Magnetic Attraction - Chapter Three

A/N: I hope you’re enjoying this story, it’s hard to write, but it’s fun to plan. In this one, we see the return of innocent Draco, eventually, and we once again see the other two thirds of the golden trio. Anyway, I’ll just start.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter. Um.. duh?

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Chapter 3: Acting

Never in her life had Hermione Granger had a better good night sleep. When she opened her eyes, she felt rejuvenated and ready to do anything. There were at least a dozen beams of light spilling into the room by way of the window, and it seemed most of which focused on Draco, bathing him in the golden sun. He was still clutching her palm in his own, and an actual sleep induced smile graced his features. Never in her life had she seen such an amazing sight, and felt blessed to be the one to see it. She glanced over his shoulder at the alarm clock, 7 am. Time to get up.

“Draco,” she whispered, but he didn’t stir. A little louder this time, she repeated, “Draco.” He shifted slightly and mumbled something incoherent, but still didn’t open his eyes. “Draco!” He grunted and sleepily opened an eye, still glazed with rest. “Morning.”

“Wa tims it?” he mumbled, raising his free hand to rub his eyes.

“7:01,” she replied, sitting up in bed. He cracked open his other eye and yawned, stretching his arms over his head.

“Why’d you wake me up so early?” She rolled her eyes and poked him in the side.

“Because we both have to get ready for class and it’s going to take twice as long because of the attraction.” He blinked up at her wearily, secretly agreeing with her. “And I figured out how to solve our “Table” discussion, by the way,” she added.

“And how’s that?”

“Breakfast at Gryffindor table, since the boys are easier to deal with in the morning, and lunch at Slytherin. We can alternate dinner each day.” He sat up, the quilt pooling in his lap. She looked away from his bare chest, blushing.

“That sounds fair.” He reached for his wand and magicked his hair flat. Hermione tutted as she pulled herself out from under the covers. When her feet touched the floor he added, “I’m getting ready first.” He got up and pulled her back over the bed to stand next to him. Her dress caught under her knee and slid down an inch or two, bearing some of her cleavage. He smirked and raised an eyebrow. Pulling the gown back up she growled,

“Says who?” But he was already dragging her out the door and across the hall to his room. It was messy, green, and everything her’s was not.

“Says me,” he responded. It was too early for him to think up witty retorts, and instead he busied himself by searching his armoire for an ironed button down shirt. “And anyway, the thing that will take the most time is your damn hair, so we can leave that for last, ok?” He pulled a gray polo shirt off a silk hanger and began rummaging for a pair of gray trousers.

“Whatever.” He pulled her over to his dresser and stepped on her foot to open a drawer. It took her a moment to realize that she was staring at Draco Malfoy’s underwear drawer. Oh the horror! Fishing around for his favorite pair of black boxer shorts, he remembered that this was Granger he was holding hands with still. Foot firmly in place, he dropped her wrist, grabbed the clothing he was looking for, and mumbled,

“Dress me.” Satisfied with his reflection, he found a pair of socks and reached for another set of uniform robes before pulling her out the door.

“You forgot your tie,” she said with a smirk. He reentered her room and bent over to pull his tie out of the pile of clothing he had dropped the night before. Standing up, he waved the tie from the previous day in her face and said,

“I’m wearing this one.” She huffed and pulled him over to her dresser and got out her own outfit as he knotted it around his neck and wrapped his robe around him. She used the same spell as he did to change, and then dragged him over to her closet to find her own robe and tie. “Hey Hermione?” She glanced over her shoulder at him, beckoning for him to go on. As she entered the bathroom he said, “Do you have any classes that I’m not in?” She began to brush her teeth.

“Muggle studies.” He groaned.

“Can you please drop the class? I don’t feel like learning about neurotic lesser beings.” She slapped him on the arm and spat into the sink.

“Think of it as a free period to get work done. Then we can spend more time in the library doing research. I’m just sure that Dumbledore isn’t telling us something! He was positively beaming last night!” He scowled at her.

