Chapter 5 – Transfiguration Homework with a Twist
Last Chapter –Hermione lay in silence for a long time, her mind reeling through the possibilities of what just happened. And it was when her eyes landed on her wand lying next to the vase of flowers atop the table beside her that all those possibilities narrowed down to one.
But why in Merlin's name would Draco ever do anything nice for anyone but himself, let alone a Muggleborn!
And it was that very question that kept her from anymore sleep that night, pondering.
Early the next morning, Hermione left the hospital wing in her Muggle clothes with her wand clutched in her hand. It was only when she was leaving that she realised her robe was missing. As she past a long window, the sight of rain, hail and lightning met her eyes; the storm she had not noticed raging last night when she'd been startled out of her dreams by the school nurse.
But it was all because of him that she hadn't got a wink of sleep since then.
The lake was also visible from the window, but only just through the haze of heavy rain. Hermione had a feeling she'd need a new robe, and thankful that she had a few spare.
Sighing, she turned her head away from the window and the storm outside of it, and followed the trail of red carpet down the stone hallway, around the corner and eventually to the stairs. For a fleeting moment she had the sudden urge to rush down the stairs and burst out into the storm. She shook her head roughly.
"Don't be silly, I'd freeze to death out there," Hermione scolded herself. "Besides, I'm sure my robe is under three feet of snow right now."
"Surely you don't mean this old thing?" a voice called from halfway up the stairs. Hermione's face lit up.
"Ron!" Hermione cried and ran at him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. In his hand he clutched a considerably damp lump of black, dripping material.
"I see you're feling a lot better," Ron noted, kissing her gently.
"You found my robe!" Hermione exclaimed and then laughed. "And it's just in the state I imagined it to be in."
"Can I interest you with some breakfast?" Ron asked, offering his arm to her. Hermione grinned.
"As long as it has no chocolate in it; Pomfrey was practically stuffing it down my throat before I left!"
They entered the Great Hall and at down sat the Gryffindor table. Ron didn't notice Draco's watchful eyes. Hermione did. And it was in that split second that Madam Pomfrey's words popped into her head.
"Not that it is any of my business, but are you having problems with Mr Weasley, Miss Granger?"
"Malfoy knows something," Hermione muttered under her breath.
"What was that, 'Mione?" Ron asked between chews. After cringing at the use of that horrid nickname she'd aquired over the years, Hermione shook her head, though unable to throw off this dazed feeling.
"N-nothing Ron," Hermione stammered. "I-I just … I'm not hungry anymore."
She stood quickly and hurried out the Great Hall.
"Hermione, wait!" Ron called, but she was already gone. "You forgot your robe …"
Draco watched in curiousity as Ron turned back to his meal, his shoulders slumping and his eyes downcast. As Draco stood up and followed Hermione out of the Great Hall, Ron didn't even look up. The second he stepped out those massive oak doors, Draco was hastily grabbed by the robe and pulled into an alcove.
"I knew it! You're following me," Hermione exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at him melodramatically. Draco didn't even have time to gasp, sneer or smirk before Hermione introduced her hand to his cheek.
"God-dammit Grang-" He was cut short as Hermione's social hand greeted the other one.
"And it was you who snuck into the Hospital Wing last night and almost gave Madam Pomfrey a heart attack, not to mention you scared the hell out of me!" Now very popular, her hand also whacked Draco upside the head.
"I don't know what you're talkin-"
Hermione grasped the collar of his robe and pushed him into the wall of the dark alcove. She leaned in close to his ear.
"You know something, don't you Malfoy?"
It was more a statement than a question – and a threatening one at that! – and Draco knew it … but as if he was going to play along!
"Well I know plenty, Granger," Draco admitted patronisingly. "I didn't come second only to you for Top of the Year, three years in a row for being as thick as Weasley."
Hermione released him and backed up to the other side of the alcove which was a mere half-step away. Her back hit the cold stone as she crossed her arms; and still she was so close that she would touch him if she so much as stretched a leg.
"Cut the games Malfoy," Hermione muttered. "I'm sick of playing."
"Oh you aren't playing this game, Granger," Draco smirked.
You're the prize.
Hermione stared at him blankly, missing the point.
"Don't concern yourself … it's a non-issue," Draco assured, but the creeping smile on his face made Hermione believe otherwise. Confused enough as she was, Hermione decided not to press the matter further.
"Look, whatever Malfoy. I don't care what games you are playing. I know you know something." Hermione's eyes bored deep into his, a million emotions a second flying across her brown orbs. "Something about Ron?"
Now that one was a question.
As Draco studied her face, he saw the worry, pain and – most importantly – the potential anger that lay in her eyes. When one reaches a certain point of anger, it's hard to maintain self control, a theory Draco would hope to prove later on. But for now, he had to stick to the plan.
"Ronald Weasley … tall, gangly red head?" Draco asked inquisitively. "You mean the poor, incompetent pathetic excuse for a Pureblood wizard?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"I'm serious, Draco," Hermione sighed; defeated, deflated.
