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Getting Ahead	By : iWRITE09 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 9398 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, that pleasure belongs to JK Rowling. I do not make any profit.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter Seven – Till Death Do Us Part

JK owns it all :( ***Special note for this chapter!!

> Please see three disclaimers at the end, I'm afraid if I put them here it may give away some of the 'umph' of reading them!

Review please :)

Draco couldn’t believe his ears. ‘Sorry. She’s SORRY it happened?’ He could hardly control his temper. He glared daggers at her, but refused to answer. He knew if he opened his mouth right now he was going to say something he wouldn’t be able to take back; and the last thing he wanted to do was scare her off completely. That clearly wouldn’t help with his mission to get her in his bed. ‘Or her bed, or a couch, up against a wall, or bookshelf…’ Hell, he’d even settle for a good shag in the prefects loo.

Draco gave a curt nod and turned on his heel, heading straight for his next destination – the Heads Common room to speak to that stupid fuck Zabini. Damned Italian piece of shit.

Hermione stood in shock. She had expected a smartass, degrading remark. Or a fight. Maybe even to be laughed at. But this, his silence was almost unnerving. She could tell he was angry, so why wasn’t he retaliating?

She half expected him to send a jinx at her back the moment she turned around. Therefore, she waited for him to turn the corner before continuing her rounds. Madeye would be thrilled by her ‘constant vigilance.’

Half way down the fourth floor corridor Hermione peered out of the window and spotted a figure walking towards the lake. She was willing to bet a few galleons on who that could be. Sneaking out after hours, had to be Harry Potter. She grinned and shook her head, already heading for the nearest set of stairs.

Harry was resting his back against a tree by the lake when Hermione finally reached him. She plopped down into the cool, dewy grass beside him. He casually slung an arm over her shoulder.

“I thought you had quit.” Hermione nodded her head at the square bulge in his pocket.

Harry gave her a small, almost apologetic smile. “Yeah well, the dreams are back.”

She patted his thigh. Her parents, being dentists, would be disappointed in her for not further discouraging her best friend’s bad habit; but then again, her parents also didn’t have dreams about being murdered by the most powerful dark wizard in history almost nightly. Hermione cursed Dudley for getting Harry started, but she wouldn’t nag at him for it. Well, not tonight anyway.

Hermione watched as Harry lit a cigarette and took a long drag. He offered her the smelly thing, but she politely declined. She held in a giggle as she recalled the first time Ron had tried it. He had sucked too hard and ended up coughing and sputtering, his eyes watered and his nose had wrinkled in disgust. All the better, at least his experience had been bad with the ‘muggle smoke stick’ and he hadn’t picked up the habit.

“Do you have a minute to listen?” Harry asked, staring out over the lake with tired, troubled green eyes.

“All night.” Hermione snuggled closer, prepared to listen to his venting.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Blaise opened the portrait, what choice did he have? Whoever was banging on it was hell-bent on getting in. ‘Ah shit, Malfoy.’

Malfoy stormed in past Blaise, and began pacing back and forth. Blaise stood with his hands on his hips, waiting patiently for what he knew may very well end in a duel.

“Are you fucking her?” Draco wasn’t one to beat around the dirigible plum bush, that’s for sure.

“No. Are you?” Blaise knew the answer, but felt the need to make it obvious to Draco that he knew something was up between the two.

“Well I would be a hell of a lot closer if you would butt out! Fuck Blaise, you don’t even like virgins.”

“She’s different.” Blaise replied coolly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning casually against the wall.

Draco slowly turned to full on face Blaise, his best mate since childhood. No, the Mudblood wasn’t worth throwing away a friendship over; but a little competition never hurt anyone.

“Clearly, one of us has underestimated the other.” Draco replied in an even tone. He stuck out his hand. “Till death do us part?” It had been their manly way of agreeing to disagree since fourth year when they had first butted heads over Daphne Greengrass.

Draco had been the one to pop her cherry; but a month later Daphne had given him up for Blaise - after she found out Draco was also fooling around with her younger, and more promiscuous sister Astoria, of course.

Blaise grinned and shook Draco’s hand firmly. Why shouldn’t he agree to a little competition? Hell, he’d already won, right?

“You just don’t give up do you?”

“And why should I? Granger wants me, whether she knows it or not.” Draco called over his shoulder as he exited the Heads Common.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione walked into the Heads Common room with a pleased little smile on her face. She dearly missed spending long nights in the Gryffindor common room with her two best friends. She even missed watching them play wizarding chess and hearing their nonstop chatter about quidditch – well, maybe not the quidditch bit so much.

It felt great to have caught up with Harry, and she promised herself she would take more time to stop by the Gryffindor common room; IF all of her homework was complete of course.

She wasn’t surprised to find the common room empty, it was late. She was sure Blaise had given up waiting for her and gone to bed. Hermione didn’t mean to stay out so late with Harry. She actually felt guilty for allowing a student to be out after hours, especially outside of the protective castle walls.

She frowned and was still mentally lecturing herself for taking advantage of her head duties when she walked into her bedroom. She blinked in shock and her mouth dropped open. There sat Blaise Zabini shirtless with his back propped up against her pillows. Her crimson comforter covered from his waist down, with Crookshanks comfortably curled up in his lap. One hand was busy stroking the head of her traitor cat, while the other was holding open one of her trashy romance novels. His eyes were busy scanning the page and a devilish smile adorned his handsome face.

‘I’ll never hear the end of that one…’ Hermione thought to herself as she noticed the title of the particular novel he had chosen.

He glanced up at her, still grinning, and went back to the novel as if this were no big deal. Blaise Zabini, Slytherin Head Boy: sitting in her bed, reading her trashy romance novel, half naked, and petting her pussy…err…cat - as if this were no big deal.

