That’s where you belong. Right now, you’re just a tourist in this world.
Malfoy’s words rang in her ears like a record on a repeat, and she felt crosser every time they replayed.
“How dare he,” she fumed under her breath, not caring for the stares she was attracting from her incessant muttering that was becoming increasingly incoherent. “Stupid…stupid…Belong in a tour“I'll give you a tour...a tour of fury.”
“Hermione?” How ironic that it was Lavender Brown who was wondering whether she, Hermione Granger was all right. “Are you okay?”
“Just dandy,” Hermione said with such obvious sarcasm even a troll would’ve detected it and scarpered.
“If this is about Ron“” Lavender began, clearly ready to assert herself in the role of the protective, hands-off-my-boyfriend role.
“It’s not about you or Ron, or you and Ron. De facto, that my anger could possibly be caused by something other than your own self-involved-world-view shouldn’t be so shocking, Lavender! Just leave me alone already!” Hermione was surprised to find that the fury-filled voice that reverberated in the room was her own. What has he done to me?
Lavender, more than a bit bewildered by this outbreak of rage quickly made herself scarce, retreating to Ron in the Gryffindor common room, undoubtedly to rehash on her “jealous” behavior. And off she goes, to relay on how jealous I'm not.
“Hermione, are you okay?” Ready to fire back at Lavender, she was almost disappointed that it was somebody she had no reason to display apoplectic rage to. It was just Harry.
“Yes…I’m fine,” she said, offering a most unconvincing smile that resembled the cringe it really was.
Harry was not to be sedated by her act. “Hermione, c’mon, if this is about Ron, you should tell him how you feel and not“”
“Not what? Show the world how angry I am? Is that a crime now? I don’t remember you getting too apologetic about your anger last year, but I put up with it all the same. And why does everyone think this is about Ron? Not everything is about sodding Ron Weasley!”
Harry was on the verge of a reply, but seemed to think better of it. Hermione was dully aware of stares from every angle. She knew she must look a real mess“red with anger, flyaway hair, and a maddening stare Medusa would have been proud of.
It would be a few moments before she felt guilty for how she’d treated Harry (she saw no reason to feel guilt over her behavior to Lavender). She was still too angry with Malfoy and even more so, herself. This was a delayed reaction like no other“she’d been too occupied trying to find the meaning in his cleverly chosen words to really understand them. But now she did, and her anger was to be known and could not be hidden. That the words had been spoken from Draco Malfoy intensified the hurt and anger they’d instilled somehow.
“Hermione, we need to talk,” Ginny said, looking at her with worried eyes. “Not about Ron,” she added quickly, second-guessing accurately what Hermione was about to say.
“Fine,” she said wearily, trying to master the last shred of sense that seemed to have abandoned itself during her moment of anger that she now wished could be erased from history.
“Something happened to you. I mean, I’ve never seen you lose control like that. Want to tell me what happened?”
“No.”
“But I think you need to talk about it. You’ll feel better.” For a nanosecond, Hermione deliberated on telling Ginny why she was so angry, but decided against it immediately. She was afraid Ginny might accuse her of something“the same something Malfoy had accused her of.
“I disagree,” Hermione said defiantly. “And I’m in every right to disagree, so don’t try to talk me out of it to talk to you about what I can’t talk to you about.”
“I’m going to have to ‘Lather, rinse, repeat’ to understand that one,” Ginny said with a slight smile.
Hermione scowled.
“Your constant denial that your anger isn’t about Ron makes me think that it well, might be,” Ginny explained apologetically.
“Well, it’s not,” said Hermione tartly.
“Then what?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Drop the secrecy already“it’s me, Hermione. I haven’t seen you so worked up about keeping a secret since Viktor Krum, and that was to Ron. I don’t see what could be so terrible that you can’t tell me about it.”
“It’s nothing, Ginny. Really.” Hermione tried to summon a convincing expression of All's-well-with-the-world, but it was met with skepticism.
“Nothing? That’s the something that caused such a dragon-like reaction to all those scared innocent bystanders huddling in the common room now?”
“There aren’t scared innocent bystanders,” Hermione protested feebly.
