No Consequences
You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend
And you say he's just a friend, oh baby
You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend
But you say he's just a friend, oh baby
You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend
But you say he's just a friend
(Just A Friend-Bizmarkie)
"I'm looking for something that you might have," Hermione said, standing in Draco's room. Draco was leaning back in his chair, feet propped on his desk, hands woven behind his head.
"Wow. I didn't think you took my comment in the library seriously."
"Don't be disgusting," she rolled her eyes. "The chances of us in bed together are extremely thin."
"Have I told you I'm a gambling man? We don't have to use the bed," he shrugged, "I can shove you up against that wall if you prefer--." Hermione cut him off.
"Where is it Malfoy?" she demanded.
"Where is what?" he asked innocently.
"You know what I'm talking about."
"Folded up piece of old parchment?" he feigned guessing. "Blank?" he added with emphasis. "What is so special about it that has Potty and Weasel scouring the Slytherin dorms for before he sends you here." Hermione shifted her weight and Draco rose an eyebrow. "Oh, Potty doesn't know you're here," he said as he stood up and walked over to her.
"Where is it Draco?"
He stopped in front of her. "If this thing is so important to you guys, why would I give it up to you?"
"Carte blanche, remember?"
"Ah yes, Carte Blanche," he said quietly. "And you're cashing it in for this? I was hoping you would save it for something else."
Hermione sighed and moved past him to his desk, opening the drawer and sifting through it. Draco turned around and watched her.
"You're cold," he said plainly.
Hermione looked up at him. She felt fine. "What?"
"It's not near the desk, you're cold," he said impatiently as if he were speaking to a child.
Hermione closed the drawer and walked to his bookshelf ("Cold"), then his bureau ("Cold"), then his, ugh, bed ("Unfortunately like ice"). Hermione marched over to him, eyes narrowed.
"Where is it Draco?" she demanded.
"Definitely warmer," he smirked.
Hermione stared at him. Okay, she could play this game. Draco opened his arms to either side of him and she reached out, her hand hovering above his left arm and moved closer to his chest.
"Warmer."
Her hand hovered over his chest as she looked into his grey eyes. Her hand moved lower ("Getting warmer") past his pectorals to his lower ribs and stopping at his navel.
"Much warmer," he whispered, stepping closer to her.
Hermione sighed impatiently. "Is it in your trousers?"
Draco let a small smile grow on his face. "Now look who's being disgusting." She tilted her head. "Fine, it's in my pocket."
"Then get it," she said.
"No, you get it. You wanted Carte Blanche, for me to give you the parchment but you didn't say how."
Hermione stared at him. "Fine," she said, calling his bluff. Her fingers reached out and rested against the fabric rim of his pocket. Just do it, wash your hands thoroughly after this and give Harry a stern lecture on protecting his belongings. She slipped her hand in and fished for the parchment, feeling instead, through the fabric….something else.
She yanked her hand free.
"Damn it Draco!" she cursed. "You're such a sick bastard!"
Draco laughed and moved past her. "You walked right into that one Granger." He stopped in front of the bookshelf and selected one book, opening it. "Didn't think you were that naïve." He thumbed through it and stopped at a page where the parchment stuck out. He waved his wand over it and the parchment came free.
"A sticking charm?" Hermione asked, taking the parchment from him.
"A powerful one," he answered. "Don't be so trusting in people. Everyone has their own motivations behind many of the things they do, their own agenda. You'd be surprised what people do in the name of good. Including Potty."
"How dare you!" Hermione whirled on him.
"Come on Granger, let's stop turning a blind eye when it concerns him. You and I both know what he's capable of, whom he bears an eerie resemblance to magically speaking, hell I even heard he has his own pet snake."
"Harry is nothing like him!"
"Is that what Potty says?" he asked and a memory came to Hermione about something Harry had said when they had visited Tom Riddle's orphanage. Draco continued. "And then there's the matter of placing a tracking charm on your best friend…very honorable and moral indeed."
Hermione didn't even bother correcting him. "Everyone has their darker side, Draco."
Draco stepped up closer, standing directly in front of her. "Yes but Potter's is a bit more darker than others."
"Harry would never-"
"Of all people, I know exactly what Potter is capable of," he said quietly, remembering what Potter had done to him in the girl's lavatory last year.
