Hermione

The next few days pass by in a blur, and I'm now sitting in Transfiguration, waiting for it to end so I can get to Arithmancy.

Harry and I have teamed up together because Ron moved all his stuff to go sit by Lavender.

"You're transfiguring it wrong," I say to Harry.

"Who cares, class is almost over anyways," he points out. 

Harry begins to talk about that nasty book, and I think about taking it from him and hitting it over his head.

"Hermione?" Harry asks.

"Er, yes?"

"McGonagall just said that we're dismissed. Let's go."

I get up, and walk out of the classroom with Harry.

"Divination," Harry groans.

"You should have just dropped it like me."

"I would have," Harry says, "But if I'm not smart enough for Divination, I'm definitely not cut out for Arithmancy."

"You're not wrong," I tease, and Harry rolls his eyes. 

We part ways in a corridor, and I walk into Professor Vector's classroom, relieved that neither Ron nor Lavender are in this class.

"Hey," Draco greets as I take a seat next to him. 

Thank god he hasn't mentioned my embarrassing breakdown for the past few days. I don't have time to respond, because Professor Vector gets straight to it.

Towards the end of class, I let out an exhausted groan.

"Is Vector's favorite student sick of class?" Draco asks, smirking. 

I am, but I don't want to admit it.

"More like I'm sick of my very annoying table partner," I say.

"I thought we agreed on not torturing each other in Arithmancy?" he asks.

"Actually, we agreed that you wouldn't torture me."

He grins, and grabs my quill out of my hand, dipping it in his ink.

"It's work time on our essay, I need that quill. What in Merlin's beard are you doing?" I ask.

He ignores me, and takes my arm, pressing the quill onto my skin. I try to yank my hand away, but he has a strong grip. I still try to pull my arm away, but I can't. He finally lets go, and I stare in dissapointment at what now is on my arm.

He's drawn a very obscene picture.

"Really?" I ask dryly. 

He grins.

"You're so immature," I huff in annoyance. 

I take a spare handkerchief, wet it, and rub at my skin, attempting to wash away the ink.

"Not going to happen Granger," Draco says smugly, "It's nearly permanent, it'll only fade away in a few days."

"What!?!" I shriek.

"Be quiet children, get to work! Class is almost over!" Professor Vector snaps.

"I can't walk around with a di- di- that thing on my arm!" I whisper-yell. He laughs.

"Yes, you can. Your welcome, that dick was one of the best I've ever drawn."

The bell rings, and the other students file out of the classroom, Professor Vector nowhere to be seen. Draco and I still sit at our desk, and I muster up a seething glare, earning a satisfied smirk from him. He is so infuriating! I can tell he's getting happier the more I'm getting pissed, and frustrated, I smack his arm. 

"Ow!" he shrieks, like a little girl, and this time, I grab his wrist, quickly dip my quill into his ink, and write my own thing.

'I ♡ Hermione Granger.'

"Granger! How dare you!" he says, frantically rubbing at his hand. 

I smile in triumph, but my expression quickly changes to surprise, because Draco has pounced on me, wrestling me to the ground.

"Ouch! Stop! I'm not Blaise, you're too heavy!" I squeal, laughing. 

He does get off, but unfortunately, he also takes my book.

"You'll get this back once you've thought about what you've done, young lady," he says, in a voice that resembles Professor McGonagall.

"No! That's my special edition of Jinxes for the Jinxed! I got it for my birthday last year!" I exclaim, getting to my feet and swinging my bag over my shoulder.

"You won't be getting this back until I say so," he says. 

I lunge for it, laughing, but he's too fast, and already running out of the classroom, his crazy laughter sending me into giggles.

Later that day, I'm behind Blaise and Draco, and I'm about to catch up to them, but Blaise speaks, taking a hold of Draco's arm.

"You love Hermione Granger?" he says. "Seriously?"

"Shut up," Draco says, shoving his hand into his robe pocket.

