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Disclaimer: I do not own these characters in any way, shape, or form.  I’m just messing around with them a bit…..well a lot.


Author’s Note: I know I’ve been being lazy and that a lot of you are probably kinda pissed that I keep promising updates and never delivering, but I’m trying.  There’s been a lot going on and I’m sorry that I’ve only gotten you 5 updates in a year.  I’m going to try and rectify this.  I hope you’ll continue to read and review. 


Why Don’t You Kiss Her

Chapter 6: I’m So Sick


“Come on!” Hermione said as she ran ahead of her three friends. “I have to get to the Head’s compartment in ten minutes.”


“Mione, you have ten whole minutes.” Ron argued, “Just let us find a compartment and you can go.”  He was pulling not only his trunk, but hers as well.  Surprisingly her trunk wasn’t all that heavy.  He supposed that all the Quidditch that he and Harry had played at the Burrow had actually helped him with something other than his boredom.


“I don’t need to be late Ron.” Hermione argued as they searched for an empty compartment. 


“You don’t have to get snappy you know.” Ron grumbled.


“I wasn’t getting snappy.”


“Could’ve fooled me.”


“What’s your problem?” Hermione asked, her hands on her hips.  She knew what this was about and she really didn’t want to get in a fight about it.  And if she knew Ron she knew that he wasn’t about to start anything in front of their friends.


“You know exactly what my problem is.  Just go to your head’s meeting and we’ll talk later.” Ron replied, refusing to look at her, the tips of his ears turning red.


“Fine.” Hermione snapped and turned towards the Head’s Compartment.  She was going to storm off when she felt a hand on her arm, “Ron I’m not going to…Oh it’s you Ginny.”


“Hermione calm down.” Ginny said, rolling her eyes.  Her brother and Hermione were never going to quit fighting.  She smirked as Hermione looked down the train at the Head’s compartment.  She was very aware that Hermione didn’t have to be in there for another two hours.  She knew Hermione was excited about seeing Draco again.


Hermione shot Ginny a meaningful look, “I am calm.”


“No you’re not.” Harry said as he snorted at her behavior. 


Hermione glared at him before she opened the door to a compartment, “It’s empty.” She announced.  She gave Ron a kiss on the cheek and started down to the other side of the train, “I’ll see you all in a little bit.”


“Bye Mione.” Ginny winked at her and entered the compartment.  She sighed as she saw that Harry had elected to sit by Ron.  She lay across the other seat and opened the romance novel Hermione had let her borrow, but she wasn’t really reading.  At the current moment she was brooding.  The war was over and there was nothing standing in between her and Harry.  She knew he had some stuff that he needed to get over and that was all fine and dandy, but why wouldn’t he let her help him?  Hell, for that matter, why wouldn’t he even look at her?  She was so tired of waiting around, hoping with all that she was that he’d deign to give her the time of day again.  This was so pathetic and Ginny Weasley was NOT pathetic.  He had a week.  If he didn’t get over himself and come to her in a week then she would move on.  She looked at Harry quietly as he and Ron talked in hushed tones.  This was getting really old.



Hermione walked to the Head’s Compartment trying to push last night’s debacle out of her mind.  Of course they were going to fight about it eventually.  It was kind of unavoidable, but Hermione was still pretty upset about it.  She didn’t want to have this argument feeling the way she did at the moment. 




“I should really get to bed.” Hermione said as she attempted to disentangle herself from Ron’s embrace, he held on still sloppily kissing her neck, “Really Ron!  I need to go before your parents catch us.”


Ron groaned and looked up at her, “Come on Mione.  They’re in bed.  They won’t suspect anything.” His hand started stroking her thigh lightly, “Besides…I’m not ready to stop yet.”  He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her.


Hermione kissed back, trying desperately to feel something, anything, but nothing came.  She kissed him harder, her hands tangling in his hair.  It should have set her body on fire, she should have been trembling.  This was supposed to be just like those damn kisses in those damn romance novels.  Yet, she still felt nothing.  “Ron..”


Ron obviously thought that meant she was into it or something because he lowered her to the couch, trailing kisses down her collarbone.  His hands went to the hem of her shirt.


“We need to stop.” She persisted as he began to pull her shirt up.  She tried to push him off, but he wouldn’t budge.


“Come on Hermoine.  I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”


Her eyes shot open and she struggled to push him off her.  When he finally toppled to the ground she stood with her hands on her hips, “Waiting for what?” She asked.  Her eyes ablaze as she looked at him sprawled on the floor.  He surely didn’t think that they were having sex this soon.


