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CHAPTER 4
The Gobstones game
Theodore Nott swore an oath to himself that, for the next Ancient Runes class, he would search the Library for a spell to make himself totally deaf. It was barely twenty minutes into the class and already he had a monumental headache. He wondered if his classmates would ever go hoarse.
That day, they had come up with the idea of bringing a set of Gobstones to entertain themselves. They'd haphazardly removed all the tables, leaving a free area in the middle of the classroom, and created a track for their Gobstones right there, holes in the floor included. Good thing they could be magically closed afterwards, or so Nott thought.
He turned back to the previous page of the book he was reading, intending to read it again and learn something. With all the commotion in class, he'd had to read the same paragraph twice in order to take something in. And even then he hadn't managed to do so. However, the words he was rereading were suddenly buried by a small piece of folded parchment that had landed in front of his nose. The dark-haired boy flinched and looked around, startled. The vast majority of his classmates were fully immersed in the exciting game of Gobstones, while the usual peaceful students were quietly chatting away in the corner of the classroom. No one was paying the slightest attention to him.
He picked up the parchment and unfolded it, to discover a brief message inside:
Thank you for getting my wand back, I really appreciate it.
I really hope that it didn't cause you trouble.
The note was unsigned, but there was no need to do so. Nott knew perfectly well who had sent it to him. He looked up and fixed his gaze on the back of the neck of the only person who remained seated in the centre of the classroom, at the only desk that had been spared from being moved to a corner. Hermione Granger had flatly refused to get up from her desk so that Malfoy and the others could move it to a corner, and, after a heated argument, Draco's cronies had relented and left her there, since she didn't bother them for the game either. So the girl, tenacious as she was, was the only one properly seated in the lonely centre of the classroom, her back to the Gobstones' game, her nose buried in the book Ancient Runes Made Easy. Nott could only admire the girl's guts.
He had returned her wand to her the day before, in a quick gesture, as if it were something contraband, as he had passed her in the Great Hall. They hadn't spoken, to avoid trouble for both of them, especially Nott. In other circumstances he would have given it to her, as he had told Draco, in Arithmancy class; but they had no such class until the next day, and he supposed the girl couldn't wait until then. So Granger, not having been able to speak at the moment, had chosen to thank him with that note.
Suddenly, the voices of his classmates grew louder than usual, and a strange agitation seemed to take over the classroom. There was a cry of terror. Nott, still staring at the back of Granger's head, deep in thought, saw her face turn instantly in the direction of the commotion. He, too, watched a moment later, wondering what had happened that time; almost worrying at his own resignation.
His classmates had completely abandoned the Gobstones' game. Some had even moved away from the circle at what was happening there.
Sitting on one of the stacked tables, arms folded and glaring with hatred, was, unsurprisingly, Draco Malfoy. In front of him, as if defending him, a few students, Hopkins, Entwhistle and Pucey to be more precise, had raised their wands against another student, Zacharias Smith, who was screaming in pain and rage, while holding his hands to his face, without actually touching it. The entire surface of his face was rapidly filling with thick, pus-filled boils, which deformed his features, swelling and reddening them.
The ghoulish laughter of the attackers drilled in Hermione's ears until the young woman managed to pull herself out of her shock. Smith's moans of pain shook her from head to toe.
"Enough!" was the first thing that left Hermione's lips, jumping to her feet. "Enough! ENOUGH!"
She advanced towards them, wand held high and face contorted in anger. The circle opened up to let her through. It was enough.
A beam of light shot from her wand and struck Hopkins in the back. He was propelled forward until he crashed into one of the desks, knocking it over. The entire circle turned in Hermione's direction, with identical expressions of surprise. Draco only looked up to stare at her, but his face didn't change a bit and he didn't move a muscle in his body. The only thing that varied was the degree of hatred in his gaze, which threatened to burn her. Pucey and Entwhistle ceased their punishment and turned to look at the girl as well, both menacing and alarmed at her sudden attack. They both waved their wands in unison and pointed them at the Gryffindor.
Pucey's wand threw a beam of light at her, but the girl disarmed it with a wave of her wand. Two more waves and Entwhistle's wand flew into the air as well.
