CHAPTER 5
She’s a Mudblood.
Oh gods, Draco, not this again!
What do you mean?! She’s below me…everything my family’s ever stood for!
Oh, and what kind of ideals does your family stand up for, Draco? Torture, power…merciless killing?
NO! Not much, at least. And that’s not the point! Granger’s a taint to my status and my reputation! I have no need for her.
But on the contrary, that is very much the point. She is everything you’ve been brought up to scorn, and yet she just wiped away your tears and tried to console you after your defeat. She had been waiting the entire time for you, even when everyone else had left, and she’d been waiting in the pouring rain for your return…that hardly sounds worthy of such hatred, Draco.
Yeah, she had a moment of temporary insanity, so what! I’m sure she’s up there celebrating Gryffindor’s win with all the rest of the goddamned bastards.
Don’t jump to conclusions, Draco. If what she did for you shows anything, it shows how kind her heart is…because after all the many times you’ve taunted her and debased her, she still found some goodness somewhere inside of herself to show you some true compassion. Think about it, Draco. Would Pansy have done such a thing for you, for all that she wails about caring about you from the depths of her heart?
Uh, well, no…
This could be the start to something new! You could get to know her, strike up a friendship with her, and finally redeem yourself in her eyes!
HA! Whatever! Redeem myself, you bloody…(loads of mental cursing and muttering).
Suit yourself, you dimwit. But mark my words, if anything, this could be the start of a great friendship, IF you do the right thing, that is.
But –
“Oh, shut up, both of you,” Draco snapped out loud at the two voices in his head. Wait. Voices in his head? Was that normal?
Wanting to revert to a better and more pleasant horde of thoughts, his mind’s eye crept back to the kiss he and Hermione had shared. Hermione. It felt so strange to say it, just to think it. In all of his years at Hogwarts, he’d always thought of her as Mudblood, Granger, or just that bushy-haired know-it-all who always managed to do better than him in his classes.
But now, he had learned to say her name. Hermione. He remembered the way she had stood there in front of him: short, anxious, and genuinely worried about him. The rain had caused her skin to glisten slightly, and although her hair had become a right mess, he’d nevertheless enjoyed his fingers entangled within it as she’d clung to him.
She hadn’t said anything when they drew apart. She’d just raised two fingers to her moist lips, as if wondering what she’s just done, before looking up into the suddenly sunny skies. He could tell that she was confused, and that she hadn’t known what to say.
But maybe, he thought now as he dressed for dinner, Maybe silence is sometimes the best communicator. Because when you’re silent, the only thing left to do is to speak with your eyes… and eyes can’t lie.
Hermione…
Hermione stood in the shower letting the hot, soothing water relax her tensed muscles, and felt that she didn’t quite know exactly what to think or do. He’d kissed her, yes. And she’d kissed back as well. But, did it mean anything?
Was letting an enemy kiss you entirely ethical? Damn it, was he even still an enemy? She’d thought he was, before, but now, she felt like maybe her definition of the word enemy was not the best standard to go by. Yes, they had perpetual hissy fits, and yes, there were times when she’d felt like throttling him (just take a look at what had happened in her third year), but did that make him a total enemy?
She’d fought with Ron before too, and had also wanted to strangle him on many accounts…did that place him in the same category as Draco Malfoy?
Draco.
“He said my name, you know,” Hermione said conversationally to the shower head. “He said it twice: once, just to get my attention, and then once, just before he k-kissed me.”
The showerhead kept showering water down on her, like it was supposed to, and Hermione was vaguely disappointed at the lack of girlish squeals and shrieks that would’ve filled the castle had she told Ginny this. But she didn’t want to tell anyone just yet. For now, it would be her little secret, hers and his. And she had to admit, that Linda’s Lip Lover thing really worked.
