Outcasts | 5 Slytherins 1 Hermione

V

A/N: TW: Claustrophobia

Hermione stares at the spot Marcus disappeared from. After what felt like hours she steps out of the alcove, her mind a whirlwind of shock and confusion. Each step feels heavier than the last as if the gravity of their encounter weighs her down physically as much as it does emotionally. Her thoughts swirl chaotically, struggling to make sense of the intense, conflicting feelings Marcus's words stir within her. The silence of the corridor seems to echo the turmoil inside her, making the journey back to her dorm feel longer and more solitary than ever.

Then, her mind drifts to his actions, his forcefulness, and how readily she succumbed to him. The realization brings a pang of discomfort, prompting her to question her actions. Was she really this desperate? Is this willing to be taken so easily?

'Don't you find it peculiar how you gravitate towards the snakes?'

She dissects each syllable of his question, determined not to overlook any nuance. Yes, she realizes, there's a strange pull towards them, an unsettling willingness on her part to let them do whatever they wish with her. It is indeed peculiar. Secretly harboring feelings for Draco over the years is one thing, but this newfound difficulty in suppressing her desires for more than just him is quite another. She questions when her willpower began to weaken, and why her self-control seems to be non-existent.

Upon entering her dorm room, she immediately begins to pace, her mind racing. What is this obsession with them? She wonders why she's been pining over Draco for so long and now finds herself ensnared by a curiosity about Riddle and Theo.

One constant she has noticed though, She felt as if she was being tested. Could Riddle be orchestrating all of this? It wouldn't surprise her. Or, more disconcertingly, could it be Draco? She desperately hoped not, wishing circumstances were different—that she could turn back time to before Draco allowed Death Eaters into Hogwarts, perhaps guiding him towards a better path. She's probably overestimating the impact she and Draco could have had on the war's outcome.

Then there was their encounter in the library, each moment not blurred by alcohol tattooed in her memory.

"See, Granger, it's simple, look here," he points to his book, "This is why you smash the Sopophorous bean before squeezing the juice into the cauldron." She already knew this, thanks to Harry, and she was aware Draco did too, but she just enjoyed riling him up. The effects of her day of drinking gave her confidence she otherwise wouldn't have had.

"The book is wrong, Malfoy," she states, unbothered. She can taste his frustration in the air, the thrill of it quickening her heartbeat.

"You're seriously going to say that I'm wrong after asking for my help?" he retorts, clearly agitated, and beautifully oblivious to her attempts at getting this reaction out of him.

Suppressing a smirk, she stands, hoping to divert his attention from her enjoyment of his reaction. Placing her hands on her hips and looking down at him, she quips, "Well, when I asked, I assumed you'd offer insight I wasn't already aware of, but clearly—"

Her words are cut short as he stands, positioning himself mere inches from her. "Clearly, you already know everything, otherwise you'd be a bit more receptive to what I'm trying to tell you," he says, his jaw tensing visibly.