A/N: Hello everyone! Good first few weeks back at school(Britain)? I'm terribly sorry it took me so long to write this chapter, but I've only recently gotten back to school and have been over-piled by homework, barely finding time to write, hehe. This chapter is a bit different then the rest I think, focusing more on the Ron-Hermione relationship than the Malfoy-Granger, but come on, it's not like they would suddenly love each other after 5 long years of mutual hate, and I want to make it as realistic as I can. I've changed the storyline of the HBP, but that's only because it seemed fitting and appropriate with my story. For anyone who is wondering about the kiss, from Malfoy's point of view it was an impulse and at that time he really felt absolutely nothing positive about Hermione, being an adolescent teen boy who hadn't kissed for a while does seem to make you irrational sometimes(not that I would know, being a girl and all, but I can imagine) I'm thinking of writing a chapter from Draco's point of view on the whole thing, have no idea when though, but expect it, and other later.

Please, please review, because that would be Ahhh-mazing and really helpful!

Flashbacks *winks* are in Italics.


Chapter 3

The Dispute of Ron-I-am-an-idiot-Weasley and Hermione-awesome-Granger.

"So, you're sure you're okay with that?" Harry asked, his tone full of worry. I nodded curtly, mumbling that I was fine and there was nothing to worry about. Leisurely, I shut my bag and flung it onto my shoulder in a circular motion, not thinking much of him worrying. Harry was always worrying this year. Harry and Ron went off to the Quidditch pitch ; the tryouts were happening today, and I would head down later if I could. Harry had just given me his charms essay, and I was to correct it; it was due the next day, but Harry had been too preoccupied with, hmmm, things, to put real work into it. I had caught a cold the previous few days, and even though I was getting better, I still felt under the weather. Due to the fact that it was chilly outside, I decided to take shelter in the warm insides of the Library,my one good sanctuary; that way I would also have books to help me with Harry's homework( as if I would need them, pfft). Madam Pince gave me a half-smile and a short nod as I walked in, barely looking up from her own book, being used to me by now. The door shut behind me with a thump, and I went to my favorite spot; in the corner, but near the windows and fireplace, feeling slightly calmer. I plunked down onto the plush fabric of the patterned armchair, feeling relief from tiredness soar over my body. My bag was thrown onto the table before me in a messy heap, parchments and books tumbling out. Harry's essay rustled as I picked it up, the light cast by the fire giving my hand a rather orange glow, and my nails reflected the rolling ember tongues. I scanned through Harry's messy script instantaneously, using my wand to correct some spelling mistakes and every now and then rearranging, or adding a sentence or two. After I was finished, I stood up to get a book, to try and distract myself from the daunting headache cluttering my thoughts, and my sight fell on the Alchemy, Ancient Art and Science, definitely an interesting read.

About half and hour or so passed, by which time I felt much better, and I garnered my things to head down to the Quidditch pitch. After all, it was important for both Harry and Ron; the tension as to who would be on the team was huge.

The crowd was rather quite large by the time I arrived and Ron seemed to be doing quite good, although this McLaggen guy's going was great as well. My lazy walk to here consisted of no amazing events; I saw nearly-headless Nick(who was ever so outraged I wasn't down at the 'stadium') Mrs. Norris; the sudden appearance of the feline made me uncomfortable although it wasn't past curfew or lesson time, but it hastened my walk to here anyhway, and Ferret boy, Malfoy. Harry told me that Malfoy had to be up to something, but Malfoy looked untethered, and I think he hadn't even noticed me, lost in his brooding self. I cheerily climbed up to the Gryffindor side of the pitch, slightly out of breath as I clambered up the wooden steps, and looked over the cloud-filled sky; it was Ron's and McLaggen's last goal. Ron looked emotional and worried, his eyes going wide and his ears flustered slightly. I decided to help him, even though I really shouldn't have, but poor Ron really deserved to make the team. As Ginny closed in on McLaggen I muttered a Confundus spell, secretly pointing my wand at his bulk, that made McLaggen completely go into a different direction, resulting in him not fully achieving the score. Ron had saved all of the attempted goals at him (but barely!) , and ,thus, made keeper.

