Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Songs of Regret	By : RavieSnake Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 76454 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. I also hold no rights to any of the songs mentioned. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
"To charm, or not to charm..."
Hermione eyed her frizzy hair in the mirror as she tapped her wand idly on the sink counter.
"That is the question," she sighed to herself as she pulled at one of her errant curls.
She'd woken early to beat the boys and Ginny down to the Great Hall and avoid the inquisition she was sure awaited her regarding her behavior the night before. She felt considerably better after her long cry, but still really wasn't in the mood to talk. She really wasn't sure what mood she was in, though she was quickly becoming agitated. Why was this such a bloody difficult decision?
With a huff, Hermione frowned at her reflection as the metaphorical devil and angel on her shoulders argued.
Draco likes your hair natural.
Who cares what he likes...he was an arse.
He's always been an arse, but you love him...
You like doing the hair charm. It makes you feel sexy.
You're in school; you're not supposed to feel sexy here.
Do the charm.
Don't do the charm.
"Hermione!? You're not the only one that needs to use the loo, you know!" Lavender called impatiently through the door.
Hermione glared at herself. She flicked her wand. She exited the bathroom a moment later and pushed past Lavender to retrieve her book bag from her bed.
“What did you do to your hair?” Lavender gawked from the bathroom door frame.
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with my hair?” Hermione asked innocently, as she picked-up her bag. Lavender didn’t answer and Hermione didn’t stick around to wait for a response. She hefted the bag over her shoulder and with a last pat to Crookshank’s head, tromped down the stairs to the common room.
The common room was mercifully empty and Hermione swiftly made her way through and out. She hurried through the castle’s corridors to the Great Hall and arrived to find it mostly empty as well. Only a handful of students and the staff were already seated. Hermione glanced up at the staff table and both Snape and Dumbledore gave her acknowledging nods. She nodded in return before staking-out a seat at the Gryffindor table that faced the Slytherin table. She settled down and pulled out a parchment and quill from her bag.
The longing she'd felt the night before to see her children made her think of her own parents. They must be missing her terribly. For Hermione it was only a few months since she'd seen them, as she'd visited them just the day before Ron had told her he was leaving her, but for her parents she realized that in this reality they had not seen her since the Easter holiday.
Hermione grabbed a scone and ate quietly as she wrote her parents a letter thanking them for sending Crookshanks and letting them know how much she missed them. And she did miss them. In the future she had made a point to visit them at least twice a month. Here, she probably wouldn't see them again until Christmas.
Hermione sighed as she wrote, glancing up every so often as more students filed in for breakfast. She wasn't surprised to see a number of new couples holding hands as they entered, though there weren't as many as she thought there might be. Some appeared more affectionate than others, but it certainly wasn't the wanton display of physical affections she feared. She smiled widely when Hannah Abbott kissed Neville Longbottom sweetly on the cheek before she left his side to sit at the Hufflepuff table.
“Good morning, Hermione,” Neville said dazedly as he sat across from her at the Gryffindor table. He grinned dreamily at his empty breakfast plate.
“Good morning, Neville,” Hermione replied with a smirk as she went back to writing. Her quill suddenly scribbled to the side as her elbow was bumped by a body plopping down heavily next to her on the bench. She looked-up angrily and then bit back a groan. Cormac McLaggen.
“You and Abbott, huh…? Not bad Longbottom, not bad at all…” he said brashly with a chuckle. Neville narrowed his eyes at McLaggen, but said nothing and began to fill his plate. Hermione bent back over her parchment and attempted to fix the scribbled word, only to have her arm knocked again as McLaggen nudged her with his elbow.
“What about you, Granger? Got anybody kissing those pretty cheeks?” he gave her a lopsided smirk with a cocked eyebrow that she assumed he expected to be a smoldering look of seduction. Hermione felt bile rise-up in her throat. She suddenly regretted doing the hair charm.
“Who has or hasn’t been kissing my cheeks is none of your concern,” she said icily as she returned her focus to her letter.
“Oh, ho…now that’s not very friendly,” he said, scooting closer to her. McLaggen leaned over the table and rested his arm over Hermione’s letter as he put his face close to hers. “You know, Granger, if you ask nicely, I could be the one kissing your…cheeks,” he purred lifting his other hand as if to brush her hair.
Neville set down his fork and watched warily as Hermione leaned away from McLaggen and shot him a warning glare. “Your hand touches me, McLaggen, and every girl in this school will find out that your middle name is Merriwether…and that you have only one testicle,” she said in a deadly whisper.
