Cursed | Draco Malfoy

Thirteen

4 days until new year

"Dean!" Hermione shouted, across the courtyard. After an entire hour of searching for the boy, she found him outside. Small snowflakes fell from the sky, as she sniffled. He was talking with Seamus Finnigan, but when the girl had found him and waved him over, he bid the Irish boy goodbye.

He hadn't looked nervous or guilty when Hermione approached him, and for that she assumed it was a good sign. She prayed, she hoped the boy had not done what she thought.

He walked up, "hey Hermione," the boy let a smile plaster across her face, but only Godric knows if he'll be leaving with the same pearly white smile as-well.

She cleared her throat, not wanting to waste any time — she got straight to the point. She just hoped that if he did not in fact spread any rumours, that he wouldn't get offended that she thought so.

"Hey," she breathed. "I have to talk to you about something," she nervously picked at the skin around her nails.

Dean shrugged, "go ahead,"

"So- you know how I told you about the whole ball, - thing?" She stammered, trying to study his face. Dean nodded, "yeah, what about it?" He inquired.

"Well, Malfoy came up to me this morning, and told me there's been rumours about us—" she swallowed, trying to hide her disgust, "-shagging, and I, just really want to know if you maybe told anyone else about that night?" She asked, slightly murmuring her words and awaiting for the boys reaction.

Hermione was not the kind of girl to jump to conclusions — especially not when it came down to one of her closests friends. She would handle this maturely, as she did not want to bring attention to herself by screaming at the poor boy.

If he had not been him, it had to have been Pansy. But in Hermione's tight mind, there was absolutely no way. Pansy practically treats Malfoy like a Greek god — would she strictly go against him, and go as far to spread rumours about him?

Dean Thomas was not a man of deceiving and planning against his fellow Gryffindor's, especially Hermione. He was a man of chivalry, and the witch knew this.

The bronze boy illuminated against the white cold sky as there was a brief pause in the still air before he continued.

"Why do you think I would spread rumours about you?"

Hermione's heart practically fell as so did her face expressions, "no, I don't think you would — but you are the only person I told about that night. Not that anything even happened-" she started to babble but she quickly stopped herself, the boy's response caught the witch off guard.

She closed her auburn eyes for a moment, "I just need to know if you did it, Dean." She finished.

The boy crossed his arms, looking highly offended and completely defensive. She could see in his body language. I mean, truthfully — if the boy hadn't done it, he wouldn't have been acting off-guard and blatantly ignoring the question to turn it on to her. He was trying to make her feel bad, and Hermione had realized it had been minimal manipulation.

Then, a crease formed between her eyebrows. "Answer the question, Dean." She bellowed.

"Okay," he exhaled, eyes switching beyond her for a moment before he continued, "I may have told a few people, but that's only because I was worried about you." He finally answered, and the answer only bestowed anger into her expressions. How could he?

"Dean!" Hermione exclaimed, "are you bloody serious? I told you nothing happened and I specifically told you not to tell anyone, why would you do that?" She spoke heatedly.