlfriend must be off her rocker,” Draco snorted.


“Romantic is not one of the adjectives I’d use to describe our situation,” Hermione added with an incredulous chortle.


Michael seemed to take offense in the fact that Hermione and Draco thought his girlfriend had lost her mind. “If you look at it from her perspective, it’s actually quite�””


“Corner, I'm not interested in your girlfriend’s perspective,” Draco interrupted. “So get on with it.”


Michael scowled slightly and still looked somewhat affronted. “While we were talking about the Love-Knot,” he continued, “the subject shifted automatically to…” The scowl on his face faded away and was substituted by a sheepish look.


“You started talking about us, didn’t you?” Hermione prompted, gesturing at herself and Draco.


Michael nodded. “Lavender brought up the topic about the two of you since you're the only people who she’s seen with a Love-Knot on. She was saying how it’d be hilarious if the two of you actually end up…you know…together…” He trailed off with a shrug.


Draco gave Michael a pointed look. “Yes, that would indeed be hilarious. I'm laughing my arse off just thinking about it…”


“Go on, Michael,” Hermione encouraged, rolling her eyes at Draco.


“And then I told her that the two of you just might because I saw the two of you in the bathroom doing…” He trailed off again and blushed. “I…I didn’t want to tell her what I saw but she forced it out of me.”


“What did she threaten to do if you didn’t tell her? Not snog you?” Draco asked with a grunt.


“Malfoy, stop it!” Hermione shot as Michael turned a deeper shade of scarlet.


“Well, what ever you told your girlfriend was what you thought you saw, and not what happened. And your girlfriend went to tell everyone what you told her, which is not true because what you thought you saw and what actually happened are two very different things,” Draco said sternly in seemingly one breath.


Michael gave Draco a confused stare.


“So, now,” Draco continued, “the whole school thinks that I'm banging�””


Hermione quickly clamped Draco’s mouth with her hand to cut him off. She was afraid to think of what other words he might use if she allowed him to continue.


“Michael, what Malfoy means to say is that the whole school seems to be under the wrong impression of what happened between us in the bathroom because you're under the wrong impression of what actually happened,” she said diplomatically as she slowly removed her hand from Draco’s mouth.


This statement left Michael even more puzzled than before.


“You see Michael, I wasn’t doing what you thought you saw me doing to Malfoy,” Hermione explained, a touch of pink rising up her cheeks. “I was merely fixing the button of his pants.”


Michael stared. “What’s that suppose to mean? Are you speaking in code? Is that a euphemism�””


“No, troll-brain, she’s not speaking in code and neither is it a euphemism,” Draco cut in before Michael made anymore assumptions. “She means it literally.”


“Literally?” Michael repeated, frowning deeply. He turned to Hermione. “You mean you were actually fixing the button on Malfoy’s pants?”


“Yes, I was,” Hermione confirmed with a nod. “To summarize, the button of his pants had popped out, he didn’t have his wand, we were getting late for Potions, he refused to leave the toilet until his stupid button was in place, so I helped him fasten it back with my own wand.


“But from the angle which you saw us, you thought I was…” She paused briefly to think of how to put what she was trying to say in a decent manner, “doing something else,” she finished rather lamely. “I wanted to explain to you there and then what it was I was in fact doing, but you disappeared so fast that I didn’t get the chance to.”


There was silence from Michael as he digested the information Hermione had just given him.


“You were really just putting his button back?” Michael asked quietly, breaking the silence.


Hermione pursed her lips together before replying, “Yes, Michael.”


“Really?”


“Darn it Corner, you can’t be such a sodding moron, can you? Do you need me to spell the words out for you?!” Draco snapped impatiently.


“Malfoy, leave him alone,” Hermione told Draco.


“Oh no,” Michael murmured, hanging his head guiltily after a moment’s hush, “I think I may have just made a huge mistake.”


Draco rolled his eyes. “Thank Merlin he’s finally seen the light.”

---

Once Michael had realized that he completely misunderstood what he saw between Hermione and Draco on that unfortunate Tuesday, he had apologized profusely and willingly offered to go around all the tables in the Great Hall the next morning to clarify everything with the students of Hogwarts. And so here he was.


“Therefore, it was all a mistake for I had misinterpreted the situation and I apologize for spreading such rumors in the first place,” Michael finished saying at the Gryffindor table while the students were having breakfast.


“So you were lying then?” Seamus asked, eyeing Michael inquiringly.


“Well, no, not exactly…” he started, but when he saw Draco and Hermione cast him a warning glance, he hastily said, “Yes, I suppose you could say I was. Somewhat.”


“I never believed the rumors one bit,” Neville proclaimed. “I knew our Hermione would never do something like that.”


“Thank you, Neville,” Hermione beamed.


“The rumors are false?!” Lavender shrieked when Michael’s words finally sunk in. She had a look on her face that clearly read, ‘You mean I wasted my time spreading rumors that were false?’


Michael stared at his girlfriend. “Yes, Lavender.”


Hermione could not help but smirk when she saw the disgruntled expressions on Lavender and Parvati’s faces.


“Careful now, Granger,” Draco said, with a smirk of his own in place. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that smirk is very Malfoy-like.”


To his surprise, Hermione broke into a grin. “I can’t help it, Malfoy. The looks on their faces are priceless.”


Parvati, who had apparently heard Hermione, threw her a dirty look.


“It’s not very often you get that look out of them,” Ginny added puckishly. “You have to enjoy it while to lasts.”


“It’s definitely something,” Harry agreed, smiling.


“I'm just glad that this matter’s settled,” Ron said while poking at his scrambled eggs.


“Hey Corner!” Draco called out. “Now all you have to do is tell the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Slytherins the same thing. Make sure you clarify everything. ”


Michael nodded and ambled off to Hufflepuff table.


“Not everyone’s going to believe him, you know,” Ginny remarked as she watched Michael recite loudly to the Hufflepuffs the same speech he had delivered to the Gryffindors.


“That may be true,” Hermione said knowingly. “But at least he’s trying. And anyways, considering how fast people here in Hogwarts trust stories, I’d estimate that we have a larger population of students believing rather than not.”


Harry sighed. “Let’s just hope people aren’t given a reason to gossip about you two anytime soon.”


Ron pointed his fork at Draco. “That’s means that you have to make sure that all your buttons are sewn on snugly and that you always have your wand with you.”


Draco glowered at Ron as Ginny, Harry and Hermione burst into laughter. “Shut up, Weasley.”

---

By breakfast the next day, it seemed that the staring and whispering Draco and Hermione had been subjected to the past couple of days had died down. Michael had obviously done what he had promised to do and Hermione could not have been more grateful. There were the disbelievers, and ignorance was the only solution to people like that.


“Did you force Corner to say all those things to save your arse, Draco?” Blaise asked somewhat snidely while Draco helped himself to a slice of toast. “Or did he apologize voluntarily?”


“Draco did not have to force anyone. It was a misunderstanding, Zabini,” Pansy snapped. Blaise was evidently getting on her nerves. “So shut up and leave Draco alone.”


Blaise grunted in response, not looking particularly convinced.


“Draco, do you know that the first Hogsmeade trip of this term is this Saturday?” Pansy cooed, changing the subject while stroking his arm lightly.


Hermione looked up from her breakfast with a start. She had completely forgotten about the Hogsmeade trip scheduled for the upcoming weekend.


During the beginning of the school year, Professor McGonagall had handed the Head Boy and Girl a roster highlighting the major events of the school year, including all Hogsmeade outings. Hermione had looked at the roster so many times that she had practically memorized it. It surprised her that she had forgotten about this particular trip.


“Yes, Pansy, I know about that,” Draco replied casually. “What about it?”


Pansy shot Hermione a sharp look. “Then I suppose you will be joining us?” she asked, her eyes never leaving Hermione.


“Of course I will, “ Draco answered with a shrug. “You, me, Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, Millicent, the usual. Who else do you expect me to join?”


“Excuse me,” Hermione said loudly to make her presence known, “you can’t just make that decision without consulting me first, Malfoy.”


“I already made the decision, Granger,” Draco drawled. “Without your consultation.”


“That’s not very fair, is it?” Hermione huffed. “I'm not going with you and your friends.” She cast Pansy a resentful look.


“You don’t have much of a choice,” Draco said, his tone suggesting that he did not want to discuss the matter further.


Hermione glared at him. “I do actually. And I have decided that I'm going with my friends. We’ll see what you do about that,” she challenged, feeling rather bold despite being surrounded by sneering Slytherins.


She had had enough of Draco’s arrogance. When it seemed that he was showing the most remote hint of niceness, he reverted to being a jerk. He switched moods as and when he liked.


Draco’s eyes widened slightly. “We will see then,” he scorned, “we will see.”

---

For the second time since being stuck to Hermione, Draco felt invisible to her and her friends. They were talking over lunch and acting like Draco was non-existent. He assumed it was because he had angered Hermione over breakfast. He did not understand why he did it, but annoying her had become his pastime since they became stuck to each other. Secretly, he greatly enjoyed it, seeing her get all fussed up and uptight. The way her brows would knit together in irritation, the way her eyes narrowed accusingly and the way her mouth unconsciously would form a tiny pout.


“So we will be going to Hogsmeade together, won’t we?” Hermione asked after she recapped what Draco had said to Pansy at the Slytherin table.


“That’s needless to say, ‘Mione,” Ron said, shooting daggers in Draco’s direction. “We’ll most definitely be going to together. We always do that. It’s nothing new.”


“We’ll meet you at the Entrance Hall before we leave,” Harry said succinctly.


Draco scowled. “Well I don’t bloody care if you're going to have a little Dream Team get-together,” he said in a dark voice, “but I'm not going to spend my day at Hogsmeade with the Potter Club.”


“Did you hear that Ron? It had been our lifelong dream to spend a day at Hogsmeade with ferret boy and now he says he doesn’t want to spend time with us,” Harry said sarcastically. “Our dream has been shattered. I feel terrible. Bloody waste, isn’t it?”


“Awfully sad,” Ron replied in a tone similar to Harry’s as Hermione and Ginny giggled. “Was really looking forward to it.”


Draco, glowering, made an obscene hand gesture at Harry and Ron, at which Hermione gave an indignant sniff. “I will be spending the day with my friends,” he growled, “whether you like it or not.”


Ginny, who was sitting directly across Draco, pointed her fork threateningly in his direction without even looking at him. “And make sure no one stops you from meeting us, Hermione. Otherwise, this fork could go places no one has even dared imagine,” she said with an innocent smile.


Ron shuddered slightly and gulped. “She can get awfully frightening at times,” he whispered to Harry. “Like a warped cross between mom and Fred and George.”


Hermione sighed inwardly. From the looks of it, this week was going to be as long as the previous.

---

The corridors of Hogwarts were quiet after lunch, as Professor McGonagall walked along them, peeking into classroom filled students having lessons with their various teachers. She was suppose to be having a free period right now, and had planned to spend it checking Transfiguration essays of her fourth year students.


However, Dumbledore seemed to have other plans for her. He had called her up to his office moments ago, saying that he had something urgent to discuss. I wonder what he has on his mind, she thought as she ran her hand down her robes to smoothen any wrinkles.


As Professor McGonagall rounded as corner, she heard the distinct voices of two students from somewhere further in front of her, apparently quarrelling. She managed to catch bits of their bickering.


“…hurry up… you take forever…”


“…patience, woman…we’ll get there…”


Professor McGonagall approached the source of the bickering and found, not surprisingly, Draco and Hermione walking towards her along the corridor.


“Malfoy, you take such a long time in the bathroom!” Hermione was complaining. “You're more vain than half the girls I know!”


Draco snorted. “Well, I can’t say I'm surprised considering the girls you hang out with.”


“What are you implying?” Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes.


“Not arguing, I hope?” Professor McGonagall spoke loudly before Draco had time to reply. She saw that both students appeared startled by her presence, not expecting to see her walking along the hallways at this time of the day.


“Not at all, Professor,” Draco replied, pasting a nonchalant smile on his face. “We were merely…talking.”


“Yes Professor,” Hermione agreed with a small nod, “simply discussing certain issues.”


Professor McGonagall was pretty sure that they did not sound like they were having a discussion at all. Nevertheless, she was not in the mood to pursue the matter further. “Well then, better hurry on up to class,” she told them and watched them scurry off to their classroom.


Amusing was the word that popped into Professor McGonagall’s mind whenever she saw those two tied together with the Love-Knot. Annoying (mainly the bickering), yet somehow amusing.


She had found herself speculating who had sent it to them and with what purpose. She decided whoever sent it was either very smart or very stupid.


