Their lessons continued for the next two months. Malfoy acted very unMalfoy-like and did everything he was told to. Hermione knew something would have to go wrong. Nothing stayed perfect for long.
It was only when there was snow on the ground and you could sense Christmas coming did Malfoy not come to his lesson on time. He sidled in fifteen minutes after the lesson was supposed to begin and said nothing. His face was unreadable. Hermione waited for an explanation that she knew wouldn’t come. So she asked.
“Where were you?” Her voice was quiet, but defiant. She had learned that if you showed Malfoy your fear, he would look down upon you. It was the Malfoy way to be strong and never show weakness. It was how they were bred.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. There was no strength in his voice. He wasn’t even trying. Hermione stared at him for a full minute before he decided to expand.
“I was writing a letter to my mother and I lost track of time.” This was a downright lie and they both knew it. Hermione smiled but Malfoy didn’t look up. He didn’t even try to defend his lie.
“Draco?” she said tentatively. He looked up slightly, but all Hermione could see in his stormy eyes was confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“I know you may think we’re friends now, with all these lessons, but we’re not that kind of friends. You can’t help me at all. Even if I wanted you to. Even if I told what was happening.”
“Fine,” she said, picking up her bag and standing up. “You don’t have to tell me.” As she walked away she turned around, met his eyes and said, “I could try and help but only if you tell me what I can’t help with.”
With that, she walked away, feeling less defiant than she had sounded. Throughout the whole evening of studying, she couldn’t concentrate on anything. The image of Draco’s eyes kept invading her mind. Draco’s eyes. That look of confusion and doubt grabbed at her insides every time she thought about it.
Wait; did she just call him Draco? In her head? Since about the first month of their lessons, Hermione had started to call Malfoy by his first name. Only in their lessons, but they didn’t talk to each other much in regular school, so there was nothing wrong with that. But whenever she thought about him, which wasn’t much, she always used his surname. It was a force of habit and she didn’t expect it to change. But here she was, subconsciously calling Malfoy, Draco. She mentally kicked herself.
‘He’s not was you need right now. Just keep on thinking of him as Malfoy. Cruel Malfoy.’she told herself.
That night Hermione lay in bed, thinking about the day. It was very confusing to her. And those eyes just wouldn’t get away from her. Those perfect, perfect eyes.
*************
Meanwhile in the Slytherin dormitories
Draco Malfoy was also lying in his bed, green curtains closed around him, thinking about eyes. But the eyes in his mind were brown and filled with hope and laughter. The eyes he was thinking of belonged to Hermione Granger.
From they first day of Hogwarts, Draco had thought Hermione was a know-it-all. But as much he had said about Muggleborns and Mudbloods, he had never meant those insults to Hermione. The only reason he didn’t like Hermione was because she was too smart for her own good. And most people got annoyed with that anyways, even her friends. So he wasn’t really at fault. But he had acted the way he did as per his father’s bringing up. That was the only way he was ever taught, so it was the way he acted.
But now, with the lessons, he couldn’t keep up with his attitude. He was finally getting to know the Hermione behind the genius girl who always had the answers.
“And now,” he whispered to the ceiling, “I understand why Weasley is still friends with you.”
*************
At the same time in the Hog’s Head…
Two hooded men with black cloaks sit in the corner of the hardly occupied pub, whispering quietly. With every passing word, their voices get softer and softer as though they are losing hope.
“The Dark Lord thinks she will be too much help for the boy. She is a very smart girl. But she is a Gryffindor. And they can be easily deceived,” the first man said, leaning closer to other.
“I don’t know if he would be up to the job. I haven’t taught him enough. He won’t be able to conceal a murder from Dumbledore.” The second man’s voice quavered.
“Well, he will just have to try, won’t he?” the first man said, his teeth clenching.
“But if he is caught, we have just lost our spy in that school! Surely you could wait a little? At least until after the winter break? I could teach him then! He is a very quick learner.”
“Fine. I don’t care how he does it, she just has to be dead before the end of the school year!” And with that the first man left, his cloak whipping the other small man in the head. Putting his head in his hands, the second man ordered a very large bottle of Firewhiskey.
*************
Hermione awoke the next morning exhausted. Frightening images in her mind had kept her up the entire night. Pictures of people being tortured into madness filled her mind. But, none of the people had faces. They just had piercingly grey eyes.
Hermione meandered into the common room to find Ron sitting on the couch, trying to finish his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework.
“Hey Hermione, what’s the spell for Vanishing things?” Ron said without looking up.
“And a good morning to you too, Ronald!” Hermione said sarcastically.
“Come on, Hermione. Do you want me to fail?”
“Alright, I’ll help you. But you have to pay attention in class today, okay?”
“Sure, whatever you say,” said Ron, distractedly.
As she helped Ron with his homework, Hermione caught Ron staring at her. ‘I need to get some more girlfriends,’ Hermione thought to herself when she went to get some breakfast.
*************
A/N: In case you haven’t noticed yet, I really like eyes. They’re like a fetish for me. I promise the next chapter will be less filled with eyes.