Chapter 35- Break-Times
“Finally, someone had the decency to get me out of that Merlin-forsaken locker that reeked of dirty shoes and smelly socks! Blondie, you need to learn more about hygiene! And I thought all this time spent with Hermione would teach you something useful, do you some good. Obviously I was horribly mistaken…”
Yes, dear old Jinx was back from the Slytherin locker room.
“Who the bloody hell took you out?!” Draco exclaimed as Crabbe dropped the little ring onto Hermione’s palm one Wednesday afternoon outside the Arithmancy classroom.
“She was makin’ a lot of noise in the locker room while me and Goyle were clearin’ it up,” Crabbe informed his leader. “When we took her out, she shouted to be taken to Granger.”
Goyle poked his head from behind Crabbe. “She’s pretty darn scary,” he said, timidly. He did look frightened, which was a strange sight for person of his bulk and built.
“And just when I was getting a few weeks of peace…” Draco sighed.
“What did you say, Malfoy?! Well for your information,” Jinx seethed, “I was very much in peace without having you around while I was in that locker, but I was getting bored and missing Hermione, and the stench was getting pretty damn unbearable because a twit like you has no idea whatsoever about the concept of cleanliness!”
“All right you two, give it a rest!” Hermione interrupted before Draco had a chance to retort. “Sorry Jinx, I didn’t mean to leave you in there for so long. It’s just that with schoolwork, exams and tests and all, I completely forgot about getting you out of there.”
Jinx sniffed indignantly while Crabbe and Goyle gaped at the tiny ring in disbelief. They had never quite seen a ring like that apparently.
“Blondie, tell these two buffoons you call friends to stuff it!” Jinx scowled.
Without waiting for a word from Draco, Crabbe and Goyle scurried away.
“I'm extremely sorry Jinx,” Hermione apologized again.
Jinx sighed somewhat dramatically. “It’s quite all right Hermione,” she said. “I've just been worried, that’s all, about whether Blond Boy here has been giving too much trouble.”
“He wouldn't dare,” Hermione responded with an impish smile. “But honestly, Jinx, how have been? Was everything all right in that locker? I was””
“Yes, yes, all is fine and dandy,” Jinx cut Hermione short, her mood taking a complete turn. Apparently the mood ring was not too upset about being abandoned anymore. “So tell me, did I miss anything?”
Hermione frowned. “What do you mean, Jinx?”
“Oh you know, any more action between the two of you?” Jinx asked, smirking.
The two Heads’ exchanged looks. Action? Where do they begin…
Draco cleared his throat noisily, breaking his gaze with Hermione in the process. “Mood ring, there was no action, whatever the hell that means.”
“Oh come on,” Jinx urged, her eyebrows waggling up and down. “Nothing at all?”
“Jinx, don’t be ridiculous…” Hermione told the tiny ring on her hand, forcing a disbelieving laugh.
Jinx eyed the two Heads suspiciously. “Well, there’s only one way to find out if you're telling the truth or not, isn't it?”
Hermione knew quite well what was coming next. She knew the mood ring would ask to be put on Hermione’s finger.
Before Jinx could open her mouth, however, she found herself in the depths of Hermione’s pockets, her protests coming out in little muffled squeaks.
Draco threw Hermione a look, half relieved, half perplexed at her sudden gesture. What was it that Hermione was afraid Jinx would have found out?
In response, Hermione merely offered him a weak smile. “She does talk too much sometimes, doesn’t she?”
Jinx, it seemed, was going to remain in the dark (yet again) for a long time.
If Draco had previously thought Hermione was insane, there was no doubt in his mind that she had completely lost her marbles now as the N.E.W.Ts drew closer. He knew the exams were nearing and that they were extremely important, but Hermione seemed to take the definition of “studying” to a whole new level. The Heads’ dormitory was covered with progress charts and priority lists, courtesy of the Head Girl. It was not like the dorm looked messy or anything; it simply looked like it had acquired new wallpaper filled with graphs, tables and lists, all in Hermione’s handwriting (which, Draco had noted, was relatively neat).
