"What? Is she mad?"

"What has gotten into her?"

"Has she lost her mind?"

"What happened to her?"

"Hermione and Malfoy?"

"What the f--"

"--Fudge!" Ron shouted, pounding his fist on the table. "What the fudge is going on here?"

Murmurs followed Hermione through class the rest of the day and especially when she entered the Great Hall for dinner. Heads turned to look at her, and not in a good way. Everyone thought she'd either lost her mind completely or had something slipped into her morning pumpkin juice.

"Probably Lola's Lovely Love Potion," whispered Lavender as Hermione sat down.

Hermione's face was burning and she knew it. She tried to cover it with her hair, but no matter what she did, she could still feel them glaring at her...staring at her. She could feel them thinking about her even. And that scared her.

"Do you think Draco would really do that?" whispered Parvati back.

Lavender shrugged. "I don't know, but maybe Hermione put a spell on him. She's brainy after all."

Ron sat in his seat, his eyes not moving off Hermione. She didn't look up at him, but cast her eyes on her plate and kept them there. But she wasn't really seeing it. She didn't have any clue what she was eating. She was thinking.

Why had she made this preposterous deal with Malfoy? What had gotten into her? She'd have rather had detention than have to snog Malfoy. Or worse, have people think she liked him. Oh no. What if Oliver thought she liked him? Wait, why did she care if Oliver thought she liked him? She didn't like Oliver, it was just a little crush.

Harry leaned down so his face was inches from her hair, which was cascading around her in a sort of cocoon...shielding her partially from view.

"Are you okay, Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry, I'm fine." She replied, not moving an inch.

"Why are you dating Malfoy?" Ron asked, jumping into the conversation. Chatter at the Gryffindor table stopped completely. Everyone strained to hear the trio's conversation.

"I'm not, Ron." Hermione stressed. "I'm not dating Malfoy."

Ron didn't believe her. "It sure looks it. Why are you following him around like a lost puppy?"

"Because...he....he covered for me in Potions so I wouldn't get detention."

"That doesn't explain it," said Harry, shaking his head.

Hermione gave him a sharp look. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"Everything all right?" Oliver Wood asked, stepping up to their table. "It's awfully quiet over here. Not planning something against the Slytherins are you?" He winked in Hermione's general direction, but it could have been at Harry. Hermione didn't care. Her stomach was all a flutter. She noticed that his eyes quickly flicked to her and then away again. Or maybe it was her imagination.

"No, Oliver, we're just asking Hermione why she's suddenly Malfoy's slave."

Oliver stared at her. His voice was higher than usual, "Malfoy's slave?"

Hermione sank lower in her seat, wishing the ground would just swallow her up.

"Didn't you hear?" Ron asked. "I'm surprised. Usually news travels quite fast 'round this place. Hermione's dating Malfoy."

"She is?" Oliver asked, looking pointedly at Hermione.

Her face was turning from red, the scarlet to crimson in a matter of seconds. She felt sure that if she touched her cheek, there would be a loud sizzling sound like water being poured on burning charcoal.

"I'm not," whispered Hermione, her voice shaky. "Shut up, Ron."

"Want to go out to the grounds for a bit of a snog session?" Draco asked, striding up to their table like he owned the place.

Hermione's head snapped up. Her face was burning, not from embarrassment, but from anger. "I will not snog you, Malfoy."

"That's not what you said earlier," snarled Draco. "Come on, let's go."

"No, we're not dating and I WILL NOT snog you. I despise you!" Hermione stood up to face him. The were inches apart, both looking livid with rage.

Oliver, mouth open wide, did nothing to stop the next turn of events. Even though he was a teacher, he stayed out of it.

Draco grabbed Hermione by both arms and pushed his mouth to hers. His mouth was warm on hers. It took her by such surprise that she didn't react until a few seconds into the kiss.

She shoved him in the chest and his lips pulled from hers. She stumbled backwards into Oliver who caught her and steadied her without really noticing what he was doing. He was still staring at Draco.

"Fine, Granger," snapped Draco, "but I'm not doing you any favors."

"Please don't," countered Hermione, righting herself.

Draco stalked off, the whole of the Great Hall staring in disbelief after him. He probably would have made more of a scene if he hadn't gotten all he wanted out of their 'relationship'. He'd won the bet, but he hadn't won the girl. That, he thought, would come in due time.

Oliver let go of Hermione in an instant, like he'd just realized he was touching her and shouldn't be. Hermione stepped away from him, her face still very red.

Hermione glanced at her classmates. Harry and Ron were speechless with shock. Lavender and Parvati were giggling together and watching Oliver. Oliver was watching her with mild interest on his face.

"What was that about?" Ron demanded, finally finding his voice.

Hermione shrugged. "I can't control him." She wiped her lips with the sleeve of her robes. Even though the kiss hadn't been that bad, she didn't want people to think she'd enjoyed it.

Oliver cleared his throat. "I think that was the quickest relationship in Hogwart's History."

Hermione was about to say it wasn't a relationship when a wave of professors approached them at a run. Dumbledore was in the lead followed closely by Snape and McGonagall; running as fast as his legs would carry, Professor Flitwick held up the rear. Why it had taken them so long to arrive, Hermione didn't know. Perhaps Dumbledore had held them off so she could take care of it on her own.

"Everything all right here?" Dumbledore asked them, looking at each person in turn. Hermione nodded at him slowly.

"I think Granger was seducing Mr. Malfoy, Headmaster." Snape said, his eyes glinting dangerously at Hermione.

