A/N:
This chapter hasn’t been read by my beta yet. So what is it doing posted?
Well, today
is my birthday…yehey!…along
with Sigmund Freud (if he was still alive) and Pierce Brosnan.
Today, by
the way, is May 6, 2002.
I just wanted to post something to mark this event. ^_^ I am now nineteen and old. =P
But, as always,
I thank April my beta who keeps encouraging me with all the stuff I do.
I also
thank Pao
and Veens, Maria who was one of the people who first introduced me to D/H,
and
the people
at home who are wondering what I type at odd hours of the day. I love my
parents.
OK, really long A/N. thank you to all who are reading this now. Thanks! Please Review! =D
Control
by
Selena Snape
Chapter
3
Hermione was
surprised to see that it was not only Professor McGonagall that she found
in
the transfigurations
classroom. Dumbledore, the school’s headmaster, was also there along
with Professor
Lupin. She immediately got the feeling that their presence was deliberate.
She
had not interrupted
a meeting or some kind of friendly faculty chat; they had been waiting
for
her.
“Ah, Ms. Granger,
so good of you to join us. Please take a seat, “ Albus Dumbledore said
in greeting.
Though the three teachers had been deep in conversation around the teacher’s
table at the
central anterior part of the room, the seat they offered her was one behind
a desk
at the far
corner of the room.
She sat. She
smoothed her skirt. She crossed her ankles then smoothed her skirt again.
Still,
none of the
teachers had spoken a word. It’s as if they were waiting for her to do
something.
And so she
did.
“Why was I called, Professor McGonagall?”
It was, however,
Professor Lupin who smiled and, in a relaxed manner, said, “We just wanted
to see how
you were doing. Ask you about your studies and your health. That sort of
thing.”
“And how ARE your studies?” the headmaster inquired.
“I’m doing
very well, thank you.” Hermione even forced herself to curve her lips upward
in a
wan kind of
smile.
She thought,
“I’d be damned if I let one stupid mistake make me break down in front
of teachers.
It was only
one test in one subject….I am NOT going to cry….It was just one test, Hermione.
You’re still
on top. You’re still number one.”
Her smile began to show some teeth.
“That’s always nice to hear from a student, Hermione.”
“And how are your parents?”
The questions
just kept coming. In which part of Britain do you live? Is that near Wigberta’s
House of Wands
or where Muggles buy fish? Do you enjoy what they call “football”?
Hermione’s
smile nearly faltered when McGonagall asked if she had a boyfriend. It
was a
remarkable
question coming from such a strict teacher who was very vocal about how
students
should always
maintain proper decorum. Hermione was pretty sure it wasn’t a rumor that
Minerva McGonagall
had once put a couple publicly making out in a weeklong detention – in
separate rooms,
of course.
All throughout,
Albus Dumbledore was kind and fatherly. Remus Lupin poured out the charm
and kept asking
her all sorts of questions about the most mundane things including, of
all questions,
“How did you
find the lunch served today?”
“I haven’t had lunch yet, Professor.”
“Oh. Then it’s
best you go and catch the chocolate and peanut butter pie that’s for dessert.
Positively
delightful.” At that point, it wasn’t hard for Hermione to imagine Professor
Dumbledore
as a young
boy smacking his lips in anticipation before he devoured chocolate frogs
and every
flavor beans.
“Go ahead, Ms. Granger. You have less than twenty minutes before classes start.”
Standing up
and looking at each of the teachers in turn, Hermione said “thank you”
before she
turned to
leave the room.
She was certain
that it had been an interview or some kind of test but she wasn’t sure
if she had
given them
what they wanted.
Her cheeks hurt from smiling.
“Oh, and Ms. Granger…kindly close the door after you.”
“Of course,
Professor McGonagall.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They waited for the sound of her footsteps to fade.
Professor McGonagall
opened her mouth to speak but was stopped by Professor Lupin who
quickly soundproofed
the room.
“She doesn’t remember!”
“That is possible.
Although it is also equally possible that she was just too embarrassed
to say
she remembered.
Maybe….”
"Remus, we
made her sit behind the desk where she and Mr. Malfoy were…fraternizing
and she
didn’t react
at all.”
The younger
wizard was unconvinced. “Maybe she’s good at lying, at keeping a straight
face.
Perhaps she
and Malfoy are completely in the thrall of You-Know-Who.”
“I think I’d
have to agree with Minerva on this one, Remus. I did not sense any deceit
in Ms.
Granger. Perhaps
just anxiety, sadness and stress but definitely nothing to suggest that
she has
any active
participation in Voldemort’s plans. She is unaware of what has happened
in this
room.”
They were all
thinking of the same thing – of the unasked question. Why exactly was Voldemort
interested
in Hermione Granger and in Draco Malfoy? What could he gain by allowing
them to
have sex?
“Perhaps he
could give answers.” However, Remus Lupin rather doubted they could get
anything
from the one
they would next talk to.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione had nearly reached the end of the hallway when he came through the bend.
His eyes were
on the floor. He walked neither slowly nor quickly but at a very steady
pace.
He seemed
lost in his own thoughts and had not reacted to her presence.
Draco was in
fact preoccupied with thoughts of the scratches on his back and of the
one
responsible
for them.
