As it always seemed to do so when Draco was involved, Hermione found that time seemed to have quite suddenly stopped, as she stood wrapped up in him. Her head rested against his chest and she found that a distant part of her mind was aimlessly counting his heartbeats. His chest rose and fell as he breathed but Hermione could have sworn that they existed together like this only in a single second of time. Draco's hand was entwined in her hair. She became aware of him gently tugging curl after curl as his fingers tried bury themselves deeper in the coiled mass that shrouded her head. He pulled her closer to him as if trying to take in as much of her as possible, as if he didn't intend on letting her go. Hermione was suddenly afraid, illogically afraid, uncontrollably afraid. She struggled out of Draco's arms and sprinted past him. He reached out to her but he had been taken by surprise and he didn't react in time. She was already out the door and running towards the steps.
"Hermione" he called, but she didn't stop.
She didn't stop until reached the great hall. Lunch was about to be served. Her lungs ached and her feet were sore, Hermione doubted that she had ever run so much in her life. Down stairs, up stairs, through long corridors, dodging happily oblivious students.
Hermione walked into the hall and headed towards the Gryffindor table. Ron and Harry were already there. She looked at the empty place that rested by them longingly before turning to sit by herself at the end of the table. Hermione tried not to notice as Seamus settled himself in what used to be her seat. And not for the last time, Hermione found herself painfully replaying it all.
That had been a wretched day. As if Draco's cruel words hadn't been enough, Ron's accusing face, and Harry's look of betrayal had been the icing on the cake. There had been disbelief of course. Her friends had both decided that there was no possible way that what Malfoy had insinuated could be true. They followed her back to the common room. The confrontation there had been remarkably unpleasant. She couldn't bring herself to lie to them. They were more important to her than just about anything else in the entire world. Hermione might omit things and gloss over small details, but she would never lie. Not that Harry and Ron had appreciated her honesty. In their minds she had committed a cardinal sin. And now she was doing penance, waiting for their forgiveness.
Hermione dejectedly buttered a piece of bread and glared crossly down at her plate. She knew what they were waiting for, Harry and Ron, they wanted her to tell them that she hated him. That Draco was nothing to her and that Ron was right, she must have been out of her mind. But Hermione wouldn't. She wouldn't tell them that she hated Draco simply because she didn't. In fact, Hermione was beginning to think that she might be feeling the opposite. Not to say that she loved Draco, he was too much of a prat for that. But Hermione was beginning to accept the fact that she did care for him, even when he was being his usual, hateful self. And that is what scared her more than anything else.
"Hermione?"
The voice cut through her reverie and Hermione looked up. Harry was sitting down next to her and Ron had just settled himself across the table from her. Her immediate response was a rush of relief and a glowing sense of delight. But it only took one hard look at Ron's face for all of his cruel words to erase any smile that might have been struggling onto her face. Hermione frowned darkly.
"Oh hullo Ron, thought of something even nastier to call me? Want to give it a try? See if you can make me cry?" She snapped at Ron remembering the colorful language that he used the other day concerning her.
"Hermione," Harry interceded, "We're just worried about you. You know that. Ron and I just have a hard time understanding how you could ignore all the things that he's done. I mean he's always been horrible to all of us."
