CHAPTER THREE

By the time Ron and Hermione were sat down at the Three Broomsticks that Saturday afternoon, Hermione felt as if it were long overdue, as if her week had been four. Working with Malfoy was draining. Completely draining. It wasn't that he didn't pull his weight; because much to Hermione's surprise, he did. But more so, that constant smug look and constant stream of witty comebacks, smirks, and cheek.

"Have you thought about what you are wearing to the ball... or perhaps who you will take," Ron enquired – peering over his butterbeer at Hermione on the other side of the stool who let out a small laugh.

"Ron, you're almost as bad as some of the girls at this school. That's over two months away, I haven't had a single thought about it," Hermione responded.

The mid semester ball was a massive event at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Both boys and girls dressed in their most expensive dresses and suits, danced the night away for one night of fun. That was the one day were all students embraced inter-house unity.

"Well Lavender is already trying to force me to be her date... I'm going to need an excuse, a reason to say no to her. Could you think of any?" Ron hinted; eyes bright as his foot softly brushed Hermione's under the table.

She scrunched up her eyebrows, "hm you can't just say no? It's really not that rude Ronald." A giggle fell from her mouth to which Ron smiled softly.

"Well, I..." Ron sighed, "I guess..."

Both took a sip of their butterbeer, "but you didn't answer me... Did you have anybody in mind?" Ron pushed.

She hadn't even given it a thought; she usually never took a date to those events. In the past she had gone with Harry as friends, or even with Neville – it wasn't romantic, just friends having fun – she enjoyed those times.

"I don't think I need a date," she shrugged.

"Well maybe if this date goes well... I'll be allowed a 2nd, then perhaps if that goes well, we can take each other to the ball?" Ron asked playfully, leaning forward against the table, his face cupped against his hands.

Hermione frowned, and then suddenly it all made sense to her. Ron wearing his extra special not so casual, casual clothes, insisting on paying for their drinks and the fries they shared, walking to the girl's dorm to escort the two of them to Hogsmeade together. This wasn't Ron just asking him for drinks after a week of school. This was Ron asking her on a date. Hermione shouldn't have been surprised; she shouldn't have been at all. The entire school thought they were dating or should be dating, the entire school said they were destined to end up together, perfect for one another. It was all she heard.

"Oh..." Hermione suddenly said, cheeks flushing a pretty pink. "I-I feel so embarrassed, Ron I think I misunderstood what coming here meant. I thought you meant as friends, but I see now that maybe you meant this as a date?"

The ginger haired boy flushed an equally awkward pink colour, hand coming to rub at his neck, "I had..." he trailed off before sitting up straighter, "if you had known that when I first asked, do you think you would have said yes still?"

That was the question, and she didn't know how to answer. She thought back to what everyone in school always said they would end up together eventually.

So Hermione, although entirely unsure about her next words and decision, slowly nodded.

"Y-yeah? I think so... it's a date."

With that Ron smiled softly, slowly taking her hand in his own. So, they continued nibbling on their fries and sipping their butterbeer both now in agreement this was a date.

---

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, uncomfortably rigid. Books in her lap and quill softly tapping against her leg. She looked around the room. The large stain glass window in front of her overlooked the quidditch field. A view which no other dormitory was privy to. The extra-large king-sized bed sat in the middle of the room, yet the sheer size of the room itself almost dwarfed the large bed. A couch, television, and reading corner which she was almost sure was untouched.

"I would much prefer to work on this assessment piece in the library," muttered Hermione. She glanced at Malfoy who lounged on his own bed.

"I told you Granger. If I'm forced to work with you on this potions assessment, it's going to be on my terms. My terms involve being comfortable in my own bed," Draco sung, smirk on his face, "I suggest you get comfortable."

Hermione grumbled; how could she ever be comfortable sitting on a bed with Draco Malfoy. Alone.

"So, Granger. Heard you and Weasel are a thing now. How perfect you two are for one another." Draco commented, in an almost grumble like tone.

It had been almost 3 weeks since her initial date with Ron, the two had become closer, shared a couple of hugs and kisses. They displayed normal shows of affection as other couples do. But they weren't a couple. They hadn't labelled it. As much as Hermione hated to say it, she still wasn't sure if she was into Ron like that. She didn't know If she was doing it for herself or because of the expectation of others.

Hermione wasn't sure why the following words came out of her mouth. To Malfoy of all people.

"I'm not sure."

Suddenly Draco was interested. A smirk residing on his features again. This time he crawled from his position on the bed to sit next to Hermione.

"You're not sure?" Draco questioned, "trouble in paradise?"

It was condescending, totally condescending. Hermione grumbled a scoff, eyes rolling as she turned to her potions partner.

"None, of your business Malfoy. Are you going to help me brew this potion or not?"

Another smirk. Hermione hated it.

"Sure. But first tell me. Why him? What makes your heart pound when you see Weasel-be. I'm genuinelycurious. Obliviously it isn't his keen incline for the academics. He really isn't the smartest."

Hermione's mouth fell open, but there was no argument, and much to Malfoy's dismay, no response either.

Draco smirked, inching closer to her until the sides of the legs almost touched, hanging off the side of the bed.

"Does he make you feel good Granger? Does he fuck you until you finally don't have an anything to say except moans of pleasure... is that it?"

Hermione gasped, standing up from the bed. Books from her lap falling all over the floor of Draco's. She grumbled, dropping to her knees to collect her belongings as she muttered under her breathe.

"Don't be so foul!"

Draco laughed, loud and mockingly, "oh so he doesn't get you off then. I see."

Hermione scoffed, a disgusted sound falling from her mouth.

"I think it's best we finish this potion another time Malfoy. Good day."

With that she was rushing out of his room and back towards her own leaving a smug looking Slytherin behind.