"Someone is definitely going to pass Arithmancy this year," Blaise mutters sarcastically.

"Well it worked didn't it? She's so much happier than she was for the past few days. She's smiling now," Draco says in a low voice.

I feel a sudden rush of affection for him, and I walk past them, fighting the urge to fall back into Draco's arms. 

Draco

"Don't be childish Draco," Snape mutters furiously, his voice echoing around his office.

"Can you stop calling me to your office? It's getting annoying," I snap.

"You better not try and do anything risky tonight, because Horace is hosting one of his miserable little parties; you'll get caught," he says angrily, opening the door for me. 

I roll my eyes, and mutter where he can stick his advice, striding out of the door.

"I heard that!" he yells after me.

It's not even lunch time, and my day is already shitty. Instead of going back to Charms, I make a sharp turn, and race up the staircases to the seventh floor. The cabinet hasn't been working at all, and I feel a storm of anger building up inside me, ready to break out and wreck havoc.

I try for hours, attempting to get it to work, but it just doesn't want to. Finally, in anger, I lift a small table next to the cabinet, and throw it to the ground in rage. It breaks into several pieces, and my hands are now dripping with blood. A few angry tears leak out of my eyes, and I quickly wipe them away.

"Draco?" a soft voice asks. 

I spin around, and of course; it's Granger. Fear spikes through me. Did she see everything? What if she's figured out why I'm always here?

"Are- are you ok?" she asks uncertainly, stepping closer to me.

"I'm fine," I say roughly, taking a few steps back. 

My hand hits a sharp edge, and I wince in pain.

"Here, let me see," she says kindly, taking my hands. 

I stand stiffly as she mutters spells. Once my hand is healed, I quickly pull my hands away, shoving them in my pockets.

"What's wrong?" she asks again.

"Nothing. Why are your eyebrows hot pink?" I ask, giving her an empty smile. 

Her face falls, and she rolls her eyes.

"Transfiguration. Ron is being a brat as usual, so I have to bring a date who I know Ron despises to the Christmas party," she explains.

"Okay," I say, amused. 

An awkward silence falls over us.

"So why are you up here?" I ask finally. 

She wraps a tendril of her hair around her finger nervously.

"You know how I told you I need a date that Ron hates to make him jealous? Well, I was wondering, maybe, if you'd want to go, he really hates you," she says in one breath.

"No," I say curtly, turning away.

"Why not? You don't even have to do anything! Just come with me, you can drink, there'll be wine and other things," she pleads.

"I'm busy. Plus, I don't want to go," I snap.

"Please! I need you!" she cries.

"No, you need him, but you're using me," I growl, spinning towards her.

"Why do you care? You do that all the time to people!"

"So I should be a slave, and do whatever you say? No way!"

"You know how I've been feeling lately-" she starts.

"Yeah, and I've done nothing but comfort you for the past two weeks! It's pathetic! You're not the only person that has problems around here, my life's pretty shitty too!" I yell, slamming my fist against the wall.

 "While you're crying about your oh so tragic little crush, I have real problems that involve the safety of the people I care about, so if you could stop with the whole 'self pity' thing, that'd be great!"

Her mouth falls open, and she looks a little hurt. 

"What do you mean, 'safety of the people you care about?' What's going on?"

"None of your business. If you really want a guy who's pathetic enough to go with you, then ask that dork McLaggen. Sadly, he seems to be into you," I bark. "Someone should tell him it's a waste of time, really."

"You know, you're starting to sound exactly like Ron!" she cries. 

I'm already striding away, and before I leave, I turn and glare at her.

"He's luckier than me. He didn't have to spend the past two weeks with you sobbing onto his shoulder!" I bellow, and exit the room.

As I stroll through the corridors, I mutter swear words furiously, scaring the young children in the hallway. But as I stride angrily through the castle, a thought wedges it's way into my brain; one I can't shake away.

If Granger had asked me to go with her to the party -without Weasley anywhere in the picture-, as friends or even as something more, I would have said yes.