The celebrations were absolutely awful in my humble opinion, and even I have to sometimes agree that parties are good. Lavender Brown had gotten her long, manicured claws into Ron, in a way a lion might attack it's long observed pray, and they were literally eating their faces off by the armchairs. When I walked into the Common room, and seen them laced with each other by the fireplace, I froze in my stride, not capable of performing any other task than mindlessly stare at them. It seems something inside me broke at that particular moment, an already frail, glass-like object, shattering into millions of diminutive pieces. It wasn't to do with Ron, no- and of course it wasn't to do with Lavender- but more like the feeling and emotion they had for each other- more Lavender than Ron- and it just crumbled me. My last 'boyfriend' was Krum, and I hadn't given him more than a peck on the cheek, I was sixteen; I should be experiencing stuff like that, having fun..

I shook my head clamorously, trying to shake these distressing thoughts from my incompetent mind. I hadn't thought of that depressing day for very long, after all it didn't matter, but the reminiscent image seemed to have imprinted on my mind. I was truly ecstatic for Ron, he earned it, and like I mentioned before, there were absolutely no romantic feelings for him in my case. His attitude about this quite happy situation, however, was horrific; he always acted too smug and more proud than normally when Lavender was in our company, the outcome giving me the impression he wanted to show off or something alike, implying he desired me to be jealous, or irritated. The latter; no, the lesser; an unbelievable amount.

We had quarreled about it a couple of times, shouting hurtful things, and sometimes I thought that we would cross the boundaries, break the friendship, and to be honest, sometimes I really would've liked to, but on the other hand I really wished it would stop; I was worried about my tests, additionally had Malfoy to be wary of, and I didn't want to lose Ron as a friend. He was like a brother to me; a very annoying, stupid brother, but a brother-like figure nonetheless. With these thought swirling around the fuzzy remains of my mind, I made my way to the 3rd floor, my destination; the Library.

"You might want to hold your breath, Draco, I smell Mudblood." Pansy sneered at me, having a delighted triumph in her mascara-framed eyes as she walked alongside Malfoy with her posture proud, daring anyone to insult her. Not with him, but alongside; she was trailing after him like a puppy-dog, but Malfoy didn't seem to notice that much, really. He smirked at the rude comment, and I was able to take notice of the look in his eyes suggesting that he had a cruel, and no doubt imaginative, remark at the ready, it was so obvious that his sharp tongue would lash out like new-born wildfire, hurting deep and hard. He opened his mouth, showing even, white teeth, to express it out loud, but I cut him off with a glare, desperately clinging to the sanity I had left, and turned my attention to Parkinson.

"Shut up, you stupid PUG!" I hissed , emphasizing on Pug, as I turned around with my curly hair whipping my face and almost ran out the corridor, tears threatening to roll down my face. Somehow, I held my head high and back straight until I was out of sight.

I had SO much on my mind, and I didn't need him to add to my worries. Ron was being unbelievably thick and- and arrogant, we almost argued every single day. What was his problem with McLaggen anyway?! It's not like I EVEN like him, or tolerate him for that fact, and what if I did, anyway? IT'S NONE OF HIS BUSINESS! But no, he's always like, 'Why don't you ask McLaggen, Hermione?' or 'Cormac would know' and then he glares at me, like I-like I CHEATED on him or something! Boys and their unimportant issues irritated me to the last brink of sanity, and some days I wish I could just detach myself from everyone to prevent resentment from building up. He had Lavender, why couldn't he just leave me alone? GRRRRRRRR!

By now tears were falling thickly onto the book I was supposed to be studying from, staining the yellowed,crisp pages, but the words were blurry and incoherent, and to read and actually understand what was written, I had to re-read the same sentence over and over again, finding it extremely hard to focus. I still couldn't concentrate, and the information left my mind as fast as it entered, not leaving any trace behind. I shut the ancient book with a loud thump, and dust rose up from the pages, tickling my slightly red nose. I loved that old, book-y smell of the Library; it bought me peace, made me feel safe.

Suddenly, my mind drifted to our first Potions class of this year, and the smell of Freshly Mown Grass, New Parchment, and something- quite musky, but very fresh and, if I was to elaborate more on it, I would say it could be; a dark regal scent of spiced woods, cool damp notes, masculine florals(perhaps? very difficult to describe) and a hint of wormwood- (but then again I'm no perfumer expert) Oh God, it gave me butterflies in my belly just thinking about it.