Hermione stuffed the parchment in her robes and left the room.
It was very late when she entered the Gryffindor common room and snuck into the seventh year boy's dormitory. Neville and Ron were making a racket with their snoring, Dean was solving the problem by placing his headphones over his ears, blocking out the sound. Seamus and Harry had the curtains drawn around their beds, probably with charms up to keep the sound out. She tiptoed across the room and knelt in front of Harry's trunk. Isis slid out from under the bed, giving her a start.
"Isis!" she whispered, holding a hand to her chest. "Believe me, it's best he doesn't know who got it back," she said as she opened his trunk and slipped the Map back inside. Closing it, she looked up…and froze.
Harry's glasses were not on the nightstand.
Almost as soon as she thought this, a hand reached out and yanked her past the bed coverings. She landed on the bed as she cried out in surprise.
"Shh!" Harry said, covering her mouth and listening to see if she had disturbed any of his roommates. They were both standing on their knees on his bed.
"What were you doing sneaking into my trunk?" he asked her when all was well. He spoke in a normal voice level because of the silencing charms.
"I wasn't sneaking into your trunk," she said.
"Oh really?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "What do you call skulking about when everyone's asleep getting into my trunk?"
"What were you looking for in his room earlier?" she replied.
"The Map."
"Before that Harry."
"I asked you first."
She moved the Map behind her back. She could give it to him later. "It's late," she said, "I'm going to bed."
With quick Seeker movements, he reached behind Hermione's back, grabbing her wrist, the momentum causing them both to tumble onto the bed. Harry had Hermione pinned below him, one hand on her wrist, the other at her side for balance. Hermione's heart raced in her chest, feeling his familiar weight above her. Harry's eyes wandered over her face, landing finally on her lips that were slightly parted. Desire coursed through him and he felt his body reacting to hers instinctively as she shifted slightly underneath him. His thumb brushed the bottom of her shirt and he could feel the heat of her body so close to his fingers. It would be so easy to just give in, kiss her, touch her, make love to her again.
But whatever blood left over that didn't completely go south reminded him that there was something in his hand and he looked above her to see the Marauder's Map.
"You got it back?" he asked and she nodded. "How?"
Hermione smiled, deciding she would have a little fun with him. "I have my ways."
In a possessive instinctual reaction he pressed himself a little closer to her, delighting her and giving her a small victory before Harry realized what he had done and scrambled off of her. She missed him immediately but it was too painful to stay in such close proximity to him. She smoothed her skirt back down and began to scoot of his bed. Harry reached out for her, stopping her by holding her forearm.
"Please Hermione. I'm asking you to stay away from Malfoy. He's dangerous."
Hermione smirked. "Funny, he said the same about you," she said and slid out of his bed.
"Ooh, you had a girl in your bed," Isis hissed as she slithered up his night stand.
"Nothing happened," Harry sighed.
"Aren't you disssapointed," she teased.
"Not going there with her again," Harry replied, his voice muffled on his pillow. "We're working on our friendship and we're not crossing those lines any time soon…if ever."
"Excussse the disssgusssting phrassse but I think you are beating a dead horssse, Harry," she hissed. "I think you two have already crosssssed that line long ago."
~*~
Harry would run into Draco the next day on his way to DADA. He was walking down the corridor, surrounded by his entourage when Harry and Ron made their way up to him.
"How did she do it?" Harry asked him, unafraid of the disapproving looks the other Slytherins were giving him. "How did she get you to give up the parchment?"
Draco smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Harry grabbed the front of his shirt with his two fists. "You don't do anything for nothing so what did you ask for in exchange?"
"Nothing she wasn't already willing to do," Draco grinned.
Harry shoved him up against the wall as several students cried out in shock. "I'm not playing Malfoy. Do not piss me off and just answer the fucking question."
"Get your hands off me Snake Boy," Draco hissed. Okay that was it. Harry drew back his fist and struck Malfoy across the face. Draco cried out in pain as she slumped to the floor.
Hermione came running over with Lavender. "Harry! What happened?" Just as Professor Smith opened the door to witness the hit.
"Mr. Potter!" she scolded. "Detention for three nights! Miss Granger, take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing."
