I Learned Your Pulse

"C'mon, happy!"

Hermione looked over at Draco, was appeared to be ignoring her existence entirely. His cheeks were flushed lightly pink, either a trick of the dim torch lighting or he was embarrassed. Hermione guessed the latter.

They passed a window. Outside, the world was black and sprinkled with the lighting of a million tiny stars, each twinkling in a rhythm unknown to the bereft capacities of man - and they were accompanied, she knew, by the biting coldness of November.

A whole month. A whole month had passed, and he still wouldn't speak to her. Whenever it was their night to patrol, he'd point her in one direction and he'd gone the other, making her thanking him impossible. It was often these days you'd see him couped up with a book nobody had ever heard of, in a language nobody knew. Nobody could read them, she doubted even he could, but it kept people away from him, which appeared to be what he liked. On nights like this, when there were two sets of prefects patrolling and they were forced to walk together, he'd ignore her presence entirely. Whenever she would come ear him, he'd come up with an excuse to disappear and she'd be left sighing.

She wasn't putting up with this much longer.Not any longer, in fact.

"Thank you," she said, taking the risk of him not answering.

But he could hardly pretend not to acknowledge it. Looking frustrated she'd broken the unspoken law of them not talking to each other, looking at each other if they could help it, he replied, in a tone as biting as the chilled air outside, "For what?"

"The first task. I wasn't going to be able to do it if you hadn't yelled to me."

"Oh, that." Embarrassed, definitely embarrassed - his pink cheeks flooded red. "You're welcome."

"Why'd you do it?"

"What?"

"What do you mean, 'what'?"

He was exasperated instantly. "Granger," he groaned.

"Oh, back to a last-name basis, are we?"

"Hermione!"

"That's better." she smirked an almost Draco-like smirk. Back to topic, why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"I'm afraid I've got you off-balance."

"Do what?" he demanded again.

"Have I gotten you off-balance?"

"Hermione, do what?"

"I'm sorry for getting you off-balance -"

"I am not moving until you tell me what I did!"

He had, in fact stopped moving. Hermione did not. She kept walking, the only set of footsteps now hers, and said to the boy behind her, "Alright, stay there and never find out, that's fine..."

There was a moment and then he was back at her side, heaving a great sigh. "You're as cunning as any Slytherin I know," he said, as a quazzy-compliment. "Now tell me, what did I do that you are questioning?"

"Why did you help me? Remind me of the things outside the task, the mirror -"

"I wasn't the only one -"

"I'm not asking for a list of whos, I'm asking why."

"I... well, it was my aunt you saw first, and -"

"Draco, honestly? I'm sick of secrets and lies, I had enough last year. Tell me the truth."

"I..." He was uncomfortable and that much was so obvious it was painful. "I didn't like seeing you... suffer."