There was silence. The atmosphere could have been cut with a knife, and only Hermione's agitated breathing broke the crushing stillness. She stared at the two remaining boys with a loathing that bordered on outright hatred. Hopkins was still trying to get out from under the overturned desk. Smith merely lay on the floor, panting, and trembling with fear and rage. The boils were still on his face, but their number had not increased. He seemed to be slowly calming down, although it must have hurt like hell. Two pale friends of his came up to him, and put their hands on his shoulders.
Hermione whirled around to glare at the person who was obviously responsible for everything.
"Malfoy," Hermione managed to articulate with difficulty, her vocal cords trembling with rage. "You bastard — you evil —"
She couldn't add anything more. Pucey and Entwhistle, unarmed, pounced on her in an instant, catching her off guard. Pucey snatched the wand from her hands. Entwhistle pinned her arms firmly behind her back while his partner, with the girl's wand at the ready and a wicked grin on his lips, grabbed a lock of her thick hair and cut it unevenly with a simple but unfortunate Diffindo.
"What the — ?! DO NOT TOUCH ME!" warned the girl, frantically trying to get away from them, and at the same time watching as strands of her brown hair fell around her. The rest of the class gasped in horror. A few students bravely raised their wands and pointed them at them, but the remaining Malfoy supporters who were still standing, and who had not intervened so far, took up an aggressive stance in front of them. Hopkins joined them, still looking a little dazed from the blow.
Binns was the only one who did not flinch at what had happened. He didn't even raise his ghostly gaze. The rest of the students didn't even remember he was there, and the ghost seemed to be the same with them.
"Monsters!" Degenerates!" Hermione continued to shriek, kicking with all her might, to no avail. Pucey continued to trim her hair anyway, amused at her tantrum.
Nott jumped to his feet, white as a sheet. He skirted as best he could around the centre of the hubbub and almost ran to Draco's side. He was still sitting at the table, not moving a muscle, and staring at Granger with fierce satisfaction in his clear gaze.
"Draco, stop," Nott gasped, as soon as he was beside him. His friend wouldn't even look at him. "I'm serious, tell them to stop. They only obey you," more silence and indifference from his partner. Nott gritted his teeth. "Draco, stop them!" he shouted louder, getting the same response from the young blond.
"Let go of me, you cowards!" Hermione continued relentlessly. "LET GO OF ME!"
They did let her go, but not before they had taken care of a botched, uneven trimming of her hair to a length that didn't reach her shoulders. When they released her, Hermione fell to the floor on her knees in a small pile of her own hair, but she jumped to her feet, shooting so many sparks out of her eyes that she wouldn't have been surprised if they had burned the two young men. She watched in anger as her two tormentors laughed at her with loud guffaws. Pucey threw the girl's wand at her feet, still laughing.
Hermione picked it up in one swift motion. Taking advantage of the fact that they were both too busy laughing at her, she pounced on Malfoy, grabbing the front of his robes with both hands and standing barely an inch away from his face.
"YOU!" Hermione spat at him, so angry that the words could have pierced him. "You filthy, vile, disgusting cockroach, did you tell them to do this to me?!"
"No," the boy replied calmly, unfazed, as if she had asked him if he was wearing a watch. Nott, next to him, did seem startled by the girl's reaction. "I simply told them to give you what you deserved if you ever meddled in my business again. They thought of the comeuppance all by themselves. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't put your disgusting hands on my clothes," he added, arching an eyebrow and glaring at her hands, which were firmly clasped in his robes.
Hermione stared at him for a few seconds, looking like a bomb about to explode. Her face, congested and shiny, framed by even more disastrous hair than usual, lost its colour at his words. It was like a blow that brought her back to her senses.
"Well, that's enough! You and I are going to talk for real!" Hermione shouted at him. She pulled on him suddenly, using all her strength, trying to pull him off the table. The unexpectedness of the gesture caught Draco completely off guard, so he didn't react in time to avoid it and was forced to drop to the floor. As soon as his feet landed on the tiles, Hermione, without letting him react, unhesitatingly dragged him to a door next to her, which led to an old office.