“What I think is that you were brooding, and Lavender interrupted, and you just snapped because it was her. You hate Lavender, plain and simple. She has the boy you want“the boy I might add is my extremely gangly, undesirable older brother, but also the boy you’re meant-to-be with. There’s nothing wrong with admitting that. And maybe some mitigating factors like some nose-picking first-year's playing with Fanged Frisbees? Am I getting warm?”
Hermione said nothing, glowering at the rug.
“Why can't you tell me, Hermione? For God's sake, a lie is better than what you’re telling me, which is nothing!”
“There is,” Hermione said with dignity, “nothing to tell."
"So much more convincing with the even more pronounced anger," Ginny said sarcastically.
“Well, the truth is, nothing happened! There, that’s a lie. Isn’t that better?” she snapped.
Ginny gave her a hard look. “When you’re ready to talk about this, I’ll be happy to hear it.”
I’ll never tell.
“Caused quite an uproar in there, didn’t you?” said a sly voice in the shadows, but she already knew who it was.
Hermione whirled around, no longer unsettled but wondering why she hadn’t foreseen this coming. Undoubtedly because I have no aptitude for Divination, she thought dryly.
“So what does an angry rampage feel like, Granger? I’m all ears.” Malfoy looked positively delirious with glee.
“We can’t talk here,” she hissed, irritated that he’d somehow wormed his way into a coveted seat of Arrogant, Inescapable Gits. It looked like Ron Weasley’s top spot had a contender.
In waspish fashion, she pulled him towards an abandoned classroom for more privacy for what would inevitably be another argument. Why do I subject myself to the ignominious pain of his company?
“Are you getting déjà vu?” Malfoy inquired when she let go of his arm and shut the door of the classroom. “Because I have this vivid memory of you, me, alone in a corridor and this is just“”
“What do you want?”
“The same thing you do, Granger. You could say I want…information.”
“Information? Possibly how to be more of an intolerable person? Tips on how to be a git?” she suggested, thinking of Ron’s invective on Malfoy a few pre-Lavender weeks ago.
“Me, a git?” Malfoy looked deeply amused. “So I do get under your skin. I bother you.”
“And the sky is blue. Are we done here? Please, God, let this conversation end with a ‘yes’.”
“Not even close to being done. Aren’t you having fun, Granger? Possibly the most fun you’ve ever had?” His casual tone betrayed only the slightest bit of dalliance that did not go unmissed by Hermione.
“Quite honestly, no.”
“Quite honestly, I don’t believe you,” he replied with the ease you’d find in a conversation between friends…or sworn rivals. Which was what they were, completely and utterly. That she had to remind herself of that fact so constantly perturbed her. “What I said back when we were in the library, I may have possibly touched a few nerves. Getting warm?”
When Ginny had asked whether she was getting 'warm', she had been far from it. But this time, the tables had turned“done a complete three-sixty, in fact. The silence stretched on uncomfortably, the awkwardness of it palpable and the tension building between them like the flickering flames of a fire.
“So? That doesn’t mean anything,” she retorted.
“I don’t recall saying it did. It’s you that wants to put the meaning in everything, but it’s a personal fault of your kind.”
“My kind?” The anger bubbled inside the cauldron, stirring at astonishing speed.
“Women,” he explained, raising an eyebrow. “What, you thought I meant Mudbloods? No, I decided to take a tip from what you said“I do get repetitive with my material sometimes, but it’s only because it’s the first word that comes to mind when I see you.”
“Get out.”
“Looks like I’m not the only unoriginal one then,” Malfoy said, grinning in the extremely vexing way only he could manufacture with a simple smile. “And if memory serves me, you were the one who dragged me in this classroom.”
“Shut up, Malfoy.”
“Not any time soon, Granger. I had a purpose in mind“information.”
“Right,” she said tersely. “And I’m what, supposed to be handing you information on a silver plate? Is that it?”
“Not quite. There’s an upside for you in this, you know. You give me what I want“I’ll give you what you want.”
“What do I want?” she asked, momentarily swayed in puzzlement.
“For a know-it-all, you’re pretty dim. Information. What were you thinking?” He put up his hands dramatically and amended, “On the other hand, I don’t really want to know.”
“So what do you want to know?” She was careful to keep her tone heavy with dislike, but he continued to grin despite her animosity.
“What do you think of Weasley with that Brown girl? Are you…jealous?”
“You said you wanted information,” Hermione countered immediately.
“I do.” He rolled his eyes at her apparent lack of comprehension.
