When Love Hurts | Dramione - COMPLETED

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Hermione's POV 

Hermione Granger was many things. 

She was the brightest witch of her age. 

She was best friends with Harry and Draco. 

But she was not stupid. 

She glared at the different potions bubbling merrily. The cupcake was nearly gone, and unless she got Draco to regurgitate his, she would never get to the bottom of this. 

One more spell. 

The spell for revealing hidden things only discovered Lavender's secret stash of Chocolate Frogs. 

Or two. 

The spell for disassembling things only split the cupcake into smaller pieces. 

Or three. 

Bombarda only made Hermione feel better by taking out her anger. 

Or four. 

"Deme duritiam incantatorum tuorum vehementem," Hermione chanted, remembering the time Draco had found a pranking spell inside another spell.

Draco...

Hermione nearly lost her concentration. Don't think about him. Finish this.

Something started bubbling in the center of the piece of the cupcake. Hermione leaned in, a container ready in her hand.

A little pink pill popped out. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. A pill?

Suddenly acting with a strange resolve, she jumped up, placing the pill carefully in a box, then her bag. Lily Potter was amazing at potions. She'd be able to find out what it was.

She hurried outside, trying not to appear suspicious.

A few Gryffindors lazily glanced up at her, then , uninterested, looked back down. She nearly made it all the way to the Owlery without getting caught.

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione faltered, her mind working overtime to conjure up an excuse for why she was there.

I was going to feed my owl.

You don't have an owl.

I was going to send a letter to my parents.

Where's the letter?

I was going to come up here to send a letter to a murderer who killed 13 people with one curse, except he's actually innocent.

That was just random.

"Professor!" Hermione trilled, trying to sound enthusiastic. Instead, she sounded like she was being strangled.

"What exactly are you doing?" Umbridge enquired politely, though Hermione could see curiosity and suspicion glinting in her eyes.

"Je ne parle pas anglais!" Hermione blurted out, trying to cover her bag. Umbridge's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, sorry, I thought you were... that is to say, I thought Draco! Uh, yes, I thought Draco was behind you. And that's an, erm, French... thing... we have," Hermione fibbed, trying to look casual.

Umbridge looked at her, confused. "Sorry?"

Hermione pretended to choke on air. "Excuse me, I must have had something bad during lunch, I seem to be sick," she fibbed, holding her stomach in 'pain'.