Smart, because it may prove to be the only way to get Draco and Hermione to be civil to each other.


Stupid, because it could easily backfire and they might end up hating each other even more.


Nevertheless, Professor McGonagall still found the situation amusing. She wondered if they would ever get the Love-Knot off, if they would ever fulfill its purpose.


With all these thoughts in her head, the Transfiguration Professor gave the ugly stone gargoyle the password it required and made her way up the spiraling staircase to the Headmaster’s office. She knocked softly and waited for a reply.


“Come in.”


Entering, she was greeted by the sight of a smiling Dumbledore.


“Ah, I was expecting you for a while,” he said, motioning at the chair in front of him. “Have a seat, Minerva.”


Taking a seat as told, Professor McGonagall looked at Dumbledore, wearing a serious expression on her face. “What seems to be the matter, Albus? You said it was urgent.”


“Yes, quite urgent,” Dumbledore said, but there was no worry etched on his lined face, nor was there any solemnity in his appearance. In fact, there was a twinkle in his eyes that she recognized all too well, having work with him for so long. “Sherbet Lemon?” He offered his colleague the yellow muggle candy.


“No, thank you,” she declined with a polite shake of the head. She observed him curiously. “What do you have on your mind, Albus?”


Dumbledore placed the yellow sweet on his tongue, savoring the tangy flavor for a while. “I want to implement a new rule, Minerva,” he said, locking his long fingers together on his desk. “Urgently.”


Professor McGonagall frowned and she eyed Dumbledore questioningly. “A new rule?” she repeated. “That’s the urgent matter? Why we haven’t had a new rule since…” She paused to jog her memory. “Since we had Dolores Umbridge in this school.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the mention of that name.


“Oh yes, dear old Dolores,” Dumbledore chuckled. “Probably one of the most unusual personalities I’ll ever meet.”


“She always reminded me of a rather grim looking toad,” Professor McGonagall remarked, trying to keep the dislike out of her voice, but failing miserably.


Dumbledore grinned at Professor McGonagall. “You never quite liked her.”


“No one liked her, Albus,” Professor McGonagall stated matter-of-factly. “Now, what about this new rule?”


A small smile played on the older Professor’s lips. His eyes caught the afternoon sunlight and Professor McGonagall was certain that she caught mirth sparkling in them. “The new rule is regarding Perfects, so I thought it was best that I discussed with you first, since you're the teacher-in-charge.”


He halted to shift his Sherbet Lemon around his mouth, while Professor McGonagall looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.


“I propose,” he went on, “that the Head Boy and Girl be given the duty to patrol Hogsmeade whilst the other students spend their day there.”


Dumbledore had declared this simply, as though it was something the school should have thought of ages ago.


Professor McGonagall’s jaw dropped slightly and her eyes widened in their sockets. She was unable to hide her surprise. She opened and closed her mouth a number of times, like a fish out of water, but no words came out.


“Don’t you think it’s a good idea?” Dumbledore asked when he saw that his co-worker seemed to have lost the ability to speak.


Professor McGonagall closed her mouth. “But why would we need such a rule?” she asked, slowly recovering from her shock. “You did not see the need to execute such a plan even when we were at war.”


“Yes, that’s true, but it’s for that precise reason that I've decided to put into action such a rule,” Dumbledore explained.


“I don’t understand.”


“You see Minerva,” Dumbledore said lightly, “I think we have to take into consideration the safety of our students, regardless of whether there is a war going on or not. We should not compromise the security of the children based on the circumstance of the present period. Am I wrong in thinking this?”


“No, not at all,” Professor McGonagall agreed. “But a Hogsmeade trip is usually meant for the students to enjoy themselves. Would it not be unfair to make the Heads do duties while they ought to be having fun with their friends?”


“I have been taking that into consideration as well,” Dumbledore told her, standing up from his seat. He started pacing around his office, coming to a halt in front of Fawkes. “I gather that they may feel that it’s unfair to impose this rule on them, but they should realize that taking up posts as Head Boy and Girl comes with a certain amount of responsibility. So when you explain to them the rationale behind my implementation of this rule, I sincerely hope they understand and comply with it.”


Professor McGonagall stared at him, certain that she saw a small smile playing on his face. “You have thought through this thoroughly?”


“Yes I have,” he replied, a tone of conviction in his voice. “I decided that we could use our current Head Boy and Girl only as trial for this new rule. We’ll see how it works out. If it turns out well, I’ll come to a final verdict about this new rule. Does it sound all right to you?”


Professor McGonagall nodded slowly. “I suppose it does.”


“Very well then,” Dumbledore said, caressing Fawkes gently on his head. “I’ll give you the task of informing them about this.”


“Yes, I’ll inform them.” Professor McGonagall pursued her lips together to form a thin line. “Albus, are you sure you don’t have an ulterior motive for doing this?”


The Headmaster broke into a mysterious grin. “Minerva, I merely believe that good consequences can result from bad beginnings. Great love can spring from great hate, you know.”

---

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! A small note for this chapter. I just want to say that I decided it’d be best if I ended the whole ‘Boys’ Bathroom’ issue by making Corner clarify the rumors with everyone. This is because I don’t want to leave too many loose ends as the plot progresses. Plus, Draco and Hermione will be subjected to loads of other things, so I wanted to be merciful and resolve this one problem for them. =P

Chapter 20- The New Rule


Tension between Draco and Hermione was thick throughout Monday and remained so till Tuesday. Hermione had even taken to wearing her mood ring for very vindictive reasons�” Jinx shouted comments like, “Blondie, Hermione’s still mad at you!” and “Blond Boy, you are annoying (technically, that was not stating Hermione’s feelings, but Jinx didn’t quite care)!” at regular intervals to reflect her owner’s obvious mood. The only time the mood ring ever kept quiet was in lessons, during which she would make snide remarks silently for only Draco to hear. The sole reason keeping Draco from grabbing Jinx and throwing her across the school grounds was the thought of Quidditch practice at the end of the day.


Usually practice was held on Thursdays, but it had been shifted to today instead because one of the Slytherin players had landed themselves in detention for the remainder of the school week (not very surprising, is it?).


It seemed that the sky was the only thing that had mercy on Draco that Tuesday evening. It was relatively clearer as compared to the past few days. Even the weather was not as cold, making it quite ideal for Quidditch practice.


“Goyle, try hitting the Bludger away from your own players, not towards them!” Draco shouted from the Slytherin stands. “What the matter with you?!”


“Sorry Draco!” Goyle apologized and, in panic, sent a Bludger hurtling towards Crabbe, who missed it by an inch.


Draco rolled his eyes. How he made friends with such idiots was beyond him. “Nott, I need you to try out the new formation with the other chasers!” he hollered, ignoring Goyle.


“Bloody hell blonde boy, quit shouting like a deranged banshee!” Jinx exclaimed angrily from Hermione’s finger. “I live in a very fragile environment and I don’t want it cracking from your voice!”


Draco looked at little ring fiercely and muttered something under his breath.


“You’re going to give yourself a sore throat if you keep yelling like that,” Hermione spoke from beside Draco, Potions’ textbook in hand.


“I thought you weren’t talking to him, Hermione?” Jinx questioned inquisitively.


“Yeah, I thought you weren’t talking to me, Granger?” Draco snapped, casting her an angry look. “And anyways, what is it to you?”


“I can’t concentrate with you yelling continuously,” Hermione retorted.


“How sad for you then,” Draco sneered.


Hermione sighed. She was use to this kind of behavior by now, especially since Monday. He was still obstinate on going with his friends to Hogsmeade and she with hers.


“There, there Hermione,” Jinx consoled soothingly, reading her owner’s feelings in a jiffy. “I know Blondie boy can be a real pain-in-the-rear-end at times.”


Draco scowled.


“Where’s your wand?” Hermione asked despite her conscious telling her not to bother.


Draco merely glared at her, making no action to produce it for her. Instead, he turned his attention back to his players. “Baddock, are your hands made of butter?! Grip that Quaffle properly!”


Not knowing what overcame her at that instance, Hermione stuck her hand into Draco’s robe pocket to look for his wand.


“Oooo,” Jinx mused out loud, “definitely no feelings of naughtiness there.”


The sudden sensation of a hand in his pocket made Draco gasp in surprise. A tickle ran up his spine. “What the bloody�””


“There,” Hermione said, removing his wand from his pocket within moments. “Got what I was looking for.”


“You can just stick your hand in my�””


“Oh, I think she just did,” Jinx cut in with a cheeky smile before Draco could complete his sentence.


She pointed the wand at Draco’s throat and said, “Sonorus!” Then she handed the wand back to him. “Now, you won’t need to shout and strain your voice.”


“What did you do?” Draco said and realized, with a start, that his voice echoed through the stadium, as though he had spoken through a muggle microphone.


Jinx raised an eyebrow. “Not very bright, is he?”


The Slytherin Quidditch members turned to stare at him. Slowly, Draco remembered that the spell Hermione placed on him throat was used to amplify one’s voice.


He did not say anything to her further and returned to instructing his players on what to do. Once he was satisfied with their mode of play, he sat down next to Hermione, but never took his eyes off them.


Hermione examined the Slytherin beside her, watching him as scrutinized each and every one of his players, picking out their flaws, analyzing their moves. His blond eyebrows were creased in concentration and his chin rested in the gap between his thumb and index finger as he slouched forward.


“Hmmmm…” Jinx whispered thoughtfully to herself, turning a strange greenish-pale pink color. “What is this that I detect in Hermione? Strange, but I sense…it’s barely there…the smallest possible bit…” Then she turned back to sea-green color of irritation. “And now it’s gone.” She frowned. “No point telling her about that then.”


“Are you still adamant about going with your friends to Hogsmeade?” Hermione asked, tearing her eyes away from Draco and looking down at her textbook.


“Are you?” Draco shot back, jumping slightly when his voice reverberated throughout the stands. He quickly pointed his wand at his throat and said, “Quietus!”, so that his voice would go back to normal volume. “Are you?” he repeated.


Hermione stuck her chin out defiantly. “Yes, I am.”


“Then so am I.”


Sighing heavily, Hermione continued reading her textbook. She knew it was useless arguing with Draco. Experienced had taught her so. And anyways, she was not one for giving up either.


“A word of advice, dearie,” Jinx piped. “There’s not point wasting your energy getting annoyed at a creature from the opposite gender. They’re born to exasperate. Believe me, I'm speaking from experience.”


Draco stared at Jinx in disbelief. Speaking from experience? What kind of a mood ring was this anyway??


“Hey Hermione!” a voice called out from behind her, causing her to start. She (and Draco) turned around to see Neville bounding down the Slytherin bleachers towards them.


“Hello Neville,” Hermione said warmly as he took a seat beside her, seemingly breathless. “What are you doing here?”


“Yeah Longbottom, what the bloody hell are you doing here? Spying on us?” Draco asked accusingly. “Are the Gryffindors that desperate?”


Neville ignored Draco, turning his attention to Hermione instead. “Professor McGonagall wants to see the both of you in her office right now,” he said in between breaths.


“Right now?” Hermione repeated, frowning. “Did she tell you what for?”


Neville shrugged. “No, she didn’t. She just told me to come get you.”


“Well, thank you then, Neville.” Hermione said with a smile.


“No problem, Hermione,” Neville returned her smile. “I better get going.”


“Nott!” Draco bellowed, nearly making Neville tumble as he climbed up the stairs. “I have to go see McGonagall! Take over, will you?”


When he saw Nott nod, he stood up and waited for Hermione to the same.


“What do you reckon she wants?” Hermione wondered out loud, slinging her schoolbag over her shoulder.


“I dunno,” Draco replied earnestly. “I just hope it’s not another lecture to get us to co-operate.”


Hermione remembered running into Professor McGonagall on Monday, when she and Draco weren’t exactly having one of their best moments. Who was she kidding? She and Draco never had good moments. Maybe decent moments, but good was too strong a word.


Jinx, who had been quiet for a rather long time by her standard, turned a bluish-grey color on Hermione’s finger. “You're feeling curious!” she announced in a singsong voice as they entered the Entrance Hall.


“Is it necessary to declare every single emotion that she goes through?” Draco asked disdainfully as he walked through the corridors with Hermione.


“Well, I'm a mood ring, knucklehead,” Jinx scoffed. “I announce people’s moods. It’s part of my job description.”


“I know that,” Draco retorted gruffly. “But do you have to be so loud about it? You just have to tell her how she’s feeling, not the entire world.”


“Does it annoy you?” Jinx asked.


“Hell yes!”


Within her black opal, the white-faced Jinx gave satisfied smirk. “Good then,” she said and Draco decided that it would be best if he stopped talking to the mood ring.


