𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 [𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

HERMIONE tried not to miss him.

She pushed his name away from her mind as soon as it knocked on the walls. She distanced herself from seeing him and made Avery swear not to mention him when they were talking at lunch.

It proved to be harder than she first anticipated.

Avery fumbled on her words most of the time, and Hermione often heard his name being thrown about whilst walking through the corridors. The other patients weren't as clueless as Malfoy—most of them were terrible at having conversations. That was the thing about Malfoy—no interaction with him was ever boring; they always had something to talk about.

But he had hurt her, deeper than she liked to admit.

Zabini had clearly already been a terrible influence, they had only been together an hour and he managed to teach Malfoy slurs the pair of them used to insult people like her, Muggle-borns.

It was good in a way too, he was remembering, just not what she hoped he would.

What did she hope he would remember? She asked herself, she didn't know. At least not off the top of her head.

Hermione's gut constantly twisted as her mind always managed to wander its way back to him.

She didn't want to miss him, but she couldn't help it.

He was the only person who listened to her, let her cry, comforted her, calmed her, no judgement, and no unfair opinions. All he did was listen. Malfoy was the only one there for her. The only one who didn't make her feel afraid or ashamed to talk about what happened with Ron.

Avery supported her through her time of need, Pedro and Aaron too, but they would never understand the way Malfoy did—they wouldn't offer what he did, she knew that well.

He let her stay in his room while she sobbed over her husband. She was comfortable around him; he was her friend—Hermione missed her friend.

On another note, she couldn't bear look at him in the same way after what he said. He betrayed her.

The past week was different not seeing him every day—or at all for that matter.

She sighed, shaking herself out of her head as she focused once again on reality around her. She was in the staff room, an open notebook in front of her, and a quill and pot of ink.

Avery sat across from her, the barking laugh Hermione was used to lightening the brunette's mood. Cho was left of Avery, her cheeks scarlet red from laughter as her body vibrated. Then, she caught Hermione's eye.

"Did you take many notes like you said you would?" She glanced down at the blank page, and nodded. "Oh."

That answered her question.

"Well," She shrugged, her Scottish accent breaking off for another moment. "There's always after work."

Cho looked away again and stood, waving goodbye to Hermione and Avery as she returned to work.

Hermione rose from her seat and left shortly afterwards, wandering aimlessly around the corridors for the rest of her break. She had nowhere to be, and so she let her feet lead her wherever they felt like going.

Only she was met with a surprise along the way.

"Harry," She said, and he smiled politely. "How come you're visiting?"

"I wanted to know if you had thought about...you know, our last discussion."

She hadn't.

She had been so preoccupied with helping Malfoy and then quitting on him—distancing herself after what he said to her. Oh no, she was going to be sick.