Deception was an ugly thing and she was a very ugly girl.
She stood before the mirror in the girls' bathroom with water droplets hanging on the ends of her damp curls. Even wet, her mane of wild chestnut hair was impossible to tame and her hairbrush lay abandoned on the edge of the sink. She hardly recognized herself and she touched gingerly at the dark circles beneath her eyes. The bags were purple, puffy and just as rotten as her soul. Sometimes she swore she could smell it festering somewhere deep inside of her and she wondered if anyone else noticed it too.
The stench of death followed her like an ominous low hanging cloud; the darkness blocking out the warmth of the sun and the vibrancy of life. She had been plunged into eternal darkness and she snatched up her bag of toiletries to sweep from the bathroom in a flurry of robes.
With her mask back in place, her chin lifted with feigned confidence and she nodded curtly to Lavender Brown and the Patil twins as she passed by them. Their hushed whispering reminded her of sharp nails on a chalkboard and she cringed as the door closed behind them, silencing their gossip and allowing her to refocus her thoughts.
A warm breakfast waited for her in the Great Hall, and Hermione exchanged her toiletry bag for the worn messenger bag she used to haul her textbooks around in. It had seen better days, but she refused to part with the reliable bag, even if it had been patched up several times by Mrs. Weasley over the years. Whatever she could hold onto, she would.
The Great Hall was bustling with commotion as students trickled in with tired eyes and wrinkled robes. It was a room bursting with distraction and she welcomed the change as she made her way across the room to slide into her usual seat across from Harry and Ron. Neither of them acknowledged her arrival as they poured over the Prophet, their heads bent close together as the crumbs from Ron's slice of toast dropped onto the page. Harry shook them loose as he turned the page and Hermione cleared her throat loudly, startling him and nearly causing his head to collide with Ron's as it snapped up.
"Oh! Good morning, 'mione." Despite the smile he wore, there was no cheer in his voice and she inclined her head in response.
"Good morning. Anything good today?" She asked as she poured herself a glass of orange juice and reached for a muffin from the center of the table.
"Nuffin'," Ron said through a mouthful of toast. He was chewing noisily and Hermione gave him a pointed look that he ignored as he took another bite, spilling crumbs down the front of his robe. With a heavy exhale of defeat, she picked absently at her muffin and glanced around the hall as a gaggle of Slytherin students slipped in through the doors.
Draco Malfoy was at the head of the procession, flanked by Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. Crabbe and Goyle lagged behind, looking more surly than ever and Hermione watched them as they reached the table. She wasn't the only one, and she jumped when Ron snorted loudly.
"Look at them," his lip was curling in disgust. "Walking around like they own the bloody place or something." His disdain was shared by Ginny as she dropped down next to her brother with a nod.
"Morning, Harry," the redhead's cheeks flushed as she quickly reached for the spoon to scoop some eggs onto her plate.
Hermione looked between them and shook her head in disbelief before looking over her shoulder once more. A chill ran down her spine as piercing grey eyes locked with her brown ones. The momentary shock that flashed across her face caused him to smirk knowingly and she whipped back around to face her crumbling muffin and grip her orange juice glass with a trembling hand. Sweet Merlin, how she loathed that boy...
"Check out these Quidditch scores," Ron was pushing the folded newspaper towards his sister eagerly as Harry leaned around him to join in the conversation. "The Harpies are just crushing everyone." Just like that, the Slytherin's were forgotten.
"Of course they are," Ginny sounded pleased as she pulled the paper close to read over the article with a smug smile.
"Told you she'd be smart about it," Ron muttered to Harry with a small smirk. "Hermione, where are you going?" His smirk faded as she rose suddenly and gripped up her bag.
"I just remembered that I have a book I need to return," she scrambled over the bench and dropped the strap of her bag onto her shoulder. "See you all in class," before they could stop her, she was rushing through the Great Hall and barreling through the doors.
It wasn't that she didn't want to talk about Quidditch (she didn't) or poke fun at Ginny for her painfully obvious infatuation with The Boy Who Lived, she just had more pressing matters on her mind. How simple life would have been if all she had to worry about were Quidditch matches and boys. But simplicity was not something that she understood anymore and she stopped somewhere on the second floor to catch her breath.
It also didn't help that Draco Malfoy was just freely flouncing around the school while she—
"Miss Granger." She groaned inwardly and turned to face the man with an even stare.
"Professor," Hermione greeted him coolly. Severus Snape turned the corner with a fluttering of black robes and his eyebrows raised in an expression that she had come to despise.
"In a hurry?" The drawl in his words caused her to visibily cringe and she swallowed down the lump in her throat.
"I was on my way to the library to return a—"
"Then I believe you're going the wrong way," he interrupted her and she grit her teeth. Her fist clenched tightly around the strap of her bag and she looked past him down the empty corridor.
"Oh, right. I must have turned myself around in all of my... excitement," she forced her gaze back to his face and the curtain of greasy black hair that framed it.
"I see." She could count her heartbeats in the echo of silence between them before he finally spoke again. "Try not to let your excitement get the best of you again, Miss Granger," his deliberate enunciation caused her eyes to narrow and he stepped aside, extending an arm to direct her down the corridor in the direct she had just come from.
Hermione rocked on her heels for a moment before nodding her head and mumbling a reluctance 'thanks.' She could feel his eyes burning into her back as she strode back down the corridor towards the moving staircases.
"He's been watching you, you know," the voice drifted up from the foot of the stairs and her shoulders rose and fell in an exaggerated sigh. "I suspect he thinks you're up to something."
"And you're not?" She fired back as she looked over her shoulder. Draco leaned casually against the railing with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black pants. His hair was combed back and the tips of his perfectly polished shoes reflected the candlelight.
He ignored her words as he looked up at the staircases that moved above their heads. "You've been acting awfully different lately, Granger," he mused as though they were merely discussing the weather.
"Are you suggesting that you've been watching me too?" Now she turned around to face him and he finally met her gaze. Rather than respond, he smiled wryly. "And how I act is none of your concern, Malfoy."
"You're wrong. Everything you do now is my concern," he corrected her as he pushed away and turned his back on her to head back down the stairs. "Have fun at the library," she could hear the smirk in his voice as he raised a hand and flicked his wrist in a lazy, dismissive wave.
Had she something to throw at him, she would have. The thought of hexing him crossed her mind and her fingers twitched towards the wand tucked inside of her robes, but she stopped herself. Getting expelled was not an option and besides, he wasn't worth her time. He was positively infuriating and she growled under her breath. She wanted to squash him like a cockroach beneath her heel, but he was just as resilient as the ugly bug and she watched him go.
He was just another obstacle she had to overcome and Hermione took a deep breath to steady herself as she lingered on the stairs. Only when students began to empty out from the Great Hall did she finally force herself into motion and lose herself in the sea of bodies making their way towards their classrooms.