Also, just to let anyone know in case they want to know, this story is going to start out as Ron/Hermione, and then go into Draco/Hermione. It isn’t going to be a triangle, but basically, after an, err, particular event, Hermione just… sees potential in Draco, which would be more than she sees in Ron. I didn’t spoil anything, so don’t come crying!
Now, I think it may be best if we started this chapter!
By Darkwing731
((--Chapter Two--))
Here We Are
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It'll be alright, she told herself again. She'd be able to get through the year, maybe with some difficulties, perhaps some awkward moments, but she'd pull through.
Her eyes widened in shock as she felt a tentative hand place itself over her own on the seat. She followed the arm to its owner, and found herself looking at an anxious and nervous Ron. She smiled at him, pleased yet nervous, and he grinned back.
Smiling to herself, she intertwined her fingers in Ron's, catching Harry and Ginny's looks and feeling quite content.
Maybe this year won't be so bad after all.
The feast had been better; in fact, it had been better than it ever had.
Dumbledore's speech was enlightening, and although it was short and quick, he, as usual, made his point clearly. Voldemort was on the rise, and like his theme for every speech, he merely said they were strong as they were united, weak as they were apart. She noticed, along with Harry and Ron that his blue eyes turned slightly in their direction. Everyone knew that the Trio would all be playing a part in eradicating Voldemort; it was obvious.
The feast was mouth-watering, and although Hermione was hungry, she was barely eating. She was oblivious to the crowd talking and the noisy gossip floating around as she sat in her seat, her shoulders slightly hunched, a badly suppressed smile on her face. She shifted food around on her plate again, her chest rising with an elated feeling.
Almost immediately after Dumbledore had started his speech, she had felt weight on her foot. She only gave a spare glance under the table, and realized someone's foot was shifted directly on hers. The mystery person was sitting across from her. She had looked up, ready to hiss a complaint, when she saw who it was.
Ron looked back at her, his eyes smiling and nervous. She remembered how her insides had positively melted.
The food moved onto desert, and Ron's foot had shifted slightly, so that the toe of his foot was slightly on her calf. She couldn’t help but look up, almost timidly, her cheeks flushed, at him. He wasn’t smiling, but he looked happy as he looked back at her. His ears were as red as Hermione's cheeks, and she knew that he was as delighted about it as she was.
When dinner was over, and the students flocked to the Great Hall doors, Hermione parted from Harry, Ron, and Ginny to talk to Dumbledore for a moment. When she reached him, she saw Malfoy talking to him already. She was slightly annoyed that the ferret had beaten her too it, but she waited politely.
Malfoy looked seriously ill, she noted as she stood. His waist was too narrow, his face too thin and with a pale tinge that was unlike his normal skin. He looked weary with the circles under his eyes, as if he had seen too much and only wanted to sleep for all eternity; but then, as she glanced around the hall and then back at him, he was fierce, tense. His body seemed as if it was on alert, even with Dumbledore. He looked too concentrated on the old man's words, as if he wanted to direct his mind away from the thoughts that lingered when he had nothing to do.
Still, any slight pity she felt for him dissolved when he turned, his sharp gaze falling on her, splintered only by the threads of white-blonde hair falling in his eyes. His mouth immediately twisted into a snarl, his eyes narrowed to slits, and he pushed past her, ramming into her petite shoulder with his lean one; she stumbled noticeably. She looked over her shoulder and sneered at his retreating back before rolling her eyes as she looked back to Dumbledore.
The Headmaster had a knowing look on his face accompanied by kind smile as he too watched the ferret retreat behind the other students. Hermione frowned disapprovingly, but said nothing on her part about Malfoy.
"Sir," she said politely when Dumbledore looked inquiringly at her, "I was wondering where the Head Tower might be and how I may access it."
"Ah, yes, Miss Granger. Well, in your common room in the Gryffindor Tower, there is a grandfather clock to the right of the fireplace. Next to that is a portrait of Godric Gryffindor, which appears not to move. If you say empathy, Godric will nod slightly and swing forward and let you through.
Now, this works almost like a Fidelius Charm; no one will know about this portrait except for those you tell. You can withdraw this privilege from any person at any time. Also, your door to your bedroom and personal quarters must be opened by your hands, or a password that changes whenever you wish for it. Any questions?" Dumbledore finished.
"No, sir. Thank you," Hermione said, and bid him goodbye and went to find her fellow Gryffindors.
