Hermione began spending a lot more time in the library after Harry and Ron's disagreement. She'd tried forcing them together, as she did on the disastrous night going down to Hagrid's hut, and she'd tried spending time with each apart, but that left little time for all her other side projects, namely house-elf research and somehow getting to know Malfoy.

She and Ron still talked during mealtimes and classes, but Ron had started hanging around Seamus and Dean, both of whom knew that something was going on between Ron and Harry. As Harry was being shunned by Ron and most of the school, she felt his need was greater. She invited Harry to spend the evenings with her in the library, which she suspected he accepted mostly out of loneliness. It was obvious that Harry missed Ron, but he was adamant that he would only speak with Ron after Ron apologised for calling him a liar.

Another benefit of spending her evenings in the library was that Malfoy seemed to prefer completing his homework there, too. Hermione always made sure to choose a table where her view of Malfoy was unobstructed, so she could observe anything that might help her figure out how to approach him.

Unfortunately, Viktor Krum also spent an inordinate amount of time in the library, which meant that a gaggle of simpering girls was always nearby, making so much noise that Hermione seriously wondered if Madam Pince had gone deaf.

One such evening, after Hermione had let out yet another irritable tut, Harry packed up his bags and told her he was heading back to the common room. She watched him go, tension tightening his shoulders.

She pitied Harry — he'd had a rough go of it today. He was usually decent at Charms, but he hadn't been able to perform a simple Summoning Charm, clearly out of inability to concentrate. And Double Potions could be ghastly for him on the best of days, but Snape had been extra vicious since Harry had been pulled from class early for some interview or something.

Hermione had been trying to help Harry break through his block on the Summoning Charm by learning more about the theory, but it seemed like he would need more practical experience. She quickly scratched that spell onto the list she'd begun preparing for when Harry and Ron made up and they could all start practising their duelling skills.

Hermione turned back to her work, stealing a furtive glance at Malfoy as she did so. He frowned down at his parchment before throwing an irritable glance behind him, where a group of students gabbled and giggled in barely-hushed tones.

Viktor Krum was sitting at a table near hers, which meant his fan group was hiding just behind Malfoy's table. She studied Krum for a moment, who was ignoring the din of his admirers as if he were used to it. He probably was.

As if feeling her eyes on him, Krum suddenly looked up, catching her gaze to offer a small smile and an apologetic shrug. She felt her cheeks heat as she returned his smile and hurriedly looked away.

To her enormous relief, Madam Pince finally roused herself and swooped down on the noise, chasing them out of the library. Engrossed in watching Madam Pince, Hermione was startled by a chair scraping out across from her and Malfoy dropping into it.

Malfoy didn't look up. He plunked his bag on the table, laid down the parchment in his hand, and went back to his homework as if nothing had changed. Hermione stared, waiting for him to say something. Over Malfoy's shoulder, she saw Krum peeking around at her with a perplexed expression.

"What are you doing?" Hermione finally asked.

Malfoy looked up then, a smirk on his face and his grey eyes glittering. "Isn't this what we do, Granger?"

She sat gaping at him, having no answer for that.

"What's the matter, Granger? Potter and Weasley break up?" he said maliciously.

Hermione recovered herself. "That isn't any of your business, Malfoy."

A glint of metal in the torchlight drew her attention to the front of his robes. Some sort of badge? She'd seen Pansy fiddling with his lapel at dinner, attaching whatever it was.

Malfoy noticed where her attention had gone.

"Like it? Here, watch." He pressed the badge and glowing red letters showed up.

Support Cedric Diggory - Hogwarts Champion

He pressed it again and the red letters melted into luminous green.

Potter Stinks

"I'm sure I can find one for you if you want, Granger."

Hermione's mouth twisted distastefully. "No, thank you."

She turned back to her work.

Suddenly, a thought struck that Hermione felt should have been quite obvious from the beginning; Malfoy was jealous of Harry. Despite all of Malfoy's Pureblood, magically-privileged upbringing, he envied the scrawny boy in glasses with the lightning scar. At Hogwarts, Malfoy had to create opportunities for attention and prestige for himself. Harry earned them by doing nothing at all, and earned even more when he did do something.

Malfoy and Ron had one thing in common, then.

After a moment, Hermione spoke again quietly. "Harry didn't put his name in for the tournament, you know. He didn't ask for any of this. In fact, he doesn't want it at all. He's quite miserable."