Aside from discovering that Hermione was an absolute nutcase, Draco had also realized that she was rather generous, for all the wrong reasons. She had taken it upon herself to ensure that Draco spent most of his time studying too.
Well, not like he had much of the choice with the Love-Knot that was dangling between them.
“You do know that you’re making the competition stiffer for yourself, right?” Draco had told her haughtily one evening as they were studying in their dorm. “Namely, me?”
“That’s the idea, isn't it, Malfoy?” Hermione had retorted, her haughtiness matching his. “There isn't much fun in lackluster competition, is there?”
She then disappeared behind her fortress of books, leaving Draco gaping after her.
One evening, the two Heads were sitting in their common room, studying meticulously in the silence (the portraits were not in their frames). Well, at least one of them was studying. The other (no guesses who) was shifting around in his seat as though there were fire ants in his pants.
Hermione tried not to notice as Draco did a weird sort of jig in his seat. He fidgeted this way, then that way, shuffled his legs under the table and then re-adjusted his sitting position.
“That’s it! If I spend another hour studying, I am going to throw myself out of that window!” Draco exclaimed finally, throwing his quill down in frustration.
Hermione looked up from her Potions’ textbook. “I still have two hours more of work to complete. We’ve only been at it for five hours,” she said matter-of-factly, as if it was completely normal to have sat through five hours of continuous work.
“Only? Only?” Draco glared at Hermione as though she had just said something very offensive. “My legs feel like they’re rooted to the bloody carpet, and my back is stiff. For Merlin’s sake, I can’t even feel my arse anymore!”
“Oh come on Malfoy. I have to stick to my schedule.”
“Bollocks to your schedule Granger,” Draco scowled. “I'm going for a ride.” Slamming his books shut, he pushed his chair back and stood up forcefully. As he was about to walk though, his legs buckled without warning and he landed on the carpeted floor, gloriously on his already-numb backside.
Hermione failed miserably in suppressing her giggle. “And how are you going to go for a ride if you can’t even stand straight?”
Draco scowled at her remark. He tried to pull himself up, but toppled back down almost immediately. “This is your fault, you know? My legs feel like they need to get bloody amputated because I've been sitting for so long! Pins and needles, it’s bloody awful!”
Laughing, Hermione offered Draco her hand. Without so much as thinking twice, he took it and stood up, holding on to it until feeling returned to his leg. Then he removed his wand from his pocket and summoned his broomstick, which came hurtling into the common room.
“Malfoy, I can’t go for a ride!” Hermione protested. “I have to finish studying and it’s our N.E.W.Ts this year and I'm still a little nervous when it comes to flying and””
Before Hermione could complete her sentence, however, Draco had already dragged her out of the window on his broomstick.
There was that familiar sensation in the pit of Hermione’s stomach, like it had done a somersault before returning to its original position. As if on cue, she held on to Draco round the middle and closed her eyes, her muscles instinctively relaxing bit by bit.
“Come on Granger, I thought you’d be used to it by now,” Draco called over his shoulder. “Besides, I'm riding at snail speed. Open your eyes woman.”
“How did you my eyes were closed?” Hermione asked.
“I just know,” Draco shrugged. “Now be a Gryffindor and open your eyes. The view is pretty good.”
Slowly, Hermione opened one eye and then to other. Almost immediately, she shut them. Taking a deep breath and tightening her grip around Draco a little, she opened her eyes again. She cautiously looked at the scenery that passed them by.
Indeed, the view was awesome. The moon was in all its glory, hanging low like a crystal orb in the sky, framed by numerous stars. Clouds moved in the night breeze, which gently caressed the two riders as it passed.
“This is quite nice,” Hermione commented, allowing herself a small smile.
“It is, isn't it?” Draco said.
“Yes, it is.”
“But what if I do this?” Quite suddenly, Draco dipped the broom, causing Hermione to emit a scream. Her grasp around him tightened.
“That’s not funny!” she yelled, shivering slightly as Draco laughed to himself. “And that’s no way to treat a girl who’s risking her life to be on this broomstick with you!”
