Hermione never got a chance to talk to Harry after the Cornish pixie incident. Getting rid of them had been torture. They’d destroyed the entire sitting room, causing damage that would take hours to repair by wand alone. Hermione had done most of the clearing, because no one else knew the curses necessary to do so. Mrs. Weasley was nearly in tears by the end of it all. Hermione’s straight hair had gathered into a tangled rat’s nest on the top of her head. She sighed and reminded herself to make the hair potions when she got home.
Ginny was sulking, and Hermione had a pretty good idea of why. She wasn’t sure if talking to her and offering advice would just make it worse. She was stewing over what Harry said about Ginny not being the “one”. Hermione’s concern over other people’s relationships, especially Harry’s and Ginny’s, was a tad unjustified. She felt like she needed to act as the adhesive, and she wasn’t sure why. She told herself on many occasions to focus on her own
life, but she wanted everyone else to be happy or she wasn’t happy.
“’Mione?” Ron asked.
“Yes, Ronald?” Hermione asked, a bit more harshly than necessary.
She despised being interrupted from her thoughts. Ron looked as if he wished he’d never
said anything, red coloring on his ears and cheeks.
“Where were you today at lunch?”
“It’s none of your business.” She snapped.
Ron’s face got even redder, if that was physically possible.
“I was just asking. You DID tell Harry you’d be here.” He mumbled bitterly.
“When was that ever YOUR concern?”
“It was just a question, Hermione.”
Hermione didn’t know why she felt the need to be so secretive about it. She knew it’d get under Ron’s skin if he knew it was Malfoy. It would get under his skin if it was ANY guy, to be quite honest.
“I was at lunch with a friend, if you must know.”
Ron got a dumb look on his face. He assumed that Harry and him were the only friends
Hermione had, which was usually the case, but it offended Hermione a bit.
“I DO have other friends, you know!”
“Who was it?” Ron pressed.
“It was a friend, and that’s all you’re getting out of me.” She walked away from him, wanting nothing more than to avoid his questions. ”
She thanked Mrs. Weasley for having her over after assuring her that the Cornish pixies were no problem, and it was her pleasure to help get rid of them. It was nine o’ clock when she disapparated, but she felt as if it was nearly three in the morning. It had been a long day, after all. She decided to ask Ginny how she was when she went over to the burrow for dinner the next evening.
Before she dressed for bed, she reminisced about her day with Malfoy. She hated that she’d enjoyed it so much, but he had as much fun as she did. It surprised her that he even asked. She felt herself picturing his stormy grey eyes, the epitome of his emotional conveyances.
She couldn’t help but picture the way his lips moved when he said her last name. Even though he was having trouble adjusting to calling her “Hermione”, it was a step up from “mudblood”. She didn’t feel as worthless as before when she was around him. She couldn’t force herself to hate him anymore, even though he did ignite a bit of a bite in her when he said the wrong thing.
She laid down in her bed, still running through her day. She felt exhausted, but not tired. She couldn’t bring herself to fall asleep after the day she had. She wanted to remember it more while it was fresh, not wanting it to fade away before she could revel in it. She felt herself smiling when she thought about it, which scared her a little more than it should have. With the last memory of Malfoy hugging her, she smiled and drifted into sleep.
Hermione’s morning routine was the same as always. She got up, made her breakfast, and got ready for work. It was a bit different that day; usually Hermione did this without much enthusiasm. That morning, she was glowing, still happy from the memories of her day with Malfoy. She wanted to scold herself for still thinking about the wretched ferret, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She hummed tunelessly as she picked out a nice black dress that hugged her curves, wanting to look nice that morning. She decided to leave her hair in its usual curls; she never got around to making the hair potions.
Though it was a cold and wet day, Hermione felt a rush as she walked out of her flat to disapparate. She was closing her door when she felt like she was being watched. A gust of wind rushed and tugged at the edges of her dress, still a little apprehensive.
“You’re just being paranoid…” She said aloud.
“Going a bit mad, Granger?” A voice drawled.
“No, no - ” she looked up, embarrassed that she’d answered the voice.
Malfoy stood in front of her wearing his Slytherin smirk.
“Draco! What are you doing here?” she said, a little shaky from him scaring her a bit.
“Isn’t it obvious? I decided to escort you to work today.”
Hermione tried to suppress a smile, but it didn’t work. Malfoy attempted to sneer.
“Merlin, Granger, you don’t have to act so bloody happy.”
She ignored him.
“Let’s go, I think that Kendrina is going to have a lot for us to do today.”
He nodded, grasped her arm, and they were off.