Needless to say, I could forever be trapped and engulfed by that scent with absolutely no objections. I smelt it occasionally around the castle, though very, very faint. I wondered what it was, racking my brain feverishly for answers, desperately needing to solve the curious mystery. My reckoning was that it must've been something to do with Hogwart's, because I only ever smelt it here, and that made ideal sense; Hogwart's was like my second home. However, it was in only some parts of the castle, weirdly never in Gryffindor tower...

As the tiresome weeks went by and Slughorn's over-the-top party was nearing, closer and closer, I was very worried about my standing with Ron; we were friends, then we weren't- It was all quite confusing really. I fought an exorbitant amount with Malfoy, (uncouthly, we crossed paths a lot), but I still have not attended to my duty of informing him of anything about his results from Potions Class, and, to some extent, it began to bug me, but you must understand, there simply wasn't any occasion, or the time and place...

"What's up?" I said as I sat down on Gryffindor table zestfully, opposite Ron and Harry, instantly thickly inundating some toast with my favorite conserve (Ah the glorious raspberry). Harry's emerald eyes were glued to the Paper already, more specifically to an article about Malfoy's house being searched; all this Malfoy-is-really-evil crap was obtaining a classification of old. I rolled my eyes dramatically at the intent on Harry's face, desperately trying to find out if they caught Malfoy or acquired some dark evidence against him. Worse than a FanGirl. Truly.

I ravenously bit into my mouth-watering toast, starving, and happily chomped on it without a care in the world. So far the morning gave off the vibe of proceeding and unfurling into a pleasant day; I woke up very cheery and open-hearted, dressed myself buoyantly and almost hopped to breakfast like a young girl. So, here I was, finishing my toast with a finally satisfied hunger, I looked over at Harry, hoping he'd have finished reading by now, but my smile faltered as I saw Ron's expression and icy glare.

His customarily warm, sky-blue eyes, were shooting daggers at me, and he looked like he might as well hurt me in a second or two. My eyes darted to where Harry had been sitting, but he was gone now, disappearing into the toilets or likely another secluded space, to spy on dear Malfoy. Ron's vehement glare was piercing right through my skull,
and a very ugly and vile feeling started unfurling in my stomach, which I could identify as all the anger I shut down these past weeks, coming to the surface.

"What's your problem, Ron?!" I hissed at him, narrowing my eyes as if he had some sort of disease.

He started growing red until his skin matched his hair, and, very slightly, small orange freckles stood out in contrast.

"What's my problem?! It's you who has a problem-"

"Me?!" I flinched at the slight screech in my tone, but felt it was very appropriate.

"Yes, Hermione, YOU!" He glared at me, trembling slightly with rage, and swallowed what seemed like a growl, "You always have to be better than everyone, well- newsflash- it's not always true! I can be just as good as you, and we don't need your bigheaded atti-

"I don't think like that! It's you who's gotten some sick impression-"

"Oh, me is it?! 'You should have done that days ago, I did it last weekend'" He mimicked me in a very high and childish voice, like I was the annoying brat in school who reminded teachers of homework. Okay, maybe I do do that, but only sometimes, and it really isn't the point. He also made this weird hand gesture next to his neck, a weird twist of his wrist, which undoubtedly was supposed to copy the flicking of my hair.

"Well, it's not my fault I do my assignments for school on time, and by myself!"

"I do things by myself-"

"OH yeah? Like what?!" I vociferously threw at him. We were standing, shouting now, but it was okay, since the great hall was nearly empty, besides, I couldn't care less about the group of onlookers observing us with great interest. My cheeks were burning bright red and I was trembling myself, feeling tears prick at the corner of my eyes, but I fearlessly stared into Ron's abyss-like glare, not planning to back down.

"That - That's completely not the point! You have to alwa-"

"And perhaps, if you're so jealous of my work," I continued, whilst Ron's face turned a dangerous shade of burgundy, " You could stop wasting all your bloody time snogging Lavender!" I exploded, nearly letting all the things I really wanted to say pour out of me. Nearly.

Ron curled his hands into fists, the knuckles growing a light shade of pink, as he was flustered everywhere now. "Maybe," He banged his hand on the wooden table angrily, "I wouldn't bloody snog Lavender all the time if you stopped trying so hard to achieve well to go to your stupid Slug club to be with Cormac!" He roared in one breath, breathing rapidly to calm himself down. During his little speech, I had gotten so furious I wished I could throw myself onto the floor and start screaming in rage, but I didn't, instead fueling my next few lines with as much cruelty as I could muster.

