Dramione Spellbound

"How could you, Hermione?"

"You danced with Malfoy!"

"He forced her!"

"He put her under the Imperius!"

"Did you take any drinks from him, Hermione?"

Her friends had crowded around her, their faces showing shock and betrayal. She could understand it—just a week ago, she would've reacted the same way.

"She's not saying anything."

"She looks pale."

"Sit down, Hermione, that must've been rough."

Hermione snorted in response.

"Nothing like that—we just danced. We're partners in Divination."

Everyone gave her a skeptical look, and whispers resumed:

"He's in with that shady guy from Durmstrang!"

"He's a Death Eater!"

"He's not a Death Eater," Luna's soft, steady voice effortlessly cut through the rising noise.

"He took the Mark!"

"He killed Dumbledore!"

"Malfoy didn't kill Dumbledore!" Hermione burst out. "He didn't kill anyone!"

"That you know of…"

"How did he even get in here?"

"I invited him," Luna said, smiling at the Gryffindors surrounding Hermione. The rest of the guests had formed an outer circle, feverishly scribbling on scraps of parchment.

"Draco was very kind to me," Luna continued. "He promised to search for my wand in the Malfoy dungeons when he goes home for the holidays."

Hermione stared at her along with everyone else. She hadn't known Luna was speaking to Malfoy.

"That's very sweet, Luna," Neville said cautiously, "but Malfoy's a Slytherin, and he's probably using both you and Hermione."

"Maybe we'd know better," Hermione said, trying to remain calm like Luna. "It was just a friendly dance."

Parvati Patil snorted.

"Friendly. It looked like something… more than friendly."

The murmurs around Hermione grew louder:

"Did you see his face?"

"He actually looked like a normal person!"

"No way!"

"He almost smiled!"

"Get out!"

"Where's Justin?" asked Ernie Macmillan, joining the group. "He should've stepped in."

"You're kidding, right?" said Parvati. "Justin couldn't even walk straight."

"I've never seen him so drunk!"

"He tried to hit on me!"

"No way!"

"Hermione, you really should stay away from Malfoy and—"

"Draco has a very interesting wand," Luna suddenly interjected, as if it were completely on-topic. Sometimes Hermione felt like Luna had a time-turner in her pocket that moved her twelve seconds ahead in any conversation.

"Dogwood is extremely picky," the Ravenclaw continued. "It won't serve just anyone."

"Luna," Neville said patiently, "we're glad Malfoy's wand likes him, but that's not exactly a glowing endorsement…"

"So that's why his wand danced for those first-year snakelets?" Parvati cut in.

Neville frowned.

"Malfoy's wand danced?"

Parvati nodded.

"And it turned a yellow quill into a pygmy puff. Padma told me."

Immediately, the room burst into chatter again:

"It's a setup! He's trying to infiltrate…"

"He wants to catch us off guard! Ginny always said—"

"Hermione, are you feeling dizzy? …Hermione?"

"Where did she go?"

"Malfoy kidnapped her!"

While the others were still tossing around theories, Hermione managed to slip away, ducking behind a group of Ravenclaws too absorbed in their notes to notice. She darted into the Transfiguration Hall in search of Justin—and heard a familiar voice:

"…And don't you dare come back!"

The small room was crowded, but Hermione pushed her way to the far side just in time to hear a girl's voice:

"Draco, I know you don't want—"

"How would you know what I want?" Malfoy's voice came from behind a tapestry. "Did you like what that pompous wanker was saying to you?"

Hermione pushed aside the tapestry, revealing a private reading nook. Malfoy stood with his back to her, turned slightly enough for her to see his hand in black—he was holding a delicate, blonde witch by the waist.

"If you're so eager to suck someone off," Malfoy said darkly, "then pick a Death Eater's cock instead of…"

— Draco! the girl exclaimed.

Hermione flinched, letting out a small involuntary gasp. Malfoy abruptly released the witch and turned around. His face flushed bright red.

That familiar blush. Merlin, everything about this was so familiar—the low voice, the tinge of pink on his cheeks, platinum strands falling loose from their slicked-back style to rest against dark eyebrows. She knew what it felt like to hear him whisper obscenities in that same purring tone… She couldn't believe this. But she had to. She knew what he got up to with women. After Romilda went back to Cormac, Malfoy had naturally moved on to another witch—this time choosing a reserved Ravenclaw. Hermione's eyes stung: he'd danced with her, then gone straight to that Ravenclaw for… It was all so predictable, practical, and logical. Hermione knew his appetites better than anyone.