"Hey!" one of Draco's cronies exclaimed, stopping laughing and realising what was happening. "Granger, stay away from — !"
His threat was to no avail, as the door slammed shut behind Hermione and Malfoy.
The abandoned office was nothing more than a small room, barely two metres long by two metres wide, whose capacity was mostly taken up by a large desk, most likely belonging to a teacher who had once occupied the room. There were a couple of shelves on either side filled with books with old files, strange and dusty jars, and unused rolls of parchment. A tiny, tall window overlooking the grounds was the only illumination in the room, except for the thin line of light around the door frame.
"All right, Malfoy," Hermione said, leaning her lower back on the edge of the desk, her arms firmly crossed. She had closed the door with a quick Colloportus so that no one would interrupt them. "Let's get this straight for once. We're adults, so let's behave accordingly. Why, if you can justify it, were you assaulting Smith like that?"
"I wasn't assaulting him," Draco replied mockingly, standing in front of her, staring at a bookshelf, also with his arms crossed. His look conveyed a deep impatience. Hermione began to seriously consider whether it had been a good idea to get into an office alone with a previously angry Draco Malfoy, but her own anger had betrayed her. She wanted to talk to him alone, no more nonsense, no one to interrupt them. She intended to appeal to his maturity and reasonableness.
If he had any of that.
She kept all her senses alert, ready to attack Malfoy at the first sign of threat, but he didn't seem interested in doing anything to her. He just seemed tremendously bored and eager to get out of there.
"Why —" Hermione began again, lowering her voice slightly to keep her frustration at bay, "— were your cronies distorting Smith's face and you just watched? I remind you that you're a Prefect — what kind of example is that to the other students?"
"He messed with me," the blond summarised reluctantly, composing a grimace of disinterest that seemed forced. His light eyes glittered in the gloom. "During the game. He is a sore loser."
"That's all? He messed with you?" Hermione replied, reddening with indignation. "What on earth did he say to make you do that to him?"
"Do you even care?" Draco spat, turning his face to her sharply. "Or rather, does it concern you?"
"No, I certainly don't care," Hermione admitted, closing her eyes for a moment and sighing. "Whatever you say, my answer is going to be the same: that nothing he said justifies what you were doing to him. But it does concern me."
"Oh, does it?" the blond mocked, arching his eyebrows. "For some special reason, or is it just that you have the need to stick your deformed nose everywhere?"
Hermione gritted her teeth, swallowing the thousand and one insults that gurgled in her throat. But no, she couldn't stoop to his level. She had to have her way, she wasn't going to play his game.
"I'm a Prefect, Malfoy, and so are you, even if you don't seem to be," Hermione mumbled, ignoring his tone and his words. "Sometimes I don't understand you... You have the highest marks in your Slytherin year after Theodore Nott, and that proves you're not stupid at all. Why do you do such stupid things then?"
"Maybe I'm stupid," Draco scoffed, giving her a wry look. The heated blush on the girl's neck increased.
"Stop this nonsense. I'm being serious," she hissed, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him. "Why do you do such horrible things? Why do you behave like a criminal?"
Draco ran his tongue over the surface of his teeth. Still with a forced half-smile on his lips. As if he wouldn't allow himself to show anything other than mockery at her criticism.
"And the Hufflepuffs cheer their champion... Anyway, Granger, to be honest I don't know why I'm putting up with this. You had managed to intrigue me, I thought you would have something more interesting to tell me; but you're just wasting my time for a change," he replied back, giving her a look full of disdain and turning to walk out the door. "And in such a small space it soon starts to stink of Mudblood... I'm off."
Hermione allowed herself an urgent gasp of air. Angrily.
"Don't you dare run away," she snapped, advancing towards him and resting a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. "I'm not going to let you do whatever you want — I'm going to —"
It happened in a quick movement that her eyes failed to catch. Suddenly Malfoy was in front of her, pinning her against the table. One hand closed tightly around her neck and with the other he pointed his wand at her face, jabbing the tip of it into her cheek.
