Restricted

8

Turning her face in different angles of the bathroom mirror, she analysed each feature. Apart from her dark circles that lingered due to the lack of sleep, nothing was out of the ordinary. So why had Malfoy not taken his eyes off her for the entire first period?

Or perhaps he'd decided on her offer? Although she doubted he'd let her help; however nice it may be for her to adjust irritating thoughts away from Horcrux's and defeating Voldemort, and instead work on something a little lighter. (Even if it was still meddling in the restricted section and reading about dark magic.)

Especially now she didn't have Harry and Ron constantly trying to speed things up — they couldn't control her now.

They both spent every night in the library anyway so as strange as it was, to her it made perfect sense. It wouldn't get heated like last time and she'd make sure to stay well out of his way.
Their blood status' made it fairly easy for that to occur anyway. He was insufferably annoying and hated her so it definitely wouldn't be difficult.

Flattening her Gryffindor robes and staring at her faded scars for a few seconds, she quickly charmed her hair into something a little neater since she'd been in a rush this morning.
Then she slouched out, unenthusiastic about double transfigurations. Which seemed ridiculously stupid considering the current climate.

~

After a quick dinner, choosing to avoid Ginny's moaning and instead sitting with Neville; Hermione followed the stone corridor down to her favourite library spot.

She settled down. Brushing through her crazed hair with her fingers, laying out books to distract her from worries about Harry and Ron. She'd heard enough about snatchers for her liking, and clearly Ginny had too.

It seemed she'd arrived again before Malfoy, although not surprising after avoiding catching his eyes in the great hall. Hermione was too curious about Malfoy's situation to let it go, was she right? Did he really want to attempt to remove his Dark mark?

Either way, it was playing on her mind and she secretly hoped that he would show tonight and perhaps give her an answer. Although she could anticipate what it would be. Not only that but she could also anticipate how disappointed Harry and Ron would be at her for trying to help someone as insightfully dreadful as Draco Malfoy.

Hermione felt him walk through the doors less than an hour later, she didn't look up or attempt to greet him. Instead she waited, breathing slowly and flatly, pretending to write as his hard steps grew closer.

Then he stopped. She could feel his smirk from behind her, his grey eyes piercing into her back.

Hermione ignored him whilst silently panicking.

Whilst he assumed she was too involved in her work, he stood and watched her with his chin held high. Thoughts lingered that probably shouldn't. He watched her, and she could feel his eyes blaring into her side without wavering.

He could simply stand and watch her for hours. How could it be that somebody could be so imperfect in their blood yet so perfect at everything else?

Collecting his damaging thoughts, he sighed heavily and moved closer.

"Granger." He greeted flatly.

His voice was clear and precise, and it surprised her as she placed down her quill and turned to address him.

He was smirking ever so slightly as she had expected, looking down at her, hands tucked away in his Slytherin robes. He looked tired, dark circles still engraved around his shining eyes yet somehow it suited his features terribly. Annoyingly.