Meanwhile,
without even thinking about it, Hermione began to pick up speed. She bowed
her
head and stooped
her shoulders in an effort to be less noticeable. She didn’t want to talk,
look,
or even be
seen by Malfoy at the moment.
It turned out to be a wrong move.
“Afraid you messed up again, Granger?”
She stopped dead in her tracks.
“Hiding? Ashamed
that you ruined your chances of becoming head Girl? Well, you should
have known
that such a position’s too good for a Mudblood like you.”
“Everything
went well, Malfoy. Couldn’t have been better.” Why didn’t she figure that
out
earlier? The
interview was for Head Girl candidates. She was glad she had smiled.
Draco walked
briskly towards the direction Hermione had come from. “Where are you going?”
she called
after him.
“To the transfigurations room to meet McGonagall.”
“Why?”
Her voice had
definitely taken on a bossy undertone. As if her – of all people – had
a DUTY
to tell her.
He normally wouldn’t comply…Heck, he normally wouldn’t do anything if he
knew
it pleased
the witch in even the slightest way…but, this time, it might be more fun
to just rub the
truth in her
face. He was actually excited – dying to tell her.
“The faculty has been meeting with students who could be Head Boy as well.”
He wasn’t disappointed by the quiet little “oh” she managed to murmur in response to him.
They had reached
the outside of the classroom of the Gryffindor head of house. “Now, if
you’ll
excuse me….”
“Professors
McGonagall, Lupin and Dumbledore are having a meeting. The doors are probably
locked. To
Draco, she seemed glad to be back in command – to know something he didn’t.
“Is that so?”
Pausing only to sneer at her, Draco stepped up to the door and pushed.
The doors
had been shut
through some sort of spell.
“I told you.” Now, she seemed very, very glad.
“I think my
actions were understandable given the circumstances. Pardon my saying so,
Granger,
but recent
events have shown that you’re not always right.”
Her hand was itching to slap him.
The slimy,
little bastard! So far, Hermione had kept her reactions in check, being
as polite as
she could
be to a little prick like Malfoy always was, but now…she exploded.
“How much exactly
did you pay, Malfoy? What did that perfect score cost you and your horrid
family? Or
was Snape happy to do it for free as soon as you asked him? Or…ohmygod,
you
didn’t sleep
with him did you?”
“Don’t flatter
yourself, you filthy Mudblood.” He wasn’t speaking the words as much as
he was
spitting them
out. “I didn’t need to bribe anyone to beat someone like you. With you
still pining
after the
fun old ménage à trois you used to have with the wonder twins,
it wasn’t hard at all. I
could top
the Potions exam without even missing a single Quidditch practice session!”
Hermione was
so angry…she couldn’t even think! All she could say was “Ah, yes, Quidditch!
May a bludger
hit you and end the whole world’s misery!” in a voice that was shrill and
hoarse
at the same
time.
Their heated
bickering ended abruptly when they heard someone opening the wooden door
next
to them.
“Mr. Malfoy!
We heard shouting. What is going on?” But the witch had already seen Hermione
from out of
the corner of her eye and understood the situation.
“Ms. Granger, weren’t you about to eat lunch? Leave us now.” It wasn’t a suggestion.
“Mr. Malfoy, wait here.” Her head disappeared behind the door again.
“Remember,
Gryffindor, that being head Girl is not just abut academic performance.
I’d do
something
about my lack of extracurricular activities if I were you.” She didn’t
see the sarcastic
smirk that
followed the remark but he was sure that the retreating girl had gotten
the point.
He smiled with
contentment. There was nothing easier than winding up Hermione Granger
when
he wanted
to.
Alone in the
corridor, he began to think about his back again. With a sigh, he flexed
the muscles
there and
was haunted by the phantom ache. Even if the scratch marks had been healed
– albeit
accidentally
along with the bruises he’d gotten from Quidditch – he still felt the pain
of something
tearing his
skin and flesh, sensations that survived the physical manifestations on
his body.
He could hardly
believe it when Crabbe, of all people, had gotten a cat as a pet. It came
from
his little
sister’s cat’s litter, the boy had explained, and she couldn’t find anyone
else to adopt it.
Her older
brother didn’t have a pet so she gave the kitten to him.
Marla the cat
loved Draco. Maybe it’s because he smelled better than her real owner or
because
he had more
space left in his four-poster when he lies there that Marla keeps sleeping
curled up
beside the
blond Slytherin prefect.
He just couldn’t
understand why she would scratch him in the back like that. Or how such
small
claws could
dig in so deep.
He should find a way to keep her out of his four-poster for good.
Of course,
he could also just remember to keep some clothes on when he sleeps.
A/N: I first
read about chocolate and peanut butter pies from “The Joy Luck Club”. One
of the
characters,
I forgot which one, bakes it for her husband. It sounded good.
Mmrr, Danae’s
cat, likes the way Danae’s mother smells so she always sneaks into the
bed. ^_^
It’s from
“Domes of Fire”, Book One of The Tamuli, by David Eddings, one of my all-time
favorite
authors. His
books are so cool!
The last line
wasn’t supposed to be written at all but I couldn’t help myself. ^_^
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