The next time they went foraging, Hermione did not respond when Malfoy asked her why Muggle's had nuclear weapons and what was a nuclear weapon.
'I thought you wanted us to put her in her place?' The memory of Montague's raspy voice whispered in her head.
All of the effort she put into not provoking him, into letting his anger roll off her back, was wasted. She had hoped he would just exhaust himself and move on. But he was antagonized by her existence.
He expected her to pretend like they could mean something else to each other in the forest. Like they'd entered a separate dimension, and the Malfoy she knew to be her foraging partner was different than the one who exclusively "dealt with her".
She supposed someone as spoiled as him was always able to have his cake and eat it too.
Hermione was sick of lying to herself. He would show her an intimate, passive side of himself in the forest and then punish her relentlessly at school the next day for it. She never asked him to share something with her. She never desired that, especially if the repercussions was such cruel treatment.
Thirty minutes into their walk, she yanked out her earphones and pushed him. Surprised, he flew back into a tree.
"Why are you playing games with me."
"What?"
"Why are you acting like this in here, it's not fair. You need to pick which person you're going to be to me."
"What are you talking about Granger." His eyes held a warning look, two pools of liquid mercury. Toxic and deadly to someone like her, but oh so beautiful.
The two worlds they danced between were balanced on a tip of a sword. If she wasn't careful, one might fall off and shatter.
"You've been giving my shit at school every time you see me. You don't even harass Ron and Harry that much."
It felt ridiculous, trying to hold someone who never promised her anything accountable.
"You're imagining things." He brushed her off and tried to keep walking. This time, instead of shoving him again, she pulled him closer by his robe.
"If you don't leave me alone, I'm going to make your life hell." She whispered, and she meant it. Hermione hoped her face was steel and iron, no cracks of vulnerability.
"Is that a threat," he said lowly. An enchanting but angry flush waltzed across his graceful neck. She hated that every part of him was picturesque. She felt the lightest pressure of three finger tips settling on her hip: index, middle and ring.
"Only if your behavior continues." Her mouth twitched up at the corner.
He looked over her shoulder, as she turned to see what he was staring at, he lunged at her. His body slammed them both into the hard ground. Twigs and pebbles dug into her back. Loose hair from her braid flew across her head and some went into her open mouth. He clamped a hand over her lips and motioned for her to be quiet with his other hand. Their bones clashed together through their clothes in an awkward fumble. He didn't look at her, his head was turned towards whatever was coming, but his hand, seemingly with a mind of its own, swiped the flyaway hairs out of her mouth. For hair he insulted daily, he sure did seem to make a habit out of touching it. Her body was tense against his and her heart hammered so hard against her chest it hurt.
Suddenly, a glittering white figure raced into the clearing. The unicorn stopped by the small creek and lowered its snout to the water. It's silver mane glowed and sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the foliage. The single horn centered on its head was so reflective, it hurt Hermione's eyes.
Malfoy's cold hand slowly slid off of her face, he quietly shifted his elbow so it was next to her shoulder. Hermione knew it must've been due to the shock of seeing the unicorn, but she wished he'd hurry up and take his hand off her face. It left an embarrassing, traitorous blush in its wake. She tried to ignore the fact that their chests were still pressed together.
After a few minutes of Malfoy's exhales matching her inhales, the Unicorn trotted off through the trees. Hermione had never seen a genuine smile form on his face, one that was caused by happiness not cruelty. The barest flicker of one painted his face, his lips battled against his emotions, he struggled to maintain his daily uniform of a stony expression. But eventually, his shock and awe won because a golden grin prevailed. He turned to look at her, realizing she was still trapped beneath him. Malfoy rushed off of her. His thumb accidentally grazed her flushed cheekbone as he lifted himself off the ground.
They spent another thirty minutes collecting Cowbane and then began to trek home.
"What I meant to say earlier..." she mumbled, "is that I don't know what you're trying to accomplish here."
He said nothing in response, so she kept going.
"I don't understand why you berate me at school, and then pester me with questions about...about things you supposedly hate me for." She gestured to the trees around them.
