Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Note: Wow...twenty-eight reviews on my first chapter. That's the best turnout I've ever gotten. Thanks so much for your responses! I had this chapter half-written, so I finished it tonight as a thank-you for those reviews of yours, but I'm a slow updater, so don't hold your breath as you sit in anticipation for the next chapter. I'm trying to juggle two stories now, so I'll do my best, I promise!
You can thank half of this chapter to Hermione4HdGrl, whose review opened an entirely new ballfield of ideas for me. Without that suggestion, we would all be stuck in Writer's Block Limbo.
Chapter Two
Catching Flies
'So this is what it feels like to be dead,' was my first coherent thought the next morning. Even with my eyes closed, the throbbing behind them was unbearable. The only sound I was aware of was the thin pulse of the blood in my ears. My entire head seemed to be dancing to a cadence of its own, and my throat felt hoarse and dry. Groaning, I swung out of the bed and rummaged through my things until I found a potion I had brewed over the summer in case I contracted a cold. I swallowed the vile maroon liquid and gagged, but I instantly felt better. It was then that I noticed I was alone in the dormitory.
Ten flustered minutes later, I burst into the Great Hall, my robe slipping off of my shoulder, my books askew in my hands. I would kill Ginny for not waking me. As I hurried by to reach the Gryffindor table, I noticed the sundry looks being cast my way, most of them from male eyes. I flushed and walked faster and almost sat in my usual spot between Harry and Ron until I remembered that I had taken a vow of silence against Harry. He looked up at me cheerfully, and upon hearing his, "Good morning, Hermione," I picked up his plate of eggs and shoved them in his face. The entire Hall erupted into hysterics as I turned on my heel and marched over to the empty seat next to Seamus. I smiled coyly as he slung his arm around my shoulder and planted a kiss on my cheek. I chanced a glance out of the corner of my eye to see Harry wordlessly glaring at the laughing Ron. He picked flecks of egg out of his eyebrows and flicked them at Ron, but the damage had been done. 'Serves him right,' I thought, turning to my own plate, only half listening to Seamus. I only really began to hear him when he started to profess his undying love for me. My fork was halfway through its journey to my mouth when I heard him say, "--never felt this way about anyone before..."
Stunned, I looked up at him, not believing what I was hearing. His eyes were hopeful as he looked down at me, but mercifully, it was time to go to class. I fled him without a word, hoping to find serenity in Transfiguration class. To my horror, I was met by a wave of boys from every House and every year, offering to carry my books or walk me to class. It was only when one of them attempted to float me to Transfiguration and my feet left the ground that I lost my head and screamed.
"Get out of the way!" I heard someone shouting. I tried to fight off the hoard, but they refused to budge. "MOVE, you thick headed prat! Get away from her, let her breathe! No, she doesn't want to snog you, now MOVE!"
Ginny was pushing her way through the crowd to reach me. Once she had, she grabbed my hand and glared at the boys in front of her. They parted for us like the sea, and Ginny stomped away with me trailing behind. She only slowed down after we had traversed the entire hall and rounded the corner. I was now officially late for class and mortified at the same time, hence the tears. Ginny gave me a moment to control myself and then took my face in her hands. She smiled and wiped a stray tear away.
"What do they want?" I asked unsteadily, glancing around for any more horrid boys. Ginny sighed.
"They want you. Apparently, word of your kissing expertise has gotten around the school, so...well, come on, Hermione, you're smart, you're pretty, and you know what to do with your tongue. Of course they're going to come after you now."
"It was just a game!" I shouted, aghast. That's what this was all about? The entire male population of Hogwarts wanted to snog me?
Ginny tutted and smoothed my hair in an attempt to comfort me. "There now, Hermione, this isn't a bad thing. You can use it to your advantage."
"How?" I wailed. How could she possibly find optimism in this situation?