"Granger…" Malfoy said, eyes wide. The other witch stared down at the carpet, her face a shade of brick red. Malfoy swallowed. "This… this isn't…"

Hermione burst out of the alcove and plunged blindly into the crowd, nearly knocking over a bronze eagle statue. Stupid. Merlin, I'm so stupid, weak, and… stupid. She had actually thought she meant something to Draco Malfoy. He'd probably laughed to himself while dancing with her—the prim little Mudblood who had a secret weakness for a Death Eater…

She crashed into a tall, gangly figure. It was Justin, his mouth hanging open in surprise. His hair was unusually tousled, and vivid splotches of color flushed his cheeks. Her friends had been right—he was properly drunk.

Justin quickly composed himself and gave her a lopsided smile.

"Hermione."

"Ah, there you are." She rummaged in her beaded handbag (today's beads were blue to match her dress) and handed him a small vial. "Sobering solution."

"Why would I need that?" Justin shoved the vial into his pocket. "The party's just getting good." He took her hand and pulled her closer. "Dance with me."

"Justin…" Hermione started, intending to say no—the gramophone nearby was still playing, but no one else was dancing. But then she changed her mind. Why not dance with him? It was the perfect way to counteract her earlier foolishness. At least the Hufflepuff seemed more relaxed than usual. No Victorian courtship rituals tonight?

Apparently not. Justin took advantage of her distraction, wrapping an arm around her waist and beginning a slow, seductive dance, not releasing her hand. It was unexpected.

The enchanting melody of the saxophone wrapped around them. Justin smelled of fresh parchment and expensive cologne—lighter than Malfoy's deep, intense scent.

She felt like she was floating, still dazed by fury, the scar on her left forearm pulsing as Justin's hand slid down from her waist and caressed her backside.

Hermione recoiled, shocked.

"Justin…"

"You're delicious," Justin murmured, running his tongue along her neck. "Who would've thought such a prickly berry would taste so sweet?"

She shuddered in revulsion.

"You've had too much to drink," she said, trying to free her hand from his sweaty grip.

"Don't be so cold," he said. "Aren't I being nice to you? Doesn't it feel good?"

His hand left her backside and crept toward the hem of her dress, starting to lift it as his lips reached for hers.

Hermione pushed him harder and blinked in disbelief when Justin didn't even flinch.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Justin?" she demanded. "Let me go."

His grip tightened around her wrist, and the nails of his other hand dug into her thigh. Drunk or not, friend or not, this had gone way too far. Hermione reached for her wand, and Justin hissed and released her hand, stung by a silent hex.

Hermione was about to whisper another spell to rid herself of his painful grasp when the hand clutching her thigh was suddenly yanked away. She turned her head and saw Malfoy—his fingers deathly white, digging into Justin's wrist so hard the bones creaked.

"Malfoy!" she blurted. "Let him go! I can handle it!"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Drakie," Justin sneered.

Malfoy froze. The two boys stared at each other like they were having a silent duel. Hermione didn't understand what was going on—and didn't care. Yes, Justin had acted disgustingly, but he was still her friend.

"Let him go, Malfoy," she repeated.

The Slytherin loosened his grip, but didn't back off even an inch.

"Just a little lovers' quarrel," Justin smirked.

Malfoy's face grew even darker, and Hermione noticed the artery in his neck pulsing wildly.What is going on?

"That's enough, Justin," she said coldly, stepping back from both wizards. "I suggest you find a quiet corner and sleep it off."

"Granger…" Malfoy took a step toward her but stopped when he glanced at Justin.

Justin swayed unsteadily.

"I don't feel well…" he said, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Hermione, won't you take care of me?"

She snorted.

"Absolutely not. After your behavior tonight, Justin Finch-Fletchley, you'll be lucky if I ever speak to you again! Hypocrite!"

With a wave of her wand, she flung Justin into the nearest chair, where he fumbled drunkenly, trying to get up. Then, without a word to Malfoy, she pushed her way through the crowd. Returning to the Potions Hall, Hermione saw that the cauldron of mulled wine had boiled dry, filling the room with spicy, aromatic smoke. The sharp scent of cloves made her sneeze, but she managed to slip into the next hall unnoticed by her friends.

