Serenity Abandoned, Passion Ignited

Disclaimer: I don’t own… -sniff- almost makes me cry every time I say it! :(

Sorry for the really long wait, guys… I hit so many pot-holes on this friggin’ chapter that I think I got a little lost in one.. haha. Thank you for your patience, though :)
OH… and there’s a bit of fluff. So.. drink it if you’ve got it (except for the Rum in which Miss Swann has caught on fire. Damn her and her pyrophelia. Bwahah. I love PotC!), flaunt it around as if you’ve got it and sigh wistfully, wishing you had it.


Shout-outs:
Kinnara: Yeah, it does seem like Romeo + Juliet a lot, doesn’t it? :D

Kayla: thanks for your help on this chapter! (Gotta love the Baha Men! Lol)

RACHEL! WOOT, WOOT! Lol. Look at that… my Beta reviewed… how great is that?! It’s incredibly great. :) And I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do with Sevvy-kins… but I shall inform you when I make up my mind. Or maybe I should just bug you by asking what I should do and then list all my choices. Hahaha….. I can just see the fearful look on your face, knowing that I full well will do it, too. :P –cackle- -choke- -cough- -cough-

Dangerous Vixen: wow! Another shout-out! Whee! I’m glad that it was believe-able.. that’s what I strive for. I know he was ooc… I apologize about that.. I sort of need him to be. But I guess that’s where creative licensing comes in… :)

Eddie! (Does that not sound like Rocky Horror or what?) I’m so glad that you reviewed for me again! :D Perhaps your nose is picking up on some subtle scents that only my beta (RACH! Woot!) and I know about… hahaha. I loved the bubbles… my most favorite part. Well, that, and the fact that Draco was in the bath almost set me off to have a little bit of a pwp chapter. Lol.

And now… for the Fifth chapter! Woo hoo!

OH! Right… well, my story basically takes off after the fifth book… and I don’t plan on changing it to accommodate what happened in HBP… -shakes fist at JK-

.-.-.

Draco was repaid for laughing at her by a towel in the face and a yelling from Hermione (“Get back to your bed on your own, jackass!”) followed by a slamming of the door into her room.

He had made it to his bed just fine, but didn’t look forward to sleeping, sensing another nightmare was going to plague him and decided to stay up a while longer. Making his way to the bay window in the corner of the room, he sat down with a moan and finished pulling down the tank-top that he had changed into. He leaned his back into the wall and sighed at the nice change of it’s hardness from the fluff of the pillows.

Another smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he pulled a silken cushion onto his lap and he fingered the frazzled hem of it as his eyes wandered over the grounds; from the very top of the bared boughs of the forbidden forest’s tops that were just barely being peaked by the waning crescent moon, reflecting enough light to scarcely light the Earth, to the windowsill that he was sitting by, letting his thoughts take over his senses for the rest of the night.

.-.-.

“Miss Granger, stay behind please. Class dismissed.” Professor Snape’s voice echoed through the cavernous classroom seconds before a ding of a bell and the Gryffindors with the Hufflepuffs shuffled their way out of the door.

Hermione looked up from putting her book in her bag, first looking at Snape sitting quite rigidly at his desk, scribbling something down on a small piece of parchment, the scratching harsh with his slanted writing, before looking over her shoulder at Harry and Ron who were looking like they were going to stay with her.

“I said Miss Granger. I don’t recall mentioning the words ‘Potter’ and ‘Weasley’. You are dismissed.” He pressed, folding the parchment with preciseness that only years of training could do. She turned back to them and nodded.

“Go on.” They left, obviously apprehensive. With the closing of the door, Snape placed the folded parchment towards the edge of his desk that was closest to her and laced his fingers, folding them on the deep chestnut color of his desk.

Hermione picked up the parchment and stashed it in her robes, gathering that it was for Draco and not for her to read. She waited for him to speak and he did so unhurriedly.

“I was wondering if there were anymore disruptions later on last night after I left.” He brushed off his sleeve that was void of anything on it, and Hermione shook her head.

“Good. Now that note is to Draco and I will require a response back. You’re dismissed.” He stood and for a briefest of a second, their eyes connected. Gasping, she looked away and turned, exiting the classroom.

“Well? What’d the git want?” Ron asked as the door closed behind her and she jumped, hand going to her chest, her breath being caught there.

