Hermione was anxious and jittery all night, resulting in horrible sleep. Her two best friends could hardly help but notice her increase in strange behavior. She scarcely talked all night as they tried to chat with her in the common room, and she didn't seem to be able to think right, or at all. They kept asking her something and she wouldn't answer. Rather, she'd be staring at a mark on the ground with her mouth slightly open. When they forced her to talk she would mumble vaguely, "What? Yesss," or try a poor excuse for her behavior like, "Lots to think about. I mean exams, I mean…wait, yeah, exams." If she didn't look stupid enough, her manner made up for it. "Got to go," she murmured as she had suddenly decided to go to bed. "Lots to do, I mean sleep. Sleep."
"Alright," yawned Ron as she made her way up her way up the stairs. She bumped into a fifth year, apologized hazily, and suddenly bolted for her room. After she had shut her door and Harry and Ron had stopped staring curiously, Ron turned to Harry. "What's gotten into her?" he said quizzically.
"Yeah," Harry agreed, also sounding distant.
"I mean, I've never seen her so-I dunno-dumb." Harry tutted; he had picked up Hermione's habit. "I know," Ron said exasperatedly. "But, come on, Harry you saw her. Did she say a word-one word-of sense?"
"No…she didn't."
Hermione lay in her bed, her legs pushed together more than normal, with her hands in a grasp in front of her. She was staring at the four-poster above her, with a troubled look on her face. It had been an hour since she had lain down on her bed. Still, she had yawned once. She let out a sigh and Lavender stirred, but did not wake.
'Ok,' she thought to herself. 'Let's just organize everything.' She was trying to arrange her thoughts and renourish her mind. 'Ok. I fancy Malfoy.' She winced at her confession. 'But I can get over that. I can eliminate that, I can control that. It's the incident that I can't erase.' She screwed up her face trying hard to suddenly discover a brilliant plan, but nothing happened. 'I have to find him alone…dammit, why can't Crabbe and Goyle ever go off by themselves? Head Boy! I can get him on Head Boy/Girl business.' She practiced in her mind. 'Malfoy? I need to speak to you about Dumbledore's orders.' The setting in her mind changed. 'Malfoy, I just want to say that last night was completely not me. Look, let's just forget it, ok? We both know it was nothing.' And then she thought, 'Don't we?' Her eyes brimmed with tears. She felt so ashamed, what if Harry or Ron found out? 'They'd hate me. Even I hate me.' She slowly realized that she wasn't ashamed of fancying Malfoy in and of itself. It wasn't that in particular that made her feel suppressed under guilt. It was that she liked Malfoy, when it was so clear she shouldn't. Harry and Ron. They would risk their lives for her…and here she was, 'Fraternizing with the enemy…again.' But this time it wasn't just school pride in their way, or that Victor Krum had been competing against Harry. But it was Malfoy this time. Draco Malfoy, their worst enemy. Not to mention, the darkest more evil hater of muggleborns.
In the Slytherin common room, a few first years were talking tiredly as sixth years went up to bed. A blond boy with pale skin entered the room, and looked around. He made his way up the stairs, and reached for a door. A hand beat him to it, and he looked sideways and Pansy Parkinson.
"What do you want," he snapped, ill-temperedly.
She had a weird grin on her face. She took his hand and slinked it around it his waist as she leaned up to kiss him. He didn't jerk back, merely tolerating her. Pansy moved her other arm around his neck and teased him with her tongue. His eyes closed, automatically. His arm moved to the small of her back as she continued to kiss him. She ran her hand up his chest slowly, where it also curled around his neck to join her other hand. She giggled charmingly as his hand moved to her chest. After pressing her tongue deep into him, she drew away, smiling in a satisfied way as he eyes blinked open and he looked slightly dazed. She walked away, using a sort of flirty, voluptuous kind of stride, slinking her hips about.