Chapter Eleven
Hermione's Session
Hermione's POV
Malfoy was his own special brand of irritating. In school he had been smug and sophisticated with a side of spite (Wow, what an alliteration!) Since then he had aged into a fine specimen of Almost Tollerable. Almost Tollerable carries it's own case of problems. You think you might be able to get on with him then he does something entirely left feild and you start to dislike him again.
I was still in a bit of a snit after a failed attempt last night to get Ron's attention at dinner. True there was the spectacle of Draco blatantly staring at Ginny. But even so.
However the fiasco last night set me of a mind to see just how my match making skills were. I was determined not to actually gain anything out of this whole deal. After all, I was fine. But I knew that I should at least go through the motions.
But first, to learn a little about our host.
"Hermione."He said with a nodd as he sat down.
"Are we on first name basis then?" I asked snipily.
I expected a biting retort but he just smiled. "I could call you Miss Granger but that would get tedious."
I had to admit it would. Not alloud of course.
My first obstacle was to see just how forgiving he supposedly was now. He beat me to the questioning. The moment I opened my mouth when he leaned forward at his desk.
"Are you left handed?"
The question caught me off guard so I answered truthfully. I was.
"That means you're right brained."
I sighed. "That's nothing I don't already know."
He smiled. "Write a poem."
"Excuse me?" I gaped.
"Come on! Just a short little one. I won't tell. Hell you can burn it when we're done anyway."
I eyed him warily. The rightside of the brain was the artistic side. I knew he was testing to see how artsy I was. I hated to disappoint him but I wasn't very artsy at all. I'd tried my hand at painting and writing before and found myself awful. I admitted as much.
He smiled. "You just need proper inspiration. Think about how much you hate being here."
I paused for a moment. Then I snatched the paper off his desk and a pen. In a few seconds I had penned a short little poem.
He held out his hand. I was reluctant but handed it over.
I fidgeted as he read it. "I know it's not that great but..." I trailed off.
"Not at all. It's no Poe or Sidney but it's a good start."
Then he locked eyes with me. "You're too hard on yourself. You need to lighten up."
The words were like a blow. I rose defiantly from my seat intent on storming out. Then he stoped me.
"What did you get on your final exams?"
I faltered and fell back into my seat. "Almost perfect." I muttered after providing him with the grades.
He stared at me. "100? 110? A 107 in Potions?"
Suddenly I had an epiphany of a sorts. It was short but for a single moment I knew he was right. I was too hard on myself.
I didn't know it then, but I was on the way to recovering.
(A/N: Yeah! Draco helps Mione!