“Both Flitwick and Dumbledore kept saying, there’s nothing I can do. There’s probably some annoyingly revolting cure they aren’t sharing,” he provided, leaning closer to the mirror in order to examine his stubble covered chin. Pulling his wand from his pocket, he said, “Shavionatious.” Never one to turn away from a spell she didn’t know, Hermione watched as his chin was left clean. “Come on Hermione, get a move on,” he whined as she ran a brush through her hair. The bristles got stuck, however, and she winced, tugging on the handle. It didn’t come out. Disgusted, he pronounced, “directement lockorous.” Her hair instantly became clean and wavy, framing her face perfectly. The brush tumbled to the floor and he bent down to pick it up as she examined his work in the mirror.

“It’s not greasy.”

“It only gets greasy if the spell isn’t done correctly,” he told her smugly. She reached for the bowl holding elastics but he added, “No, it looks better down.” She turned to face him, eyebrows raised. Oops. Panicked, he said, “Maybe now Weasel will finally notice you.”

“Was there a complement hidden in there?” she asked quietly, staring up into his eyes. There was something hopeful in her brown pupils, a little amount of longing even. He wanted to say, Yes! You’re beautiful and I hate that! Weasely isn’t good enough for you, you should be with someone better! Instead he looked at his feet, ashamed of his trail of thought and where it was leading him.

“Of course not, mudblood, don’t be dense.” The light in her eyes faded, and she sighed regretfully. “Come on, let’s get our stuff and head downstairs.” She trailed along behind him and followed him out into the common room, where he gathered assorted pieces of parchment and quills before sliding them into his leather book bag. She waited patiently for him to finish before collecting her own supplies. He sat down on the table and took her hand in order to tie on his shoes. It wasn’t exactly easy to do one handed. She slid on her Mary Janes and watched with a smirk similar to his own as he struggled with the laces.

“Need help?” He glared at her, eyes plainly saying fuck off.

“I’m guessing there’s a spell that I don’t know or something, which you would be oh so willing to share?” She continued smirking, giggling softly as he knotted his laces together. “Well, go on then.” She pulled out her wand, did a small figure eight in the air with it, and exclaimed,

“Knotious Laconious.” Draco sighed as he watched her perfect spell work. The sneakers bound themselves to his feet and double knotted themselves before the laces lost their animation and flopped over. “Maybe from now on you should stick with Velcro.” He looked up at her, confused.

“Velcro?” She groaned and smacked herself on the forehead.

“You really do need muggle studies. Anyway, let’s go and get this over with then head to the library.” He chuckled and flicked his hair out of his steel gray eyes. “What?”

“That’s what you do, isn’t it? You shovel down a muffin before Weasel traipses in with his arm candy, then bolt out to sulk in the library!” There were no words to describe how low Hermione felt at that moment. He was dead on right. Not even her friends had noticed her self-destructive behavior, but this boy who hardly knew her seemed to know her better that either Harry or Ron. She looked down at her simple shoes, wishing she were someone else, someone special enough to catch Ron’s eye, someone who wasn’t in this situation. “Well for your information, if you’re planning on holing up in the library then you are sorely mistaken.” Saddened but empowered, she looked up to match his gaze. With an amount of shock, she could see pity for her in his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she growled, her voice as cool and icy as his.

“Fine, play dumb. But here’s a little food for thought. What would happen if Weasel realized that you wouldn’t always be standing devoted at his side? Now that I’m in the picture, you’re not going to be spending as much time with him and Potty, and I dare say they’ll miss not having you around to check their homework. If I may say it, they might just get a little jealous that I stole you from them.” He was beaming now, it was quite frightening. “Even if you were a little friendly to me, or if I let slip our sleeping arrangements, they might burst.” He raised her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss against it. He watched her shiver, his mind reeling with ideas. “Care for a little sweet revenge, Hermione?” He was absolutely right. She could cause some major damage by simply calling Malfoy “Draco” over breakfast. Ron’s face would turn purple. She’d get his attention for sure. But this was like the ultimate betrayal! Ah, fuck them. It’s their fault for not saving her a seat in charms.

“I’ll think about it, Malf- Draco.” He nodded, than stood up off the table, yanking her up with him. She followed him out of the common room and into the hallway. “But for now we may want to come up with a way to show the school why we’re holding hands.” He glanced at her briefly, before turning a corner.

