It was so frustrating. No matter how much he worked at it, Harry just could not get it. A voice in the back of his head kept telling him to ask Hermione, get her to help, but this only made him angrier. Did he need Hermione's help with everything? He didn't want her to know about this either. It was already December and he had made no progress. Every book in the library that even skimmed over the topic was in his possession; he had hoped that he might be able to leach some information from even the shortest blurbs. Nothing had helped. He repeated the incantation again.
"The Biddelia Charm is one of the most difficult protective spells…" Hermione couldn't concentrate. She had written the same sentence twice, scratched one out, and written it again. Why had she left this essay until the last minute? She glanced out the window. Just hours earlier she had been out on the snow covered grounds with him… The Biddelia Charm, the Biddelia charming… How could one person do this to her? Just one moment with him and now she couldn't concentrate for more than a few seconds. It was so unlike Hermione to fall head over heels for a guy she hadn't been able to stand for the previous six years. But he'd changed. She had changed too, but she never thought this much. It was on the train on the way to Hogwarts that he had first surprised her…
"Hey, Grang-, Hermione. Can I talk to you?"
"Whatever you have to say Malfoy is unimportant."
"No, please, Hermione, just listen to me." It was the pleading tone in Draco Malfoy's voice that interested Hermione the most. She stepped into his compartment and sat opposite him. She met him straight in the eyes. That was when she noticed a dark red scab across his cheek. His eye was puffy and black.
Despite herself, Hermione felt compelled to ask what had happened.
"Long story." It was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, Hermione, for everything."
There was another long silence as Hermione, astonished, watched a tear leak out of Draco's wounded eye.
Hermione was astonished. Malfoy was crying and apologizing? Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Malfoy, I don't have time for your games." She stood up and reached for the door handle. It was locked. Looking back at Malfoy she saw his wand in his hand. His cheeks were glistening with more tears, and he looked miserable. Slowly Hermione returned to the seat. Hermione couldn't help being intrigued by what Malfoy had to say. He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his robes.
"I know you probably won't ever forgive me for what I have put you," his voice faltered, then "and your friends through, but please hear me out." His tone was quiet, with that same pleading he had used earlier. In barely a whisper he said, "You must hate me."
For a moment Hermione could think of nothing to say. Did he expect her to console him?
"Er, Malfoy, what is it you wanted to tell me? Other than, you know, that you're sorry and everything."
"I want you to know why I hated you." His response was so sudden that Hermione was taken aback. His eyes were burning into hers with such vehemence that she had to turn away.