"Why should I believe you?" Malfoy spat. "Potter's always loved playing the celebrity — even from his first day at Hogwarts."

"As I recall," she replied slowly, "you wanted to be his friend that first day."

Malfoy scoffed. "Shows what you know, Granger. Potter clearly had no clue what he was doing and I was only offering to help. Once I found out what a prat he is I turned out better off."

"Come off it, Malfoy. From hearing it told, he only reacted that way because you introduced yourself by insulting Ron and Hagrid. Doesn't it get lonely being better than everybody else all the time?"

Malfoy's mouth opened furiously but before he got a word out, Madam Pince was standing over them, flapping her arms in a shushing motion. Apparently their voices had risen slightly above a whisper during their argument.

Malfoy turned his furious glare on Madam Pince's back as she walked away and out of sight.

"What a joke," he whispered angrily. "Those birdbrains can hang around fainting over Krum all day before she'll do anything about it, but we say two words and she's whinging on about 'violating the sanctity of the library' or some rubbish."

"I know," Hermione hissed fiercely in agreement. "It's ridiculous. And I've a mind to ask Krum to study elsewhere, but it's not really his fault. He's been a perfect gentleman."

Malfoy gave her an odd look at that last bit. Abruptly, she and Malfoy realised at the same time that they were having a perfectly agreeable conversation, and they both dropped their eyes to the table. Over the next hour, the only sounds at their table were those of quills scratching on parchment and thick pages flipping from old, dusty tomes.

Hermione checked her watch and found it was already half past nine. Malfoy's head was still bent over his own work.

She was unsure about whether to say anything else — it had begun to feel almost normal sitting here with Malfoy — but it wasn't like they were friends. He looked to be in the middle of a very lengthy paragraph anyway, so she decided not to bother him.

While packing up her bag, Malfoy gave no outward sign that he noticed her preparations, but she saw his quill pause and his eyes follow the book Harry had given her, Case Studies in Civil Law: Magical Creatures and Beings, Third Edition, as it went into her bag with the others.

He looked up then and she nodded at him briefly. He didn't respond, only watched her for a moment before looking back down.

Surprisingly, Krum was still seated at the next table over, too. She thought he'd gone back to his ship for the night, but Malfoy must have just been in the way of her line of sight. Krum also appeared absorbed in whatever he was reading as she left the library for the common room.

Harry was waiting for her when she climbed through the portrait hole; he'd received a reply from Sirius. Sirius wanted to talk to Harry through the Floo in Gryffindor Tower in two weeks' time, on the twenty-second of November, and Harry needed Hermione's help to ensure the common room was clear by one o'clock in the morning.

Pulling it off likely wouldn't be too difficult, but she assured Harry that she'd come up with a few ideas in case there were any stragglers that evening. Hopefully they wouldn't need to resort to dropping a bag of Dungbombs.

Harry also confided his increasing apprehension about the first task, which would take place on the afternoon of the twenty-fourth of November. Hermione listened sympathetically and tried to console him as best she could, but Harry's nerves weren't to be soothed.

Ron would have known what to say, she thought mournfully. Harry and Ron were her best friends, but they simply connected on a different level than she and Harry about some things.

To distract him, she instead showed Harry the list of spells she'd come up with so far for duelling practice (their discussion about practising now seemed like ages ago). Not only was it important to prepare for Voldemort's return, but Hermione thought Harry might feel less jittery about the upcoming tournament if he were better prepared in general. She promised that during their free periods and even mealtimes if he wanted, they would find an empty classroom and begin training. Hopefully when Ron finally came around, he wouldn't be too upset that they'd started without him.

Unfortunately, things did not improve over the next few days.

Not a week later, an article about the Triwizard Tournament — written by some jumped-up journalist named Rita Skeeter — appeared in the morning's paper. The article was mainly a load of made-up rubbish about Harry, but somehow Hermione's name got dragged in.

Skeeter purported that Hermione, a "stunningly-pretty Muggle-born girl", was in fact Harry's current love interest. Hermione and Harry had both rolled their eyes upon reading it. She'd never even met this Skeeter woman.

Unfortunately, the fabricated romance was one of the few lies that Harry could dismiss lightly. Over the remainder of the day, the rest of them were thrown back in his face constantly by the other students — mainly Slytherins.

