TADAA! MORE WRITING! I do hope you enjoy it, since it's taken me far longer than it should have. Anyway, thankyou SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed. You guys are the sweetest.
xxx
Potions class was not one of Hermione's favorite subjects on a good day. On a bad day? Lets just say she'd rather fight a hippogriff with both hands tied behind her back.
The hallway by the potions classroom was crowded with students running to their respective classes but Hermione was in absolutely no hurry. Still, there was only so long you could loiter in the hallway, and she didn't want to be late. She didn't have the time-turner anymore, she couldn't just dilly dally all she wanted.
The classroom was already crowded when she entered, but Slughorn hadn't come in yet, so students were sitting, talking, and generally causing mayhem. Hermione smiled at their antics and turned to go to her seat. What she saw made her stop in her tracks.
In her spot, Ron and Lavender seemed to be trying to devour each others faces. In. Her. Spot. Hermione blanched, balling her fists up. Next to them Harry sat, looking uncomfortable. He tried to catch her eye but she turned before he could, marching over to a table in the back and slamming her books down on it's scratched wood.
Hermione yanked her potions book out of her bag and slammed it on the table, crossing her arms over her chest. This was ridiculous. How could Ron do this? With that stupid slut! Didn't he know how she felt about him? She closed her eyes, trying to get rid of the image that was currently seared on the back of her eyelids.
Hermione wasn't sure what to think anymore. She'd thought she'd loved Ron. But then again she'd thought he'd loved her too. She wasn't sure about anything anymore.
Above her, someone cleared their throat pointedly. "Excuse me? This seat taken, Granger?" Said a familiar drawling voice. Oh fabulous, thought Hermione opening her eyes, As if this couldn't get any more confusing.
"No. If you want it it's yours." She replied sullenly, flipping open her book and turning to the page written on the chalkboard. Draco Malfoy sat down, pulling out his own book and opening it. He didn't look at her or say anything, just began reading as if he hadn't attacked her in a hallway or dragged her into a secret room only a week before. To say that Hermione didn't understand him at all would be a monstrous understatement.
She was still trying to figure out how to start up a conversation when Pansy came slinking up to the table. "Draco, darling. Why don't you come sit with me." She leaned over, giving both of them a less than enjoyable view of her cleavage.
A look of faint disgust passed over his features, which he quickly covered with a mask of cool indifference. "I'm fine right here actually."
"Next to miss mudblood? Really? Way to downgrade." She curled her lip at Hermione, before turning back to him, a pout on her face.
He raised his eyebrows, leaning back in his chair. "I think you should look up downgrade, Pansy. I think you have the wrong definition."
She looked confused. "No. I don't think so. Anyway, are you coming to sit by me?" She leaned closer to him until she was nearly on the desk.
"Get of the desk, Pansy." Said Hermione quietly, all her anger and exasperation dangerously close to bubbling to the surface.
Pansy hopped on the desk, laughing unkindly. "Look! Miss Mudblood speaks. What'd you say, bitch?"
Hermione turned to her, a dangerous look in her eyes "I said, get off the desk."
Pansy matched her glare. "Honey, I don't know why you're sitting next to my boyfriend, but you need to fuck off, okay?"
"He isn't your boyfriend!" Hermione said, standing up, all the anger and exasperation she'd been feeling overflowing like a volcano. "He doesn't like you, now get the hell of the desk and leave the rest of us alone, okay?"
For about twenty seconds Pansy just stood there, and incredulous look on her face. "Fine, bitch. But this is not over." She flounced off back to the group of Slytherins huddled in the corner.
Hermione sat slowly back into her chair, trying to ignore the curious stares of her classmates. She didn't know what had come over her, but she plenty sure that she wanted nothing more to sink into the floor.
She turned, to see Draco Malfoy staring at her with a mixture of confusion, surprise, and what looked a lot like awe. "What?" She snapped at him.
"Nothing." He turned back to his book, a small smile on his delicate features.
Hermione opened her mouth to press him, but at that moment Slughorn entered the classroom. "In you seats please, all of you! Everyone open to page 142. Read the page and and complete the potion. Bring a vial up to my desk when you're done."
She sighed, looking down at her book and reading the curling black writing at the top.
'Befuddlement Draught," it read. 'A type of potion which causes the drinker to become belligerent and reckless.' She read over the instructions. It was a fairly simple potion, something she was immensely grateful for. She wasn't sure she could concentrate properly sitting next to Draco and his impeccable distracting skills.
About twenty minutes later, the entire room was filled with the warm fumes of lovage and mint. Hermione's potions was coming along quite well, though judging from Lavender's admiring squeals, Ron and Harry were doing just fine by themselves. It was the Half Blood Prince's damn book. She was of half a mind to turn them in for cheating. They certainly deserved it.