Upon reaching the Deputy Headmistress’s office, Hermione knocked before entering together with Draco.


“Good evening, Professor,” the Head Girl greeted politely, “you wanted to see us?”


“Yes, yes, I did,” Professor McGonagall said, looking up from her paperwork. “Take a seat Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy.”


They did as told and Hermione heard Jinx whisper, “Don’t be so worried, Hermione. You're getting worked up for no reason.”


Hastily, Hermione removed the ring from her finger and dropped it into her pocket. She did not want Jinx distracting her from her meeting with Professor McGonagall, who seemed to be in a very serious mood.


“I called the two of you here to discuss something rather important,” Professor McGonagall said gravely. “It’s about the Hogsmeade trip this weekend.”


For a fleeting moment, Draco thought the Transfiguration Professor was going to force him to go to Hogsmeade with Hermione and her friends. No, that’s not possible. How would she know that we have been arguing about the trip?


“Professor Dumbledore has decided to implement a new rule,” Professor McGonagall continued as she slowly gathered her papers and shuffled them together.


Draco eyed the Professor with mild curiosity. A new rule had not been implemented in Hogwarts since…since Professor Umbridge was a teacher in the school. Ah, what fond memories. The Inquisitional Squad, docking points from Gryffindor for absolutely no reason… It was happy days when she was around.


“What new rule, Professor?” Hermione queried, voicing Draco’s curiosity. And what does it have to do with the Hogsmeade trip? she wondered to herself.


Professor McGonagall did not answer immediately. She shuffled her papers around again and arranged a few items on his desk, as though purposely trying to buy some time. To Draco, it seemed like she rather not talk about this new rule.


“Professor Dumbledore has decided that starting from this year, the Head Boy and Girl will have to patrol Hogsmeade,” she finally said in a rush, “while the other students spend their day there.”


Silence filled the room for what seemed like eternity, when it was broken by Draco, who said, “You're joking?”

“No, I'm afraid I'm not joking, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall said, giving him a sharp look. “I'm serious, very serious indeed.”


“Wait a moment, let me try to think this through,” Draco said, gripping the sides of his chair tightly, as if fearful that this very room was an illusion or a trick. “Not only am I stuck with Granger till the cows come home, but now I can’t even spend my Hogsmeade trips with my own friends?!”


“Mr. Malfoy, I will have to ask you to calm down,” Professor McGonagall warned with a stern glare.


“Actually, Professor, I quite agree with Malfoy,” Hermione piped in suddenly.


“You do?” both Draco and Professor McGonagall said in unison, the surprise in their voice not concealed at all.


“Yes, I do,” she confirmed. “We were looking forward to spending the day with our friends.”


“How exactly do you propose to do that in your current situation, Miss Granger?” Professor McGonagall asked, briefly pointing at the Love-Knot.


“We were going to figure that out,” Hermione said without the slightest hint of hesitation. “And we’ve had already asked our respective groups of friends. It’s not very fair to make us patrol, isn’t it?”


Professor McGonagall was render speechless momentarily, but she quickly found her voice. “I understand your feelings about this issue. However, you have to realize that as Head Boy and Girl, you have certain duties and responsibilities to the school. I'm certain that you have regards for the school rules, be it new or old,” She paused and gave Hermione a meaningful look, “don’t you?”


And Draco knew that statement more or less did it for Hermione. There would be no more argument on her part. Professor McGonagall was certainly well-aware of her Head Girl’s weakness. Hook, line and sinker.

---

“I don’t understand why you had to agree!” Draco said, infuriated by the whole patrolling Hogsmeade business. He and Hermione had headed straight for the Heads’ common room after the meeting with Professor McGonagall. Draco was no longer in the mood for watching the Slytherin Quidditch practice.


Hermione dumped her schoolbag on one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. “We didn’t have much of a choice, Malfoy!” she snapped, plopping herself on the same seat as her bag. “Did it sound like Professor McGonagall was letting her choose whether or not we wanted to patrol?”


Draco marched over to the opposite chair and sat down irritably. “If you weren’t such a goody-two-shoe, I think we had a chance of refusing point blank.”


Hermione raised an eyebrow at Draco. “So what are you suggesting? That we could have started some sort of strike?” she asked, staring at the Head Boy questioningly. “Didn’t you hear what she said? We have responsibilities and we need to have regards for the rules and�””


Draco stared at the girl in front of him as though she had a hand growing out of her head. “It was a load of rubbish, Granger!” he cried, his gray eyes bulging. “Didn’t you see the look on her face when she was feeding you that responsibility and duties nonsense? She knew that there was no way you could refuse after she said all that! And you fell for it!”


“Malfoy, Professor McGonagall would not do that!” Hermione practically yelled, coming to her favorite teacher’s defense at once.


Draco rolled his eyes. “She would and she has! She just did it with you!”


“Rubbish.”


“So much for wishing that the two of you would not quarrel tonight,” Salazar Slytherin’s snub voice floated from the wall above the fireplace. “Wishful thinking, you might say.”


“What seems the problem this time?” Godric Gryffindor asked, apparently not as annoyed as his Slytherin counterpart.


Hermione explained to him the new rule that was to come into effect the coming weekend. Once she was done, she was surprised to see that the two founders were not all that surprised.


“That’s it? That was what all the whining was about?” Salazar Slytherin yawned, looking even more bored than usual (if that’s possible). “As it is, the both of you are stuck to each other. Does it make a big difference that you patrol Hogsmeade together?”


Draco frowned. “But we were planning to go with our friends�””


“Your friends?” Salazar Slytherin let out a dry laugh. “The both of you are always at each other’s throat, I cannot imagine what will happen if you go out together with your different little groups of friends.”


“If you want my honest opinion, I daresay it’s a blessing in disguise!” Godric Gryffindor chipped in.


This response from Slytherin and Gryffindor left the Heads vaguely taken aback. No big difference? Blessing in disguise? Not the choice of words Hermione and Draco had in mind.


“So I think you two should stop wallowing in self-pity,” Salazar Slytherin drawled, “and let us sleep.”


The two students stared at the portraits.


“Go on then,” Godric Gryffindor urged, “off to bed.”


Too stunned to do or say anything else to Gryffindor and Slytherin, Draco and Hermione did as told and headed up to Hermione’s dorm (they were due to sleep in her room tonight).


“Do you reckon Dumbledore has a purpose behind this?” Godric Gryffindor asked out loud once the two Heads were out of earshot. “Very curious of him to implement a rule like that on such short notice.”


Salazar Slytherin looked thoughtful. “I'm certain that Dumbledore has something up his sleeve,” he replied. “That man is one of the smartest Headmasters this school has ever had. Always has some purpose or another.”

---

Pansy did not take the news as well as Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin did. In fact, by the end of Draco’s explanation of the new rule during breakfast the next morning, she looked ready to bite someone’s head off, presumably Dumbledore’s. Hermione could have sworn that she saw Crabbe cowering beside Goyle as Pansy exploded into a string of obscenities that would have given Professor McGonagall a heart attack.


Reactions were no better with Harry, Ron and Ginny. In fact, after Hermione had told them about the rule at lunch, Ron launched into a series of very flowery language that sounded uncannily like Pansy’s, so much so that Hermione exclaimed, “Ronald Weasley! What would your mother think if she heard you saying that?!”


“Sorry,” Ron mumbled a quick apology, face still red with anger.


“I don’t understand,” Harry said, frowning. “What a strange new rule to implement. And so suddenly.”


“So what are you going to do during the trip then, Hermione?” Ginny asked. Her face was slightly red with anger too, but not as bad as Ron’s.


“Well, Malfoy and I will leave at the same time as the rest of the school, but we’ll only be given an hour’s worth of time to ourselves, after which we will have to patrol Hogsmeade and look out for students who are misbehaving or breaking any rules,” Hermione explained, recalling what Professor McGonagall told them after her little speech on “duties”, “responsibilities” and “regards for rules”.


Ron swore under his breath. “It’s a conspiracy, I tell you,” he growled. “Maybe Lucius Malfoy somehow managed to persuade Dumbledore to allow the two of you some ‘alone time’ during the Hogsmeade trip.”


Draco threw Ron a dirty looked, but chose to remain quiet because what Hermione said next disproved Ron’s conspiracy theory.


“That’s not possible, Ron,” she said contemplatively. “Honestly, does Dumbledore strike you as the sort of person to be so easily swayed by into a decision like that?”


Harry nodded. “She’s right, Ron,” he agreed. “Dumbledore isn’t so easily influenced by anyone.”


“Maybe Lucius Malfoy placed a spell on him,” Ron continued stubbornly.


“Come off it, Weasley,” Draco snorted with a roll of his eyes, causing Ron to sulk even more.


“Well then can’t you spend your alone time with us?” Ginny questioned, a hint of hopefulness tugging at her voice.


Hermione smiled sadly. “I don’t think there’ll be enough time. We only have an hour and I have to get stationery and other school supplies.”


Harry sighed and a scowl formed on his face. “There goes our plan for the weekend.”


“My plans are down the drain as well, you know,” Draco pointed out, looking utterly miserable.


“I still think Lucius Malfoy has a hand in this somehow,” Ron murmured to himself sullenly.


How wrong he was.

---

Author's Note: This one will be quick guys. I just want to thank EJAUS, who gave me a wonderful idea that helped me link and make sense of a whole series of ideas that I already had with in mind. (You know what I mean, EJAUS). Thank you so much!

Chapter 21- Patrolling Hogsmeade


Saturday came too fast for Draco and Hermione’s liking. The remaining of the school week seemed to have whizzed past in a blink of an eye. It was as though Time decided to bypass the weekdays and jump straight to the weekend in order to torture the two Heads as soon as it possibly could.


The dreaded Hogsmeade trip was here. It was time to be responsible and conscientious (and all that jazz). It was time to be good Heads and patrol Hogsmeade. Joy.


“I still cannot believe that I'm spending my day at Hogameade with you!” Draco groaned at breakfast.


Hermione heaved a sigh. “I share the same sentiments.”


“Poor Draco,” Pansy said in a baby voice. “With the company you’ll be having, you're going to be so bored.”


“Well at least today’s company is going to be more intellectual than usual,” Hermione mimicked in Pansy’s baby voice. Then her eyes widened when she realized what she had done. Since when did Hermione go around mimicking people? And of all people Pansy Parkinson?


To her surprise, she heard Draco chuckle. A rather stifled, muffled chuckle that he covered up as a cough, but nevertheless, it was a chuckle. She was sure of it. She had heard it and apparently she was the only one.


Pansy shot Hermione a piercing look. “What is that suppose to mean?” she demanded.


“I should have known you weren’t smart enough to figure out what that meant,” Hermione mumbled inaudibly. Or at least she thought she was inaudible until there was that chuckle covered up as a cough from Draco again. He had heard her quiet comment it seemed.


“Draco, are you quite all right?” Pansy cooed, completely forgetting that Hermione had (technically) not answered yet and turning her attention to Draco’s coughing fit.


Draco took a gulp of his fruit juice. “Yes, I'm fine,” he replied, staring at Hermione from the corner of his eye. “Absolutely fine.”


Breakfast ended sooner than expected and it was time to assemble at the Entrance Hall so that Filch could take attendance. Draco and Hermione, however, were due to report directly to Professor McGonagall.


Hermione spotted her friends as the students gathered around the Entrance Hall, waiting. “Malfoy, can you give me a moment? I want to go over and talk to Harry.”


“If I say no, will it make any difference?” Draco asked, raising a single blonde brow.


Hermione shook her head. “No, it wouldn't. But it’d be nice if you say yes for a change.”


Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask for too much, Granger,” he said. “Just go on and get it over with.”


A small smile appeared on Hermione’s lips and she made her way to the familiar group a few paces in front of her.


“Hey Hermione!” Ron greeted happily when he saw her. “Decided to break the new rule to join us?”


“You wish, Weasley,” Draco sneered before Hermione could to reply.


“I wasn’t talking to you, Malfoy,” Ron snapped back, a cold look descending upon his features.


“Actually, I just wanted to say hello to all of you,” Hermione interjected before Draco had a chance to retort and a full blown fist fight broke out. “Hope you have a great trip to Hogsmeade today.”


Ginny smiled ruefully. “It won’t be the same without you, ‘Mione.”


“Yeah, Hermione, it won’t be the same without you around,” Harry added with a sigh.


It was Hermione’s turn to give a rueful smile. “I wish I could join you, but I really can’t.”


“Sure you can!” Ron insisted. “Forget about the rule and join us. It’s not like McGonagall's going to find out if you don’t patrol.”