Neville snorted and McLaggen’s eyes went wide. He pulled back his hand quickly. Hermione inwardly smirked at the memory of Ron telling her those little tidbits of information about McLaggen after he had had to arrest the arrogant prick for public indecency in The Leaky Cauldron some years back.
Hermione raised her eyebrows at McLaggen and flicked her hand at him with the implication that he should go away. His face contorted with a mixture of anger, fear, and reluctance as he scooted himself a few feet down the bench away from her. With a rather triumphant sigh, Hermione turned back to her letter.
“You all right, Hermione?” Neville asked quietly. Hermione looked up at him with an appreciative smile.
“Yes, Neville. I’m fine. Thank you…” she trailed off as she looked over Neville’s shoulder. Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table staring murderously at McLaggen. How long had he been sitting there? She hadn’t even seen him enter the Great Hall. Hermione stretched her arm out wide with the pretense of yawning to attract his attention. Draco’s eyes darted to her.
“Stop staring,” she signaled quickly. Draco frowned.
“Are you okay?” he signed.
“I’m fine.” Hermione picked up her scone and took a bite as she continued to carefully sign. “Are you okay?”
Draco glanced back at McLaggen and then Snape at the staff table briefly before looking down at his lap.
"No."
He looked back up at Hermione apologetically and pulled at his collar.
Hermione knew what he was sorry about, but she wasn't about to let him off that easily. It was a habit she'd picked-up with her children. Whenever they were expected to apologize, they had to say exactly what they were sorry for...lessens seemed to stick better that way.
"Why are you sorry?"
Draco furrowed his brow at her question. How was he supposed to answer that with bloody hand signals? They hadn’t exactly practiced signs for ‘I’m sorry I was a sodding wanker and got mad and ignored you over something that happened before we were together.’ He thought for a moment as he took a sip of pumpkin juice.
“Yesterday,” he signed simply as he set down his cup. “Talk more later.” He glanced significantly toward the door. Hermione turned to see Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Susan entering the Great Hall. Ron kissed Susan’s hand before she broke away from them and made her way to the Hufflepuff table. Hermione felt a small pang of jealousy and chanced a glance back at Draco. He was quietly eating his eggs, reading a book on the table in front of him. His right hand came up and tugged his ear.
Hermione’s heart fluttered. Her view was suddenly obscured as Harry and Ginny sat down on the other side of the table next to Neville.
"Mione,” Ron greeted loudly as he plopped down next to her. Awe, bloody hell…here come the questions…
“Why didn't you wait for us?" Ron asked lightly as he pulled a whole plate of bacon in front of him.
Hermione inhaled deeply and folded her letter. "Sorry, I wanted to get down here early so I could write a letter to my parents in peace," she answered as she placed the letter and her quill into her bag.
"Yeah, well, we missed you. You had us worried. What happened last night?" Ron asked through a mouthful of half masticated bacon. Hermione took a sip of her juice before she answered.
"I was just feeling a tad overwhelmed. I haven't been feeling well, I miss my family, and now I'm going to have a full, difficult schedule to add to everything." She had chosen her words carefully...the less she lied to her friends the better.
"You could have told us that last night," Harry spoke-up. "When you came in and just ran upstairs, we really were worried.”
Hermione gave him a genuine smile. "I'm sorry I worried you. I just needed a little time to myself, but I'm feeling much better now." Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Ron all looked at her skeptically. She shook her head with a small laugh.
“I’m fine…really.”
“Ok, but if you start feeling overwhelmed again, just tell us. We won’t bite, you know,” he joked. Hermione blanched. Harry most definitely did bite…given the right situation. In the throes of frenzied passion Harry was rather animalistic. Hermione knew exactly why Ginny had reacted so immediately upon seeing him again. A memory of Harry clamping his jaws down on one her thighs flickered in Hermione’s mind and an electric guitar strum twanged in the air.
Fuck!
Hermione’s stomach fell and her heart rose-up into her throat in quiet fear. Draco had to have heard that. She shrunk down in her seat.
“Where did that come from?” Neville asked looking around curiously as Harry and Ron did the same.
“Who knows?” Ginny replied nervously, shooting a glance at Hermione. Hermione had confided in Ginny the truth of her music the night that Draco had first come to the Burrow’s field. Hermione looked back at her with a thankful, though apprehensive smile. Her eyes darted away from Ginny’s when she saw Snape stand-up and descend from the staff table. She watched anxiously as he strode to the Slytherin table and a second later escorted a shaking Draco by the arm out of the Great Hall.