Hermione trotted out of the Great Hall, and, pushing open the doors, she saw the foyer and the main staircase were nearly abandoned. Only a few stragglers were left behind. Smiling slightly as she thought of her quarters, she started up the staircase in a run.
When she had almost reached the seventh floor, she ran, unexpectedly, into Malfoy. She jumped out of the way and nearly fell over as he staggered.
"Mudblood," he spat angrily, glaring at her. "Watch where you’re going!"
"Malfoy, what in the name of Merlin are you doing up here?" she asked immediately. "Aren't you supposed to be in the dungeons with the rest of you slimy friends?" Her voice had malice and he sensed it just as easily as anyone else would.
"I'm going to the Head Tower, you filthy little thing, not that it concerns you," he spat. And with a disgusted and contemptuous glare, he turned on his heel and continued on his way.
Hermione bent over slowly and picked up her book bag which had fallen to the floor. She watched his thin, lean profile walk down the hallway with an angry briskness. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and, wondering what was making him even more vicious this year, she slung the strap over her shoulder and finished her walk to Gryffindor Tower.
"Okay, okay, ready?" Hermione asked excitedly.
Harry, Ron and Ginny were all behind her, taut with excitement and jubilation as they waited for Hermione to open the portrait to her quarters. Hermione had not yet entered the Head Tower and she wanted her three best friends with her when she went in.
"Come on, Hermione!"
"Move! Open it!"
"Please?"
Hermione grinned at all three of them. She turned and looked up at the portrait of Godric Gryffindor, who had a five o'clock shadow with golden hairs sticking from his chin. He had old-fashion attire on, and all four of them found it rather amusing that his uniform had very puffy sleeves.
"Okay! Empathy!" Hermione cried, and they all cringed in excitement.
The portrait nodded subtly and swung open, and they swarmed in.
There was a roaring fire place, bookshelves flanking it, much to Hermione's delight, and two couches with two matching armchairs. To the far left of the room was a swinging door, and then a hallway next to it that ended rather abruptly. And to Hermione's immediate left was a white marble staircase with steps that flowed out like waves beneath her. Ginny gave an excited squeal and started up the steps instantly.
Hermione followed, and then Harry and Ron. Yet, when the boys' feet touched the staircase, a loud shuffling noise echoed the room and Hermione shrieked as she went flying down.
Much to her disappointment, Hermione landed on Harry instead of Ron. Ginny was climbing off of Ron, who looked mildly annoyed.
"Well, that was fun," Ginny said sarcastically as she helped the Head Girl off of Harry.
"Sorry," Hermione said to him. Harry smiled.
"Don't apologize to me, apologize to Ron for not landing on him instead," Harry joked. Hermione's cheeks burned, and she slapped Harry's arm.
"Boys," she muttered. However, Ginny was smirking at her too.
"So, erm, anyways, let’s figure out how to get all of us up this staircase," Hermione said loudly, avoiding all eyes.
She took a step up, and then went all the way to the top and looked down at the four of them.
"Hmm," she said to herself. "Ron, why don’t you try taking a few steps up." Ron looked incredulous at Hermione's suggestion.
"Are you joking me? I'll fall to my untimely death!" he said. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Fine. Harry?"
Hermione raised her eyebrow at the raven-haired boy, who looked quite reluctant. However, one severe look from Ginny and he started to leap up the staircase. Halfway up, the shuffling noise was heard and Harry went flying down the staircase, yelling.
Sprawled out on the floor, Harry grimaced as he got up.
"Is there, err, a less painful way we could do this?" Harry asked, sounding almost sarcastic as Ron lifted him to his feet. Hermione shrugged.
"Would Malfoy know?" Ginny asked. Hermione frowned.
"I dunno. I could ask him, but why would he know? He doesn’t have a staircase," Hermione said, not wanting a reason to talk to Malfoy again that night.
"True, but he may," Ginny said back, her voice nearly arguing. Hermione sighed.
"Very well, I'll give it a go." Letting out an exasperated noise, she dropped down the stairs and made her way to the hallway.
When she stepped through, it was like a curtain of darkness enveloped her. Everything was dim and she could barely make out his doorknob.
"Merlin," she muttered. She stepped forward and started knocking loudly on Malfoy's door.
"Malfoy," she called. She stopped for a second and listened. There was no reply.
"Malfoy," she called louder, knocking harder.
"Malfoy!"
"WHAT DO YOU WANT, YOU BLOODY WENCH?"
