Chapter 1
The magic wand falls out of the trembling palms, and the ringing clap from the collision of the vine with the marble makes the girl swallow dumbfounded. There's no one else in this corner of the library but them. And as Malfoy advances, her heart gets lost in a confused rhythm. Step two. He stops a couple of meters away, burning with mockery. With a look of defiance.
«Granger herself,» he mockingly freezes a couple of steps away. Waiting. And by the look of it, the Slytherin in his mind is betting on whether she will chicken out. The corners of his lips, raised in a grin, betray him. «You have to kiss me yourself.»
The thought flashes that she wanted to give her first kiss to Ron, and Hermione swallows.
Fifty kisses.
She takes a step forward.
Well
The countdown starts today. Now.
Shaking off the tremors from the tips of his fingers, Granger timidly touches the sharp cheekbone of a bored looking Malfoy. He draws it warily. She looks at his compressed lips and, trying to think through her further actions, gets lost. For a split second. Dozens of others have kissed those lips, and now hers will be added to the damn list.
The pause that had been given to her was already beginning to end.
And finally having made up her mind, she mixes their breath with a lightning movement. Leaving his confusion on Draco Malfoy's lips with the first careful movements.
Two days ago.
The stale air among these shelves has become familiar to her over the years.
Hermione could claim with diamond-like confidence that she knew the location of every book on them. But the fact that the folio she needed was not there was disconcerting, because the last thing she wanted to do later was admit to Harry that he was right, and she had arrived at Hogwarts three days earlier for nothing. It's not just curiosity. And the need to find out everything possible about the mark of the eaters. About that ink drawing, which, according to her friend, is firmly embedded in the skin of people who serve Voldemort.
It was dark behind the small library window, where she looked once an hour.
Another day wasted.
Slamming another useless book, she grabbed another one under her arm, full of irritation, rushed out of the library, hoping not to run into students like her who had arrived at Hogwarts earlier. Striding resolutely towards her room, Hermione suddenly froze after several corridors. Her eyes caught on a statuesque figure with too conspicuously styled silver hair, which the owner was now trying to hide as much as possible behind the hood of his robe. And anyway, the aristocratic pallor that stood out too much, the haughty cold look that brushed over her like a bug and hurried on. Hermione was interested in none other than Malfoy, walking towards the Quidditch field at… Hermione calculated the time in her head… at ten in the evening. It seemed that the Slytherin deliberately wanted to become inconspicuous, almost unnoticeable, he would need an invisibility cloak now. His back is slightly hunched, and his legs are in a hurry, although their owner, according to Hermione's guesses, almost successfully pretends that he is in absolutely no hurry. He pretends to go to the dungeons, and will be in bed within half an hour. Perhaps even Hermione was looking for suspicion where, in principle, it could not be. But an itchy premonition made her shadow him.
Leave the castle. Go through the Quidditch field.
And… enter the forbidden forest.
To her genuine show, much further ahead, where they were heading, there is a crowd of several dozen students. They were huddled around something that the girl could not immediately see, but at that moment she was least interested in the action, because every familiar face caused a feeling of nausea.
What's happening?
It took her a moment to notice that Malfoy had stopped and was also watching.
Hermione Granger couldn't believe her eyes.
The young wizards practiced combat magic, and she, as the best student in the school, would certainly have praised them for their perseverance in studying the practice, if it hadn't occurred to the girl that there were betting fights in front of her. The galleons that one student was fingering in the distance with a greedy smile were proof of that.
Damn it.
She stood, trying not to make a sound, ten paces from Draco Malfoy, and watched the Ravenclaw sending an Expelliarmus at the enemy. Behind the abrupt, almost deadly movement of a fellow student, who seemed to her to be a modest prefect during the day. The clink of coins was drowned out in the hum and screams. It's disgusting.
«For a C grade,» Granger was watching the next wave of her wand, trying to anticipate Cormac's next spell, when she heard Malfoy's grin. «That's what I'd give you for conspiracy theory, Granger.»
«And your skills haven't gone far from… threes either.»
A question flashed into her mind:
«Did he deliberately want me to follow him?»
Hermione was approaching the Slytherin, because she no longer needed to hide. She walked towards him, trying not to notice the autumn-like wet mess under her feet and with each step she saw more clearly the sharp grin that pricked her somewhere under the ribs.
«The bet is played!» a loud voice shouted over the noise, and behind Malfoy she saw the raised hand of this very «Judge», who announced the end of the fight, «Cormac has won!» As soon as she stopped, the hum began to subside. The young head of the Hufflepuff faculty, swallowing, suddenly exclaimed loudly, without having time to rearrange his vocal cords. Oh shit!
These words acted like Silencio, and the sounds of the night forest came to their rightful foreground.
«Macmillan, Granger doesn't look like a devil even with her tangled bun on her head.»
He smiled wryly, as if the comparison seemed too obvious to him. She can see from his eyes that Malfoy's thoughts are different from his words.
«Oh shit,» they repeated it in the crowd.
The whispers that began to appear cut through the silence. They clearly reflected the unflattering opinion of everyone here about her.
She will report everything to McGonagall.
A snitch.
We're wrapping up, guys.
Yes, it's closing time.
Bitch.
The sound of galleons.
«Come on, stop!» Malfoy growled, and the ringing steel in his voice made everything freeze again. «Since you're here, let's have a duel, Golden Girl.»
«It's against the rules, Malfoy,» Granger did not shy away, responding to his piercing, bone-crushing gaze.
If someone finds out about this lawlessness, it will be a nightmare. Madness. And if it comes out that she was also involved in this, then her reputation, built up over the years, will come to an end.
The look of defiance on the contrary did not allow her pride to retreat.
