Yep, J.K. Rowling's.
"I feel sorry for him. I actually, sincerely, feel sorry for Draco Malfoy. I don't know what to do with that."
After a few more moments of sitting with her pen poised over her journal, she finally gave up. She closed it and muttered the password.
A deep frown formed on her face, slightly contorting her features. Her deep brown eyes were full of confusion.
"Mudblood, get over here."
She sighed. On cue, as had become the routine.
"What, Malfoy?" she asked, voice full of annoyance.
"You already know what," he replied matter-of-factly.
"True," she conceded. "What about it?"
They were a bit of a distance apart, and earning quite the glare from the librarian for calling to one another.
Noting this, Malfoy sighed an exasperated sigh and walked over to her. "Why don't you come when called?"
Her glare nearly bore through him, and all thoughts of sympathy were lost. "I'm not another one of your slaves, Malfoy," she spat.
"You're just as good as one," he retorted.
She stood quickly, glaring even more fiercely. "How dare you." Her tone was near menacing.
"How dare I what, Granger?" Malfoy replied, smirking. "How dare I treat you like the Mudblood you are?"
The entire room rang with the sound of her palm connecting with his face.
He looked stunned, mouth agape and eyes wide.
She turned on her heel and walked, but not before he detected the slightest glint of a tear in her eye.
She knew it was borderline dangerous at this point, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't think straight. She went to her tree by the lake.
The wind blew softly as always, but it offered no comfort. The hot tears burning on her cheeks were too stark of a contrast.
She heard footsteps coming near her, and she tensed. Not again. She couldn't handle it, not today.
"Granger," a male voice called.
She froze completely.
"Blast it, Granger, I needed to talk to you about the project," he said angrily. "I wasn't bloody asking to get slapped."
Malfoy rounded the tree, her tree, and saw her. The cold anger on his face molded into a blank confusion at her tears. "Granger?" he said in a mildly uncertain tone.
She stood, glaring all the more. "Of course it's me," she sputtered through her tears. "What, I started crying and all the sudden you don't even recognize me?"
His face darkened. "I'm just not used to wimpy girls," he spat back. "Pansy doesn't just break into random tears at the drop of a hat."
"That's because Pansy doesn't care," she retorted before thinking.
Her words hung in the air for a moment as Malfoy digested them.
Then, "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, Malfoy," she muttered, turning to leave.
He grabbed her shoulder.
She jerked away, glaring.
"What." Her eyes were full of hate mixed with, well, something Malfoy couldn't quite place.
"I said," he repeated, his voice tight, "what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Why don't you ask Blaise?"
The glare turned to suspicion.
"Or Pansy?"
Further suspicion.
"They'd be able to tell you." Her voice was colder than she'd intended.
"Granger," he demanded, "explain yourself."
Hermione considered her position. Here she was, with her worst enemy, the cruelest person she knew, who was nearly asking for help... from her.
"I..." she started, then shook her head. "It's not my place, Malfoy."
The silence was tense and anxious.
Malfoy looked out toward the lake, ignoring Hermione. She followed his gaze to two male geese fighting. A female sat a few yards away, looking on. A few moments passed as the pair watched.
"She's cheating on me, isn't she?"
His voice was completely neutral.
The question hung there, unanswered, as the pair continued watching. Finally one of the males, now badly injured, swam away. The other approached the female.
Malfoy's gaze switched to the girl beside him. Her gaze turned to him, full of sympathy and sorrow. He needed no other answer.
"I see."
And without another word, he turned and left Hermione with the geese.
At dinner that night, Hermione again faced the Slytherin table. She could practically feel the tension radiating from them.
Pansy sat a few students away from him with Blaise, among others. Malfoy spoke to only Crabbe and Goyle. He faced the Gryffindor table, and his mouth was set in a grim line.
He looked up suddenly and met Hermione's eyes for an intense moment. His eyes were a mixture of the familiar contempt and something else Hermione couldn't quite place. Malfoy looked away quickly.
Dinner passed without much more event, and soon Hermione was back to her studies.
Since she didn't dare visit her tree after dinner, she studied in the library.
That night, she lay awake for a while, pondering the day's events. Wow, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, Malfoy is human...
A/N: Hey all, let me know what you think. Thanks!