He ripped his door open and stepped out, sending her backwards a few steps. She noted reluctantly how intimidating and how scary he looked, as if he was a creature of the night ready to deliver some fatal news. He was seething and his face was twisted in a snarl.
"I, erm—"
"Well? Is there a reason you’re wasting my precious time, Mudblood?" he snarled at her, taking another dangerous step forward toward her. She gaped at him, suddenly lost for words and feeling fear and awkwardness starting to rise up her in chest.
Like on the train, his imposing and glacial figure towered over her, his eyes glowing silver slits in the darkness of the hallway, his teeth sharp and ready to rip the flesh and the dignity from her body. She could've whimpered but merely tried to control her fear instead.
"Stupid little creature! Don’t bother me next time!" he snarled at her, turned and slammed his door rather loudly in her face.
When Hermione came back out to Harry, Ron, and Ginny, all three of them were exchanging glances and looked stunned. She joined the group and looked at them, tension and confusion rising in the blunt silence.
"What's stuck up his arse?" Ron asked, breaking the silence. And like magic, all of them broke into laughter that was boisterous and contagious. None of them could stop.
Ginny sighed and leaned against Harry who was still chuckling with laughter. Hermione grinned at Ron, and the mirth died down.
"So how do we get up the stairs?" Ron asked Hermione. She shrugged.
"I dunno. But we can look at the rest of the Tower before you guys go to bed. Ginny can come and look at my room and give you the details afterwards," Hermione suggested.
"Sounds fine," Harry said. Ron suddenly made a beeline for the swinging door, a curious look on his face. He pushed the ivory colored door open, and looked back at them with a simply delighted look on his face.
"It's a kitchen!" he cried in utter glee. In a second, he was in through the door and out of sight.
Harry laughed and followed him. "We'll go look upstairs," Ginny said. He nodded and pushed open the door and started laughing. Joyful statements could be heard from Ron as he looked around, and the two girls laughed.
They bounded up the staircase and stood in front of the door. It had Hermione's initials, HJG, carved in it with Gryffindor colors behind them in a shape of a lion. She grabbed the handle and pushed open the door.
The room was large, and had a desk, a dresser and a mirror. It had a bed stand and an enormous bookcase that reached all the way up to the ceiling. Next to it was a large, gothic-style window with a plush scarlet seat beneath it, presumably for reading or doing as she wished.
The bed was pushed against the far wall, and it had a thin, translucent canopy with a dark crimson bedspread and black lined pillows. French doors stood across the room as her closet, and another door that held a mystery, for Hermione hadn't opened it yet.
So Ginny did it for her and yelled in envy. It was a bathroom, with both a stand-up shower and a pool-like tub. The bathroom had a mirror that stretched across a complete wall, and a big marble sink with plenty of counter space. There was also a vanity with four mirrors that shined at each other and had infinite reflections of the room as they bounced off each other.
"Gosh, do I hate you right now," Ginny said, jealously scanning the room. Hermione smiled. "This is the wickedest room."
"Well, then, become Head Girl next year and you will get this," Hermione replied, grinning at the red head. Ginny laughed but shook her head.
"Too much responsibility. I want a life, you know," she said. Hermione opened her mouth in mock anger.
"Are you telling me I have no life, Ginevra?" Hermione asked. Ginny shuddered.
"Don’t call me that," she said. "I hate it when people call me that." Hermione smirked.
"What about when Harry calls you that?" Hermione asked slyly. Ginny grinned at her.
"I love whatever Harry calls me," Ginny admitted, unblushingly. "But he's yet to say that to me. And don’t ask him to," she warned as she saw Hermione hide a mischievous grin.
"I won't," Hermione promised.
"Now, let’s go see what those boys are up to," Ginny said as she threw her reflection a glance. She tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear before exiting the room, Hermione in tow.
When Ginny and Hermione opened the door, they admired the view of the Head Common Room for a moment. Then, Hermione made to go down the staircase but Ginny grabbed her and signaled hurriedly for her to be quiet.
Harry and Ron were sitting on one of the couches, talking just loud enough for the two girls to hear them. The girls backed up and kept their heads outside the door to hear the conversation.
"… but I think I may, tonight," Ron said, sounding nervous. Harry clapped him on the shoulder, smiling.
"Well, it's about time! It's been, what, four or five years? You've kept her this long, say something tonight for sure," Harry agreed. Ron sighed, looking anxious.
"Do you think—?"