"Well," She began, throwing her hair over her shoulder. "there are about a thousand boys who would do anything you asked them to do simply because it's you, so if you're ever in a tough spot, just pick one to help you out. Two, you'll never be lonely. Three, almost every single girl in Hogwarts will envy you. Four, you can refine your technique, and five..." She bit her lip, as if afraid to say the next part.
"Five what?"
"Well, it may even help you to...you know...get over Ron."
She said this last part in a whisper, but it rang in my ears as if she had shouted it. After clinging to Seamus for the entire night, I had almost forgotten my feelings for Ginny's brother. Now, I remembered the looks he had given me, and I was filled with a sudden hope. Maybe I could use last night's mistakes for my advantage...
Professor McGonagall was astonished when I walked into class fifteen minutes late. She was too speechless to assign me detention, but not enough to forget to dock ten points from Gryffindor. I tried not to let it bother me as I sauntered over to Harry and Ron and sat down between them. I flashed them both a smile and then took out my book. I felt them glance at each other in confusion behind me, but I paid it no mind and pretended to listen to the lesson. Try as I might, though, I couldn't concentrate.
Ginny had told me to flirt more, to move my hips when I walk, to brush by a boy if I was walking close to him, to flip my hair and blink a lot when I was talking to someone. She said if I could perfect the art of tantalization I would be good to go.
"The greatest thing about being a woman is men will do anything for you if you have them wrapped tightly enough around your finger," She had said wisely as she walked me to class. I had listened with rapt attention to what she had to say, but a tiny voice in the back of my mind was waving a red flag in front of my face.
'This isn't who you are,' It screamed. 'Maybe it's fine for her, but you aren't the hip-shaking, eyelash-batting type. Viktor liked you well enough as yourself. Why do you need to change to get attention?'
But then I had remembered the way Seamus and Harry had kissed me, the heads that had turned when I had come to breakfast this morning, the way Ron had looked at me, the way he was looking at me right now...
Maybe it was time to change who the world apparently thought I was. I expressed my thoughts to Ginny at dinner that night.
"Good for you!" She said brightly upon hearing my plan. "Put them in their places, Hermione. Granted, don't start to...well, you know...create a 'name' for yourself, per say, but still, take what you've been given and ride it all the way. Have some fun for once."
'Say no!' My conscience screamed. 'Say no and go read a book, that always makes you feel better.' But I had just caught Harry staring at me from the other side of the table. He raised an eyebrow at me when our eyes met, and I childishly stuck my tongue out at him. I would not let him win this silent war between us, no matter how many somersaults my stomach did when I was around him.
I turned back to Ginny and put on my most radiant false smile. "I think you're right, Gin." Seamus passed behind us and swiftly reached down to tweak my backside. I let out a squeak and turned around in my seat in time to catch his wink. A smile slowly spread across my face. I shoved the bushy-haired bookworm girl Hogwarts knew aside. "I think you're right."
~*~
Ron and I were roaming the halls on Prefect duty later that night. The hungry look in his eyes every time I passed by him and the fact that there were absolutely no mischievous students lurking the school was doing nothing to soften the awkward silence between us. I had an intense desire to grab Ron by the neck of his robes and poke his eyes out when a clatter of footsteps sounded on the stairwell behind us. I whirled around, eager to end the silent vigil and take my simmering frustration out on the unlucky pupil that had decided to cross paths with a moody Prefect after hours.
To my severe distaste, it was the Head Boy who ascended the steps and met us. He nodded at Ron and then turned his attention on me.
"Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office," he said, as smooth as glass, as if nothing had ever happened between us. I wanted to throw him over the banister for being so calm as my internal organs began to explode. Bristling, I brushed by him and, using my largest stride, made my way to the Headmaster's office. Despite my efforts, the Head Boy caught up with me in less than a heartbeat and we made the journey in a silence that was not unlike that which had fallen on Ron and me earlier. I was boarding insanity when we finally arrived at the stone gargoyle.
