Back in the dreamland Weasley house, Hermione struggled out of her room still in her nightgown and looking awful with her neglected hair and harassed face. The adult Hermione groggily walked downstairs into the crowded kitchen, seeing the back of her husband. "What is it?" she asked, sensing something wrong.
She sat down at the table, taking a glass of stale water while waiting for Ron to answer; which he didn't. After waiting another moment Hermione prompted him. Ron swung around with a grim look on his face. "What's this?" he asked, holding up a picture of a pale-faced, blond boy in Slytherin robes. Mid-sip, Hermione froze as she stared at the picture. But it was becoming foggy and instead of the warm Weasley house a stone castle was draining into place.
Hermione blinked a few times as her head throbbed with the task of removing such a steadfast dream. Finally, her eyes focused somewhat on the canopy above her. So she had another dream. But this time, before the dream slipped through her memory, she grasped the meaning.
She tried to turn over but it only made her head sting more. So she rested back, pondering the meaning of her dream. She tried to think of something else but her headache wouldn't let her. A knot tied in her stomach as she confronted the dream. 'So, I'm still hung up on betraying my friends.' She sighed with disgust at her thoughts. Words like 'backstabbed' and 'untrustworthy' kept poking at the sides of her vulnerable heart. 'Just break it off; it's so simple.' 'But I don't want to.' 'Of course I do.' Hermione whined as she turned over, forgetting that it made her head pound and earning herself a nastily rough sleep.
"Malfoy," called a sharp voice nearby the Slytherin common room.
The boy with milky-white skin, strapping shoulders and a confident smirk turned slowly around to watch the girl who felt so spurned.
"Where are you going?" Pansy asked, taking quick steps towards him.
He grinned. "Go away, Pansy."
"What?" she snapped, pulling roughly on his shoulder to prevent him from turning his back on her. "You wouldn't want the whole school to know about your little endeavors with Miss Mudblood now would you?" She didn't scare Draco. What was she going to do? He just tried to draw back again; but Pansy wasn't giving up. A low feeling almost like being degraded had been swelling in her. With a subtle indignation written in her slyly-protected face she uttered, "Don't walk away from me."
Draco gave her another coolly disbelieving stare; still acting light but he began to understand traces that Pansy may be reaching an edge. He stared a little at her, trying to analyze her which was hard since the two were experts at hiding emotionally. Still trying to convince himself it was a little joke, Draco tried to leave again for the Great Hall but Pansy pulled him back. Only this time did he recognize how tough her tug was. "…Pansy…" He looked back at her eyes which were ice cold, static and were completely and dangerously void of any humor.
She opened her mouth slightly and exhaled a few livid breathes. She tried to speak but words were coming very hard to her. "I-" Pansy closed her eyes to block everything out and come up with some sensible words. "What-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you?"
Her choice had been so unexpected that normally Draco would have laughed. But when her eyes reopened and he was hit again by her stare, he could only accept that amenity wasn't apart of the conversation. Draco was slowly walking away from her with narrowed eyes, still unable to figure her out. He guessed a few feeling she might be emanating but the only that was sure in his mind was that he wanted to leave. Pansy watched him retreat with her fixated eyes.
As Hermione walked past the Slytherin table she felt chills go down her spine, and not the normal exciting vibes she received from Draco. She felt as if eyes were watching her, so she looked over. A few pairs of eyes here and there stood out as following her, but none were the source of her intuition. Hermione looked over at the Gryffindor table and saw that Harry and Ron were talking animatedly, not suspecting any foul play from her.
History of Magic, with the Slytherins. Hermione sat tensely in her back row seat next to Ron who was between her and Harry. She twiddled her quill a bit, waiting for Professor Binns to enter. The class was filling up quickly and she saw Draco sit next to his two taller friends though he didn't make eye contact with her once. Fine. It was fine. She tried to focus on the previous notes. But she couldn't, and they were horribly written notes anyways. '400 A.D.…da Vinchi's discovery…later…Italians…' Her notes were looking more like Ron's everyday, and finally it was starting to annoy her.
The power of someone's stare brought her attention to the right of the room, second row. She met a pair of muddy-green eyes glaring right at her from the devious face of Pansy. Pansy's eyes almost looked as if she didn't see Hermione, or at least she didn't see Hermione staring back. They were focused in an unnatural way. Hermione quickly recovered and ignored Pansy with a flick of her hair as Ron addressed her. The students quieted fairly as their ghost teacher entered through the blackboard.
