She looked up, more than a little annoyed, but the snide remark she was preparing to make died in her throat when she saw that it was Malfoy.
"What do you want?" she hissed.
He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Now, now Granger, is it really that hard to be civil? I know you've been left lacking in regards etiquette because of your upbringing, but you must have learned something over the past seven years." He paused, then sat back, his smirk widening. "Oh, I forgot the company you keep. Never mind then."
Hermione ground her teeth together, and stood up. Malfoy snickered, but as she turned to walk away his hand shot out and clamped down around her wrist. He pulled her down, closer to him.
"You might want to show a bit more discretion in regards who you choose to associate with. It can have repercussions, you know," he murmured. Hermione froze in fear and anger. "But since you seem so willing to be Zabini's whore…" Malfoy leaned forward and pressed his face into her hair. She could feel his hot breath on her scalp. "Perhaps you might have some use after all, Mudblood."
"What exactly are you doing to Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy?"
Her wrist was freed instantly, and Hermione fell back, directly into Snape. He caught her shoulders automatically and looked down at her, his eyes suspiciously blank. Malfoy, who had stretched his legs out in front of him, was suddenly the picture of serenity.
"Discussing some Potions work, Professor."
Snape narrowed his eyes. "I see. Perhaps you should return to the common room now, as it's nearing curfew."
Malfoy smiled winningly, stood up and sauntered away.
Hermione knew she was trembling, and wondered if Snape could tell. She picked up her satchel from the floor beside the table, and started to walk away.
"Miss Granger."
She stopped, half turning her face towards the man behind her. "Sir?"
"Are you…Did -"
"I'm fine," she said, before retreating.
But since you seem so willing to be Zabini's whore…
Malfoy's words echoed in her head. He couldn't have just reached that conclusion by himself. It simply wasn't possible that an inbred ferret could make leaps of logic that great. No, the nasty little wanker must have heard from somewhere that Blaise and she…
Hermione rolled over and stared at the inside of her bed's curtains. They were drawn tonight, even though it hadn't gotten really cold yet. She just didn't want to have to face anyone else, even the familiar annoyances that were her roommates.
How could he? He wouldn't. Would he?
Hermione pulled a pillow tight against her chest, and wrapped herself around it. She closed her eyes and consciously pushed all those horrible thoughts out of her mind, allowing herself a moment's peace. It almost worked, too.
Perhaps you might have some use after all, Mudblood.
Hermione sat up and kicked the sheets off. Crookshanks, who had decided to stay the night in the dormitory with her for once, blinked lazily at her from the foot of the bed, and started to purr. She crawled over to him and scratched his head, sending him into an orgy of joy.
"Thank you for staying in tonight," she whispered. The big cat just blinked at her knowingly. After a moment's hesitation, she pushed aside a hanging and climbed out of bed. She padded to her trunk and pulled on the jeans which had been discarded atop it yesterday. She threw a jumper on over her tank top and pulled her trainers on.
Casting a silencing charm about herself before slipping her wand up her sleeve, Hermione crept out of her dorm room.
The fire in the common room was embers now, and a glance at the grandfather clock in the corner showed that there was an hour or so till sunrise. It was unlikely even Filch would still be up. Snape, however, was another story entirely.
"Hope springs eternal," she mumbled to herself as she climbed out the portrait hole.
She lost count of how many circuits she made after the first few dozen, and instead concentrated on not thinking about Malfoy, or Blaise, or anything else remotely Slytherin-related. Just as she thought her legs were going to give out, she noticed that the sky was slightly lighter than it had been on her last pass.
She stopped, and crossed her arms on top of an eastern-facing battlement. It was like watching the hour hand of a clock - there was no obvious difference from moment to moment, but after a while the change was noticeable.
Slowly, the sky became a lighter grey, and Hermione decided that it was going to be a wretched day.
She looked down at the misty grounds of Hogwarts, once she could see clearly, and noticed a dark figure walking slowly up from the main entrance, around the lake. It couldn't be more than 6am - who would be up this early, let alone coming from Hogsmeade?
She decided, pushing her curiosity aside, that if someone else was up this early and on their way to the school then it was time she returned to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione wasn't certain when curfew ended, really, but she didn't want to lose house points on a technicality.
She shivered, and headed inside.
