"I bet you think you're hot stuff, don't you, Granger?"
Hermione hadn't been outside during her break time for five minutes when Pansy approached her. She closed her book and set it to her side on the bench.
"I don't know what you mean, Pansy," said Hermione. "Please elaborate on what a slut you think I am, because I know it's coming."
For days Pansy hadn't seemed like herself. Well, she did, but just a bit more spiteful towards Hermione . . . if that was even possible. Having been paired for patrol duties with Ernie MacMillan, Hermione didn't exactly expect her to take it well, especially when Hermione was paired with what Pansy considered her "boyfriend," an association Hermione found nearly comical, but still sad, after what Malfoy had told her.
"You know what I mean," snarled Pansy. "And you are a slut, you're right . . . but what have you done to Draco?"
Hermione blinked. "Again, Pansy, I don't know what you're talking about."
Pansy's eye twitched slightly. "I'm not stupid, Granger. Neither are you, 'cleverest witch of our age.' We both know you've messed him up badly."
Hermione heaved a great sigh, slipped her book into her bag, and stood up to face Pansy. "Look, I don't know if something's wrong with Malfoy. All I know is that he's seemed sick since Monday morning. He's probably just not feeling well."
"How would you know he was sick Monday morning?" asked Pansy, placing her hands on her hips.
"I happened to glance over at the Slytherin table in a casual, non-awkward, normal way to see if anyone else wasn't feeling well," said Hermione. "I wasn't feeling great that morning, either, so I just glanced over to see if anyone who was on patrol duty was sick, because Ron seemed fine." She analyzed the angry expression on Pansy's face and shrugged. "Curiosity isn't a sin, Pansy."
Pansy rolled her eyes. "I get that. I just wanted to know if you maybe knew why he wasn't feeling well." She looked around, as if to check for other students who might've been eavesdropping. When she saw that no one was listening, she sighed and looked down. "He's hardly talked to any of us these past few days, and I wasn't sure if you had something to do with it." She now looked back up at Hermione, glaring. "I thought maybe you'd upset him or something."
"As much as I wish that I was always responsible for Malfoy's terrible moods," said Hermione, "I didn't do anything to him. Really, I could care less about him, so don't worry about me taking him from you. I didn't hurt his feelings because, again, we didn't speak at all on our last shift."
"You didn't have to speak," said Pansy. "I bet you came onto him, didn't you ― ?"
"For the last time, Pansy, I don't care about Malfoy!" said Hermione, with a raised voice. "He's your idiot of a boyfriend and you're his pathetic, tag-along girlfriend. Are we clear? To be honest, I don't think that anyone in their right mind would come onto someone like Malfoy. . . . You really need to refine your tastes, Pansy."
Pansy scowled. "Draco's worlds better than your blood-traitor, Muggle-loving boyfriend."
"He isn't my boyfriend," said Hermione, "because I, unlike you, don't need constant validation from a member of the opposite sex that I'm not stupid and desperate."
Hermione stormed past Pansy, preventing her from saying another word or objection. Pansy had been acting like this ever since Malfoy wasn't well, but Hermione never had to talk to Pansy about it. . . . She was snapped out of her thoughts by the sight of Harry and Ron coming towards her, looking a bit exasperated.
"Sorry," said Ron, once he reached her, "but we got stuck talking to some Slytherins back there..."
Hermione glanced over at the congregation of Slytherins, which Pansy had now joined, flashing their silver badges and singing a chorus of "Weasley is Our King."
"Just ignore them, Ron," said Hermione.
Ron furrowed his brows. "Oh, so I should ignore them, but you can't ignore that pureblood git ―"
"Better watch what you're saying, Weasel."
Ron suddenly fell to the ground, pushed down by Malfoy, who was followed by his gang of Slytherins. Turning around, they all laughed and started another verse of their song. Hermione took this chance to get a closer look at Malfoy. He still looked a bit paler than usual, and the bags under his eyes were still very noticeable. His laughing was weak and appeared to be forced.
"Looks like he's still not well," muttered Hermione. She gripped Ron's arm tightly and attempted to help him up.
"I think you'd better watch it, Malfoy," said Harry, stepping forward to face Malfoy, but none of the Slytherins were interested in Harry at the moment. They had all surrounded Hermione and Ron at this point.
"How cute," said Pansy, squatting down beside Hermione to face her at eye level.
Hermione narrowed her eyes and quickly glanced at Malfoy, who had his hand on Pansy's shoulder and was forcing a malicious grin.
Whether she meant to or not, Hermione pushed Ron aside and stood up. "Aren't you going to support your girlfriend, Malfoy?"