“Looks like someone’s in trouble,” Ron said gleefully. Hermione glanced at Ron to see him smirking satisfactorily in Snape and Draco’s direction. The others all turned around to see what had Ron so pleased. “Stupid git,” Ron said smugly as he stuffed another piece of bacon into his mouth.
Harry frowned and pursed his lips. “Snape never punishes anyone from his house,” he said suspiciously, turning back to face Ron and Hermione. “And Malfoy looked pretty shook-up. You don’t suppose…” He trailed off and squinted at the table in thought.
Hermione’s heart began to hammer uncomfortably. She took a deep breath and picked-up her half-eaten scone. “Suppose what, Harry?”she asked calmly. Harry shrugged.
“I don’t know. I just have this strange feeling like Malfoy is up to something. I felt it ever since we saw him in Diagon Alley. I didn’t really think about it though until yesterday when I saw him just standing there staring at the carriages. What’s he seen that he can see the thestrals?”
“Harry, you and Neville can see the thestrals. That doesn’t mean you’re up to something sinister,” Hermione pointed out as she took a bite, desperately trying to tamp down the panic churning in her gut.
“No, but our dads weren’t bloody Death Eaters…” Harry’s face went white with revelation. “That’s it,” he said firmly.
“What’s it?” Ron asked thickly as he ate.
“Malfoy’s a Death Eater.”
Hermione felt her heart explode. Ron laughed out loud, shooting little pieces of bacon over the table.
“You’re barkin’. You-Know-Who wouldn’t make Malfoy a Death Eater,” Ron scoffed. “He’s only sixteen…and he’s Malfoy.”
“Exactly,” Harry countered. “He’s replaced his father.”
“That seems very unlikely, Harry,” Hermione said matter-of-factly. She impressed herself with how collected she sounded considering how violently her stomach was flipping.
Harry scowled at the table and lightly slammed his fist down next to his plate. “That’s probably why Snape took my map. He didn’t want me to see what Malfoy was up to.”
Hermione vomited.
“Hermione! Are you all right?” Harry asked in alarm. Ron recoiled, dragging his plate away from her.
“Oh, gods,” she choked bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered as she quickly vanished the mess she made.
“Do you want me to go with you to see Madam Pomfrey?” Ginny asked Hermione anxiously. Hermione shook her head.
“No…I…I’m fine. I told you I haven’t been feeling well. I’m sure it’s just something I ate. Actually, I feel much better now. Thanks, Gin.” Hermione forced a small smile.
“I still think you should go see Madam Pomfrey and get checked-out,” Ginny said in a voice that sounded eerily like her mother’s.
“Miss Granger, are you ill?”
Hermione swiveled around to face Professor McGonagall who had come-up behind her.
“No, professor. I mean…I was, but I’m better. Honestly,” Hermione said convincingly. McGonagall gave her a brief once over and nodded.
“Very well. Here is your course schedule,” she said handing Hermione a parchment. “You’re OWL scores ensured that you can continue with all of the courses we discussed before the end of last term.”
“Thank you, professor,” Hermione said as she looked over the schedule. “Oh, I’ve got Runes first thing. I’d better get going if I want to get a front row seat,” she said eagerly. Hermione’s sudden shift in mood seemed to placate her worried friends. This was the Hermione they knew…the one excited to go to class, the one that wouldn’t let a little sickness keep her from learning, the one that wasn’t in love with their enemy.
Hermione stood from the table and threw her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you all later!” she called cheerily as she hurried out of the hall. But she did not go to the Ancient Runes classroom. Instead, she dashed to the nearest bathroom and locked herself inside. She collapsed against the wall and breathed heavily. It had taken every ounce of her energy to put on that happy face and act like everything was okay.
“Damn it!” Hermione cursed loudly to herself. This was not supposed to happen. This time around was supposed to be easier. Harry was not supposed to suspect anything. Draco was going to be furious.
Hermione groaned. She reached into her pocket for her mirror and gasped in surprise at the picture. Snape’s concerned face was staring back at her.
“My. Office. Now,” he mouthed clearly. Hermione nodded and immediately exited the bathroom. She arrived outside Snape’s office a minute later and knocked tentatively on the door. Snape opened the door and quickly ushered her inside before closing the door and locking it and silencing the room. The sight that met Hermione’s eyes shattered her heart into a million pieces.
