Musical Moments

DON'T TELL ME IT'S LOVE

Lyrics : Marc Anthony
Characters : JK Rowling
Disclaimer : Not mine…neither song or characters.

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

We've been over this before
And I'm sensing you want more
I don't need someone who complicates me

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

Draco looked up as Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast. Despite her Gryffindor sweater and rather large book bag, he noticed that she looked rather cold. Of course, that was probably because she was rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

“I think she looks rather pensive.” Zabimi whispered.

“Huh? Who?” Draco turned his attention back to his pumpkin juice. “Have you ever wondered who discovered pumpkin juice? I mean, what, some bloke was just walking along one day and thought, ‘Hey, here’s a nice orange squash, let’s see what its juice would be like.’ Wonder if Dumbledore knows the guy who discovered pumpkin juice…they’ve got to be the same age. Ancient.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“Gee, Zabini, nothing escapes you.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Nope.” Blaise grinned knowingly. “Like how you don’t want to talk about her…or your moonlight romp.”

“I shouldn’t have told you about that.” Draco groaned.

“Nope.” Blaise admitted. “But you did, so now you have to live with my interfering ways.”

“Can’t you go interfere with some first years?”

“While I admit that they’re fun, I get much more satisfaction out of making you squirm.”

“I am not squirming!” Draco protested. To prove as much, he sat straighter at the table.

“So you kissed her. Why are you still staring at her?”

“I’m not staring her…per se.” Draco paused, racking his brain on a way to explain this. “I look at everyone who comes into the Great Hall.”

“Pansy just entered.”

“Uh huh.” Draco stared at his pumpkin juice.

“You didn’t look at her.” Blaise explained as patiently as if he was explaining it to a child. “Admit it. You want the Gryffindor Princess.”

“I kissed her. That’s enough.” Blue eyes glared.

“You want more than a kiss. You said as much.”

“Okay, fine.” Draco hissed. “I want her in my bed. That’s it. Nothing more. A simple romp, get her in my bed and out of my system. Nothing more, nothing less. How many times do I have to tell you?”

Blaise smirked.

“What’s that look for?” Malfoy’s eyes narroed.

“Nothing.” Blaise shrugged innocently. “I just have this feeling…you know…”

“No, I don’t.” Draco was adamant.

“I think you want more, but are too much of a Malfoy to admit it.”

“Admit what? That I want something substantial with a Gryffindor Mudblood?” Draco snorted. “See, she’s not suitable for me on two fronts right there.”

“Two negatives make a positive.” Blaise patted Draco’s back. “Gryffindor’s are loyal to those they care for…who wouldn’t want that?”

“And the Mudblood part? Where’s the good in that?” Malfoy’s tone was demanding.

“Simple. Let’s face facts, shall we, Draco, my friend?” Blaise leaned back and stretched. “The Purebloods will not remain pure for long. Our numbers are dwindling and we will need to accept freshness into our families. An infusion from some Muggles, especially magical ones, might be just what our bloodlines need.”

“Whatever. Don’t expect me to be the savior of the Purebloods.” Draco snarled.

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

And it's not that I don't care
But there's some things I can't share
Girl, I told you I'm not there

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

“We have another essay to write, Malfoy.” Hermione whispered as she added the root she had been dicing.

“Yeah, I can read the blackboard, Granger.” Draco hissed.

“Did you want to meet in the library again?”

Draco frowned. He couldn’t stand being near her and not being able to touch her. Even through his Slytherin torments of her. A couple of hours in the library would drive him certifiably mad.

“No. Why don’t you write the essay for us?”

Hermione looked up and blinked.

“Pardon me? I believe we have to work together to get the grade.”

“Snape’ll never know. You write it. I’ll sign my name at the top. End of essay and another top grade. Although, if I were you, don’t make it too good…I don’t want another reward like last time.”

“That wasn’t my idea of fun either, you know.” Hermione protested.

“So why did you wear the lacy knickers?”

“Why did you kiss me?”

Neville’s dicing hiccoughed for a moment.