Hermione mercilessly yanked Draco to his feet as the other students began to file into the classroom. Harry gave one more warning look to Malfoy before following Ron into the room.
"You know that I have half a mind to agree that you deserved that," she said to the Slytherin.
"Whad are you dalking aboud? He addacked me!"
"You provoked him!"
"I didn'd dink he'd be so jealous!" Draco still had his hand covering his nose.
"He's not jealous, he's just protective of his friends. You didn't help matters by goading him," she lectured.
"Did you wand me do dell him aboud our liddle game of hod and cowd?" he asked. "I dot you radder enjoyed id."
"Oh yeah, it was a real fun time. So much so that I was in such a hurry to leave."
"Whadeber."
Hermione had to listen to the Ferret cry and moan to Madame Pomfrey about how Harry broke his nose and how it would never be perfect again. Madame Pomfrey assured him that she would fix him up good as new but upon inspection of her handiwork, Draco swore that his nose was a little off center.
"Well, I think you'll just have to find a new job other than Voldemort's boy toy," Hermione sighed.
"Very funny Granger. I take great pride in my looks, unlike some people I know."
*
Harry didn't see Hermione until after DADA and even then she seemed to be avoiding him.
"I think she's mad at me," he said to Ron.
"Really?" Ron said wryly. "What was your first clue?"
"I'm going to go and talk to her."
"Good luck with that."
He cornered her just as everyone was headed to their common rooms to study. "Not the person I want to see right now," she said.
"Okay," Harry said holding his hands up. "But can you really be mad at me for what I did to the Ferret? The things he was insinuating…"
"Harry, I'm pissed because I had to endure over an hour of his moaning and whining."
"Sorry," he said apologetically.
"Just do me a favor, the next person you put in the hospital wing, make sure that it's someone companionable, someone I can stand?"
"Note taken," he replied and grinned at her, making her insides turn to goo. She looked away from him.
"Yeah well, just for the record, I had Carte Blanche over him. I had done him a favor earlier and he owed me one. That's all, that's how I got it back."
"Really?" he asked, relieved.
"Really." She wasn't even going to tell him about the little stunt Draco had pulled with her. Harry would probably blow a gasket or something.
"Listen, how about I come by after detention and give you the notes for today's DADA class?" Harry offered.
"You took notes?" Hermione crossed her arms and gave him a small smile.
"Just for you," he said. "And then maybe after, you could help me with my Transfiguration paper?" he asked hopefully.
"Ah-ha! I knew there was an ulterior motive to your note-taking," she teased.
"Thanks Hermione," he grinned like a schoolboy and took off down the corridor.
Ron had been watching this exchange with some interest. Yes, he admitted that he was a bit jealous when he found out that he and Hermione had fooled around during the summer. And yes, a part of him was glad that Harry decided to try and start things up again with Ginny when he came back to Hogwarts.
But there were only two times that he had seen his best friend be genuinely happy. 1.) When he was playing quidditch and 2.) When he was spending time with Hermione. Maybe it should've always been Hermione and maybe deep down he already knew that. Hermione was Harry's number one and most loyal supporter and Harry…Harry would've risked his friendship with him for her. Ron believed that he and Harry had a solid friendship, he was practically a brother to him and yet there was something stronger than their bond of brotherhood that drew him to Hermione. And he couldn't exactly chalk it up to hormones, their friendship was stronger than that. Harry wouldn't risk that for some snog time with any bird.
~*~
Hermione stared at herself in the mirror. "He's just a friend. He's just a friend. He's just a friend. He's your best friend." That's right. Just repeating that. It would justify why your hair is tamed into gentle curls, why you're wearing lacy underwear and bra, why you're wearing the jeans that make your ass look good, why you are wearing the tight fitting cardigan with the top two buttons undone and why you painted your toenails.
Oh and why you shaved your legs.
She wiped her hands on her legs and paced the room yet again until her heart stopped when she heard the portrait door swing open and he walked through looking so very wonderful and delectable.
Harry forcibly reminded himself to close his mouth when he saw her standing in front of him. "Er…" he swallowed audibly, "hullo, Hermione."
"Hi Harry! Are you ready to get busy?"