Pansy didn't notice that the Mudblood looked back. She was in a strange mix of aspiration and reality. She was still glaring over at the girl, but as class began Pansy resumed pretending to be paying attention. Instead of listening, she roamed around in her fantasies; all of them being her triumphant defeat of Granger. An eerie grin slowly spread on her face, as she had forgotten to maintain the 'serious-student' pose. She imagined the several hundred ways, most being completely realistic, she could crush Hermione mercilessly. They varied from a physical win to a social one. Either way, she could sit there and be happier imagining them then listening to Binns.
A new vision of her somehow framing Hermione for cheating, exposing it, and watching Hermione loose her cherished Head Girl position formed indistinctly. "I might even have a chance at being Head Girl myself," she assumed, quite wrongly. She took a quick stare back at the naïve Hermione, turning away quickly with a small smile.
"Ron…Ron, wake up," Harry hissed. Hermione struggled to stay attentive to the lesson, even though all sorts of distractions she had never felt before were poking at her tired brain. Dimly listening to Ron and Harry bicker, Hermione decided to droop her head down on her desk.
She was walking away to Arithmancy, which meant she was alone, when she collided with something hard. "Ow!" she snapped, ill-tempered, and looking up to see what she hit. "Malfoy…What a surprise," she said, cleverly hiding her emotion as he always did. "What are you doing here, you don't have this class."
"How would you know what class I'm in?"
"I know you're not in this one."
The two stared at each other for a minute; Hermione with curiosity and Draco with a hidden glee, somewhere between amusement and delight. After nothing happened Hermione growled and pushed him aside. Taking her arm, Draco pulled her in close and felt her give in immediately. Hermione didn't realize how quickly she caved. She felt his familiar tongue explore inside of her and she let herself indulge in the rush. Her hands ran over him and she felt her submission dissolve into an equal exhilaration. The thrill was building up in her chest and she tried to let some of it escape with a soft moan.
That may or may not have called the attention of the person who was remaining stationary down the hall. Hermione's heart dropped when she heard the exasperating footsteps. She didn't think she could bear another interruption. "Draco!" someone called, wondering where he was.
Draco froze up as he recognized the voice. Almost before the person rounded the corner she felt herself being pushed into the unlocked door nearby before she realized what was happening. As Hermione found herself in a world of dusty darkness she cursed herself for being so stupid, feeling jittery from the adrenaline.
"…Draco," she heard a cool and still confused voice. Her eyes screwed up, trying to connect the voice with its speaker.
"Yes?" he answered, rather a little rough for someone who was usually so comfortable with covering something up. Hermione could tell he was awkwardly slanted against the closet door.
"…What are you doing here?" The sudden connection of Pansy Parkinson sparked in Hermione's mind and made a suitable match for the voice.
"N-Nothing. Why are you here?"
"…"
"…"
"…What's up?"
"Aren't you late for class?"
"Aren't you?"
"I don't need to go to class," Draco said, still not making much sense.
"Just tell her to go!" hissed Hermione. She jumped back as the closet door shook from Draco's elbow.
Pansy eyed the closet he was leaning against with careful suspicion. "Why don't you walk me to class?"
"C-Maybe I don't want to."
"Draco…"
"PANSY, shouldn't you be running off now?" he said, shouting her name to cover Hermione's cough.
Pansy, a little shook, carefully walked away, turning to look back at him occasionally until she vanished around the corner.
Draco grinned and pulled the closet open as soon as she disappeared and helped Hermione out as the two giggled silently from the relief of not being caught. She fell into his arms, laughing as quietly as she could. It was a strange thing; to be laughing with a Slytherin.
"Draco, one more thing," Pansy suddenly added, turning the corner.
Draco and Hermione froze; Hermione still in his arms. Pansy froze too, appalled at the site. Neither Draco nor Hermione could say anything. They just watched Pansy stutter furiously. After a humiliated second, Pansy took a step back which lead to her dashing down the hall.
"I…better be off to class," Hermione excused herself.
"Yeah...I better be off to see where Pansy went."
She felt Draco's arm fall away as she walked up the hall, and two smiled at each other. Hermione felt something different about their departure this time. She didn't leave feeling trashy, stupid, or like she had betrayed anyone. She felt a strange giddiness that was somehow new.