Unrequited

Don\'t own any of it except the plot and even that is a different spin on an old idea. = \\
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The summer of my seventeenth year passed slower than fresh pressed molasses. I found that my usual activities of chasing the village girls and flying around on my broom were not enough to assuage me. I kept mostly to my room, staring at a picture that I\'d coerced that little Creevey whelpo gio giving me. It was a snap of the three of them over the Christmas hols. They were walking arm in arm in one of the corridors. The torches waved in the picture and they were laughing about something. Granger was in the middle of Weasel and Potty. Her head kept moving back and forth between the two of them. Just in the background I could make out my own face sneering at them before disappearing around a corner.

The story of my life at Hogwarts. I hate that school. I hate her. Yet I can\'t stop staring at her face. I think I\'m becoming obsessed. Maybe obsession isn\'t such a bad thing after all.

I went back to that wretched place just when the leaves turned from green to yellow and the first of the apple harvest was coming in. She, Weasel and She-Weasel sat with Pansy and I in the prefects\' car. That was the longest train ride of my life. Pansy kept making uncouth remarks and she finally drove Bedhead and the two Flaming Matchsticksy. Iy. I wanted to strangle Pansy when she did that. Instead I feigned sleep. All the way from London to Hogsmeade. Nearly 400 kilometres I pretended. Fortunately, Pansy wasn\'t the sharpest pencil in the box and left me alone. To my utter surprise she pulled out a book and began to read. Granted, it was only a comic book, but I was astonished to find that she was actually literate. For a while there I\'d begun to wonder.

The whistle sounded finally and Pansy shook me \"awake\". Gods, I should win an award for that inspired bit of acting. Hagrid, that oaf, came to usher us all into the carriages. I could finally see what Potter was having kittens about when I saw the thestrals hitched to the axles. Many more survivors of that last battle were pointing and staring, too. Most of us had lost our innocence that fateful day.

I saw Granger and the rest get into a carriage. I as always was pulled along with Millicent, Pansy and Goyle. Crabbe had fallen along with his unfortunate father last winter. I lamented the loss of my other bookend, but did not mourn overly. It was, after all, natural selection. You must weed out the weaklings to ensure the survival of the race. I cast another look at Weasel. Now there\'s a kitten that should\'ve been drowned at birth.

Our first night passed uneventfully. The next day however, brought a welter of unexpected news. We were paired with partners for patrol. That dunce of a headmaster, DumbandDumberdore, decided it would be to our benefit to try to foster inter-house relations. To that end, he insisted that we mix houses when we patrol. He stuck Granger and I together.

Wonderful. Two hours of sheer torture.

I saw her cast a disparaging glance my way before putting on that brave little soldier front I despised. Oh no, too late little lion. I saw that you had feelings for me after all. Even if they are of the negative sort. You know what they say about hate being the flipside of the coin. Perhaps...

I take back what I said about it being two hours of torture. Make that *excruciating* torture.

That night, Granger and I were the first up to patrol. She spoke maybe two words to me. She suggested we split up and then headed off her own way. Fine, bitch. Be that way. But I couldn\'t have stopped myself from creeping along behind her, following her if I had tried. And believe me, I did try.

I her her small shadow flickering along the stones of the walls. The flames rendered her rather faerie like form to more like that of a goblin - short and squat. There was nothing out of the ordinary about her nor about her patrol. She went about her duties in an efficient, economical manner until the two hours were up. I remember that I was supposed to meet her back in the first floor hallwnd tnd there was no way I was going to beat her back without her seeing me. Damn.

I went along behind her, managing to keep a respectable distance behind when I saw her stop dead in her tracks. The love of her life, the eminently respectable Ronald Arthur Weasley, was currently giving a hickey to Padma Patil. Hell, if I hadn\'t shagged her rotten back in fifth year, I\'d go for her, too. When Granger recovered her voice, it rose to hitherto unknown decibels. I\'d actually forgotten she had a voice, since she hardly ever spoke to me directly.

\"What the FUCK is going on here??\" she screeched. Weasel and Patil looked up from their clandestine activity with horror.

\"Hermione, now, it\'s not what it looks like.\" Uh-oh, Rodent. Wrong way to go about it. Then again, no one ever said you were a genius.

Hermione\'s face went from flabbergasted outrage to chilly anger. \"And, pray tell, what *is* it, since I\'ve apparently gone blind and stupid in one fell swoop.\" She crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him with are fre full of attitude.

\"Look...I-uh-I.\" Weasel stammered trying to squirm out of it.

\"Forget it Ron. I am so done. And to think that I took you back after what you did this summer!\" She shook her head ruefully. \"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Pathetic.\" Hermione turned to stomp back down the hall and I shrunk back, trying to outpace her.

Unfortunately, that didn\'t happen.

She picked up the pace without me realizing and ran straight into my back.

\"Damn, Granger, if I knew you were going to start throwing yourself at me, I\'d have stopped running a long time ago.\" I gave her the patented smirk as I got up from the floor.

\"Bugger off, Malfoy. I haven\'t the time to deal with your being an arsehole tonight.\" She turned away to escape toward the staircase and then I did it. I decided to be an utter prick, yet again.

\"Is it because of Weasley and Padma down there? I suppose he figured he could do better.\"

She turned back to me with fire in her eyes. I heard, rather than saw, the smack that landed square on my impossibly high cheekbone.

\"What would *you* know about it? I\'m sick and tired to death of your ill-informed comments about me being Muggle-born. Like you sneering Purebloods are all that better. More like inbred to me. You know what happens when you keep dipping into the same gene pool? The offspring become complete and utter morons. That is obviously what happened to you. And another thing...\"

Her tirade became nothing but so much indistinguishable ranting. I tuned her out but her mouth kept moving. Her impossible, bossy, pouty little mouth. God, I wish she\'d shut up. She\'s giving me a headache. I stared at a point above her head and yet she was still going on and on. There was only one way I could see of shutting her up aside from hitting her in the mouth.

So I kissed her.

I\'d have been better off hitting her.

Her squeak of surprise was muffled under my lips. I had her by the shoulders so that she couldn\'t hit me anymore. Her mouth was firm and then gave way to acquiesence. Granger stopped struggling against me and sank into the kiss. That was very very *very* surprising. But then again, the poor girl had only had Krum and Weasley, so how could she help herself? And then the inevitable happened.

She kicked me right in the knee. Must have been the tongue that did it.

\"You little...\" I hissed out through the aching of my abused knee. \"You\'re going to pay for that.\"

\"Ha. I\'d like to see you try to collect, Malfoy.\" And with that she swished away.

But I will collect, little lion. You may depend upon it.