Not at All Formulaic

Chapter 4

Harry pulled Hermione aside during morning break to a secluded little garden with dozens of rose bushes and stone benches with flower-laden arches over them and pixies humming softly around them. Hermione blinked at his ability to draw a romantic space out of thin air- she was quite sure she had never seen this garden before.

"Hermione," Harry began, gently pulling her down to sit on the bench next to him, "we've been friends a long time."

"Thank you, Master of the Obvious," responded Hermione, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Harry blinked, but plowed on, nervously running a hand over the back of his neck. "Well, see, the thing is... I don't want to be friends any more." At Hermione's hurt look, he hurried on, correcting himself, "I mean, not *just* friends, anymore. I... I want to date you, Hermione, and not *just* date, I want to hold hands and snog you in dark corners and bang you like a screen door in a hurricane."

Hermione bit her lip in thought. "Does the UK get many hurricanes?" She shook her head a bit to regain her focus. "Harry, I don't see where this is coming from. We're friends, and just that. There is absolutely no chemistry between us, and any relationship would be doomed from the start."

"Yes, but," Harry said a bit desperately, "you've got boobs!!!"

"I'm really sorry to break your heart like this, Harry," Hermione continued sadly. "But it just wouldn't work." She stood and quietly left the impromptu garden.

A short while later, Harry was found flat on his back in that same garden, covered in pixie bites.

Later that day, Ron pulled Hermione into a Convenient Broom Cupboard.

"Oy, Hermione, you busy?"

Hermione gave Ron an exasperated sigh. "Ron, you're sweet, but utterly clueless. We will probably wind up together, me popping out more little red-haired children than we can count on one hand, and living happily ever after once the whole war thing is over. But for now, I need a little space."

"The cupboard is too small? I'll find another one, just give us a sec-"

"No, Ron. And you also need to mature a bit more before you finally make a move. You need to sort out your own priorities." She sighed softly again, then stepped out of the cupboard and headed toward Gryffindor tower.

"Let's think," Ron muttered to himself after her departure. "Girls and sex. Yep, those two are right at the top of my priorities. What's left to sort out?"

The snow fell silently to the ground, covering the great castle in an icing blanket. No one was quite sure how winter had managed to appear after two and a half chapters, but no one fought the author's directions (they would have lost anyhow).

'I'm glad I'm staying at Hogwarts for the holidays,' Draco thought to himself as he trudged up the stairs to Transfiguration. 'I won't have to see my father again until summer! All the sea bass will rot, and he'll have to throw them out! Maybe I can come up with some kind of reckless, foolhardy plan in the meantime to get myself out of getting the Dark Mark. I really don't need some unseemly tattoo blemishing my perfect marble skin.' He continued up the stairs, singing softly to himself one of his favorite songs:

"It's been so long since I've seen your face,

So long since I've been to first base.

I really miss the feel of your kiss,

But can I have back my things before I get really pissed?"

Malfoy was just setting his bag down in the Heads' dorm when he felt a strange sense of foreboding. 'I don't know what's wrong,' he thought sagely to himself, 'but I know something *is* wrong!' He glanced around, trying to place the feeling of wrongness. Looking down, he gasped in shock.

'I knew something was wrong! I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe. A good long trail of it, too! Dear Merlin, how long has that been there?!?' He quickly reached down and tore it off, throwing it into a Convenient Waste Bin. He sighed in relief, having solved the problem. Suddenly, he gasped again. 'That wasn't it! Hermione!'

He bolted out of the room and into the Forbidden Forest where he knew he would find her.

"Mr. Malfoy, no running in the corridors!" exclaimed Madame Pomfrey on her way to the Hospital Wing. She then noticed that his arms were laden with a brown furry bundle, which then morphed into Hermione Granger. She threw a hand over her mouth at the ragged, torn, and dirty state of Hermione and her clothes, and demanded that Draco take her immediately to the infirmary.

"And hurry, sir!"

"But you told me not to run!"

"Screw what I told you, just bring her, you doltish prat!"

