This chapter bounces through a bunch of different scenes. In one, Hermione loses her temper and may lose her chance to learn more about the school bully. Also, Hermione makes a confession...

Chapter 3

"Absolutely not, Hermione."

"But Ron, he's been playing since he was five. You started a year later if what you told me was true."

The trio of friends were walking back to their common room the evening after Hermione found out the shocking revelation that Malfoy liked playing chess.

"I'm not going to play wizard's chess with Malfoy of all people." Ron quipped and they arrived at the moving staircases. "I'd rather he be the pieces that get crumbled to bits while playing the game."

Hermione was sure that Malfoy would say the same thing about him.

"So, you're getting along, Hermione?" Harry asked as they stopped at the Big Lady picture that led to the Gryffindor common room.

"Not quite," she breathed. "We can't get through a minute without bickering about something."

"At least he doesn't call you that name anymore," Ron said. "Doesn't he?"

Hermione started. "No. He doesn't." Curious.

The three entered the common room and Hermione saw Shamus Finnegan playing chess with Dean Thomas at a corner table. She should try it.

Hermione slammed the chessboard down on the stone floor, right next to the bubbling cauldron that was full of gray goo. Malfoy stared at the board and the chess pieces that Hermione was beginning to set out. It was day three of potion-making. They always did it in the evening, after classes.

"You can't be serious, can you?"

"What?" she said as they sat criss-crossed on the floor. "It's something to pass the time before we put in the next ingredient in an hour."

This was no wizard's chess game, just a normal chess game that Hermione brought with her from her muggle home. It was the cheap black and red fold-out board with plastic black and white pieces. She never thought that the first time she would pull it out would be to play it with Draco Malfoy. But maybe this would help a bit with her plan.

"No way," he said flatly after she set up all the pieces.

Her nerves tingled with irritation. "C'mon. Don't tell me you're not confident enough to play against a brilliant witch like myself."

"Brilliant?" he spat. "We'll see about that."

The two began playing. An hour later, Malfoy was about to check her king, but then she made a move and checked his king.

"Hey! You can't do that!" he said.

"Of course I can. It's my move."

She check-mated him right at the time they needed to add the next ingredient to the potion. "Good game," she said and added the goblin saliva. She looked at Malfoy as he was staring at the chess board, scowling. His pride was hurt.

"Play again?" she asked after twisting the bottle to the saliva shut.

"No."

"Do you play with your parents when you're at home?" She stirred the goo.

His blue eyes landed on her and widened. He showed his teeth. "Don't mention my parents. They never played. And don't care."

Hermione blinked at his offensiveness. "Um… neither?"

He glared at her. "No. Mum doesn't know how, and Father wouldn't bother."

Hermione stared at the chess board with only a few pieces left on it and thought a moment, pressing her lips together. "Then how did you learn?"

"You won't stop, will you?" he spat and stood up. "I'm done for today." He cantered out.

"Temper, temper," Hermione heard Myrtle say. "He's dreadfully handsome when he gets angry."

Hermione gave her a look.

"I like bad boys," Myrtle said with a smile and bit her bottom lip and giggled. Hermione looked away and at the chess board again, dismissing what the ghost girl said.

He doesn't have a good relationship with his parents, mostly his father, from what she can tell. She has to dig deeper. Are his parents the only reason why he's a bully and not happy?

The trio were with Hagrid the next day. He was busy skipping rather large rocks in the Black Lake, his pants rolled up to his knees.

"Hagrid, something's bothering you," Harry commented as Hagrid frowned. He was silent as his back was to his three friends. Hermione noticed that he was shaking a little, and not from the cold of the lake in the fall weather.

Hagrid suddenly dropped a huge rock in the lake, making a massive dunk noise. "Buckbeak has been sentenced to death!" He started sobbing.

It felt as if Hermione's heart was crushed by one of those big rocks that Hagrid was now throwing into the lake repeatedly. She had one thought—

Malfoy. He blabbed to his father.

"Hermione, where're you going?" Ron pleaded a week after Hagrid's revelation as he and Harry were following Hermione down the grounds on the way to Hagrid's where the assassin was waiting to kill Buckbeak. Only that was not why she was cantering down the hill, angrier than she had ever been before. Her chest tightened in knots as she skipped steps that were in the path etched in the grass. Beyond was four large rocks sticking out of the ground. Standing by one looking down at the scene below at Hagrid's house was Malfoy and two of his posse. Malfoy noticed them coming. His arm was out of the sling now.

"Oh, come to see the show?" He smiled wickedly.

Hermione pointed her wand right at him, and his eyes widened. "You foul, loathsome little cockroach!" She pointed it straight at his nose.

"Hermione, no, he's not worth it," Ron said, and she lowered her wand as Malfoy's eyes followed it down to his chin. She took her wand away, and he laughed. Anger bottled up inside of her and she punched him right in the nose, his head knocking against the rock behind him.