Roger Hoffschwitt was interested. Oh, yes, very interested. He’d spotted the pretty Gryffindor walking around the library and school corridors sometimes, and he’d always followed her with his eyes for as long as she’d be in the same room. She was a bit of a flirt, he noticed, and she’d toss her hair around a bit if anyone good looking ever came into the vicinity. When she smiled, the lights would reflect off her teeth, and when she laughed, Roger could see contours of her mouth’s inside. Yes, she would make quite a catch when he got his hands on her. Quite a catch indeed.
*******************
Hermione knew that Draco (Draco, Draco, Draco) was still feeling a little down about the Quidditch loss, so she decided not to press the matter of hallway patrolling that evening. Now dressed in simple black sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt, she didn’t feel up to donning the tiresome old school robes again, and so, being sure as to not make any loud noise, she quietly shut the portrait door and began her rounds of the sixth and seventh floors.
While walking cautiously with her lit wand raised, she saw someone in front of her and called out, “Excuse me? Do you have permission to be out of bed at this hour?”
The figure turned, and Hermione saw that it was just Zabini. She knew he had permission because she’d seen him at the prefects’ meetings along with Gina Moss, the other Slytherin prefect.
“Hello there, Granger,” he said cordially as he ambled over towards her. “You’ve got sixth and seventh tonight?”
She nodded. “Yeah, Draco didn’t feel like coming tonight, so I decided not to give him a hard time about it for the time being.”
Zabini raised a questioning eyebrow at her casual use of his name, and she blushed almost imperceptibly before quickly saying, “Oh, we came to a truce, you know, Draco and I. We sort of felt like we were trespassing a bit too far into the realms of childishness, so we both backed off respectfully.”
Zabini smiled. “Well, that’s good. I was getting kind of tired of hearing Draco mutter about revenge techniques all day, so I’m sure it’s hats off to you for taming the Dragon.”
Hermione smiled at the odd nickname. “The Dragon? Is that what his title for you all is?”
“Well, not officially,” he said as they both started walking down the hallway again. “It sort of came into being in fourth year when some witty second-year watched the first Triwizard task and voiced his thoughts about how the Hungarian Horntail was a lot like Draco.”
Hermione laughed. “Poor thing. Draco must have pulverized him.”
“No, actually, he was quite pleased with the analogy, and started referring to himself as The Dragon whenever he wanted to get with a girl, or whenever he was just feeling plain old pompous.”
Hermione laughed again. “Really, Zabini, you know him so well! No wonder you’re both such good friends.”
“You don’t have to call me by my surname,” he said surprisingly as he paused for a moment by her side. “You can call me Blaise.”
“Well, Blaise,” Hermione said cheerfully as she stuck out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Hermione.”
He took her hand. “It’s an honor to finally meet the famous Hermione. May I escort you down this here treacherous and maddening corridor, fair lady?”
She shook her head in happy disbelief before linking her arm through his. “You may, good sire, you may.”
They both walked on, each with his or her wand in the air, diligently making sure that nothing was out of place, when suddenly a slight thumping sound was brought to Hermione’s attention.
“Blaise,” she whispered as she and he froze in place for a second. “Do you hear that noise?”
“Yes,” he whispered back, looking behind him to see if there was anything going on behind their backs.
“Come on, I think it’s this way,” Hermione breathed as she quickly made her way to a normally unlocked classroom. She motioned for Blaise to come closer before whispering in his ear, “I want you to unlock the door fast, and follow me into the classroom.”
He nodded, before pointing his wand at the lock and mumbling, “Alohomora.”
Instantly the lock snapped open, and Hermione burst through the door with her wand at the ready and Blaise at her side.
The sight in front of her was nauseating, but all she registered in that first dim second was that the boy’s hands were around the girl’s throat. Not hesitating for a second, she slashed her wand through the air and screamed, “STUPEFY!”
With a burst of red light, the spell hit the boy directly in the chest and he flew over a couple of desks before colliding with the opposite wall. Looking back over her shoulder, she shouted, "Blaise! Help the girl!" before she saw that Blaise was already busy healing the girl’s thankfully light wounds. So then, with a rage that filled her completely, she towered over the stirring boy with her wand pointed at his face.
