Silence.

Hermione felt incredibly awkward, but Malfoy seemed unaware of this as he swaggered through the corridors with his usual disregard for anything as common as awkwardness.

They had been in total silence for the past twenty-five minutes and although Hermione thought it was probably better than spending the time throwing insults at each other, the silence was starting to get boring. Maybe he was just annoyed at her - well, more annoyed than usual. After all, she had just walked straight into his bedroom and had a look round - she knew if it had been the other way around she would have been pissed at him. Maybe she should try to take the highroad. She could be mature, even if she did hate the scumbag's guts.

"So, ermm...sorry." She began. "About going into your room," She added after he just glanced her way with a blank expression on his face.

Silence again.

"I didn't realise you were there, not that I wouldn't have gone in just because you were around. I mean, I was just being curious and - "

"Granger, would you shut up?" Malfoy snapped.

"I'm just trying to be polite. We can spent the rest of the evening in utter boring silence if you would rather?"

"Actually I would. I'd much rather silence that your ridiculous attempts at apologetic small talk,"

"At least I don't swagger around the castle like I own the place. Is that what working for a murderer does? Turns you into some sort of superior asshole,"

She saw Malfoy's jaw tense and knew she had almost crossed the line. The petty insults were inconsequential, but when it came to Voldemort suddenly everything became real.

When he spoke his voice was cold, calculating and arrogant. He was full of self-assurance, as though he already knew the effect his words were going to have.

"You're just worried about your little friends. Soon you'll realise that Potter and the Weasels...they're not worth it" He sneered, adding "You disgust me Mudblood,"

Slap. She hit him straight across the cheek.

In the brief second it took her to realise what she had just done, Malfoy had gone from vicious to stunned; she could see the shock flash across his face. And in that fleeting moment Hermione's mind began racing with random questions...had anyone ever hit Malfoy? Maybe his Father had, but she doubted Narcissa was violent with him. Had Malfoy ever been treated with anything but completely fake respect by everyone at Hogwarts? Well he wasn't getting it from her.

But he did frighten Hermione - she wasn't going to deny that. She might have been the better of them at magic, however Malfoy was almost a foot taller than she was, and that alone was enough to convince her that fighting Malfoy was not a good idea.

Her hand shook as she lowered it back down to her side.

"Sorry," She tried to apologise, but it only came out as a whisper.

He took a step towards her. Every instinct she had told her to draw back, but ever the brave Gryffindor she remained fixed to the spot - almost tempting him to do his worst.

"Granger, you need to be more careful," His voice was quiet, but not in a menacing way...it almost sounded...gentle.

They both stood staring at each other, breathing each other's air and waiting for the next move. Hermione didn't know what to do - he didn't look angry, he just looked, well...confused. His face remained blank, but his eyes gave away his emotions and he'd never seemed more perplexed. She had no idea why though, she just knew she wasn't going to stand him calling her that anymore.

Maybe he was just as puzzled by his own words as she was - Hermione had no idea what to make of them. What did he mean by 'be more careful'? Be careful around him? Or someone else? What was he even talking about?

Finally Malfoy moved. His eyes flickered and all of a sudden she could see he had returned to the usual sneer of disgust he wore on his face. He ever so slightly leaned forward. His hands began to move and Hermione didn't process what he was doing until his had drawn out his wand to eye level. It was only centimetres from her face. She took a sharp breath in, expecting his anger to show in the form of a hex on her. Yet he pointed it towards his own face and muttered a healing charm for the red mark that was already forming there. Then he turned and stalked down the corridor.

Gone.

Even the air seemed to relax and Hermione let out the breath she hadn't realised she was holding. For a long time she just stood there motionless, bewildered by what had just happened.

It took longer than she thought to get back to the dormitory, and by the time she was collapsing into bed it was almost midnight.