Hermione narrowed her eyes at her freckled friend. “You know I can’t and won’t do that, Ron.”


“Oh come on, Hermione, it’s not like you haven’t done it before…”


“Ron, you�””


“I hate to cut this sweet, little reunion short, but we have to go Granger,” Malfoy said from beside Hermione. “McGonagall’s already there, waiting for us.”


Quickly bidding her friends goodbye, Hermione allowed Draco to haul her off to the direction where Professor McGonagall was standing.


“Ah, there you are,” she said when she saw them approaching. “I was wondering what was keeping you.”


“Sorry, Professor,” Hermione apologized. “I was a little caught up with something.”


Professor McGonagall dismissed the apology with a wave of her hand. “Not a problem at all, Miss Granger,” she said. “I just want to know if you remembered what I went through with you on Tuesday. You are certain about your duties and tasks I hope?”


Hermione gave a firm nod of her head. “Yes, Professor,” she confirmed, “we are certain.”


“Good,” Professor McGonagall gave the two students a tight smile. “Remember to follow the route you have been instructed to patrol,” she reminded. “If you encountered any sort of problem, send the signal up in the sky using your wand. I’ll be able to see it from the school grounds and I’ll come to your aid immediately.” She carefully surveyed the two students in front of her. “I trust that you’ll do a fine job.”


On that note, their day in Hogsmeade began.

---

One hour. One precious hour to spend before the actual patrolling began. Sixty precious minutes. Not a second to waste.


It was unfortunate that these sixty minutes were to be spent in each other’s company as was the rest of the day.


The first stop was Scrivenshaft’s Quill shop. It was a place that both Draco and Hermione had agreed to go to. Draco needed a new quill for himself (to add to his already impressive collection of ten) and Hermione wanted to get a new one for Ron (who had developed a habit of chewing the back of his quill to the extent that, within a couple of months, it would get severely frayed).


Next stop, Honeydukes. Again (and rather surprisingly), it was a unanimous consensus from Draco and Hermione to enter the sweet shop. Draco wanted to get himself a block of chocolate, while Hermione required sugar quills (for Ron, so that he had an alternative to chew on, as opposed to proper quills).


They exited Honeydukes and realized that the hour they had to themselves was almost over. Twenty minutes left. Darn.


“Is there anything else you need to purchase?” Hermione inquired, counting how much money she had left in her money pouch.


Draco shrugged. “I don’t think so,” he replied. “And even if I did need to get something else, it’s not as if we have enough time,” he added sourly.


“Good point,” Hermione agreed, tucking her money pouch into her the little bag she brought along. “How about we get a Butterbeer each from The Three Broomsticks and start patrolling?”


The word ‘patrolling’ caused a groan to escape Draco’s lips.


Hermione arched her eyebrow. “Look, it’s not like we have much of a choice now, do we?”


“Oh all right,” Draco said, his voice edged with bitterness. “Three Broomsticks, then we’ll start the bloody patrol.”


The familiar warmth and smells of The Three Broomsticks shrouded Hermione like a cozy blanket on this cold day. She had always loved this place; the sights, the sounds, the smells. She, Harry, Ron and occasionally Ginny (when she was not busy with a boyfriend) spent most of their Hogsmeade trips here. How she wished that today would be the same.


“Bloody crowded,” Draco remarked from beside her, instantly reminding Hermione that today was definitely not going to be the same. “Let’s just get the Butterbeer and get out of here.”


Two hot Butterbeers were hurriedly ordered from the hassled Madam Rosmerta, who served them as fast as she could before tending to other Hogwart’s students.


Butterbeers in hand, the two Heads made their way out to the cold January air. And, quite unfortunately in Hermione’s opinion, they bumped into Pansy. Or rather, Pansy bumped into them.


“Draco!” she squealed happily. “What are you doing here?”


Hermione rolled her eyes. A sarcastic comment was at the tip of her tongue, but she thought it would be best if he kept silent.


“Just getting Butterbeers before we start our rounds,” Draco replied, showing Pansy the bottle in his hand.


Pansy shrieked in delight at the sight if the Butterbeer. “Oh, I do feel like getting one of those right now!”


“Well, I don’t know if you're aware of this, but the shop that’s right in front you at this very moment happens to sell these,” Hermione told Pansy, the sarcasm clear in her voice. She could not help it. Pansy always seemed to magically transform into this daft, giggly girl in the presence of Draco and it got on Hermione’s nerves like nothing else did.


“Sod off,” Pansy snapped, throwing daggers in her direction. Then she averted her gaze back to Draco. “Can I come with you on your rounds, Draco?” Her voice was about an octave higher and it was dipped with sugary (and nauseating) sweetness.


“I don’t think so, Pansy,” Draco answered flatly. “McGonagall might have fits if you do.”


“Well let her then,” Pansy chuckled.


Draco shook his head. “I can’t. I really can’t.”


“Aw, that’s such a waste,” Pansy pouted. “I’ll miss you, Draco.” She leaned forward to plant (a considerably long, Hermione thought) kiss on Draco’s lips. “I’ll see you later in school then.”


With that, she pranced her way into The Three Broomsticks as Hermione led Draco to the path where their patrolling officially started.


“So what’s the deal with you and Parkinson?” Hermione asked abruptly as she popped open her bottle of Butterbeer.


Draco, who was taking a sip from his own bottle, looked taken aback. “What do you mean?” he spluttered, spilling some Butterbeer on the front of his black robes.


Hermione felt her cheeks grow a little hot. She did not know what had motivated her to ask Draco that question. The sentence simply stumbled out of her mouth before she could control herself. Yet, she repeated it again. “I mean, what is this between the two of you? Is she your girlfriend?”


Draco stared at Hermione, an amused smile gracing his chiseled features. “What is it to you, Granger?”


Hermione caught the look on Draco’s face and narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t give me that look,” she said. “I was just wondering because she seems to always be all over you.”


Draco sniggered. “That’s just in Pansy’s nature. She’s been all over me ever since I’ve known her,” he explained. “I guess I don’t blame her; I do have that effect on women,” he added cockily.


Hermione rolled her eyes and let out a laugh of disbelieve.


“She’s not my girlfriend,” Draco continued, ignoring the roll of Hermione’s eyes. “We dated. On-and-off. And that’s when I figured that Pansy isn’t the girlfriend type. She’s good for snogging and a couple of other things though.” He smirked, that typical smirk of his.


Hermione cringed. “Spare me the details, Malfoy,” she said. “So you're just making use of her?”


“I wouldn't call it making use of her when she’s enjoying being made use of too,” Draco replied, smirk still in place.


“You're disgusting,” Hermione said, wincing.


Draco shrugged casually. “You asked,” he reminded her. “Why did you ask in the first place?”


“I told you, I was just wondering,” Hermione told him. He did not look thoroughly convinced, but neither did he pursue the matter further.


Hermione took the first sip of her Butterbeer and allowed the hot, golden liquid slide down her throat. It instantly warmed her up. She savored the delicious taste on her tongue before taking another sip from the bottle. Turning a corner, they took a winding road through another street in Hogsmeade.


“You had a go at Pansy at breakfast just now,” Draco said, remembering the incident in the morning.


Hermione gave a lopsided smile. “Well, you found it amusing, didn’t you?”


Draco acted like he did not know what she meant. “Why would you say that?”


“Come off it, Malfoy,” Hermione said, drinking her Butterbeer. “I heard you laugh to yourself.”


Despite his best efforts not to, Draco grinned. “I couldn’t help it,” he said. “No girl in Slytherin has ever talked to Pansy like that. They don’t even talk about her behind her back. No girl has ever dared.”


“I'm not like any of the girls in Slytherin.”


Draco sneaked a glance at her. “No, you certainly aren’t.”


Hermione caught Draco glancing at her. They held gazes for a second, but it broke off almost as quickly as it started. They walked in silence after that, sipping Butterbeer, treading the cold ground.


“Granger, have you ever thought what would happen if we never ever get this Love-Knot off?” Draco asked after a while, trying his best to sound nonchalant.


The question was sudden, causing Hermione to choke on her drink. She coughed furiously and her whole face grew red from the lack of air. Draco halted to a stop to allow her time to catch her breath. Upon seeing that she was still in a coughing fit, he rather feebly attempted to pat her back.


“Merlin Granger,” he said after she had finally calmed down. They started walking again. “I guess you never gave that option much thought did you? Caught you completely off guard.”


Hermione inhaled deeply, thankful for the cool air that was rushing into her lungs. The question Draco raised had always been lingering in their minds, but it was never voiced. Now, giving this question a voice made the possibility real, too real to handle.


“Yes, you did catch me off guard. And yes, I have given it some thought actually. It was just that I didn’t expect you to ask me so unexpectedly.” She took a tiny mouthful of Butterbeer.


“You haven’t answered the question though,” Draco pointed out, taking a swig from his own bottle. “What if it never ever comes off?” He glanced down at the shimmering silver ribbon. The shine emitting from it seemed to be taunting the two Heads.


No words escaped Hermione’s mouth for a good sixty seconds. Apparently, the answer to Draco’s question terrified her. “We should be positive, Malfoy,” she finally said. “It will come off, I'm sure.”


“You’re not going to agree to get married to me and neither am I to you. We have yet to find a solution to get it off,’ Draco pushed for an answer. “I'm just saying, hypothetically speaking, what if it doesn’t come off? Ever?”


“Malfoy, thinking negatively isn’t�””


“Just answer the question woman!”


“Then I’ll just have to spend the rest of my life with you!”


This time it was Draco who was rendered speechless.


“I mean, you can carry on with your life and me with mine,” Hermione continued, her cheeks tainted slightly pink. “Get married, settle down and all. Your wife and my husband just have to put up with having us stuck together.” She made an effort at a laugh, but it came it came out sounding rather meek. She knew that what she had just said made no sense. At all. It was not probable.


And Draco knew it wasn’t. Staring incredulously at Hermione, he said, “Yes, Granger, that does sound like a lovely idea. I'm sure my wife would love having you around when we’re getting it on in our bedroom. Your husband wouldn't mind either, I suppose!”


“Malfoy, that’s gross!”


“You're the one who’s suggesting that we can lead normal lives while being stuck to one another and I'm the gross one here?” Draco questioned.


Hermione had no answer.


“My father was right,” he mumbled, angrily downing some Butterbeer. “For him, it’s a win-win situation.”


Stopping dead in her tracks, Hermione grabbed Draco by the shoulders and turned him to face her. “Look Malfoy, we’ll figure this out,” she said, looking deeply into his stormy gray eyes. “I don’t know how long it’ll take. Maybe six months, maybe a year, maybe six years, but you can’t lose hope just like that. Do you understand?”


There was resolution in Hermione’s voice, and at the same time, there was comfort. Comfort. Draco gazed into her brown eyes and found himself believing what she had told him. She would not give up on finding a solution. She would not let him give up on it either.


“Fine, Granger,” Draco replied, wrenching his eyes away from her soft brown ones. “I’ll believe you.”


Slowly, Hermione removed her hands from Draco’s board shoulders and went on walking.


“Well, that was foolish,” Draco commented, falling step beside the Head Girl.


Hermione took a big gulp from her bottle. “What was?”


“Me getting all panicky like that,” Draco replied, chucking his empty Butterbeer bottle into a nearby rubbish bin, which burped loudly upon receiving it.


Hermione laughed. “Foolish? I found it funny actually.”


“Did you now?” Draco cocked his eyebrow.


“Yes I did,” Hermione said unperturbedly. “It’s not everyday you see the cool, calm, always-have-a-mean-comment-up-his-sleeve Draco Malfoy get all panicky like that. It’s almost as funny as the time you were drunk.”


Draco scowled. “That wasn’t funny, Granger,” he said, frowning at her. “It wasn’t even funny when you told the whole Gryffindor about it.”


Grinning, Hermione threw her empty Butterbeer bottle into a bin that was along the way (which chomped the glass contentedly). “Everyone in Gryffindor found it hilarious though. So did everyone in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw for that matter.”


“Well, I wasn’t laughing.”


They made their way up a steep slope and took a path that passed a new restaurant called The Four Cloves. It had recently been opened in Hogsmeade and was said to be run by a sweet, old married couple.


“I hear the food here is really good,” Hermione commented, looking at the sign hanging over the restaurant. The words The Four Cloves were printed in large, green italics that sparkled in the light. Little green cloves fell from the signboard, but disappeared once they touched the ground.


“The food at the restaurant near where I live is better,” Draco told her with an air of arrogance.


Hermione sighed and said nothing. Typical Malfoy.


As they carried on with their walk, Hermione rummaged through her bag, extracting the quill she bought for Ron. She wanted to transfer to another section of her bag so that the other items in her bag would not squish it.


