Upon returning to their Common Room that evening, Hermione hurriedly made a mad dash for her dorm. Draco snickered as he watched the back of her frizzy brown head disappear behind her bedroom door.
Lazily he stretched his arms over his head and sighed heavily, yawning as he made his way over to his own private dormitory. As Draco passed his bed, he tossed his school robe onto it and kicked off his shoes. Draco then removed his tie as he padded across the plush carpet and into the marble-tiled bathroom.
He took a long, hot shower and slipped into fresh clothes--for it would be 8 hours before he and Granger were separated again. He hated sleeping in his robes; this spell that Dumbledore placed upon them was really getting to him! Draco looked at his sullen reflection silently; it was only the first day! What would their remaining time together look like for him?
He climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin; he knew he’d have a difficult time getitng to sleep, but the thought of Granger being just as annoyed about this whole thing made him feel a little better.
He dreamed of a green-haired Granger holding a large cat who sang about Muggle candy, while McGonagall and Peeves chased them down the hall--chucking spoons at them along the way.
The next morning, Draco woke with a start; a sudden tug at his side indicated that his temporary reprieve was soon coming to an end. Defiantly, Draco moved to the bathroom, hoping to get his last break in beforehe was attached to Granger once more. But it was not to be; the tug became more insistant, causing Draco to grip the rim of the white marble sink. He sneered; he would not go back willingly to Granger's side.
As he clutched the basin, Draco's arms began to quiver violently and the suggestive tug became an outright pull; it quickly became a battle of wills in which Draco was desperate to win.
However, the spell had other plans for the Head Boy; Draco's limbs went numb and he fell to the floor with a loud and painful thump. He involuntarily stiffened as though falling victim to a body-bind, then was unceremoniously dragged--by an unseen hand--across the cold stone floor, over the soft carpeting, and out into the Common Room.
Instantaneously, he was reminded of his foray into the boundaries of the Shrieking Shack back in his third year. He had been terrified then, but now he was just bloody angry!
Draco couldn't even curse properly when he saw Hermione's amused face staring down at him after he came to a halt at her feet.
"Good morning! I knew you'd try that," she sniffed haughtily. "I must admit that I was also tempted to resist, but I just knew Professor Dumbledore would do something like that." She nodded at Draco's prostrate form lying helplessly on the floor; the only thing he could do was glare at her.
Another minute passed painfully for Draco until he was able to regain control of his body. Crookshanks took this time to lay across Draco's forehead and shove his bottle-brush tail under the blonde boy's nose. Hermione giggled, but promptly shooed her cat away; she didn't want Draco attempting to throttle her beloved feline because of its antics.
When he was finally free, Draco leapt to his feet and wobbled a bit, grasping the arm of a nearby overstuffed chair for support. Almost immediately, Hermione yelped; she was crudely shoved back to Draco's side as though each had magnets under their skin.
“Can we try to get to a class?--as painlessly as possible?”
“Please?”
“Please what?” Draco looked confused for a moment.
“You forgot to say it; say ‘please’.”
“Bloody hell,” Draco grumbled; Granger was so annoying!
This became the norm for the next fourteen days and nights; Draco and Hermione would separate right after their patrols, sleep apart, then the next morning Draco would resist and suffer a near-paralyzing attack, only to be roughly attached to the Head Girl once again.
Hermione seemed to deal with the situation better than most expected; she was seen--by several students--chatting to Draco whilst he just frowned or rolled his eyes. Many believed Draco Malfoy absolutely hated being magically joined with Hermione Granger. They were correct in some ways, but what they didn't know was Draco's sour mood stemmed mostly from his worry over his parents' reactions to his situation--and Hermione was actually talking out loud to herself.
Neither had ever received a Howler, though Draco seemed to expect one; every morning Hermione felt him stiffen beside her at breakfast as they watched the daily post arrive. And each time nothing out of the ordinary came. Both received copies of The Daily Prophet every day, and once Hermione had gotten a letter from her cousin in Cornwall, but neither got the dreaded Howler.