While they might not be able to speak in great detail in class, she could make it clear she wanted to meet him that evening, and if he didn't agree she'd jinx him into next week.
Another lunch came, and Hermione fell into a seat at the Gryffindor table.
"How was Arithmancy?" Ron said, grinning as he grabbed a few sandwiches from the platter in front of him. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Not as captivating as Divination, I'm sure."
Harry laughed. "Trelawney gets loonier every year. Today she declared that this year I'm going to die for certain, but before that, I would lose faith in my soul mate." He shook his head. "I don't even fancy anyone, let alone have a soul mate."
Ron smirked around a mouth full of tuna and mayonnaise. "Maybe you just haven't noticed her yet."
Hermione rolled her eyes again, and concentrated on her plate, ignoring the wild speculations and horribly inaccurate predictions the boys made. Divination was still a spectacular waste of time in her estimation, even with Firenze teaching some of the classes, but she felt so worn thin with stress that it was no longer worth the energy to belittle it.
She ate quickly, re-reading a chapter of her Potions text as she did. She didn't notice the lull in the conversation, nor the worried looks from Harry and Ron.
"Uh, Hermione?"
"Yes?" she asked without looking up from her textbook.
Harry pulled the book out of her line of vision, and she looked up. Both boys were looking at her with wide, worried eyes.
"What's been going on lately?" Harry asked quietly.
"Nothing." She felt uncomfortable under their disbelieving gaze. "Honestly, I've just been working too hard. Nothing unusual there. It's just that it's our last year and what with NEWTs and all I'm just pushing myself a bit harder. But I'm fine, really."
She gave them what she hoped was a reassuring smile, and pulled her textbook back from under Harry's hands. "It's almost time for class. I don't want to be late for Potions." She tucked her book into her satchel and fled the Great Hall.
Ron looked after her.
"D'you think she was telling the truth?" Harry murmured.
Ron sighed and shook his head. "Dunno."
He looked ill - there were dark circles under his eyes, and he was very pale. He also completely ignored Hermione's scrutiny.
Snape swept in, and the class quieted, paying close attention - they were studying some of the most deadly poisons today, along with their antidotes. Hermione busied herself with taking notes as the professor lectured, outlining the basic principles of the antidotes and poisons, and the ways in which they interacted.
An hour and a half later Hermione's fingers ached, but she was eager to begin the practical. Half the class would brew the Ioncanus. Derived mostly from iocane powder, it was not only deadly but also fast-acting, and untraceable when in potion form. While this made using it far more preferable, the potion itself was ridiculously difficult to make. It was also long thought impossible to counteract, but a few decades ago an antidote had been discovered; this was what the other half of the class would be making.
Hermione and Blaise silently started on their antidote - she grinding up pumpkin and mustard seeds and he stirring the Augury eggs. The Hippocampus scales were already simmering in the cauldron over a low flame. Snape walked through the class, keeping a close eye on the students brewing the antidote, because of their use of cockatrice ichors.
In its distilled form, it was extremely toxic and had a tendency to burn its way through anything other than lead. But when added to the antidote and combined with a powdered bezoar, it lost some of its potency, though would still cause severe vomiting. Ironically enough, as Snape had explained, this was quite necessary, and one of the reasons the antidote was so difficult. The ingredients had to be balanced properly so that while the helpful, cleansing qualities of such things as the Hippocampus scales and the Augury eggs had time to be absorbed and take effect, the purging effects of the cockatrice ichors couldn't be suppressed so long that they would no longer be helpful in removing the toxin from the body.
Both Hermione and Blaise were absorbed in their antidote, and all the tension between them quickly faded, more out of necessity than anything else. Two years had taught them to work well together, and anticipate the other's moves. But Blaise wasn't really himself, and while he was stirring, Hermione moved to add the ground seeds. He didn't move immediately, so she touched his shoulder.
That he jumped slightly wasn't all that unexpected - it was the wince that surprised her. She stared at him for a moment, then dumped the powder into the cauldron. Blaise kept stirring, not looking up, so she leaned her head close to his.
"You and I need to talk. Will you please meet me tonight after dinner in the library?" she whispered.
Blaise didn't respond.
"Please, Blaise?"
He stiffened, then nodded slightly, still not looking at her. Hermione decided that was the best she was going to get, and turned her concentration back to the potion. But for the rest of the class she was very careful not to touch him.