Down boy, that's not what she meant. "Yeah sure." He suddenly felt very warm in this room and it became awkward to sit next to her. Not awkward like he didn't want to, awkward as in he was going to have to physically restrain himself from kissing the hell out of her and obliterating any chance they had at repairing their friendship.
Hermione had placed her books on the coffee table so they could sit down on the plushy rug. Harry sat down first and she, to his surprise, sat down right next to him. So very close to him.
"Yeah, okay," Harry had to gain composure. "So, here are my notes," he said, handing them over to her.
"Oh thanks Harry!" she said, taking the notes from him. She rolled out a fresh piece of parchment and reached over to get her quill and ink. She purposely brushed against him with her arm as she did so and Harry jumped in response.
Snape in a dress. Snape in a dress. Snape in a dress. He really needed to pull himself together. His resolve was quickly falling apart and he was clinging to every shred of moral fiber he could hold onto. Thankfully, she began scratching away and he had time to get rid of the evidence of his reaction to her. Until she looked up from her writing and turned toward him.
"Does this say `…persistence and planning?" she asked.
Oh Merlin's beard. He could see her cleavage and his thoughts immediately headed south. "Patience and planning," he said hastily and jumped to his feet, grabbing his bookbag and holding it in front of him. Hermione was surprised at Harry's action.
"Harry, what's the matter?" she asked.
"Look, I've got to get going. I'm really tired. Just keep those notes and I'll get them back from you tomorrow, okay?" he quickly fired off as he stumbled backward out of the room.
Hermione stared at the empty spot that her friend only moments ago had occupied. "What on earth just happened?" she wondered aloud. Were her advances too obvious? Was he awkward about the whole thing? She groaned and held her head in her hands. Maybe that was it. He had caught on early about what she was doing and quickly made his retreat. Of course.
Oh, what was she thinking? He had just recently broke up with Ginny, maybe he wasn't ready for something else, maybe he still had feelings for the fiery red head. Maybe what had happened at Grimmauld Place was some big mistake that he was desperately trying to forget.
She didn't even realize she was crying until she absently wiped her cheek and felt the wetness there.
*
Ron looked up as Harry walked into the common room. "Hey Harry. I thought you were studying with Hermione?"
"Yeah, I'm a bit tired so we cut it short," he answered, still in an agitated state.
"Are you alright?" Ron asked.
"Yeah!" he squeaked then cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Okaaay. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about Hermione."
"Hermione? What about her? Listen can't this wait until tomorrow? I'm really tired."
Ron ignored him. "What do you think about her?"
"What do you mean `what do I think about her'?" He just wanted to get away and hide.
"Well, I mean, after all that has happened between you two…don't you think of her differently?"
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ron, I'm not having this conversation. I'm going to go upstairs and get some much needed rest and forget that we ever talked about this, okay?"
"But Harry--."
But Harry had already jogged up the stairs and slammed the door.
~*~
So it was with an odd tension between Harry and Hermione that Ron had to put up with the next day. The two of them would never be in the same place at the same time if they could pull it off.
"Hey, psst, Hermione," Neville whispered from behind her in potions class. Hermione turned around.
"What?" she mouthed.
"Are you okay?" he mouthed back.
"I'm fine."
"The Inhibitus potion," Slughorn said, bringing her attention face forward. "It lowers a person's inhibitions by befuddling the senses with a sense of euphoria. A slight high if you will…"
A rolled up piece of parchment flew across the room and landed at Harry's table where he was desperately willing himself not to stare at Hermione. He picked it up and unfurled it, revealing Malfoy's familiar scrawl in a game of Hangman where a likeness of himself was drawn in stick figure, swaying back and forth in an unseen breeze, dangling from a noose. There appeared to be blood dripping from his scar. Harry rolled his eyes and crushed the piece of paper in his hand. He looked up to see Hermione looking at him with concern on her face. Harry shook his head, telling her that it was nothing.
"You're potion should be thick, the consistency of honey, it should look like honey. It tastes like honey as well. Bottle a sample of what you have and bring it to me," the professor announced as everyone began to clean up. "Remember, I want a two parchment report on the various uses of the Inhibitus in foods and products we commonly use."
Draco took out a small glass vial and ladled some of the potion into it, corked it then slipped it into his robes. He took another vial up to the professor. Harry gazed at his potion and saw that, although it looked like honey, it was a bit runny. Hermione's, of course was perfect and surprisingly too, was Neville's.
