It's J.K. Rowling's. Just saying.
The Great Hall
The next morning, Hermione was more confused than ever. Ron was so very sweet and good to her, and yet she couldn't keep her mind off Malfoy. Try as she might, she just kept going back to what her hand felt like in his. He was so warm and comforting, and it was nice not to make out on sight for a change.
Lost in her thoughts, Hermione scarcely noticed the person who came to sit beside her.
"Hello?" Ginny said uncertainly. "Hermione?"
"Huh?" Hermione said suddenly, shaking her head and bringing herself back to the present.
"So, I was asking how your day was going," Ginny said, "But I can pretty much see the answer already."
Hermione blushed slightly and shrugged. "I don't know, Ginny," she said. "It's all right, I suppose."
Ginny regarded her suspiciously. "What's going on with you?" she asked.
Hermione didn't say anything for a moment. She considered telling Ginny everything. How sweet Ron was (though not the making out part, of course), how surprised she was when Malfoy came to her, how sweet he'd been for the past few weeks, how amazing that kiss felt, how...
Ginny touched her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts. She looked at her with a serious expression on her face. "Hermione," she said, "You know you can talk to me about anything."
Hermione sighed. Then, taking a deep breath, she told Ginny. She told her everything, from the punching scene a few weeks ago to the hand holding last night. In the end, she looked down, ashamed.
"Have you told Ron?" Ginny asked softly.
"Of course not, Gin," Hermione replied. "It'd kill him to know."
"Well," Ginny added, "have you at least decided which one you'd rather be with?"
Hermione just shook her head silently.
"Honestly, Hermione," Ginny said slowly, "I don't exactly trust Malfoy. But if you think he's okay, then maybe he is. Just think about it, okay?"
Hermione nodded.
"And whatever you do, just remember I'm here for you."
With that, Ginny left Hermione alone with her thoughts.
Across the Hall, Crabbe had caught Malfoy's eyes on the Gryffindor table yet again.
"So," he said to him, noticing it took Malfoy just a bit to refocus. "When's it gonna be?"
"I haven't quite decided yet," Malfoy replied, hoping he sounded as sure of himself as he wanted to be, and also that his apparent gawking had gone unnoticed. "But it'll be soon," he added.
"It'd better be," said Goyle.
"Yeah," said Crabbe, "and it'd better be good."
"Oh, it will," said Malfoy, straightening his shoulders and pinning each of them in turn with a glance. "Trust me, it will."
In truth, Malfoy had lost sight of what he wanted to do anymore. He had wanted to completely humiliate her. He had wanted to make her feel like he had felt. That day, when she had punched him, he had had to walk around with that bruise for days afterward. He wanted her to feel just like that, only worse.
He wanted to make her pay.
He wanted teach her her place.
And now, it seemed as though he had no choice.
Malfoy was sitting on the Hogwarts lawn after classes, reading an assignment, when Hermione came to him. He felt soft, female hands on his shoulders, and he turned to face her.
"Well hello there," he said, smiling up at her. He stood to talk to her.
"Hey," she greeted in reply and seemed thrown off by his standing, especially given he came up so close. She took a subconscious step back. "I was just, well, I walking through the lawn, and I saw you reading here. And I was wondering, well..."
"Would you like to join me?" he interrupted, cutting off her ramblings and gesturing to the grass below them.
"I..." she began, then shrugged. "Sure."
He conjured a blanket and placed it on the ground next to his schoolwork. Then he held out a hand to her, and she took it carefully. He led her gently to the blanket, where she began retrieving a book from her bag.
Sitting next to her, he said, "So, how has today been?"
"It's been all right," she said. "How has yours been?"
"It's been..." he paused for a moment, considering. "It's been lonely, to be honest."
"Oh?" she said. She didn't seem to know what else to say to that.
He laughed softly at her confusion. "It's okay," he said, running his hand along her arm softly and looking into her eyes, "You don't always have to know what to say around me."
She blushed and smiled gratefully. "Well," she said, laughing in return, "At least that's a relief."
They sat there for a moment, content in their silence. "Oh, Draco?" she said.
His heart skipped a beat at his first name. Still, he replied with a casual, "Yes?"
"So, um," she stammered, "what's this all about?" She was blushing furiously by the end of her question.
"Honestly?" he asked.
"Honestly."
"Well," he said truthfully, taking her hand. "I really don't know."
By the end of her time with Malfoy, Hermione desperately needed to see Ron. She wanted to be reminded of how much she loved him, and she wanted him to tell her all those sweet things he always told her. That way, she'd maybe come to her senses and leave this whole Malfoy business behind her.
"Ron?" she said, as she approached him in the common room.
"Yeah, 'Mione?" he said.
"So, how are things?" she said lamely, unsure of what else to say.
"They're okay, I suppose," he said, toying with a loose string on his robe. "Why do you ask?"
"I just..." she stopped herself and took a deep breath. Then she stepped forward and hugged him tightly. "I guess it just seems like it's been a while since I've seen you."
Pulling away gently, he said, "Yeah, I suppose it has."
"Well, I've just been so busy with work, and you know how things are, I just don't seem to have time for anyone anymore," she blurted.
"I know, 'Mione," he said. "I've been busy, too. It's okay."
She was surprised he was taking her being away so well.
"Well," she said. "I think I'm going to head up to my room and do some things before dinner. I'll meet you before?"
"Sure, 'Mione," he said, giving her a quick kiss. "Catch you later."
"So..." Crabbe said to Malfoy during dinner, his eyes having wandered again. "What's the plan exactly?"
Malfoy seemed to consider the question a moment. Then, shrugging, he said, "I suppose it's time enough to tell you two."
Both Crabbe and Goyle looked at him expectantly.
"I'm going to lure her in, just as I've been doing," Malfoy said. "I'm going to make her love me, and I'm going to ask her to get rid of the Weasel." He paused for dramatic effect. "Then, just when she's gotten rid of him and she's completely in love with me, I'll drop her. I'll drop her like the little Mudblood she is. I'll tell that git Weasel and the whole school that she was sleeping with me the whole time, and I'll break her poor little Mudblood heart." He paused with a characteristic smirk, looking to the boys for their reactions. "Then," he added, "I'll never speak to the little witch again."
The boys didn't seem overly impressed, but they knew better than to tangle with Malfoy.
"See," he added, "there's something about our little Mudblood that you two don't know." They looked at him again. "If there's anything that means the most to her," he said, "that's her reputation and her trust. Ruin those two, and you've ruined her completely."
Crabbe and Goyle began to understand, returning to their smirks and nodding viciously.
"So," said Goyle, "When's the time to strike?"
Malfoy thought long and hard before he replied. "Three days," he said, sounding confident.
They seemed content and went back to their food.
Three days, he thought to himself, looking over again to Hermione, who was laughing with her friends as usual. Just three more days.