*~*~*~*~*
Someone else, however, did receive one: Ginny Weasley. It was a rainy Friday morning, and the Great Hall was somewhat quiet; many students were too tired of talking about ‘Dramione’, so kept their heads bent over their plates as they ate.
However, twenty minutes after the last of the sausages arrived on the tables, a strange noise above their heads caused nearly everyone to look up.
Many gasped when Errol, the sad, old Weasley family owl, heaved himself through the open window in the Great Hall and crashed into poor Neville Longbottom as he sat quietly talking to Susan Bones from Hufflepuff. The red-haired girl stumbled over to help the owl and bit back a cry when she saw what was clutched in its beak. Gingerly, she retrieved the scarlet envelope and steeled herself for the worst.
It wasn't long in coming; Mrs. Weasley's shrill voice promptly echoed throughout the Great Hall:
"GINEVRA WEASLEY! DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING IT IS TO RECEIVE A NOTE FROM THE HEADMASTER ABOUT YOUR CONDUCT? I AM EXTREMELY DISAPPOINTED IN YOUR BEHAVIOR! DO NOT BE A REPEAT OFFENDER OR STRAIGHT HOME YOU'LL COME! DON'T MAKE ME SEND ANOTHER OF THESE MESSAGES AGAIN!"
With that, the paper ripped itself into shreds, then burst into flaming nothingness.
"Well, Mum was in a good mood; that was much nicer than my Howler," Ron commented loudly for all to hear. Everyone broke into nervous giggles; Ron had received an awful Howler from Molly Weasley in his second year at Hogwarts for flying--then crashing--his father's bewitched Ford Anglia onto school grounds. No one had ever seen a Howler like that since--until now; Ginny's had come quite close.
Several students--including Hermione--looked at Ginny and wondered what the freckled girl could have done to receive such a scathing note. Did Ginny tell a teacher off? Had she trekked into the Dark Forest? Was she out of bed after curfew? The Great Hall was rife with speculation.
Hermione thought about the last statement a moment. It couldn't have been that, she told herself with a small shake of her head. Ginny doesn't have a boyfriend; she's still hung up on Harry. So why would she be out of bed--if not to meet a boy?
Suddenly, Hermione remembered the other evening; someone had been out of bed that night--the night Peeves went crazy on the 6th floor. It wasn't Ginny, was it? Hermione wondered silently, looking at her friends seated at the Gryffindor table; Ginny's face was ashen as Harry and Ron teased her.
Hermione had originally thought it had been Pansy Parkinson out in the hallway, but she and Draco quickly discovered Professor Dumbledore waiting for them. But what if it had been Ginny? a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind.
"Forget it," Hermione muttered under her breath; Draco made no comment. The only way Ginny could've gotten around that night was if she'd been invisi--
She stopped; the only person who could've been invisible was Harry. Or Ron. Or both. No one but Harry, Ron, Snape, Dumbledore, and herself knew about the Invisibility Cloak. And that list seems to grow a little more each year, she thought with a hollow laugh, glaring at Harry and Ron.
She was almost certain now that one or both boys had been under the invisibility cloak that night, though Hermione had originally boasted that she believed a girl--Pansy Parkinson--had been lurking around. The Head Girl cringed inwardly; she hated feeling unsure of anything and mentally braced herself for the moment Draco pointed out how wrong she'd been.
Hermione looked over at Draco; he was sitting very still and looking down at his lap. His jaw was rigid and his eyes were hardened. "What in the...?" Hermione muttered, stretching her neck a bit to see what Draco was looking at.
As if suddenly remembering he wasn't alone, Draco's eyes snapped to Hermione's face. "What's your problem?" he demanded roughly, his left hand jerking out of sight.
"Malfoy," she began, ignoring his harsh tone, "what's that you got there?"
Draco glared at Hermione. "Haven't you ever heard of the saying 'Curiosity killed the cat'?" Without waiting for a reply, he continued with a small sneer: "What I do on my time is none of your bloody business, Granger."