“Oh don’t be so melodramatic,” Draco smirked. “Besides, if you were actually a girl…”
Hermione pinched Draco’s rather taut tummy.
“Ouch! Would you let me finish?!” Draco snapped. “I was about to say that if you were actually a girl that I was taking on a date, then I’d treat you much better.”
“Ha! Somehow I doubt that,” Hermione scoffed. “You don’t really occur to me as the charming sort.”
Draco frowned at Hermione’s comments as he lowered the broom towards the Slytherin Quidditch stand. He let Hermione get off first, then dismounted himself. “I have swept quite a large number of girls off their feet, mind you,” he said indignantly as he sat down on one of the bleachers.
“In disgust, perhaps,” Hermione said, taking a seat next to the Head Boy.
Draco glared at Hermione. “You may find it hard to believe, but I am quite the charmer,” he said firmly.
“Well, I've yet to see this apparently charming side of yours then,” Hermione chuckled. “It certainly hasn’t manifested itself in my presence.”
“Now why would I want to charm you, of all people, Granger?” Draco asked, cocking his eyebrow.
“True,” Hermione agreed, “but let’s pretend you had to. How would you do it?”
Draco stared at her with an amused expression on his face. “Is this some kind of secret fantasy?”
Hermione narrowed her eyes. “It’s a challenge, Malfoy,” she corrected, knowing exactly what tactic to use to get Draco to bite the bait. “Pretend I'm at a pub, you didn’t know me and you were interested. How would you do it?”
Draco looked momentarily pensive. Then he leant into Hermione and said, “I cannot do this Granger, not with you. You're much too smart to fall for a cheesy pick-up line. Besides, I reserve my lines for a certain class of girls.”
Hermione looked visibly sickened. “Girls like Pansy Parkinson?”
Draco chuckled. “She didn’t need any pick-up lines, if you catch my drift.”
Finding Draco’s answer very believable indeed, Hermione could not help but laugh. “Well then, forgetting about Pansy, what’s the cheesiest pick-up you’ve used on a girl, Malfoy?” she asked, her laughter trailing off.
“What’s it to you?” Draco shot back, almost defensively.
Hermione hid a smile. “I was just curious. But if it’s simply too embarrassing to mention, then it’s quite all right.”
There was silence for a while. And then, rather grudgingly, Draco mumbled something.
Hermione frowned. “I didn’t quite catch that. Would you speak up please?”
“You must be a Chaser of a Quidditch team because you just scored yourself some Draco Malfoy tonight,” Draco repeated, his cheeks tinted with a slight red hue.
For a long while, Hermione knew not what to say or do. She simply stared at Draco, dumbfounded. Then, she broke into fits of uncontrollable laughter.
“It’s not that funny,” Draco sighed, making a face.
In response, Hermione laughed some more. “The poor girls who had to endure that!” she managed to say when her laughter finally subsided.
“Oh, shut it Granger,” Draco snarled. “You're just jealous that you've never had a bloke come up to you and try to hook you up.”
Instead of feeling offended however, Hermione chortled. “Trust me Malfoy, I've had blokes come up to me before, but never have they said anything so tacky.”
“That’s because they were all bookworms who had glasses and books thicker than their skulls,” Draco said, trying to shift the attention away from himself. “Their nose would be dribbling with snot and the only thing they’d be able to say to you through their snot is, ‘Cobe study wif me, Herbione’.”
“Draco Malfoy imitating snot-dribbling bookworms,” the Head Girl laughed. “I never thought I’d see this day.”
And Draco was back to being the butt of the joke. Damn, it just was not his day.
“Besides, I don’t think Viktor qualifies to be one, does he?” Hermione inquired, trying to sound as innocent as possible.
“It could be his alter-ego, you never know,” Draco retorted.
Hermione shook her head disbelievingly and chuckled. “You know, this is rather relaxing,” she commented. “And I cannot remember the last time I laughed so much. It does feel good to take a tiny break between studying.”
