A couple of days pass, and it is incredibly obvious that Malfoy is avoiding me.
So I make a plan to do the unthinkable - Leglimecy. I shouldn't; it's a complete invasion of privacy. He is probably incredibly strong in Occlumency. It's almost dangerous for me to even try.
But I have to know. It's an itch I can't quite scratch. Why did he take me to my room? He's so hostile, and then... not. It's like I've always been: desperate to know; but so much worse.
So I wait. Three more days go by. I'm waiting for something, even if I don't quite know what, and it never comes. He remains completely silent during our rounds at night.
On Friday, I make some poor excuse that I'm tired from the week, and I don't stay out past dinner.
I rush back to the dormitory, scribble a note that I'm not feeling well and will Malfoy so kindly do the rounds himself, and hide in my room.
I hear him arrive right at nine o'clock. His movement pauses - I assume that he's reading my note, and I hear the door open and close again.
While he's gone, I sneak over to his room, checking for any wards or locks. I find none, other than his basic doorknob lock, easily solved.
That's odd, but I think nothing of it.
I return to my room and get ready for bed. I should probably act the part, so that Malfoy doesn't become suspicious.
I go downstairs to make tea with honey, purposely leaving out the supplies so that he sees it, and go back to my room to wait, yet again.
I hear him come in, kick off his shoes, and head up the stairs.
I cough when I know he's within hearing distance.
Bloody hell, I could be a Muggle actress, I think to myself, laughing at the thought.
I read as another two hours painfully click by. I hear him puttering around his room, the water running as he showers, drawers opening and closing.
I become anxious at the four hour mark. I desperately want to get in there, to start: but I need to make sure he's asleep.
Surely he's asleep close to two o'clock in the morning.
I cast a Silencio charm around myself, along with Disillusionment, as precautions.
I inch towards his door, and go to twist the doorknob. It's locked, as I suspected.
With a flick of my wand, I unlock it, and push open the door just enough to peek inside.
He's asleep. An arm thrown across his face, covered up in the blanket.
Not about to forget my mission, I close the door behind me and move slowly towards him.
He doesn't stir.
I finally reach his head, waiting a moment to make sure he's deep asleep before hearing his heavy breathing.
I pull out my wand, place it ever-so-gently to his temple, and begin the spell.
I fall through his thoughts. Head-first, spiraling, until I land in the middle of a fuzzy darkness.
He must not be dreaming.
So I bring to mind the memories that I want. I decide to go chronologically, starting with the bruise.
Things begin to swirl, until I find myself in the middle of the Slytherin Common Room.
"...fucking Hermione Granger?" a Slytherin boy says, and I turn to face Malfoy.
His face contorts into rage.
"Are you bloody crazy?" he asks.
"I'm just saying," the boy continues, "a nice set of tits on that one."
Suddenly, Malfoy lunges, punching the boy square in the nose.
They become a blur of uniform and grappling hands, until I see the punch that goes into Malfoy's eye.
He bangs the boy against the ground, then, bracing a hand around his throat. The boy kicks and struggles before Malfoy finally backs off; I assume at the last possible moment.
Everyone in the room is frozen, no one going to help the boy or say something to Malfoy.
I take a closer look at the boy and see that he's already bruising, his nose noticeably bent, his mouth dripping blood.
Malfoy leans in as the boy struggles to get up off the floor.
"Bloody filth," he says.
The memory fades, and I'm left in the fuzzy blackness again.
I bring about the memory of me falling asleep.
I arrive near the door, and Malfoy walks in.
I see myself asleep on the sofa, and cringe at the crease on my cheek.
His thoughts drift in, as if through a speaker.
Book in hand. Malfoy laughs mentally.
I watch as he quietly comes over and bends down, taking the book from my hands and putting the bookmark back in its spot before shoving it in his pocket.
Gonna have to carry her.
Though there's still no explanation as to why, I wait, patiently, and hope that my answer will come soon.
Malfoy uncovers me, and slides an arm under my legs and one behind my back before straightening up.
She smells good. Coconut and... vanilla?
He heads towards the stairs. I follow him.
She's kind of small.
I find myself becoming frustrated. There's nothing helpful here. I tell myself to see this through.
I wish we got along like this all the time, he thinks with a laugh. But she's asleep.
He enters my room and lies me down, before unzipping my jumper and sliding my arms through it, picking me up, and sitting my jumper to the side.
It's bloody cold in here. Malfoy covers me with my blanket, and takes my book out of his pocket.
I like this one, he says. She reminds me of Elizabeth.
He gingerly places my book on the table, and waits for a moment.
Anything to make up for what I let happen to her, he thinks, his thoughts taking on a somber tone.
Bingo. There's my answer.
Why does it matter so much to him? Why does he continue his hostility?
She's still Granger, though. I can't just go around being nice to anyone.
I roll my eyes at that, then, pulling out of Malfoy's mind completely and removing my wand from his temple.
Back in the real world, I see Malfoy, now awake, staring at me.