Hermione

Bolts of anger and frustration course through me as I stalk out of the Room of Requirement and head to the Great Hall for dinner. I'm ticked at Draco for refusing to go with me, and don't feel a slight ounce of guilt for what I asked. It's not like he actually cares about my life, but I thought we were at least acquaintances, and that he would help me out.

I spot McLaggen walking ahead of me, and I grit my teeth. I really have no other option, so I speed up, and tap him on the shoulder.

"I was wondering if you'd like to go to Slughorn's party with me tonight," I grimace, pinching my arm, and hoping he'll say no.

"Excellent! I knew you'd come around. I'll pick you up at eight," he says, grinning. 

I roll my eyes, but I know that since it's my fault he's not Keeper, the least I can do is be nice.

"Sounds good," I mutter, managing another grimacing smile, and taking a seat at the Gryffindor table.

Ron and Lavender are making out. Last week, I would have burst into tears, but I've gotten stronger. I make small talk with Parvati, while shoveling food in my mouth. When I tell her I'm going to the party with Cormac, she gasps. Lavender and Ron separate, and a disgusting sound arises. I ignore them, but feel a small trickle of satisfaction.

With a hasty goodbye, I hurry back to the common room to get ready. Ginny does my hair and makeup, with a gloomy air.

"What's wrong Gin? Why aren't you coming?" I ask, concerned.

"Dean and I had another row; I'm not in the mood," she mumbles. 

However, her mood doesn't show on my face, because she's dressed me up like a doll. Curled hair, a short, puffed out dress, and vibrant make up.

I meet Cormac outside the portrait hole, and immediately slump down. His tie has tiny little bludgers on it, and he's already started to talk about Quidditch.

"You know, I started playing when I was really young. I'm very talented," he starts.

I zone out, and when we arrive at the the party, I rush inside. I'll admit that the decorations are extravagant, but I'm in a bad mood, so I don't stay around to look. Cormac follows me to a secluded corner, still talking about his amazing saves.

"Hey look, it's mistletoe," he says, stepping closer. 

I gag.

"Did you know mistletoe actually has very interesting properties?" I say, stepping back.

"I'm sure," he says, stepping closer again.

"The berry of the mistletoe is small, white, and waxy. It's used as an ingredient in potions, including the Antidote to Common Poisons and the Forgetfulness Potion."

"What?" he asks, confused.

"The use of mistletoe berries as an ingredient is ironic: the non-berry parts of the mistletoe plant are extremely poisonous, causing intense stomach pain, diarrhoea, low pulse, visual disturbances, and convulsions if eaten," I recite at top speed, backing away.

He looks bemused, and I take it as the time to rush away. I spot Harry and Luna at the other side of the room, and dash over, pulling both of their elbows and dragging them behind a pair of curtains.

"Hermione? What's happened to you? You look like you just fought through a thicket of devil's snare," Harry says, pointing at my hair.

"It's Cormac, I've just left him behind," I say breathlessly. 

Harry lets out an unintelligible murmur. Luna, however, is humming Weasley is Our King under her breath, apparently not interested in my disheveled appearance.

"This is what you get for going with him," Harry says severely. 

He would have been outraged if I had brought Draco, so I did him a favor.

"Crap, he's coming! I have to go," I say, squeezing between a pair of guffawing witches.

I find a nice hiding spot, and I watch the party from where I'm sitting. I spot Blaise on the dance floor, spinning a very pretty fifth year. I grin. At least someone is having fun at this party.

"What are you doing?" a voice asks. 

I start, but relax as I discover that Theo's standing behind me.

"Hiding from my date. I didn't know you were in the Slug Club," I say, moving over so he can sit next to me.

"I wasn't. Daphne asked me to go with her," he says gloomily.

"I'll assume by your reaction that you aren't exactly taken with her."

"Hey, at least I didn't have to spit the textbook I swallowed back out to escape a kiss," he says, snickering.

