Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Twisted	By : BB_Rosie & ArielKidd Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 31731 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I don't make any money from this story. I own nothing.

Chapter List
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Many students lingered in the foyer to watch. Hermione didn’t raise her voice, but attention was drawn to her hostility and watery eyes. Ron stood defensively with his arms crossed over his chest, and his Quidditch gear smeared in dirt. That dirt smudged at Hermione’s finger as she jabbed him on the burly chest, but he didn’t flinch or back down. He only got angrier. As did Hermione, because Lavender Brown still clung off his arm and scowled right at her.
“Can we at least have this conversation alone?” Hermione gritted out. She looked pointedly at the now pouting Lavender.
“Give us a minute, will ya?” sighed Ron. He shrugged Lavender off his arm and watched her storm away. “There – We’re alone.”
“How could you,” she whispered. “We … I thought we were going to go to Slughorn’s dinner together…”
Ron sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Her eyes began to water, but she tried to resist the tears. Not only did she want to avoid crying in front of Ron and the onlookers, she definitely didn’t want Malfoy and Zabini to see her cry. Both the Slytherins watched intently from the far wall, but Malfoy appeared quite furious.
“When you asked me to go with you, I thought you meant as friends, ‘Mione,” said Ron awkwardly. “Lav and I –”
Hermione all but screeched, “Lav?”
“Let me finish,” he said. “Lavender and I … We’ve kind of been talking a lot lately and -”
“You mean snogging,” she spat. “Just say it, Ronald. You’ve been snogging her.”
“Yes,” he nodded. He showed no guilt. “We have. And she asked if I wanted to be official with her, and I said yes. I didn’t know … I didn’t know you felt that way about me, ‘Mione.”
“I didn’t,” she fibbed. “I don’t. I just thought …” she trailed off, unable to form a decent lie. “Never mind, Ronald. I hope you have fun snogging Lav.”
Hermione barged passed him and stormed out of the castle, to the snowy grounds outside. She held back her tears with difficulty – Ron wasn’t watching her anymore, as he’d chased after Lavender the moment Hermione left, but Malfoy and Zabini were watching her. She could feel their gazes follow her right out of the castle.
The minute she was clear of the onlookers, she dropped down onto a bench and gazed out onto the Black Lake. It was then that she let the tears fall. She didn’t sob or sniffle – she wept; quietly and sadly.
All these years, she realised, she had been a fool. Her heart had grown fond of Ron in a way it had for nobody else. And even though at times she considered Ron to be difficult and challenging, she hadn’t stopped caring about him in that way. And he had chosen the silly, sickening Lavender Brown over her. It was the greatest slap to the face she could ever receive.
“Oi, Granger!”
Hermione quickly swatted away her tears and rubbed at her damp nose. She turned around and saw Cormac McLaggen – one of the onlookers to the spat with Ron – jog down the steps. He was slowly running toward her, and had a hopeful expression which made her sigh wearily. It really wasn’t the best time for her to be badgered by the creep.
Behind Cormac, on the steps at the castle doors stood Zabini and Malfoy. The latter looked uncertain and irritated, but he wasn’t looking at her – he was trying to kill Cormac with his lethal eyes.
“Hi Cormac,” she managed to say without crying again.
“Hey,” he said confidently and sat beside her on the bench. Hermione spared a final glance at the Slytherins on the steps. Malfoy glowered cruelly at her before he turned and stormed back into the castle. Zabini shrugged and followed casually – he didn’t have a care in the world.
“So,” began Cormac. “You and Weasley, eh?”
“What about us?”
“Just looked like you were arguing with him.”
“Did it?” asked Hermione, rhetorically. She turned and stared ahead. Cormac didn’t take the hint and scooted closer to her.
“Thought you two had a thing going on,” he continued. Hermione rolled her eyes discreetly. But then an idea struck her.
“No,” she smiled at him. “We’re friends; always have been and … I hope we always will be. But he’s left me short of a date for the Slugclub dinner on Saturday–”
Cormac fed right into the palm of her hand. He interrupted her and blurted out, “I’ll go with you. If you want.”
“Oh,” said Hermione. She pretended to think it over before she nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you Cormac.”
“Anytime,” he grinned charmingly. But it disgusted her slightly.
Hermione pretended to only be pleased by their date, but she wasn’t. The only reason she entertained it to begin with was for something dreadfully childish: To make Ron jealous. She hoped that if he saw her with Cormac, he would feel as she did seeing him with Lavender. And if not, she wouldn’t have to go alone to a ‘bring-a-date’ dinner. A win-win situation … So she told herself at least.