“I have that quill,” Draco told Hermione, referring to the black owl quill in her hand. “It doesn’t write as well as the eagle quill though.”


“This isn’t for me,” Hermione informed him. She carefully wrapped the quill in some spare parchment she had in her bag before tucking it away into a safe corner.


“Not for you?”


Hermione shook her head. “No, it’s for Ron.”


Draco emitted a harsh laugh. “Oh, so now the Weasel Boy is getting you to buy him things?” his said austerely. “I suppose that’s the advantage of having a girlfriend who has more money than him.”


Hermione stopped in her tracks. Draco, who had not noticed Hermione stopping, continued walking until the Love-Knot stretched beyond its limit and pulled him back hard. He landed with a thud on his bottom next to his companion.


“What did you do that for?” Draco groaned, pulling himself up from the cold, hard ground.


“Firstly, he didn’t ask me to buy the quill for him,” she said, her voice as cold as the weather. She folded her arms and went on. “Secondly, quit insulting him. So what if he doesn’t have money? Money doesn’t buy you everything. Thirdly, I'm not his girlfriend! So stop insisting that I am.”


Hermione turned around and continued walking, letting Draco catch up with her.


“OK, firstly, why did you buy it for him if he didn’t ask you to?” Draco asked once he was beside Hermione again. “Secondly, I rather not quit insulting him. Thirdly, he obviously fancies you, like I've told you before.”


“I bought it for him because his is worn out and knowing him, he wouldn't bother changing it till someone does it for him,” Hermione explained. “And don’t talk nonsense, Malfoy. He doesn’t fancy me.”


Draco jammed his hands into his coat pocket. “It’s true. I'm not talking nonsense. The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way his stupid face lights up when you're around…”


“You notice all of that?” Hermione asked, shooting Draco a look of curiosity.


“I'm a bloke Granger, in case you haven’t realized. It’s in my nature to notice such things,” Draco stated matter-of-factly. “And anyways, Weasley isn’t the most discreet person I know.” He cast Hermione a look. “In fact, I'm pretty certain you've noticed it too.”


Ignoring Draco’s last statement, Hermione tightened her sweater around herself. “Well, so what if he likes me? What’s it to you anyways?”


Draco threw his hands up and shrugged. “Hey, if you want to spend the rest of your life living in a sty and breeding like a rabbit, that’s really not my problem.”


“I'm not going to marry him!”


“You might as well,” Draco sniggered. “Miss Know-It-All and Mr. Know-Nothing. Perfect match.”


Normally, Hermione would have snapped at Draco, jumping right into Ron’s defense, like she did moments before. However, she did not do so this time. Instead she said, “Have you ever been nice to anyone, Malfoy?”


Draco stared at Hermione as if she had spoken in a different language. He had evidently been anticipating her to yell at him for insulting her and her best friend. But he quickly regained his composure and said, “If you must know, I'm only nice to people who deserve my courtesy.”


“Oh, so you mean purebloods then,” Hermione said, disgust etched in her voice. “But you treat Crabbe and Goyle horribly too. And they’re purebloods.”


Draco snorted. “Granger, have you seen Crabbe and Goyle? Everyone in Slytherin treat them that way! It’s hard not to when you consider how stupid they are.”


“Parkinson’s stupid. I don’t see you treating her like rubbish.”


Unthinkingly, Draco laughed at her statement. “Very bitchy, Granger. You're having a go at her again! You really don’t like her, do you?”


A hard look appeared on Hermione’s usually tender face. “I used to not like her. But after she slapped me, I absolutely loathe her.”


Draco grinned; a smug, cocky grin. “If I didn’t know better, I'd say you’re jealous of her.”


Hermione did a double take. “Me? Jealous of Pug-face Parkinson? Are you mad?!”


“Calm down, Granger,” Draco said coolly. “I was just pulling your leg. Why are you getting so worked up for?”


“Because you saying that is like me saying that you're jealous of Ron,” Hermione told him in a dry tone.


Draco’s eyebrows shot up high. “Me? Jealous of Weaselbreath? Have you completely lost your mind?!”


“Calm down, Malfoy,” Hermione said, repeating the words he used on her. “I was just giving an example. Why are you getting so worked up for?”


Draco scowled. “I see your point.”


And so went their first round of Hogsmeade. Before they knew it, it was time for their second round. The path beneath Draco and Hermione made a huge roundabout and they returned to the point where they started�” The Three
Broomsticks.


By one of the window seats in the inn, Hermione saw Michael and Lavender snogging. It was as if there was a magnetic attraction in their lips because she stood there with Draco for a couple of minutes, and yet their lips refused to move from each others’.


“Honestly, I hate it when couples do that,” Hermione complained, quickly walking down the path so that she did not have to watch any longer. “Can’t they do it some place private?”


“Technically they’re not breaking any rules,” Draco said casually. “If they want to express their love openly, then let them be. They can snog till the Christmas for all I care.” He turned to stare at Hermione while unwrapping the bar of chocolate he had gotten from Honeydukes. “What’s with you and them snogging anyways? Wish you were in that position, isn’t it? Bet you've never kissed anyone before, Granger.” He took a huge bite out of the bar.


Hermione gave an indignant sniff. “That’s really none of your business.”


“Just admit that you haven’t,” Draco teased. “There’s no need to be shy about it.”


“If you must know,” Hermione paused to narrow her eyes at him, “I have.”


“You're bluffing.”


“No, I'm not. There’s no reason for me to.”


“Who did you snog then? Potter?”


“No ! I did not snog Harry!” Hermione nearly shouted. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out. And by the way, you have some chocolate at the corner of your mouth.”


“Don’t change the subject, Granger,” Draco said, ignoring the little chocolate stain Hermione mentioned. “Who was it?”


“Why are you so interested in knowing who it was?” Hermione questioned. “And do wipe the chocolate off.”


Draco absent-mindedly ran the back of his hand over his mouth. “It couldn’t have been Weasley, could it?”


“It’s still there,” Hermione said, paying no attention to Draco’s words. “Near your lips. At the corner”


“To hell with the chocolate!” Draco exclaimed with exasperation. “Who was it?!”


“Oh, for heaven sake…” Hermione stopped in her tracks and made Draco turn to face her. She ran her finger over the spot, speedily rubbing it away. She felt Draco stiffen slightly under her touch.


“There,” she announced when the stain had vanished. Her face grew slightly hot when she had realized what she had done and she quickly removed her hand.


Before she could turn away, however, Draco caught her by her wrist and forced her to face him. “Who was it?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper as she was mere inches away from him. A chill ran down Hermione’s spine, and she was not sure if it had to do with the cold entirely.


“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice from behind the two said before Hermione could break free Draco, “what fortune to bump into you two.”


A moan escaped Hermione’s lips as she heard the voice. She knew all too well who it was and dreaded turning around to face him. But she did anyways. True enough, there stood the one person she did not want to see at this moment or any other for that matter�” Lucius Malfoy. Only this time, Narcissa Malfoy was with him too. And the two of them (together) had seen Hermione wipe the corner of Draco’s mouth with her finger as well as find them (Draco and Hermione, that is) in this position. Whoopee. Hermione did not think she could get any luckier.

---

Author’s Note: Hey everybody! This one's going to be LONG. At this point, I need to thank several people, namely: CraftySlytherin, Anjali (via email) and Cassia Finwick. Why, you may ask?

Well, I want to thank CraftySlytherin and Anjali for giving me the Hogsmeade trip idea. Both of them suggested that a trip to would be interesting. Anjali was the one who proposed that as Heads, “they need to patrol the village for misbehaving students”, while CraftySlytherin suggested that “Lucius could 'conveniently' show up to check on their progress first hand”. Thanks guys! Your ideas did wonders for my story.

Of course, not forgetting Cassia Finwick, who offered the idea that “Narcissa Malfoy should drop by… and have a look at her ‘daughter-in-law’.” Cassia did also mention that Narcissa should visit using the fireplace in the Heads’ common room, but I thought it’d be better this way. Narcissa doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who would want to stick her head into the fireplace like that. I hope that’s ok with you, Cassia.

People whose ideas I have yet to use don’t despair! I probably will use them in the later chapters (if I can and if it seems plausible). And if not in this story then it might just find its way in another one. So don’t be shy and do share with me your ideas, people. You might just see it make an appearance in my story!

Chapter 22- For a Change


Mr. Malfoy took a step forward, an incomprehensible expression on his sallow face. “Now, look here you two, I'm not at all against kissing. Just as long as it does not escalate into anything more.”


Draco and Hermione stared at Mr. Malfoy, eyes bulging from their sockets, jaws dropping as far as they could possibly go.


“Kissing?!” they shouted in unison upon finding their voices.


“You thought I was kissing him?!” Hermione shrieked.


“We saw it with our own two eyes,” Mr. Malfoy said in a tone which suggested that he could not decide between being happy or disgusted.


“Then I suggest you get your eyes checked,” Hermione murmured.


Mr. Malfoy shot Hermione a look. “What was that?”


“Nothing.”


“Father, you're misunderstanding the whole situation,” Draco finally spoke up. “Again.”


Mr. Malfoy smiled silkily. “No use being shy about it, Draco.”


At this point, Hermione knew it was not going to do them any good in trying to talk Mr. Malfoy out of what he thought was going on between Draco and herself. That would simply make matters worse. It was quite probable that if the two Heads end up killing the other in a fight (due to excessive quarrelling), Mr. Malfoy would (somehow) attribute their deaths to their (non-existent) love for each other, or something along those lines.


Honestly, the topic of conversation during Mr. Malfoy’s sudden appearances was getting more and more predictable.


“Father, mother, what are you doing here in the first place?” Draco asked his parents, quickly changing the topic. Apparently, like Hermione, he realized that trying to convince his parents that nothing happened was quite pointless.


“We had to go to Dervish and Banges, Draco,” his mother drawled haughtily. It was the first time the woman had spoken and Hermione tilted her head to get a better look at her. Platinum blonde hair tied up behind her head in a tight bun, she had a rather jaded appearance on her pointed face. “Your father had to get something repaired.”


For some reason, Draco doubted that was the actual reason behind his parent’s visit to Hogsmeade.


Mrs. Malfoy then turned her cold gaze to Hermione. “Ah, Hermione Granger. I was wondering when I would get to meet you. It’s been a while since I last saw you. Has my son been treating you well?”


“From the looks of it, he has been treating her very well, hasn’t he?” Mr. Malfoy said with a dry chuckle. His right eye seemed to be twitching uncontrollably and it took Hermione a few moments to figure out that he was actually trying to wink! Imagine her horror!


“Mother, Granger and I�””


“Shush, Draco, I'm trying to talk to my future daughter-in-law,” Mrs. Malfoy told her son sternly. “Tell me, how is it like living with my son?”


It was bad enough that Hermione had to deal with Lucius Malfoy calling her ‘daughter-in-law’ and now, to make matters worse, his wife was doing the same! “You've got to be joking,” she mumbled under her breath, cursing her luck.


“What did you say?” Mrs. Malfoy frowned. “I didn’t quite catch that.”


“I did not say anything,” Hermione told her frigidly.


Mrs. Malfoy raised a perfectly plucked blonde eyebrow. “Well you should have. I asked you a question. It is very rude not to answer.”


Isn’t she going to make a wonderful mother-in-law? Hermione thought to herself wryly, restraining from rolling her eyes at the elderly lady.


“Now, now, Narcissa,” Mr. Malfoy calmed his wife down. “Give the girl time.” He gave Hermione a stiff smile. “How have the two of you been, aside from what we already saw?”


“You didn’t see anything. You merely thought you did,” Draco replied, looking from his mother to his father incredulously.


“Draco, that is no way to speak to your father,” Mrs. Malfoy chastised.


Mr. Malfoy shook his head. “Let him be, Narcissa. He is simply embarrassed that we caught him and Hermione in their private time.”


Draco was amazed by his father. Lucius Malfoy took denial to a whole new level.


“Did you receive my letter, father?” Draco asked, trying once again to change the subject. “I sent it to you on Sunday night, but you never wrote back.”


“The letter about the whole bathroom incident, I presume?” Mr. Malfoy queried. “Yes, I did receive that. I verified the information and it indeed seems true. I was very relieved to know that nothing of that sort ever did happen between the two of you.”


“It would have been much easier if you had just believed us before,” Hermione pointed out.


Mr. Malfoy burst into monotonous laughter, and then stopped abruptly. “She’s a funny girl, isn’t she, Narcissa?”


Mrs. Malfoy chuckled half-heartedly. “Very funny indeed,” she responded, a condescending look appearing on her pale features.


