Hermione thought maybe her sense of hearing had become more acute just
for the effort she’d given it recently. As she trailed behind Harry’s invisible
form, she could hear the slightest swish of his cloak, the shallowest of
breaths, the lightest of footfalls. She was equally as skilled at moving
along silently behind him, leaving just enough space that he wouldn’t see
her easily if he looked back into the dark hallway. It would be a lot easier
if they would just go to the same place every night. But no, these boys
seemed to find it an added thrill to meet somewhere different each time.
And really she didn’t mind, these newly developed tracking skills could
come in handy some day.
She followed Harry’s invisible form around a corner to her right and
realized with a shiver where he was heading. The library. As if watching
the two of them weren’t enough. Tonight she would see them surrounded by
stacks and stacks of books. It was almost too much to take. Almost. She
moved fast, slipping through the heavy wooden door before it closed behind
Harry.
Draco was already there. Hermione moved in the shadows to the opposite
end of the row next to the one they were in and crawled along the floor
until she found an opening just the right size to watch through. This was
her favorite part. Every time they met, night after night, their first
moments together were awkward. As though they didn’t remember or quite
believe the intimacies of the night before. Sometimes they would almost
fight. But then one of them would silence the other with a look, a touch,
a kiss. It made her want to cry for the sweetness. For all horrid things
they said to each other during the day. Draco was still awful to her. He
didn’t know she shared his secret. He seemed frustrated when she wouldn’t
rise to his bait. But she understood now. She would just smile and turn
away and think of what she would see in the night to come.
Things were moving swiftly tonight. Maybe they were as excited by all
the dusty tomes on the shelves as she was. Unlikely she thought
to herself. But then she heard Draco say Harry’s name, his first name,
in an urgent whisper and she didn’t care why they were like this. She watched
Draco hurriedly guide Harry to the floor, trying to push his robes aside
before he was all the way down. Harry’s hands were clenching in Draco’s
hair, pulling his head forward. Draco lowered his mouth to Harry’s neck,
kissing and biting his way down and along his collar bone. Hermione wondered
if that would hurt. Harry didn’t seem to be hurting, the way he just kept
pushing himself up off the floor, desperate to be closer to Draco.
Draco’s hand slipped under the hem of Harry’s shirt and Harry let go of
Draco and tilted his head backward, his mouth open and --
Hermione’s shallow breath was cut off completely as a hand clamped over
her mouth and nose. Always thinking, she didn’t make a sound as she twisted
around, trying to get away from the hand. But a second hand slipped under
her arm and suddenly she was being dragged through the stacks toward the
library doors. Only after she was pushed through those doors was she able
to turn and see her captor.
"Pansy?"
"What were you doing in there? You were spying!" Pansy narrowed her
eyes in disgust as she leveled her words at Hermione in a low, hoarse whisper.
"I… They…" I’m not spying, Hermione wanted to say they’re
mine. This is mine. But she knew Pansy would think she was crazy. Instead
of finishing her sentence, she looked at her shoes, trying to decide whether
she should feel ashamed, and whether she should let Pansy see that.
Pansy had turned to look back toward the library doors. When she looked
at Hermione again, she seemed less angry, her features relaxing out of
their sneer. "I figured…" She started, "I thought I was the only one who
knew. They’re just… They’re beautiful, aren’t they?" A slight color rose
in Pansy’s cheeks as she spoke.
Hermione was speechless. It was a rare and uncomfortable state for her.
She forced her mouth to move, "Yes." Pansy had been watching too. Pansy
shared the secret. She probably saw all the little things Hermione saw.
All the things she had thought of as her own.
"Well…" Pansy was looking at her. Should I leave now? Hermione
wondered. If she left, would Pansy go back in the library, or would she
leave too? Pansy was still looking at her. Pansy had green eyes. Funny
she’d never noticed before. She didn’t know many people with green eyes.
Just Harry. And now, Pansy. Green with little bits of other colors in them
oranges and browns. Why was Pansy still looking at her?
"You have… Your hair…" Pansy leaned forward and brushed back a lock
of Hermione’s hair that had caught in her eyelashes. Pansy’s fingers were
warm and smooth where they touched her brow. From up this close, her eyes
looked golden. "See you," Pansy whispered before she turned and walked
silently down the hall, away from the library. Hermione watched until she
disappeared from view.
She looked at the library doors. If she concentrated hard, she could
hear them inside. She could hear Harry as he tried, unsuccessfully as usual,
to stifle Draco’s name on his lips. She could imagine exactly what Draco
had done to draw that from him. She could imagine Harry’s bare back against
the library carpet. It must scratch a little, a carpet as old and thick
as that one. Lying there, he would look up and see shelf upon shelf of
books as he felt Draco’s hands and mouth on him. As he felt smooth, warm
fingertips and gazed up into warm golden eyes. Hermione turned quickly
away from the library. She hurried down the hall as quietly as she could
in the direction Pansy had gone.