"Tiddlywinks," My companion said breezily, and the gargoyle predictably sprang away from the staircase. The Head Boy moved aside so I could pass through the entrance first, and I did not hesitate to blindside him with my shoulder as I made my way up the stairs. He opened his mouth to voice an angry retort, but thought better of it and drowned his comment in a growl instead. I stuck out my chin and made my way up to the office with no regard to the rake behind me.
"Ah, Miss Granger, it's good to see you again," Professor Dumbledore said cordially when I stepped into his...eccentric office. He rose to his feet and came around from behind his desk when the Head Boy entered the premises. He smiled warmly at us as we stood side-by-side.
"I would offer you both a seat, but it is late and I do not intend to keep you long. Miss Granger, we have found ourselves in a precarious situation, and I knew no one better to ask for help than you."
I stood a little straighter, stuck out my chest and basked in the glow of his praise. I mentally stuck out my tongue to the boy standing next to me. This time, I was going to be the hero.
"You know Miss Matilda Hawkins, Miss Granger?" Professor Dumbledore asked me. My demeanor darkened a little; the mention of Hawkins was no less than a rain on my parade. Matilda Hawkins was a very blonde, very curvy, very rich Hufflepuff who had somehow beaten me for the title of Head Girl. Not only that, but for this past first week of term, she had been making a fool of me in class, all the while ogling at Harry from across the room. Two of my usually perfect potions had suffered thanks to her "brushing" past our table, and I kept a picture of her buried deep in my trunk. It had an odd tendency of catching flame when I was irate, and when the ashes ceased to smolder, they came back together as her photograph, ready to burn again on my command...no, not on my command, it simply...spontaneously combusted every now and then. I have nothing to do with it.
"I know her, yes sir," I said as politely as I could, my fingernails digging into the palms behind my back to keep my composure steady.
"Good, good. It appears Miss Hawkins has taken to a severe case of hippogriff pox and will have to return home until the end of the semester, which means we are short of one Head Girl. Would you care to fill the position, Miss Granger?"
If it wasn't for that obnoxiously long beard, I would've kissed my Headmaster on the spot. "Yes sir, Professor, I would like that very much," I said as calmly as I could. His eyes twinkled.
"Good. Well, that settles it, then. I'll make the announcement tomorrow morning at breakfast." He yawned and stretched his arms over his head. "Well," he said sleepily. "I believe it is time we all turn in for the evening. Mr. Potter, would you care to show Miss Granger to her dorm?"
"Gladly, Professor," Harry said and turned to get the door.
"Thank you, Professor!" I couldn't help exclaiming. He nodded at me, his entire face smiling, and I nearly floated to the door. I was too happy to even ignore Harry as he led me through the halls to where the Head Boy and Girl resided. I was skipping and humming a tune my mother had used to sing to me when I was younger when he finally stopped us at a large portrait of a pasty-looking flower surrounded by ugly pixies.
"Bezoar," Harry said to the painting. The pixies looked at me and then back at each other. The crossed their arms and sat adamantly on the petals of the sickly flower.
"She isn't the Head Girl; she can't go in," One of the pixies scoffed, leering at me.
"She is now. Matilda went home sick. Hermione is taking her place. Open the portal," Harry said patiently. The pixies folded their arms across their scrawny chests.
"She isn't the Head Girl, and the password was changed," They said in an eerie unison.
After a day filled with catcalls, pickup lines, and Ron raising his eyebrows at me every chance he got, I was not in the mood for belligerent pixies. I took out my wand and blasted the painting. The pixies shrieked and fled the petal I had incinerated. When the smoke cleared, they crowded around the scorch mark on the canvas.
"Open the portal," I said, not nearly as patient as Harry had been. They glared at me, but the portrait door swung open to admit me anyway.
"Our rooms are have a door connecting them, so if you need anything, just knock," Harry offered as I climbed through the opening.
"I doubt I will," I said condescendingly as the pixies slammed the portrait door closed. I caught the fallen look on his face before the back of the door met my nose and I fell back on my bum. My eyes watered and I reached up to nurse the sensitive cartilage, trying to remember why I was angry with him in the first place.