“What does Ron and Lavender have to do with information?”
“Possibly you might have noticed I asked you a question. Questions are asked so they can be answered. You should understand this concept well. I mean, the way you jump every time a teacher asks you a question.”
“They’re completely wrong for each other.” The words spilled out before she could stop them from pouring.
“And your opinion has nothing to do with your feelings for him?”
“I don’t have feelings for Ron.”
“Right…and the sky’s not blue.” His grin resurfaced again, and hearing him spit back the words she’d said earlier incensed her.
“Is there anybody else that’s stopping you?”
“Stopping me from what?” Hermione wasn’t sure why she was still talking to him, or why her feet felt magically compelled to stay where they were, which was here in an abandoned classroom with possibly her least favorite person in the world.
“Anyone who would belch slugs for somebody is dead serious about the girl they did it for. What’s he doing with her? Why isn’t he with you? What’s stopping you from being with him?”
Real curiosity was apparent in his voice.
“Because…I don’t know. And I don’t care either. He’s perfectly entitled to be with Lavender, or anybody else, or“”
“With you?” he cut in.
“Shut up.”
“Oh, right“not a word from Draco Malfoy, 'cause you might actually get a bit of truth on you, is that right?”
“I feel nothing for Ron.”
“So that’s why you maintained an unpleasant silence with him all through Potions? They’ve got a name for that“the Ice Queen Act.”
“It wasn’t an unpleasant silence“anyways, I was concentrated on my work.” And why were you watching me in Potions? she wanted to add, but she was afraid of the answer, and even more afraid of why she was.
“And back to my question“is there somebody else?” This time she knew the implications of his question, and she also knew it wasn’t one she could answer honestly.
“Of course not. There’s nobody in the way of anything because I don’t like Ron! Well, not in that way,” she amended hastily.
“Denial is a beautiful thing,” Malfoy told her with teasing eyes. “It’s not something I’d recommend, but anyways, it’s your turn now.”
“My turn? What, are we playing a game?”
“You wish, Granger. Although I guess for you, this is a game“fun and all that. No, your turn to ask for information.”
Why are you talking to me like we’re comrades? Why are we in this classroom together? Why do you make feel as angry as I do the way nobody else ever has? Why do you have the Dark Mark? What do I have to do with this plan of the Dark Lord’s? Why does Snape know about the plan? Why do I want to know these things as badly as I do?
When she still did not speak, he said, “Wasn’t that what you were fishing for the other day? Getting all uptight about the information I wasn’t giving you? Well, here’s your chance. Or do Gryffindors not seize chances that are staring right at them?”
He was staring right at her with piercing grey eyes that made her feel like she was being X-rayed for cancerously concealed thoughts and feelings. A thought trembled her“what if he did see something?
“What’s this plan Voldemort gave you? What’s it got to do with me?” she finally asked in a brave attempt to maintain her loathing alive in her unfriendly tones.
“More than you'd ever guess,” came his cryptic answer.
Hermione seethed. "Would it kill you to“?" She sighed, giving up. He wasn't going to tell her anything, and she'd wasted her time yet again trying to find out.
"Kill me to what?" he hissed, the intensity between their unsaid thoughts and feelings louder than the current silence. Before she knew it, the distance between them was no longer an issue. She couldn't have said who had moved first, but it was as if their lips met in synchronized motion, like they'd meant to do it all along, quelling any further thoughts except Why is this happening and why aren’t I stopping it? A thrill of involuntary excitement quickened her pulse and left her forgetting she could breathe, which stopped only when she finally pulled away in shock and disgust with herself and the situation she’d found herself into.
“Did you just…?” The word ‘kiss’ was not one that was going to escape her lips, not to Malfoy.
“We just, you mean. See you around then…Hermione.” He said her name in a way she'd never heard it before, mocking yet sincere at the same time and it unnerved her.
How do these things happen? How did I let this happen? she thought, feeling wretched and wanting to forget, but her mind's remembrance of his touch betrayed her wish to forget her moment of mortification.
Hermione made a contemptuous noise and stood as tall as she could stand. “There won’t be a repeat experience, Malfoy. There was no experience.”
“Denial is a beautiful thing,” he recited again with his familiar sneer. “I’m not under your skin now,” he said. “I’m in it.” And on that note, he left, in her skin at last.