Anchor and Rose | Dramione

Fifteen.

Hermione dreamt of Blaise Zabini that night.

It was nothing spectacular. All she could recall was sitting at Slunghorn's dinner table staring over at him while he ate his dessert. He smiled at her and then looked away and continued talking to Hestia Carrow.

She woke up with a headache.

The first thing she thought when she opened her eyes was that Blaise Zabini did not look like a murderer.

Especially not one that would kill his Best-Friends mother.

Hermione had to remind herself that Draco had never looked like a murderer either, not until he had attempted to kill Dumbledore on the Astronomy tower just last year.

Murderers could be anyone-They could look like anyone.

Murderers could take the form of something gorgeous and something pure but still be riddled with deep-rooted evil and something unbinding.

Her mind wandered to Pansy.

She thought about Pansy's clear skin and her green eyes. She thought about Pansy's petite body that was drowned by the black cloak worn by the evilest of evils. Hermione felt her stomach twist at the image of confusion in her eyes when she looked down at her and Draco shivering in the snow.

Pansy did not look like a Murderer. While she seemed absolutely riddled with Dark Magic, evil and hatred, deep down, her face was placid with beauty and immaculately-She did not look like a Murderer. Something told Hermione that she was, though. In some way or another. She was probably a Murderer, she had probably killed or broken bones or cursed innocent people to have risen so far in Voldemort's ranks.

Most people in the Dark Army had either killed or attempted to kill. That was how it worked.

Hermione had questioned Pansy the entire night before she fell asleep. Why she had stumbled away from them with chattering teeth and did not reveal them to Theo or the others with Jubilation. It felt suspicious.

As it was Hermione, she had thought of countless different scenarios. She tried to dissect the look she saw in Pansy's eyes-it wasn't fear and it wasn't anger. It wasn't the type of look found inside the eye of a Murderer. It was something like sadness, maybe jealousy or pity.

She wondered what the outcome would have been if it had been Theo who had discovered them behind the hedge. She recalled Theo being at Hogwarts at the beginning of Winter term, for at least one week. She did not see him often, like her, he hid in the shadows and kept his head down.

He had not attended any of the classes Hermione had scheduled with him.

Maybe he had only shown up to Hogwarts to make sure Draco was not there.

Hermione bit her tongue and stood from the sofa.

She and Draco had not spoken on the matter since Hermione had apparated them back to Southwark the day before.

She was not sure of the time, she was not even sure of the date. After the failed attempts with her old wand, she had successfully conjured up a calendar with her new one, but she rarely glanced at it.

Seeing the days go by only made her more frightened of what was to come.

Hermione walked to the kitchen. There was no breakfast prepared today. She bit her lip and told herself it was strange to have expected it. She should not be comfortable with the routine of living with Draco Malfoy.

While thinking, she felt the ground rumbling beneath her. Her mind reminded her that Draco had mentioned he was visiting his mysterious 'friend' today and he must have been returning from his excursion.