CHAPTER 5: Confliction

"Ronald, you're cutting it wrong!"

Draco snorted, Ron ears flamed red, and Hermione grabbed the scalpel from Ron's hand.

"Cut it like this," she demonstrated, cutting even, thin slices of the shrivelfig. It was a stark contrast to Ron's thick, chunky, uneven slices. With a sigh, Hermione went back to the cauldron and continued counting. Ron could be in as a foul a mood as he liked; Hermione wasn't going to let him screw up her potion. Thirty one, thirty two, thirty three...

"Draco, I need those leaves."

He slid them into the cauldron easily. Hermione could feel her hair frizzing from the heat, but she paid it no mind. Forty, forty one, forty two...

"Ron, the shrivelfig, please."

Ron passed Hermione to board to put in herself. A brief look showed he hadn't tried much harder to cut the ingredient any neater, but it would do. Hermione now held a heavy board in one hand, and a stirring spoon in the other. The potion needed to be stirred whilst the ingredients were added, otherwise it would blow up in their faces. Hermione didn't need to look at Ron to know there was a dark grey cloud above his head.

"Draco, would you stir this for me?" Hermione asked as politely as she could. Draco smirked but accepted the stirring spoon, continuing the pace she'd set. The shrivelfig hissed as it entered the cauldron, turning the potion from a vibrant red to a pale pink. Hermione reached out to take the spoon from Draco's grasp and their fingers grazed, but Draco wouldn't relinquish his grip. A shot of electricity ran through Hermione's arm and she briefly wondered if Draco felt it too. His expression gave nothing away.

"You have to stir it fifty -"
"Fifty seven times," Hermione finished promptly.
"Yeah," Draco muttered, and he let the spoon slide into Hermione's fingers.

A glance at the clock showed that class was about to finish. Hermione couldn't be more thrilled. The tension in the air was so thick, she could have cut it with the spoon in her hand.

Fifty six, fifty seven!

"Now what?" Hermione asked, turning the heat down with her wand. Truthfully, she had been asking Draco that question as he was leaning over his book, but to Hermione's surprise it was Ron who answered.
"You give it to Snape," Ron grumbled. As he spoke, Snape's voice echoed through the classroom.
"Everyone should be up to step thirty seven by now. Bring a sample of your potion out, labelled, to continue on with next lesson. Now!"

Hermione trusted Ron a whole lot more than she trusted Draco, so she handed him a sealed vial of their potion. He slouched off to Snape, leaving Draco with Hermione, who immediately started chatting.

"He doesn't seem very happy," Draco said, sounding cheerful.
"Can't say I blame him," Hermione snapped, cleaning up their desk. "You've been making jabs at his family, his hair, his social status, his money -"
"Or lack thereof," Draco interrupted gleefully. Hermione glared at him.
"Oh, just stop it, Draco," Hermione scolded. "Do you have to be such a git all the time?"
Draco smirked at Hermione, shrugging. "Does he have to be so easy to pick on all the time?"
"You know, you don't make it easy to like you," Hermione said softly.

Snape dismissed the class just then, and Hermione happily left Draco at the desk to finish cleaning up. She refused to look back at Draco, who's eyes were boring into the back of her head. Harry and Ron had already escaped the classroom and were walking through the dungeons when Hermione caught up. Harry was complaining about Pansy and her refusal to touch the ingredients.

"Something about animal cruelty," Harry said grumpily. "I mean, come on! They're already dead!"
"At least you didn't have Malfoy," Ron grumbled. Harry shook his head.
"I would have preferred him to Pansy," he said. "And that's saying something."

Ron scoffed in reply, but they were silent until they reached the Great Hall and were seated for lunch. Hermione was just digging into a beautiful ham sandwich when Ron turned to her.

"Since when were you and Draco chummy?" Ron demanded, saying his name like it was filth underneath his shoe.
"We aren't chummy," Hermione replied.
"Well, when did you start calling him Draco?" he snapped.
Hermione huffed. "Oh, I don't know, about third year?"
"Rubbish."
"This might shock you, Ron, but I was raised to call people by the name they were designated at birth, not their surname," Hermione snapped. She lowered her voice. "Besides, there's a war brewing, and partaking in this childish game of yours does nothing but make the war even more likely. It's none of your business if I start being civil to the people that you hate, and it's definitely not my fault if you can't handle that. Grow up, Ron."

Hermione sent Ron a scathing look, feeling good at the look of shock on his face, and flounced out of the Hall, ignoring the curious looks of other students.

"Ginny, honestly. Leave it. I've told you many times that it's just a crush, and it'll disappear soon."
"Talked to Draco recently?" Ginny wondered, chewing on a sugar quill. Hermione shook her head, then scoffed.
"Unless you count the Potions classes we have together, which may as well be classified as torture with Ron there. It's always so tense."

Ginny nodded understandingly, knowing that Ron could be quite a damper on romance, if her experiences with Dean were any indication.