"Enough, Granger. What I do, or don't do, is none of your business," Malfoy whispered an inch away from her face, tightening his grip. "And you're not going to do anything..."
Hermione gasped and spluttered, raising both hands in an unsuccessful attempt to pull his hand away. He had caught her by surprise. She hadn't even seen him pull out his wand. All she could make out before her were the Slytherin's grey eyes murdering her with his gaze. Eyes that sent shivers down her spine. Eyes that showed nothing but hatred.
"He's too strong..." thought Hermione, noticing how the air in her lungs was starting to get scarce. He wasn't squeezing hard enough to choke her completely. But his grip was firm. "He could strangle me if he wanted to..."
"I'm warning you," Draco added, in a terrifyingly calm whisper. Calmly. As if she wasn't running out of breath, "If you ever meddle in my business again, I'll do worse to you, Mudblood. If some prick suddenly comes along and messes with my father, like Smith did, I'll make him pay for it. And neither you, nor anyone else, is going to stop me."
He released her as quickly as he had grabbed her, so roughly that she lost her balance and was forced to hold on to the desk to keep from falling. Malfoy walked away from her towards the door without so much as a last glance at her. Hermione leaned on the desk with one hand as she rubbed her throat with the other, coughing and gasping, trying to catch her breath. His latest revelation triggering her brain.
Smith had messed with Lucius Malfoy? Hermione hadn't expected it, and she hadn't even heard anything. What had he said, some teasing about his imprisonment in Azkaban? Most likely. It had been two years since Lucius Malfoy had been sentenced to life imprisonment for being a Death Eater, but it was clear that there were still people who thought they could use it as an attack on Draco. As a way to hurt him. She could understand that Draco had been furious... but she could in no way justify his behaviour. Nor would she tolerate it.
Suddenly there was more light around her, so she looked up, intrigued, and in doing so caught a glimpse of the blond's dark shadow crossing the doorway. He seemed to have undone her spell.
She felt an intense surge of helplessness and anger. Without hesitation, she strode out of the office after him. Outside, everything was still as they had left it, with Smith sitting on the floor surrounded by his friends, Malfoy's henchmen turning their backs on the small pile of brown hair that had belonged to the girl, and facing the few students who had shown themselves on Hermione's side, ready to defend her. Nott was also still standing by the table Draco had been sitting on, but he approached his friend as he saw him leave the office ahead of Hermione.
"Malfoy!" she shouted, her voice a little broken from her recent choking attempt. He stopped his pacing and turned to look at her with his own cold, scornful stare. "Don't even think that your threats scare me, understood?! This is not going to end like this!"
After those words, there was an almost palpable silence in the classroom. Everyone in the room was staring alternately at Malfoy and Hermione, astonished, like spectators at a tennis match. Hermione was breathing heavily and her knuckles were white. Draco looked her up and down with arrogance and clear contempt. There was the vibrating sound of the bell that ended the Ancient Runes class.
"Let's go," was all that came from Draco's thin lips, and then he walked out the classroom door with his hands in his pockets, preceding his cronies.
Despite the tension in the classroom, when the bell rang, it seemed as if the world was moving at normal speed again. Hermione watched, her nerves still on edge, as some of her classmates tended to Smith, who was getting up from the floor in a visibly bad mood and not accepting help from anyone. Meanwhile, she pondered how to hide the disastrous haircut she'd had from Harry and Ron. At least until she could remedy it with some useful spell.
Fortunately, the assault on Zacharias Smith did not go any further. The boy missed the next few Ancient Runes classes, but Hermione only needed to have a brief conversation with one of his friends to know that he was all right. Apparently, he still had marks on his face from the boils. Besides, obviously, since the classes weren't being very productive, he preferred to skip them so as not to see Malfoy's face. Hermione couldn't blame him. Neither Smith, nor any of the other people who witnessed it, had the courage to report it to the teachers. Not even Hermione did.