Harry caught Hermione and Neville just outside of class. "Hey, um, I was wondering if we could get together again tonight. I feel real bad about cutting our studying short last time and I could really use the help with the Transfiguration."
"Oh, um, I sort of promised Neville I would help him with the essay," she said.
"Oh, right," Harry said softly. Neville stood between them like an awkward third wheel.
"You know, he could join us--."
"No, that's okay Neville," Hermione said. "I've got rounds tonight so…We should head to our next class," she said, prodding Neville forward. The young man looked back at Harry and gave him an apologetic look.
Harry sighed and leaned back against the wall, banging his head slightly against it, repeatedly. Now what was he going to do? The essay was due tomorrow. And furthermore, it seemed as if Hermione wanted his company as much as she wanted the company of one of Hagrid's creatures.
*
The idea came to Ron that afternoon when he was "studying" with Luna. To his credit, there was some reading interspersed with some snogging and now he was just waiting in the library with her for Hermione so he could get to work on his essay. Neville and his sister were sitting at another table. Luna looked up at Ron watching the couple.
"Relax Ron, Neville is a good guy for your sister and she's crazy about him," she said.
"I'm not worried. It's just a never thought that they would get together," he said.
"Why not? Anyone could see that he really liked her and it took Hermione, although in a round about way, to get Ginny to notice him."
It was light the clouds had parted in Ron's mind letting in a ray of sunshine. Maybe that's what Harry needed to notice Hermione. She had already confessed to him that she had more than friends feelings for their other best friend and he knew that Harry returned those feeling somewhat. He just needed to hit his friend with a proverbial bludger to get him to say something to her.
"Hogsmeade weekend is coming up, right?" he asked Luna.
"Yeah, last one before the holiday break," she replied.
"How would you like to go to that new Italian place?" he asked.
She smiled. "Is that a date?"
"A group one. I was planning on inviting a couple of other people."
"Sure, I'd love to go."
Hermione walked into the room and waved to Ron as she sat down next to Ginny and Neville, exchanging a few pleasantries with his sister until Luna got up from the table. "I'll see you later Ronald," Luna said then went to the other table to collect Ginny for their Astronomy class.
Seeing that Hermione and Neville were busy studying, Ron quickly packed his book bag and left the library. He made his way through the halls until he stood in front of Edwina's portrait.
"I'm here to see Ernie," he announced to her. "Is he here?" She ducked away and a few moments later, the door opened and Ernie peered out.
"Hey Ron, what can I do for you?" he asked.
"Do you have any plans for Hogsmeade this weekend?" Ron asked.
*
Harry was counting down the minutes until his detention was over. Not that he wasn't enjoying the company but Professor Smith had a way of making him really want to check out the rules on student-teacher relations in Hogwarts: A History. Right now, she was making him go through an obstacle course similar to the ones he had through during his training as an auror. He finished the last Dark Wizard and the lights went up inside the Room of Reequirement, the place they had been using for his detentions.
"Much better," Professor Smith said as she sauntered up to him in her tight leather skirt and bustier wearing black Fuck-Me stilettos. McGonagall really should monitor what teachers are allowed to wear, Harry thought miserably. His normal teenage hormonal reaction to her was tamped down by the fatigue of the obstacle course.
"I think we're done for tonight," Professor Smith said lazily as if she had better things to do with her time. "You're still a little rusty on your wandless spell casting, one need to look at your face to see what sort of spell you will cast. Learn to mask your emotions." She walked to the door. "See you tomorrow night."
As soon as the door closed Harry collapsed on the cool floor. He was hot, tired and exhausted. He could feel the room transform into the bath that he needed, a bath that modeled the Prefect's one. He took off his trainers and socks, slid his sweatpants and his boxers down his legs. The water in the bath looked cool and inviting and he was greatly anticipating his first dive into it. He took off his sweaty t-shirt and his senses went on high alert when he realized he was not alone in the room.
"Hermione!" he exclaimed, grabbing a towel and holding it in front of him.
She was wearing a very short figure-hugging black skirt, black tank and boots then went up to just below her knee. She was standing by the door, her hand reached out and clicked the lock on the door.
