Hermione found herself walking to dinner that night, her mind feeling rather numb. She wasn't sure how she'd managed to get through the day with how tired she was, but somehow she'd done it. And now she only had to sit through dinner and do her homework and then she could go to bed. Hermione thought that she might be able to get a few more hours of sleep than normal because usually she saw at least one scene from the battle each day and so far... today she had seen none. She was hoping it would be a sign, though she knew that it wouldn't be. There had been a few days over the summer that she hadn't seen a scene and she'd still only gotten three hours of sleep.
The Gryffindor table was full of students, some looking melancholy and some laughing happily. "Coming Hermione?" Harry asked, walking up behind her and offering her a small smile. "Ron and Ginny are already there; they've been spending a lot of time together ever since-well, you know..."
"The battle," Hermione said, nodding slightly. "And Fred,"
"And Fred," Harry agreed quietly, nodding with her.
Hermione sighed; she knew that it was a good thing, Ron and Ginny spending time together, but she wished he would spend time with her. They were supposed to spend time together; they were a couple. They were supposed to be a couple, anyway. She wasn't sure what to classify her relationship with Ron anymore; couples were supposed to hold hands and kiss and talk to each other, not just occasionaly say hello or wave at one another. "They have been spending a lot of time together; that's good," she said calmly.
Harry gave her a sideways glance, his expression worried. "You don't sound normal, did you know?"
"No?" Hermione said, warmth running to her cheeks.
He didn't seem very sure of her answer, but he shrugged. "All right," he said, smiling at her again. "You're right; it is good. I'm glad they're close,"
"Me too," Hermione nodded.
Harry didn't say anything else, because they'd reached the seats where Ron and Ginny were. Harry automatically sat down by Ginny, giving her a much larger smile than the one he'd given Hermione. Hermione took her seat next to Ron, who didn't look at her. Harry and Ginny didn't notice, of course, because they were too busy talking to each other. Hermione glanced down the table, watching her classmates. Neville was talking and laughing with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. Parvati looked the most upset; Hermione knew it was because of Lavender Brown's death.
She took a few bites of food, wishing that she could just leave the Great Hall. But she was sure that would look suspicious to her friends, so she stayed put. It wasn't a good thing to do, she soon realized, because the longer she sat there the more agitated Ron got. Harry and Ginny didn't really realize that either, not until Ron decided to speak. "Do you have to breathe so loud?" he asked angrily, throwing his fork down and glaring at her.
"What?" she asked, confused. She was breathing the same way she had been her entire life; no one had ever complained before. And his complaint was so out of the blue; Hermione was half sure he hadn't know exactly what to complain about but he just wanted to be upset with her.
"I get that you're a show-off, but there are plenty of people who should be breathing instead of you, so if you could not flaunt something for once-"
"Ron, mate, that was uncalled for," Harry said, though he didn't sound angry.
Hermione was still trying to wrap her head around his words. Instead? Did that mean that he'd rather she have died? Tears threatened to spill down her face but she blinked them back, her cheeks flushed. "So you'd prefer it if I'd have died then? Taken someone else's place?"
"Yes!" Ron exclaimed. "Finally, you get it! I'd rather have my brother than you because then I wouldn't have to watch my parents suffer!"
A hush fell over their section of the table as those closest to hear stared at Ron and Hermione. It was the cold voice of Malfoy that broke the silence. "I always knew you were a complete ass, Weasley. Anyway, Granger, I was wondering if you could help me with the Arithmancy essay?"
"Oh, um, all right," Hermione said, trying to keep her composure so she wouldn't start sobbing in front of the entire hall.
"Are you seriously going to choose Malfoy over us?" Ron asked.
"Yes," Hermione answered angrily.
"He's a bloody Death Eater; are you-"
"I really don't care what he is, Ronald," Hermione stated. "He's being a hell of a lot nicer than you right now, so I will go with him. Besides, he apparently needs my help," Hermione stood up and stormed away from her friends and the Gryffindor table. She couldn't believe that Ron would say that to her, after she was almost murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange while at Malfoy Manor, and she couldn't believe that Harry and Ginny have just sat there and listened to him speak. She knew it was stupid to think that they thought the same, yet for half a second... She stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned around to see Malfoy walking behind her. "Which part of the essay did you need help with?"
"Oh, I don't actually need help with any of it,"
Hermione stared at him, trying not to show how hurt she was by Ron's words. She still couldn't believe no one had gotten frustrated by them except for her. "Then why would you ask for my help?"