"My, my. What's the twitchy little ferret trying to hide?" Hermione asked sarcastically, quickly covering her slight embarrassment at being spoken to in such a tone. "Is dear Mummy cutting off your allowance?"
In response, Draco growled and shoved Hermione's plate of eggs and bacon to the floor. The entire Great Hall fell silent as the resounding clang echoed throughout the room.
The Head Boy suddenly jumped to his feet and angrily strode out of the Great Hall, dragging the Head Girl with him; he either did not hear her loud protests or was pointedly ignoring them.
Ron and Harry had stood up, outraged, but Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas held them back. The Gryffindors watched helplessly as the joined pair disappeared from view. The Great Hall immediately exploded with conversation; everyone wanted to know just what was going on between Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"That was completely embarrassing," Ginny Weasley complained to Luna Lovegood later that evening as they met in the Entrance Hall before their detention. She had been mortified down to her toes over the Howler. Thank Merlin her mother hadn't mentioned specifics, or Ginny would've really gotten into hot water with Hermione.
Detention this evening was sure to be interesting; so far every night had been in some small way. Professor Dumbledore, having caught them under the invisibility cloak a few nights previous, understood their wanting to help Hermione; however, he told them, the Head Girl and Boy needed to help themselves first. He then politely informed Ginny and Luna that first they were to return to their dorms--with Ginny giving Harry's cloak back--then they would be joining him for four nights worth of detentions doing various odd jobs.
The first night, the girls had to polish all of the trophies in the Trophy Room, the second night they filed all of Professor Binns' test papers--a process that took nearly four hours, as he hadn't filed any papers since his death, and the third night Ginny and Luna had to write lines on the history of Dungbombs. This evening, their last, was sure to be one they wouldn't forget.
Luna shrugged and pulled an eagle quill from her blonde lock. "I wasn't mortified at all." She began to scribble some notes on a spare piece of parchment she’d extracted from her school robe. "Honestly, Ginevra, I don't know what all the fuss is about." She placed the quill and parchment back into their original places.
Ginny growled in frustration, startling three first year Ravenclaws who were strolling past. "Get a move on!" she grunted at them. "Bloody first years," Ginny muttered under her breath. "You'd think they never saw a person angry before."
"I think your Howler had something to do with that," Luna said serenely. "Pity."
"Pity? PITY?" Ginny's voice grew loud. She lowered it immediately, spying Professor McGonagall glaring at her as the formidable witch glided past. "How dare you pity me!" she whispered angrily at Luna. "If you had just told me what I wanted to know we might not have had to go sneaking around the school at night!"
"How do you suppose you would have separated Hermione and Draco without their notice?" Luna asked, her eyes widening slightly with curiousness. "I'd hardly describe the last few nights with Professor Dumbledore and one tiny Howler as being in real trouble, anyway."
"Tiny Howler?" Ginny gasped. "Were you even in the same room as the rest of us this morning at breakfast?”
Luna laughed as she recited the password to ascend to the Headmaster’s office. "Don't be silly," she replied lightly, climbing the steps that suddenly appeared. "Of course I was! Don't you remember saying hello to me? Anyway, you really ought to look to yourself, Ginevra; all of this could have been avoided had you carefully explained the situation to me in the first place. As hard as I try, I am not a mind reader, you know." The Ravenclaw knocked on the heavy wooden door at the end of the hallway.
Grudgingly, Ginny admitted Luna was right; the Gryffindor really did not have anyone to blame but herself for the situation she was in; however, the redhead made a mental note to tell Harry that his stupid cloak didn't work properly.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Don't tell me you're tired already," Draco drawled, upon their return to the Common Room after evening patrols; it was the first time he'd spoken civilly to her since his outburst in the Great Hall. "Don't you have to write fifteen rolls of parchment for McGonagall or something?"