The table was at full capacity, and dessert had just been served. She sat between Harry and Cormac, but that wasn’t the problem. Cormac continuously pawed at her and apparently went oblivious to her squirming. His hand would place itself on her lap and she would jerk away. His hand would then leave her lap and rest on her shoulder instead. She would jerk away. His hand would then drape over her shoulders and– you guessed it – she would jerk away. At this rate she would have rather attended the dinner party with a Flobberworm than Cormac and his greasy paws.
Hermione didn’t necessarily need a date for the Slug Club dinner party, but she had initially invited Ron as he’d felt excluded. Harry and Hermione were a part of the Club they didn’t care about, but Ron cared, so she’d invited him. Also, she’d hoped it was a stepping stone for a blossoming in their relationship. She had been wrong and now she’d backed herself into a corner. To make Ron jealous, she’d accepted Cormac’s offer, and now was stuck with him all night.
Hermione smiled politely as Slughorn babbled on about his VIP connections in the Wizarding World. She didn’t care about his relationships but played the part of the graceful guest. Truthfully, she was more focused on evading Cormac’s unwanted affections, Harry’s regular glowers and Zabini’s questioning glances. Harry was still annoyed that she had confiscated his Map and cloak, which explained his scowls. But Zabini had no business looking at her the way he did. And he definitely had no business with the date he had brought to the dinner – Luna Lovegood.
When dessert ended it was clear the night was far from over. Slughorn levitated several bottles of butterbeers over to the table and placed them in front of each student. He entered into a conversation with Ginny and the others dispersed from the table. Zabini fixed his hair in a mirror, and Hermione used the opportunity – she immediately grabbed Luna’s wrist and dragged her out onto the balcony.
“Hello Hermione,” said Luna dreamily when they reached the balcony. “Lovely evening, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s divine,” dismissed Hermione. “What are you doing here with Zabini?”
Luna smiled softly and looked at the curtains. They shielded the inside of the room where her date was. She replied, “He invited me.”
“Did he say why?” asked Hermione.
Luna thought tranquilly before she said with a smile, “No, he didn’t.”
“Why did you accept?” interrogated Hermione.
“He is nice,” she said simply. “Not many people are nice to me at Hogwarts. Blaise always has been.”
Hermione looked incredulous as she repeated, “Blaise?”
“That’s his name,” smiled Luna.
“I suppose it is,” said Hermione uncertainly. “I’m just … taken aback, Luna. I never imagined you would be Blaise Zabini’s date.”
It came out harsher than she had intended. Her tone implied that Luna wasn’t good enough for the vain and handsome Blaise Zabini, but Hermione actually meant quite the opposite. Luna was a peculiar girl, and not someone Hermione would have chosen as a friend, but she was good-hearted and kind. Whereas, Zabini was a snake to his slimy core, even if his exterior was charming.
Luna simply continued to stare at the drapes. Hermione sensed that Luna had misunderstood her comments.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” said Hermione softly. “I meant that you’re too sweet for somebody like Blaise Zabini. I don’t trust him.”
“I do,” she said.
“No offence, Luna, but you don’t even know him – how can you admit to trusting a Slytherin who openly associates with the likes of Draco Malfoy?”
“His friendship with Malfoy isn’t my concern,” said Luna brightly. “Blaise has always been kind to me, Hermione. I trust him and I know him.”
“When have you ever spoken to him?” asked Hermione. She cocked her hip to the side and folded her arms over her chest. “Before this year started, had you ever had a conversation with him?”
“Yes,” nodded Luna. “We would talk sometimes in the library. A few times he helped me find my missing shoes and socks.”
Hermione gaped. She had no idea that Luna and Blaise had ever spoken before he greeted her in Study Hall a few weeks ago. Luna had never said anything about him … But then again, Luna was never really close with Hermione, so what reason would she have to mention him?
“I’m sorry,” said Hermione guiltily. “I didn’t know…”
“Nobody did,” she shrugged and smiled. “He didn’t speak to me when others were around … Only when we were alone.”
Hermione knew exactly what she was saying – he was, at one point, perhaps ashamed of her. But it still wasn’t sitting right with Hermione… What reason would Zabini have to all of a sudden announce his familiarity with Luna Lovegood? Why would he take her on a date publically, when before that he was sneaking around the shadows with her?