"You saw that?" I ask, embarrassed.

"The berry of the mistletoe is small, white, and waxy," he mocks, making his voice high pitched and squeaky.

"I don't sound like that!" I say, rolling my eyes.

"If you really needed a decent date, you should have gone with Draco," he says, his voice accusing.

"I asked him!" I say indignantly. "He refused, and ran out of the room like a child."

"Really? He came back to the common room all mopey and cynical," Theo states, his brow furrowing in confusion. 

I sigh, and began to tell him what happened. When I finish, he's glaring at me.

"What? I didn't do anything!" I say defensively.

"You did everything! Why would you ask him to go only to make Weasel jealous?" he says angrily.

"Because I needed a date that would make Ron mad!"

"Draco doesn't like to be used. If you had asked him to go without mentioning Weasley, he probably would have said yes!"

"Well, I'm not apologizing until he apologizes," I say stubbornly.

"God. Women are so infuriating," Theo mutters, getting to his feet.

I watch him stride over to Blaise, and whisper something in annoyance. Blaise looks over at me, then back to the girl he's with. He says something to Theo, to which Theo responds by whacking him in the head. 

Blaise rolls his eyes, whispers something to the girl, that makes her giggle, and leaves with Theo, looking back to shoot another smile at the girl.

I heave a sigh. This is turning out to be the worst night ever.

Draco

I'm brooding in the common room, staring moodily at the cold stone floor. Even though I'm mad, the silence calms me, and I take in a deep breath. Honestly, it's not even Granger that I'm mad about; it's just the fact that I can't get the damn cabinet to work.

WHAM. Theo and Blaise burst inside the room, their breathing heavy, and their footsteps loud. I roll my eyes. They flop down on either side of me.

"You need to say sorry to Granger," Blaise pants. 

I glare at him.

"It's not your fucking business. I will not apologize, because it's not my fault," I hiss.

"We know," Theo says simply.

"I said no! It's not my fault," I repeat. Then I furrow my brow. "Wait- you know? So you don't think it's my fault?"

"Of course it's not your fault. Granger's a fucking asshole," Theo starts. 

A spark of indignation lights in me.

"Don't call her that! She's just confused with everything that's going on," I snap. 

After realizing that I stood up for her, I groan. Blaise gives me a smothering grin.

"So what's to lose if you say sorry? You know you're not wrong, she doesn't realize. Just say sorry, and get it over with," Blaise says, thumping my back.

"I don't know, I don't want to waste an apology. Also, she'll be busy with McLaggen," I say, masking my uncertainty. 

Theo lets out a crazy laugh, and proceeds to tell me about her narrow escape.

"We'll see," I say, standing up, and walking out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Blaise shouts after me.

"7th floor."

"But the party's also on the 7th floor!"

"I know," I drawl. 

I make my way up, stopping at the entrance to the Room of Requirement. I can hear the laughter and music of the party, and see the distant rays of light coming out from Slughorn's office.

I pace in front of the entrance, debating on what to do. Fuck it, no way in hell will I apologize. I stride the other way, away from the party. Before I can even take more than a handful of steps, I crash straight into someone.

"Ow!" a muffled shriek resounds.

"Granger?" I ask, helping her up.

"Hey," she says, letting go of my hands. 

It's much to dark to see clearly, but as my eyes adjust, I make out the shape of her frame.

"What are you doing?" I ask stiffly.

"I was going back to the common room. I can't stand McLaggen; he's a nightmare," she sighs, and takes a few steps back. 

I think she's going to walk away, but she leans against the wall.

"You know, while I was brooding at the party, I realized something," she says tentatively.

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"That I was wrong. Draco, I'm sorry for-"

I know she's going to apologize, but I realize that I don't want to hear it.

Hermione

"Shut the fuck up, and get over here," he says.

My heart pounds, threatening to burst out of my chest. I can't tell if he's still mad; why is he calling me over there?

"I really am sorry for-" I start hesitantly, but I'm interrupted.