“Well I'm glad you see the goodness in letting your brain take it easy for a bit,” Draco said. “Honestly Granger, the way you study, it’s just plain scary. And seeing how hard you push the people around you, I'm surprised Potter and Weasley aren’t half as smart as you are.”
“Do you have to invariably sneak the two of them into the conversation every time?” Hermione said irritably. “Just leave them alone. They’re smart, in their own ways.”
Draco snorted. “Yeah right, they’re about as smart as”” Upon seeing the look Hermione shot him however, he stopped mid-sentence, choosing to be quiet instead.
They sat in the silence of the night, comforted by the mellow breeze that enveloped them. The Quidditch pitch lay in front of them, illuminated lightly by the moonlight. Crickets chirped in the distance, mingling with the many other sounds that accompanied the night. Occasionally, the Love-Knot would catch the rays of the moonlight and sparkle merrily, as if privy to some secret no one else knew of.
“I have a proposition for you, Granger,” Draco said, breaking the stillness of the night.
“And what is that?” Hermione asked curiously, hugging her knees close to her chest.
“Considering how you've been slave-driving me all month, commanding me to study through ungodly hours and what not,” Draco paused and Hermione stared at him intently, “I suggest that we take a break every now and then, every few hours. Not a very long one” I'm determined to study too, mind you” but long enough to allow our brains some rest before they explode into millions of tiny pieces.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yours might, but mine certainly will not.”
“That’s not even the point, Granger,” Draco said. “The point is, a break once in a while will do me, do us, some good. What do you say to that?”
After some contemplation (probably calculating how breaks would affect her overall study-time), Hermione relented. “All right, I guess a short break once in a while wouldn't hurt.”
“Well, thank Merlin you saw the light,” Draco sighed with relief. “If I had to spend another eight hours sitting on that chair without a breather, there’d be a high probability that my arse would become permanently numb by the end of the term.”
“Oh don’t be so dramatic.”
The two Heads spent the next hour chit-chatting, quite enjoying the verbal sparring that was included in most of their conversation. After that, they mounted Draco’s broom and headed back to the dormitory for a bit of revision (upon Hermione’s insistence) before heading off to bed.
A sort of routine was established between the Head Boy and Girl. After lessons ended for the day, the two would have a quick lunch (Hermione would literally slurp her food down), and then rush off to the common room (no, not the library) to spend the rest of the day studying there. They would study for the rest of the day, and then take a couple of breaks in between, before retiring into the bedroom for some sleep.
Their friends hardly saw them, except during mealtimes. But even then, their meetings were short and abrupt. Harry and Ron, though familiar with Hermione’s staunch and frightening schedules during exam periods, were not entirely comfortable with her spending so much of time in the Heads’ common room with Draco.
“Oh come on, the two of you,” Ginny had scoffed at them during lunch one time after Hermione had left with Draco, “you're being ridiculous. I actually almost feel pity for Malfoy for having to deal with her every minute of the day during the exam period. You both know how scary she gets.”
Pansy, on the other hand, simply hated the thought of the two of them spending so much time alone together, and she made that quite obvious. Unfortunately for her, Hermione, and hence Draco, did not have much time to take any notice of her or her attitude.
And then we have Lucius Malfoy, who was oblivious to any of the events between the two Heads. Narcissa Malfoy had insisted on a trip to Italy once they had gotten back from France, so Malfoy senior had no choice but to take her there. Quite miraculously, he had found time in between his wife dragging him around for sightseeing and shopping to pay a visit to the two Heads a couple of times, but the conclusion of their conversations had always been the same: No progress.
Or so Lucius thought.
Break-times came to be, quite surprisingly, something both Hermione and Draco secretly looked forward to. They spent much of the time talking (or arguing, however you want to see it) or taking a ride on Draco’s broom to the Quidditch stands, where they would talk some more.
Conversations are wonderful things really. You get to learn so much about a person through a simple exchange of words. Like how Draco had learnt all about S.P.E.W. Like how Hermione had learnt all about how it felt like being a ferret.