But he was too few to agree.
«From your mouth it sounds like this,» He winked playfully. «Inspiring, or something.»
She watched his fingers unfasten his robe, trying to find the words in her head to tell him to fuck off with this proposal, but for a split minute her rational side prevailed. She recently read that rationalizing each of her actions is a kind of psychological defense of a person. And now this was the case.
Those who saw her here today know for sure that she will report to the director.
Their distrust of her and a certain amount of burning hatred could be read in their eyes even in such darkness.
«On a wish, Granger,» Draco pulled off his robes and yawned ostentatiously. «It's too boring to spend money with you.»
He was egging. He was checking.
Her nails, digging into her palm, brought barely noticeable pain. There will be rumors about her weakness. Tomorrow, these observers of her momentary doubt will wash her bones in response to the challenge. Hermione was even afraid to think about how this would affect Harry and Ron. The duel club that they organized last year is not equal to fighting for fun and money.
Malfoy was admirably able to stump.
Watching her every facial movement like a wolf, her fellow students, who now clenched their jaws, also bet in their minds whether this little girl, who is called the smartest witch, would agree.
Now everyone thinks that Draco Malfoy's desire will be related to her silence about their innocent «Entertainment».
And these are not all the students who returned after the holidays.
Her rational part whispered that… she would need to find out who was hiding the magical background to these intruders? Why weren't they spotted? How do they even get into this «Fight Club»? Definitely, this shop should be closed before anyone gets hurt. And she doesn't care that the students who devour her with their eyes are against it.
Their whispers don't stop:
She's weak.
Granger is only capable of words.
This girl is so proud that she won't refuse.
Yes he will inflate it in no time!
Malfoy will make it dry.
For the first time, the smartest witch in her acted in a way that her rational part, on the contrary, did not want.
«On a wish,» Unclenching her fists, she saw the nail marks before loudly announcing to Malfoy, who was already waiting for her in the dueling circle. «I agree!»
«I had no doubt,» He chuckled, casually handing his robe to Macmillan.
Her advantage at the moment is to protect her authority. And then… the benefits may not always be obvious. Maybe she could get more information out of Malfoy if she wanted to. After all, this man, from whom she cannot take her eyes off, can definitely know something. As she approached the circle, she caught his already familiar movement as the guy began to roll up his shirt sleeves. But he suddenly checked himself. Putting them back in place, he undid the first two buttons instead.
She did not take off her robe herself, just slightly unbuttoned it.
They put their sticks in front of them, facing each other.
«Rules?» the girl clarified, raising an eyebrow.
«Without the unforgivable, darling» Her partner winked unexpectedly and cheerfully, grinning with the corner of a haughty smile. «We don't want to kill each other?»
Although the question is rhetorical, but despite the rules, Granger would love to wipe the enthusiasm from those lips. They turned around and, parting, stopped. Her pride, mixed with stubbornness, turned into a cocktail of calculating coldness. She will not be distracted by those few torches that illuminate the playground and play with light in Malfoy's silver hair, nor the smell of damp, almost autumn foliage mixed into a mess with patches of earth, nor the natural sounds of the forest that were heard along with whispers.
She peered into the gray, narrowed eyes opposite and, as if through a column of water, heard Macmillan's not so firm and confident as before:
«Have begun.»
Spark. A wand.
A wave.
A moment was enough for them.
«Stupefy!»
«Protego!»
Green and red beams of curses and shield charms charged the air with tension. They flew swiftly towards each other, overtaking, reflecting, exploding. Burning her face and hands with sparks.
«Confundus .»
She dodges, returning the beam:
«Expelliarmus.»
One blow from Malfoy had caught her left arm, and now it hung motionless at her side.
A cheering whistle from the side.
She knows for sure that he didn't escape the beam unscathed either.
Her.
«Conjunctivitis.»
He avoids and advances:
«Stupefy!»
«Protego,» they say in unison.
Farther. She's faster:
«Dertlim!»
Breath.
Exhale.
«Dirt?» He's having fun dodging the flash. «You're not being petty.»
His fingers tightened on the vine shaft. Granger, slipping slightly, threw away what she thought was the last one. But the exact:
«Stupefy.»
Petrify.
A sharp pain in her arm and knee pierced her. It was as if she was numb for a split second, which proved fatal in this duel.
«Protego. Everte Statum.»
End.
Hermione, doing a somersault, flies out of the circle, and everything gets mixed up in her head. The voice of Malfoy casting the spell, the whistling, the cheering of the crowd, their loud exclamation. And the cherry on the cake:
«The duel is over!» the scream of the headman of the Hufflepuff is frankly nauseating. She carefully lifts herself up and thanks herself for not taking off her robe earlier. «The winner is Draco Malfoy!»
Granger was already on her feet and wiping dirt from her palms on her robes when Malfoy approached. He hands her a magic wand that fell out during her enchanting flight and subsequent fall. He bites his lower lip in anticipation, and the girl herself cannot explain to herself why, taking her favorite shaft, she watches this movement of his while everyone is waiting for the show to continue. Everyone is counting the coins and rejoicing that they will not have to cancel the next meeting, for which they have probably already set a date.
«A wish».
Those gathered in anticipation of when Malfoy would grind her pride to powder with his desire.
But, to their surprise, he bends down to her ear, depriving the curious of information and gossip. Only now, opening her eyes in surprise, does Hermione not only realize how big their height difference is, but also that his whisper, burning her earlobe, betrays:
«You owe me until Christmas, Granger,» His fingers gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. «Fifty kisses.»
Fixing their agreement magically, he touches her palm and, when she nods dumbfoundedly, pulls away.
His gray irises burn her soul with cold and promise.
Damn you, Draco Malfoy.