He watched her go past again, and again. A flicker of brown hair whisked past as soon as he was close enough to run his fingers through it.
Potions class, duller than ever, though sharpened occasionally with funny remarks from Weasley, nearly making Draco laugh. He dare not of course, the years of fighting had made any friendship between them a hilarious idea. Hermione went past again to get more ingredients for the antidote they were making. It was called the Patronificus Potion; a dementor defense used by those of Squibbish background, or those who are too miserable to think happy thoughts. Instant Patronus. Life was getting way too easy. Pretty soon, they would have a potion for everything, such as Instant Quill, or even more random, Instant Candy. Draco sniggered quietly. Just spill some on the floor and boom! There you go! Instant Hermione? Draco nearly kicked himself. You can’t replace Hermione with a potion! He scolded himself.
“Draco.” Crabbe’s voice split his thoughts in two.
“What.” Draco said monotonously.
“Were you even listening?” Crabbe asked, his voice sounding hurt.
Draco sighed. This happened everyday, every time.
“No Crabbe, no. I wasn’t listening when you said you wanted to pound Weasley’s family into a pulp.” Draco said, trying his hardest to sound interested.
This was probably Crabbe’s favorite phrase, he muttered it every second. Draco turned to Crabbe and forced a smile. Crabbe smiled contently in return and went back to muttering to Goyle, who was chewing on his quill. Draco turned just in time to catch Ron’s eye.
“You mother’s fat, Weasley.” Draco yelled across the room.
“Mr. Malfoy, lower your voice.” Snape said calmly. Draco ignored his words.
Draco smiled in satisfaction as Ron’s face turned a beet red as he tried to ignore the comment. Potter muttered words of wisdom to Ron to calm him down.
“How much money do you have left in your bank account, eh? Maybe half a Knut?” Draco yelled again, increasing his defenses to block out his guilt.
“Mr. Malfoy, once again, I ask you to please lower your voice and work on your potion.” Snape said again, his voice even, showing no signs of anger or annoyance.
“Your father’s in prison, Malfoy. Go fall in a hole.” Ron muttered, his voice loud enough for Draco to hear, but quiet enough so that Snape couldn’t.
Ron’s eyes were glittering in anger as he chopped his ingredients. Draco was not insulted; he had no love for his father, as far he was concerned, but he charged ahead with another remark.
“Why? It’s so dark and dirty, infested with vermin. Much like your own home, much like your family.” Draco said vehemently, leaning forward to challenge Ron even more.
Ron dropped his knife and started forward.
“I’m gonna rip-" Ron was stopped by Hermione, who began to whisper advice to him.
Ron’s face faded back to its normal complexion. He grinned at Draco and clapped a hand on Hermione’s back as she smiled. Professor Snape came upon the scene,
“Mr. Weasley, ten points from Gryffindor for disturbing my class and threatening another student. Miss Granger and Mr. Potter, five points each from Gryffindor for encouraging this event.” He said; his voice filled to the brim with merciless malice.
Draco smiled in satisfaction as Ron, Hermione and Harry threw him an evil look, in response; Draco raised an eyebrow and smiled in victory. Inside, however, Draco felt the oncoming storm of jealousy. Pretending to work, Draco hung his head in defeat; tired from this war of insults. The rest of the class was spent quietly stirring and pouring, cutting and measuring the ingredients needed for the Patronificus Potion.
“Put away your cauldrons, after you fill a vial of your potion and put it on my desk,” Snape said a half an hour later, “I suggest, Mr. Longbottom, that you put an anti hazard charm on your …creation before you hand it in.” Snape said before he went into his office to start the evening’s work.
Draco laughed inwardly. Longbottom, always making his day. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Hermione mutter the anti hazard charm onto Neville’s vial. Neville gave her a smile of gratitude, put his vial on Snape’s desk and left the room. Soon, only Crabbe, Goyle, Draco, Hermione, Harry, and Ron remained.
“Shouldn’t we…?” Crabbe said to Draco, his fat thumb pointing at the other three.
“No, Crabbe, leave them alone.” Draco said, a sharp tone in his voice. Crabbe and Goyle shrugged. Suddenly, a great thump resounded as five of Hermione’s heavy textbooks fell out of the bag and onto the floor.
“No, don’t. I can pick them up, you guys go on and save me a seat at dinner.” Hermione said kindly as Harry and Ron bent to pick them up.
“Are you sure? We don’t want to leave you here with that lot.” Harry said pointedly at Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle.
“No, I’m alright. I can fend for myself.” Hermione said reassuringly.