“Get up.” she commanded icily as the boy opened his eyes and began to blink erratically. When he didn’t adhere to her words like she expected him to, she flicked her wand and said, “Levicorpus.”
The boy yelled as he was swung upside down in mid-air and the blood began to rush to his face.
Hermione fixed her eyes onto his small, blue ones before saying frigidly, “State your name and year and house.”
“Roger Hoffschwitt, Seventh, Hufflepuff.” he said with a bit of trepidation in his eyes as Hermione regarded him with severe distaste and disgust.
“And what, Roger,” she spat venomously, “Exactly what the bloody hell do you think you were doing?”
“I-I was j-just trying t-to…” he stammered nervously as he watched Hermione twirl her wand between her fingers.
“Trying to what?” she asked with all the dangerous calm of someone who is just barely managing to keep his or her temper under check. “Were you trying to teach her a lesson, Roger? Were you trying to make her regret saying ‘no’ to you? Were you trying to make her feel sorry for not accepting you, hm?”
Roger just hung there, his mouth slightly ajar as her words penetrated the air. Behind her, he could hear the other boy murmuring something to the girl, but he didn’t have the nerves or the courage to try to strain his ears under this witch’s vigilant watch.
“You know, Roger,” she said almost conspiratorially. “I think we should teach you a lesson. Yes, we should…then you could experience the same thing as that wounded girl lying behind me, except that when I’m through with you, no one will even think to lift a finger to aide you. Doesn’t that sound appealing?”
Roger gulped noisily and closed his eyes to brace himself for whatever curse was being thrown his way, but all that Hermione did was flick her wand again, causing him to crash to the floor in a crumpled heap. Then with surprising strength, she picked him up by his collar, pocketed her wand, and then drew back her hand to give him a good, hard slap that left a stinging red mark on his already deep red face.
“Be glad I’m only docking fifty points from Hufflepuff this time. Get out of my sight, Roger Halfwit, before I turn you into the cockroach you so plainly deserve to become.” she growled as she shoved him towards the doorway.
He didn’t need to be told twice. He ran pell-mell out of the classroom while trying to simultaneously do up the top buttons of his trousers. When he’d gone the only noises were of Hermione breathing hard and the girl’s soft moans.
“Hermione,” called Blaise softly from where he was still kneeling beside the girl. “Could you come over here please?”
Hermione swiftly spun around and rushed over to both of them, when her eyes fell on the familiar flaming red hair and the small, lean body.
“Ginny!?”
Ginny slowly opened her eyes as she heard someone gasp her name. She looked up and saw a remotely familiar face gazing down at her, and then a glance at his robes told her he was a Slytherin. A Slytherin holding her in his arms. Huh.
Feebly lifting herself up into more or less a sitting position, she saw that Hermione and Blaise Zabini were both crouched next to her, both of them examining her face anxiously for a reaction. Ginny reached up to massage her head where there was a tremendous amount of aching.
“Ouuuuch,” she groaned.
“Oh, Ginny, babe,” Hermione said soothingly as she lightly touched her friend’s face. “Are you all right now?”
“I’ve been worse, ‘Mione. I’ve played Quidditch with six other brothers, remember?” Ginny joked weakly.
“Come on,” said Blaise as he got her right arm around his neck. “We’ve got to get you to the hospital wing.”
Hermione nodded as she did the same with Ginny’s left arm. Together, Blaise and Hermione supported her as she attempted to stand up, and they held on to her all the way down to hospital wing until they gently put her down on one of the hospital beds.
Blaise went to speak with Madam Pomfrey about the incident while Hermione sat next to her friend and held her hand tightly.
“Gin,” she said softly. “Gin, do you think you could tell me about what happened back there?”