((Why couldn’t we be working on a draught of deafness?)) The poor Gryffindor grimaced. ((lalalalalalalalala…can’t hear a thing…lalalalalalalala))

“Look, just write the bloody essay. I have plans this evening.” Draco said.

“Oh, meeting up with your fellow Slytherin goons to play at being Death Eaters?” Hermione’s brown eyes narrowed.

Draco managed to not flinch at the hatred in her voice.

“As a matter of fact,” He drawled out slowly, tugging on a loose strand of her hair. Draco watched Hermione fight the urge to pull back and silently gave her points for her courage. He leaned and whispered, “I’m meeting up with Pansy.”

“Both equally meaningless.” Hermione sniffed haughtily.

“Jealous, Princess?” Draco whispered. “I could ditch Parkinson and meet up with you instead.”

Hermione couldn’t help but take a step back. Draco’s eyes were literally glittering. It was almost hyptnotic.

Shaking her head as if to wake up, Hermione managed to say, “I can’t…I have an essay to write apparently. Have fun.”

Draco blinked.

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

Girl, the world's been down on me
I don't need someone to own me
Girl, a lover is all I need
I'm the one who needs to hold me

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

“You know that she’s slept with half the boys in Hogwarts.” Hermione mentioned idly, watching Draco stir their potion. It burbled quite happily at the attention.

((Lucky potion.)) Hermione thought.

“Only half?” Draco smirked. He looked over at Pansy who was holding her paring knife up to the Weasel in a threatening manner. “Look, if you start now, you might be able to get the remaining guys. You two could have a contest…see who can shag the most amount of guys by year end. I admit, Parkinson’s got a rather large head start on you, but with a little make-up and the occasional smile, you could catch up and give her a run for her money.”

Hermione gasped, outraged.

“You…you…insufferable, intolerant, rude…”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear.” Draco eyed Hermione, as if sizing her up. “Of course, perhaps to help you out a bit, I could have a go with you first. After all, if you get attention from the Slytherin Sex God, the other boys here will think you’re worth something.”

Hermione flushed red from anger. Her hands clenched.

“You will not have a ‘go’ at me, as you so eloquently phrased it. You will not touch me. You will not kiss me.” Hermione’s voice raised. “And you most certainly will not see my knickers again!”

Silence filled the Potions lab. Smirking Slytherins and shocked Gryffindors stared at the two top Potions students.

“Miss Granger. While I am certain that Mr. Malfoy is…disappointed…at no longer being able to view your unmentionables, I, for one, would appreciate not knowing about any relationship between a Gryffindor and one of my Slytherins.”

“We don’t have a relationship!” Draco and Hermione protested in unison.

A black eyebrow arched.

“Indeed. Then may I ask, Mr. Malfoy, why Miss Granger used the term ‘again’ in reference to you viewing her unmentionables?”

“She climbed a ladder in the Potions pantry.” Draco glared.

“And you could not find the manners to climb the ladder yourself?”

“I didn’t know…”

“Enough!” Snape roared. “Ten points from Slytherin for their lack of manners and thirty from Gryffindor for talking about their unmentionables and leaving that horrible image in my mind! Bottle your potions and get out of here.”

“But sir, we’re not d…” Hermione started. She stopped at Snape’s glare. “Right…bottling, then.”

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

Since I met you, I've been hearing the same thing
And it seems it's all we talk about lately
So before you go out on the limb
Don't tell me it's love
It's that look in your eyes that betrays me
And the things that you do to amaze me
Don't tell me it's so

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

Hermione looked over her book and saw a tapping booted foot. Following the black pants up ((my, but that’s a long leg!)) to a white shirt and green tie, her gaze finally came to rest on a smirking face.

“I thought you had a date with Pansy.” She managed not to make a face while saying it.

“I did. I did what I had to do. Figured hey, the night is young and I don’t think I want my grade to rest solely on your creative endeavours.” Draco smirked.

“Well, that was certainly fast." Hermione’s nose wrinkled in disgust. "Ugh, did you at least shower before coming here?"