"Yes, Ron, she'll say yes. She's your best mate besides me. And I know for a fact that she fancies you! She has for ages and ages!" Harry sounded very exasperated.
"How do you know that?" Ron asked, sounding suspicious.
"Ginny told me," Harry said. Neither boy heard the indignant sound from Ginny and the angry one from Hermione.
"Well, I guess she's a reliable source…" Ron hesitated, unsurely. Ginny flung open the door and stormed down the stairs as both boys whipped around to look at her, their faces guilty.
"Damn right I'm a reliable source!" she shouted angrily. At this, a look of pure horror crossed Harry's face.
"Potter, you will die tonight!" she growled. She grabbed Harry by the wrist, and pulled him across the room to the portrait back into the Gryffindor Common Room. She flung open the portrait and pulled him through, thoroughly reprimanding her boyfriend.
"—can't believe you would tell Ron! I mean, you could've told him but not my name!"
"I'm sorry!" Was the last thing heard from Harry as the portrait slammed shut.
Ron sat in silence staring at the painting, and then slowly sank back into the couch, staring into the fire gloomily. He didn’t see Hermione descend the stairs rather tentatively.
She stopped right before the couch, looking down at Ron's profile, unseen to him. She swallowed the nervous lump in her throat as her nerves filled with something she couldn’t quite place.
"I feel bad for Harry," she said quietly, and Ron just about jumped a mile in the air.
"Merlin, Hermione, you scared the hell out of me," Ron muttered, his hand over his heart. He slowly turned back to the fire. She laughed softly and moved around and bravely sat down next to him.
More like on top of him, she said to herself. She was quite close to him; their elbows brushed one another, and their thighs were touching.
"He'll be begging on his knees for weeks," Ron said, looking over at her. Hermione laughed while Ron grinned.
"Well, he really shouldn't have dragged her into it. I mean, that was…" she paused. "Rather stupid," she said bluntly and then sighed.
"But then, we can't expect boys to be experts when it comes to this," Hermione said quietly.
"To what?" he asked her softly. She looked over at him.
He did not look confused in the least. He was staring at her, rather intensely. And she knew suddenly that he had asked her because he wanted his own verification, instead of Harry assuring him because Ginny had told him.
Hermione bit her lip, her heart fluttering and her pulse quick.
"To girls; to dating," she whispered. "The rules… there are so many. They're all so confusing. Half the time, I don’t even get them right." She gave him a twisted sort of smile that reflected her nervousness and her reminiscence.
"Well, I haven’t dated enough to know the rules fully," she said finally, turning to look back at the fire.
Ron was quiet for a moment, and she knew he was thinking of something clever to say. However, his words shocked her at his implication.
"Would you like to know the rules better, Hermione?"
She was at a loss for words as she looked at him, open mouthed. She stared at him openly, still amazed at how simply his words made an impact on her.
"I mean," he said hastily, "here we are, you and me. I don’t know the rules either… it could be, well, the blind leading the blind," he suggested in a whisper. He was inching closer to her, and she wasn’t moving as she looked between his eyes, suddenly paralyzed.
"Ron," she whispered suddenly. He was an inch from her parted lips, and his blue eyes flickered up from her mouth to her eyes questioningly.
"What?"
"Are you going to kiss me?" She was surprised at how it poured so easily out of her mouth, but she suddenly flushed scarlet at the stupidity of her inquiry.
"Yes," he whispered firmly. "Yes I am."
And he leaned forward and put his lips to hers. However, they were at such an angle that his caught the corner of her mouth and it was rather messy. They broke apart, and Hermione suddenly let out a laugh before turning and putting her body to his.
"That was bad," Ron said, wiping the saliva off of Hermione's cheek and they both laughed again.
"Let's fix it," she whispered, and he leaned forward again and pressed his lips to hers.
She hesitantly put her hands on his shoulders, still thinking about the feeling of his chapped lips on hers, the moistness that suddenly appeared as he opened his mouth, as she did. Slowly, she closed her eyes and leaned into him and kissed him back quietly, loving how familiar he seemed, and how she felt right at home while kissing him.
-x-x-x-
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A/N: Yeah! I loved writing that chapter! T'was very fun!
So, you know this is going to be Ron and Hermione for a little while before she is paired up with Draco. Don’t forget it!
Big shout out to A ROSESINNOCENCE for beta-ing this for me! It wouldn’t be spectacular without you!
Anyways, please review!