by Aikan
 
 

Chapter 3
Drago Cieco
 

Draco's POV

I rubbed my elbow as I walked down the damp hallways to the Slytherin Common room. This time, I
was more careful to not trip on the various stones that were far from flat. As careful as I was, I was still
preoccupied with Hermione. Why did I do that to her? Lead her on then drop her? Why did I do that to
myself? Sure, I played with girls a lot, but when I let them drop like old toys, it never affected me. I'd
just went on to the next. Or at least I did. But something happened tonight, while looking right into her
eyes. Something clicked. Those eyes...I could confide in those, tell them about my abusive father, about
the loom of my unavoidable oath of allegiance to the Dark Lord, my need for a real friend and kindred
spirit. I entered the common room then went straight to bed. I needed to think. About Hermione, no
doubt. She was beautiful, for sure, but why was I attracted to her? Her wit, intelligence, or just the fact
that she was practically unattainable? I stifled a yawn. I'll think about it in the morning.....
 

Hermione's POV

I was woken by desperate whispers the next day.

"Hermione? Sleep late? She and Draco must have had some night!"

I cracked open an eye. Draco? What Draco? My head was spinning.

"As if! They walked out at separate times... Unless it was planned!"

‘Ohhh..', I thought, wincing at the memory, ‘THAT Draco...'

"You're both wrong! Luke and I were dancing near them - they had a fight, she slapped him, and then
they walked out within minutes of each other. I saw it over Luke's shoulder!"

"I don't believe you saw that. You and Luke were too busy-"

I decided to end it there. I yawned loudly, and they all fell silent. I peeked out from behind my curtain,
groggily muttering a "‘Gmorning" before practically crawling to the bathroom. ‘I am sooo NOT a morning
person,' I said to myself, looking at my now-frizzy hair and sleepy eyes in the mirror. I splashed water on
my face, and the shock of the water brought back the shock of last night. Then I remembered: Friday
morning. Double potions with the Slytherins. And that meant Malfoy, too. Oh well, I'll just have to go
back to plan A: ignore at all costs.
 

* * *

"MR. WEASLEY!" Snape snapped, as he turned on Ron, who, tired from last night, was sleeping with his
head propped on the hand, little droplets of drool making a mess of the page covering the anilorpus potion.
Ron's head snapped up, eyes blurry and hair a mess. Several girls giggled from the back of the class.

"Err... Could you repeat that please, sir?" he asked in a slurred voice. Snape, only too happy to have caught
him not paying attention, replied,

"Surely you know by now that I don't repeat myself. 10 points from Gryffindor, and it'll be 20 next time I
catch you with your mind outside of this classroom." He sneered and continued explaining the potion. ‘So
far, so good' I told myself. I'd arrived in class early, Draco just as we started. No awkward situations, eye
contact or anything else that could mess with my sanity. And since when was I calling him Draco? The lesson
droned on, with nothing extraordinary going on. Neville melted only his 17th cauldron this year. So far it was
a record. Before the end of class, Snape made an announcement.

"Seeing as many of your latest round of marks has been so..." here he added a greasy smile, trying to decide
on the most appropriate word, "mediocre, I've decided to assign a voluntary research project. Your mark
on this can boost your grade up to 15%, which for many of you could turn a fail into a pass. Or not." he
added unpleasantly. I perked up. My last mark had been less than satisfactory, to put it lightly. I diligently
took notes, knowing how much this would mean to my grade. Later, I decided, when Harry and Ron had
Quidditch practise, I'd go check it out. It wasn't due for another month, so I'd certainly be the only one after
the book. ‘And I know exactly the one I want', I thought smugly. Sometimes it pays off being a bookie.
 

Draco's POV

I trekked to the library. It had been a long day, avoiding Hermione, hmm, avoiding Hermione some more,
and oh yeah, a couple of classes.. I shook the crazy thoughts out of my head.

*Well, if you do run into her, you just have to act rude like before* said my annoying inner voice. *What if
I don't want to?* I retorted.

It snorted. *Then you're actually beginning to feel human*.