Harry and Ron shrugged, and left. Draco caught Ron’s eyes looking at Hermione in concern, and then Ron turned to him.
“Malfoy, if you hurt her, I swear I’ll…” Ron began, but Harry pulled Ron out of the classroom, knowing that Hermione could hex Draco without looking.
“Goyle, Crabbe, go and save me a seat at dinner.” Malfoy demanded as he began to put his ingredients back in the small jars that contained them. Crabbe and Goyle left, their heavy footsteps resounding in the hall. Draco felt his heart skip a beat, he was finally alone with his love.
“Oh!” Hermione cried as her bottle of ink smashed on the floor. As Hermione struggled to get her wand out of her robes, Draco pointed his at the mess and said
“Reparo.” Draco stuffed his wand back in his robes.
“I could’ve done it myself.” Hermione said, looking flustered and somewhat embarrassed. Draco smiled; she was almost blushing, his heart skipped another beat.
“Really? From the way your wand was stuck, you could’ve caused more problems than trying to fix a broken bottle.” Draco said smiling truthfully.
“You know? You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me after you insulted Ron like that and let Snape walk all over us. But I guess, that’s like a routine for you, isn’t it? Stepping on the little guys?” Hermione said fiercely.
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Draco said.
“Ron is my friend, my best friend, along with Harry. If you insult them, you insult me.” Hermione said angrily, ceasing putting her books away to talk to Draco.
“So, I can’t be nice without someone criticizing for what I did before?” Draco asked.
Hermione’s hard glare softened a bit and she put the last book back in her bag.
“Thanks for being noble,” Hermione said, mockery and sarcasm drenching her words, “for once.” Draco winced, but no matter, he still tried to be a gentleman.
“Thanks for accepting.” Draco said gratefully and truthfully.
So truthfully, that Hermione actually looked up, shock outlining her features. A moment later, Hermione shook her head, as if to get something out of her face. She began to fumble with her bag’s zipper. Draco slung his bag over one shoulder and stopped to look at Hermione. He smiled. The zipper of her bag was stuck. Draco walked over, put his bag down to take Hermione’s hands off her bag. Hermione stepped back, flustered.
“Take it easy. It’s not going to run away.” Draco whispered and pulled the zipper free, and it closed smoothly. Hermione, her face flushed, looked up at Draco.
“If this is one of your kniving tricks, Draco Malfoy, I won’t have it.” Hermione said fiercely.
“Oh yes, I forgot, I’m the soulless, heartless, son of a Death Eater. I go around tricking people with book bag zippers.” Draco said sarcastically, his eyes reflected sorrow.
Hermione looked in his eyes for a moment.
“I didn’t mean to…” Hermione began.
“Hurt my feelings?” Draco finished suggestively.
“Yes.” Hermione replied.
“I guess someone in my position needs it occasionally.” Draco said suggestively.
“I guess so.” Hermione replied, smiling in agreement, suddenly her smile faded. “Why are you talking to me?” She questioned suspiciously.
“You’re the only one here.” Draco replied, almost too automatically.
“I’m a Gryffindor.” Hermione stated.
“And I’m a Slytherin, nice to meet you.” Draco said comically.
“Malfoy. You’ve been insulting me ever since day one. Why are you talking to me? Why did you help me?” Hermione asked, anger sprinkled over her words, making Draco cringe.
“Maybe I’m sorry.” Draco replied, sadly.
Hermione’s eyes grew wide for a moment, but then she shook her head and slung her bag over her shoulder, pushing brown ringlets out of the way.
“You’re not sorry. You can’t call a person a Mudblood and say a stupid, overestimated apology. You can’t say a four letter word and be done with it.” Hermione said, she looked as if she wanted to leave, but she stayed rooted to the spot.
“Five.” Draco muttered.
“What?” Hermione asked in annoyance.
“Five, sorry is a five letter word. Five.” Draco said, solemnly, holding up his hand to show her. Hermione looked at him with a mixture of embarrassment, and anger.
“I was just trying to help you.” Draco said quietly, as apologetically as he could.
“Well don’t!” Hermione said, and turned her heel and made to storm out of the room.
“How do you know I’m not sorry for what I’ve done?” Draco called after her, his eyes glittering with the sorrow he bore. Hermione stopped and turned around.
“Because,” Hermione took a deep breath, as if to ready herself for what she was about to say. Then, she cocked her head, “Because, you’re Draco Malfoy.” Mockery covered her words and with that, Hermione disappeared around the corner. The words were left ringing in the air, long after she had gone.
“That’s just the problem.” Draco thought.