"Not exactly," she said with a coquettish smile. She approached him, swaying toward him with a predatory gleam in her eyes. Harry backed away from her.
"If not Hermione, then who?" he asked.
She shrugged. "You tell me, you're the one who manifested me."
"M-manifested you?" Harry stuttered.
Psuedo-Hermione waved her hands around her. "This is the Room of Requirement," she said. She propped a leg on the bench and slowly unzipped her boot. Harry gulped audibly.
"I-I created you?" he asked.
"And I must give you credit, not everyone can do that," she said as she unzipped the other boot. "It's been at least eleven years since someone could conjure me up. Your subconscious must really want this badly." She reached behind her and unzipped her skirt.
Harry held out his hand. "Wait, wait, wait! I summoned you in the form of…Hermione?"
Psuedo-Hermione smiled. "There were others in your mind," she said as she morphed into Professor Smith then Ginny then Cho before morphing back into Hermione. "But this one was the strongest in your mind." The skirt fell down her legs, pooling at her ankles as she stepped out of them. She was wearing that damned lacy black hipster that fueled his desire and resulted in many a frustrated night and messy sheets. She crossed her arms at the hem of her shirt and brought it over her head revealing the matching bra to complete the set. She tossed the shirt to Harry who caught it. It even smelled of Hermione. He dropped the garment quickly as if it had burned him. Psuedo-Hermione walked toward him and Harry felt frozen to this spot, mesmerized by her movements.
She placed a hand on his chest, sliding it over him and coming to rest on the back of his neck. Harry's heart rate rose to what had to be dangerous levels as she came closer to him, wrapping her other hand around his waist, tracing the edge of the towel and sliding her hand over his buttocks.
"Kiss me Harry," she said in a sultry voice. "I know you want to."
Oh how he wanted to. Oh how he wished it were the real Hermione.
"I can be as real as you want me to," she said as she kissed his throat. Harry jumped back but lost his footing as he fell backwards into the bath. He coughed and spluttered as he surfaced. Psuedo-Hermione's laughter rang throughout the room, delightful and warming. She jumped into the bath as well and Harry scrambled to the edge to get himself out. He had just touched the tile when Psuedo-Hermione appeared directly in front of him, giggling and grinning. Harry backed away, treading water.
"Why are you running from me?" she asked.
"You're not Hermione," Harry said in an angry and frustrated tone. He reached past her to hold onto the ledge again. "And even if you were, she's my friend and we wouldn't be doing this."
"Then why am I here?" she asked.
"I don't know," Harry shook his head.
She reached out and draped her hands around his neck. "Maybe you don't want to be just friends with her," she whispered.
Harry removed her hands from him. "I have to be friends with her. I need her friendship. Without it I…I don't know what I'd do."
"So this is just what? A fantasy?"
"I don't know," he said softly. "But I do know that you're not real."
She reached out and took his free hand and brought it to the valley of her breasts, sliding it down her torso. "I can be very real."
Harry inhaled sharply, she felt so real, she looked so real. She felt and looked like Hermione, did she taste like her too?
"Why don't you find out?" she whispered.
"I can't ruin my friendship with her," Harry whispered, setting his forehead against hers.
"I'm here because you wanted her here. Now you can have her, consequence free." She slid a leg up one of his. "What would you do Harry? What would you do if you could have this moment with her?"
Harry sighed heavily and cursed the sick sense of humor the Room had then he pushed off of the wall and swam to the other side of the bath. Pseudo-Hermione sighed then disappeared. Harry stared at the spot where she had been. It could've been so easy and he so badly wanted it. He swam over to the steps and sat down on them, cradling his head in his hands. The only reason why he had stopped and made her go away is because she wasn't real. If Hermione truly was here doing the exact same thing as the Psuedo-Hermione was, he knew he would've caved so fast he wouldn't have time to think of the consequences. His resolve to keep Hermione as a friend was crumbling away with each passing moment. Maybe Isis was right, they had crossed that line long ago and there was no going back.
And to be honest, he wasn't sure if he even wanted to go back.
~*~
Draco tucked himself into his pants, zipping up as Pansy got up from her knees, wiping her mouth.
"You know, you could return the favor sometime," she said irritably.
