The feast was beastly awful, Malfoy thought, sitting on the railing on the edge of the Astronomy Tower, his legs dangling as if he was five again. The other houses glared at the Slytherins (nothing new there, they'd been convinced that every single Slytherin was darkest evil, and nevermind that Crabbe couldn't spell evil, anyhow).
No, the difference was in the Slytherins themselves. They were quiet, indecisive, undecided. Well, except for Theo Nott, and a few of the seventh years. And Lupercalla, her vulpine face smirking from a crowd of fawning fifth-years. Draco Malfoy found it more disturbing that the fifth years didn't see her for what she was - a bitter bitch with a venomous bite. Had he ever been that stupid?*
It felt good to feel the wind on his face again, to think of flying - had it really been nearly a full three months since he'd been outside a cramped apartment in Londontown? Yes, it really had. And yet, it wasn't flying that was capturing his attention - when he really ought to be thinking about damned near anything else - even classes.
No, it was that Muggle, with those bright blue eyes and long, silky black hair. Not her figure, per se, but that genuine, unguarded look in her eyes. That was one thing that he hadn't been able to express to Pansy - the sheer thrill of someone Not Trying To Feign anything at all.
It was dark out, and Hermione walked the circumference of Hogwarts aimlessly, the grass beneath her feet gently crunching as she strode over it. She knew she ought to be getting a timetable together, pulling Ron and Harry into some last minute homework assignments, doing something - anything - to prepare. Even, perish the thought, spending a second or two thinking about boogering Malfoy and when and what he was going to say to Harry. He had been right, of course, she really had better not have told him that.
Argh! Hermione thought, grinding her teeth together. Not a single more thought about that wretch!
As she turned the corner of the castle, looking down on the black lake, mirrordark and glinting with untold depths and desires, she couldn't help but remember that young man's eyes - lost, forgotten, and hesitant. The look of a confusion so utterly captivating that a young man couldn't find his own way out. She fervently hoped that he'd managed to find some Northern Star to guide him by. There are many ways to lose oneself, after all, but among the worst is to lose oneself to an indecision.
*Yes.
[a/n: Leave a review! They're finally at Hogwarts! ... Up Next: Malfoy and Potter, like flint and steel.]