Hermione had been a little disconcerted through the day, as she was mere inches from him and yet he said nothing to her. Was that a good thing? she wondered. Hermione wasn't certain; she enjoyed the silence and didn't miss his scathing remarks, but part of her was hoping he'd say something--anything--to break the awkward silence.
Ironically, she chose to ignore the remark. "Peeves was particularly naughty this evening," she murmured, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the box of candy. "I wonder where all of that blue ink came from?"
"Who cares?" Draco shrugged, taking two from Hermione and popping them into his mouth. "He didn't dump it on us, so why worry?"
Hermione shot Draco a surprised look as they separated. "And I suppose seeing those two Ravenclaw third years doused in ink was amusing?"
"Let me think..." Draco tapped his chin. "Yes?"
"You're horrid."
"Can you blame me, Granger?" Draco snorted, loosening his tie. "They were out of bed past curfew and snogging behind a statue! If that's not asking for trouble--"
Hermione cut him off. "You'd just taken 10 points from them! Peeves had no right!" Her eyes flashed angrily.
"Peeves had every right!" Draco shot back, removing his school robe and flinging it--hard--across the room. "I say he didn't do enough!"
"Oh? Why is that?"
"A pureblood lowers himself by kissing a mudblood," Draco replied sourly. "That boy deserved more than we gave him."
"I suppose being Death Eater isn't lowering?" Hermione asked quietly, her temper rising.
"What do you know about being pureblood or a Death Eater?" Draco snapped, kicking his shoes off savagely. "You're just a girl who delights at playing a witch."
Hermione placed her hand on her hip, and craned her neck around to give him her meanest glare. "I know that being a Death Eater means losing your sense of self--and that killing becomes a sport for those who follow V-Voldemort!"
Draco flinched slightly upon Hermione's brave use of the Dark Lord's name, but he quickly recovered and shouted, "My father is not like that!" His face flamed red, indicating he was either very angry--or very embarrassed.
"I wasn't talking about your father," Hermione replied softly, placing her hand on his shoulder.
"Of course not," Draco said suddenly, shrugging her off; his voice sounded oddly like he'd eaten gobs of spun sugar. "I don't know what came over me." He then stomped off toward his chamber. He needed a shower badly; Granger was making him get all worked up over something so bloody ridiculous!
He was taken aback momentarily when he caught sight of her sad face just before he slammed his bedroom door behind him. What was the matter with her? he wondered, stomping away. She was acting like she cared!
~*~*~*~*~*~
Fourteen days.
Draco didn't want to think about it, but he and Hermione had been stuck together for nearly fourteen long and difficult days.
Neither had figured out a way to free themselves from the wretched curse placed upon them by Hogwarts' Headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore. They only thing Draco and Hermione had accomplished was to bicker like two old witches over the last copy of Lockhart's Magical Me on a shelf in Flourish and Blotts.
Draco had grown quite tired of sleeping like a animal on the floor of their Common Room. He was disgusted by the short break once a day to take care of personal matters and sickened by the stares and laughter from his Slytherin house mates.
He was most especially worried about that letter he received from his father.
"It has come to my attention that you have been fraternizing with a Mudblood; I certainly hope that this rumor is untrue and that someone has misidentified Miss Parkinson..."
How could anyone mistake Granger for Pansy Parkinson? Draco scoffed inwardly. One was so much more beautiful and poised than the other...
Although, he noted wryly, Pansy--as of late--had refrained from making anymore cruel comments since the day Weasleby made her lose her hair.
The Slytherin girl, who always fawned over Draco and was a favorite in his parents' household, was now giving him wide berth, though she still seemed to be in nearly every place he looked. Was she watching him in order to get more information to pass along to the other Slytherins, or was she jealous in some twisted way?
At this moment, Draco didn't care; Pansy had proven herself unworthy of his attentions when she turned her back on him after his father's second arrest. What would Father think about that? Draco wondered with a scowl.
He noticed Pansy had also taken to avoiding Ron Weasley, even though Madame Pomfrey had given Pansy a potion to correct her premature hair loss.
