Chapter 6 – Comfort

After the smash-up with Granger, Crabbe and Goyle kept giving him suspicious glances, when they thought he didn't notice it. They went on all through Flitwick's charms lesson, and afterwards on their way back to the Slytherin common room. At the end it irked him so much that he made a quick turn with his head, so the his eyes met Goyle's before he got to look away. "What…is it?!" Draco hissed and scowled from one of his henchmen to the other.

Crabbe scraped with his foot on the floor. Draco thought that he looked like an overgrown child, who'd been caught in stealing a cookie. "It's just that Granger-girl," he faltered. "How come you're suddenly being so nice to her?"

"Yeah," Goyle mumbled. "One would almost think that you two have become… friends?"

Draco looked surprised about their sudden perception, but he quickly composed himself.

Most of all he felt like saying "yes, I think we are, actually", but in stead he burst into a scornful laugh. "Granger!? Are you mad? Why would I want to be friends with that filthy, disgusting… MUDBLOOD!?"

'Because she's wonderful,' a voice within him said, but he just kept laughing. Crabbe and Goyle were convinced, and started to laugh too. The group went on, unaware of the girl who'd been hiding behind a statue representing a small, fat wizard with a handlebar moustache.

Hermione held her breath and tried to concentrate on standing still without making a single sound, and listen to the boys. Now and then she sent them a glance over the shoulder of the statue.

She couldn't really hear what they were saying, because Crabbe and Goyle both were mumbling. Then Malfoy started to laugh derisively, exclaiming: "Granger!? Are you mad? Why would I want to be friends with that filthy, disgusting… MUDBLOOD!?"

Hermione bit her lip until they were gone. Them she collapsed sobbing behind the statue.

As she entered the heads' common room that evening, Draco was sitting in one of the great armchairs doing some homework. He looked up from the book about transfiguration spells. "I've been waiting forever, Granger. Where have you…" he stopped as he spotted her eyes. They were a little red, and she had a thin, black streak of mascara down her cheek.

"What's wrong?"

She sniffled just once. Then she loudly slammed a heap of paper, briefcases and books on the table. "Nothing," she snarled. "Let's get going I really want to get it over with as fast as possible!"

"Something is wrong with you. You seem angry," he objected, moving towards her. "Do you want to talk…?"

She cut him off. "No!" she sneered and opened the first briefcase. "Why don't you just stop the masquerade, Malfoy?"

"What are you talking about!?"

"You know what I'm talking about. Stop acting like you like me, we both know that you don't!"

She found a quill and started going through a journal about the students' mad pranks on the last trip to Hogsmeade.

Hermione stared fixedly at the numbers in the journal, denying herself to look up.

He didn't answer her, but after what seemed like forever, she felt a soft hand grasping her right hand, stopping her from writing. She sat stock-still, fixing her look to a point in front of her at the back wall of the room. Then she felt his hair tickle her cheek, and his breath in her ear as he whispered: "Stop writing, and come here."

Automatically her hand let go of the quill. She could feel how her entire body froze with fear.

What would he do to her? Did he know that she'd been listening to his conversation with Crabbe and Goyle? She was so afraid; you never knew what Malfoy could do.

But he just pulled her up and led her towards the armchairs. He pushed her down in one of them, and sat down opposite her. Then he just looked judging at her. "Why do you think that?" he said.

Hermione blinked a couple of tears away and whispered: "I heard you. I heard what you told Crabbe and Goyle this afternoon." She blushed.

He looked at her with something that seemed to be despair in his eyes. Then he stretched his arm out, and laid it gentle on her cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I really, really am."

Draco found himself unable to make his mouth and body obey his mind. He just kept talking to her, touching her face unendingly. The only thing he really wanted to do was to comfort her; it was – after all – his fault that she was crying. But he couldn't do this! He had to stop, before anything happened…

But at the same time as all these thoughts flew through his head, his entire body felt like screaming that he needed to kiss her.

"Hermione, I…"

She looked up; directly into his eyes. "You just called me Hermione?"

She was right. What a fool he was! He blushed and cleared his throat. "I… I meant Granger!"

For the first time she smiled a little. She took his hand. They sat like that for a while; in silence.

"What were you about to say?" she asked, and made him thereby blush again.

"Uhm… Nothing! It wasn't important… Actually… I already forgot it." He could see in her eyes that she knew he was lying. But she didn't say anything.

"We… probably should get down to work, so that we won't have to sit up the whole night." She laughed nervously, let go of his hand and got up. He followed her towards the table, and took a heap of paper and a quill. Somewhere deep inside him it riled him that no more had happened between them.