One evening, when it was time for yet another break, Draco suggested a game of Wizards’ chess instead of a broom ride, especially since the portraits were not around (they were seldom around these days, to allow Draco and Hermione more quiet time to study).
“How is it that you have a chess-set made of gemstones?” Hermione asked, watching in disbelief as Draco emptied the glittering pieces onto the coffee-table in front of the fireplace.
Draco thought back to the time he had promised his father to make “progress” with Hermione in return for a chess-set made entirely of gems. “My father bought it for me when I asked, that’s all,” he replied, not exactly lying, but not telling the truth either.
“You have an awful lot of money lying around the house to spend it on something like a gemstone chess-set?” Hermione asked rhetorically.
“I guess you could say that,” Draco said snootily, not catching Hermione’s eye-roll. He started laying out the chess pieces on the board, but eventually, the pieces themselves began marching across the board, not keen on being man-handled. “I have to warn you, I have an exceptional gift in chess.”
Hermione sat down on the comfortable chair, crossing her legs underneath the table. “Well then, you might have met your match,” she said, with an air of confidence. “I have had years of practice with Ron and Harry.”
“You mean the Weasel can actually afford a chess-set?” Draco chortled, his gray eyes sparkling with dry amusement as he took a seat across Hermione.
“Will it ever be possible for you to not insult my friends?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow in question.
“No,” Draco replied, apparently enjoying the scowl on the Head Girl’s face. “Never.”
“I presumed as much,” Hermione sighed.
“What do you see in Weasley anyway?” Draco questioned, trying to sound nonchalant.
Furrowing her brows, Hermione stared at Draco. “What do you mean by that?” she asked in return. “Pawn to D-4,” she added, seeing that the chessboard was set up. She was white, and white always started first.
Draco instructed one of his pawns to move as well. “I mean, what is it in that blundering buffoon that you find so appealing?”
“I do not find Ron appealing in any way!” Hermione jumped to her defense. “How many times do I have to tell you, Malfoy? I don’t like Ron in that way! Why do you insist on linking him up with me?”
“All right, all right,” Draco held his hands up in mock surrender. “I get it, Granger. You don’t fancy Weasel. What about Potter then?”
Hermione contorted a face. “No way!”
“It’s your move by the way.”
There was a pause in the discussion (or argument, again depending on your perspective) as Hermione ordered her knight to move forward.
“So, who do you fancy then, Granger?” Draco wondered, again trying to act indifferent. “Knight to C-6.”
There was the briefest flicker of curiosity in Draco’s eyes that did not go unnoticed by Hermione. “I don’t fancy anyone, Malfoy. Is it that so hard for you to believe?” She commanded another pawn forward.
Shrugging, Draco watched Hermione’s pawn thrash his off the chessboard. “Strange, I was certain you fancied me.” He smirked and urged another of his chess piece forward.
“Quit flattering yourself,” Hermione rolled her eyes at him and at the same time tried to hide the small smile that threatened to form on her lips. “No girl in her right mind would fancy you.”
Draco made a clucking sound with his tongue. “The girls from Slytherin beg to differ.”
“I can think of many aspects in which they beg to differ,” Hermione snorted. “Pawn to A-3.”
“Hypothetically speaking then, if you did want to fancy a bloke, what would he be like? Or, as you girls like to say, how would your perfect man be like?” He gagged slightly at his own chose of words.
“Aren’t you awfully interested in my life today, Malfoy? In fact, lately, you seem to enjoy talking about my life more often than not.”
“It makes for interesting conversation to kill time.”
Hermione merely threw him a look. She was used to his wisecracks by now. But since he was asking…
“Well, he’d have to be intelligent for one,” she blurted, and then wondered why she was answering his stupid questions in the first place. She earned herself a look from Draco that clearly read, ‘Well, I'm not surprised.’
“Quick-witted,” she went on, ignoring his expression, “and a good sense of humor. He would have to be caring and just, treating everyone as an equal. Honesty is important to me as well and so is unconditional love. As a person, he would have to be independent, dignified and confident of himself. Good-looks would be an added bonus.”