Draco smiled in the darkness, then scolded himself. The gangly redhead had not been defending him--certainly not the son of his father's enemy--from Pansy Parkinson; Weasleby had upheld Granger's honor.
Granger's honor, he scoffed silently. Yeah, right.
A small part of him had to admit that Hermione had been able to uphold her own honor. Wasn't Thursday's spectacle proof enough that the Head Girl could take care of herself? Draco's thoughts strayed back to that embarrassing moment...
Three first year Slytherins had set off Dungbombs in the Entrance Hall right after dinner; Hermione had scolded them and docked them ten points a piece, before Argus Filch had rounded them up and carted them off to see Professor Snape. Draco, feeling obligated to save face in the eyes of his Slytherin comrades, haughtily informed Hermione that they shouldn't have any points taken away.
"They're new students and probably didn't know the rules," he'd argued, crossing his arms.
"Is that so?" Hermione had shot back, as a small crowd had begun to gather around them. "How very interesting, since Professor Dumbledore warned everyone of the rules just two weeks ago--and one of those first years was in trouble yesterday for the same offense!"
"Your curls must be wound too tight," Draco had informed her with a sneer. "None of those students got into trouble yesterday."
"Of course they did, you stupid little ferret! Youwere the one who took five points from him last night! Or are you so thick that you can't remember?"
The giggling from the gawking crowd enveloped Draco and caused instant mortification. "How was it that he didn't remember something so simple?" someone whispered loudly. "Had Malfoy really forgotten or was he hoping that Granger would stand by meekly and not say anything, therefore making him look better?"
Draco had gone red in the face with embarrassment; he tried to dash off to hide his abashment, but Hermione had proved too quick for him; she'd already whipped out her wand and placed a temporary Sticking Charm on her shoes. Draco jerked to a halt, turned and glared at the Head Girl; obviously she learned quickly that the Head Boy took flight when embarrassed and had grown tired of being dragged off--at the worst times--like an dog.
The shrieks of laughter and clapping at this scene burned Draco's ears. The loudest guffaws and cheering had come from Potter and Weasley, who'd doubled over and had needed support from Longbottom.
I'll fix them, Draco swore silently to the darkness. They'll wish they'd never laughed at me.
At that moment, Draco noticed two house elves near the fireplace. Draco quickly closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He knew from watching them over the last few nights, that one would stoke the dying fire and the other would straighten the Head Girl and Boy's rooms.
He saw the looks of pity on the house elves faces when they passed his bed. How dare they pity him--a Malfoy! House elves shouldn't feel sympathy; they should know fear!
One stooped down to pick up a stray sock, but immediately lifted its head to look at Draco. Even through his lashes, Draco could see the wide-eyed gaze of the little house elf upon him. He held his breath momentarily, waiting to see what would happen next.
To his relief, nothing further occurred. The house elf turned away and continued going about its business. After their work was complete, the elves vanished as quietly as they had arrived.
He groaned and threw one hand over his eyes. It was just before dawn on the fifteenth day--Saturday. He was extremely tired, but he couldn't sleep; how could he? Draco was about to be attached to a Mudblood whom he despised--someone who was best friends with Scarhead and Weasle--two people he liked even less than Hermione.
Wait, Draco thought suddenly, does this mean I...like Granger...if--if only a little? His stomach churned at the thought. Bloody hell; I think I may be ill.
He was finding it easy to hate her because of her hair, choice of friends, and parentage. Certainly she defied him at nearly every turn, made him crazy with her incessant ramblings on schoolwork--and her attempts to speak to her blasted friends just wasn't his cup of tea--yet sometimes she stood up for him or tried to carry on a decent conversation, despite the fact that he ignored her or insulted her.
Was the Head Girl trying to be friendly because of the situation they were in? Perhaps she was going mad. What if there were another reason? Draco wondered silently.