But in her case it wasn't a lack of courage, it was something quite different. It was a matter of honour, of pride. Malfoy considered her no match for him, and she would change that. She wanted to be the one to make Malfoy pay for everything he was doing. She wanted to show him that she wasn't afraid of him, that she could defeat him. Her common sense told her to forget about that prideful attitude, and to report him before something really serious happened, but her stubborn Gryffindor heart wouldn't let her. It was as if the fights and arguments she was having with Malfoy were something private between the two of them, not involving anyone else. Something they had to sort out on their own.
That was why she hadn't even told Harry and Ron what had happened. She'd rushed to the Library, and then to a bathroom on the same floor, to fix her messy hair with a convenient spell, leaving it as tangled as ever and at its normal length, before she'd gone in search of her friends.
News of the assault didn't spread around the castle, either, as few people were aware of what was going on in the Ancient Runes classes in Professor Babbling's absence. Three days had passed, and Hermione was finally able to corner Theodore Nott when Arithmancy class ended in the second hour of the morning.
"Tell me immediately what Malfoy's weakness is," she snapped, as soon as she faced him in the doorway the boy intended to walk through. Nott gave her a puzzled look.
"What?" he managed to articulate.
"Malfoy has to have a weak point, a weakness, something! Anything we can use against him," Hermione exclaimed. She sounded equal parts angry and stressed. "I'm not going to leave things as they are. I didn't want to stoop to his level, but I see I have no choice. He asked for it," she narrowed her round eyes, which sparkled. "If I have to play dirty, I will. I'll beat him with his own weapons. He's taking advantage of the fact that Binns ignores everything? Well, I'll take advantage of whatever his weakness is. So tell me at once what it is..."
"I don't know," Nott denied. "I'm telling you the truth, I don't know what his weakness might be," he added hastily as he saw the fierce disbelief in the girl's eyes. "I'm not saying he's invincible, or perfect, but it's not going to be easy for you to find a weakness. Draco — he can be very cocky, but he's very private about his stuff."
"Everyone has a weak spot," Hermione spat, firmly, not at all satisfied with his answer.
"I agree, and I'm not saying he doesn't have one, but I don't know what it is. I can't help you."
"Well, you're the only friend he has with any brains, the only one who wants to stop him!" Hermione exclaimed, hysterically, as the two of them walked through the crowded first floor corridor. "Who else can I ask? If I ask Crabbe and Goyle I'll only get caveman grunts for an answer!"
Nott looked like he was about to laugh, but restrained himself in the face of the young Gryffindor's temper at the moment. He suddenly became serious.
"Look, Granger, I'll be honest, I don't know Draco's weak point, but if I did, I wouldn't tell you either. He's my best friend after all, and it's not like I have such a wide range of friends that I can do without him."
Hermione looked offended.
"I thought you wanted me to stop him, at least that's what you told me! And now you're telling me you don't want to cooperate?"
"I want to help you get him to change his attitude, but not like that."
"And how else?" Hermione snapped. "With that brute Malfoy, there's no way to make him see reason by fair means. He's out of control, Nott. He's behaving worse than ever and worst of all, there doesn't seem to be anyone who can stand up to him. You of all people should do something, you're his best friend after all..."
Nott let out a grim chuckle.
"How innocent you are, Granger," e said, shaking his head, almost amused. "Do you really think I'm capable of standing up to him? Draco isn't going to change no matter how much I ask him to. I've told you I've tried to talk some sense into him, I really have, but it hasn't worked..."
Hermione looked at him spitefully for a few seconds, then turned her face away and stared at the stone floor.
"Well, without knowing his weak spot, I don't know how to stop him," she thought aloud to herself. "If he's not listening to you, you can imagine how much he's listening to me."
"You'll figure something out," Nott encouraged her cautiously. "You're stubborn, you're annoying the hell out of Draco. I assure you."
She forced a smile almost unintentionally, though she felt rather depressed. She had no idea what to do about Malfoy, and not being able to solve a problem wasn't exactly something she was coping well with. It clashed with her perfectionist nature. She was a hard worker, and she fought to get what she wanted, but she felt that no matter how hard she fought, she couldn't solve it.
How could Malfoy's existence be so annoying?
Nott, meanwhile, while the young woman was pondering, had fixed his blue gaze on a bulletin board to read a poster on which they had changed the order of several classes for the following day.