“Let us just forget about all that now, daughter-in-law. It’s all in the past,” Mr. Malfoy said with a swift wave of his hand. There was a moment of silence where Hermione glared at Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, who glared back at her, while Draco figured out how to stop the glaring match between his parents and the girl beside him.


“Draco,” It was Mr. Malfoy who spoke up again, looking away from Hermione, “just to inform you, your mother and I will be going to France for a few of weeks. Therefore, forward your letters to us there. Your owl should be able to find us.”


“France?” Draco frowned. “What for?”


“Business. Nothing important,” Mr. Malfoy replied, brushing the matter aside. “Anyway, it is wonderful to see the two of you wandering around Hogsmeade together, without your friends. And I'm very happy that I got to see this progress first-hand.”


“We’re not here without our friends by choice,” Draco hastily told his father. He explained to Mr. Malfoy about the new rule Dumbledore had decided upon. “So we’re here together without friends because we have to patrol Hogsmeade and no other reason.”


To Draco and Hermione’s astonishment, Mr. Malfoy laughed, while there was a small smile playing on Mrs. Malfoy’s lips. “Ah, Dumbledore!” Mr. Malfoy exclaimed gleefully. “It’s simply wonderful to see that he’s helping me in my noble cause of getting the two of married.”


Draco stared at his father bug-eyed, with Hermione wearing an identical expression.


“Well, it was good bumping into you two,” Mr. Malfoy pulled out a gold watch from his pocket and looked at the time, “but we should be on our way now. Do have fun spending this quality time together.” And he disappeared with a CRACK .


“I’ll send you some sweets soon, Draco,” Mrs. Malfoy told her son before following her husband’s lead and disapparating with another loud CRACK .


Draco and Hermione stood in stunned silence for a long time. Finally, it was Draco who spoke.


“Do you think Dumbledore is really trying to…”


“…help your father’s ‘noble cause’?” Hermione finished for him. “I dunno, Malfoy. I honestly dunno.” She bit her bottom lip. “No, there’s no way Professor Dumbledore would ever do something like that.” She could not imagine Dumbledore evil and scheming together with Lucius Malfoy. Impossible.


“Dumbledore does not strike me as the sort who would be conspiring with my father,” Draco voiced, taking the words right out of Hermione’s mouth.


“Exactly,” Hermione affirmed with a nod, “Professor Dumbledore would do no such thing with Lucius Malfoy.”


“And what if…” Draco sighed, trying to think of how to phrase his question. “What if Dumbledore is doing this on his own accord?”


Hermione pursed her lips together. “You think he would do that?”


Draco shrugged. “I dunno, but nothing surprises me anymore.”


“No,” Hermione said, but did not sound as convincing as she did before. “Why would he try to do something like that? What would his purpose be to get us together? It just doesn’t make any sense.”


Silence ensued as each tried to persuade themselves that Dumbledore would have no reason to want them together. He certainly would not try pushing them together. Would he?


The two students continued walking around Hogsmeade in silence for the next few minutes, the thoughts in their heads definitely more jumbled up than before.


“So,” Draco said suddenly, breaking the quietness that had developed for quite a while, “you never answered my question. Who was it that you snogged, Granger?”

---

Hogwarts student were generally quite well-behaved today because the two Heads did not catch even one who was being unruly. Hence, when patrolling ended, Draco and Hermione made their way to the castle without any complaints for Professor McGonagall.


“No misbehaving students at all?” Professor McGonagall questioned the two Heads, who had reported directly to her after their duty in Hogsmeade.


“Not even one, Professor,” Draco informed her.


“Good, good,” Professor McGonagall said as she scribbled something in her notebook. “Right then, the both of you can head off to dinner now. I’ll see you during the next Hogsmeade trip.”


Dinner was at the Gryffindor table, so Draco had to bear an hour or so with the Dream Team and the Girl Weasel.


“How was your day?” Hermione asked her friends as she took a seat with them.


“It was all right, ‘Mione,” Ginny replied, digging her fork into some pudding, “but we missed you. Did ferret-face here bother you?”


“Yes, Weasley, I bothered her like hell,” Draco said before Hermione could respond. He obviously did not appreciate being called ‘ferret-face’. “What are you going to do about it?”


Ginny tilted her head to one side and surveyed Draco with a wicked smile. “Are you sure you want to find out, Malfoy?”


Draco stared at the youngest of the Weasleys. She was something. Ever since he had been forced to sit at the Gryffindor table, he found himself wondering sometimes how well she would have done in Slytherin. And there were times when he thought she would probably do better than him in his house.


“Save it, Weasley,” Draco said, trying to feel as courageous as he sounded. “I don’t have time for your little games.”


Ginny looked like she was all set to retort, but Hermione cut in. “I got a new quill for you, Ron,” she said conversationally, smiling at the freckled-faced boy, who was currently stuffing his mouth with roast chicken.


Ron attempted answering through a mouthful of chicken, but when he saw Hermione give him the ‘you-better-swallow-that-before-you-dare-talk-to-me’ look, he decided it would be safer to gulp his food down first. “You did?” he said, a huge grin creeping onto his face.


Draco scowled. There he goes again. Weasel-breath’s face is lighting up as if Hermione had just offered him and his family a million Galleons, he thought bitterly. And what is it with the ridiculous smile on his face? It’s not as if he doesn’t look dumb enough already…


Hermione cracked a smile upon seeing the happy expression on Ron’s face. “Yes, I did.”


“What for?” Ron asked, goofy grin still in place.


A nasty remark was on the tip of Draco’s tongue, but he had to bite it down as Hermione was shooting him a menacing look. It was as though she knew he was going to say something. And Draco was in no mood to mess with her right now.


“Because I have seen the state of your current quill, Ron,” Hermione said, focusing her attention back on her redheaded friend, “and how you write with that thing is beyond me.”


Ron’s face flushed as Hermione reached into the bag that she had brought along with her to Hogsmeade and fished out the new quill. She handed it to Ron, together with the box of sugar quills. “The sugar quills are a better alternative to chew on,” she said matter-of-factly.


“I guessed as much,” Ron mumbled as he dumped everything beside his dinner plate.


“Don’t be sour about it, Ron,” Ginny scolded. “You should thank Hermione for being thoughtful. She took the effort to buy you a new quill as well as a box of sugar quills. If I had seen the condition of your existing quill, I would simply have told you that you're a disgusting prick and that you should stop the revolting habit of chewing your quill.”


Glaring at his sister, Ron mumbled to Hermione a quick thank you.


Draco, on the other hand, was rather enjoying Ron being put down by his own sister.


And just when he thought that Ginny had had enough poking fun at her brother, the youngest of the Weasleys said, “So, how does the back of a barn-owl feather taste like, Ron?”

---

After a satisfying dinner (both in terms of the food and the entertainment), Draco and Hermione retreated into their dormitory, where they were greeted by Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor.


“Hello, you two!” Godric Gryffindor exclaimed cheerily as they entered.


“I'm surprised that the two of you made it back alive,” Salazar Slytherin said, a hint of despondence in his voice. He seemed slightly upset that the two students were standing in front of him in flesh and blood. “I thought for sure you’d kill each other today during your patrolling.”


“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Salazar,” Godric hushed his companion. “I didn’t expect them to kill each other quite so soon.” Then he smiled at the two as if he did not make that comment at all. “Do tell us how your day went.”


Draco and Hermione pondered over this question for quite some time. How did today go? They did not exactly like the time they spent with each other, but they most certainly did not hate it either.


Finally, Hermione said, “It went OK.” She gave Draco a questioning look. “Right?”


“It didn’t go as badly as expected,” he replied, giving a small shrug.


Salazar Slytherin arched an eyebrow. “Really now?”


“That is good then,” Godric Gryffindor said, looking unsure of the reaction he got, “I suppose.”


“Well, if you would excuse us then,” Hermione smiled at the two portraits, “we’re going to do some homework before heading off to bed.”


“Sure,” Godric returned her smile, “go right ahead. Don’t let us stop you.”


Quickly running up to their respective dorms, they grabbed their school books and sat themselves down on the table in the common room. Hermione was doing Transfiguration, while Draco decided on completing his Arithmancy homework.


Silence filled the common room as the two began studying. This continued for half an hour or so, until Hermione looked up to see Draco bent over his textbook and staring at it as if it were written in troll.


It was quite an amusing expression really. She had never noticed it before.


Biting her bottom lip to keep herself from laughing out loud, Hermione asked, “Malfoy, are you all right?”


Draco did not look up from his book. “Yes, yes, I'm fine,” he muttered.


“You sure?”


“I'm fine, Granger.”


“Then why do you look like you're going to shred your book up into pieces?”


“All right, fine! If you really must know, I'm as good in Arithmancy as Crabbe is at doing ballet!” Draco admitted in exasperation.


Hermione burst into a fit of giggles. “Do you need my help?”


“No,” Draco responded with a trace of defiance.


“I'm good at Arithmancy, you know,” Hermione told him plain and simple.


Draco rolled his eyes. “So I've heard.”


“And I don’t bite when asked for help.”


“You're really persistent, you know that?”


“So I've heard.”


Draco sighed. “Oh, all right.” He dumped his textbook in font of her. “What do I have to lose anyway?”


Hermione smiled inwardly and spent the rest of the night teaching Draco the concepts of Arithmancy.


“I must say this is interesting, Godric,” Salazar Slytherin said smoothly.


“What is?”


“They were not arguing when they came through the portrait hole, they did not complain about their trip to Hogsmeade with each other and now, she is helping him with his homework!” Salazar Slytherin chuckled deprecatingly. “It is almost surreal.”


“Yes, yes, it is rather interesting, isn’t it?” Godric Gryffindor laughed. “Just for today, it seems like they are actually getting along, for a change.”

---

Chapter 23- Double Date


January eventually removed all its traces from Hogwarts to make way for February, which brought with it increasing pressure of the N.E.W.T's. Teachers were handing out homework like candy treats on Halloween. An exceptionally evil teacher (i.e. SNAPE) gave his students so much work that it seemed like he wanted them to live homework, breath homework, eat, sleep and drink homework.


In addition, the weather remained cold, but less wet than before, with the sun making unexpected appearances every now and then. Draco was grateful for this as his Quidditch practices would not need to be suspended due to the sudden arrival of monstrous rainfall (this had happened quite a number of times in January). The Slytherin team needed as much practice as they could get because their match with Ravenclaw was coming up; in three weeks time, to be exact. It had been scheduled a week after Valentine’s Day.


Yes, Saint Valentine’s Day �“ the season of lurve… The season of chocolates and flowers and all things romantic… The season where girls got all giggly upon seeing their crush in the hallways and where boys acted all macho in front of the female population in general... The season which was overrated in Hermione’s opinion.


So when she saw a huge bouquet of assorted flowers for her on the Heads’ common room table on Saturday morning (a week before Valentine’s Day), she was pleasantly surprised.


“They arrived this morning for you, Hermione,” Godric Gryffindor informed her as she bent down to pick the bouquet up. “Aren’t they just lovely?”


Hermione looked at the assortment of flowers and smiled. “Yes, they are lovely.”


“And my, aren’t you happy to see them!” Jinx commented, glowing a merry rose pink. The mood ring had somehow managed to find her way back onto Hermione’s finger it seemed.


“I'm guessing it’s from a secret admirer,” Godric Gryffindor commented with a wink, “for Valentine’s Day.”


“Teenage romance,” Salazar Slytherin yawned. “How dreadfully boring.”


“Who’d send you flowers, Granger?” Draco said, staring at the mixture of pink, yellow and orange flora in her hand. He was attempting to act nonchalant about Hermione receiving flowers, but inwardly, curiosity was swallowing him whole.


Hermione shot Draco a look. “Well excuse me, Malfoy, but you're not the only one who can have admirers.”


“Now that’s a revelation,” Draco smirked. “I thought Weasley was the only one thick enough to fancy you.”


“Oh shut it up, Blondie,” Jinx shot, her pink color now tinted with a slight green. “You're annoying her.”


Ignoring Draco, Hermione plucked a card from the center of the bouquet and opened it, reading the stylish, italic words:


My dearest Hermione,


Many apologies for not writing in such a long while. Quidditch has been keeping me very busy. How have you been? Doing well, I hope. I have been fine, but I do wish to relax a little bit more. Quidditch is tiring.


Now, let me get down to business, as you English say. The actual reason for this letter is that I need to ask you something.


I will be coming down to England on Wednesday for a friendly match of Quidditch; England versus Bulgaria. After that, I have training, but I will be free on Saturday evening to do as I please. So I was thinking, Hermione, will you be my Valentine? We could go out on Saturday evening and dine at a restaurant. I have not seen you in three years and we have lots to talk about.


