The Harry Potter universe and its characters are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. By using them below I am in no way claiming ownership.

Hermione was humiliated. Ron and Harry had clearly shown their distaste, blanking her as they passed in the corridor. She supposed their negative reaction was understandable. She could understand anger after all, they had hated Malfoy since first year - and not without reason. It was Ginny's words which had stung the most, however. Draco's played you like a fool. The statement had been laced with pity and regret, as if Ginny could have saved Hermione from herself. The whole situation didn't seem real somehow, but the curious and horrified glances which had been thrown Hermione's way since then confirmed it. Fighting back tears, she ran from the entrance of the great hall and back to her sanctuary.

The Gryffindor common room was empty, to her relief, with most of the students happily tucking into their breakfasts below. She collapsed into the chair beside the fire and stared hard at the embers, willing her tears to stay hidden. How could I have been so stupid? Re-examining their time together, she realised Malfoy had said as much to her in the library. 'I can't believe you're meant to be the smartest girl in our year,' she repeated. Had he been mocking her all along?

Then the doubt came - the all-consuming, selfish doubt. If he hated me so much, he wouldn't have let me get close to him. He kissed me back in the broom cupboard. He didn't kick me out of his dormitory. He was nice to me...

Nice? The negative voice in her head responded. He's a Malfoy. He doesn't know the meaning of the word. This has all just been some big game to him, seeing how far he could push you, how much he could humiliate you. You're pathetic.

But sometimes, the way she thought he looked at her...

Exactly! How you thought he looked at you! Hermione's face crumpled up and she felt the first tear roll down her cheek. You were a fool to trust him.

Now everything was ruined. How could Harry ever forgive her? How could Ron?

Neville suddenly appeared on the dormitory stairs, tripping on the penultimate step and narrowly avoiding a coffee table. Hermione was shocked out of her pity-party, and quickly rubbed away the water from her cheeks. Neville straightened himself up and brushed off his robes as if nothing had happened, then paused when he spotted Hermione. 'Oh, hello,' he offered cheerfully. 'Is breakfast cancelled?'

'I'm not feeling well,' she admitted. If Neville had already heard the news somehow, he showed no sign of it.

'I slept in. Forgot to put an alarm on.'

'Could you perhaps tell the teachers I won't be in class, and get my assignments?' Neville nodded cheerfully.

'Sure. You really do look terrible, now I see. Well,' he said, still smiling, 'bye then.'

'Bye Neville.'

Hermione allowed herself no more time to mope once Neville had left, and instead used the morning to catch-up on the work she expected to miss in that days' classes - plus a little extra besides. By throwing herself into her studies she was able to suppress the conflicting emotions, a practice she was becoming increasingly comfortable with.

A tapping at the windowpane knocked her out of her rhythm. She clambered from her bed and over to the windowpane, abandoning the Ancient Runes essay, and opened the narrow entrance. Hedwig, Harry's owl, dropped a dead mouse through the gap and gave her a smug hoot. Hermione grimaced, but tried to sound grateful. 'Ah, thank you, Hedwig.' The owl cocked its head at her, then with a slight turn to face the breeze, relaxed itself into a snooze. An idea suddenly struck Hermione.

How dare Malfoy think himself better than me. If he wants to play, then fine - I'll play. I'll play and I'll win.