The Great Hall was full of people and chatter when Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived late for breakfast the next morning. The later had dark rings under her eyes, having been unable to sleep after her strange encounter with Malfoy in the middle of the night. Harry and Ron were talking animatedly about Quidditch, the first match of the season – Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff – starting in under an hour, with what promised to be a spectacular performance by Professor Flitwick who was standing in as umpire.
Hermione sat down silently next to Ginny, who was tucking into an enormous plate of sausages, and glanced surreptitiously over at the Slytherin table, unable to help herself. She eyes found Malfoy instantly. He was sitting amongst a group of other sixth years that included Theodore Nott, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, all of whom were sniggering, apparently at something amusing that Crabbe had just said, though for the life of her she couldn't imagine what. It was Crabbe after all. Malfoy however, wasn't laughing. His head was slightly inclined towards Blaise Zabini who appeared to be telling him something in an undertone.
"Hey, Mione. Are you going to watch the match?"
Distracted, Hermione tried to focus her attention back to Ginny, who was offering her a glass of pumpkin juice.
"I don't think so" she told her, attempting to smile, though for some reason it was the last thing she felt like doing. "I need to study." Her eyes shifted back to Malfoy and Zabini.
"Surely the Library can do without you for one day?" Ginny teased.
"Maybe so" said Fred, who had just sat down in the seat opposite them, blocking the Slytherins from view. "But can Hermione do without the Library?"
"True" agreed Ginny, "I think she'd experience severe withdrawal symptoms."
"Libraryitus" supplied George, slumping into the seat next to Fred and yawning as he reached for the pumpkin juice.
"I'm sorry, are we keeping you up?" asked Ginny, laughing at her older brother's ruffled hair and dozy expression.
"Late night" he mumbled through a mouthful of toast.
"I take it your date with Katie went well then?" said Harry, joining in the conversation.
"Very" grinned George and everyone began to bombard him with questions about exactly what had gone on. Hermione used this opportunity to look over at the Slytherin table again, but Malfoy and Zabini had gone, probably off to watch the match.
"Ha Fred" Ron was saying, "Now George has a girlfriend and you don't."
"I'm still by far the better looking twin" Fred grumbled, "and I don't see hoards of beautiful girls lining up for you either Ronnikins."
"Yeah, at least Fred has Angelina" put in Ginny. "All you have is Aunt Muriel."
"What exactly is the deal between you and Angelina anyway?" Harry asked Fred, as Ron made a rude hand gesture at his sister.
"Let's just say we're friends with benefits" winked Fred, cockiness restored.
"You lucky git."
Ginny smacked Harry on the side of the head. He hurriedly put an arm round her and tried to dig himself out of a hole.
"I just meant, lucky in the proverbial sense of the word, you know? I don't see the attraction personally. Not that Angelina isn't pretty of course" he added hurriedly, as Fred threw a bagel at him. "But you're the only one for me Gin."
"Vomit much?" Geoge groaned as Ginny, looking mollified, kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. "However much we like Harry, can you try not to fondle him while we're eating breakfast?"
As the conversation deteriorated into a "who fondled what" insult match, Hermione decided that this was her cue to depart for the Library.
"See you later" she told everyone, standing up and heading off for to entrance hall. The rest of the school was ambling out the front doors in pairs and groups, most of them with cloaks and umbrella's over their heads to shield themselves from the rain. Hermione rolled her eyes and made her way up the stairs. It wasn't just that Quidditch appeared to her a violent and time consuming hobby (Harry and Ron frequently put off homework for the sake of Gryffindor training) and one with absolutely no brains required, but also that standing outside in the wind and rain, with the whole school screaming themselves hoarse over an outcome that had very little importance in the grand scheme of things, seemed pointless to her. But she knew this was a view that very few people shared with her, so kept it to herself. She wandered along the corridors, gazing out the windows at the pouring rain and humming, her mind taken up with work she had to hand in the next week. When she got there, the Library was almost deserted save for Madam Pince and a few dedicated seventh years who had chosen NEWTS over Quidditch and were working on essays. She made her way to the Potions section, thinking that she'd find a book to help with their latest project on antidotes, when a flash of blonde caught her eye. Surreptitiously, Hermione peeked over one of the shelves, knowing before her eyes confirmed it who she was going to see. No-one else at Hogwarts had the same trademark hair. Malfoy was browsing along a row full of old, dusty books, his back to her and hands in his pockets.
She wondered what he was doing there, instead of outside with everyone else. It wasn't like him to miss a match – he was Slytherin Quidditch captain after all.
"Can I help you?"
Hermione jumped and immediately blushed as she realised that he was staring at her, an amused smirk playing on his lips.
"No. Just looking for a book."
"Then how come you sound so guilty, Granger?"
"I don't sound guilty." But Hermione felt herself blush deeper. There was no way around the fact that she had been spying on him.
"I thought so" said Malfoy smugly, turning away and resuming his browsing.
"Excuse me?" Suddenly she was angry, the jaunty tilt of his head making her want to hit him with a powerful bat bogey hex. Where was Ginny when you needed her? "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Can't keep your eyes off me can you?" he replied arrogantly, still with his back to her.
"What the hell are you on Malfoy? Are you seriously implying that I find you attractive?"
"I'm not implying anything Granger, I'm telling you you do. Few girls, if any are resistant to my charms."
Hermione spluttered, unable to believe he was actually coming out with this shit. No-one, and that included Lavender Brown, mirror hogger extraordinaire, could possibly be that egotistical. And so wrong.
"You need to get over yourself and wake up to the fact that you're a pathetic, death eater low life" she hissed. "Nothing more than a spoilt, evil, slimy little cockroach". And with that she turned on her heel and stormed away. But she'd gotten no further than two steps when her arm was caught in a vice like grip and Malfoy spun her round to face him, his grey eyes cold and furious. They were only inches apart and Hermione had to tilt her head up to look into his face, realising they'd never been this close before to notice how tall he was – he must have been at least 6 foot. Really, they'd never even touched until now, unless you counted the time she punched him (and she did like to count that, it being one of the only impetuous moments of her life) and Hermione was surprised, though she knew how stupid this sounded, that his skin wasn't as cold as she'd imagined.
"What did you say?" he asked her, almost in a growl.
"You heard" Hermione whispered, half scared that someone was going to come round the end of the row and misinterpret their closeness. It was making her uneasy, his body nearly pressed on hers, her back up against the bookshelf.
"Death eater" Malfoy said, his voice at it's most dangerous. It wasn't a question.
"I – " Hermione faltered, there was something about the way his eyes burned with suppressed anger that took the words right out of her mouth. The next instant he had placed his hands on the bookshelf, an arm on either side of her head, caging her in, and was leaning in to speak low in her ear. Hermione gasped as she felt his breath on her neck.
"Listen closely Granger. You can call me anything you like, any insult you and your pathetic Gryffindor friends think of, but don't you dare call me a death eater. Don't ever presume you know a damn thing about my life. "
And with that he let his arms drop and walked away without a backwards glance. A couple of Ravenclaw first years scurried out of his way with frightened glances and Hermione winced, trying hard not to imagine the expression on his face. She's never seen Malfoy so angry before. What could possibly be going on his life for him to deny being a death eater so vehemently?
Hermione didn't know. But she was going to find out.
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