He smirked. "Of course I am, Granger. I'm just supporting her from a distance." Pansy flashed him a look of confusion and anger, and he laughed. "What I mean is you can handle this on your own . . . girl to mudblood, you know?"
Taking Malfoy's offered hand, Pansy stood up and smirked at Hermione. "He's right . . . I'll take you like he said, girl to mud ―"
Hermione interrupted Pansy by pushing her as hard as she could into Malfoy, knocking them both backwards onto the grass.
"Yep, girl to mudblood," she said, grabbing Harry by the arm, who had helped up Ron while she was talking. "Harry, Ron, let's go."
She walked away from the group of Slytherins, arm in arm with Harry and Ron.
"Again, Hermione, that was bloody brilliant," said Ron.
Hermione decided not to come down for lunch in the Great Hall that day, too infuriated by the morning's events. She told Harry and Ron that she felt a little sicker and that she needed to lie down. She instead stayed up in her dormitory, on her bed, and made another diary entry:
Dear Diary,
I've come here again because I can't say this to Harry or Ron. Well, maybe I could tell them part of it, but it wouldn't be very satisfying at all, because it's not the whole story.
I sincerely regret having begged Malfoy repeatedly to just say something the other night ago when he was so silent, because one of the things I even thought he could call me, if only to break the silence, was a mudblood. I should really be used to getting called that by now, but it doesn't make it any less offensive.
I just don't understand. Just a few days ago he was telling me his entire life story for no reason, and now he's back to being a bully?
He still looks sick, though. Everything he did today seemed a bit forced, like he was too weak to put any actual effort into it. In that sense, I felt a bit bad for him again.
But why should I? He was being ignorant and horrible. I'm not coming to his rescue after that ― he knows that I've got all of this information on his family. If I were him, I wouldn't take a risk like that anymore.
I don't know what to do.
― Hermione
She gently closed the book, set her quill on her nightstand, and laid down on her back. Like on the night he was so silent, she realized that she never thought she'd be trying to go ten minutes without thinking of Malfoy. She hated thinking about him. It only brought back horrible memories, including the ones that were made that day...
She braced herself for the rest of her classes that afternoon, because she knew she'd have to face Malfoy after dinner for another wonderful patrol.
Hermione leaned against a wall as she watched the crowd of Gryffindors pass her, no doubt containing Harry and Ron. She sighed. What she wouldn't give to have a patrol with Ron again, as annoying as he could be sometimes. . . .
Trailing behind most of the Slytherins, Hermione noticed Draco ending a conversation with Charlotte Butler. Nothing looked different about his appearance; in fact, he seemed completely unaffected by the morning. Hermione was disgusted, finding it hard to believe in her current state of anger that anyone wouldn't be bothered by such a confrontation. She was even more appalled by what he intended to be a polite nod in her direction as a greeting, after the way he acted towards her.
Once he caught up to her, he spoke as if nothing had happened. "So, where do you want to patrol first ―"
"I've said it once and I'm going to say it again," said Hermione. "You're a foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!"
Malfoy looked a tad confused. "You're a bit too close for comfort there, Granger," he said after a short pause, putting his hands on her shoulders and pushing her back a bit. "Just let me explain ―"
"You don't need to explain anything!" she yelled. "You're just pathetic!"
Malfoy took a step back. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb, Malfoy!" she said. "You pushed Ron down for absolutely no reason, just to be spiteful!"
"Was he or was he not talking about me first?" asked Malfoy. When she didn't give an answer, he continued. "And what did you expect me to do, hug him? I swear, Granger, you're so naïve ―"
"No, I'm not!" she said. "See, you're still being a bully!"
"Two weeks ago that wouldn't have shocked you," he said, a scowl growing on his face. "When did it become surprising?"
She took a deep breath. "I just find it odd that you would continue to act like that when I know so much about you now."
"Then you clearly don't know as much as you think you do." He crossed his arms and leaned against the same wall that Hermione had minutes before. "Go on, tell me my entire life story, I'm dying to hear it."
"I'm just saying, Malfoy, I wouldn't push around Ron again," she said. "He's my friend and I'm willing to defend him, no matter what it takes. And if that means I have to tell the whole school ―"
"You wouldn't dare," he growled, moving away from the wall and getting in her face.
"You're a bit too close for comfort there, Malfoy," she said, pushing him backwards, much harder than he pushed her. "And I would. I'm not your diary. I don't have to keep your secrets."
"With everything I have on you, I would," he said. "What would happen if I just happened to slip something to my father about you and your little band of heroes trying to sabotage Umbridge's ―"
"How do you know about that?" she hissed.