It was in that brief moment Draco realized that he had been going about this unfortunate circumstance all wrong; he should use this situation to his advantage. Being nice to the Mudblood suddenly seemed like an interesting idea--despite the revolted feeling lurking in the pit of his stomach.
Oh, the possibilities, Draco thought with a slow smile, looking down on Hermione's sleeping form. Father may not like it at first, but I'm almost certain it won't take him long to.... Draco's thoughts trailed off as he reached for his schoolbag. But first things first; what I need is a really good spell.
~*~*~*~*~*~
She was dreaming.
Viktor Krum was sitting on her bed. Ron and Harry were in the room also and told her to get some sleep--they were going to rest on the floor. Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but no sound came out. Viktor smiled at her and leaned forward for a kiss, but instantly turned into Draco Malfoy! Suddenly, she was sitting on top of Draco and kissing him, not caring that her two best friends were just feet away...
At that moment, Lucius Malfoy appeared in the doorway, looking affronted, but Draco tells him, "It's all right, Father; Harry and Ron said so!"
Then the dream changed; Hermione was at a wedding. Pansy Parkinson, a bridesmaid, kept laughing at her and chanting "Dramione", so Hermione punched the Slytherin girl in the mouth. She would have hurt Pansy further, but the Minister of Magic appeared and told her he was Draco's grandfather.
He offered her some Floo Powder so Hermione could get back to Hogwarts. The fireplace she wanted to use was broken in half and it took her several minutes to find another.
Just as she was about to fling some Floo Powder into the fire, Professor Dumbledore's face appeared in the flames. He said to her, "Cooperation is the key."
Hermione, annoyed, picked up a handful of bronze Knuts and threw them at Dumbledore's face. She then got up and opened a portrait hole, letting several Gryffindor students out into the hallway. Beyond the door, Draco sat looking at a book.
Hermione tried to move towards him, but something was pulling her back...
Hermione opened her eyes. Someone was right outside the door muttering something! Was it a house-elf? Cautiously, Hermione crept out of bed; she didn’t want to scare the poor thing, though she did want to speak to it!
Slowly she opened her door, curious to see if perhaps, by some small chance, that Winky was out there. Hermione wanted to try talking to Winky once more, since the very last time didn’t work out well.
Hermione pressed one eye to the slit in the door. She stifled a gasp; Draco Malfoy was standing there--wand at the ready!
For one small moment, Hermione believed she was still sleeping; she had to be. But rationalization quickly took over. This is not a dream! And why on earth would Draco be standing outside my door? Is he tryg to kill me? she wondered.
Hermione knew that was ridiculous; Draco would be caught within moments!
Just then, the unbidden image of Draco trying to get into her room to kiss intruded on her musings. Grimacing slightly, she quickly banished the thought and tried to think of something else. She was quite disgusted with herself. Snogging Draco?! Hermione blanched inwardly. Oh, Merlin, no! I'd rather snog a mandrake. She was mortified at her thoughts and vowed never to reveal them to anyone--not even Ginny.
Suddenly, she found her voice. “What are you doing?” Hermione flinched, for even she hadn’t expected her voice to be so loud.
Surprised, Draco dropped his book an his foot. “Bloody hell!” he grunted, scooping up the tome and glaring at Hermione. “What are you doing up?”
“I asked you first.” Hermione crossed her arms, holding the door open with her foot.
Draco sighed, defeated. “I was trying to get into your room.”
Hermione blanched, her blood running cold. “What?!”
“Oh don’t flatter yourself;” Draco retorted, rolling his eyes. “I want those candies. I was trying to be quiet, I don’t know how you heard me.”
“No, Malfoy! You heard what Dumbledore said! Besides, I put a charm on my door every night before I go to bed.
“Now you really are flattering yourself; trust me, Granger, you don’t have to worry about me ravishing you in the middle of the night. I’d rather snog a madrake!”
Hermione bit her lip; Draco felt the same way about Madrakes, did he?
“Well, you can’t have those candies,” she replied haughtily. “I don’t want to be stuck to you while your having...bowel problems.”