"What do you care anyway?! If I want to kiss Cormac I bloody will, and that's absolutely none of your business, you-you buffoon! At least he's interested in me and I'm really glad that he is! I enjoy it and I want to, because requited love feels good, Ronald! I at least don't snog him in front of everyone who it may bug, since it's so bloody disgusting. You keep snapping at me like I did something wrong, and I very well didn't, so back off you selfish idiot! And leave Cormac alone, because I do what I want with him and you can't stop me, I'm sick of the way you act and the way you treat me, like I'm the worst criminal in recent history and you're supposed to be my friend! Well guess what, Ron? I enjoy Cormac's company much more than I enjoy yours, you're arrogant and selfish, and I'm sick-sick-sick! I've done nothing to deserve this, yet you seem to think it's fine-" I couldn't stop myself. All the negative things poured out of me in a flash, and I added lies I knew would hurt Ron deeply, but that's what I wanted, I wanted him to hurt as bad as I did.

"You- You're so stupid Hermione! You simply can't-" but I cut him off before he could continue, he crossed the line and he was going to pay for it.

"No, you're the stupid one! I always have to help you with work, but you know what? You can do it by your bloody self now!" I snarled, taking my bag. He stammered as he tried to bite back, but only managed an inaudible mumble, which I really didn't care about the content of.

"I hate you, Ron Weasley." I hissed as I turned around to cast him one last withering glance, heading for the library.

-How could he say that to me, how could he...-

I stomped out of the hall and past Harry, who had a look of deep worry and shock sprawled clearly on his features. In one hand he held a piece of worn-out parchment, which was definitely the Mararauder's Map, and in the other his wand; he has had been spying on Malfoy. That only seemed to make me angrier and I rushed from him, from Ron, and from them all, breaking into a run as I turned the corner.

I don't know for how long I ran, but my initial destination, the Library, changed to random spots of all over the castle until I felt I would most likely suffocate and die from the lack of air. I collapsed on the stairs, somewhere around the 7th floor, and I sat there winded for a while.

Sobs quickly escaped my mouth, and in a moment's notice hot tears were flowing freely down my face and dripping onto my robes, while the sounds of something wailing echoed around the room. It was desperate and agonising; the voice seemed to be in such pain that it was unbearable to think about it. Then I realized it was me.

I sat bent over, clutching my chest in desperation,for that is where it hurt me the most, and cried myself until a faint, throbbing headache arrived in my temples. It didn't seem painful at first, but got unbelievably annoying after some time passed.

-Just like Ron-

I thought; Seems okay at first until it suddenly releases it's true self and potential, and then annoys and hurts you into oblivion. That was exactly what Ron was. My sniffles had nearly finished, and with these thoughts there was one last sob from me as I rested my back onto the step behind me, exhausted from the crying. I lifted my wand to my head and muttered a spell to ease the headache, which, to my greatest happiness, worked perfectly and my head was free of clutter again.

"Granger?" A cold voice, singed with surprise, uttered quietly.

I groaned, really not in the bloody mood to have a fight with bloody Malfoy. Out of all people, Malfoy had to find me, after I cried my eyes out and ridiculed myself for acting so hastily. There were quiet footsteps echoing around the stone room, and then Malfoy slowly lowered himself next to me; none of his nonchalance or pompous air about him. He sat wit his lithe hands rested on his knees, meeting in the middle, and his profile was that of calmness and elegance, looking out ahead, showered in twinkling moonlight.

-God. I had been here all day.-

"Everyone's looking for you, you know. " He stated simply, as if he was discussing the weather conditions for the Quidditch world Cup, but then he hastily added, " Although I can't imagine why they would want to."

"And I suppose you were the first to come looking for me?" I asked weakly, my throat very sore from the crying I've been doing. It had a sort of annoyed twinge to it, as I was still very ruffled from the mornings event, and I slowly brushed a stray hair out of my face, aiming to at least look a little like I hadn't been bawling my eyes out.

There was no change in his very cool expression, and he seemed like a perfect statue made for a very rich queen or king, destined to be upon one of the most important exhibits.