Malfoy smirked, pleased that he was in control again. "I have my ways, Granger. I've heard talk that there's this group she's going to start up for those who oppose your little plans." He laughed at her horrified expression. "If you play nice, I won't let her know anything significant about yours."
Hermione stared at him in shock. "That's a lie. You're going to tell her the first chance you get."
He raised his eyebrows. "You're so trusting," he said coldly, "that I don't even think I'll give it a second thought. Maybe I will go to her about it."
"You wouldn't dare," she said.
"Do my words taste nice, Granger?" he asked, rolling his eyes.
"Like I was saying, Malfoy, after what you did to Ron, I feel like I really should tell the whole school," she said.
"For some reason I feel like this has nothing to do with Ron," said Malfoy, after a moment's deliberation. "Not entirely, anyway. I think Pansy offended you more ―"
"Oh, you mean your girlfriend ― ?"
"Not today, Granger ―"
"I'll tell them, Malfoy, I swear ―"
"What'll you tell them, honestly? What's there to say?"
Hermione pushed him into the wall and grabbed him by his sweater. "I'll tell them everything," she said, through gritted teeth. "I'll tell them about your family, how horrible they are to you, how they force you to be their little puppet and do everything to make them look good. I'll tell them that all of your friendships are based off of your status and nothing else. I'll tell them ― especially Pansy ― that your relationship with her is superficial and only because your parents wanted you with whoever they chose. I'll tell them that you lie about having power over them because you're weak, Malfoy; you act like you're so in control of your parents all the time and yet you have to run to mummy and daddy for help all the time because you can't handle your own problems. I'll tell them how you only bully people because your parents bully you!"
She let go of him and he slunk down against the wall to the floor. He refused to look at her. As her breathing quickened, she felt immediate remorse.
"You ― wouldn't ― dare." He finally looked up at her, with what looked like a glint of tears in his eyes. "I ― I knew that you wouldn't because of the way you looked when I told you. I could tell that even though you hate me, you wouldn't say anything about it."
"That's just because I have a heart, Malfoy," she said, unable to find the proper words.
"What, and I don't?" he yelled, as he got to his feet.
"That ― that's not what I meant ―"
"Of course it's what you meant!" he said, shaking his head. "You know it's what you meant! Draco Malfoy's a heartless little shit because he pushes people around that deserved to get it in the first place. I swear to Merlin, had I the right to give you what you deserve ―"
"Draco, calm down, please!" cried Hermione. He looked shocked at the use of his first name instead of the surname that she used so often, and promptly stopped yelling. She didn't even bother to wipe the desperate tears off of her face as she spoke. "I didn't mean anything that I said. I'd never tell anyone anything, you're right, because I'm not heartless and cruel. But I didn't mean that you were, not at all! I ― I actually f-felt quite the o-o-opposite a-after you t-t-told m-me everything. . . ." Hermione trailed off as she broke down, sobbing, and slumped down on the floor.
Malfoy stared at her for a few moments, forcing the angry tears back as well as he could. "I ― I'm . . . sorry. I was . . . I don't know, I just . . ." He began to slowly walk away from her, confused as to what to do.
She slowly rose to her feet and managed a light smile. "But you ― you're apologizing."
His back was turned to her, but he stopped dead in his tracks. He tried to turn his face back to her, but barely could manage it, for he knew she'd notice the pink tinge on his face. "Er...yeah." He attempted to continue walking, but Hermione had run around to face him.
"You apologized!" she said, smiling through the tears.
"Are you bipolar?" he asked, turning his face away from her. "You were just upset ―"
She laughed, wiping away the streams that the tears had left on her face. "I'm proving your point. You do have a heart, see?"
"I never believed for one moment that I didn't," he said to the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets. "But good to know it affirmed it for you there."
"I always knew you weren't heartless," she went on. "I'm just rather enjoying this. . . ."
"Please go away," he said, ducking his scarlet face down and tried walking around her.
"No." She ran to his left, seized him by that wrist and pulled him back. "You can't run away now, we still have a shift to finish."
"It's over soon," he said, checking his watch on the right wrist. He looked down and noticed her grip on his left wrist and he pulled it away, his face turning paler. "Please . . . please don't grab me like that ever again."
She laughed. "I just needed to stop you," she said, rolling her eyes.
"No, I just mean . . . never mind," he said, walking off.
Hermione chose not to stop him this time. He walked on, flustered as ever, his heart racing. He knew what did it, but this time was different.
She needs to stop trying to be the light in everyone's lives, he thought, because one day, whether we like it or not, innocence will shatter and on that day she'll regret everything, including touching that wrist.