“I don’t know, Hermione,” Ginny replied quietly. “One second I was just walking down the corridor minding my own business, and the next, someone’s slammed his hands over my mouth and dragged me into an abandoned classroom. And I’m sure I don’t have to explain anymore since you guys found me the way I was.”
Hermione’s eyebrows joined together in the middle as she remembered seeing Ginny on the floor with her blouse ripped open and her lips and neck bloodied.
“That fucking bastard,” she whispered fiercely. “Damn him, damn him, just damn him to hell for all of fucking eternity!”
“Calm down, ‘Mione,” Ginny said as she patted her best friend’s hand. “It’s over. He’s not going to try to pull a stunt like this again, and I know you’ve already taught him a lesson as well. Don’t brood over it.”
Hermione reached over and hugged Ginny tightly. “Oh, Gin, you’re so brave. If only everyone had such strength like you.”
Ginny chuckled a little before lying back down and smiling crookedly. “So…his name’s Blaise now, huh?”
“Yeah, we kind of didn’t want to strike up the old ‘I’m a Gryffindor, you’re a Slytherin, naturally I hate you’ thing. He was very sweet, you know. He’s the one who took care of all your wounds while I was teaching that arse-hole Hoffschwitt a lesson.”
“Hmm, I see.”
“You should try talking to him, Gin. He’s really decent, not to mention excessively good looking as well!” Hermione waggled her eyebrows suggestively making them both burst into laughter.
At that moment, Blaise reentered the ward and smiled at both of them. “I’m glad to see you both are so cheerful and gay.”
Both girls squinted at him suspiciously as he hastily raised his hands in front of his chest and cried, “No, no, not like that! Sheesh! Get your minds out of the gutter!”
They all laughed together, and then Blaise turned to Ginny and said quickly, “Uh, Pomfrey says just to get your rest, the headache will be gone in a bit, and she’s already given you a dreamless sleeping potion, so you ought to be well off tonight.”
Hermione smirked at his slightly red face before grabbing his arm and pulling him away.
“Good night, Ginny!” she shouted. “Sleep well, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to tell me, all right?”
Blaise gave her a small wave before wrenching his arm out of Hermione’s grasp and shouting, “Merlin, woman! You don’t have to freaking drag me away!”
For some reason, this struck Hermione as extremely funny, and she kept giggling long after she and Blaise had parted ways, and had lain down on her bed that night.
The next morning was a bit drizzly and gray, but it found Ginny cheerful and smiling in the Great Hall during breakfast. Hermione strode over to her group of friends and greeted them happily.
“Good morning, everyone! Had a good night’s sleep?”
Everyone gave a perfunctory nod or sigh before resuming eating their breakfasts. Hermione glanced at Ginny, asking her with her eyes if she’d told them about the incident from last night. Ginny shook her head minutely and mouthed “No.”
A loud clap suddenly quieted the hall down as Dumbledore approached the stand where he gave his speeches from.
“Attention,” he called as his eyes swept through the tables over his half-moon glasses. “Could Ms. Granger please come up here, along with Mr. Zabini?”
Hermione got to her feet nervously, exchanging a bemused look with Blaise who had also stood up. She began walking towards the front of the hall as Dumbledore continued on.
“Also, could you all please put your hands together for our newest member of the Hogwarts family, Al –”
Suddenly, everyone gasped. Hermione had tripped over something in the middle of the aisle, and was now sliding very fast, headfirst, towards the golden stand where Dumbledore was speaking. But before anyone could move, she’d crashed into it, and without delay, blood began seeping from out of her curls and spreading across the floor. Her eyes were closed, and her leg was twisted at a peculiar angle.
Instantly, Draco (who had been sitting near the end of the Slytherin table) began sprinting towards her, but before he could reach her, someone else had already gathered her up into his arms…
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, guys! You all are really great! I tried to make this chapter a little longer, so please, make me feel appreciated by adding in your little tidbits. See you guys tomorrow for the next chapters!
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