:::An Unfair Exchange:::
As the two danced, they didn't notice the pair of emerald eyes that watched them intently from behind round glasses.
Harry stared at the couple, his gaze assessing them. He watched the way Draco Malfoy held Hermione, so straight and restrained—barely restrained, it seemed. To everyone else, the discomfort between them was simple—expected, even. But Harry saw the dark details and hidden changes beneath. Malfoy didn't keep her close, but his grip was tight on her body. He didn't look relaxed or happy, but the tension seemed to be made more of pain than of hate. He didn't speak to her, but his eyes said volumes, looking down at her as if she were some otherworldly being—half in bewitchment and half in torture. He held her as if he actually meant it...
As if somewhere, somehow, he'd done it before.
In the back of his mind, Harry had acknowledged the signs—Hermione's reluctance to accept his visions; her growing indifference to the charming Brandon Madison; the night she'd spent hiding in Gryffindor Tower; her distant gazes and strange moods…
The diamond necklace.
It had all been there in front of his eyes. He just hadn't wanted to see.
He fell deep into his thoughts as he watched them dance. Was Malfoy the reason she had recovered so quickly and so well? Was he the reason she had seemed happier, healthier? If he was, then what would happen when the bastard cast her aside like all the other chits? Or worse—after Harry's premonitions came true? Would he drag Hermione down with him? Would he leave her shattered and in the dust? Would they be able to piece her back together again once he did? She'd barely made it through the last time. She'd never survive another relapse.
Harry wasn't sure he could survive it, either.
He felt a wave of relief when the song finally ended. He watched the couple pull apart, each reluctant and relieved to let the other go. Hermione's date immediately appeared to retrieve her. There seemed to be instant tension between the two men, and Harry could see that words were already being exchanged.
He felt himself tense. He had heard that an incident had taken place between Madison and Malfoy in the library, but he had never in a million years thought to connect it to Hermione. Could the fight have had anything to do with her? It didn't seem so impossible now.
"Here—it's the last of the pumpkin juice." Ginny came up beside him, holding out a cup.
He didn't take it, didn't even look at it.
Ginny was peering dubiously into her own glass. "Someone spiked it with some kind of God-awful liquor, so it doesn't taste very—" She cut off, surprised when she felt the cup suddenly being plucked from her grasp. She watched amusedly as Harry downed the whole thing in a single gulp. "In need of a stiff drink?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. He still didn't look at her, so she followed his gaze. "Uh oh. Looks like a storm is brewing over there," she observed interestedly. "What's going on?"
"Don't know," Harry said shortly.
"I heard they almost came to blows in the library during our quidditch match." Ginny tilted her head. "They've never had a problem before. I wonder what happened."
"Yeah, I wonder."
"Probably Malfoy causing more trouble," Ginny sighed, watching their friend stand awkwardly in the distance. "Poor Mione. She has to put up with his shenanigans every day." She shook her head, her red curls swaying. "Random heroic episodes aside, living with Malfoy would be a bloody nightmare. I mean, everyone knows about his sexual escapades. But sharing a dormitory with it is another matter entirely! I'm sure she has to deal with it firsthand—"
