The Devil's Little Angel (A Harry Potter Dramione fan fiction)

Chapter Two: Not the first time today

Chapter Two:  Not the first time today.

The thestrals bring our carriage right up to the gate and as I jump out I grab Ron’s sleeve and pull him with me into the shadows. We crouch just inside the gate and wait until every single carriage has dropped off its load of students and disappeared into the night. “He wasn’t on any of them!” I hiss to Ron.

“I know!” he shoots back. I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to the gate, wishing with all my might that Harry Potter would just appear there.

“Granger. Weasley.”  A snide voice makes me and Ron jump and I – unthinkingly – grab his hand. Professor Snape glares down at us. “It appears that Potter has...” he pauses to sneer in the direction of the gate “lost his way, as so to speak. Now get to the feast, I will get him.” Ron and I both get to our feet, turn and walk swiftly up the gravel path. It wasn’t until Ron spoke that I realised I was still gripping his hand.

“Are you alright, Hermione?” he asks, eyes scanning my expression.

“Yeah- yes I’m fine, totally mmhmm!” I say in a high pitched voice, dropping his hand and walking a little faster. Ron doesn’t try and keep up with me; I think he may have picked up on my uncomfortable vibes.

I reach the castle with Ron about 10 metres behind me. I run up the stairs and walk quickly into the great hall. Unfortunately I arrive half way through the sorting and earn a colder than frosty glare from Professor McGonagall. I take a seat at the Gryffindor table, next to Neville. “Where were you?” he whispers.

“Looking for Harry, of course” I hiss back. Ron slides into the seat beside me just as the sorting ended.

“Blimey I’m starving” he says, reaching for some roast potatoes as they appear on the table.

“Ron!” I scold “Your best friend is missing and all you can think about is your stomach!” I fold my arms and glare at the table, chewing on my bottom lip. A moment later Ginny slips into the tiny space between me and Neville, red hair swinging and face full of worry. “Where is he, Hermione?” She says quietly.

“I don’t know!” I hiss, glaring at Ron, who has a mouthful of chicken. Ron, with great difficulty, swallows and says “Look at Malfoy!” I turn around and see Malfoy miming something, slamming one hand into the other and pointing to his nose, laughing.

“What is he doing?” I say, bewildered. Ron shrugs and picks at his food.

“I hope he turns up,” whispers Ginny. As though by magic the doors of the great hall swing open and Harry stalks in, still in his normal clothes, but his face is covered in blood. People are standing up to stare at him, but Harry speed walks towards us. Me and Ron automatically slide apart and let him sit down. “What happened?” I cry.

“I’ll tell you later,” he says ominously. I huff and quickly siphon the blood from his face with my wand, then take a slice of cake from the newly appeared dessert dishes.

After Professor Dumbledore’s usual speech I am feeling quite sleepy, but have to do my duty as a prefect and rush ahead of the crowd to steer the first year Gryffindors towards the fat lady. I run out into the entrance hall, using my arms like a shepherd's to heard them in the right direction. I almost reach the stairs when I run in to something. Well someone. I shriek as I fall against them, throwing my hands out to stop myself from hitting the ground, and instead feeling a quite muscular chest.

“Watch it Granger, that’s not the first time today” I cold voice sighs.

I scream and jump away “Argh Malfoy get out the way!” I snarl, storming around him and leading the first years up the stairs.