"Anyway, what would be the point in speaking to him?" Hermione asked rhetorically. "He probably doesn't even… you know… he probably isn't even affected."

Ginny's face twisted into an expression that resembled Fred and George when they were devising a plan. She grinned mischievously.

"Alright, so to figure that out, all you have to do is catch him alone."
"It's not that simple, Ginny."
"Sure it is. You've done it before, haven't you?"
"Yes. Accidentally."
"Quit your complaining, 'Mione. Start being a bit more optimistic!"

Draco POV

"I hate this," Draco exclaimed, throwing down his quill. Blaise looked at him warningly; they were in the library and he didn't want to get kicked out.
"Just go talk to her already. You've done it to plenty other girls. How hard can it be?"
"Your mind might automatically go to girls, but I was actually talking about my essay," Draco said dryly, gesturing to his parchment which had a measly three lines of writing. Blaise rolled his eyes.
"You're just distracted," he said smoothly. "She's playing on your mind so much you can't concentrate."
Draco rolled his eyes. "And pray tell, which girl is so enrapturing that she distracts me from my work?"
"Hermione, of course."
"I'm not in love with her," Draco snapped. Blaise was not subtle, and Draco could see where this conversation was headed.
"Alright. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Oh, wait… you're not sleeping at night, are you?" Blaise looked at Draco knowingly, making him scowl.
"Shut up, Blaise. I'm sleeping fine."
"Did you know you talk in your sleep, mate?"

"I said to shut up." Draco glared at Blaise. He didn't actually talk in his sleep, but he knew what Blaise was hinting at, and Draco didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being right. Hermione had been appearing in his dreams. Not for long, but her presence was prominent.

"Just because you can't handle the truth. Look, Malfoy, it's simple. You're a boy. She's a girl. You're both sixteen. Do you want to know what I see?"
"I'm sure it's sex."
"You don't have to make it sound so crude," Blaise grumbled.
"You want to know what I see, Blaise? Gryffindor, Slytherin. Mudblood, Pureblood. Golden Trio, Death Eater. It's not as simple as you make it seem."

Blaise sat in silence as he thought, forgetting about his essay. Draco returned his attention to his own essay, cursing Professor McGonagall. Was this essay really necessary? Who cared about Gamps Law anyway?

Blaise finally spoke up, but he spoke quietly. "Are you really going to let all of that stop you?"
"More like that's going to stop her," Draco sighed. "She's brave, but not that brave."
"She's best mates with Harry freaking Potter. I think she's more brave than you are."

Thoughts of Voldemort flashed through Draco's brain, an awful reminder of his mission and his failures so far. As if Hermione could compete with that.

"I don't think so, Blaise," Draco mumbled. "Can we please just get back to this bloody essay?"
"Fine, fine," Blaise agreed, grinning as if he'd won something.

They worked in silence, the only sound the scratching of their quills upon parchment. Draco had almost finished his essay (as compared to Blaise, who kept getting distracted and had only written a few paragraphs) when he spoke.

"Do you really think I should talk to her?" he asked quietly. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back. They made him sound so pathetic. Perhaps Blaise wouldn't hear him.
"Yes," Blaise said firmly. Draco's heart sunk, Blaise had heard after all.
"I don't love her," Draco repeated, more to himself than Blaise.
"But you do like her, don't you? Even just a smidgeon?"
Draco scowled at Blaise's childish tone. "Maybe," he allowed.

Blaise grinned and returned his attention to his essay. Perhaps he intuitively knew that Draco had reached his limit of awareness for tonight, because he didn't bring up Hermione again once, instead asking questions about the homework and quidditch. Draco sighed in relief when he finally finished his essay.

"I'm all done, can we go back to the common room now?" Draco asked, already packing up.
"What? No! I'm only halfway done, come on, you know I never get any work done in the common room," Blaise begged.
"You don't have to come," Draco pointed out. Blaise grumbled but packed up his belongings too.
"I hate you," Blaise muttered.

Draco liked Blaise. It had taken him a while to become accustomed to Blaise's quirks, but overall Draco liked his individuality. It was a breath of fresh air compared to the other Slytherin's, who were much like Draco - stuffy, egotistical and snarky. Blaise was an outcast from his family, having never bought into the blood purity ideal. He never made a big deal out of it. He respected everybody else's beliefs, but wouldn't let his be swayed. Draco knew he was currently under stress from his family, and he was on the brink of being disinherited. Blaise didn't let it keep him down. He already had enough inheritance from his grandfather to live twice, anyway.

The two boys entered the common room, Blaise moodily heading to a shadowy corner, ignoring the girls' pleas for him to join them. Blaise shot Draco an annoyed look, and Draco smirked in return.

The dormitories were empty when Draco entered and he revelled in the silence. He was exhausted and usually struggled to sleep with the other boys' snoring and talking all night. Of course, his own thoughts of a girl and of a wizard kept him awake, but Draco refused to let that get in the way of his rest tonight. He ducked into his warm covers and fell asleep within minutes.