HERMIONE'S POV:
Being sick was not fun. Not fun at all. I threw up at least 12 times just in 3 hours.
Madam Pomfrey diagnosed it as a "one day cold". Sure enough, by the end of the day, I was feeling a little better.
Having refused to eat or drink anything (except the concoctions Madam Pomfrey gave me) for fear of what it might come back up as, I was starving by the time Madam Pomfrey released me from the infirmary.
I was still a little shaky and a little wobbly on my feet. Luckily Ron and Harry were there to hold me up so I didn't stumble into any walls.
At dinner, I couldn't help but peek over my shoulder a few times at the blond-haired Slytherin boy. He didn't turn around once. Ron noticed me looking and threw me a few dirty looks and even scowled in Draco's direction once or twice.
I gobbled down all of my food and then got really sleepy. My head was light and I was fighting to keep my eyelids from shutting completely.
"Hermione? Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked, seeing my drowsiness and probably mistaking it for the return of what was supposed to be a one day cold.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just really tired. I think I'm going to go up to sleep." I yawned and stood up, shambling out of the dining hall.
I half expected to hear Draco following me out of the dining hall again, but when I turned around, the halls were empty. I frowned to myself and turned around, walking up the stairs slower than before.
Halfway up the stairs, I bumped into someone.
"Oh, I'm-" I started, then I saw who I had ran into and tried to make a run for it.
"Hello, Miss Granger. How would you like to test out a few of our newest inventions?" George asked, pointing at the box in Fred's hands.
Fred made a flourish-like gesture under the box, making a presentation out of a box of candy that made you sick.
"Thanks, but no thanks, you two. I was already sick once today, I don't think I could deal with being sick again." I said, running up the stairs behind them before they could try to talk me into it again.
Scampering up the steps and nearly falling over a few times, I thought about Draco; it was becoming a natural habit for me lately. In one day, I had gone from hating him, to not believing his efforts to be nice, to defending him from Ron, to enjoying his company.
My life was becoming very confusing. Usually my life was very simple (aside from the random life-threatening journey with Ron and Harry, but that was normal for me) and I knew exactly what was going on. But lately, I hadn't known very much about even at all. This whole Draco ordeal was really screwing with my head.
Laying down in my bed, I wrapped myself in a big quilt and fell asleep quickly.
DRACO'S POV:
Hermione had gotten over her sickness and was in the dining hall for dinner.
I knew she was looking at me, but I couldn't look up; I knew there were lots of people watching me. Weasley, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and an endless list of others (most of them with hateful glares, but they still counted). They would all notice me watching Granger and think something was going on. I couldn't afford for people to see me with her. It seemed like maybe Weasley was already onto us. I didn't know why I was keeping it from people, but I couldn't let anyone know that we were friends.
After dinner that night, I stayed awake in bed staring at the ceiling for at least 3 hours just thinking about her, and when I finally fell asleep, I dreamt of her.
In the dream, she was wearing a long, blue dress and her hair was pulled to the side, a shiny clip sparkling near the base of her neck and letting her curls hang loosely around one shoulder.
She smiled at me and my heart did something it has never done before. It beat hard and fast and wouldn't slow. I smiled and couldn't help the obvious yearning in my eyes. I thrust my hands into the pockets of my suit coat and smiled.
It felt abnormal but natural as breathing at the same time. It wasn't like when I smiled because I was enjoying being cruel to some poor defenseless first year or when I tortured my house elf. It was new. Like smiling because I was… happy.
She blushed and looked down, biting her lower lip softly and letting one small, quiet giggle tickle the air around us. It was the most cute thing I had ever heard. Though it wasn't saying much (what with my life being fairly giggle-deprived due to my terrible upbringing), I was sure there was nothing quiet so adorable.
I felt a strange tugging at the back of my mind. I mentally investigated.
It was sadness. But how or why would I possibly be sad at a moment like this?
It was because I wasn't right for her. She was the goody-two-shoes teacher's pet book-worm. I was the bully, I was practically the epitome of evil to those here at school and every kid's worst nightmare.
It made my chest hurt to think about all of the people who hated my guts. I knew what it was to be unwanted in my own home, I was hoping that maybe I would be able to change that here at school and make someone, anyone want me around so I wouldn't be alone forever. Sure Crabbe and Goyle claimed they were my friends and I let them hang out with me, but they, too, wanted me gone. They only said they were my friends because I was the bully. Bullies didn't pick on their friends, or at least not near as bad as most other people.
Hermione was the only real friend I had ever had besides the stuffed rabbit I had when I was an infant, and I wasn't even sure she considered me her friend. I would work as hard as I possibly could to gain her friendship and those around me. But I needed her friendship first; she mattered more and maybe if she befriended me, others would be less reluctant to actually like me.
The sadness was still there, though, lurking in the background of my thoughts, taunting me and discouraging my efforts, telling me she would never accept a monster.
She was staring at me worriedly while I sorted through this epiphany.
I refused to think of the sadness darkening my mind and enjoy the moments I was given with her.
I smiled at her again, but this time it felt forced instead of natural. She seemed to notice that this one was more or less faked.
Her frown made me even more sad.
I reached a hand up and cupped her cheek in my palm. Her smooth, unblemished skin was all cream and roses, tempting me with its softness. Her face was tilted down, but her eyes were on mine, inviting me to do something I had never thought of with her before now.
My eyes traveled down her face to her lips. Her lower lip was still gently but firmly held in place by her teeth, but she seemed to know what was happening before I did.
I thought maybe my mind was playing tricks on me when her mouth seemed to be moving closer, but when mine parted in response and my heart tried to beat its way out of my mouth but got caught in my throat, I knew she wanted to kiss me, too.
I leaned forward, my pulse beating in my ears so loud it should have been painful, but there was a soothing warmth around me that seeped into me and made me forget every worry, every pain, everybody in the world but the girl whose mouth was currently .05 centimeters away from mine.
"Draco!" Crabbe yelled.
I thrashed about in my bed, accidentally kicking Crabbe, who was leaning over me looking at me like I had swallowed an entire box of candies from the Weasley Twins.
"What? What is it?" I asked groggily, rubbing my eyes and sitting up with a yawn creeping its way up my throat.
I must've slept late; Crabbe and I seemed to be the only people in the room.
"You slept pretty late so I figured I would come wake you up, but you've been saying a bunch of weird stuff." he said, once again looking at me with that same mixture of worry for my mental health and wariness.
I felt the blood drain from my face. How much had he heard? What would I do if he had heard anything that had to do with Hermione? How much could I tell this dim-witted pile of lard?
"What did I say?" I asked.
"Something about an epiphany and at one point, you mumbled, 'I need to be nicer'." So that was why he was worried. "Are you alright?" he asked, reaching up to feel my forehead.
Feeling that I was perfectly fine, he narrowed his eyes and waited for my assurance.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Probably just my subconscious running amuck." I said, knowing he wouldn't be smart enough to figure out that that still meant that I was thinking about changing my ways.
He nodded, staring at a pattern on my blanket like he still didn't quite understand.