The curtains shifted and Zabini stepped out onto the balcony. He smirked knowingly at Hermione and draped his arm over Luna’s shoulders.
“Planning to sabotage my date, Granger?”
“No,” bit Hermione. She eyed him suspiciously. He only smiled sincerely at her. “Are you planning on fixing your hair, Zabini?”
It was a low blow, but it had the perfect effect. Zabini’s smile was wiped from his face and he immediately tended to his black hair, combed to the side.
Hermione smiled falsely at him and made to push through the curtains.
“So eager to return to Cormac, I see,” mocked Zabini. She stopped in her tracks and turned to glower at him. “He’s been looking for you in there. I believe he is after a good snog or more.”
Hermione stiffened and pursed her lips. The thought of returning to Cormac was shudder-worthy, but staying on the balcony with Zabini was infuriating. Alas, she chose the lesser of two evils … maybe.
She chose to stay out on the balcony … Zabini’s arrogance was nothing compared to Cormac’s wandering hands.
“May I be so bold as to ask what your earlier quarrel with Weasley was about?” asked Zabini as he pulled Luna closer to him. Luna allowed it, and stared out onto the school grounds with a dreamy expression. Hermione wondered if she even knew where she was at times.
“It was nothing,” dismissed Hermione. “Why are you so interested in my personal matters?”
“I assure you,” he smirked, “it is not I who is interested.”
“What do you mean by that?” she asked suspiciously.
Zabini only continued to smirk and brush non-existent crumbs from his pristine white shirt. Slowly, he looked back up at her and asked, “Did he stand you up for Brown?”
“I don’t know what gave you that impression,” she said stiffly. “Ron and I were having a heated discussion about something else entirely.”
“Is that so?” chuckled Zabini. “From where I was standing it looked –”
Hermione interrupted, “Appearances can be deceptive, Zabini.”
He grinned and heard the implications – she was referring to him.
“Indeed they can be,” he agreed.
Luna continued to stare out at the grounds with her dreamy smile and twinkling blue eyes. She may have looked oblivious, but Zabini knew differently. He squeezed her shoulder gently and addressed her, “Wouldn’t you agree, Luna?”
“Yes,” she nodded, and smiled brightly at him. “It’s like Thestrals, isn’t it? Some people think that they’re cruel creatures and scary … But they’re really sweet and gentle animals.”
Hermione was shocked for a moment. She had been certain that Luna wasn’t listening at all to the conversation – she had, after all, only stared out onto the grounds with a passive expression.
“My thoughts exactly,” smiled Zabini.
Hermione frowned and watched an odd moment pass between Luna and Zabini as they gazed at one another. She almost … for a second … She almost believed Zabini’s intentions to be sincere, which was utterly ridiculous. He was a Slytherin snake, and best friend of Draco Malfoy – the ultimate prat and son of a Death Eater. Hermione believed in the cliché phrase, ‘you are the company you keep.’ That applied to Zabini as far as she was concerned.
Zabini idly played with a strand of Luna’s yellow hair and looked at Hermione thoughtfully. “You know, Granger – I do believe you could have at least invited a more suitable date for yourself. The likes of Cormac do you no justice … That includes the Weasel you so desperately want to notice you.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Pardon me, Zabini, but I wonder what makes you think you have any right to make assumptions about me, or what is suitable for me.”
“Are we not friends?” he teased.
“Acquaintances,” she quipped.
“Well then,” he laughed. “Please accept my opinion as one from an acquaintance.”
“You think you’re so suave, Zabini,” remarked Hermione curtly. “You’re not. You’re not fooling me – I know you and that ferret are up to something. I’m tired of turning every corner and seeing you or him there, watching me – I’m not a toy in your game, so leave me out of whatever you’re up to.”
He put his free hand in his pocket and his other hand still played with Luna’s hair. Luna looked sadly at Hermione before she pleaded up at Zabini with her blue eyes. She didn’t want them to quarrel, and one look down at Luna had Zabini silenced.
“Excuse me,” Hermione said and disappeared through the curtains.
When she stepped into the room, she spotted Cormac in the corner talking to Harry. Harry gave her a meaningful look from across the room and she understood – run. She smiled thankfully at Harry and made her escape. It was rude of her, she knew, but Slughorn could continue his festivities without her there. After her chat with Zabini and his familiarity with Luna, she was in no mood to stay at the party.