“Ron! Merlin! You should know better than to sneak up on someone like that!” she scorned him and let her hand drop to her side, only to be picked up by Harry’s.

“Spill it!” Ron told her and she looked at him quizzically as they began their ascendant to the first floor of the castle.

“What’re you talking about?” she asked, forgetting that Ron had actually asked a question when he had scared her.

Harry cut in, “Why’d Snape wanna see you?” he asked and she sighed, adjusting the strap of her bag that was digging into her shoulder from the heaviness of her books.

She didn’t want to lie to them, they were her best friends, but she didn’t want them to know about Drac-Malfoy’s she ridiculed herself – of his vulnerability and shook her head, deciding that It was for the best, “Oh, he just wanted to tell me that my duties as Head Girl are,” she dropped her voice an octave, “’more important now that the Head Boy has fallen sick.’” She rolled her eyes afterward and the boys howled with laughter at her impression. Watching them laugh, she guessed that she was better at lying than she thought she was.

After they had considerable stitches in their sides from the laughter and were done wiping the tears away from their faces, they stopped at the Transfiguration classroom and Harry turned to her, leaving Ron to enter the classroom alone.

“I have an open period after this one, so I’ll see you then?” he asked and she nodded, smiling.

“Of course.” He smiled back and leaned forward, his hand coming to cup her face again, bending down to place a soft kiss on her lips, breaking apart just enough to smile and kiss her again, separating from her with a favorable amount of cerise within his cheeks as a slight cough from Professor McGonagall told him that they weren’t alone. His hand dropped from her face to her open hand as he turned to face his teacher.

“I wasn’t aware that the lesson that I had planned today was to do with kissing, Mister Potter,” She looked at both of them with a critical eye and if possible, Harry’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of crimson, “Well, come on, don’t just stand there; I would love to still be young by the end of the lesson.”

Harry turned and smiled softly at Hermione before letting go of her hand and she about-faced, walking away from the classroom.

Climbing the staircase that led to the immense hallway where the Head’s Quarters were located, she smiled as her fingertips came up to brush across her lips, thinking of the electricity that she felt when she had kissed him. She was suddenly glad that she had agreed to date him… if all kisses were like that, no wonder people were always happy when they were snogging.

Seeing that she was in front of the moving painting, she paid no attention to the seniors that were no longer playing chess but rather changing numerous animals into funny shapes, their breathless laughs stopping shortly to listen to her as she murmured the password and disappeared into the common room, heaving she set her bag down on a plush sofa and headed towards the kitchen.

Hermione let her jaw, once again, hang slack as she stared at the magnificent kitchen. It was complete with a large stove and refrigerator, and in the corner, she saw a tiny, almost mouse-like door that was no doubt, for the house elves.

Walking forward, she noticed that the counters were, like the staircases, made of white marble and she shook her head, awestricken once again.

“Oh, you’re back?” Draco’s voice interrupted her journey in discovering the kitchen and she turned to look at him, of who was leaning against the door frame heavily.

“Yes, and you should be in bed, getting better.” She said, disagreeing to his presence.

He shrugged her off, walking stiffly to one of the barstools that surrounded the island that set off to the side of the kitchen, “I have been sleeping and I’m tired of it.” Draco looked at her up, through his lashes and ends of his hair, smiling softly as he sat down.

She smiled back at his dry humor and shook her head, “Well, what do you want to eat?” she asked and he shrugged again, “You want a shrug to eat? Okay then…” she made to come towards him as her hand reached inside her robes for her wand and he placed his hands in front of him in a defensive pose.

“Hey now… that shrug meant that I didn’t know, not that I wanted to eat it.” He replied and she laughed, shaking her head at him and walked to the fridge and gasped as she opened it; there were already meals prearranged for them to eat. A slight humming came from the corner and both turned to look.

Dobby could be seen, carrying far too much for him to carry, but seemed to be doing fine. He let out a slight, “Eep,” upon seeing his old master and Draco’s head tilted.

“Dobby? ‘S that you?” he asked and Dobby bowed.

“Yes, sir, ‘tis Dobby, sir. Dobby didn’t know Harry Potter’s best friend, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter’s enemy, Dobby’s old master, was here, no, he didn’t!” he squeaked out, looking quite fearful.