"You looked upset," he shrugged. "I thought it would be a good idea to get you away from them. It sucks, what Weasley said to you; I've heard that too,"
She wasn't sure what to make of his actions; Malfoy had never really tried to make sure she wasn't upset before and she couldn't understand what had changed, but she didn't get much time to think about it. The corridor had suddenly darkened and Hermione swore that she could hear screams and explosions all over the castle. At the end of the corridor a girl was being attacked; a girl that looked a lot like Lavender Brown. "No," Hermione whispered, her eyes widening with fear. She could barely even comprehend that Malfoy was looking at her like she was crazy, but that didn't really matter to her. "No, no it's not real," she told herself shakily, taking a few cautious steps backwards. She knew that she was just seeing things; she knew that the corridor hadn't actually darkened and that no one was being attacked at the end of the corridor, but she couldn't stop the fear that swelled in her chest.
"Granger?" Malfoy asked curiously. "Granger, what are you talking about?"
She didn't answer, she just stared at the man that was rising from Lavender's body. Her eyes met his, even though she knew he wasn't real, and a second later she was running toward the common room. She heard footsteps following her and, assuming they were the man's-it was Fenrir Greyback that had killed Lavender if she remembered correctly-Hermione began to run faster. At least until she got to the common room. The door slammed shut behind her and she ran across the empty room to her bedroom room, locking the door behind her. "It's not real," she whispered, sinking to the floor as she heard a pounding on her door. Hermione knew it was from the fake Fenrir Greyback that she'd seen, and the thought only made her heart begin to beat faster. "It's not real,"
Hermione had no recollection of closing her eyes, but as she woke with a scream she realized that she must have fallen asleep. She was still by her door in her school robes, and when she saw her clock, she realized it was only eleven at night. She'd gotten three and a half hours of sleep, yet she was still exhausted.
Hermione quickly decided to change in to her pajamas and wrap herself in her blanket on the sofa in the common room. She would do some of the essays from her classes and, if she had time, she would read another novel. Hermione knew that she would read a lot of books over the course of the school year if this was as much sleep as she was going to get. Reading always allowed her to stay awake, even if it did sometimes make her sleepy.
The common room wasn't empty when she entered it. There was blond hair visible over the top of the armchair facing the fire, which made her realize that Malfoy was still awake. She couldn't see Terry or Hannah though, so she knew that they were in their rooms. "You're still awake," she commented, walking over to the sofa and wrapping herself in the blanket and opening one of her textbooks so she could start on her essay.
Malfoy jumped visibly, turning to glare at her. "You didn't have to sneak up on me, Granger," he muttered, turning back to his own textbook. "Are you feeling less crazy now?"
"What?"
"I figure you must be crazy if you're seeing things and running away from them," he explained, his voice bored and cold. "So what was it you saw then?" Hermione stayed silent, her cheeks growing warm as he spoke. He was right; she must be crazy if she kept seeing piece of the battle. "Granger?"
"I saw Lavender Brown being murdered," she said quietly.
Malfoy's head snapped over to her, his eyes confused and curious as he looked at her. "You were back in the battle?"
"For a moment, yes,"
"Does that happen often?"
"I'd rather not talk about it," she stated, turning her page. The hallucinations that she saw were never pleasant, and if she didn't even share them with Harry and Ron then why would she tell Malfoy about them? Yes they'd exchanged a few kinder words since the beginning of the school year and it had been nice of him to- "You were looking at me during dinner; why?" she asked, hoping to change the subject.
"What?" No I wasn't-" he said, his eyes wide and his cheeks pink.
"Yes you were. If you saw me getting upset while talking to Ron then you must have been looking at me. I want to know why,"
"That-I-" Malfoy said, becoming obviously frustrated. "Granger you're-"
"Annoying? You've mentioned that in the past. And if you're thinking about calling me a mudblood, well, I know that's what you think as well," she said, rolling her eyes. She was branded with that word though; it was with her forever. "Now spit it out, Malfoy; I'm just curious,"
"I-I'll tell you if you tell me about how often you see the battle,"
Hermione frowned; he was just like her in a way. She would have tried to make the same deal. "Fine then," she said, nodding. Her curiosity of why he would be looking at her was too great to make her not tell him that she was thrown back into the battle at least once a day.
"You first, Granger,"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, I do see parts of the battle often; every day actually,"
"Why did you run when you saw it today?"
"I didn't agree to answer that,"
"Well do you want my answer or not?" he challenged.
"Would you honestly want to relive the battle?" she asked quietly, hoping that he would accept that as an answer.
Malfoy nodded, looking away from her and back to his textbook. "You're the only person this year that doesn't appear to hate me and treat me like a Death Eater,"
"But why were you looking at me?"
"I just was," he shrugged. "Not everything has to have a reason behind it, Granger," Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes; Malfoy didn't need to tell her that not everything had to have a meaning, she already knew. The common room soon fell to silence besides the sounds of the fire crackling, pages turning, and Hermione's quill on a piece of parchment. Midnight soon passed and Malfoy finally stood up, leaving the common room without a word. Hermione assumed that he'd gone to bed or just felt like getting away from her. She was half sure it was the latter.