Hermione was normally quite captivated during her Runes class, but she simply couldn’t focus. Someone had caught her swimming in the lake with very little clothing on, and was taunting her with little notes. She cringed at the thought of it, leaning her head on her hand. It might not have been a big deal, had they not been caught. Like Ginny said… what’s your bra and underwear but a lacy swimsuit? She bit her lip, trying not to feel ashamed of herself.
It’s not my fault. Some heartless person is using something perfectly innocent to torture me. I don’t deserve it. I don’t.
Hermione reached up and untied her hair, letting it hang down her shoulders. She felt like hiding. Ever since that morning, she felt like everyone was staring at her. But there was hope yet. Ginny had the idea to write to Fred and George. She didn’t say exactly what for, but that Hermione should meet her in the Owlery after class. Hermione was counting the minutes.
•
Hermione dashed breathlessly all the way up the steps, heartened by the sounds of fluttering wings. When she got inside, she saw Ginny Weasley standing by the open window with an owl perched on her arm. The owl immediately flew out the window and disappeared into the great blue afternoon sky.
“I had the perfect idea,” Ginny said with a grin. “That letter I just sent is addressed to Fred and George at their shop in Diagon Alley. They have some new joke item called ‘Red Handed’. It’s quite brilliant; it’s used to catch people pilfering your things or what not. In this case, we could use it to discover your creepy admirer.”
Hermione smiled gratefully as she hugged Ginny. “Oh, that’s fantastic! How does it work? How did you think of it?”
Ginny frowned. “The twins were testing it out over the summer. They dusted a plate of cookies with the stuff, and… let’s just say that whoever touches it will be quite notably marked."
Hermione nodded. “If the culprit sends another owl, we can send the same owl back to them with our own little note. As soon as the creep opens it, we’ll know who saw us!”
The two girls began to head back down the stairs and into the grounds. “It’ll take a day or so,” Ginny warned. “I sent the owl to their shop, asking them to send us back a bottle of Red Handed. I told them it’s important."
“Let’s hope they respond quickly.”
•
That night at dinner, Draco strode proudly into the Great Hall with a brilliant smile. His luck was perfect. He’d gotten that pathetic Mudblood in quite a situation, with ample opportunity to torture her further. As he took his seat next to Crabbe and Goyle, his fellow Slytherins all greeted him warmly.
“What are you smirking about?” Blaise said suddenly. Crabbe and Goyle were too engaged with their dinners to have noticed. Draco stopped smirking immediately and looked coolly over at Blaise.
“What are you on about?”
“You’re up to something, aren’t you?”
Pansy immediately raised her head, looking curiously at Draco with her little pug face. She had shoulder-length jet black hair and blunt bangs that stopped just before her eyebrows.
“You haven’t said anything to me, Draco,” Pansy said with a sneer.
Draco looked over dismally at Pansy. The two of them flirted on and off, but nothing ever really happened. She was pureblood and of good parentage, but she had nothing else going for her. She had pale skin and an odd figure, and that snouty little face. Draco found himself in his mind’s eye once again, looking at the long, lean silhouette by the water. Suddenly, he clenched his teeth.
“If it concerns you,” Draco said to Pansy icily, “you’ll be the first to know.” He raised an eyebrow at Blaise, as if to say “I’ll tell you later,” and they finished their meal in silence. Draco couldn’t help but glance up every now and then to peek at the Gryffindor table. Occasionally he’d have to lean left or right slightly to get a view of Hermione past rows of moving students, but he saw her. She was laughing and talking, pointing her fork playfully at Weasley and leaning one elbow on a giant book. Draco felt a fire in the pit of his stomache.
Suddenly she was laughing, her dark brown eyes glittering playfully. She had a crooked smile, almost as though she was holding back a little. She reached out and touched Ron’s hand playfully. Suddenly, Draco found that he’d lost his appetite and arose from the table. He stormed out of the Great Hall and to the Slytherin common room with a sneer.
What the bloody Hell is she so happy about?
Draco went straight up to his dormitory, tearing his robes off along the way. He pushed back the forest green curtains of his canopy bed and reached down into his trunk, pulling out a t-shirt and boxers. After he changed, he leaned back onto his bed with a groan. He crossed his arms over his face, trying to relax his breathing. After what seemed like a long time, he got up and slid off his bed, and sat down at a desk. Taking out a piece of parchment and quill, he sat poised to write. Unfortunately, nothing could come to his mind.
Suddenly he started scribbling, jamming the quill hard into the paper.
What are you so smug about? You’re not that attractive, if that’s what you think!
Draco growled to himself, balled up the paper, and tossed it behind him. He grabbed another bit of parchment and again held the quill in mid-air, trying to think of something, anything that would make Hermione miserable. Something that would humiliate or terrify her. Something that would get a reaction.
Again, he began scribbling.
Give me one reason why I shouldn’t tell the entire school what I saw.
Draco smiled to himself as he folded the note up. He’d take it to the Owlery the next morning, before breakfast. He closed his eyes as he appreciated his own brilliance. He might even get blackmail out of this! Perhaps, in exchange for his secrecy, Granger would be forced to be his Mudblood servant. Yes, she could do his homework for him, write all his papers, scrub his cauldron after every Potions class…
Draco went to bed that night with thoughts of having Hermione Granger at his beck and call. Little did he know, these thoughts would bleed into his dreams.