"I wish you would just pick a person to be and stick with it."
He remained quiet, she could only see the side of his stoic face. She was directionless, she had no prior knowledge to know any telling physical signs of his thoughts. His fingers twitched around his basket's honey colored handle.
"And yesterday, with Montague in the hallway. I felt betrayed. You're messing with my head. I know you aren't my friend, but I thought that maybe... we owed each other more than that?" She trailed off, face heating with the realization that she was oversharing with Draco Malfoy.
"I'm sorry." He whispered in a voice softer than she'd ever heard anyone speak. Hermione almost didn't hear it over the noise of their boots trampling twigs.
"Could you just," she tried hesitantly, not sure when he would snap back to his normal self, "...Could you just leave me alone at school?"
He nodded, blonde fringe falling over his eyes.
Hermione cast tempus to check the time.
"Why don't you just get a watch at this point?" Malfoy questioned.
"I had one but Ron took it."
His sharp, sudden laugh startled her. It reminded her of school Malfoy, "He can't even afford his own watch so he steals his girlfriend's?" He turned towards her, seeming to be searching for something on her face like he was testing her.
"He liked mine and I didn't really need it since I know the spell for time, so I let him have it. He shows up late to everything, I thought he would use it more than me."
They walked in silence the rest of the way back. Malfoy's face was stoic but Hermione could see an angry flush tiptoeing up his neck like a dancing ballerina. She sighed, they couldn't go five seconds without shattering the fragile peace they'd made.
Hermione went to bed with a full belly and a satisfied smile. Her mood had drastically improved.
The next morning, she ate her breakfast in peace. There was no silver glare beating down on her like overbearing sun rays in a desert.
She walked through the hallways without being shoved into the stone walls.
And she walked past the Slytherins without hearing evil cackles of laughter at her expense.
In the evening, she had an introductory practice with the DA in the room of requirement. Harry gave them a thirty-minute instruction on what he planned to teach them. His eyes would wander over to her spot in the crowd and she would give him a reassuring nod.
Much like Malfoy, Harry had two sides to himself. There was an awkward, easily flustered side that accidentally spit out his pumpkin juice when staring at Cho Chang. And then there was the version that fought Voldemort, yelled at Umbridge, and gazed at Sirius and the Weasley family with heartbreaking desperation only an orphan could portray.
Hermione loved both sides of him, but she wished he never had to be the second version.
After sneaking back to the Gryffindor common room, she hugged Ron and Harry goodnight. Ron didn't let her go after she tried to pull away.
"Ron?"
"Oh. Sorry 'Mione," He blushed, his freckles ever prominent on his round face. "I'm a bit nervous for the game tomorrow I guess." His warm, wool sweater covered arms released her.
"You'll do great. Now, off to bed with both of you!" She waved in the direction of the boy's stairs and followed Ginny to their room.
"Hermione?" Ginny asked, following Hermione to her bed. Hermione hummed in response, turning over her crimson bed duvet cover.
"Do you have a crush on Ron?" Ginny questioned. Hermione lifted her head in shock.
"Why would you think that?"
"I don't know, you never talk about that kind of thing with us."
"No Ginny, I don't have a crush on Ron. I might've had some feelings for him when I was younger but none that stuck with me," Hermione promised.
"Alright, just wondering." And with the social grace of Hagrid dancing at the Yule ball, Ginny transitioned from one uncomfortable topic to another, "Nott's gotten pretty fit, don't you think?"
"Ginny!" Hermione shoved at her shoulder. Childish laughter erupted from both of them. Ginny shoved her back, stood up and sauntered into her bed across the room.
"Goodnight Hermione." Ginny mumbled, already half asleep.
"Goodnight Ginny."
"Where's my fucking goodnight?" A voice called from the bed by the door.
"Goodnight Lavender. Sorry, didn't see you in the dark."
"Goodnight Ginny. Goodnight Hermione," Lavender said.
"Ahem."
"Oh sorry, Parvarti, Good-" Hermione tried to say before being cut off.
"Merlin! Goodnight EVERYONE!" Ginny hollered.