"Oh, look, we Slytherins have Transfiguration first thing tomorrow morning instead of Charms..." he commented in a whisper, changing the subject drastically.
Hermione pursed her lips, realising that Nott wanted to keep Draco out of the conversation by all means and that she wasn't going to get anything out of him. She was disappointed. Talking to Nott was her last hope of finding something to confront Malfoy with. She was back to square one.
"Yeah, that's good," she muttered, distracted. "Well, I'm going to find Harry and Ron and join them in Charms. I'll... see you in class tomorrow."
"Yeah, sure," Nott waved her off, with a tiny smile that was meant to be friendly, and that failed to hide his relief that the conversation was over.
The girl turned and walked away down the corridor. She walked up several stairs towards the seventh floor, towards her Common Room. As she walked in silence, she wondered what her next step might be. Her conversation with Nott had been entirely fruitless... What now?
Wednesday afternoon's Charms class was one of those times when you could relax and gather your strength to get through the middle of the week. Professor Flitwick was a patient professor who allowed his students a certain amount of freedom in practising their charms. Usually, Professor Flitwick's classes turned into little jungles, with spells flying uncontrollably all over the place.
Another benefit of Charms classes was that you could have private conversations without anyone paying attention to you.
"It's surprising there haven't been any attacks," Harry commented in a whisper, as they half-heartedly practised the Snufflifors Spell. "I'm very intrigued by all this calm... It would have made sense that, now that everyone knows he's back, he'd attack more calmly, since he doesn't have to be afraid of being discovered."
"Maybe he's afraid of getting caught if he makes any mistakes in his attacks," Ron muttered hesitantly. "That's why he's trying to keep a low profile..."
"Afraid? Voldemort?" Harry replied in a disbelieving whisper. "No one's ever caught him, even at the height of his power. He shouldn't have any reason to be afraid; on the contrary. The way he's acting is very suspicious... He's planning something, I'm convinced of it."
"Maybe he wants people to forget about him, in order to —" Ron began, before he was interrupted.
"Well done, Miss Granger!" suddenly praised the high-pitched voice of their very small professor, coming up to where they were sitting. "But don't you think you should go and get your mouse and turn it into a book again? To keep practising, mainly..."
Hermione, sitting next to the two boys, came back to earth all at once, straightening up as much as she could in her chair.
"What — ? Oh yes, yes, of course, Professor!" she exclaimed, embarrassed.
She had spent the previous five minutes staring at the empty table, not moving a muscle, while the book she had managed to turn into a mouse at the first attempt had fled, and was now wandering around the hectic classroom. The young girl muttered the Summoning Charm to lure the elusive black mouse back into her hands.
"Now, now," Flitwick scolded her gently. "And you boys, do yourselves a favour and make the most of your time," he added, looking at Harry and Ron sternly and then taking small steps away.
"And what's gotten into you?" Ron wondered, eyeing her suspiciously, when the Professor had moved far enough away.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione replied quietly, focusing her attention on the mouse in front of her and waving her wand to turn it back into a black book.
"Of course you do! Don't treat us like fools!" Ron protested, ignoring his book, which was still perfectly lifeless. "You've been on cloud nine lately, even Ginny's been telling us so, even Flitwick's been telling you off!"
Hermione swallowed and bit her lip. She knew Ron was right, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't stop thinking about the Ancient Runes situation. She couldn't help but think about it over and over again, day after day, an action that was keeping her completely distracted. Even at lunch, she had been completely lost in thought, causing her friends to be bewildered. Consequence: Harry and Ron were worried that something had happened to her, and, to her own panic, even her attention in class was waning.
"Nothing's wrong with me," Hermione repeated stubbornly, dodging the stares of both friends and successfully turning her book into a lively mouse for the second time. "I'm just tired from having so many subjects, that's all."
"That's understandable, given that you're taking more than the average student, but are you sure there's nothing else wrong with you?" Harry insisted, suspiciously. "Is it the Ancient Runes thing?"
Hermione sighed inwardly. She felt a little embarrassed. She'd worried her friends enough about it; she had to try and sort it out on her own, without involving them. They already had their own worries.