"And put my mouth where everyone else's has been?" Draco replied. "I think not."
"You're such an asshole do you know that?" she shot back at him.
"You didn't seem to mind when I was fucking you from behind last night," he shrugged. "In fact, I think you were begging me to have my way with you."
He opened up the broom closet and peered into the corridor and seeing that all was clear, the two of them slipped out.
"People say stupid things when they are in such a vulnerable state," she hissed.
"Yeah, like meet me tomorrow night in the broom closet," he replied.
Pansy scoffed. "Why the--."
"Shh!" Draco cut her off as they were nearing a corner. Voices could be heard and the two of them pressed themselves against the wall.
"Ernie are you asking me on a date again?" he heard Hermione ask in a cheerful voice.
"Er…yeah, I guess I am." Draco rolled his eyes. Idiot, he thought. It was a wonder that he even managed to approach Granger without pissing all over himself.
"Sure, I'd love to go," she replied. WHAT??!!! Draco's suspicions were correct, Granger really was an idiot deep down. That or desperate for a shag. And if that was the reason, Draco had a feeling she was barking up the wrong tree. Whatever, it wasn't his concern. If anything, he wanted to stick around and see Hermione fall flat on her face on this one. He wasn't jealous or anything.
He kept repeating this to himself as they sat together in DADA at the start of class.
"Rumor has it that Mr. Head Boy found the balls enough to ask you to Hogsmeade this weekend," he said to Hermione. She was resting her elbow on the table, head resting on her hand as she scribbled down some last minute additions to her homework.
"Wow, I didn't think anyone knew," she frowned.
He looked around then leaned closer to her. "I confess, I overheard you two in the hallway last night."
"Are you spying on me Malfoy?" she grinned.
"Don't flatter yourself Granger. I was just coming out of the broomcloset from having Pansy do illicit things to me."
"Ugh, too much information," Hermione wrinkled her nose.
"Just being honest," he shrugged.
"We're going to the new Italian place," she said.
"Oh, I heard about it. I wonder if it's any good," Draco mused.
Hermione looked at him. "Do you want me to bring you back something?" she asked.
Draco looked at her, momentarily stunned at her offer. "You would do that for me?"
"Sure," she shrugged, "but you know that I'd probably pour poison over it."
"Or a potion for violent diarrhea."
"Severe vomiting."
"You could turn me into a newt."
"Or I could put something in it that would make your dick fall off."
Draco feigned deep thought. "Well, if the food is that good, I might have to take that chance on some cheese ravioli and marinara sauce."
Hermione smiled. "Ravioli it is," she said, "but you do know that at the very least I'll spit in it."
Saturday morning rolled around and he watched from the balcony above as Granger got into a carriage with Potty, Weasel and Lunatic. For the first time since he'd been here, he desperately wished he could enjoy this Hogsmeade visit. As the carriages disappeared past the gate, he moved away and went down the stairs to join his fellow castle bound Slytherins, mostly First and Second years in the common room. But to his surprise, the common room was bustling. He walked up to Crabbe and Goyle.
"What is everyone doing here?" he asked as he watched Blaise supervising a group of First year's game of gobstones. Millicent and Pansy were gossiping away in some corner.
"Don't you know about the bombing?" Crabbe asked. Draco stared at him.
"The bombing today in Hogsmeade?" Goyle added. A dark cloud settled over him.
"Of course I did," he said impatiently. He had no idea what they were talking about. "I was just wondering why all of you are here. Wouldn't it be a bit obvious if none of the Slytherins are in Hogsmeade?" Crabbe and Goyle frowned thoughtfully at that.
"I suppose we could've gone and just stayed away from the Italian place around lunch time," Crabbe said. The Italian place. Something in Draco's stomach dropped.
"Yeah well, don't think on it too hard. I don't want you combusting in front of me," he said and walked upstairs to his room.
He flopped down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He shouldn't care. This wasn't his problem now. The Dark Lord wanted to strike some terror at Hogwarts, so be it. It didn't concern him. He was pretty sure that Potty and Weasel would be at that restaurant to so that would be a great thing. Granger would just happen to be there at the wrong time and if she was hurt…well, that would be of no consequence. They were at war and war had casualties, right?
"Right," he said aloud.
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