Hermione closed the door behind her and walked down the corridor. She made it about half way before the dreaded pure-blood stepped out of a connected corridor and right into her path. He showed no sign of surprise on his aristocratic and cool face.
“Malfoy,” she greeted curtly. Even though her tone was rude and unwelcoming, she still surprised herself – she didn’t know why she had even greeted him in the first place.
Malfoy said nothing – he stepped closer and stopped when he towered over her. His icy eyes dragged over her red dress and he said, “For a mudblood, you clean up well.”
Was that a compliment, or an insult? Hermione was furious and heard only the insult.
“I can’t say the same about you, Malfoy,” she snapped. “No matter how well you dress, you can never rid yourself of the ugliness within that grotesque heart.”
He grabbed her and slammed her back against the wall. Hermione gaped up at him and went to snatch her wand, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.
He looked down at her with steely eyes and smirked at her distress.
“I wanted for so long to see that fear in your eyes,” he said, looking down at her. “Ever since you slapped me … it’s all I could think about. I concocted various scenarios to invoke that fear within you.”
His smirk slowly disappeared and he inched his face closer to hers. The hatred and coldness in his grey eyes had her heart beating madly. He lingered his lips near hers– she could feel his breaths tickling against her skin.
He whispered huskily, “And now that I see it in your eyes, I find myself … enchanted.”
Hermione sneered, “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Malfoy, but if you don’t let me go, I’m reporting you to the headmaster. You have no right to touch me, and I will not let it happen again.”
A genuine grin of humour twisted at his lips, but it was still cruel in a sense … devilish. “Report me,” he said. “It will change nothing – I am a Malfoy. Do you know what that means?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “It means you’re an entitled rich boy who barely detached himself from his mother’s bosom, and acting out in retaliation. It means you’ve had everything handed to you your entire life, and had false beliefs engrained into your psyche – and most of all, it means you’re a pathetic excuse for a human being.”
Despite her words possessing such venom and confidence, she feared her eyes would give her away – fear struck at her and she wanted to flee.
Malfoy’s grin faded and he stared icily at her. “It means,” he said angrily, “I pride myself on getting everything I want, whether I earn it, steal it, or take it; whether it resists or submits … It only matters that I have it.”
Hermione burned with fear and fury – she shifted her leg and raised it to knee him in the groin, but he was quicker. He evaded her attack easily, shoved his leg between hers and hoisted her further up the wall. Her feet dangled and didn’t touch the ground, and he held her up by the wrists and his body pressed against hers. They were now eye-level, and his lips stayed a mere touch from hers.
“It’s good to know my words were registered,” he whispered cruelly.
Shakily she spat, “What would you want with a mudblood? That’s what I am, right? That’s what you call me – I’m just a mudblood to you.”
“That you are,” he agreed throatily. “A mudblood with big brown eyes that betray every fleeting emotion that fills you; locks so luscious I want to snatch a fistful each time I see you. A mudblood is what you are, Granger … one so tempting it’s surely sinful.”
She inhaled sharply as his lips touched hers. He went to kiss her – a kiss she didn’t want – but a voice interrupted them.
“Draco,” Zabini called casually. He walked down the corridor casually with Luna tucked under his arm. Luna looked between Hermione and Malfoy worriedly, and Hermione tried to control her adrenaline. Zabini’s arrival helped with that.
Malfoy didn’t move. He kept his hold on Hermione, and his body against hers – his lips still touched hers, and each of his breaths swept into her mouth. He tasted like whiskey and expensive cigars.
Zabini approached with Luna and said, “Sorry to interrupt, but we have matters to attend to, Draco.”
Malfoy slowly brushed his lips against Hermione’s. She groaned and turned her face to the side. He kissed her cheek instead, and the kiss lingered … mockingly.
“Remember that, mudblood,” he whispered against her cheek.
She glowered at him as he stepped away and she landed on her feet.
Zabini glanced between the pair before he turned to Luna and took her hand in his. He kissed her knuckles and bowed his head.
“Thank you for a lovely evening,” he said charmingly. Luna smiled.
Hermione stepped closer to Luna and pulled out her wand. Before she could train it on Malfoy, he and Zabini swept down another corridor and went out of sight.
Luna, being the dreamy and vacant girl she is, turned and smiled at Hermione, “I had a great time. Did you?”
Hermione gave her a bewildered, outraged look.
Luna simply continued to smile at her.
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