Chapter 10

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"Do you think Harry told her?"

Hermione was anxiously fidgeting, tapping her fingers against the nightstand by Draco's bed. She was waiting for him to get dressed so they could go down to the Great Hall together.

"Maybe some of it," said Draco slowly, as he buttoned up his shirt.

Hermione sighed and bit her lip, flopping back onto the bed so she was staring at the ceiling. "What if she doesn't believe me?"

"Why wouldn't she believe you?"

"Because Ron's her brother."

"So?" asked Draco, lying down next to her.

"So that means something. You don't just automatically agree when someone calls your brother a rapist."

"She'll believe you. I mean she saw what happened last night." he said, his eyes hardening as he remembered what had happened, "Speaking of last night, Weasley's got another thing coming today for putting his hands on you."

She immediately shot up in bed, her eyes wide, "No, you can't-"

"I told you if he so much as looked at you I was going to kick his arse, and last night he did a lot more than look Granger." he said, his tone clipped.

"Malfoy you can't start a fight with him, especially not over me."

"Watch me."

"Malfoy you promised-"

"I know what I promised." he snapped. "He put his fucking hands on you, all bets are off."

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was already stressed out about seeing what Harry had told Ginny, she didn't need to be worried about her boyfriend getting into a fight with her ex-best friend.

It was all too much for so early in the morning.

"Can't you just be the bigger person and look the other way?"

"How long are you going to keep defending him?"

"How long are you going to keep using violence as a natural reaction to everything?"

"Until it stops working." he countered with a smirk.

"Malfoy, why are you being so difficult?"

"Because he put his fucking hands on you. What part of that are you not understanding?" he asked, getting off the bed.

"The part where you think beating him up is going to solve anything."

"Oh, because your whole forgive and forget thing worked out so well right?" he snapped.

She glared at him and stood up as well, "At least I'm mature enough to not handle everything with violence."

"Mature, or afraid?"

"I'm not afraid of-"

"Because any normal person would be afraid," he said, his voice softer, "What he did was so inexcusable and unforgivable I really don't understand how you managed to still talk to him as though he were your best friend."

"He was still my best-"

"Best friends don't do that!" he yelled, raking a frustrated hand through his hair.

"How would you know?" she snapped, finally losing her temper. "Your so-called-friends don't give to shits about you, and you don't really care about them either."

"What the fuck are you talking about Granger?"

"Crabbe and Goyle." she said, ticking them off on her hand, "They're about as smart as a goal post and still less useful. They didn't understand half of what you were always talking to them about, and the only reason you kept them around was because they made you look good and you wanted a few lackies."

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