“Oh, that’s okay Dobby.” Hermione said hastily, pointing to the numerous hats that adorned his head, “I see you’re still wearing my S.P.E.W. hats.”

He positively beamed at Hermione, bowing, “Yes, Miss Hermione Granger! Dobby keeps them to himself, he does. Doesn’t let all the other house elves touch them. They’s Dobby’s.”

She smiled warmly back at him, finally catching the strange way that Draco was looking at him and watched.

“You. Work here now?” he asked, blinking rapidly.

“Yes, Master Malfoy, sir. Three years now.” The elf bowed slightly again. Draco looked from Dobby to Hermione and he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I would love to know why you’re staring at me, Granger.” He told her, repeating her own words and she glared.

“You used to enslave Dobby?” she asked, her tone low, warning him as she took a step towards him, leaving Dobby’s eyes to flicker between looking at one or the other as he quietly shut the fridge’s door.

“Yeah? So?” he asked with a shrug and watched as her face resembled a plum ripening. She steadily came toward him, reminding him vaguely of a lioness stalking prey in the Savannah. Well, if that were the case – he was the prey. Gulp.

She placed her hands, palm down, on the counter across from him and her eyes, now narrowed and the green of the hazel flaring wildly, stared him down.

Having a hunch of how she would react, he stared back, his demeanor calm and collected and he blinked lazily at her, seemingly unaware of her anger. He took in another breath as he blinked and let his eyebrow quirk up as a side of his mouth also did, creating the villainous smirk that he was known for.

Hermione watched him and gave him the worst ‘eat-shit-and-die’ look she could muster and let one hand pull out the letter from Snape. Chucking it at him, she stood up quietly and turned her back to him, finding that in the midst of their silent war that Dobby had done what he had came to do and left quietly.

Opening the refrigerator again, she pulled out the closest thing and growled an, “asshole” a she sent another glare Draco’s way before leaving through the door, making sure to slam it behind her as she collapsed on the sofa that she had dropped her book bag on before and went to work.

.-.-.

Draco sighed as she left, sending a look to the door that had slammed just moments before and plucked up the paper that she had thrown at him, unfolding it and scanning over the scribble longhand handwriting that was unmistakably Snape’s.

Checking the watch that resided on his left wrist, he let his back bend as he collapsed onto the countertop. Ten minutes. That’s all I have. Ten measly minutes to get ready for Snape’s lessons… Shitfire.

Taking in a rather large breath, he let it out slowly, watching as the moisture made a patch of fog on the cool countertop. Coming up to straight-spine again, he winced and rubbed a hand over his lower back and stood up, walking much like one would after riding a horse for the first time and after a long-period.

He forgot hunger and moved to sit on the couch next to Hermione to find her surrounded by her books. Taking up a few books in his hands, Draco sat and she glanced up at him, green flashing warningly in her eyes over her parchment and he realized it was the same parchment that she was correcting the night before.

“Sooo,” he started, looking down at the first book, “Le Fantôme de l\'opéra?” he asked, his voice rich in knowing French and her eyes rose from above the paper before flickering between the book’s cover and him. She hummed in reply, disappearing behind the paper once again and looked as if she wasn’t going to give him any insight to why she had a Muggle-authored book.

Finally, she spoke after a series of scratches, “For Muggle-Studies. Explain why there were changes made from the book to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s movie. Also explain why Christine made her certain choice in the end. Two feet of parchment by Wednesday.”

Draco would have coughed on his drink, if he were drinking something, “By Wednesday? But that’s two days away!” he told her and opened the cover, suddenly glad with himself for not signing up for Muggle-Studies.

She hummed from behind her parchment again and continued down it, letting the top fall to her lap, showing her distraught expression. She groaned and went to reach for the book to find that it was no longer there. Looking up at Draco’s face, it was blocked by the book’s cover.

“What are you doing?” she asked and he lowered the book, placing a fingertip where he had stopped.

“I’m reading what does it look like? That I’m dancing around in pink tutu with gravity-defying hair?” He pointed to his hair and she smiled dryly and quirked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know… that kind of sounds like you in second year…” his face dropped serious and she let out a bark of a laugh and took the book back, sticking a finger where he was and flipping to the back of the book, where she needed the scrap of important information.

