For weeks Hermione had honed the art of avoiding Malfoy. Not that he was making it particularly difficult for her, but still. They would run into each other in the hallways, once in a while. He was always shadowed by his bodyguards and she had Harry and Ron. Insults were thrown, like so many times before, but he had not once dared to call her a mudblood.
Then there were the classes they followed together, Charms, Potions and Ancient Runes. Hermione always sat at the front, while Draco often kept to the back seats. Sometimes she thought she could feel him looking at her, only, whenever she turned around his eyes were averted.
Hermione left lunch early to head to classroom 6A; she had a few questions to ask Professor Bathsheda Babbling so she'd be prepared for the upcoming Ancient Runes assignment. She entered the classroom, books clutched to her chest and looked for the Professor.
Draco saw her the same moment she noticed him sitting on his desk. They both froze, not knowing what to do. This was the very situation Hermione had been trying to avoid for weeks. She and Malfoy, together, in an otherwise abandoned space. So she turned around like she just realized she had forgotten her quill and was about to walk out when she heard him call her name.
"Hermione," he said. No 'Granger', no 'Little Miss Perfect' and there was none of his usual sneer. Just Hermione, said softly, like a friend would, maybe.
She turned around just in time to see him graciously hop off his desk.
"I thought we could … talk," he mumbled. While he moved closer Hermione noticed the dark circles underneath his eyes.
"You've got nothing to worry about, I didn't tell," she assured him, not knowing what else he could want from her.
"Not about... that. I mean, well, maybe it is about that. But not like you'd think it would be," he staggered, trying to convey his meaning without sounding like a complete idiot. Obviously it hadn't worked. He tried again.
"I just wanted to talk about -" They were cut short by the group of loudly talking students entering the room. "Never mind," he said quickly and shot away, leaving Hermione quite baffled in the middle of the aisle.
"Watch it!" A sneer and a push sure got Hermione's attention back to reality and she glared at the girl in question, Pansy Parkinson, who went to sit next to Draco and immediately started chatting, her voice way more pleasant than before. Hermione shook her head in disbelief and went to sit at her usual table, not noticing the sorrowful glance Draco shot in her direction.
At the end of the class she had received no less than two frogs and an origami bird.
I meant what I said, the first one read.
We should talk, the second suggested.
The third only read a simple 'please', and the bird had been given very said eyes.
Professor Babbling had already glanced disapprovingly in her direction twice so she didn't dare send an answer back to Draco. He'd have to be patient.
Turned out, not so surprising perhaps, that patience wasn't one of Draco's virtues. As she walked down the hallway she suddenly got pulled in what appeared to be the trophy room
"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" she spat, immediately knowing who the culprit was.
"You didn't answer any of my messages," he said accusingly.
"I didn't want to lose any points."
"Do you really think that's important, right now?" They both glared at each other, and to Hermione this was way more comfortable than that awkward talk. She knew this side of Malfoy. He was being an ass and this justified her hatred for him.
"You said you wanted to talk, well... Out with it." She had grown rather curious over the past hour. What could be so important for him to send two frogs and a bird. Those things were a pain to fold.
"Not like this." He shook his head disappointedly and walked away. Once again leaving Hermione rather bewildered.
"Does Peeves sense troubles between these two love birds?" Hermione turned around. Peeves sat comfortably in one of the bigger Quidditch cups, a wicked grin spread across his face.
"Oh, fuck off," she told him, irritated. That turned out to be a mistake and she ducked just in time for the trophy that got hurled to her head.
That evening, after some careful consideration, she sent word to Malfoy, 09.45 pm, classroom 3C. It was close to her broom closet, did she need a place to hide.
She sat in the Gryffindor common room nervously eyeing the hands of the clock.
"'Mione, are you alright? You seem a bit distracted," Ron remarked. Hermione, quite surprised he had noticed, nodded. Lavender was sitting next to him, very hard trying to regain his attention.
Hermione didn't mind Ron having a girlfriend, but that girl sure was needy. She would know, she had shared a room with her for the past six years. Lavender, Parvati and Hermione, the three Gryffindor girls had been sharing a room ever since they got here. Lavender had always been jealous of her friendship with Ron, and to her surprise it hadn't gotten any better since they'd started going out together. On the contrary, it seemed to be getting worse. She didn't like Hermione helping him, she didn't like Hermione sitting next to him. Everywhere she turned Lavender tried to stand between her and Ron. She had even tried to invite herself to the Burrow during the holidays, but Molly wouldn't hear anything of it. With the Order of the Phoenix dropping in and out she couldn't have a love struck teenage girl running about. Hermione was sure she had seen Ron sigh in relief.
Lavender and Ron, who were now on top of each other, seemed to have forgotten Hermione was still there.
"I'll leave you two to it, then," she packed her books and left for the stairs.
"Wait, where are you going?" Ron asked, a little desperate. Hermione didn't answer, he could handle his own girlfriend. She left without feeling any guilt. She had her own demons to face tonight.
In the mirror of her room she once again checked her appearance. Should she wear her uniform or informal clothing. Hair up or down. White trainers or brown boots. She eyed Lavender's make-up held in a basket next to the mirror. Her hand reached out to the mascara. She pulled back. Who was she kidding?
In the end she decided on normal clothing, nothing fancy. Malfoy was not someone she needed to dress up for. He was just Malfoy.
'Then why did you kiss him,' her mirror image whispered back to her.
"It was a mistake, he knows that," Hermione mumbled.
'Does he?'
Hermione turned away from her image and made her way downstairs. Did he?