To Me, From Me // DHr ✔️

e l e v e n

There goes the silence, there goes normality, and here lies Blaise Zabini.

"Come to fetch me, mate?" Malfoy tucked his hands into his pants as he walked over to Zabini. "Right on time."

Hermione huffed in mild frustration. Who knew getting under Malfoy's skin would be this hard? She used to do it just by breathing.

"Bye, Granger!" Zabini hollered as they both left her to her own. Looking back towards the sky, she decided it was time to get up as well.

Reaching into her own pocket to pull out her wand to cast yet another heating charm in replacement for the one on her that's starting to wear off, the photograph fell as she did. Sighing, she unfolded the piece of paper and held it, knowing that it's been a week and she still has no leads as to who the other person may be. The photo doesn't give much away of his identity aside from the silver ring that was captured only because the man had his right arm hooked around Hermione's waist. Apart from the blurry background of orange trees that indicate the autumn season, their clothing also suggests this as Hermione is wearing thr orange knit beanie and matching letter sweater that Molly has given her, wherein her mystery man is wearing a black one, based on the tiny part of him that is seen on the photo before the rest of him has been ripped off. None of this helps narrow him down, unfortunately, because she knows a lot of people who have black coats in their wardrobes in preparation for winter. Except for the ring, something that she knows most people definitely don't have.

Carefully folding it again, she put it back into her pocket and she walked on the path towards the Heads' dorms. She doesn't think she can spare any more effort into pretending she cares for the party that's raging in her old dorm, she's already seen Harry and that was enough for her.

"Astra." The portrait hole swung open and Hermione dragged her feet inside, already cannot wait to be finally in her bed and get some much-needed sleep.

Today had been exhausting for her but while it was physically taxing, she was grateful that she was busy. Being busy doesn't give her time to think and dwell about why Harry and Ron didn't invite her to come with them to the Auror program, or why Harry and Ron never wrote to her, or about her parents in general. Burying the unwanted thoughts deep down the recesses of her entire being is how she gets through day after day. Denial – this is how Hermione Granger survives.

----

The next morning started early for a Saturday, for the match between Harry and Malfoy was to happen right after breakfast. Everyone was at the Great Hall well before food was being served as to chatter amongst themselves about the upcoming match and place their bets. After all, this is to be the first, albeit unofficial, Quidditch match of the year and Slytherin has rallied up against the general disapproval of their peers because they have something to prove.

Hermione thought back to what Malfoy said to her last night, and how challenging Harry in Quidditch for everyone to spectate seems contradictory.

"I'm not begging for anyone's forgiveness."

She looked towards the Slytherin table and for once she saw a flurry of movement and not just the usual sombreness. The players are gathered in a circle in the middle, surrounded by their house-members of all ages who all talked animatedly with excitement. Malfoy was sitting at the center of it all but doesn't seem to be participating in any of the conversations, but that he too was just observing, taking in the high spirits of his housemates just as much as she is. And then it clicked to her.

He's doing this for them.