The two hurried down the hall, nearly knocking over Colin Creevey who had come to take a picture (the author is exultant! She did find a way to work in Colin again!).

Once inside the Hospital Wing, Draco lobbed Hermione unceremoniously onto a nearby bed. Panting, bending over with his hands on his knees, he commented absently, "She's no pixie."

Pomfrey bustled about, muttering spells, pulling small vials of potions out of cupboards, doing things Pomfrey is generally known to do. "Where did you find her?"

"In the Forbidden Forest. She was a barely-recognizable tangled heap when I found her, crying her eyes out. She passed out in my arms."

"Do you have any idea what happened?" she said, giving him a dark look.

Before Malfoy could answer, the door burst open to admit Dumbledore and Professor Trelawney, of all people.

"What are *you* doing here?" demanded Draco, eyeing Trelawney incredulously.

"I Saw that something was terribly, terribly wrong and came down immediately to see if I was right, and see! I was!!! Plus the third movie just came out and the author was thinking what a superb job Emma Thompson had done with the character, so-"

"Hush, everyone! She's waking!" interrupted Madame Pomfrey.

Everyone hurried around to Hermione's bed, watching the bruised and battered girl slowly open her eyes. Those eyes immediately fell on Trelawney.

"If you are the most inappropriate person to be here at this moment," murmured Hermione.

The Divination professor sniffed indignantly, then moved to the other side of the room. "If I'm not very much mistaken, I saw a Grim just looking through that window."

"Which window?" questioned Malfoy.

"That one," she replied pointing.

"You're pointing in between two windows."

"Well, I saw it in both."

"I bet you're lying," said Draco, looking at her in mild disgust.

"I most certainly am not! I saw it! Right there!"

"You're not even pointing near a window anymore!"

"Are you doubting my Eye?"

"I'm doubting both your eyes, you old hag!"

"Hermione, dear, what happened?" Dumbledore asked, firmly overriding the argument.

Fresh tears sprung from Hermione's eyes. "I was raped!" she declared.

A collective gasp was heard around the room.

"By who?" asked Draco.

"That should be 'whom', dear," corrected Trelawney, looking slightly smug.

"It was... it was..." she gasped out, sobbing brokenly. "It was Harry!"

Another collective gasp. "Damn that Potter, I'll tear his throat out-" began Malfoy, but Hermione continued.

"And-and-and... Ron, too!"

A third collective gasp. "Weasley is going to be a pile of organs and bones when I finish with him-" threatened Malfoy, but Hermione interrupted once again.

"And a random nameless Death Eater!"

The gasp was slightly quieter, and more filled with awe than shock.

"And Lucius Malfoy!"

"Father, no!" cried Draco, clutching his hair, his own eyes beginning to tear.

"And- and... Voldemort!"

"Sounds more like an orgy, really," contributed Trelawney.

"And Nagini!"

A collective "Eeewww!!!" rang out in the infirmary.

Hermione lay peacefully in the Hospital Wing, sleeping off all the many potions Pomfrey had given her. Draco lay in the bed beside her, an arm around her, holding her protectively. Madame Pomfrey had let him stay because she thought he was cute.

"I swear, Hermione," Draco muttered over her prone form, letting his hand do a little exploring since she was knocked out, "I swear that I shall avenge your pain and torment. I swear that at the end of the fic when all the Death Eaters attack the school and we manage to beat them back and kill Voldemort all in one chapter, I will avenge your virtue." His hand and his words stilled for a moment. "You *did* still have your virtue?" When she didn't answer (she was unconscious, after all), he continued. "No matter. I shall destroy all those who hurt you one by one because I am madly in love with you and it is only right that I should be protective and zealously defensive of the one I love. But for now, sleep well, my little chipmunk."

Hermione shifted in her sleep, moving so that she was facing Malfoy's chest; she was sleep talking, too. Leaning down to catch her words, Draco heard her say, "If you ever call me a 'little chipmunk' again, I'll rip your balls off and make soup with them."