Fascination|𝐴 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 (𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚛 3, 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔 1)

Chapter Six | Alone

Alone, originally by Heart, cover by Celine Dion

   Hermione lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to get any sleep. She felt awful about what had happened. Draco hadn't spoken to her since the incident, and Hermione didn't dare approach him. She feared he would become more distant. If she pressed him, it would only scare him further away. So as the weeks went by, they went back to ignoring each other as they had before. Hermione didn't like the situation but she didn't have much choice. Malfoy would never admit he was wrong. He was as proud as he was arrogant and would never give in. And she couldn't force him to. (No matter how much she wished she could.)

   In the nights since, Hermione had gotten little to no sleep. She was beginning to feel like an insomniac. Counting sheep did not work in the least, and sleeping tonic did nothing to help her nerves. She would have gone to Madam Pomphry but she was keen on the idea of using magic to put her to sleep. No, she'd much rather fall asleep on her own. The fact that she felt homesick at times didn't help either. Hermione missed her mother terribly most nights. She sometimes wondered if Malfoy felt the same. If he missed his mother or even had a loving mother to miss. She knew his father was terrible but perhaps he only acted that way to others. Especially muggleborns. But it made her sad to think that Malfoy did not have a loving family.

   With every passing day, Hermione spent all her spare time trying to find a way to talk to him. He would never give in unless she was discreet and they were alone. And even then, his pride got in the way of him opening up to her. He would never admit that she had been right. Although he would never admit to feeling alone either. But she knew he didn't want to act the way his father expected of him. She really did wish he had accepted her offer of friendship rather than push her away.

Hermione flinched at the memory. He had called her a mudblood again. But thinking back to that night, remembering his expression, Hermione knew that he had been scared. She could see it in his eyes. He was scared of letting her in. She sighed. Hermione knew he hadn't meant the awful things he'd said, but it still hurt. The spite in his voice and anger in his eyes. Yet, it was not directed at her. He was mad at himself... upset with himself. She just didn't know why. But she saw the hurt in his eyes as he screamed those things at her. Hermione shook her head.

No use in dwelling on it, it was only upsetting her. She had all year after all. She'd get him to warm up to her... eventually. It was quite odd actually. She found herself longing to talk to him, wanting his company. As of late, she had felt quite lonely to be honest. During her time in the library, she would catch herself watching the door and hoping he would seek her out. Hermione shook her head furiously. What was wrong with her? How could she want to spend time with Draco Malfoy? He was the reason she was insecure and felt inferior. The reason she spent most of last semester in tears over that... that... that name.

But when she thought back to their last encounter, something struck her. What she had told him was true. It was just a word, and that was all it would ever be. Draco had never meant it when he called her a mudblood. As much as it had hurt her when he said it, he had never spoken to her in anger. Then she came to a realization. He was more than just Draco Malfoy, the foul Slytherin ferret they had all believed him to be. There was so much more to him than he let anyone else see. Deep down that was not who he was. Hermione was drawn to him. She couldn't explain it, but she was.

   Hermione tossed in her bed and struggled against her restlessness. She had to stop thinking about him, she loathed him, remember? She closed her eyes but sleep would not come. Finally giving up, she stood and pulled on her satin robe, it wasn't quite cold enough for her fleece robe yet. She looked around the room to her roommate's beds. They were all sound asleep. Lavender Brown snored, snorting like a pig.