“Sounds like you're describing me, Granger.”
“Really now? Funny, I don’t remember saying arrogant, self-righteous, insufferable and spoilt.”
Draco scowled. “We’ll see who will be having the last laugh if your parents ever arrange your marriage to someone like me.”
“Don’t be silly, Malfoy. That would never happen. Besides, isn’t the whole concept of arranged marriages long dead? From what I know, it used to be very popular in the Wizarding World in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, but the generation nowadays has a totally different notion to marriage. Arranged marriages have been rendered obsolete.”
“I wouldn't be too sure of that. Arranged marriages are still very much prevalent among the purebloods. To encourage the maintenance of the pureblood lineage, most pureblood witches and wizards have their marriages fixed at a very young age.”
“I guess your father’s the only exception to that then. Quite the contrary, he’s trying to arrange your marriage with a muggleborn.”
“Father has reasons that I'm sure you're well aware of.”
“Too much so.”
“But imagine if your marriage was indeed fixed with someone like me.” Draco glanced down at the Love-Knot. “Hell, at the rate we’re going with this thing, it’s not that hard to imagine, is it?”
Hermione sighed. “Unfortunately not.”
“But I digress,” Draco sat back in his chair with a smile, chess game forgotten. This was much more interesting. “Pretend a girl, much like yourself, had to get married to a bloke, quite like me. Let’s give the said girl and boy each a name. Avia and Zarek.”
“Avia and Zarek?!” Hermione stared at him incredulously. “What kind of names are those?”
Rolling his eyes, Draco sighed, “They’re made-up people with made-up names. Do you even understand the concept of pretend?”
Hermione narrowed her honey-brown eyes at him. “Oh, OK. But if we, I mean, if Avia and Zarek were ever to have children, you're definitely not going to name them.”
“All right, fine. Moving on. How do you think life would be like for them?”
“Well if Zarek’s father is anything like yours, Avia would not want to live with him.”
“Hey, what’s wrong with my father?!” Draco snapped, rising up from his seat in defense of Malfoy Senior.
Hermione cocked an eyebrow. “He’s trying to get us married. Need I say more?”
“Good point,” Draco agreed, slumping back down. “So then, Avia and Zarek will live in a big mansion somewhere in Scotland.”
“A big mansion in Scotland?” Hermione crinkled her nose in distaste. “Avia was thinking more along the lines of a small cottage house in Switzerland.”
“A small cottage?” This time, it was Draco’s turn to look repulsed. “In case you didn’t know, Zarek is rather affluent. Nothing less than a mansion would do for him.”
“Well if Zarek wants this marriage to work, he’ll jolly well have to learn how to compromise and accommodate,” Hermione intoned, narrowing her eyes once again.
Draco exhaled sharply. “Fine, then what about a modest terrace-house in the suburbs of London?”
“Sounds perfect,” Hermione smiled.
The chess pieces tapped their little feet impatiently on the chess board, oblivious to the fact that they had been long forgotten.
“And children?” Draco queried.
“Oh, I would love children!” Hermione gushed in response.
“I'm not totally in love with the idea of little brats running amok in my house, drooling all over me and wrecking my furniture, but if you're insistent on them, I guess we could have one.”
“One? I was thinking more along the lines of three or four.”
“Who do you think we are? The Weasleys?”
“Malfoy!”
“Oh all right, all right. Compromise and all that rubbish. We’ll settle at two?”
“Three,” Hermione pushed the boundaries a little. “One boy and two girls.”
“Three it is then. I guess it would be difficult to keep you off me.” Draco smirked.
Hermione threw a cushion at him. “Shut it, Malfoy.” She grinned despite herself.
“What would you name them?”
“Kelvin, Trisha and Calista.”
“Leo,” Draco said suddenly. “The boy will be Leo.”
Hermione looked stunned. “You actually managed to come up with a decent name. I like it.”
Leaning across the table, Draco pondered something for a moment. The chess pieces had taken to sitting down on the chess board, pretty certain now that they were no longer needed. “And we’ll have a dog,” he said finally, causing a few of the pawns to fall over in fright. “A bloodhound.”