Letting the book flip back to the third page, she handed it back and went back to her essay, aware that Draco was barely reading the book at all, but rather watching her.

“What?” she asked before looking up from her paper and he gave her a surprised expression, “I could tell that you weren’t reading; the pages weren’t turning…”

“That’s because this book is bloody boring. Nothing ever happens.” He told her, poking a finger against the cover, a look of disgust upon his face as he looked down his nose at it.

“Well, of course things happen in it,” she rolled her eyes for good measure, “Then it wouldn’t be a story. It’s a tale of romance, murder, jealousy, love, music, passion, rage...” She said avidly, forgetting her essay.

“Murder? Rage?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She nodded her head and pointed a finger down at the book.

“You should read it. It’s really good.” she went back to her essay and Draco flipped a few pages, began to read, and flipped forward a bit more and read.

He sighed, “But… nothing’s happening!” she put the parchment down onto her lap again.

“Draco, if you insist on whining, make someone else listen to it. I bet Pansy would love to hear it. I, on the other hand, am trying to complete-”

Unable to listen to her banter, he cut her off, “Granger, really… if you insist on whining, make someone else listen to it, pet.” She glared at him for again, pushing her words back in her face, “Besides, you work too God-damned much. Take a break. That’s what these free periods are for, you know.”

She shook her head at him and went back to her essay, “You’re crazy.” She told him confidently and he sighed, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling that looked rather inviting to look at with its golden drops of sunlight framing the bunny-tailed cotton clouds.

Breaking his thoughts about what one of the clouds was taking shape of; he looked at her and suddenly ripped the parchment out of her hands, tucking it and its enormously long tail behind him.

“What in Pete’s sake do you think you’re doing?!” she asked, her voice now raised well above an octave and screeching at him.

He tilted his head and looked at her quizzically, “You know, Granger, I never thought I would see the day when I could hear the equivalent sound of a banshee mating call from human chords. Thanks much, luv.”

For the second time, she ignored the semblance of affection in the nicknames and reached forward, trying to get her fingers at least a hair’s breath away from her essay. Unsuccessful, she resolved to glare at him as intensely as she could; mentally hoping she could burn a hole right through that pretty little blonde head of his. She paid no mind to the fact that she had called his head pretty… she couldn’t deny that he was attractive, but then again there was no point to denying the truth.

He made that tsk, tsk sound with his tongue and settled into the sofa, crushing her essay and she glared at him powerfully again.

Grinning he crushed her essay into the back of the sofa more, “Now… seeing as how you’re not doing anything, I would love to know why you’re so in love with this book.” He raised the book up to let his eyes wash over the lettering and then back to her face. A face that didn’t look very happy.

She crossed her arms across her chest and stared at him, “I never said I was in love with it. I merely said it was good.” She argued and he rolled his eyes heavenward again.

“Oh, quit stalling and just tell me about the damned book!”

She sighed and began, “Well, since it failed to grab your attention when you’re three pages in, I’ll tell you the movie version.”

He watched her, waiting patiently. “Well, it starts out in the burnt Opera Populaire, in the year 1919,” she began and continued on, watching with entertainment as Draco seemed genuinely interested.

“I never did care for that ending. I prefer the book, though.” Snape’s voice came from the entrance painting and both turned to see him, his hands tucked neatly up to the webbing of his thumb in his vest’s pockets, after she had finished the story. “No doubt for Muggle Studies, am I correct?”

The question was rhetorical, but she nodded nevertheless. His attention strayed from her to the sour face of Draco, “I trust you received my letter, Draco?” he asked coolly.

Draco bowed his head in agreement and Snape clasped his hands behind his back, underneath his cloak. “Miss Granger, if you would please excuse us, Draco and I have an appointment for the starting of Occulmency.”

She nodded mutely and stood, gathering her books and placing them inside her book bag and Draco reached back, taking her essay and made a face at the crumples he had placed into the paper. “Erm…” he began and was cut off by her.

“No, it’s okay… I can flatten it.” She took the paper hurriedly and left quickly, feeling both sets of eyes on her back as she climbed the stairs two at a time.


-.-.-

Dear god that was incredibly hard to write. I hope it’s satisfactory to everyone :)

Remember, I love reviews and will love you if you review.