Ignoring the barb, Draco leaned down and whispered in her ear, “How do I smell?”

Hermione couldn’t help but inhale, partially from the blatant invitation and partly from the shock. Oh, Merlin, he smelled good…very good…very, very good.

((Okay, brain, I get the idea…he smells good…I get it.))

Very, very, very good.

“You smell like a snake.” She whispered angrily. With her quill, she pointed at a piece of parchment. “That’s what I’ve written so far. Let me know what you think.”

Smiling, Draco grabbed the chair beside Hermione and began to read. A few moments later, Hermione looked up at him.

“Would you stop that, please?” She asked.

“What?” Draco’s voice was filled with false honesty.

“Humming. You’re humming. I can’t research for our paper while you’re humming.”

“I was humming? Really? What was I humming?”

“How should I know?” Hermione glared. “But you were humming and it’s distracting.”

“I’ve been told that I have a rather pleasant voice.”

“You do.” Hermione blinked. “I mean…”

Draco grinned and leaned closer.

“Anything else other than my voice that you find pleasant?”

“Go hex yourself, Malfoy.”

Draco sighed.

“I really do wish you’d use my name.”

“Aren’t you a Malfoy?”

“Of course!” His voice filled with familial pride.

“So I fail to see how I’m insulting you.”

“You fail to see so much.” Draco plucked Hermione’s quill from her hand and ran it along her chin and neck line.

“Oh, please…enlighten me.” Hermione’s sarcastic tone amused him.

“You know, Princess, I’ve learned that when you get sarcastic you’re hiding some pretty good emotions. Will you allow me to find out which ones you’re keeping from me right now?” Draco’s voice was practically purring.

“What?” Hermione pushed Draco away. “Just read the essay or leave. I don’t have time for your games.”

“What game?”

“This one. For Merlin’s sake, Malfoy, you just shagged Parkinson! Whatever gave you the idea that I would want to shag you now?”

“Ah, so you wanted to before?” He grinned as her glare deepened. “How about tomorrow? I think I have time tomorrow.”

“Oh, you’re impossible!” Grabbing her books and parchment and quills, Hermione stomped out of the library.

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

What I'm offering's what you see
I'm giving you my honesty
And I'm sorry if it hurts to hear the truth

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

“Ah, Miss Granger, so kind of you to join us this morning.” Snape’s voice grated on Hermione’s nerves. “It’s a good thing that you gave your essay to Mr. Malfoy to hand in. At least he was here on time. If it had been your responsibility to hand in the essay, I would have no choice but to dock marks and points, instead of the twenty I’m taking from Gryffindor for your tardiness.”

Hermione blinked.

“Essay? He handed in…”

“Yes, Miss Granger. Mr. Malfoy handed in your joint essay. Is there a problem?” Professor Snape’s face was neutral.

Hermione looked over at Malfoy, who gazed back with a rather bored expression on his face.

“Uh…no, sir…no problem.” Hermione slid in beside Draco.

“Save your gratitude for later, Granger.” Draco whispered.

“Gratitude? I stayed up all night writing the essay…”

“So did I.” He hissed. “But at least I had the good sense to arrive to class on time.”

“But I haven’t even seen it…or signed it.”

Draco grinned.

“You forged my signature?!?!” Disbelief crossed Hermione’s face. “You’re a…a…”

“Slytherin?” Draco’s grin widened. “Come on, Granger, are you surprised?”

Hermione exhaled in frustration.

“I’m surprised you had the energy to stay up all night after your evening activities with Parkinson.” She grated out through clenched teeth.

“What can I say? I have amazing fortitude.” Draco draped an arm over Hermione’s shoulders. He could feel her tense beneath him. “Care for your own first hand demonstration?”

He shushed her as he felt her gather her energy to blast him.

“Don’t want Snape to take more points from your house, do you? At this rate, you will be solely responsible for your house coming in last place.”

“What is wrong with you, Malfoy?” She whispered angrily as she copied down the potion they were to make that day.

“Wrong?”