Draco said nothing, only gave her a glare in return. Afterwards he stomped away--going back to his own dorm, slamming the door once more.
With a shiver, Hermione closed her door, feeling a little sad; why wouldn’t Draco want to snog her?
“Ew!” she cried suddenly; why did she even wonder such a horrible thing?
Or was it?
Quickly turning her thoughts to something more pleasant, Hermione began looking forward to later today, when some of the students planned on going to Hogsmeade after breakfast. She and Draco had exchanged a few words of interest last night in going along with a group of seventh years...
"I'd like to go, Malfoy," Hermione had stated, after Draco scoffed how ridiculous it would look if they went to Hogsmeade joined at the hip.
"Fine, Granger, you can go, but I refuse to set foot in that place--everyone will see us together like this!"
Hermione had laughed. "Everyone has seen us together, you dolt!"
Draco had looked away. "I meant those other than the students and teachers," he'd muttered.
A knowing expression had spread across Hermione's features. "I see. You're worried someone will tell your father of our...situation." Draco's silence indicated that she had been correct. "Perhaps we can ask Professor Dumbledore to separate us for a short time--if we explain to him your concerns."
Draco's face had turned to outrage. "Sure, Granger. Let's tell ol' Dumbledore how scared I am of my daddy! Is that what you want? I'd sooner die."
"Are you?"
"What--dying? Don't be stupid."
"No! I meant...scared."
"Of course not!" The look Draco had given her nearly made Hermione laugh again.
"It's settled, then; we'll go over to Hogsmeade tomorrow," Hermione had stated firmly, and Draco said nothing further about the matter.
Hermione had mentally planned all the places she'd wanted to visit: Scrivenshaft's--for a new quill, Gladrags Wizardwear--for a pair of warm, fuzzy socks to send to her cousin, and Honeydukes--for Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans; she knew she wasn't really supposed to eat them, as her dentist-parents would likely disapprove, but Hermione just couldn't resist.
In all, she was looking forward to getting away from Hogwarts for a somewhat relaxing day--despite the fact that Malfoy would be in tow.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"I can't go to Hogsmeade!" Ginny Weasley wailed to her brother, Ron, and his best friend, Harry Potter; they trio were sitting in front of the fireplace just before breakfast. Harry, Ron, and even Neville Longbottom tried to cheer the red-haired girl, but she was inconsolable; today she and Luna would have to serve the last of their week's detention with Dumbledore.
"There's always tomorrow," Ron said awkwardly, patting his sister's arm.
"Yeah," said Neville, "it's kind of nice to be able to get a full weekend to visit Hogsmeade."
Harry cleared his throat. "Yes, but I wonder why?"
Ron shrugged. "Something to do with the special assembly on Monday, I s'pose."
"Hmm," Harry muttered. "I wonder if Voldemort's on the move and Dumbledore wants to give us a warning?" He rolled his eyes when his friends cringed.
"Just stop it," Harry scoffed. "How can you three possibly be worried about a name when you've gone up against Death Eaters?"
No one said anything for a moment; Harry was right, and each one knew it. Besides, Ron thought, the whole town will be crawling with members of the Order to make certain nothing happens to Harry. Ron looked over at his best friend with just a tinge of envy.
At that moment, a second year approached them; she was wearing a rather large red knit sweater and faded jeans that looked a little too short. The girl gave them an anxious smile, but kept looking at the floor.
"Excuse me," the young, auburn-haired girl squeaked. "Please pardon my interruption."
Ron rolled his eyes and Ginny raised an eyebrow. Neville stiffened beside Harry, causing Harry to wonder, when was everyone's obsession with 'The Boy Who Lived' going to come to an end?
"Yes?" Harry asked politely, giving the girl a weary smile; he hoped she wasn't going to ask him to sign her jumper or anything.
"I was--I was hoping you could, um..."
Ron snickered and Harry's heart sank. "What do you want me to sign?" he asked with a heavy sigh.