"Yes, well, that's still annoying," Hermione improvised hastily, trying to be natural, "but it's almost sorted out, nothing worse has happened. It'll be over soon. Don't worry about me, really. I'm perfectly all right."
Her friends continued to look at her with concern, but they couldn't insist any longer as Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, who were sitting immediately in front of them, had turned to speak to them after giving up the exercise of turning a couple of textbooks into mice as impossible. Neville was sitting with them, but he was still concentrating hard on the exercise, albeit with no visible results.
"Have you heard what people are saying about Hallowe'en?" Dean asked, visibly pleased.
"Hallowe'en?" Ron replied, stunned. "Ah, it's this Friday, isn't it?" he suddenly remembered, his blue eyes widening. The dark-haired man nodded. "We haven't heard anything, what are they saying?"
"That Dumbledore is bringing Lorcan d'Eath to sing at the banquet," Seamus replied excitedly. "Isn't that cool?"
"Who is Lorcan d'Eath?" Harry asked curiously.
"A half-vampire singer who's very popular with wizards," Hermione answered immediately. "He started his career in —"
"Witch Weekly magazine has named him Man of the Decade several times," interrupted Parvati Patil enthusiastically, who was sitting in front of Seamus, Dean and Neville, and had been listening in on the conversation. "He's so handsome!" she added with a theatrical sigh.
"I suppose so, yes, but his past is very interesting," Hermione protested, obfuscated. "He's had a lot of difficulties because of his vampire half and —"
"Well, they say Dumbledore is going to bring him in," she was interrupted again, this time by Seamus. "I'll try and get him to sign a T-shirt I've got with his picture on it..."
"I don't think he's coming," a shy little voice protested. Neville had also turned around to intervene in the conversation. "He's going to be on tour in Transylvania for three months, and he's on a very tight schedule. I know because my grandmother is going to one of his concerts."
"Really?" Dean complained, disappointed. "Well, what a bummer."
"That'll teach you not to believe people's gossip," said Ron smugly. Then he added dreamily, "What I'm really looking forward to on Hallowe'en are those bone-shaped frosted sweets, those pumpkin pies with blueberries, those strawberry muffins —"
"I'm not going to take my eyes off you all night, I want to know how much you can eat," Seamus joked. Lavender laughed loudly.
The conversation continued. Hermione watched them, trying to look interested, but at the same time listening to almost nothing they said. Their conversations seemed, at the moment, shallow and meaningless compared to the worries she had inside her. And she felt rather selfish for thinking so.
She held back a sigh. She had to fix what was happening, she was incapable of leaving things as they were. And to do that, she had to stop Malfoy once and for all. But how?
Nott hadn't been willing to help her, and Malfoy wasn't going to reveal his weakness to her just like that. If she wanted to find out something about him that she could use against him and for everyone's benefit, so that he would stop making everyone's life miserable, she had to act. Investigate things about him. Spy on him.
Spy on him.
Hermione swallowed. That was the solution. By following him, spying on him, maybe Malfoy would reveal something useful to her without even being aware of it. But that was madness. How could she spy on Draco Malfoy? She remembered when she took Polyjuice Potion in her second year... and things didn't turn out so well. Cat's tail included. Should she try it like that again? No, if Malfoy hadn't even revealed his weakness to Nott, his best friend, he wouldn't reveal it to anyone she became. Talking to him wouldn't do. And she couldn't spend the whole day turned into some Slytherin and following him around, either: she had a life to live and classes to attend. She should spy on him subtly, unbeknownst to him, when she found the opportunity... It was a terrible and dangerous idea. Her common sense screamed at her that she could not do such a thing, but her conscience compelled her to do it.
She had to try.
And, having made that decision, she returned her attention to Harry and Ron, who were chatting animatedly. She was extremely grateful that neither of them knew Legilimency. She couldn't let them know what she was going to do, and it hurt her terribly to have to keep something like this from them. She hated lying to them.
"I'm so sorry, guys, but I have to do this…" she apologised in her mind, just as Flitwick was coming to reprimand them again for wasting time so blatantly in his classes.