"Aww!" he let out in pain.

"Malfoy, are you okay?" one of the boys he was with said, and the boys ran away.

"That was brilliant!" Ron said.

"Incredibly," Harry agreed.

Hermione watched Malfoy disappear over the hill. Her heart sank. Her anger just cost her from digging deeper into Malfoy's life. She sighed. She hasn't gotten anywhere with him the past week. She completely put the chess thing aside and just focused on the potion. The only things she got out of him were that he was dreadfully impatient of the potions project to be over, and his favorite color is green. But that last one was hard to get out of him.

"Hermione," she heard Harry say, and she went back to reality. Both Harry and Ron were pointing to Hagrid's house. They saw just in time the assassin chopping their bird friend's head off.

"Nasty bloke, Malfoy," Ron muttered as Hermione hung on his shoulder and Harry hugged her as well. "This is all his fault."

Hermione's heart hurt even more, and tears stung her eyes.

Malfoy didn't show up to potions-making the next day. Or the next. Or the next. He didn't even go to potions class, or any classes that she had with him for that matter.

Why would he?

"Do you miss him?" Myrtle pipped up as Hermione was sprinkling in a bit of mandrake powder into the cauldron, and almost sprinkled too much after Myrtle asked that question. Hermione looked over at her with wide eyes.

"Of course I do not!"

Myrtle had her chin resting on her palms, looking as if she was sitting on the floor next to Hermione. "Really? Then why are you so defensive?"

"I'm not defensive."

"Sure seems like it."

Hermione looked back at the now-green potion. "I'm not. I just… I want to apologize to him."

"You punched him." She made a punching gesture in the air.

She stared wide-eyed at Myrtle, but her gaze went straight through her. "How'd you know?"

"I looked for him yesterday." She smiled and stared at the ceiling adoringly. "If you don't like him," she cooed, "then I can take him. Oh… he looked so helpless and pathetic holding his bandaged nose…"

Hermione continued to stare at her in shock. "He hasn't performed any charm to heal it?"

"Apparently not."

Hermione, by herself, walked the corridors that were filled with students the next day. Maybe she could find a blonde head in this mess.

Finally, out in the courtyard, she spotted that blonde head. And bandaged nose. Why hasn't he healed it yet? So people could feel sorry for him? Psht, of course that was the reason.

She shook her head, making her loose wavy hair flail every which-way. No matter. She had a mission to complete.

Malfoy started walking away and into a corridor with his posse. She followed close behind him, but was hidden by other students. She hugged her books to her chest, and her heart hammered against them. She was actually going to apologize to Draco Malfoy! She never imagined that she would do such a thing.

"See you, Draco," one boy said, and the rest of the posse dispersed after that, leaving Malfoy to walk on his own.

She followed and followed him, until they reached the other end of the castle and down some stairs where, which was, she guessed, where the Slytherin common room was. He stopped in front of a portrait of a knight.

"Malfoy," Hermione said, and he turned to her, startled. His face twisted up.

"Granger? What are you doing here?"

She cleared her throat. What to start with? She didn't practice this. "Um, why haven't you been in classes? Or potion-making in the lavatory?"

"Like that's any of your business," he barked.

Her heart pounded in anxiousness and she walked up to him, looking up since he was taller. "It is my business. We're partners. You have to do your share."

"I'm through with that stupid potions project," he spat. "Do it yourself."

That's what I've been doing in pretty much this whole time!

Malfoy looked away and at the picture of the knight.

"Look, I'm sorry."

His browns scrunched together and he looked over at her. "Sorry?"

"Yes. Sorry. I'm sorry I punched you."

"You're not sorry. You enjoyed it. Just like I enjoyed telling my father what that bloody chicken did to me."

Hermione fought tears. "Horrible…" she muttered.

"What?"

Hermione said nothing.

He glared at her with his icy blue eyes and leaned in. "What, Granger? What do you want?"

"To be your friend!" she shouted, and her voice echoed across the empty corridor.

He stared at her in bewilderment for a moment, then his mouth twisted into a frown. "I have no interest in being your friend, mudblood."

He muttered something to the knight and entered the portrait. She stared at the full-length knight as her head pounded and hot tears stung her eyes.

"You should know," the knight in the picture said to her, "that a Slytherin just doesn't become friends with a Gryffindor. Especially… someone of your blood."

She didn't reply. She turned on her heel and made it back to her own common room, stomped up the stairs, ignoring Ron and Harry calling her name as she came in, and plunged herself on her bed and hugged her pillow. Whimpers escaped, and she soaked her pillow with tears.

Stupid. That's what she was. Stupid. How could she possibly think that she could befriend Draco Malfoy and learn his innermost secrets?

His bandaged nose and brilliant blue eyes came to her mind and more tears came. Her heart hurt more than she has ever felt before. She handled the time-turner that was around her neck. Not even this could undo what had happened.