“How about we just accidentally forget about the attraction and let the school witness the consequences?” he proposed. “Then they’d see we’re not exactly enjoying this stupid mess and that we’re just putting up with it.” She sighed and looked down at their joined fingers.

“I suppose that’s the only way.” Falling on top of him in front of the whole school and staff would not be a pleasant experience. She could just picture the look on his face, eyes blazing with satisfaction, his smirk spreading across his face. Draco noticed the scowl creeping onto her face and released her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

“Come on, Granger, it could be fun! Think of yourself as an entertainer! You can get mad at me, and I’ll call you a mudblood. You can shove me and I’ll fall over and bring you down with me.” An entertainer? Ha! She was an entertainer, hiding who she was behind her books and bushy hair. What did he know about acting? Well, she’d show him, wouldn’t she?

“Fine, but don’t physically harm me, I don’t feel like getting a detention with you,” she spat, shrugging his arm off her while finding his hand. He smirked, as per usual. “And don’t sit there gloating during breakfast, the boys will attack you.” A single lock of wavy hair swung into her eyes as they neared the doors to the Great Hall. She blew it away impatiently, only to have it dangle in front of her again. Draco turned and brushed it behind her ear. She scowled at him, locked his hand in her own, and threw open the doors with a loud bang. Every head in the hall swiveled in their direction, but she paid no attention, concentrating on her performance. She’d give him acting. Her face screwed up in sudden anger as she whirled around and yelled, “Oh would you drop it Malfoy, I told you I don’t know the name of Harry’s shampoo, ask him yourself!” Absolutely stunned, Draco struggled to ignore the muffled laughter that rose from the students. Hermione inwardly grinned, memorizing the look of shock and confusion on his face.

“Well, I’m sorry Granger, I just thought that your cat could use a bloody bath!” he snapped back sarcastically, his face returning to its normal icy exterior. Oh, she wanted to play, did she? “Not that I’d expect a filthy mudblood like yourself to know about hygiene.” The laugher stopped, replaced by murmurings of, “he did not just go there!”

Should I yell at him, slap him, or shove him as planned? She thought, trying to keep her face livid. She was pissed, but she knew that for once he was just playing. His expression was harsh, but his eyes were laughing. So she yanked her hand from his and gave him a sharp push in the gut. He’d expected it, so he exaggerated his fall, stumbling backwards several steps before keeling over, to strengthen the attraction.

Instantly, she was thrown off her feet to lie awkwardly on top of him. Somehow she’d ended up straddling him, much like their position in charms the previous day, but now her face was barely an inch from his, their noses touching. He winked at her, before howling, “Get off me Granger!”

“What do you think I’m trying to do? Give me your bloody hand!” His palm found hers and she gripped it tightly, before pulling him up beside her. Draco sent her a mock glare that fooled everyone but her, and followed her over to the Gryffindor table, where he grudgingly sat down across from a stunned Harry and Ron. Ginny was perched on Harry’s lap, and smiled warmly at the two teenagers.

“Morning guys,” Hermione said, reaching for a jug of water. Ron blinked while Harry scowled as if he smelled something fowl. Draco rolled his eyes and scoffed, subtly putting his hand on the table so the other two thirds of the Golden Trio could see Hermione clutching his. Ron’s face grew a Slytherinish color of green. Wondering if I could get any darker, Draco leaned close to Hermione and whispered,

“You’re a good actress,” into her ear. He made sure his lips brushed her cheek just enough to make any horny teenage boy jump to conclusions. It worked and Ron’s freckled complexion began to switch to that of Barney.

“You have no idea,” she whispered back. “And stop trying to insinuate things.” Ginny and Harry had returned to eating silently, realizing that there was nothing they could do to remove the trespassing Malfoy. However, Ron wasn’t so smart.

“Why are you sitting here?” he snapped, and both Hermione and Draco jerked their heads up. The red head looked flustered, as if he had been told Snape was his real father.