Draco was sitting in Snape’s chair behind his desk. He was bent forward with his forehead resting on the desk. Both of his hands rested over the back of his head as his body heaved with great wracking sobs. Hermione dropped her bag and ran to him.
“Draco…” she whispered, placing a hand gently on the back of his neck. He lifted his head slightly.
“I’m…I’m...” he choked unable to speak through his hiccupping cries. He flung his arms around Hermione’s waist and pulled her onto his lap with a near bone-crushing hug. He buried his face into her hair.
“Sshh, sshh,” Hermione soothed as she tenderly smoothed her hands over the back of his head and neck. Several minutes passed and Draco was still sniveling. Hermione looked pleadingly over at Snape who was leaning against the wall with a troubled look on his face.
“My Runes class…” she whispered. Snape nodded in understanding and walked out of the office. Hermione returned her focus to the broken man beneath her.
“Draco,” she said gently, “Draco look at me.” He slowly lifted his tear stained face and Hermione cupped it in her hands.
“Talk to me,” she said softly. His puffy, red eyes searched her face for a moment before he opened his mouth.
“I’m…I’m s…sorry,” he spluttered. “P...please…please don’t…don’t leave me.” Hermione shook her head.
“Draco, I’m not going to leave you.”
“I don’t… know why… you’re even with me… to begin with,” he sniffled. Hermione closed her eyes. She knew Draco’s usual arrogance was a coping mechanism for his insecurities, but until that moment she’d never realized just how fragile he really was. How many people had shown him love…two besides herself? Only a mother that couldn’t protect him and a son that for all intents and purposes no longer existed.
Hermione opened her eyes and gazed into Draco’s uncertain face. “Draco, I am with you because I love you and you make me feel complete.”
He pursed his lips. “But why? I’m a prick. I’m angry. I’m selfish. I hate people. I’m the reason we’re stuck here. I’m basically the antithesis of everything you value. You deserve so much better than me.”
“You overestimate my goodness…and underestimate yours,” she said sternly. “I knew exactly what you were when we started this. You’re like a hedgehog.”
Draco laughed despite himself. “I’m a what?”
“A hedgehog,” Hermione repeated with a smile. “They are small mammals that have…”
“I know what a hedgehog is,” Draco interrupted. “I want to know why you’re likening me to one.”
Hermione ran her hands through Draco’s soft hair as she spoke. “Well, hedgehogs have spines. When they feel exposed or threatened, they close-up to protect themselves with their…prickliness. Rub one the wrong way and you’ll feel the sting of their exterior. But when they are left to themselves…when they are at ease, they let down their spines. If you are gentle enough with them you can even pet them and the spines will feel soft.” She paused and then added, “And they are really cute.”
“I am not cute,” Draco frowned, though he was far from mad. He stared at the woman on his lap with admiration. Leave it to Hermione to perfectly explain a person’s entire personality with an absurdly simple analogy.
“Well, you’re handsome anyway,” she smiled but it faded as she thought. “What brought this on? Was it the guitar sound?”
Draco sighed loudly as he pulled back slightly and wiped his face with his handkerchief. “That was simply the tipping point. It started last night after the emotional arse kicking I got from Sev for being mad at you about the spying thing. I had nightmares all night of those fucking images. And then this morning Astoria cornered me in the common room…”
Hermoine’s heart jolted. “What did she do?” she asked hesitantly.
“She slapped me.”
“Oh,” Hermione said quietly as she continued to play with his hair.
“Yeah,” he went on, “Then I enter the Great Hall and see you sitting there with your hair like that. And then that fucking McLaggen…and then Potter and Weasley sit down and you start projecting…” Draco shook his head. “Sev barely got me out of there before I lost it.”
Hermione stilled her hands and considered whether or not to tell Draco that Harry was suspicious of him again. But all she could bring herself to say was, “I’m sorry.”
Draco squeezed his arms a little tighter. “Do I dare ask what caused it?”
Hermione lowered her hands to Draco’s chest and inhaled deeply. “I remembered Harry biting me,” she confessed. She felt Draco tense slightly.
“That was it?” he asked softly.
“That was it.”
Draco breathed a sigh of relief and Hermione felt a twinge of irritation.
“Did you really think it would be something worse? Did all that talk on the train about us trusting each other mean nothing?”
“I trust you,” Draco said, rubbing his hands up and down her back. “It’s them I don’t trust.”
“You’re going to have to start,” she said firmly. Draco cast a troubled look to the floor.
