It was all his fault anyway. She would never have seen what she saw
if she weren't roaming the hallways after hours. And she would never have
done something like that before falling in with Harry and Ron. No matter
how good her reason. It was their stupid fault.
She had rolled her eyes when she first heard their voices. They were
so easy to distinguish. The slow, smooth drawl that made her skin crawl
and the blustery, stammering voice she knew as well as her own by now.
Just like them, to pick a fight in the middle of a dark hallway when they
should have been in bed. From her shadowed niche in the potions dungeon
doorway, she idly wondered what Harry was doing out of bed just now. She
usually knew what he was up to, what his rule-breaking plans were.
She was inclined to wait out the argument in the doorway, then she could
find Harry when it was over and she wouldn't have to deal with him and
his insults. But then she heard one of them knock against the wall. Sighing,
she pushed herself away from the door. She hated it when Harry got in fist
fights. He never thought things through, always acted on impulse. She'd
have to step in and separate them once again.
She turned in the direction their voices had come from. The hallway
had gone oddly silent. With a slow, spreading sense of dread, she inched
forward along the hall. She saw them up ahead.
As she had guessed, it was Malfoy who had hit the wall. Harry was a
little bigger, a little stronger. He usually won the physical battles,
while he was not match for Malfoy's scalding wit. But she would never have
constructed in her mind the scene before her. Harry was pressed up against
Malfoy. Malfoy's head was turned away from her and Harry's mouth was on
his neck. Harry's hands were on his hips, gripping tightly at his robes.
As she watched, Malfoy reached up and took Harry's face in his hands. He
pushed him away slightly and turned to look at him. Hermione watched them
silently staring at each other for seconds that stretched out almost painfully
before Malfoy leaned forward and kissed Harry, slowly and softly. It made
her heart ache just to see. She hadn't believed either of them capable
of something so gentle, so tender.
This is private. I should go now, she thought. But she didn't
move. She was startled by a soft needy sound one of them made - with their
mouths locked together like that, it was impossible to tell which one.
And when she saw Harry's hands reach for the fastenings on Malfoy's robes,
she moved. But only a few feet - to a darker section of hallway, along
the cold, moldy wall.
She didn't leave the hallway until they did. Until she saw Harry pick
up his invisibility cloak and made a hasty retreat to the potions dungeon
where she waited as long as she calculated necessary. She heard them pass
the doorway. Heard soft, low, happy laughter she would never have recognized
as theirs.
Back in her own house, in her own bed, she lay with her eyes wide open
for hours. Tomorrow, she would be alert to new things. She would see the
secret glances at meals. She would see the tiny, momentary grins after
and between the insults. She wondered if Ron knew. She decided he didn't.
She was probably the only one who did. And she knew she wasn't meant to.
But it was Harry's fault in the first place anyway. And now this was hers.