“Waiting for,” He blushed, “you know.”  He was kind of confused.  Hermione had seemed really into it.  Why was she acting like this?


Her eyes were wide and she growled, “I cannot believe you.” She hissed.


“What did I do?” Ron asked, confusion marring his features.  He got up and moved to touch her.


Hermione was furious.  Before he could get to her she poked him in the chest, “I am not a whore Ronald Weasley.  I do not sleep with a guy after only two weeks of dating.”  She turned and began to walk out the door, “Goodnight Ron.”


“What?  Where are you going?  We weren’t finished.” He argued as he chased her up the stairs. 


Hermione stopped at Ginny’s door and turned to look at him, “Go to bed.”  His face went from confused to embarrassed to angry in a matter of seconds.  He opened his mouth to say something, but at Hermione’s glare he turned and stalked angrily towards his room.


**End Flashback**


She shook her head and entered the compartment.  Draco wasn’t there yet.  She chuckled softly.  He always did have a penchant for being late.  Hermione had this theory that Draco did things on ‘Draco time.’  This basically meant that not only was he never on time, but his ability to be late or early depended solely on his mood. 

She lay across the seat and stared at the ceiling.  Would things be awkward?  They’d never really had a fight before.  She didn’t know how to act now.  It was like there was this shadow hovering over her telling her that Draco would never accept her being with Ron.  It hurt that Draco had said the things he’d said…and even though he said he was sorry she knew it was just to placate her.  She knew their friendship meant a lot to him and she’d been banking on that when she’d sent him that letter.


Hermione stood quickly as she heard the door being opened.  She smiled as Draco walked in.  “Took you long enough.” She said tonelessly, but her smile gave her away.  She was truly happy to see him.


He crossed the compartment in a stride and hugged her.  “I had some things I had to do.” 


Hermione smiled into his chest, hugging him back just as tightly.  “I missed you.” She whispered.


“I missed you too.” He said as he sat.  He watched her as she took a seat next to him.  She was still the same.  He didn’t know why, but somehow he thought she would’ve changed since their fight.  She would’ve become colder or foreign somehow, but no, she was the same and it comforted him. “So how are you and the Weasel doing?”


She gave him a look and huffed, “His name is Ron.”


Draco put his arm around her and tried not to laugh.  She looked adorable when she was frustrated, “Fine.  How are you and Ron?”


“We’re fine I guess.” She said as she looked at her hands.  The memory of last night came to mind and she turned to Draco, “Do you think I’m easy?”


Draco looked at her questioningly, “No.”  He thought for a moment and took her hand, “What happened?”


“What do you mean?” This was the last thing she wanted to do.  She knew Draco and when she told him about last night he’d be furious and it’d be all she could do to keep him from fighting Ron.


“Hermione you’re acting weird.”


“No I’m not.”


Draco laughed and tilted her face up to look at him, “You forget that I know you Hermione.”


She sighed, “Can we just change the subject.  I really don’t feel like talking about it.”


Draco tried to contain his grin.  Could there be trouble in paradise?  He fought the urge to jump in the air and whoop.  His Slytherin side wanted him to keep pressing, keep trying to find out what was going on, but his friend side won out and he changed the subject. “Fine.  How’s your mother?” 


Hermione bit her lip.  And there was the other subject she wanted to avoid, “I wouldn’t know.”


“And why not?” He asked.


She looked ashamed, “Because I haven’t written her.”  She looked to the ground, avoiding his expectant gaze. “I just can’t Draco.  I can’t talk to her.  I feel like this whole situation is my fault.”


“How is your parent’s divorce your fault Hermione?” Draco asked kissing her forehead gently.


She shrugged, “I don’t know.  I just feel like it is.” She looked out the window.


“Hermione you know you’re never going to get over it if you don’t talk about it.” Draco chided gently.


“Well maybe if I don’t talk about it I won’t feel guilty anymore and it’ll all just go away.” She argued.  She was not going to cry.  She’d shed enough tears over this already.


Draco shook his head, “You know that’s not going to work right?”


“I know, but can’t I just pretend for a little while?” She was desperate.  Every time she tried to talk about her parent’s divorce she felt like she couldn’t breathe.  “How’s your mother?”


“My mother is fine, really pissed off that I had a row with you, but fine.  She wants you to come for the holidays.” Draco answered deciding to go along with her subject change for now.


“That ought to be fun.” Hermione replied as she and Draco fell into comfortable conversation.  They talked about everything from the last two weeks to the books they’d both read.  It was nice, it was fun and they were enjoying themselves.  It only makes sense that they didn’t hear the door opening or see the two angry faces that stared at them.



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