Later that afternoon, a week before the first task was set to take place, Hermione was waiting out in the dungeon hallway between Ron and Harry before Potions class. Ron kept his distance, standing closer to Dean and Seamus than to her and Harry. Malfoy waited a little ways down the corridor behind her, balancing one foot against the wall, the other Slytherin boys lined up beside him. A hum of chatter echoed around the stone hallway as everyone waited on Professor Snape to arrive.

"Granger."

Pansy Parkinson's shrill voice came from behind her. Hermione turned to look at Pansy, who had a furled up copy of the Daily Prophet in her hand. Her gang of Slytherin girls surrounded her.

"Can you believe the rubbish they wrote about you in here?"

The chatter in the hall died down as people turned to watch. Puzzled, Hermione tilted her head and made no response.

"Oh come on, Granger. Stunningly pretty? You? What was Skeeter judging against — a chipmunk?"

Pansy and her gang laughed raucously, doubling over and clutching their sides.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. She grabbed Harry's arm, who had opened his mouth to retort, and tried to turn him around with her.

"Ignore it," she murmured. "Just ignore them, Harry."

Unfortunately, she didn't notice Ron leaving his spot from the wall to shield her from Pansy until it was too late.

"Watch your mouth, Parkinson," he said angrily. "Just because you're jealous of Hermione doesn't mean you have to act like a complete cow."

Pansy and her group of girlfriends gasped. Several of the Gryffindors sniggered appreciatively. Pansy's face contorted as she worked up a response, looking around at the other Slytherins.

Spotting the Slytherin boys next to her, she shot out a hand and grabbed Malfoy by the front of his robes, pulling him in front of her. At a little push from Pansy, Malfoy spoke.

"Just bugger off, Weasley. She wasn't even talking to you."

"Yeah, Malfoy?" Ron replied. "Well Hermione's my friend, and I won't stand by while she's being insulted."

"Really, Weasley?" Malfoy drawled. "You didn't seem so keen to jump in for Potter the other night. Quite the opposite, in fact."

Ron's ears began turning red in either anger or embarrassment at the reminder of the night down by Hagrid's when he'd laughed at Harry.

"Oh, sorry, Potter," Malfoy continued. "Need a tissue? I should have thought about your fragile emotions, crying every night over your dead mum and such."

That bit had been a part of the article, too.

Hermione closed her eyes, unwilling to watch, and opened them again, needing to.

Ron had his wand out, pointed at Malfoy. Malfoy drew his just as quickly and levelled it at Ron. Most of the other students nearby began edging away down the corridor.

"Ron…" Hermione tried, warningly.

"You leave him out of it, Malfoy." Ron said hotly. "Harry's worth twice of you."

Malfoy was quick as ever with his retort. "What's that make you, Weasley? Practically worthless?"

Ron's face was a deep red now, almost purple, and his wand arm was shaking.

Ron and Malfoy locked eyes for a split second, then both acted simultaneously.

"Entomorphis!" Ron shouted, while Malfoy yelled "Densaugeo!"

Hermione leapt forward trying to grab Ron's arm and deflect his spell towards the ceiling at the same time that Ron ducked trying to avoid Malfoy's curse. The result was that Ron's jinx hit Crabbe full in the face, and Hermione was hit by Malfoy's hex soaring over Ron's head.

Crabbe's head sprouted feelers, and he fell to his hands and knees moaning wordlessly. Hermione felt as if her mouth were on fire. She reached up a hand and realised her two front teeth were growing steadily towards her lower lip. She whimpered in panic as Harry and Ron surrounded her, trying to see if they could help. She tried to cover her teeth — now down to her chin — with her hands.

"And what, exactly, is going on here?" came Professor Snape's low voice.

Pansy jumped in. "Weasley attacked Draco, sir, and hit Crabbe by mistake. And he was insulting me before that. Draco was only defending me."

Snape turned his cold eyes on Malfoy, as if expecting him to corroborate the story. Malfoy didn't look back at Snape, his eyes locked on Hermione instead.

Ron and Harry both started shouting at the same time.

"Malfoy tried to hex me—"

"—Hermione got hit, too!"

Harry and Ron began trying to persuade Hermione to show her teeth to Snape. She continued trying to cover them with her hands, but they were almost down to her collar now, and she knew Snape could see them anyway. She also knew that it didn't make a difference.

"Hospital Wing, Crabbe," Snape said smoothly. "Everyone else, get ready for class. Weasley, stay here. We're going to discuss your detention."