“Would you rather I dragged Granger to sit with the big bad Slytherins for breakfast?” Draco cooed with a smirk. Ron reached for his wand, but Lavender placed her hand on his arm. Ron reluctantly backed off, but Draco was just getting started. Weasel and Potty should realize how much they’ve alienated Granger, he thought. They don’t get to be in denial. “Then again, that’s what you’ve been doing all week, not saving her a seat and all.” This was exactly what Hermione had feared. She was highly tempted to smack him on the back of the head, but for some reason she wanted to hear what her two friends would actually say in their defense. Harry jumped in.

“We never ditch Hermione!” Draco’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t rush to arm himself out of a newfound respect for the girl next to him.

“Then why is it that I’m magnetically attracted to her?” Fortunately, no one got a chance to think of a retort, since the daily Owl post arrived. They all instinctively looked up, although the only person to receive anything was the blond. A harassed looking owl descended through the crowd to land in front of his plate, carrying two scrolls. One was sealed with a Hogwarts crest, while the other the logo for St. Mungos. He tried to stare it down, but the owl clucked its beak impatiently, and bit his finger, on the hand covering Hermione’s. The boy yelped and drew his hand away, looking for blood. Knowing this would trigger the attraction, she placed her hand on his shoulder so as to deflect it before it started. Ginny leaned over to pull away the two scrolls as Draco hissed at his now bleeding finger, while pulling out his wand to heal it. She gave them to Hermione, who waited patiently for him to stop whimpering before handing them to him. He unfurled the Hogwarts scroll first, figuring it the lesser of two evils.

Hermione watched as his face grew darker and darker. She knew what ever was written on that parchment was not good news, and her uneasiness grew. The other three weren’t watching, but she could see sadness well up in the gray depths of his eyes. However stoic his face remained, there was something wrong. But he silently rolled up the scroll and dropped it into his black leather bag, along with the unopened second one, and stared at his knees.

“What is it?” Hermione whispered quietly. Looking at the two boys across from them to check they weren’t listening, he turned slightly in his seat to whisper,

“Get me out of here,” in return. His tone was urgent, and she mover her hand back down to his, concerned.

“Follow my lead.” She turned back to the other three. “Well, you’ll have to excuse us, we’re off to the library to do research.” The two boys shrugged as Hermione stood up. Draco stood us next to her, his grip on her hand much tighter. “See you later.” He had already begun to stalk away, eyes focused on the doors. She trailed along after him, seriously fearing whatever he would tell her when the doors closed. As soon as they exited the hall, he gently closed the doors with a small click, before turning his back to Hermione and climbing the marble steps of the stairway.

“Draco, what is it?” she asked quietly. He ignored her and continued climbing, his expensive shoes clacking with every step. This was familiar; Harry had done this when Sirius had died. But who did Draco have left to lose? “Draco!” He was on the top step now, still walking. “DRACO!” He gave her no reaction. “Oh honestly!” Making sure they were both a safe distance from the stairs, she wrenched her hand from his steel grip, causing him to come catapulting backward onto her. Groaning, he struggled to find her hand, but she didn’t give it to him. Frantic now, he let out a frustrated sounding growl. She stared up at him (easy to do seeing as he was straddling her stomach) and told him, “I’m not letting you get up until you tell me what’s wrong!” He made another dive for her hand, but she rolled away, causing him to topple over, with her on top of him as well as pinning down his hands. He couldn’t even manage to glare at her. Instead he lay his head down on the stone floor and firmly shut his eyes, forcing back so much emotion. “Please Draco. What happened?” Her voice was soft, loving. It reminded him of his mother. That did it, a small tear leaked from the corner of his eye.

“Oh no, Draco, don’t cry. Don’t cry, let me help you.”

“She’s gone. My- my mother, she’s just- gone,” he whispered, hesitantly opening an eye. Hermione’s eyes weren’t filled with hate or pity, just concern. “I knew it was coming, but- but I didn’t even get to say good- goodbye.” His words were so frighteningly innocent, so human. She knew Harry would hate her for it, she knew Ron would never accept it, but she really wanted to comfort this… this lonely friendless boy with no one to turn to. Slowly, she found his wrist and squeezed it gently, before rolling off him. Hermione stood up and supported his back as he did the same.

“Follow me, we’re going somewhere.”