She clenched her teeth in frustration, stirring her potion vigorously. There was a light sheen of sweat forming on her forehead and she took a moment to pull her curly mop of hair back and roll up her sleeves. The dungeons were usually cold, and yet Hermione found she was overheated. She looked over at Draco, and noticed he was still wearing his jacket, his sleeves rolled down over his hands.
"Draco aren't you hot? It must be ninety degrees in here."
"No." He replied, not even pausing to look at her.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." He snapped. "I'm fine, ok?"
"Fine." She muttered, magicking a bit of her potion into a vial and bringing it up to Slughorn.
"Oh hello Hermione." Slughorn greeted her cheerfully as she handed over the vial. "Excellent work, excellent."
"Thankyou." She managed a weak smile before returning to her seat, taking the long way as to not have to look at her former best friends. So much for being part of the Golden Trio.
She sat down on her stool, opening her battered copy of Hogwarts, a History to pass the time. Two minutes later, she hadn't read more than a paragraph. It was too noisy and distracting in the classroom, she couldn't concentrate. Besides that, she was worried about Draco. She didn't think she'd ever seen his cheeks so pink. He looked like he was going to pass out.
"Draco?" She asked quietly. "Are you sure you're ok?"
He whirled on her. "Granger, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
"You know I do feel a bit ill." He said with a glare. He raised his hand, adopting in a injured tone. "Slughorn I'm not feeling well. Do you mind if I go see Madam Pomfrey?"
Slughorn looked up. "Of course, of course. Who would like to accompany Mr. Malfoy to the Hospital Wing?"
Pansy's hand shot up faster than even Hermione Granger thought possible. "I'll take him, sir."
Slughorn completely ignored her. "Granger, you're done, why don't you take him."
No. No way am I voluntarily going into an empty hallway with Draco Malfoy. No way. "Yes, sir."
"Quickly, Granger." Malfoy said snidely, shouldering his bag. "We don't want me keeling over do we?"
Hermione scowled, picking up her bag and following him out into the pleasant coolness of the hall. He strode ahead of her, taking turn after turn. "Malfoy the infirmary isn't this way!" She protested as he turned up a staircase.
"I know. I'm not sick, Granger. I'm not going."
He certainly looked sick. He was still as attractive as ever, but in the week since Hermione had last seen him, his eyes had become even more sunken, and his skin taken on a grayish pallor. He looked like something was eating away at him.
"You look sick."
He whirled. "Excuse me? I look just fine."
"No you don't." She said quietly, suddenly afraid he was going to do something rash. "You look ill. And tired. Like you haven't slept in days."
The mask of anger fell from his face, and was replaced by a sort of vulnerability and fear that Hermione had never seen before. "I haven't."
"I don't understand you, Draco Malfoy." She sighed. "You do all of this pretending. You're a very good actor actually. It's hard to tell when you're pretending and when you aren't."
"I know. It's part of being a Malfoy." He sighed, leaning up against the railing. "We do a lot of pretending."
"So how do I know you aren't pretending now?" She asked, leaning on the railing opposite him.
"You don't. I guess you just have to trust me." He smiled wryly, sticking his hands in his pockets.
The stood in silence for a while, before Hermione spoke up. "Draco can I see your arm?"
"No." She could almost see his walls go back up.
She took a step forward, reaching and taking his left hand. He pressed his lips together, looking pained. "You really don't want to do that." He said, but didn't stop her.
Hermione moved her hands up his pale skin and found his cuff, pushing it back until his entire forearm was visible. She paused, looking up to meet his stormy gray eyes. They weren't hostile, only tired and unbelievably sad. "Do it." He whispered.
She nodded, turning his arm over to expose the black mark beneath. It was like a scar, marring his perfect alabaster flesh with its dark swirling lines. "It's awful." She said before she could stop herself.
"I know." He replied, his eyes closed as if he couldn't bear to look at it.
She reached up, running her fingers over it. He shivered at the touch, goosebumps rising on his arm. "I'm so sorry Draco." She whispered, drawing back her hands and letting his arm fall back down to his side. A sudden awkwardness sprung up between them, and Hermione looked shyly down at the ground. "I- I better go. Slughorn might have assigned homework..."
"Of course." She turned away and was almost down the steps when a voice called her back.
"Hermione?"
"Yes?" She turned back to Draco. He looked almost angelic in the torchlight, like Lucifer, thrown down from heaven.
"Thankyou."
She smiled. "You're welcome, Draco." And she turned back toward the potions classroom, trying to ignore the butterflies frolicking in her stomach.
xxx
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