Draco opened his mouth to counter with another witty response but stopped himself.
The plan … stick to the plan.
He chose his next few words carefully.
"If you're searching for something, try looking inside the square, not out of it," Draco advised, looking directly into her eyes, as though willing her to find the truth inside of his. It was there, floating on the surface; all she had to do was find it and accept it. But she never would, he knew that. The pained look in her eyes told him she saw it, but he could also see the determination – the determination to trust her boyfriend. He would need cold, hard proof. And he had a month to do it.Draco walked away. Hermione didn't stop him. Why would she? What could she say to that? Sure she could run after him, beat her fists on his back and scream until her throat became hoarse. But what would that achieve? He would not tell her. But she could use the clues.
Clues, clues! What did she need clues for? Nothing was going on – nothing. Everything was fine. Ronald was fine, Draco was manipulative and Hermione was … Hermione was confused; very confused. And paranoid.
She slumped against the alcove and blew out the breath she'd been subconsciously holding.
If you're searching for something, try looking inside the square, not out of it.
"Urgh! Why can't anyone ever give me a straight answer!"
"WHAT!" Lavender screamed, sending first year Gryffindors scattering to their dormitories. Her eyes were narrowed in angry slits, glaring up at Ron who had rushed to the Common Room moments after Hermione had run out of the Great Hall.
"Lavender, keep it down," Ron hissed, eyes wide at the attention this was attracting.
"Keep it down!-"
"Shh!" Ron hushed her. "Can we talk about this somewhere a little more private … please?"
Lavender glared at him before turning her heel and heading towards her dorm.
"Come on, I don't have all day. I've got a Transfiguration essay I've got to finish."
As Ron climbed the staircase, he wondered why he wasn't sliding down it on his butt. He thought about asking Lavender how he could walk up it without the magical alarm system – to keep guys out – going off, but thought otherwise. No one ever asked why the boys didn't have one to keep out the girls … They reached her dormitory and found a third year sitting on one of the girls' beds.
"What are you doing in here?" Lavender demanded. The young girl looked shocked. No, terrified might be a more suitable word.
"I-I'm Emily's s-sister-"
"OUT!"
The third year scurried out of the dorm with wide eyes. Ron almost felt sorry for her. Lavender ushered him inside before locking the door. They sat down on her bed.
"Lav," Ron began, taking one of her hands in his own. "I can't do this anymore."
"Ron it's been months and she still doesn't have a clue … what are you worried about?"
Ron took a breath. "Malfoy found out."
Lavender's eyebrows shot up into her hairline.
"Malfoy what!"
"Found out … he-he saw us. That night by the lake," Ron told her. Lavender smiled as though reminiscing before the full implications of the situation hit her.
"Is he going to tell her?" Lavender asked, eyes wide.
"He … proposed a game. A Cheater's Game."
It took a few minutes to explain all the rules.
"So he's got a month to convince her to cheat on you – without actually telling her?" Lavender asked incredulously.
"Yeah," Ron confirmed, eyes narrowed at the girl's casualness.
"Well then what are you worried about?"
Ron's jaw dropped open.
"Excuse me!"
"Look, she loves you more than ever. There is no-way Draco could turn her against you, let alone get her to kiss him!" Lavender exclaimed. "This is Hermione Granger we are talking about for Merlin's sake!"
"You think so?" Ron asked hopefully.
"I know so," Lavender assured, comfortingly rubbing his shoulder. "You have got nothing to worry about … except perhaps getting me out of these clothes." Lavender flashed him a suggestive smile. She leaned forwards, shuffling closer.
"Lav …" Ron began warningly.
"Oh come on Ron!" Lavender exclaimed. "Be reasonable; you've got a whole month. It's not like you can change what's happened between us."
"No, but I can change where it's going," Ron retorted.
"But I love you …" Lavender murmured, dropping her gaze.
"Oh Lav-"
"What, you know it's true," she snapped, suddenly angry. "And I know you love her, and I know what we have will never work … but I feel something when I'm with you. And I know you feel something too, otherwise you'd be off with her instead of here with me."
Ron studied her and – although she was very angry – he only found sincerity in her words.
"So what do you say?" Lavender asked, laying back on the bed with a lusty smirk on her face.
"I thought you said you had a Transfiguration essay to finish," Ron reminded her, throwing off his robe as he crawled over to her smiling.
"I'm doing my own private study; and I need someone to … assist me," Lavender chose her words carefully, never breaking his gaze.
Oh?" Ron smirked.
"You see, I've lost my wand and I'm in need of a replacement … do you think you can help me?" Lavender smiled innocently.
"Oh, I think I've got just the substitute …"
A/N – Oooo kinky! laughs Well, what did you think of this chapter? I know it's short, but it's been a while since I updated so I thought I'd just submit it … anyway, it does seem a nice place to stop D
Please review – CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM! I wrote this when I was sick, after having my wisdom teeth out and whilst being drugged up on all kinds of painkillers. I need all the advice I can get! laughs
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No, I'm serious.
Marauders Gal