After all of the nights Hermione had slept without nightmares, it didn’t come as a shock to her when she woke up soaked in her own cold sweat. She was trembling, barely able to keep still. The only visible light in her room was outside of her window, supplied by the moon. It was set against a black sky with no stars. Hermione sat up and pulled her knees into her arms.
She threw her blankets off, feeling extremely hot. The moment after they hit the floor, she was cold once more. She sighed shakily and fell back onto her pillow.
It was that damn pureblood’s fault. He’d been the cause of it. When things were going good at work with him, her dreams had only been good ones. It was now apparent that he altered her life in a more significant way than she thought before. She slapped herself on her head with the palm of her hand.
“Not worth it.” She repeated over and over in her mind.
But if he really wasn’t worth it, then why could she not stop thinking about him? She shuddered once more. Her eyelids began to droop, and she heard the soft sound of her curtains scraping against her window. She laid down and closed her eyes. Sleep as what she was going to need if she was to confront Draco the next morning.
~
Hermione’s day had started off rough. She wasn’t thinking the right way, and all of her simple spells that were part of her daily routine had gone wrong. She’d broken two tea mugs, and was working on her third. She blamed it on the nightmares, but she knew that it was because she was nervous. It was eleven o’clock, and she had to meet Malfoy at twelve.
She thought that he was going to tell her to never talk to him again, and to just stay out of his life because she was a filthy mudblood. He’d cast her away and not think twice about it, realizing he could get better than the ‘Goody Gryffindor’. She felt herself tear up at that partuclar thought. She shook her head and stopped it in it’s tracks, not wanting to waste
tears over it. It was silly. He wasn’t worth her time.
“Yes, he is… I’m just not worth HIS time.” She whispered miserably to herself.
She decided to use some of the hair potion in an attempt to look pretty. Her hair straightened out immediately after she’d applied it. She looked at herself in her bathroom mirror and wondered if it was even worth the effort. She sighed, deciding to put make up on, as well.
The mascara she’d gotten was still full, and it was no use to just let such a thing go to waste. Her eyelashes were coated in it as she sweeped the mascara wand cleverly through them.
They had gotten darker, drawing more attention to her big, amber eyes. She remembered some eyeliner she had in the drawer, but she was worried she’d poke herself in the eye with it. It was best left alone.
Her outfit consisted of simple jeans and a white, short-sleeved blouse. She truly looked stunning, even dressed as simply as she was.
“It’s his loss.” She tried to sound defiant, not succeeding even when she was talking to herself.
~
At 11:45, she felt it was time to disapparate. She swallowed all of her nervous feelings and stepped outside, wishing she’d used the eyeliner after all.
“Come on, pull yourself together, Granger.” She thought.
She disapparated, still not used to the dizzying effect it had on her. Or was it just because she was extra nervous? The Leaky Cauldron was in sight not two seconds after she’d left.
She wrung her hands together, stepping forward as slowly as she could. The door opened before she got there, and Hermione was standing face – to – face with a familiar looking