"Of course, how could you even ask?" He drawled, with a faked note of disappointment in his tone, and I couldn't help but smile slyly to myself. Malfoys are always going to be Malfoys.

"Come off it, Malfoy. You stumbled upon me by accident, didn't you?" It wasn't even a question, to consider it a question would be stupid, it was more of like an honest statement as my tone was clearly describing the truth, which I was so used to. I hated lies, HATED, yet I lied to Ron; and those weren't even white lies, insignificant, meaningless, no, these were horrid, horrid things.

Malfoy clutched his hand to his heart over-dramatically like I had just shot him, "Your words hurt me, Granger, how could you, for even one second, doubt me?"

I stole a glance in his direction and his normally sneering features were settled into a furrowed brow and a cheeky pout, his grey eyes looking at me with a strange, amused glimmer,but there still was the faint resemblance of a smirk, and he met my brown gaze, which was still furling around in anger at Ron Weasley's outrageous behaviour. Malfoy's behaviour unsettled me just as much; there had to be evident cause to this, or perhaps Malfoy wanted something from me, and was going around it rather weirdly. I narrowed my eyes at him, content to see his face turn into that of impassiveness again, but I hoped he wouldn't go back to being the cruel boy he was everyday. Still, our arguments and bickering were definitely in the hottest times this week; he insulted me with Mudblood I'd try to hex him while pulling out some good insults that had to irritate him, I insulted him with ferret; he'd strike back mercilessly reducing me nearly to tears and it went on and on. So, yes, this was very strange and my mind repeated a mantra to me 'don't let your guard down, don't let your guard down' almost vibrating off me and into the room.

"Good, they're supposed to." I whispered, maybe a bit too vehemently, but he, like always, seem unbothered, or even a little complacent.

"Mighty Granger reduced to tears by her boyfriend, what did you fight about? His two-timing?"

"None of your business, Malfoy" I replied hotly, feeling like I was on the right path to execute all my ill-findings of the day on him.

He held his arms up in defense, although the familiar, triumphant sneer was starting to edge it's way onto his pale contours,

"Hey, I just wondered what he could have done to make you say, and let me quote, 'I hate you, Ron weasley.' Did he suggest you have a love triangle or something?" He wiggled his pale eyebrows suggestively, and I wanted to smack him really hard across his face, maybe give him a black eye or something, just to wipe that smug look off his face. He was getting to me, and he was very clearly enjoying it; in some aspects this was even worse than his cold degenerate mocking.

"It. Is. None. Of. Your. Fucking. Business. Malfoy." I hissed vigorously through gritted teeth, not even attempting to keep the pure, animalistic rage out of my tone, which was wavering slightly, because I had started trembling, each tremor sending me into another set of rage.

"Oh, please Granger, if you wanted to keep it a bloody secret you could've simply done so in more private quarters, but no, you had performed it in the great hall, putting on a great show for everyone-" Malfoy was smirking gleefully, joyful at the opportunities my fight with Ron had given him, and I just wanted to mutilate him, cut his bloody guts out and make him eat them, squash his head until his evil brains squirted out of his ears- literally every gruesome thing I could imagine. He really was the cold, evil, vile, demonic, wrong, disgusting, satan-like (I could go on with the adjectives) boy Malfoy was made out to be, and I glared at him, trying to place all my emotions in my eyes. By now he was nonchalantly leaning on the side wall, his head held high, and he was just so bloody smug it took all of my frail self control to avoid charges of attempted murder.

Malfoy continued his drawl, which by now was even colder and haughtier than before, "I never knew you could tell such lies, Mudblood." He seemed to eye me with apprecitiation. Fake appreciation, don't forget Hermione. " I mean, Merlin's beard, McLaggen and you?! Don't make me laugh, you can barely look at that blood-traitor without flinching. At first I really thought you made a Love potion to make Weasel and Potty jealous, but not even you could make a potion that would cause his infatuation to last for so long if he was unwilling."

I could feel my ears and face growing red at his remark, and guilt started clawing at my insides as I remembered what I had done, and the things I said. The heat of the moment made me irrational and illogical, which happened to me so rarely, it was like a person drowning in air, and not only had I hurt Ron(I still felt no remorse at that) but done it in public, which turned out to be more than a small group of onlookers.

a.) I had someway confessed that I, erm, liked or requited Cormac's infatuation with me.
b.) Actually suggested that I already do things with him.
c.) I said I enjoyed his company.

