| Puffskein
Join Date: Sep 2006 Location: Canada
Posts: 2,438
|  Chapter 9: Hermione's Note
Yeah, well not much editing this time, isn't as long as chapter 8, so yeah, here it is.
Chapter 10 will most likely be posted tomorrow. (don't see any reason to hold it off... unless you all want me to slow down  I don't mind waiting if anyone has any problems with the speed of posting)
P.S: I don't like having one colour for everything in a post, so as you can tell, it's just two different colours
P.P.S: I'm assuming everyone now knows about my rambling 'problem' by now 
Chapter 9
Hermione’s Note
Hermione was quiet for the rest of the week. She tried talking to Draco, trying to explain what happened, but he ignored her, not responding. The only time he did talk to her was when he was with Crabbe and Goyle, teasing her, Harry and Ron someway or another. Hermione noticed he was harsher about it, which bothered her slightly.
Draco wasn’t sure what to believe with what Hermione was trying to tell him. He never believed in love, thinking it was only stories people made up, but when he was with Hermione, he knew he was wrong. With seeing Harry kissing her, it broke his heart. It was then he truly realized how much he truly loved Hermione Granger.
“The ball is in two days, who’re you going with?” Ginny asked Hermione excitedly as they walked outside of the castle once all classes were over.
“So soon?” was all Hermione could get out.
“Time flies, huh?”
“Yeah...”
“So are you going with anyone?” Ginny asked again.
“Not sure...”
Hermione truly wasn’t sure anymore. When Draco suggested the Masquerade Ball, he asked her to go with him. Since the night Harry kissed her in front of him, he hasn’t said a word to her, barely even looking in her direction anymore. She wasn’t sure if they were ‘fighting’, broken up, or anything else.
“How can you be not sure?” Ginny asked, slightly confused. They stopped under a large oak tree and sat under it.
“Someone... asked me, and I said yes, but we haven’t spoken in the past little while about it,” Hermione responded, shrugging.
“Well go to him and ask. It’s not that hard,” Ginny answered as if it was obvious.
“I have, but every time I try, he doesn’t reply.”
“Who is this guy?”
Hermione thought quickly.
“Why do you want to know?” she asked, attempting to stall Ginny enough so she could think.
“I want to have a talk with him.”
Hermione laughed as if it was a joke.
“Trust me, you don’t.”
“Why...?”
“Just trust me, Ginny.”
Ginny dropped it, not understanding why Hermione was persistent about it.
“So... who’re you going with?” Hermione asked, trying to engage in small talk so it wouldn’t feel so awkward.
“Dean.”
“I thought you two broke up last year.”
“Yeah, well it’s a one-time thing. Besides, like you said before, everyone dances with whoever else really, date or not. I’ll probably just be with him for one dance and that’s it.”
Hermione shrugged. She never thought about that. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal that the Head Girl might be going to her own ball alone. They sat in silence for awhile, and eventually some other girls joined them. They all chatted, Hermione listening mainly, until the bell rang, indicating dinner. The girls walked into the Great Hall and grouped together with Harry, Ron, Seamus, Neville and Dean.
“Oi Hermione, are you going to you’re that dance with someone?” Ron asked curiously as he started piling his plate. He sat directly across from Hermione.
“It’s a long story you shouldn’t ask about, apparently,” Ginny told him.
“Really?” Ron asked, looking at Hermione. “Care to explain?”
“Not really,” she replied bluntly as she started cutting some of her food.
Ron was taken aback. He looked at his sister and the look she gave him indicated he should drop it. He went back to stuffing his face with food.
As Hermione ate, she couldn’t help but miss the feeling of being watched. It seemed that feeling disappeared within the last week. She got it occasionally, but she found it wasn’t the person she was hoping it was. Most of the time, it was Harry. She got the feeling and looked up. She saw Harry looking at her curiously.
“What?” she snapped. She was getting sick of him watching her, always in that same curious look he gave her.
Harry looked back down at his food, eating a bit more of it again. She heard the voices around her chatting, but she didn’t input anything on her mind. When she was nearly done, she got that watched feeling. She sighed irritably and got up, leaving her plate half-eaten, leaving the Great Hall. She walked up two flights of stairs and went up to the painting of Sir Cadogan.
“Thou wish to duel?”
“Give it up, Cadogan!” she yelled.
“Verbal duel ye wish for?”
“NO DUEL!” she screamed, covering her ears.
Sir Cadogan sighed.
“Password?” he asked, imitating Hermione’s snippy voice.
Hermione’s cold glare steamed through the painting.
“Butterbeer.”
“Wrong.”
“Don’t make me go down to...”
“Password?” Sir Cadogan cut Hermione off, smirking.
“Butt-er-beer,” she said, pronounciating the syllables.
“It’s only fitting that the password is ‘masquerade’,” Sir Cadogan said as he opened the Heads’ common room door.
“Very funny indeed, change the password for the millionth time without a word and it’s only been a month and a bit,” she muttered as she walked in. She walked through the common room and up into her room after giving the password. She pulled out a piece of parchment and started writing.
Malfoy,
It’s been a week and we haven’t said anything. Honestly, I’m really sorry about what you saw, but that wasn’t my fault, I was just saying bye to Harry after he followed me to the door. I guess this is what we get for keeping our relationship secret (not blaming you about it, I’m just saying). I’ve been trying to tell you about what happened, but since you’re ignoring me verbally, I thought I may as well write this.
So I got out detention after your little cow of a friend got me into it, and I left, and Harry followed me. On the way up the stairs, we were talking, and he brought up the day Ron and I had a fight, and we had our own little spat about it once we stopped at the door leading to the common room. We got over the spat, and we were saying goodbye, and I gave him a quick (friendly) hug, but he took it a step further. Trust me, I had no idea he’d do that, I didn’t kiss him back.
I’m really sorry this all happened, but I miss having you around. Can we just forget about it ever happening?
Love,
Hermione
She bit her lip as she read over what she wrote, and she went back into the common room. Seeing it empty, she quietly walked up the stairs leading to Draco’s dormitory. A painting of a man sitting on a horse, grazing, stood in front of her.
“Is Draco Malfoy in there?” Hermione asked quietly.
The man looked up.
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Well I’m slipping this,” she held the paper up. “Under the door. Can you tell him that I left a note for him inside and that it’s on the floor?”
“What’s it for?”
“The note? It’s something between him and me I would rather prefer not to share.”
The man rolled his eyes.
“So tell him that when you see him, please.”
“Fine.”
Hermione bent down and slipped the paper underneath the door and ran back down the stairs. Seeing the common room still empty, she smiled. Going back up to her room, she decided to get a head start on homework so she wouldn’t have to worry about it after the ball on Sunday.
After another few hours, she noticed it was five minutes to 10pm and she finished her homework. Going down to the common room, she went to check the times for patrolling. She picked up the sheet and looked for the day October 29th.
“Fourth floor in five minutes,” a voice a bit behind Hermione said quietly.
Hermione placed the paper back down and slowly turned around to face Draco.
“Thanks,” she said. She was about to go upstairs to get her Head student robes on when she was stopped.
“‘A cow of a friend’, eh? Couldn’t have said it better.”
Hermione smiled. She kept going up the stairs and quickly changed in her room. She swiftly walked down the stairs and back into the common room. She noticed Draco waited close to the door, back turned to her and leaning on his shoulder against the wall, holding up a piece of paper.
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