Do reply me as soon as you can. I hope the answer will be positive.


Yours truly,
Viktor.


“Viktor?” Draco said loudly as Hermione closed the card happily (Jinx’s rose pink was turning into a denser pink) and tucked in back within the flowers. “Who the bloody hell is Viktor?”


“You read my card?!” Hermione exclaimed in indignation.


“Only bits from over your shoulder while you were getting all gooey-eyed over it,” Draco sneered.


Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Do you even know what the meaning of privacy is?”


“I do know perfectly well what privacy means,” Draco said as he took a seat on one of the wooden chairs. “But do you know it’s still on holiday?” He pointed at the Love-Knot.


“Permanent vacation more like it,” Hermione remarked with a sigh, taking a seat next to Draco.


Picking up a spare piece of parchment she had left on the table the previous night, she wrote a quick reply to Viktor, telling him that she would love to have dinner with him on Saturday.


Draco nearly toppled out of his chair when he saw what Hermione had replied. “You're agreeing?!”


“Will you stop reading my letters, Malfoy?!”


“Bugger off, Blonde boy! The poor girl’s really happy, but you just keep pestering her!”


“How can you agree?!”


“I haven’t seen Viktor in a while and it would be nice to see him on Valentine’s Day.”


“Then what do you expect me to do?! Snip off the Love-Knot so you can go rendezvousing with some bloke?!” Draco was close to shouting. “Oh wait, I forgot,” he glared at Hermione irritably, “I can’t do that!”


“Malfoy, I have this figured out,” Hermione said coolly as Jinx glowed sky blue.


Draco chortled in disbelief. “And how exactly do you have this figured out? Do enlighten me.”


“You see, Harry has this,” she paused and frowned deeply, “thing that can help us in this situation,” she explained, or at least tried to.


“What in Merlin’s name are you talking about, Granger?” Draco demanded, one blonde brow cocked in incredulity.


Hermione wanted to tell Draco about Harry’s invisibility cloak, but she was not sure if Harry would appreciate her doing so. She would have to discuss it with her raven-haired friend first. And probably do a fair amount of convincing too.


“Look, just trust me on this one,” she assured him.


“She is right, you know,” Jinx affirmed, with the sky blue color acquiring a hint of pale orange. “She is certain about it.”


“Just trust me on this one,” Draco mimicked. “That’s easy for you to say. Who knows what you have planned. Plus, what if I have a date on Valentine’s Day? What if I want to go out?”


Hermione sighed. “Malfoy, I know for a fact that you don’t have plans because in case you didn’t notice, I'm with you twenty-four seven.”


Draco swore loudly.


Hermione wagged a finger at him. “Watch that tongue of yours.” She folded the letter she had written to Viktor into half. “I have to go up to the Owlery to deliver this letter. We can go to breakfast after that.”


“Don’t think I've agreed to your little date just because I'm not saying anything,” Draco snapped as they headed out of the common room.


He was sulking on his way to the Owlery for two reasons; one, Hermione had a date for Valentine’s day, and two, he was going to have to spend it with her and Viktor. It was not the least bit fair.


He thought that they would spend Valentine’s Day together, albeit grudgingly, since they had no other alternative. It would not be the best Valentine’s Day he ever had, spending it alone with Hermione, but he had been mentally prepared for it because of the Love-Knot.


But now, Hermione had to complicate matters �“ she had to land herself a date.


Who in his right mind would date Granger anyway?


This Viktor person, who is he?” he voiced his thoughts out loud. “You still haven’t told me.”


“Yes, Hermione, I'm pretty curious myself” Jinx agreed, “who is this Viktor bloke?”


“He’s a friend of mine,” she said nonchalantly. Draco obviously did not read much of her card earlier on, otherwise he would certainly figure out who Viktor was.


“Well, that’s very informative,” Draco said, the sarcasm in his voice evident. “Care to elaborate.”


Jinx glimmered indigo. “Why are you so reluctant to talk about him, Hermione?”


Because I don’t want Malfoy going into a frenzy when he finds out that he is a World-famous Quidditch player! “I met him in the fourth year when his school, Durmstrang, came to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament. He�””


“Hold on a minute,” Draco interrupted. “You're not talking about Viktor Krum, are you?”


When Hermione nodded, he went on to say, “The Viktor Krum? Bulgarian Seeker extraordinaire?”


“Yes, Malfoy, I'm talking about him,” Hermione confirmed with a small sigh.


“Holy Merlin’s beard!” Jinx gasped. Viktor Krum was popular among mood rings too apparently.


Draco’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “How the bloody hell do you know Viktor bleeding Krum?!”


Just the reaction she had expected. “If you had let me finish what I was saying earlier, you would be able to find out,” Hermione said flatly. When she was certain that Draco was not going to butt in again, she continued. “He took me to the Yule Ball and since then�””


“I remember! You were the girl he took to the Yule Ball! Why he did such a thing is still beyond me…” Draco cut in again. This time, he received a pointed look from Hermione and decided it would be best if he shut up.


“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted again,” Hermione said, glaring at Draco, “he took me to the Yule Ball and since then we’ve been keeping in contact. We write to each other once in a while. He even invited me to Bulgaria during the summer once or twice, but I declined.”


“He invited you to Bulgaria?” Draco felt a stab of something that he had never experienced before, but quickly brushed it away.


“Yes, he did, a couple of times,” Hermione told him.


“Does Weasley know about Krum?” Draco asked as they entered the Owlery. The smell of owl droppings and stale straw filled their nostrils and they grimaced momentarily.


“Ron?” Hermione went down the rows of owls to look for a suitable one. “Yes, he knows.” She picked a regular tawny owl and tied the letter to its foot, which it gladly stuck out for her.


“Bet he wasn’t too thrilled about it,” Draco snorted as he watched the owl soar off into the azure morning sky. For some reason, I know I'm not.


They exited the Owlery, making their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.


“Oh bloody hell!” Draco suddenly cried out, causing Hermione to jump a good two feet into the air, with Jinx turning a violent shade of olive green. “It was Krum!”


“You just scared the crap out of her, you prick!” Jinx rebuked.


Hermione, who was trying to calm herself down from the shock of Draco’s yell, stared at him. “What are you on about, Malfoy?”


“It was Krum!” he repeated, waving his hands around frantically, as though trying to make Hermione understand some weird, foreign sign language. “You snogged Krum!”


Face turning beetroot red (and Jinx turning a deep burgundy), Hermione flinched at Draco’s discovery. For a moment, she was too tongue-tied to say anything.


“I can’t believe you still remember that!” Hermione finally said, surprised that since the Hogsmeade trip till now, Draco was still contemplating about who she kissed.


“It was him, wasn’t it?” Draco pressed on, that familiar emotion he felt earlier growing within him like a little balloon. “Oh come on Granger, I know I'm right. That look on your face says it all!”


Walking down the steps to the ground floor, Hermione stopped, turned to Draco and said, “All right, Malfoy, it was him. Congratulations on making this wonderful new breakthrough in my personal life. Now please, there’s no need to make a racket about it. I don’t want the whole school finding out.”


“And she means business, feller,” Jinx added. "So tell me Hermione, how was it like snogging a Quidditch player?"


"Jinx!"


"What? I was just wondering..."


Hermione sighed and resumed walking. “I need to use the bathroom,” she announced after a while.


So, they took a slight detour for Hermione’s sake, heading towards the Girls’ Bathroom on the ground floor. Shutting herself into one of the cubicles, she went about her affair, with Draco waiting for her outside.


I cannot believe she snogged Krum! he thought grumpily. I cannot believe she snogged anyone for that matter. Then there was that strange feeling again. He was quite certain he knew what it was, but did not want to admit it. Admitting what it was would make it real. If Granger’s got a bloody date on Valentine’s day, I'm not going to sit around and watch them get all mushy and sappy. I'm going to bloody well find myself a date. And hell, it’s not going to be Pansy. That would be too predictable.


The stall beside Hermione’s opened, interrupting Draco’s thoughts, and out stepped a tall, strawberry-blonde haired girl. Her sea-green eyes widened in curiosity when she saw him standing in the Girls’ toilet, but then she glanced down at the Love-Knot and a look of understanding dawned upon her pretty features.


Tossing her hair behind her shoulder, she made her way to the basins to wash her hands, knowing full well that Draco was ogling at her as she walked.


His eyes traveled down her slim body and her long legs, which were revealed through her tight sweater top and miniskirt. Her long and straight hair ended off at her shoulder blades and she gently tied it up with a ribbon from her pocket, revealing the curves of her creamy neck.


With a suggestive smile in Draco’s direction, she departed the lavatory just as Hermione came out of her cubicle.


Hermione gave Draco an inquisitive look, as there was an unreadable expression on his face, before tottering over to the sink nearest the exit to wash her hands.


“Granger, your hair’s in a mess,” Draco mentioned suddenly. “I think you should fix it. Take your time. I’ll be waiting right outside the door.”


Hermione raised an eyebrow at Draco’s abrupt statement and stared as he whisked himself out of the door, amazed that he was not pulled back by the Love-Knot. I guess he still is within three and a half feet of me, she thought to herself. Then she looked into the mirror and glanced at her hair.


To her, her brown tresses looked the same as it did everyday �“ frizzy, curly and generally untamed. Why had he said it was in a mess? Since when did he even care? Hold on a minute, something was not quite right here.


“I feel the same way, Hermione,” Jinx quipped from her opal. “Something fishy is going on. Why would Blondie be bothered with what your hair looks like?”


“Exactly what I'm thinking, Jinx. And why was he in such a hurry to leave the bathroom? I don’t usually take long.”


Brows knitted, Hermione made her way out of the restroom, but halted dead in her tracks when the sight in front of her met her eyes.


Draco had a pretty girl up against the wall, with his hands placed beside her head. She had one of her knees popped in between his legs and was currently giggling at something he had whispered into her ear. Then, without warning, one of Draco’s hands slid from the wall and came to rest on her waist.


At this point, Jinx flashed a vivid maroon. “Oh dear,” she said with a tiny gasp, “do I sense jealousy?”


Hermione, however, was too fixed by the image in front of her to hear the mood ring. She cleared her throat noisily to make her presence known. “For heaven sake,” she said loudly when the throat clearing did not have an effect.


That did it. Draco turned to look at her and did not seem pleased that he was interrupted. “Granger, you're out I see.”


Hermione folded her arms and glared. “I'm glad you pointed that out for us.”


“Ah, how rude of me! Let me make introductions,” Draco gestured at the pretty girl. “Granger, this is Simone from Ravenclaw and she’s my date on Valentine’s Day.”


“What?!”


“And Simone, this is�””


“Hermione Granger,” Simone answered for Draco. “Everyone knows her.” She smiled good-naturedly.


Hermione forced a smile, but failed miserably.


Whispering into Simone’s ear again, Draco planted a kiss on her cheek. “I better not keep you any longer, Simone,” he said with a charming smile, one that Hermione had never seen before.


“I don’t really mind staying actually,” she chuckled lightly, “but my friends will be wondering where I disappeared off to.”


Draco moved away from her to allow her space to walk off. “I’ll be seeing you next Saturday then.”


Simone flashed him a playful smile. “I can hardly wait.”


“Nor can I,” Draco brushed his lips across her fingers and watched her as she sashayed away. “She does have a nice arse, doesn’t she?” he commented, smiling impishly.


“Ooo, Blondie, I think you better shut up,”, Jinx said. She was emitting a faint glow of red, to reflect Hermione’s not-so-good mood.


Astonishingly, however, the Head Girl did not say a word. She glared for a moment, then simply turned away from Draco and started to walk in the direction of The Great Hall.


The Slytherin stared after her questioningly. No arguing? He sure had expected it. He even had a few good counter-arguments already in mind.


Abandoning thoughts of quarreling, he trotted up next to Hermione, matching his pace with hers. Instantly, his eyes dropped to notice Jinx, who was alternating between colors by the millisecond. He gulped. Surely that was not a good sign.


“I thought it would be fun to have a double date,” Draco remarked sardonically. He knew that sarcasm was not the best tactic given the circumstance (and Jinx’s color-changing flurry), but he did not want Hermione to think he was daunted by the (slightly intimidating) expression on her face.


Hermione threw Draco a contemptuous glance. “All I have to say is that it’s odd that you never mentioned anything about taking anyone out on Valentine’s Day, but the minute I get a date, you unexpectedly produce one for yourself as well.”


