Breakfast the next day was a strange affair. Hermione was barely paying attention to her surroundings. It wasn’t until Harry pointed out that she had poured scrambled eggs into his drink that she snapped to attention.
“Hermione, is there anything wrong?” he asked as he peered into her face.
“Sure. I was just thinking about…homework,” she replied, pasting a fake smile on her face. Ron snorted in his plate.
“Typical,” she heard him mutter. Hermione sighed sharply. It was no use. Draco hadn’t even come into the Great Hall, and she didn’t want to sit around and be made fun of by Ron. She gathered up her books.
“I forgot something in my room. I’ll see you two at Herbology.”
“Okay,” said Harry, still looking worried. Ron barely looked up from his food as she left the table.
Once Hermione left the Great Hall, she stopped, not knowing where to go. She didn’t need to go to the dormitories; it was too early to go to class. So she headed for her haven from the world: the Library.
The Library was her favorite place to go in Hogwarts, apart from her room. Rows and rows of dusty old books filled with knowledge she could learn lined the room. It was lit by natural sunlight coming through the huge glass windows during the day, and at night it was cozy with the warm glow of flickering torches. The tables were usually full with students, but Hermione had learned from her many hours the best times to go and the best places to study. Even the Restricted Section, with its eerie aura and black hole of coldness had a certain mysterious tinge to it that made Hermione like it.
When she finally reached the Library, she headed straight for her favorite study spot: a small couch underneath one of the huge windows. It was isolated from the main area and was cozy. She was a couple yards away when she stopped. He was sitting. In her spot.
He hadn’t noticed her entrance or her abrupt stop. He was engrossed in whatever book he was reading (Probably some Dark Arts book, she thought to herself). His silvery hair had fallen astray and covered one side of his face like a curtain. His eyes moved quickly across the pages, and at times he mouthed a few words to himself.
Hermione stood there, gripped by the sight of him. The early morning sunlight played across his head, causing his already shiny hair to become almost blinding. It reminded her of the old Greek mythology books she would read as a young child, a young god too perfect to be mistaken for a mortal.
As she gazed upon him, he seemed to come to a chapter end. He stuck his finger in the place, and closed the book as he looked up. His eyes caught hers.
Hermione heard herself take a sharp breath.
Draco stood up. His eyes expressed nothing.
Hermione glided over to him, feeling as if she was in a dream.
He put down the book beside him.
She stared up at him.
His eyes smiled at her.
She felt her stomach drop a few stories as he leaned closer.
The bell rang.
“You should get to class.”
His whisper tickled her ear. He straightened up and strode past, brushing his hand against hers. Hermione stood, looking out the window for a moment. Had that all really happened? What would he have done if the bell hadn’t rung? What would she have done?
Hermione shook herself out of her reverie and prepared to go to class. As she turned around, she caught a glimpse of the book Draco had been so absorbed in:
Why We Should Love Muggles, by Artura Zabulski.
okay, short chapter and a stupid ending. but it will get better. i have a legit reason, though. i sprained my wrist so this was all typed with one hand, and the pain affects my creativity. that's what i'm telling myself, anway. please be kind...
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