When she awoke she hurried down to breakfast with the other Gryffindors.
While they ate a soft flutter of beating wings could be heard overhead.
Without notice, one of the school's owls dropped a white rose in front of Hermione. She picked it completely baffled as to why it was there. She looked for a note or something on it to determine who had sent it and found a little pice of paper that only read:
To: Hermione G.
While she stared at the note in disbelief all of the other Gryffindors started to take notice on what she was holding and they began to question her about it when she looked up.
"Ron did you send her that?" Harry asked in a hushed whisper.
"No, I thought you had."
"No."
"Well who did?" Ron asked
"I don't know."
When Hermione was done she set off to the dungeons were they had potions with the Slytherins.
``````````````
Hermione sat in Professor Snape's room diligently taking notes oblivious to what was happening so she never saw his eyes on her. That was how he wanted it though; he wanted to just be able to stare at her.
He was Draco Malfoy. Son of a Death Eater. On the outside he was Lucius Malfoy's perfect son but on the inside he was a depressed sad person that just wanted to die so he wouldn't have to serve as a Death Eater.
As a child he adored his father. As any child would do. But as he grew older he began to see that his father was nothing more than a power hungry monster that hurt him and his mother. He began to look at things in a different light, his light not his father's.
He stared at Granger. He wanted to know why he was attracted to the filthy mudblood.
No. He thought. "Mudblood" is my father's word.
He felt anger well up inside of him when he tried to understand why he had the urge not to be so vile to her. He didn't want to be nice to her but felt a need to be. He hated this need with every ounce of his energy.
Completely ignoring Professor Snape's lesson he began to write about anything to keep his gaze away from her direction. He let the words come to his fingers instead of thinking about it. He knew that the most meaningful poetry was the kind you didn't think about as you wrote.
"Mr. Malfoy," Came a drawling voice from behind him. "What was I just talking." He said as he trailed off when he discovered Draco trying to hide something from him. "What Is that?" He demanded. "Mr. Malfoy hand it here." He finished.
When Professor Snape took the sheet of parchment away from Draco he held the attention of every student. They waited with a death like quietness for him to speak as he read.
"Interesting, Mr. Malfoy. But this kind of rubbish shall not be attending class with you any longer. I think your father would agree with me. Is that understood?"
Draco merely nodded his head looking at his hands. He wondered why Professor Snape didn't try to curse him, even though he was a Slytherin.
Professor Snape had been acting strangely for the past couple of weeks. Draco couldn't place why, in fact no one could. He had been nicer to the Gryffindors, all the while being viler to the Slytherins.
After Professor Snape got a hold of the poem Draco had written the rest of potions went by without hardly any incident, except for when Neville's potion bubbled out of control to the point where all of it ended up on the floor.
As they left the room Draco carelessly ran into Hermione knocking her to the floor.
"I'm sorry." He said extending his hand out to help her back up into a standing position.
She didn't say anything she just looked at him in disbelief. She didn't grab his hand either, she didn't know wether he wanted to help her or let go of her hand and let her fall. So she looked at him in suspicion.
He saw that doubt displayed on her face.
"Yes, Granger I am capable of saying the "s" word. Now let me help you off of the floor."
"I don't need your help."
She jumped up off of the floor, gathered her things and left the classroom. Only she didn't get everything.
`````````````````````````
Without notice, one of the school's owls dropped a white rose in front of Hermione. She picked it completely baffled as to why it was there. She looked for a note or something on it to determine who had sent it and found a little pice of paper that only read:
To: Hermione G.
While she stared at the note in disbelief all of the other Gryffindors started to take notice on what she was holding and they began to question her about it when she looked up.
"Ron did you send her that?" Harry asked in a hushed whisper.
"No, I thought you had."
"No."
"Well who did?" Ron asked
"I don't know."
When Hermione was done she set off to the dungeons were they had potions with the Slytherins.
``````````````
Hermione sat in Professor Snape's room diligently taking notes oblivious to what was happening so she never saw his eyes on her. That was how he wanted it though; he wanted to just be able to stare at her.
He was Draco Malfoy. Son of a Death Eater. On the outside he was Lucius Malfoy's perfect son but on the inside he was a depressed sad person that just wanted to die so he wouldn't have to serve as a Death Eater.
As a child he adored his father. As any child would do. But as he grew older he began to see that his father was nothing more than a power hungry monster that hurt him and his mother. He began to look at things in a different light, his light not his father's.
He stared at Granger. He wanted to know why he was attracted to the filthy mudblood.
No. He thought. "Mudblood" is my father's word.
He felt anger well up inside of him when he tried to understand why he had the urge not to be so vile to her. He didn't want to be nice to her but felt a need to be. He hated this need with every ounce of his energy.
Completely ignoring Professor Snape's lesson he began to write about anything to keep his gaze away from her direction. He let the words come to his fingers instead of thinking about it. He knew that the most meaningful poetry was the kind you didn't think about as you wrote.
"Mr. Malfoy," Came a drawling voice from behind him. "What was I just talking." He said as he trailed off when he discovered Draco trying to hide something from him. "What Is that?" He demanded. "Mr. Malfoy hand it here." He finished.
When Professor Snape took the sheet of parchment away from Draco he held the attention of every student. They waited with a death like quietness for him to speak as he read.
"Interesting, Mr. Malfoy. But this kind of rubbish shall not be attending class with you any longer. I think your father would agree with me. Is that understood?"
Draco merely nodded his head looking at his hands. He wondered why Professor Snape didn't try to curse him, even though he was a Slytherin.
Professor Snape had been acting strangely for the past couple of weeks. Draco couldn't place why, in fact no one could. He had been nicer to the Gryffindors, all the while being viler to the Slytherins.
After Professor Snape got a hold of the poem Draco had written the rest of potions went by without hardly any incident, except for when Neville's potion bubbled out of control to the point where all of it ended up on the floor.
As they left the room Draco carelessly ran into Hermione knocking her to the floor.
"I'm sorry." He said extending his hand out to help her back up into a standing position.
She didn't say anything she just looked at him in disbelief. She didn't grab his hand either, she didn't know wether he wanted to help her or let go of her hand and let her fall. So she looked at him in suspicion.
He saw that doubt displayed on her face.
"Yes, Granger I am capable of saying the "s" word. Now let me help you off of the floor."
"I don't need your help."
She jumped up off of the floor, gathered her things and left the classroom. Only she didn't get everything.
`````````````````````````