The girl looked taken aback. "Oh no!" she trilled lightly. "You don't have to sign anything." She smiled broadly when Harry sighed with relief. "I was wondering--since you are friends with her--if you could pass a message along to Hermione Granger?"
Ginny blinked. "She's the Head Girl; surely you could talk to her any time."
The girl shook her long reddish locks. "Not with him nearby; I don't particularly care for him. Not after he...” her voice died away as she looked at the wall beyond Harry’s head.
It was quite clear to whom the girl was referring: Draco Malfoy.
“Wh-what did he do?” Neville asked, sitting up straighter, curiousity and concern crossing his features.
The girl looked at him blankly. “What? Oh, I--nevermind. It’s nothing.”
Clearly she didn’t want to speak about it, so Harry nodded and said, "Sure, we'll tell Hermione whatever you're going to say. What's your name, by the way?"
"Anya Borgin."
"N-Not any relation to the Borgin of Knockturn Alley, by any chance?" Harry asked slowly.
Anya blushed. "He's my Great Uncle; I don't like him either. He was a Ravenclaw, by the way; many people seem to think my family have always been from Slytherin."
"So sorry," Ron commiserated. He shot a look at Harry that clearly said 'This is awkward.'
Anya nodded her thanks and continued. "I'd like to join S.P.E.W., if Hermione'd care to have me."
Ginny guffawed loudly; Anya turned her brown eyes onto the other girl questioningly.
"I think..." Harry said slowly his green eyes wide with amusement, "Ginny needs a drink of water." He brought up his wand to call out a spell, but the redhead waved her hand dismissively and moved over to one of the tables.
Anya stood silently for a moment, unsure of what to do or say next. After a long, awkward moment, she murmured her thanks and scooted out of the Common Room.
Ron and Harry burst into laughter then; Neville just looked at his feet. Hermione had been trying to get people to join The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare for ages, but no one--not a single person--had voluntarily signed up to help her cause. Anya Borgin sure was a strange one, Harry thought silently.
Ginny made her way back to the three boys. "Well, that was certainly entertaining," she snorted. "Are you going to pass the word along?"
"Absolutely," Harry nodded; he couldn't wait to see Hermione's face when he told her the news.
"Oh, I hate missing out on all the fun, but I guess it'll be all right to miss the first day," the freckle-faced girl sighed. "You three have to promise to keep an eye on Hermione for me."
Ron scowled, swinging his gaze toward his sister. "You don't have to ask us to do that. We were planning on doing that ourselves, right, Harry?"
"Of course. Neville, you wanna join us?"
Neville smiled sheepishly. "I, um, can't. I have something to do."
"Are you even going to Hogsmeade?" Ron queried.
Neville nodded. "Certainly; but I have, um, important business to take care of." At this, he got to his feet.
Harry and Ron looked amused. "Important business?" Harry repeated, bemused. "Who are you now--Hagrid?" Everyone laughed; it was well-known that Hagrid had gone into Hogsmeade several times under the guise of taking care of 'important business'.
Neville chuckled, but turned beet red. "Um, no." He quickly changed the subject, turning to Ginny. "What does the Professor have you doing today?"
Ginny muttered something that sound quite like "snogging".
"Snogging!" Ron roared, leaping to his feet. "Who does Dumbledore want you to snog? Luna? Him?" He looked ready to commit murder; even Harry and Neville looked shocked.
Despite her sadness, Ginny burst into laughter. "Don't be a prat, Ronald!" she scolded. "I didn't say 'snogging'! Gee, you really ought to go to Madame Pomfrey and have your hearing checked." Her gaze fell upon Harry and Neville. "All three of you!"
"Well, what did you say, then?" Harry pressed; Ron and Neville leaned closer to Ginny.
The freckle-faced girl shook her head. "I'm not telling; but you'll probably find out sooner than I'd like. Anyway, I'm going to breakfast." She got up from her chair and left the Common Room, leaving behind three very confused Gryffindors.