Hermione smirked and gestured to her room when he glanced back up at her, “By all means, make yourself at home.”

Blaise set the novel aside and patted the spot next to him on the bed enticingly. Hermione’s mouth practically watered at the way his pectoral muscles flexed as he did it. ‘Oh, Crookshanks, you lucky bastard.’

Slowly, Hermione released the clasp of her robes and let them fall to the ground. She stepped over them and began unbuttoning her blouse, purposely keeping eye contact with Blaise. As she finished the last button she turned her back to him. Peering over her shoulder at him, she began to slide the white shirt down her arms. Lower, lower, lower, until her entire back was exposed to Blaise. She dropped the shirt to the floor.

By this time his charming grin had been replaced by a hungry, predatory look. “Don’t stop, Hermione.”

“You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit!” Hermione playfully chastised him. She sauntered into her large closet and closed the door behind her, casting a locking charm and then lighting her wand.

She quickly changed into one of Ron’s old t-shirts and a pair of loose sweatpants. She swept her hair into a high, messy bun. ‘If you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.’ Hermione was sure she was no Marilyn Monroe, even on her best days, but she applauded the quote.

She stepped out into her bedroom, extinguishing the light from her wand and placing it on her desk. ‘Malfoy never would have let me get by with just a half strip tease, he would have broken down the closet door.’ Hermione gave her head a little shake to clear that thought away and slid into bed next to Blaise.

Blaise leaned in and kissed her sweetly. She almost wished she had provoked him into acting out the obscene ultimatum he had offered her earlier if she didn’t speak to Malfoy. Obviously if she had wanted sweet kisses, she wouldn’t be lying in bed with a Slytherin. Hell, she could have gone to Ron’s bed for this. ‘Why can’t Blaise just give me what I want?’

Hermione pulled away from Blaise and pinched the bridge of her nose. She seriously needed to clear her head of these crazy thoughts, and soon.

She smiled apologetically at Blaise’s questing look. “Sorry, migraine. We should really get some rest anyway. Especially you, your first quidditch game is tomorrow right?” She’d have to thank Harry later for that valuable excuse.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Two hours later Hermione was still lying awake in her bed. Her back was to Blaise, his arm slung around her middle. He had finally fallen asleep about twenty minutes ago. About an hour after they had extinguished the lights, he had whispered her name into her ear. Hermione had concentrated fully on keeping her breathing deep and even.

She had stooped to faking sleep. ‘Petty, Hermione.’ She was disgusted with herself, especially after he kissed the side of her neck sweetly and had left her alone.

Her mind was buzzing with ways out. So far she had narrowed it down to three.

One, she could march straight to the Slytherin dorm and spend the rest of the night in Malfoy’s bed. Although her choice would be blatantly obvious to Blaise, he would probably never speak to her again.

Two, she could forget about Malfoy all together and just enjoy her seventh year with Blaise.

Or lastly: she could ignore Malfoy, concentrate on her school work, reestablish a completely civilized work only relationship with Blaise, and set all right with the universe.

She was positive if she asked any of her friend’s advice, they would recommend her last choice. However, Hermione finally fell asleep envisioning the first.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast feeling extremely pleased with herself. She’d managed to weasel out of morning snuggling by simply leaving a note on her pillow long before Blaise had stirred. She’d even spent an hour in the library catching up on her studies after her morning shower.

Sure, she’d had to force herself out of bed at five in the morning – but she was sure it was worth it. The last thing she wanted was to lead Blaise on any further than she already had. Especially after how unsure she’d felt of herself and the entire situation all night.

She happily served herself some bacon and toast with raspberry preserves.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Blaise,

I didn’t want to wake you. Good luck at your game today.

- H.

And that was all her neat handwriting told him. He had a feeling something was up. ‘Draco fucking Malfoy better pray to Merlin that this something doesn’t involve him.’

Blaise couldn’t get ready fast enough, he was eager to get down to breakfast to study Hermione’s body language.

He walked into the Great Hall just as a large charcoal colored owl swooped down and delivered a long, thin parcel into the Head Girl’s lap. He’d recognize that owl anywhere.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione’s cheeks were burning. She’d opened the package expecting a rolled up scroll of some type, perhaps from a professor, but no, not even close. She held a single stunningly orange rose in one hand, and a small note in the other. She went over the colors of roses and their meanings in the vast amount of knowledge her head stored. ‘Orange, desire.’ Quickly she unfolded the note.

Tonight.

She didn’t recognize the handwriting, but the bold strokes and arrogant scrawl of the one word raised her suspicions. She glanced up through her eyelashes to the Slytherin table. There sat Malfoy audaciously staring at her, proudly sporting his infamous smirk. That was all the confirmation she needed.

“Bloody prat.” She mumbled under her breath, but her heart was beating a symphony against her rib cage.

Inconspicuously she scanned the Slytherin table for Blaise. He was sitting just a few seats down from Malfoy, separated only by Theodore Nott and Pansy. He was carrying on a conversation with the sixth year sitting across from him. He looked completely at ease.

‘Well of course he didn’t notice, you idiot. Every move you make isn’t being watched and analyzed.’ She chided herself while placing the rose and note back into the box, then into her school bag.

She swung her bag onto her shoulder and set off for the library. She could already feel the tension of another long day building. ‘Great.’

Well here it is, chapter seven! I hope you enjoyed it! Please review.

- Additional Disclaimers!!! -

"Clearly, one of us has underestimated the other" - I'm not sure if this is the exact wording, but I did pull this quote (or some variation of it) from the movie Burlesque. It just fit so well.

"You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit” - I have no idea who originated this quote, but it was not me. The little kid I babysit says it to his younger sibling, and so he was my inspiration.

"If you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best" - Marilyn Monroe.
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Getting Ahead