The Head Girl did not look too pleased with the idea of a bloodhound. “I suppose we could, but it’ll have to get along with my cat.”
“You want a cat?”
“I already have one,” Hermione corrected. “Crookshanks. He’s back home. My mother grew rather fond of him and insisted on having him stay with her while I attend school.”
“Crookshanks? And you accuse me of giving bad names.”
“What’s wrong with Crookshanks? I bet you were going to name your dog something stupid.”
“I would name him Andros.”
“After Andros the Invincible.”
“Yes, and I’ll make sure that Andros chases Crookshanks around the house and gets a good bite out of him once in a while,” Draco leaned forward a little more, his eyes challenging.
Hermione gave him an ‘oh-no-you-don’t’ smile and grabbed him by his collar. “If your dog dares to get a bite out of my cat, I’ll make sure he sleeps outside my house together with you.”
“Oh come one, what kind of wife would do that to her husband?”
“I would.”
“You would really want your husband to sleep in the cold?”
“Well, you would have to choose who you love more then; me or the dog?”
“Then I’d choose the dog. Hands down.”
“Malfoy!”
Draco chuckled. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot, woman. Of course I’d choose you.”
The impact of Draco’s words caused a silence so cavernous in the common room that if one listened close enough, one could hear Jinx complaining from the drawer in Hermione’s bedroom.
Eye-contact was maintained for the longest time until Hermione finally looked away, choosing instead to glance at the chess-pieces. She shifted in her seat uneasily and Draco cleared his throat.
“Well,” Draco said, his voice inexplicably hoarse, “that was bloody scary.”
Hermione’s head snapped up and she focused her gaze on him again. “What?” she asked, frowning. “Scary?”
“Well yeah. We quite nearly planned our future together, isn’t it?” Draco forced a laughed, trying to hide his obvious embarrassment. “That is quite bloody scary.”
Hermione joined in the feigned laughter, praying that the heat she was feeling on her face had not manifested itself in a blush. “Yes, scary, indeed.”
The laughter ended as abruptly as it started and again, the common room was filled with silence, broken only by the arrival of the portraits.
“…And I tell you Salazar, that look on his face was worth seeing!” Godric Gryffindor chuckled merrily, taking a seat back down in his frame.
“I'm sure it was,” Salazar Slytherin responded, looking as bored as usual.
It took the portraits a moment to realize that something was amiss with the two Heads.
“Why so quiet?” Salazar Slytherin asked loudly, staring from one Head to the other. “Someone died?”
“Salazar! Would it kill you to be less morbid?” Godric scolded. “Is something the matter, Hermione?”
“Oh no, no, nothing at all,” Hermione tried to smile. “We were just, err… We were just…”
“Playing chess,” Draco completed for her. “A simple game of Wizards’ chess. That’s all.”
“Chess, that’s right,” Hermione repeated. “We were playing chess. And now,” she stood up abruptly, “we should get back to work.”
“Work, that’s right,” Draco agreed, following Hermione’s lead. “We should really get back to it.”
“Yes, we should,” Hermione confirmed.
The two students stood around for a while, as if unsure of what to do next.
“Aren't you two going to get on with work then?” Salazar questioned, eyeing them curiously.
“Yes, work, of course,” Hermione laughed nervously. “We should really get on with that, Malfoy.”
“Yes, we should,” Draco nodded and both of them quickly headed to the main study table.
Once out of earshot, Salazar rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Why do I get the feeling that we missed something very important, Godric?” he whispered.
“I know what you mean, Salazar,” Godric whispered back. “And I do feel it was something big.”
From the distance, the two founders watched the Heads. Neither could quite place their finger on it, but it was quite obvious that something had happened between the two students in their absence.
In fact, strangely enough, you could almost see the tiniest spark fly between them. Almost.
The Unseemly Proposal by sparx
Chapter Notes: Here's another one for my dear readers who have always been there to support me, despite me being a terrible terrible author most of the time. =)