Getting rid of Malfoy, however, wasn't so easy.He caught up with her in the Astronomy Lab, near a small brass telescope on a delicate tripod. The telescope was swiveling its lens from person to person like a creepy, curious eye.

"Granger… you need to listen to me," he hissed.

"I don't want to hear about your disgusting—"

"Listen to me," Malfoy repeated. "That wasn't your Puff."

"Get away from me!" Hermione's voice hit a high, shrill note, but she didn't care. She hoped Malfoy would be thrown into a cell forever and—

"It wasn't Finch-Fletchley!" Malfoy growled. "You were dancing with Tennant!"

"Tennant…" Hermione echoed. Of course. Drakie…

Malfoy's face was grim.

"Polyjuice."

Hermione stared at him in horror. Tennant Rowley had groped her ass and licked her…

"Ughhh," she muttered, wiping her neck. "Bastard."

"Granger, about Isobel…"

"Justin!" Hermione exclaimed.

Malfoy looked irritated.

"Yes, we've established that. Tennant took Polyjuice to turn into your Hufflepuff. Now, about Isobel—I didn't…"

"No, Justin, you selfish jerk," Hermione snapped. "If that creep in the Transfiguration Hall was Tennant, then… where's the real Justin?"

Malfoy's eyes widened.

"Exactly," she said. "Let me go."

"I can help…"

"You can help by letting me hide in that alcove."

Malfoy frowned.

"And how do you plan to find him in the alcove?"

"Not telling you," Hermione muttered. Nothing. Ever.

"Fine."

He gave her a smug look like he was doing her a favor and positioned himself between her and a bunch of Ravenclaws who were staring at them.

Hermione ducked into the empty alcove, and her eyes immediately filled with tears. She allowed herself a moment of solitude, but the unwelcome emotions kept rising, and she didn't have time for that now. Sniffling discreetly, she opened her beaded purse.

"Accio Map," she whispered, slipping her wand inside.

The Marauder's Map and a Michelin Guide to Scotland flew out. Hermione stuffed the guidebook back in and unfolded the Map on the alcove wall, illuminating it with her wand. The Ravenclaw library halls swarmed with dots, but she ignored them, tracing the shortest route from the Hufflepuff dungeons to the tower. Tennant had probably ambushed Justin on his way to the party, stolen his clothes and…

"Draco," Luna's voice floated in from behind the alcove curtain. Apparently, Malfoy was still hanging around. "You danced beautifully with Hermione. Very sexy, even if her friends were rather rude."

Malfoy muttered something, clearly not in the mood to chat.

"And how sweet you were with Isobel," Luna continued. "She told me everything."

"Don't. Seriously, don't talk about that."

"And the oral sex offer was particularly elegant…"

There it was. Hermione forgot everything else when she saw the tiny letters: Justin Finch-Fletchley.His dot was in a classroom on the first floor, not far from the Hufflepuff dungeons. He could be hurt. Stuffing the map back into her bag, she burst out of the alcove.

"I found him," she announced.

Malfoy nodded.

"Then let's go."

"No, you need to keep an eye on Tennant."

"Granger, just—"

Hermione gripped her wand tightly.

"Shut up."

"Granger," Malfoy gave her a meaningful look. "Watch the time."

The time. Hermione glanced at her watch: 9:20 PM. She had only forty minutes to find Justin and get him to safety before she vanished. Without another word to Malfoy, she headed toward the Divination Hall, with Luna trailing after her.

"Hermione!" Luna had to raise her voice to be heard over the music (the Divination Hall was wild). "Hermione! Why are you angry at Draco?"

"I'm not angry!" Hermione shouted back. "He can shag half the bloody castle for all I care!"

Silence.She hadn't realized they'd crossed into the much quieter Numerology Hall. A group of Ravenclaws stared at her wide-eyed, then immediately began scribbling notes. Hermione blushed.

"Well, Hermione," Luna said calmly, "you know Draco isn't shagging anyone."

"Not for lack of trying," Hermione muttered.

She stormed through the hall and out into the next, nearly breaking into a run. Poor Justin. Alone in that classroom, possibly injured, probably unconscious. Tennant would pay for this—and so would Malfoy. She'd make sure of it.