Draco immediately jumped to his own defense. “I took my time with getting a date because I wanted to meet the perfect girl to go out with. And�””


“Oh,” Hermione interposed, “therefore it is simply by luck that you happen to meet this perfect girl of yours moments after I make plans for myself?”


“Merely a coincidence.”


“Nonsense. How do you come up with such ridiculously pathetic excuses anyway?” Hermione asked, making a sour face. “Now, not only will I have to explain to Viktor how come I'm stuck to you, but I’ll also have to tell him that you decided to bring a friend along!”


Draco scowled. “Look, you're the one who’s always going on about how we have to compromise now that we’re got the Love-Knot on. So I'm only trying to be reasonable here. It’s not very fair if either of us go on a date whilst dragging the other along as a third wheel, regardless of whether Potter has a solution or not. Either we both go out with our individual dates while being stuck together, or we don’t go out at all. It’s your choice now.”


Finding it somewhat hard to believe that Draco was talking about being reasonable, Hermione answered (with some reluctance), “I pick the first option.”


Draco smirked. “Glad to see that you came around. I'm sure the double date will be enjoyable.”


“Please stop calling it that,” Hermione sighed.


“Merlin, I thought you two were never going to work that one out!” Jinx said suddenly as they entered the Hall. “I was changing colors by the second like a deranged rainbow! It’s no wonder my head’s spinning slightly now. And I do feel a little sick.”


Draco frowned. Mood rings feeling sick? “Granger, I think you may have a defective mood ring,” he stated in genuine amazement. “Very defective.”


“Who’re you calling defective?” Jinx hissed menacingly. Like some time before, Hermione had a splitting image of Jinx brandishing little fists at Draco if she had any.


“Ignore him, Jinx,” Hermione coaxed the mood ring into calming down. “Will you be all right? Do you want me to put you away for a while?”


Jinx nodded in her tiny opal. “Yes, that would be nice.” She smiled gratefully as Hermione slipped her off her finger. “But don’t forget about me!” Jinx said before being dropped into the pocket of her owner’s jeans. Hermione chuckled at her mood ring’s statement.


“Morning, ‘Mione! You look awfully happy today,” Ron noticed as she approached the table and sat next to Ginny. “Did Malfoy do something stupid to make a fool of himself?”


“Very funny, Weasley,” Draco made a face as he sat.


“It’s nothing in particular.” Hermione selected a croissant from the basket in front of her and started spreading cream cheese on it. “How has your morning been so far?”


“We were just talking about the friendly match next week. England versus Bulgaria,” Harry informed her. “Ron reckons that England is going to beat Bulgaria. I'm not entirely sure about that though.”


“Speaking of which, Viktor asked me to go out with him on Valentine’s Day,” Hermione said casually, attempting to make it sound like a passing statement. “I thought I’d let you know.”


It did not come across all that casual though. Harry and Ginny dropped their cutlery onto their plates noisily, while Ron, who had been drinking orange juice, sprayed it all over the unsuspecting Neville, who was sitting right across him.


“V…Viktor Krum?!” Ron sputtered, his blue eyes watering from the juice running up his nose.


“Do you know of any other Viktor, Ron?” Hermione asked, continuing to spread cheese on her bun like nothing had happened.


“Is that why he set up that friendly between England and Bulgaria?” Ron demanded, convinced that Viktor somehow had a hand in getting the upcoming match organized. “So that he could come down here and meet you? I can just imagine him ordering his coach to have a match here…”


Hermione rolled her eyes and poured herself some juice. “No, Ron. He did not do anything of that sort. The management of the Bulgarian squad set that match up for the team. After the game, he will be having regular training, but he’ll be free on Saturday evening, so he asked me to go out with him.”


“Are you going to agree to it?” Ginny questioned, eyeing Hermione inquiringly.


“I already did.”


“You what?!” Ron could not believe his ears. “And what is Malfoy here suppose to do while you're out with Krum? Pretend that he’s nonexistent?!”


“Actually, I have a date of my own, Weasley,” Draco informed him coldly. “Thanks for your concern.”


Harry’s eyebrows shot up slightly into his hair. “So it’s going to be a double date then?”


Hermione grimaced. “Don’t call it that, Harry.”


“A double date?!” Ron’s face was almost as red as the strawberry jam on his plate. “Isn’t that sweet? A romantic little double date on Valentine’s Day. What could be more perfect?” Ron stood up from his seat angrily. “Well, I hope you have fun with Vicky then, Hermione.” Leaving the rest of his food untouched, he stalked out of the Great Hall.


Gaping after him like a goldfish, Hermione asked, “Isn’t he overreacting just a little?”


Draco saw Harry and Ginny exchange a knowing glance, as if they were fully aware of why their friend acted the way he did. And for some inexplicable reason, Draco seemed to understand exactly how Ron was feeling.

---

Feeling slightly upset following Ron’s anger departure, Hermione headed straight for the library to bury herself in research after breakfast. Needless to say, Draco was forced to go with her whether he liked it or not.


Satisfied with the huge stack of books that she had picked off random shelves, Hermione sat down and started looking through the first of the lot for material that could help her with her Transfiguration essay. Draco, who was in no mood to study, settled on reading a Quidditch handbook and reminiscing about the good, old days when he was able to play his favorite sport.


Just as Draco was getting very engrossed in a portion about the greatest feints ever performed, he heard a loud gasp from Hermione. The next thing he knew, she was gripping his arm so tightly that he was certain that she would leave bruises on his pale skin even through his sweatshirt.


“Will you let my arm go, Granger? I think the blood has stopped circulating there!” he snapped, earning himself a reproachful stare from Madam Pince.


“Malfoy, there’s something about the Love-Knot in here!” Hermione whispered urgently.


Draco’s eyes widened. “What?!”


“I was reading up on Alfred’s principle of…” When she saw the confused look on Draco’s face, she decided to use a different approach.


“Listen to this,” she said, pointing out a section of the large, leather-bound book she held in her hands, “Alfred Thomas Pedwiggle, one of the greatest wizards of his time, is well-known in the Wizarding community for his brilliant contributions to the study of Transfiguration and his discovery on some new properties of the Love-Knot, a magical entity that has baffled many great wizards through ages. Though his findings were not supported with sufficient evidence, his work on the Love-Knot was published in his autobiography, The Journal of Alfred Pedwiggle, and has formed an interesting basis for speculation even years after his death.”


“So all we need to do now is to look for his book.” Draco looked at the tall shelves that loomed around him. “Where do we start?”


“We could just ask Madam Pince,” Hermione suggested matter-of-factly.


They hurried over to the cranky librarian and asked her for a copy of Alfred Thomas Pedwiggle’s autobiography.


“It is out on loan,” she growled at them. “Won’t be back till the end of the month.”


Draco cursed under his breath. “Can you tell us who borrowed it?”


“That’s against library rules!” Madam Pince scolded shrilly, making a few nearby students start.


“Can we place it under reservation then?” Hermione asked politely, not wanting to aggravate her any further.


Madam Pince shoved a bit of parchment and a quill in Hermione’s hand. “Write down your name and the title of the book. You can come check whether it has been returned in three weeks times.”


Quickly scribbling down what was required, Hermione thanked the librarian and left the library with Draco for lunch.


“That women’s such an old grouch!” Draco exclaimed once they out in the corridors. “She should do us all a favor and marry Filch. Maybe that’ll lighten the both of them up.”


Hermione chuckled. “She’s not that bad. She’s just a little obsessive about books and doesn’t trust students with them, that’s all.”


“I still think she should marry Filch,” Draco grumbled and Hermione laughed again.


But her laughter soon faded when she saw someone walking towards them from the opposite direction. It was Simone.


“Fancy running into you again, Draco,” she flashed him a smile and gave Hermione a nod of acknowledgement.


“I guess it must be my lucky day,” Draco returned her smile, placing his hands on her waist.


Wincing, Hermione pretended to be very interested in the floorboards.


Draco pulled Simone close. “So where are you headed off to?”


Hermione noticed that the cracks on the floorboard directly in front of her joined together to form the shape of a leaf.


“I'm going to the library,” Simone held up a book in her hand. “To return my book.”


“All You Need to Know about the Divine Art of Divination,” Draco read the title aloud. “Fascinating. Would you like to show, I mean, tell me what you learnt?”


And if one stared at the cracks long enough, she was certain that a little flower appeared alongside the leaf.


“Not today,” Simone said, grinning slyly. “Maybe some other time.” She ran her hand through Draco’s silky blonde mane.


Hand Hermione a quill and some parchment, and she would probably draw you a picture of the floorboards beneath her feet in astounding detail purely by memory.


“Why not right now?” Draco asked, tracing her jaw line with a finger.


“All right, that’s about enough,” Hermione said briskly, peeling her eyes away from the ground. She was starting to get annoyed with their behavior. “Do save something for Valentine’s Day.”


Simone giggled and slipped out of Draco’s arms. “I better get going.”


“I’ll be seeing you around, Simone,” Draco said as the Ravenclaw girl continued on to the library.


“Couldn’t you find anyone else to ask out?” Hermione inquired, bitterness edged in her voice. “Honestly.”


“What’s wrong with her? She’s a looker and has a body to die for.” Draco smirked at the expression on Hermione’s face. Looks like someone was not entirely happy about his new acquaintance.


Hermione exhaled sharply. “Of course, how could I forget? That’s all you men want. Does it ever go beyond looks for you? Whether she has a good character, good intentions, and some brains wouldn't hurt either… Doesn’t any of that matter?”


Draco shrugged. “No, not particularly.”


“I should have known.”


Draco smiled inwardly at the insolent look on his companion’s face as they entered the Great Hall for the second time today. How he enjoyed having a go at her.


“Draco!” Pansy cried cheerfully when he sat next to her. “I was just thinking about you.”


“Really? How come?”


Pansy grinned, trying to act demure. “Silly, I knew you’d forget. Do you know what day is it a week from now?” She inched closer to Draco. “I’ll tell you. It’s Valentine’s Day.” She batted her eyelashes. “So, like last year, I was hoping we could go together. I don’t even mind if Granger here tags along. We’ll place a Silencing Charm on her,” she added in a whisper.


With glee, Hermione watched as the color drained from Draco’s face. Apparently, he was not very good at handling Miss Parkinson in such situations. He obviously was never one to incur her wrath.


“Well, Pansy, you see, I…I�””


“You haven’t told her, Malfoy?” Hermione interrupted Draco’s stammering, her eyes wide in feigned surprise. She was about to play this to her advantage.


Pansy narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Tell me what?”


“Malfoy already has a date,” Hermione answered, paying no attention to Draco’s expression of horror.


Pansy’s face changed into a nasty shade of green.


“What’s her name again?” Hermione pretended to take some time to think. “Oh yes, Simone, from Ravenclaw. Is that quite right, Malfoy?”


By this time, Pansy was breathing heavily, and if you looked carefully, you could almost certainly see the smoke that was escaping from her nose and ears with each breath. Livid would be an understatement.


“Now, look here Pansy, I can explain...”


Picking up a huge bowl of chocolate fudge, Pansy dumped it down Draco’s pants without a second thought and stomped out of the Hall.


Hermione tried to suppress the laughter that was forming at the back of her throat. “Oh dear,” she said, faking a look of shock. “I had no idea that you hadn’t told Pansy about your date yet, Malfoy.”


“Shut up, Granger,” Draco snarled as the other Slytherins who had witnessed Pansy’s rage chuckled silently. “Just shut up.”


“I guess that double date you were so fondly talking about doesn’t sound too bad now.”


Draco scowled at Hermione and cursed as he felt the fudge trickle down his leg. Damn, for a Gryffindor, she was good at this revenge thing.


I imagine Saint Valentine’s Day is going to be rather amusing this year, don’t you?

---

Author’s Note: Hi guys! I’m back! Got a couple of things to tell you… Firstly, the original title of this chapter was called Alfred Thomas Pedwiggle because I wanted to draw importance to poor Mister Pedwiggle. But I decided that didn't sound as good, so I changed it.

Secondly, I want to thank all those people who have recommended my story in the forum. I just recently discovered the things that go on there (because I'm slow like that), so a big THANK YOU to all the recommendations.

Thirdly, I have some bad news. I will be having exams from the 21st Nov- 30th Nov, so I’ll be banned from using the computer during this time (which idiot invented exams anyway??). That means no updates and responses to reviews until December! =( I'm really sorry guys, but it’s my mom’s policy. I can’t even sneakily try to use the computer because she’ll have a password on it. But, due to this long hiatus, I made this chapter extra long for all of you! Enjoy that!

I really hope you guys won’t vanish because of my disappearance. I hope to comeback and see all of you still supporting this little story. Thanks for understanding! And again, sorry for the inconvenience.