Hermione felt tears well in her eyes and tore off towards the Hospital Wing. As she passed, she heard Pansy remark that this proved that Skeeter had been comparing Hermione to a chipmunk, and Pansy and her gang dissolved into fits of giggles again.

Hermione continued to run as hard as she could, tears blurring her vision.

Thankfully, most other students were already in their classes for the afternoon and the corridors remained empty. By the time she got to the Hospital Wing, Hermione's teeth had grown almost to her waist.

Upon seeing her teeth, Madam Pomfrey immediately swooped in to cast a counter-curse to stop them growing any further. She inquired about what happened and Hermione tried to explain, her speech heavily impeded by her enormous front teeth. Madam Pomfrey gave her a sympathetic look and steered her towards a bed, all the while muttering under her breath about students hexing each other.

Hermione laid back and tried to calm herself. Madam Pomfrey bustled about, concocting a mixture of modified Shrinking Solution that Hermione would need to drink before her teeth could be returned to their normal size.

When the potion was ready, Hermione sat up, allowing Madam Pomfrey to carefully tip it into the side of her mouth. It was foul-tasting, but she wasn't going to complain if it cured her. Madam Pomfrey then held up a mirror and told Hermione to signal when her teeth were at their appropriate size.

A mischievous thought formed: her front teeth had always been rather large, and she'd once tried to persuade her dentist parents to let her shrink them magically. They wouldn't be pleased to find out she'd finally done it, but it was her decision in the end.

When they'd shrunk to a perfectly average size, she signalled Madam Pomfrey to stop. Afterwards, Hermione sat studying her new smile in the hand mirror, feeling immensely better.

Madam Pomfrey returned with a pair of pyjamas.

"Alright now," she said, lifting Hermione's chin for a brief inspection of her mouth, "I'll be needing to keep you overnight to make sure you don't have any side effects from the potion. It wasn't a conventional mixture, and I'd rather find out sooner than later if you're going to react badly."

At Hermione's alarmed look, she added, "Not to worry, dear. I'm confident that it worked as intended. Just a precaution, you know. I'll leave you to get settled in, but I'll stop by around dinnertime with something from the kitchens."

Reassured, Hermione drew the curtains and changed into the pyjamas. That done, she settled back in bed, thankful she had brought her bag with her when she fled the Potions corridor. At least she wouldn't be bored.

A few minutes later, Crabbe finally crawled into the Hospital Wing on his hands and knees, feelers twitching. Madam Pomfrey came back out of her office to perform a quick counter-spell and sent Crabbe on his way.

Harry and Ron stopped by after dinner. Hermione raised her eyebrows incredulously at the sight of them walking in together. She was delighted to learn that due to the events of the afternoon with Ron standing up for her and Harry, Ron and Harry had reconciled. Ron had ended up apologising for "being a gormless git", as he put it, and Harry had accepted his apology without hesitation. Harry certainly seemed a good deal happier having Ron back on his side.

Snape had been predictably awful, and Ron complained over his upcoming detention where Snape had promised him the pleasure of pickling Murtlap tentacles with his bare hands. Harry bemoaned the loss of twenty House points. Hermione agreed it had been completely unfair for Snape to blatantly ignore Slytherin's part in what happened, but not out of character. Especially if Harry was in any way involved.

As curfew approached, Harry and Ron wished her a good night, then left the Hospital Wing for Gryffindor Tower. Despite her humiliating afternoon, Hermione's heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. She hadn't realised how much Harry and Ron's spat was taking a toll on her until it had resolved.

She was easing into slumber, the haze of a pleasant dream-like state washing over her, when she thought she heard the infirmary door creak. Hermione groggily peeked through slitted eyes, thinking that maybe Madam Pomfrey was coming to check on her. Seeing nothing, she started to fade back into nothingness until she caught a golden reflection in a beam of moonlight from the corner of her eye.

Keeping her eyes just barely open, she watched as Malfoy emerged from the shadows, very obviously trying to sneak silently. He stopped for a second to look down on her slumbering form, an indecipherable expression on his features. He reached into his bag and withdrew a few sheaves of parchment, then cautiously placed them on her bedside table. He turned to leave and Hermione decided to speak.

"What are these?"

Malfoy stiffened immediately, his back to her. Hermione sat up slowly and reached over to take the stack of parchment.

Malfoy answered after a beat. "Just some—" he cleared his throat. "Potions notes."

Hermione pored over the papers wordlessly. Elegant script covered them top to bottom.

