Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own imagination

Chapter 4

The truth was, absolutely nothing had happened to Draco that night. He didn't drink the tea. He didn't have to get up to go to the bathroom. He didn't dream. Draco figured he already knew what the future had in store for him. Even though his father was currently a guest at Azkaban, Draco would never be far enough away from the clutches of his father's influence. Till death would they part. Sadly, he had come to terms with his own fate a long time ago. But just because he knew he was going to become a Death Eater didn't mean he had to like it. That's why Draco didn't drink the tea. The way he saw it was, why would anyone purposefully choose to have nightmares?

This whole seeing your future thing was a heap of rubbish anyways. He had heard that Hannah girl had dreamed she was a mediwitch. Now that she knew that, would she intentionally change all her interests in favor of pursuing a career in mediwizardry? He had also heard she was really into Transfigurations. Would she drop her present like a burning coal for her future? What if she had brewed the tea incorrectly and believed mediwizardry was her future when it really wasn't? Would that change her future?

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. All this thinking was making his head hurt. It didn't matter anyways; Draco wasn't planning on drinking the tea. He scoffed when he remembered hearing that scrawny boy with the camera would become a photographer for the Daily Prophet. That bit of news had been a waste of his time; the whole school already knew the only thing that boy was good at was photography. He had also heard that Granger didn't have a dream at all. Her two minions scarhead and poorboy may have easily accepted this, but Draco wasn't so easily fooled. As far as he was concerned, Granger never made mistakes. Curious, Draco wondered what Granger could have dreamed about to cause her to lie to those idiots she called friends.

His stomach grumbled. Glancing at his watch, he cursed when he realized dinner time was almost over. His useless followers would be wondering where he was. He sighed as he realized he hadn't even started on his homework, as he had intended. He knew it was childish, but he closed the open book in front of him with a slam as an attempt to relieve some of his anger. The few occupants in the library all sent him their own variation of irritated looks, but when they realized it was Draco Malfoy they were rudely staring at, quickly enough, they all abashedly shoved their heads back into their books. Draco sneered. This was the kind of power he loved.

Gathering the last of his things, he made his way to the exit. Right when he reached out a hand to pull the door open, the door swung open violently as if by its own volition. To say the door slapped him in the face would be an understatement. Somehow, the door had knocked the wind out of him, and caused him to fly backwards a few feet and land ungracefully on his arse. It felt like he had actually bounced a little. His eyes wildly roved the secluded entrance hall to the library, madly searching for his attacker. Finally, they settled on the backside of a girl with long russet curls. Even in his state of bewilderment, Draco couldn't help but appreciate the nice view. It was then he realized it was the bushy haired mudblood.

"G-GRANGER!" He yelled in a voice that was slightly high-pitched and not entirely steady.

Hermione quickly turned around, eyes wide open. The tall stack of books she struggled to lift in her arms wobbled dangerously, threatening to spill onto a very agitated Malfoy. The heap of books blocked her view, but she recognized the seething voice instantly. She assessed the situation quickly. Her arms were filled with books, so she had been forced to push the library door open with her back. Malfoy must have been on the other side of the door, and her gentle push must have hit him somehow. She craned her neck to stare at him from around her tall pile of books and dropped her jaw at the sight before her.

Hermione was flabbergasted; Malfoy was disheveled! His legs were sprawled out in front of him in what looked like an uncomfortable position. His robes were horribly askew, and somehow his tie had managed to escape its confines, threatening to choke him. His face was livid. His normally alabaster complexion sported two angry red splotches on either of his cheeks. Those grey eyes of his looked murderous. He was glaring at her in the most evil manner, and he looked like he was in pain. Immediately, guilt flooded through Hermione. Setting her books aside, she scrambled to help him up.

As soon as Draco realized she was advancing, he snarled, "Don't touch me, mudblood!" Then he winced. Something was poking him most painfully somewhere he would rather not name.

Hermione instantly halted, the hated nickname bringing her out of her guilt-induced trance. Merlin! She felt horrible. She wanted to help him because it was all her fault, but he apparently wanted none of that. Deciding to do as she was told, she watched with interest and growing horror as he delicately lifted himself up a little and carefully extricated his wand from underneath him. He muttered an oath of relief as the pain immediately subsided.

Draco tried to get up, but for some reason, he couldn't. He closed his eyes momentarily and decided this had to be the worst day of his life. When he opened his eyes again, Granger was looking at him with pity evident in her big brown eyes. Yep. Definitely the worst day of his life. And now he was going to have to ask for help from a mudblood.

"Help me… help me up" he said in a tight strangled voice.

Still feeling immensely guilty, Hermione was relieved that she could be of some use to him. She hastened to help him up.

As soon as he was standing on his feet again, Draco shoved her away. "Get off of me!"

Stumbling a little, Hermione defensively yelled back, "You asked me to help you, you slimy git; don't yell at me for doing as I was told!" If Malfoy was this touchy about touching… Hermione started blushing madly as she inadvertently recalled their child from the dream. She faltered a little in her rush to put distance between the two of them.

Draco watched as before his eyes, Hermione seemed to lose all her anger and self-confidence in one fell swoop. She looked like she was going to be sick.

"Granger?" He asked tentatively. He wasn't concerned; he just didn't want her to throw up all over him.

At the sound of her name, Hermione looked up, and meeting his grey eyes for a fleeting second, her mind screamed husbandhusbandhusband! Turning even redder, she turned around and fled.

That was very strange and uncharacteristic of Granger, Draco mused. As he gathered his things for the second time, he replayed the scene back in his head. She was yelling at him for being such a slimy git—something like that—and then all of a sudden everything had changed. She had bowed her head, and started blushed madly. When he said her name, her nervous brown eyes had only held his for one second before she ran away.

Suddenly, Draco grinned. The day was looking better; he felt a change in the wind. Why, if he didn't know any better, he'd think Hermione Granger had a crush on him!

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