Draco

Draco returned to the common room feeling satisfied and yet slightly mystified.

He plonked down on the green Slytherin couch and smirked at Blaise.

'So?' Blaise asked not even raising his eyes from his book.

'I bet you that by tomorrow they won't be talking.'

'Oh really? How'd you manage that?'

'I freaked Granger out, I acted completely unexpected and now when Weasley tries to talk to her she'll be shaken up and he'll know that something happened but she won't say a thing because she's too stubborn, so as a result he'll get angry. Not to mention I planted… well, lets just say Ron won't be happy."

Blaise looked at Malfoy for a moment with his eyebrow raised. "Scary how well you know her, really. Well, we'll see tomorrow won't we?'

Draco brushed off his comment, 'And you?'

Blaise grinned. 'Daphne was fantastic. Hand it over.'

Draco rolled his eyes handing over 10 galleons. 'You're the worst. A real womaniser. How'd you do it? Daphne was a prude for sure.'

'Never judge a book by its cover. Let's just say she has a thing for big…. smiles.' He grinned flashing his brilliant teeth.

'Don't worry I'll be taking those galleons back soon enough.'

It wasn't really about the money for these two, it was the act of betting they worried about, they were both loaded enough without the extra but it was the delicious smell of a challenge that they couldn't resist.

Blaise of course had just been dared to bed Daphne Greengrass and Draco had the challenge of making Granger and Weasley fight, although not much of a challenge in his opinion.

Although he hadn't intended on actually touching her, that had just sort of happened…

Deep down he'd stopped caring about the whole Mudblood filth thing, it was especially no use now that the Dark Lord was dead but using the word still irked her immensely, hence the reason to keep using it.

He'd trying being kind to her at the beginning of the year, after the war... but she never said anything about his actions that day, during the final battle, never thanked him. It was almost as though she'd forgotten, which considering the amount of pain Bellatrix had been inflicting on her, was entirely possible...

And so he'd gone back to treating her the way he always had.

And what the hell happened today?

She'd blacked out in his arms. She was either extremely shocked by his behaviour or she'd had a complete lack of oxygen.

'It's a shame she woke up so soon. She looked so pretty.'

Blaise blinked. 'Pardon?'

Draco turned to him changing the subject as quickly as possible. His mind turned to the Gryffindors' small frame.

'Is it just me or has Granger gotten rather skinny lately?'

Blaise nodded. 'A little, yeah, I recon so.'

Draco sighed, he wasn't going mad, he really had been able to wrap his arm rather easily around her, and she'd been very light to pick up.

'Must be the stress of being a know it all.'

Hermione

Hermione charged into the common room.

What the fuck was that?

Some sick joke no doubt.

Ron looked up from the fire.

'Er, Hermione could I get some help with this potions assignment?'

'Do it yourself,' She snapped, her mind was too full of confusing thoughts to focus on a potions assignment.

'Geez Hermione what happened to you?' Asked Ron, surprise lacing his tone.

'Nothing,' she seethed. 'Maybe if you'd stayed to help me with the prefect papers for once, I wouldn't have had to work so hard.'

Ron raised his eyebrows. 'Just trying to help Hermione, don't get your knickers in a twist.'

'Well you certainly didn't help me just now did you? Why don't you go help Lavender unzip her pants?'

Hermione had no idea how that had slipped out.

Ron gaped. 'Hermione I-'

'Just do your work Ronald, I'm going to bed!' She stormed over to her dormitory stairs.

Ron yelled after her, 'Maybe I will go help Lavender then, at least her hair isn't bushy!'

Fuming, Hermione flung herself on her bed as soon as she reached her dorms.

Fuck Ron, he doesn't care. All he wants is help with his homework.

And what the bleep was that with Draco? What the hell came over him?

Has the world gone insane?

Hermione worried her way into a fitful sleep.

She awoke groggily in the early hours of the morning with an owl pecking at her window.

She sprung from her bed not wanting the other girls to wake up. She untied the letter and the owl flew off into the cold blowing wind.

Odd. Why hadn't this owl waited until breakfast to deliver its message?

It was from her mum.

Dear Hermione,

I hope school is going well.

Unfortunately I have some bad news, I wish they had phones there; I'd much prefer you heard it from me and not a bunch of words.

Your father went into hospital last night; the doctors think he might have cancer.
Don't worry about it too much at the moment though. We've decided to keep you at school for now. Your father ttold me this morning; "There's no point her ruining her future career for a silly old man." He's staying positive, so I guess we should as well.

The doctors will inform us if anything does get worse. Just keep up with your work and stay happy. We'll all pray for him as much as we can. Easter holidays are soon enough, we might see you then depending on his condition.

I'm sorry to send this via mail but you had to know. We'll keep you updated. I'm sending you all my love.

Mum

A tear rolled silently down her cheek.

There was no sound except the soft breathing of the other girls. Why wasn't the world screaming in unison to how she felt? How could they just keep sleeping?

She loved her dad.

Unfair.

He's always been so healthy.

Hermione feel back into her bed with a sense of despair washing over her.

Not fair.

It's no good to deny it. Anger will get you nowhere.

And then the tears came in great cascading falls of pain.

And yet the sun still graced her window.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. She felt numb, her cheeks were sticky and her eyes were red but she suddenly felt utterly and completely numb.

She dressed in silence and left the dormitory before the other girls even began to stir.

Hermione wanted it to be Saturday.

Unfortunately this wasn't a Saturday and as clever as she was, she could not control the dates, her weight or the health of her father.

No control.

All through breakfast, she found herself blinking off the tears.

And what the hell am I doing here?

There was no challenge this morning, no temptation of eggs, her appetite was dead.

Dead.

Harry sat beside her smiling.

'Good morning.' He leant in close and whispered into her ear. 'You and Ron aren't fighting again are you?'

Ron sat down on her left.

'Depends.' she murmured.

'Look, Hermione,' said Ron leaning closer. 'I'm sorry.'

'Are you really Ronald or is your potions essay due tomorrow?'

Ron shifted in his seat uncomfortably, 'C'mon Hermione, I just wanted to know what was wrong with you. It's not like anyone died or anything is it? I mean why are you so grumpy?'

Hermione closed her eyes, fighting the urge to flare at his words. She paused for a moment and then-

'You can be so tactless sometimes Ron!' She grabbed her things, narrowly missing Dean's head with her bag and stormed out of the hall.

Ron gaped after her.

'Why is that girl so moody? Look she didn't even eat her breakfast!

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