The silence stretched awkwardly before Malfoy continued.

"Snape went over the theories for several we'll be making soon, and I… figured you wouldn't want to fall behind."

Hermione drew in a long breath, studying Malfoy's back.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Malfoy whipped around, startling her into dropping the notes onto her lap.

"Don't thank me," he spat harshly. A sharp breath escaped his lips and he modified his tone. "Don't thank me," he repeated, somewhat less forcibly, but no less firmly.

Hermione just stared. She didn't know if it was the almost ethereal setting of the infirmary, with moonlight streaming in through the tall windows to wash out the scene, or some kind of magic itself, but the next words out of Malfoy's mouth were the last she'd ever expected to hear from him.

"I'm sorry."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "You're… what?"

"Sorry! I said I'm sorry, Granger. Don't make me repeat myself."

"You're… did you…" Hermione sputtered faintly, unable to form a coherent thought. She vigorously rubbed at her eyes and opened them to make sure it was still Malfoy standing in front of her bed. It was, and he was wearing a distinctly annoyed expression.

"I shouldn't have… I didn't mean to hit you with that curse," Malfoy said. He then seemed unable to contain himself. "Potter and Weasley together always trying to rile me up, you know, and I wasn't even involved in the first place! I could have hexed Pansy for dragging me into that. Literally dragging me! Still, when Weasley opens his big mouth you can't ask me to… what?" he demanded, for Hermione had let out a giggle in spite of herself. She pushed a fist against her lips, trying to stifle her laughter.

When she'd mastered herself, Hermione spoke. "It's just that I hardly ever see you like this. So… off balance," she added as Malfoy's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

She smoothed the sheet at her sides as she thought. "Perhaps that's not the right word. Unguarded, maybe. Still, you're always so put together. Always have the perfect thing to say. Well, except for that time I slapped you across the face." Hermione dissolved into another fit of giggles, and Malfoy's expression turned sour.

He watched her covering her mouth with a hand through narrowed eyes. Then, as if in slow motion, his stance loosened and his expression cleared. His eyes filled with a gentle mirth, shining in the soft light of the infirmary, and one corner of his mouth turned up, an almost-smirk bordering closer to a smile.

"Always bringing that up, aren't you?" he asked, something frighteningly close to fondness in his expression. "You can hardly expect me to know what to say after that — especially coming from you. Who knew you had the guts, Granger. Or the arm." He rubbed his cheek with his fingers, likely remembering the ghost of her strike.

Hermione snorted softly, watching him in turn. "Well, I still won't say I'm sorry for that, it was—"

Malfoy cut her off with a raised hand. "I know. No need."

They stared at each other a few moments more before Hermione dropped her eyes to the notes in her lap. The space grew somewhat awkward again without their laughter as a buffer.

"Well, um… I do appreciate the notes." Hermione said quietly, looking back up at Malfoy. He ran a hand through his hair. "And I know you weren't trying to hex me, so, apology accepted and no hard feelings. Apart from the usual," she added, smiling to show him that the last bit was in jest. She refrained from adding that an apology to Ron and Harry might be more appropriate. The chances of that were slim to none.

Malfoy smiled faintly at her attempt to joke, then shifted his bag strap on his shoulder and glanced once at the door. It would be close to curfew now and he wouldn't want to be caught in the corridors after hours.

"Well… goodnight, Granger." He began to walk towards the door.

"Goodnight, Malfoy. See you in class." Hermione said.

Malfoy stopped to look around as she spoke. His hesitated, lips parted as if to say something more, then seemed to think better of whatever it was. Closing his mouth, he gave her a brief nod and left the Hospital Wing.

Hermione laid back in the bed, staring up at the buttressed ceiling. She couldn't believe that she'd just had an entirely civil conversation with Malfoy. She'd even go so far as to say friendly. And he had apologised. To her. That in and of itself showed that he was already changing from the boy she had known only six months ago.

Hermione didn't feel as though she could even claim credit. Her goal to get to know him hadn't progressed much — so far it only consisted of a few random encounters and conversations. Maybe it was enough to get Malfoy thinking. Maybe her strange behaviour towards him this year had caused him to re-evaluate some things.

She almost laughed out loud again. That was the third time she had thanked Malfoy in the span of a few months. His intervention at the World Cup, the quill she was certain had come from him, and now the Potions notes (even if the last came after he had accidentally hexed her into a beaver). Things were certainly changing, and Hermione hoped for the better.