Harry’s sparkled intensely, like polished emeralds. The look in them was beginning to frighten Hermione. She went back in her mind she was talking to Draco about their relationship, and he brought Harry up.
-“You honestly think that Weasel is the ONLY one that has a thing for you? Potter practically
worships the ground you walk on, Granger.”
“Harry has Ginny, Draco. He doesn’t like me in that way.”
“Being in a relationship hasn’t a thing to do with it, Granger.”
“You’re mad, Draco.”
“We’ll see.” –
She felt a sick, sinking sensation in her stomach. Harry was simply looking at her, but his expression conveyed more than words could explain.
“Hermione, you know I really care about you.”
“Oh, Merlin. Malfoy was right.” She thought miserably.
“Yes, Harry, we’re best friends.” She swallowed the strange feeling in her throat.
Harry sighed.
“Yeah, we’re best friends. I just needed to ask you something.” He stated in a strained voice.
“Go ahead.”
He took a breath.
“Hermione, I know that you and Malfoy have been stuck together on a case together, and I can see you’re becoming friends. I can see how he looks at you sometimes. Hermione, I think he’s going to wind up hurting you somehow. You can’t trust him. You’re defending him an awful lot lately, and it’s concerning. I don’t want you to be sucked up by an charm that snake may have.” He said the last sentence with rage.
Hermione was somewhat relieved. At least it hadn’t been a confession of love, even though it seemed like it was going to be. Harry looked like he hadn’t said all he had wanted, though.
The relief melted away when she realized that Harry DID see how Hermione and Malfoy were acting, lately.
“Why would you think he would want ME, Harry? I’m a mudblood, remember?” She shuddered as she said the cursed word.
He looked confused, battling between the two theories.
“I’m not stupid, Hermione, I see!”
“Harry, you’re being ridiculous. This is the pureblood prat FERRET that we’re talking about!”
He didn’t look quite convinced. Hermione groaned.
“Harry, you don’t have to worry about that. Even if those WERE his intentions, then it wouldn’t be your business.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Harry’s face grew contorted with anger and hurt.
“He was a DEATH EATER! You know how he treats girls? Do you know how many times he’s called you a mudblood?!”
“HE ISN’T LIKE THAT, ANYMORE! And it wouldn’t MATTER, because those AREN’T his intentions! He doesn’t even like me, I’m A MUDBLOOD!” Hermione shouted.
It seemed useless at this point to be outside. The whole house could probably hear their conversation. Harry realized this, then toned it down. The look on Hermione’s face seemed to be honest, so he backed up.
“You’re right, I’m being too rash.” He whispered.
“It definitely wouldn’t be the FIRST time.” She said, half-teasing, half-annoyed.