“Yes, wrong. This…focus…of yours on me. It makes no sense.”

“Tell me about it.” He sighed. He decided to try a new tact…honesty. “I want you. It’s that simple.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in shock.

“You what?”

“Want you…in my bed, out of my system.” He leaned down, pale eyes shining. “Come on, Hermione. One night. You. Me. You’ll enjoy yourself. I’ll get what I apparently want. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

“That’s cold, Malfoy, even for you. I’ll pass thank you.” Hermione said cooly. “Besides, here’s a chance for me to make you suffer. Apparently there is one thing you can’t have and Daddy can’t buy it for you. Enjoy.”

Draco watched with disbelief on face as Hermione focused on their potion for the class.

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

And maybe I will find in time
That all along girl, you were right
That I should have made you mine

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

“She said no!” Draco groaned, lying back on his bed. “She bloody well said no!”

Blaise sat at the foot of the bed in silence.

Draco bolted upright.

“How could she say no?” He yelled. “I was giving her an honour!”

“If you say so.” Blaise shrugged.

“Say again?” Draco snarled.

“She’s a Gryffindor. There is no lesser honour for them than to shag a Slytherin…other than maybe the Dark Lord. But, hey, even we wouldn’t do that.” Blaise reasoned. “Face it, you’re just upset because a girl said no to you. You’ve never had someone say no to you.”

“Whatever.” Draco fell back into his pillows.

“Oh, that’s mature.” Blaise grabbed one of Draco’s feet.

“Hey!”

“Look, let me spell this out for you. I shall do so as slowly as possible even though it's killing me to repeat this. She’s a Gryffindor…she’ll only shag someone she trusts. She’s a Muggle…she wants romance. Put them together and what do you get?”

“Something that had better be worth all the work I’m about to put into this.” Draco mumbled.

“I can’t help with that part.” Blaise said.

“How does one plan for romance?” Draco asked, frowning. “Especially romancing a Mudblood.”

“Step one…stop calling her a Mudblood. It’s not very flattering.”

Draco grimaced.

“Step two…flowers.”

“What’s step three?”

“Let’s just see how steps one and two go first, shall we?” Blaise grinned.

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

But for now I still believe
That I don't need someone to own me
Just a lover is all I need
And someone who's gonna hold me

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

Blaise and Draco sat down to breakfast with smiles on their faces.

“What’s so funny?” Goyle asked. Crabbe looked up, chewing loudly on some bacon.

“Your face.” Draco replied instantly. Honestly, sometimes those two made things too easy.

“Oh, okay.”

Blaise rolled his eyes. Even with their combined intelligence, Goyle and Crabbe didn’t have enough active brain power to fuel even one Ravenclaw.

Draco watched as an owl grabbed the knut from Hermione’s fingers after passing over her copy of the Daily Prophet. He had spent a lot of time contacting the right people over the past few days and it was supposed to come together this morning.

Gasps sounded out around him and Draco looked up. Yes, right on time, as requested.

Owl after owl after owl dropped flowers on Hermione and her table. White roses, white daisies, white carnations, white violets, white lilies…pure white flowers, some with specks of other colours…but white was the overlying theme. Gasping in delight, Hermione tried smell each flower and give it the attention it was due. Harry plucked a carnation out of his scrambled eggs. Ron glared as a lily lay on his red head. Hermione just giggled as the Gryffindor girls ooh’ed and ahh’ed.

Finally, as the last owl departed, a majestic golden eagle swooped in. His powerful talons dropped the last surprise. A perfect red rose, upon which the morning’s dew still lay untouched. Tied with a piece of delicate golden thread was a rolled up piece of parchment.

Gently, Hermione unrolled the note.

‘I’m sorry.’

No name. No clue.

“Who’s it from, ‘Mione?” Ginny gushed.

Hermione looked up at Draco, across the room. He looked back impassively for a moment, before returning his attention to his breakfast.

“Hermione?” Lavender asked.

“Huh? What? Oh…no one.”

“She didn’t send them to herself.” Ron muttered.

Harry nodded, worry etched on his face.