"Severus, I---"

Dumbledore was cut off. "Professors, Miss Granger was not seducing Mr. Malfoy. He made the advance, she did nothing but shove him off." Oliver Wood stated firmly.

Dumbledore smiled slightly at him in a knowing sort of way. "Is that true, Hermione?"

"Yes, sir. I was just telling him I wouldn't...snog him."

"I find it hard to believe that Mr. Malfoy wanted to snog her," said Snape angrily.

"Severus, that's enough," cut in Professor McGonagall sharply. "It is obvious that none of this was Miss Granger's intent. I suggest you go and have a nice chat with Malfoy."

Snape swept up his robes and strolled easily out of the Hall, everyone watching him leave. Once he was gone, eating resumed at all tables but Gryffindor. The Gryffindor's apt attention was still focused on Hermione and her apparent love life...or lack thereof.

Her face was burning and she was looking at her shoes. Harry, Ron, Oliver and Dumbledore were all watching her.

"I think it be best, Headmaster, if we leave it here so everyone can finish their meals," suggested McGonagall.

"I agree," squeaked Professor Flitwick, finally catching up. He was standing on an empty spot at the Gryffindor table, his head barely reaching Harry's shoulder.

McGonagall acknowledged him with a nod and she turned curtly to Dumbledore. "I must go and prepare my next class. Excuse me." She fled from the hall soon after.

"Professor Wood?" Dumbledore asked, "If I might speak with you in my office."

Oliver nodded and followed the Headmaster out of the hall. The Gryffindors finally resumed eating. Parvati and Lavender, the gossiping lithium hyenas, were still straining to hear.

"Best finish your meals, children," said Professor Flitwick, jumping down to the floor. Harry and Ron took their seats at the table, but didn't eat. Hermione, completely and utterly humiliated, ran from the hall, tears falling down her face at an alarming rate.

Meanwhile, Oliver Wood and Professor Dumbledore had just reached his office. Oliver was patting Fawkes while Dumbledore took his seat.

"Please sit, Oliver." Dumbledore said kindly, gesturing to the chair in front of him.

Oliver sat. "What is it you wanted to speak to me about, Professor?"

"Hermione Granger, Oliver."

Oliver swallowed. "What about her?"

"I may be an old coot, but I'm not blind." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he smiled lightly.

"Not blind, sir?"

"You are a Professor now, Oliver. I know that Miss Granger has grown up, but that doesn't mean you should abandon your post as flying instructor."

"I'm not abandoning--"

"There is a strict policy at this school," said Dumbledore, ignoring Oliver's protest, "that states faculty and students are not allowed to have any contact other than academic. So unless your intent is to tutor Miss Granger, I suggest you forget about her. I do not want to lose you this year, Oliver. It is a great pleasure to have you back."

"Thank you sir, it is a great pleasure to be back. But I must assure you that I have no intent whatsoever with Miss Granger. Academic or otherwise."

"Few people disagree, Oliver."

"Who've you talked to?" Was Oliver's strong reply.

Dumbledore chuckled slightly, "I think you've been watching too many Muggle mob movies, dear boy."

Oliver blushed slightly. "I had a lot of down time between injuries last year, sir."

Dumbledore nodded. "Understandable. I have not talked to anyone. I just use my eyes...and ears. I put them to good use."

Oliver didn't say anything right away. He was contemplating his next words. "I have feelings for Miss Granger, sir. But they are only friendly. I do not wish to tarnish my job here. She, Harry and Ron are old friends." He shrugged. "That's it."

"Very well, Oliver. I thank you for your time."

Oliver stood up.

"If you should want some help polishing the brooms, I'm sure Miss Granger will be happy to oblige. Just stay away from Mr. Malfoy. He, too, uses his eyes and ears."

Oliver paled a little, but recovered quickly and smiled before exiting the office.

*

"So what? Did you pay her to date you for an hour?" Blaise Zabini questioned. (a/n: he is a boy in this, but in the books, he lacks gender)

"No, but what does it matter to you? You weren't in on the bet," Draco Malfoy replied. He slid into his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.

"And for good reason," said Blaise.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco asked, sitting up to look at the other boy.

Blaise sat up in his bed too. Snores from Crabbe and Goyle were already filling the room and they'd only just gone to bed.

"Nothing," he paused, trying to find something good to say, "it's just...why would I want to date a Mudblood?"

"She's a good looking Mudblood," said Draco.

"So?" Blaise shrugged. "A Mudblood is a Mudblood."

"If I remember correctly, you live with Muggles," snapped Draco.

"I'm adopted. It's not my fault they're Muggles."

"True," obliged Draco. "But that doesn't change the facts."

Blaise grunted angrily. "No, it doesn't. And I pay for it everyday. But I come from a pureblood family even if I don't live with them."

"They're in Azkaban. Go kill Potter, that'll land you in with them. Then you'll live with purebloods."

"Shut up," shot Blaise. "Now, seriously, Draco, how did you get her to go out with you?"

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing," said Blaise defensively. "I was just curious how Draco Malfoy...the arch enemy of Harry Potter could get Harry Potter's friend to go out with him for just one day anyway...and snog him."

Draco shrugged. "Charm, I suppose. Something you can't understand because it lacks so much in your gene pool."

"I've got charm, you dolt."

Draco snorted, "Sure."

"You don't know, Draco, what goes on with me when you're not around. For all you know I could have----"

"Could have what?" Draco said, his voice challenging.

"Nothing," said Blaise, turning over. "Never mind."

"If you want to date her so much, you should have gotten in on the bet," yawned Draco, also turning over, so his back was facing Blaise's bed.

"I don't need to bet," whispered Blaise to himself, "I've already lived it."

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