The Snake And The Lion

And as abruptly as they had begun, the dreams stopped. After her late night meeting with Malfoy, Hermione returned to her bed, and fell into a dreamless sleep, the first dreamless sleep, in fact, that she had had in months. It seemed as if their contact had appeased some part of her mind, and she was finally left in peace.

If you could call it peace at all. While her nights were quiet and uneventful, the days were torturous. He was constantly on her mind, no matter how many times she brushed the thoughts away in disgust, he appeared again. Hermione was determined to ignore him at all costs.

That was, at least, until she realized he was ignoring her. Every time she snuck a glance in his direction, whether it was in the Great Hall over breakfast, across the room in potions, or even passing in the halls, he was always looking in the other direction.

The frustration was building, but Hermione promised herself that under no circumstances would she ever go back.

***

Hermione was late for Ancient Runes. Again. Every single day she suffered through an hour of Divination, almost falling asleep right there on the desk, before being let out of class a good ten minutes late. Her feet clacked against the spiral stairs as she rushed down the steps, hair flying wildly out behind her as she struggled to hitch her bag over her shoulder.

Just as she rounded the corner, Hermione collided with something exceedingly hard and unyielding. Someone had been standing there. The offender turned to walk away, not sparing her so much as a glance, let alone an apology. She turned her head from where she was crouched on the floor, gathering her books.

“Hey! Thanks a lot for all the— help…” The last word died on her tongue as she watched that blond head of hair round the corner and disappear out of sight. She sat there, staring at that corner, puzzling at his actions for at least five minutes. She was going to be very late for Ancient Runes.

And somehow she didn’t care. Hermione was starting to wonder whether or not her midnight meeting with Malfoy had occurred at all, or if it was simply another one of her perverse dreams.

If it was, she found herself thinking, than I’m disappointed that the dreams have stopped. Hermione shook her head. What was she thinking? This was Malfoy she was thinking about, that insufferable, annoying, smug, infuriatingly gorgeous boy. Oh Merlin. She must have hit her head when she fell. Hitching her bag over her shoulder once more, she hurried off to Ancient Runes.

Draco watched from the shadows as she hurried down the hallway past him. He wondered why exactly she had sat there for so long, what she had been thinking about. That girl was quite a mystery to him. No matter, she would come back to him. He knew that, if nothing else.

***

She had a habit of making pros and cons lists. She always had. They helped, most of the time. And on the matter of Draco Malfoy, Hermione knew she needed one. So after a torturously long Ancient Runes class, she sat down in the library, laid out a piece of parchment and began to write.

Harry and Ron were ‘working’ a few aisles over, but this was private. Hermione needed to be alone.

After nearly an hour, she had drawn up a list. It was complete, yet highly unsatisfactory. How could the list be nearly entirely cons when Hermione wanted nothing more than to head down to the Slytherin common room immediately and throw herself at him?

Maybe that was the problem. She was being so… irrational. This gave Hermione pause. She was Hermione Granger, for Merlin’s sake. She was NOT irrational. It was in this mental predicament that Ron found her.

“Hermione! There you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” His eyes moved to the paper she was holding. “What’s that Hermione?”
Before she could protest, his quick hands grabbed at it, and moments later he was prancing around the room, narrowly avoiding her grasp as she struggled to get the paper back.

“RONALD! Give that back to me right now.” Her protests fell on deaf ears. He raised the paper up in front of him, reading it even as he jumped again and again away from her.

His eyes scanned the paper, and suddenly he drew very still. Thank Merlin she hadn’t written any names on the paper. “Love troubles, eh Hermione?” The disappointment in Ron’s voice was palpable. The situation turned immediately uncomfortable.

“Uh… Of course not… Of course I’m not, Ron. It’s for uh… my Muggle Studies course.” Hermione attempted an uncomfortable laugh. “He gives me all sorts of batty assignments.”

Ron looked skeptical. He handed the paper back to her, mumbling something about getting back to work. As if he ever worked. He headed back out into the aisle, walking away quickly, leaving Hermione alone again. She sat back down, whipping out her quill and desperately seeking more pros for her list.

It seemed like forever, but it could only have been moments later, that Harry came alone, back from the direction in which Ron had headed. He caught site of Hermione and stopped for a minute, leaning on the bookcase next to her. His green eyes sparkled with amusement.

“What?” Hermione snapped. She was not in the mood for this.

“Nothing.” Harry replied, a grin spreading across his face. “Congrats on the boyfriend Hermione. Ron told me.” With one last smile he turned and headed down the hall, prompting Hermione to scream after him.

“I do NOT have a boyfriend!” She turned back around to see Malfoy standing where Harry had been. He was facing straight ahead, away from Hermione. It was clear that he was debating whether to comment or not.

“Thank you for sharing, Granger.” He was still facing straight ahead. He began to walk away, taking two steps before stopping. He turned his head, making eye contact for the first time in days, those dark gray eyes drinking her in. That’s a pro, she found herself thinking.

“And Granger?”

“Yes?” She replied breathlessly. Since when had he had this effect on her? A smile spread across his face, and she felt herself smiling back. Finally, he was talking to her again.

“You’re supposed to be quiet in a library.” And with that he turned and walked away. Her smile disintegrated. She had left herself so vulnerable to his attack. It wouldn’t happen again. Turning, she took up her list again. Casting her quill aside, she ripped the parchment to pieces and let them fly out of the open window.

It was best, she decided, if she simply ignored the fact that her knickers were soaked.

***

Her sleep was fitful that night, and excruciatingly dreamless. Each time she awoke, the skin on her hand, where he had kissed her, seemed to sting. Much in the same way that his words had stung her that afternoon.

She would not go back. Hermione promised herself this as she fell into yet another restless sleep.

A/N: Thank you to those people who reviewed. :) I really appreciate the reviews.