Malfoy was still in the same position as I looked at him, although his stormy eyes were gazing at me expectantly, no more looking insolently out of the narrow windows.

As I said nothing, still processing everything in my head, he pushed his lean figure off the stone wall and started walking away languidly.

"Who's crying now, Mudblood?" Malfoy said quietly as he was halfway to the archway, but his tone was so full of anger and bitterness I took a sharp intake of breath, his comment stinging me deeply.

I sat in silence until he disappeared, glaring at his back as he moved lazily, his posture slightly proud. I wondered if I had really made it so obvious that I couldn't stand Cormac, because then Ron wouldn't believe it. But how had Malfoy noticed?

Actually, mine and Mafloy's conversation could be classed as banter- he had made me feel slightly better, if you could believe it, I had to suppress a grin as I recapped our exchange. He had only gone over the civil line because of his curiosity, but it's not like the first things out of his mouth were "Eurgh, Mudblood, could you stop spilling your filthy tears all over Hogwarts?" or "Why so sad Mudblood? Weasley get you up the duff? No? Crying over imaginary relationships, are we?." I chuckled slowly as I realized I had gotten used to him so much I could make up the insults for him, and it somehow didn't surprise me. Soon after he left, I got myself together; his presence suddenly made me let go of self-pity, and I started vigorously walking to Gryffindor tower, all the while my thoughts filled on how to get more revenge on Ronald.

It was the end of Ron's and mine friendship, definitely, after the stunt he pulled. He seemed to have started regretting it as Christmas time neared; the crisp snow outside smothering Hogwart's grounds in a thick white layer of fluff, and the halls were deliciously decorated with red and green. Weird... The two colours made each other look so much more vibrant and- better, enlaced in each other, the gilrands swung over many archways and corridors in holiday glee. The air was thick with christmas-y things like gingerbread, pine needles and snow; mistletoe, hot cocoa and firewood. The corridors were full of excited chatter and whispering, carols and laughter could be overheard almost anywhere in the castle, and groups of girls piled under bunches of glorious mistletoe-no doubt waiting for Harry. Walking through the grand doors of the Great Hall (Decorated with gold and silver angels who winked and twinkled at me, the light reflecting off their wings in opaque beams), I realized with regret that the musky-but-fresh-and-so-fudging-addicting smell wasn't among the scent of caramel waffles and white coffee.

A bulky, tall figure blocked my path to the Gryffindor table, casting a shadow over me as he approached, a big grin painting his handsome-but-extremely-annoying feautres,

"So, Granger, I hear you like me back, eh? I mean I know that finally you'd come to your senses and all, but it was incredibly convincing. You were simply playing hard to get weren't you?"

Great. The person I've actually managed to avoid being, from the falling-out with Ron and onwards, alone with, was standing in front of me. Great. Bloody marvelous.

His presence suppressed my cheery holiday feelings and I gave him a stony glare full of distaste, trying to maneuver my way around his impressive body. He, however, blocked my path sidestepping side to side and grinning cheekily at me, he must think this is some kind of a game, but then I saw a red-haired boy walk through the doors of the great hall. ' This is my chance.' I thought, the opportunity was almost too good. So I put on my dazzling smile as I looked at Cormac with half-lidded eyes and my lips slightly pouted, wanting to appear as seductive as I could, and when the Ginger-haired boy was looking in my direction I gracefully leaned in to Cormac's face, giving the impression I was going to kiss him, but changing direction at the last minute, brushing my cheek against his and saying quietly into his ear, yet withing Ron's earshot,

"Me, you, Slughorn's party today at 8. Don't be late..." I velvety drawled to the boy, making my voice as seductive and full of desire as I could, although each word was gagging me mentally. Ron's eyes flashed with a glint of anger and sadness, and I smirked as I strolled past him to sit myself down next to Harry, who was reading that wretched book again. I knew I was going to probably pay for that later, but for now I didn't care, for now the results were fully worth it. My spirits were even higher than before, because while I had been having a side-step-battle with McLaggen , my favourite smell filled the air, and I helped myself to the delicious caramel waffles made by the elves, eating them plain- they were already amazingly delicious- thinking what the smell could be. I grimaced slightly at the thought of having to spend all of Slughorn's party with McLaggen, but then the image of Ron's obviously hurt face came swimming into my mind's eye, and I was sure I'd get through the whole ordeal without a problem. I could easily ditch Cormac and simply spend time with Harry or Ginny, or simply ditch Cormac and have fun anyway.