“Hermione?”
She leaned back and looked at him expectantly. Draco looked back up at her.
“What was Potter’s song?”
Hermione gaped at him a moment. “I…I don’t know if it’s such a good idea for me to tell you that given your current emotional state,” she answered uneasily.
“Please,” he whispered, “I just…I need to know.” Hermione regarded him carefully and saw the sincerity in his pleading gray eyes.
“Okay,” she relented quietly. “Do you know any songs by the band Garbage?”
Draco looked at her puzzled. “Um…no.”
Hermione twisted her lips and looked around the room. She spotted what she was looking for. “Hold on,” she said as she lowered herself from Draco’s lap and went to the far wall of the room where a Pensieve was sitting upon a high table. She levitated it to Snape’s desk and then sat back down on Draco’s legs.
Draco watched anxiously then as Hermione brought her wand to her temple and extracted a tiny silver thread. She tapped her wand on the edge of the Pensieve and the thread dropped off into the swirling center. She turned to Draco who suddenly looked absolutely terrified. Hermione gave a small chuckle.
“Calm down,” she said patting him on the cheek, “It’s only a memory of the song.” Draco took a deep breath and nodded. Hermione reached her hand toward the Pensieve as Draco did the same. Just before they dipped their fingers in Hermione turned to him again.
“You’re sure?” He nodded again and they plunged in their hands. A second later they were both tumbling down before landing solidly on the ground inside of a nearly empty canvas tent. Draco looked around curiously and then rested his eyes on Hermione who was staring at a low bunk bed on the other side of the tent. She looked up and locked eyes with Draco as the music started to play.
“What’s the title?” he asked shakily.
“#1 Crush,” she replied calmly. The two of them both just stood and listened as the song played loudly around them. Hermione watched Draco’s face carefully as he listened to the lyrics. His expression was blank, unreadable. Hermione breathed deeply and clenched her fists to keep from trembling at the memory of one of the most intense moments of her life. A few minutes later, when the song ended they were thrown back and found themselves sitting once again in Snape’s chair.
“Well?” Hermione asked timidly. Draco was still staring blankly at the Pensieve. He blinked at it in silence for a moment before he answered her.
“That was…intense,” he swallowed thickly.
“Does it change anything?” she said cautiously, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer.
Draco took a deep breath. “Yes. Yes it does.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I don’t think they can do this, Albus,” Snape said worriedly as he rubbed his forehead. “They’re too damaged.”
The Headmaster leaned back in his chair. “They’re simply overwhelmed. It’s only their first day.”
Snape shook his head. “Draco becomes jealous and unpredictable whenever he feels the slightest rejection. And Hermione either plays music or has hysterical fits whenever she remembers something. They’re too conspicuous. It only takes one wrong person noticing them to ruin us all.”
“What do you suggest we do then?” Dumbledore asked challengingly, crossing his arms over his chest. Snape rubbed his temples.
“I don’t know.”
Dumbledore relaxed his arms. “Severus, look at how strong they’ve been thus far. Draco faced Voldemort and willingly took the Dark Mark a second time…a feat you yourself admitted you’d believed to be impossible. Hermione spent two months in the presence of the people that know her best and none of them have any suspicion of her true circumstances. If they are reacting badly now, I fear I am the one to blame.”
Snape furrowed his brow and lowered his hands. “Explain.”
Dumbledore leaned forward on his desk. “They are fated, Severus. It is not like the fate in Muggle fairy tales. Being fated in the magical realm simply means that their souls are a perfect match. They were not brought together by some divine force controlling the universe to unite them…though because of their nature the universe does tend to bend around them to create similarities.”
“I know all of that already,” Snape huffed.
“Yes, but I do not think you realize how deeply it affects them. They very well could have lived their whole lives just fine without coming together, but once two fated souls claim each other, it is tantamount to torture to separate them. Being apart causes them physical pain. They will get physically ill at the prospect of a different partner or fear of rejection or separation. They will do anything to save each other. And they will die within a week of each other. There is a reason that Muggles write so many tragedies about soul mates. Their connections are intense…and dangerous.”
Snape stared at the old man. “You separated them for two months knowing that it would cause them pain?” he asked angrily.
“Yes,” Dumbledore answered with a sigh. “I thought that it would help condition them for their situation here. It seems I underestimated their bond.”
“How do we salvage this?” Snape asked leaning back in his chair. “He’s too far in to be taken out, and you’ve already designed the plans. But we can’t move forward if they fall to pieces every time they feel separated either.”