"Just come here," he growls.

That growl was hot, I think. A blush blossoms up my cheeks, and I curse myself for thinking that way. No it was not hot. It was very unattractive, and not enticing at all, I lie to myself.

As I continue the debate in my mind, I gasp when I realize that he's come much closer, and I see that that I'm cornered. We're barely inches apart; I can make out the silvery pools of his eyes and the sharp cut of his jawline in the dark.

"You know, you don't look half as bad as you normally do in that dress," he rasps. 

I shiver.

"I can't tell if you're complimenting me or not," I say, but my mind has already taken it as a compliment, and my breathing quickens.

The noise of leaves rustling brings me back to my senses. We both look up to see large clumps of mistletoe growing on the ceiling above us. Draco grabs both my hands and pins them against the wall, inching closer to me.

"The berries of mistletoe are small, white and waxy," he whispers. 

I let out a nervous giggle, and I'm pretty sure my heart is going to burst anytime soon. Our lips are barely more than a couple centimetres apart.

"It's used as an ingredient in potions," he continues. 

When he talks, his lips touch mine, but he makes no move to kiss me.

"You know, you shouldn't touch me or kiss me," I whisper, but I've just contradicted myself, because when I speak, my lips brush against his.

"I'm not kissing you. I'm talking," he says. 

I move a little closer.

"Then talk some more." 

He smirks.

"The non-berry parts of the mistletoe are extremely poisonous, causing intense stomach pain, low pulse, diarrhoea, visual disturbances, and convulsions if eaten," he whisper-growls.

My heart has risen up to my throat. He takes away one of his hands that pin one of mine to the wall, and cups the side of my face. I bury my fingers in his hair, ruffle it up, and close my eyes.

"Students out of bed! Students out of bed! " an annoying yell makes us spring apart. 

Filch stands a few ways away from us, glaring in dissapointment. I feel the heat rush up to my face.

"I'm going to report you," he says angrily. 

He's brought a lantern, so I can see more clearly now. Draco stands several feet away from me.

"No, you don't understand! We're going to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party," I explain nervously, pointing towards the party.

"Why are you standing in the opposite direction?" he asks suspiciously.

"We were just coming back. Mr. Filch, you know me! You saw Professor Slughorn invite me to the party," I say frantically. 

He squints at me, and then turns his bulging gaze to Draco, the lamp swinging wildly.

"What about you then? You weren't invited!" he accuses. 

Draco, unlike me, does not look embarrassed at all. Instead, he sports an annoyed scowl.

"You don't know that," he drawls disdainfully. "Couldn't you have come yapping a few minutes later? Granger and I were kind of in the middle of something," he looks at me, smirking.

I am mortified. I avoid his gaze, but as I look at the spot where we were entwined together a few seconds ago, I can't help the redness that rushes to my face. Draco looks satisfied at my reaction, and turns his attention back to Filch.

"Alright then, that's enough cheek from you, young lad. You're coming with me to Professor Slughorn," Filch spits. "And you, girl, if I see you on my way back, you're getting reported too. Get back to your common room."

I nod, and chance a glance at Draco. In the light I can see him more clearly; his hair isn't straight and gelled anymore, it's come loose, sticking up in all places. Oh my god. Did I do that?

"Don't stare Granger, it's rude," he snickers. 

I push my eyebrows together, forming a glare.

Then, his features soften, and he gives me smooth grin. "Don't worry, I was staring too."

I fight the smile that threatens to take over my face, but can't stop the blush that blossoms across my cheeks. Draco laughs, and Filch takes a hold of his wrist and drags him towards the party. 

I stare after them, disappointed that Draco doesn't look back. Then, as if he were reading my mind, Draco turns, smiling softly, and shoots me a wink. And for the umpteenth time that night, my face burns red. 

I turn and rush back to the common room, finally allowing the grin that I've been wanting to show take over my face, because Merlin, it's beautiful when that boy smiles.