I shoved all my arithmacy books into my brown bag, eager to go eat lunch, and jumped out of my chair energetically when Professor Vector sent us off. Unfortunately for me, all the books I squeezed into my bag with haste tumbled out, dragging library and other school subject titles with them, and I sunk down onto the stone floor quickly, while putting my nearly empty bag on a table to my right. No matter, I'll catch up to the others or pop into the Library real quick before I go to devour half the Gryffindor table.

There were hesitant footsteps behind me, each making a soft thud, and I nearly whirled around in haste, as I realized I was probably blocking someone's path out of the classroom, but a drawling voice beat me to it.

"Granger, move out of my way." I slowly turned my head to Malfoy, who was standing there looking as irritated as ever, clutching a book tightly in his lithesome, pale hands.

"Why, is the ferret eager to go somewhere?" I asked cheekily, my mouth splitting into a sneering grin, and I picked up a rather old looking and heavy book, and gently put it into my bag with ease. Mentally, I prepared myself for whatever venomous comeback he had, knowing it would most likely sting deeply; ferret made Malfoy go mental when it came to name-calling. To my greatest surprise there was none of that and none of the sadistic shadow in his pale contours, none of his hair becoming slightly tousled as he ran his hand through the silvery-gold silk in aggravation. None.

"I don't have time for your bullshit, Granger. Just move your Mudblood arse to the side and I'll be on my way." I studied his face further, thinking this must be a ruse, a deviant plan or something. The only change there was, if at all, was that his face took on an even more ashen tone of colour, and his voice seemed really croaky as he spoke, giving the impression of a sore-from-shouting boy. I puffed my chest and squared my shoulders at the vulgar reference to muggle-borns, silently swallowing the flicker of pity for the boy. Hell no. He's not getting off that easy.

"No, me and my 'arse' shall stay right here, thank you very much, where we are quite content and comfortable."

"Whatever." Malfoy said and he started to try and push himself next to me, but I blocked his way and gave him a challenging stare.

What the hell are you doing? Why are you provoking this evil bastard when he wants to simply pass you?! What's wrong with you, Hermione?

"Move!" He finally shouted, backing away and giving me a glare that would've crumbled anybody, but not me, no, I stared back into his deep grey eyes with calm. That was when I realized what seemed so off about him lately, as he walked the corridors, as he worked in class -Not that I was observing!-. and as he just, was being, well, him. It was his eyes, his eyes that could make you want to shrivel up and hide when he glared, or start beating him to a pulp when he smirked. But the glint was gone, replaced by a dull twinkle of emptiness and numbness, now boring into me with a wild ferocity, and my bravery melted away. A brief, yet very clarifying, image of a boy who cried in the bathroom flashed in my mind, his lean shoulders shaking as he leant on the stone sink, the sobs almost echoing in my ears. Malfoy was definitely not one to cry, and not cry in secret but especially in front of others, and that night he let me comfort him, somehow, and see him cry.

There had to be something really, really wrong.

In my adrenaline-rush, I whipped my wand out and threw a very advanced lock charm on the door, one Malfoy definitely had no idea how to use, but to uphold it I had to be concentrated on it in my sub-consciousness, which was a minus, as that was very exhausting.

"What are you doing?!" Malfoy hissed, finally being able to push past me in my distraction, and hurried to the door handle. He shook it vigorously, then threw himself at the door twice, before giving me a quick glare as he took his wand out, pointed it at the keywhole and whispered 'Alohomora'. Nothing happened, but only I knew that, because as he performed a spell there was a powerful tug at my mind, urging it to unlock the door, and he shook the handle again before repeating the spell with more desperation in his voice. As the door stayed put, and I felt another strong tugging, but my concentration didn't waver at all, he slowly turned around to face me, his body language turning hostile.


Oooooooh I left you with a bit of a cliff hanger, haven't I? MWAHAHA

Sorry, hehe. Anyway, interesting? Exciting? No? PLEASE tell me if you can.
Next chapter should be up soon. (A week or two perhaps?)

Nox