“I think the solution is as simple as allowing them time to be together. I’m certain that with regular reassurance they will be able to control their emotions and reactions,” Dumbledore replied nodding at his own assertion.
“I imagine I’ll be responsible for arranging that,” Snape sighed morosely.
Dumbledore smiled. “Delegation is a perk of being the Headmaster.” Snape rolled his eyes.
The elder professor laughed. “We’ll talk it over later. Your first class is going to start in fifteen minutes, Severus. You’d better go prepare,” he said genially. Snape nodded once and without further comment, stood and swept out of the office.
Two minutes later Snape was unlocking his own office door. The moment it cracked open he heard the music and groaned loudly.
“Merlin help me if they are fucking on my desk,” he cringed to himself as he pushed into the office.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Please don’t make me say why,” Draco pleaded, rubbing an anxious hand over his scalp.
“You promised to be completely honest with me. I want to know,” Hermione said unrelenting, shifting her weight in his lap.
“If you love me, you’ll drop this,” he replied edgily.
“Oh no, you don’t get to pull that crap. Tell me why Harry’s song changes anything.”
“Hermione, please. I promise it changes nothing with regards to my feelings for you. Just drop it. Let me process this on my own. For the love of Merlin, please,” Draco begged. He looked her straight in the eyes and tried to convey his need for silence. He could not tell her. He wouldn’t even know how. How could he possibly explain what that song had done to him?
“It changes how you feel about Harry,” Hermione stated bluntly. Draco set his jaw and looked away.
He didn’t need to say anything for Hermione to know that her statement was correct. She pursed her lips and nodded once. “Okay…I won’t ask you about it again,” she said gently. She slid off of his lap and stretched. Draco paid her no attention and continued to stare off at the wall. Hermione pulled out her wand and tapped it on his shoulder.
“What?” he asked resignedly.
“Don’t ‘what’ me,” she laughed, poking the tip of her wand into his chest. Draco turned to her and raised his eyebrows.
“You’re getting close to my spines,” he warned lightly.
“I am immune to your prickliness. Now get up.”
“Why?”
“I think we need some release. I haven’t had a good duel in ages. Now get up,” she said poking him harder.
“Make me.”
Hermione smiled at the challenge. She flicked her wand and spoke the spell just so he’d have the split second of panic before it hit him. “Aguamenti.”
“Fuck!” Draco howled as the water drenched him. He bolted from Snape’s chair and held out his dripping arms. He shook his head as he watched Hermione twirl her wand in her fingers lazily.
“You are so going to get it,” he growled, pulling his wand from his pocket. He dried himself and then hit her with a Rictusempra before she could react. Her music exploded as she shrieked with laughter from the jinx. The song: Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit.
“Good song, Granger!” Draco yelled as he stalked towards her menacingly.
“Arse!” she screamed as she slashed her wand. He flew backwards and landed hard on his butt. He chuckled darkly and was on his feet in seconds with a quick kip-up.
“Show-off,” Hermione jeered with a smile. He smirked and hurled a hex at her. She threw-up a strong Protego that flung them both back into the opposing walls of the office. They both righted themselves quickly and then stared each other down in a brief stand-off.
“You won’t beat me, Granger,” Draco taunted, flipping his wand in his hand. “Death Eater training.”
“Ha!” Hermione scoffed. She twirled her wand like a baton. “You’ve got nothing on my Ministry training, Malfoy.” They locked eyes again and when each saw the other’s pupils go wide they casted Stunners in tandem.
Their spells collided between them. Hermione’s red stream connected with Draco’s blue illuminating the office with an eerie purple light. Sparks flew in all directions as they held the spells. Draco took a step forward and Hermione matched it.
“Give-up!?” he yelled over the roar of the jet streams.
“Never!” Hermione took another step forward and Draco followed suit.
Snape stood in the doorway gaping as he watched the two duel. He pulled his wand and took a step forward to end it when they both suddenly threw-down their wands, ending their warring spells in a hail of purple and gold embers. Draco and Hermione lunged at each other.
Snape placed a hand to his forehead as he watched the two proceed to snog like their lives depended on it.
“They are going to be the death of me,” he said with a huff.
~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Harry’s song is the original version of #1 Crush by Garbage…not the Romeo and Juliet version.
And I once owned a pet hedgehog. His name was Hooty and he was adorably awesome. If ever I adopt another…I am totally naming him Malfoy.
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Songs of Regret