‘You've got a point,' I thought, ‘you've got a point'.
 

* * *

Now, after dinner with my usual moron entourage which seemed even stupider than before, I walked to the
only place I could be alone. Cabbe and Goyle were afraid of it, and Pansy had been banned because of her
fingernails-on-a-chalkboard shrieks. I didn't mind the place. At least I could get this essay done for Professor
Snape early. Maybe even get bonus points for handing it in early..

These thoughts wafted through my mind as I went deeper and deeper into the walls of books. I ran my finger
over the dusty spines, knowing exactly what I was looking for, coming to the spot where I knew it should be.
But wasn't. Great, I thought, someone's misplaced the book. That'll be real easy to find, the library isn't an
overly large place...

My thoughts were interrupted by a cough somewhere very close to me. I whirled around, more than a little
surprised to find myself not alone. Hermione was standing there, leaning against probably the one wall that
didn't have books on it. She looked relaxed and comfortable, having not come into the real world enough to
realize I was there within a few yards of her. Then, as if feeling my gaze, she looked up, eyes confused by
what she read. Our eyes meeting, she raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement to my sneer then went back
to her reading. Must have been a pretty deep book. I returned to looking for the book on Potions book I
wanted, even though I knew it wasn't there. I didn't want to walk away and give the impression of backing
down or leaving because she was there. I looked back and forth on the shelves, until I recognised every
book on the shelf. Having satisfied my stubborn pride, I turned to walk away.

"You realize I have the book you're looking for, Malfoy." she said dryly, that crazy half-smile sending shocks
through my body.

"Errr..." I chose as my ever-so-intelligent comment.

"Though," she continued, "101 ways to being a better prick is over there in the Slytherin history section."
She snapped the book closed with a hollow ‘thump' as she walked past and deposited the book in my hands.
I bristled.

"At least we pricks have some pride: not like that little Potter boot-licker of a date you had yesterday." She
turned back to glare at me. Her gaze ran down my shoulder to my arm, where I could feel them penetrate the
heavy cloth hiding the scar.

"I don't think he's the only boot-licker around here, Malfoy" she hissed looking directly at my scar, "and the
at least boots he licks are clean. You should try it sometimes." Her lips curled at the apparent thought. She
turned on her heel and walked away. Inside my head, I snorted. Don't I know it - I had about three weeks
before I would be forced to swear allegiance to Voldemort. A new pair of boots to lick. Literally.
 

Hermione's POV

Well, nothing changed there, I thought as I walked out of the library. Same jerk.

*Same wimp too? You've never seen a look like that cross his face!* a voice in my head asked.

True; when I'd told him that he was a boot-licker too and looked pointedly at where his scar was, he'd
looked pained or ashamed. I hadn't ever seen a look like that on anyone's face before, not to that extent.
The only thing I could compare it to was the pain I thought I'd seen in his eyes. Not that it was there
anymore. I rubbed my temples in frustration: why was I obsessing over him?

"Hermione! Thank god... there's been an accident." Ron had run up behind and turned me around roughly
by the shoulders. He was still dressed in his Quiditch robes. I could see the worry in his face.

"Harry?" I asked, afraid of what could have happened. All the latest Death Eater attacks.. But it couldn't
happen at Hogwarts, right? Or to Harry?

He nodded quickly, "Harry was just going to call in the snitch when this green lightning bolt came out of
nowhere and.." he gulped. I put a hand on his arm to stop him. I had a pretty good idea of what happened.

"Is he alright?" I asked. Ron looked scared.

"He's in the hospital wing right now...they wouldn't let me in." he paled. It must be pretty bad.

"Come on... lets go see if there's any news." Please, oh please let it be good news, I thought as we walked
quickly through the halls to the hospital wing. As we arrived, Professor Dumbledor stepped out of the
infirmary door and closed it quietly behind him.
 
 
 

A/N Yes, I'm going to end it there, next one coming out very soon, I promise. Any guesses on the language
this time?

DisclaimerAnything or anyone you recognise belongs to JK Rowling, the incredily talented author she is. The
plot is mine.
 

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Chapter 4