A/N: Here you go! Another chapter. I hope you like it.
Hermione finished scrawling the last words to her letter in the Owlery.
"Don't worry, Mum. Everything is fine at Hogwarts. Give Dad a kiss for me. Love, Hermione."
Of course she felt bad lying to her parents, but it was the only way to keep them safe. If the war ever spread into the Muggle world, Hermione would have to take even more drastic action to protect them. She shuddered at the thought: her parents running, her parents hiding. She hated being away from them even for the terms at Hogwarts, but this would be much, much worse.
She kissed the parchment before she folded it into the envelope. With an affectionate smile, she called down Pigwedgeon. She knew he would be more eager than Hedwig would since it was still very early in the morning. The chipper, noisy ball of feathers finally managed to hold still long enough for Hermione to attach the letter to his leg and send him off. She watched until he was a small pinprick against the sky.
Then she heard a noise behind her and realized that someone had been watching.
Draco had grudgingly climbed the stairs to the Owlery as his stomach growled.
Who the hell sends a letter this early in the morning?
When he reached the top of the stairs, he was slightly out of breath. He rounded the corner into the high-ceiling Owlery, and there she was.
Her presence hit him suddenly, and what little breath he had left him.
The effects of her voice were nothing compared to this.
Not had the whole concept of pain been erased from Draco's memory, but he was overcome by a wonderful sense of belonging. This was where he was supposed to be. It was a feeling he had not felt in years.
No, no, NO!
This couldn't be happening. He had to go to Snape. Surely this was a joke. Lesson learned; accept your orders as soon as they're given to you.
Draco turned to leave, but a jerk from his heart in Hermione's direction stopped him short. At the sound of his breath leaving him all at once, she turned around.
"What're you doing?" She was obviously startled.
With a deep breath, he turned around.
"I hope that letter wasn't important, Granger. Using Weasley's owl practically ensures that it won't reach its destination." A good insult or well-placed flattery never failed to get him out of a sticky situation, and he was not about to use flattery on Granger.
Hermione simply made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat and began to walk towards the exit and Draco.
He side-stepped away from the exit and hastily backed up to a far wall.
"Don't you dare come any closer to me, you Mudblood." The sentence came out harsher than he meant it. The stress from the past twelve hours built up inside of him and it was all too easy to direct his anger at the bushy-haired know-it-all.
She halted, and Draco saw pure fury flash in her eyes.
"Don't come any closer to you?" She asked incredulously. Draco's eyes widened as he comprehended what she was about to do.
Hermione lunged towards him. Draco threw up his hands in defense, but that didn't stop her from grabbing fistfuls of the collar of his robes and pulling his face so close that he could count her freckles if he had a mind to.
"I'm sorry. Am I polluting your precious, Pureblood air?" She shook him forcefully with each syllable.
It was the moment where you couldn't tell if the water is scalding hot or bone-chillingly cold. It was the moment where you couldn't tell if a sensation was a pleasant tickle or a twinge of pain. The moment of indistinction between pleasure and pain. Desire and disgust.
Draco wanted nothing more than for the nest of bushy hair that was currently in his face to be light years away from his person. On the other hand, it just felt so right…
"NO!" He yelled at his runaway thoughts. Moving to solidify his protest, he twisted himself out of Granger's grip and pushed himself up against the far wall.
As soon as he was out of her reach, Hermione snapped out of her rage-induced trance and looked at Draco with an expression he easily recognized: remorse. But this was a different remorse than he had seen staring back at him through a mirror all sixth year or etched on his parents' faces. No, this was the remorse untainted by self-pity and self-loathing.
"I-I'm sorry," she said, not meeting his eyes this time. "I don't know what—"
"Have you gone barking mad, Granger?" Draco couldn't help himself. It was old habit now. "You better watch your step next time, or—"
"Or what?" Her eyes snapped back to him. He saw a flicker of her previous anger and braced himself for another onslaught, but she backed down and quietly turned to leave.
At the doorway she paused.
"I pity you."
The words were spoken so softly that Draco hardly believed she said them. By the time he looked up, she was gone.
Idiotic. Completely juvenile to let my temper get away from me like that.
The encounter was brief, but Hermione could not believe how rashly she had behaved. Years of anger held against Draco, against anyone who judged her or would hold her back because of her birth, came bubbling forth in a split second. It had to be the cabin fever she was getting in this prison. The oppression she felt as the Death Eaters breathed down their necks during mealtimes and every hour in between was becoming unbearable. Not to mention the fact that the last time she saw Malfoy's loathsome blonde head, he was torturing her.
"Have you gone barking mad, Granger?"
Yes, she thought in reply. It's certainly starting to feel like it.
Hermione sidled into her spot at the Gryffindor table next to Harry and across from Ron.
"You alright, Hermione?" Ron asked. She hadn't given herself enough time to de-fluster.
"Perfectly fine," she lied.
"Alright. I was just telling Ron how Luna's told me about the Lost Dia-thingy of Ravenclaw."
"The Lost Diadem," Hermione supplied easily.
"Right. I figure it's worth a shot," Harry continued. "Of course, we're going to have to break in to their common room. It'll be a risk, but we knew…"
Hermione didn't hear the rest of Harry's speech because, at that moment, an equally flustered blonde boy entered the Great Hall and took his place at the Slytherin table. She was reminded again of all her feelings in the Owlery: how fed up she was with everything. In the days to come, she regretted the frustration that prompted her to say her next words.
"Let's do it tonight."
A/N: Yay! Another chapter down! As always, thank you for even making it through to the end. If you like it, tell me (by reviewing)! If you hate it, tell me also (in a nice way, by reviewing).