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!