Chapter Three

"So what happened?" Ron demanded. "Was he rude? Did he make any advances or anything?"

"What? No, of course not. This is Malfoy," she told him. She was a bit hurt that he didn't trust her, but she set it aside. Of course he trusted her, she told herself. He didn't trust Malfoy.

"Anyway, good morning! Are you ready for Defense Against the Dark Arts?" He asked her, pecking her on the lips. Ron was the sweetest boyfriend.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she smiled. He grasped her hand and they made their way to class. They spent the class laughing under their breaths and passing notes to each other.

"Well, that was horribly boring," Hermione giggled as soon as they had left the class.

"I'll say," Ron agreed, still smiling widely. "Should we go to lunch?"

"Sure," Hermione replied. They walked through the crowded hallways until suddenly Ron's smile left his face, replaced with a look of rage.

"Ron, what is it…oh."

Down the hall were Harry and Ginny, lingering in the doorway of an empty classroom. They were passionately making out, Ginny's hands tangled into Harry's black mess of hair, his hands gripping her waist. Ron looked down, his face red.

"Just ignore them," Hermione comforted him. She squeezed his hand. As they left, Hermione looked back just once to their embrace. She realized she was jealous of their relationship, of the relationship she'd never have.

At lunch, a second-year from Ravenclaw nervously approached Hermione.

"Um, Hermione Granger?" he stuttered.

"Yes?" Hermione answered kindly.

"You are needed in the Quidditch pitch. Alone," he added as Ron stood up with her.
"It's just Head Girl business," she told him.
"Will Malfoy be there?" Ron asked.
"Probably," she said after a few seconds. Ron grunted.

"I'll be back," she reminded him, and kissed him lightly. Ron smiled. Hermione followed the Ravenclaw boy to the field, where a group of children and Malfoy waited.

"Hey, what's going on?" Hermione whispered to Malfoy.

"We're supposed to give the first-years a tour of the Quidditch pitch and explain it to them, Granger," he answered sullenly. Obviously he didn't want to do this.

"It'll be fine," she comforted him carefully. He looked up at her, surprised.

"All right, first-years!" Hermione shouted, watching Malfoy out of the corner of her eye. To her surprise, he was actually very good with the kids.

Later that night, when Hermione was enjoyably reading in the common room, she thought she heard Draco….crying. She set down her book and stood up, tiptoeing down the hallway to their dormitories. At first she assumed she was mistaken, but once she was right outside his door, Hermione was certain she heard tears. She contemplated between going in and asking him what was wrong, but then reality hit her. This is Malfoy. He would probably call her a Mudblood and curse her if she ever tried to help him. She shook her head and then went back to her book.

The next night, while Hermione was in the common room, going over her Arithmancy homework, she heard it yet again. Malfoy was definitely crying.

"Okay," she whispered to herself. "I can do this." She determinedly got up from her seat, set her homework aside, and marched down the hallway to Malfoy's room. She knocked hesitantly.

"What do you want?" Malfoy's voice was muffled.

"Um, I wanted to ask if you were okay." She said quietly. There was silence, and then suddenly the door swung open. Draco's blonde locks were mussed, and his grey eyes were bloodshot.

"Honestly?" He asked her, dumbfounded that a Gryffindor, and one of Potter's friends no less, could ever be kind to him.

"Of course, I mean, I don't want you to be hurt or anything…" Hermione answered nervously. She realized as she said the words, they were true. She may not be best friends with Draco, but she wouldn't like him to be hurt, or upset. He was truly a nice guy.

"Well, thanks, Hermione." He responded nervously as well, running a hand through his hair, making it even messier. Hermione couldn't help but think it was a little bit cute that he was so flustered.

"Wait… that's the first time you've called me 'Hermione' and not Mudblood or Granger," Hermione realized. Draco blushed.

"I guess I've noticed that you deserve better than that." Draco mumbled, embarrassed. They stood in silence.

Hermione cleared her throat. "I think you're a better person than people think you are."

He looked up. "I don't think I am."

"Well, I do, and I'm always right, aren't I?" She teased him. "Goodnight, Draco."

As she walked off, she snuck a glance at him. He was smiling.