Sensorial (Dramione)

Chapter 4. Conflictive

"What the bloody hell happened back there, Mione?"

Hermione tightened her hand around her water goblet and sucked a breath in between her teeth. She looked up into Ron's pale blue eyes and shook her head.

"Don't ask. I can't even remember how we started arguing." replied Hermione.

That was a lie, of course. She could remember every detail. But thanks to her sodding promise to Professor Dumbledore, she was forbidden from divulging Draco's dark secret, so the tale of her troubles with Malfoy would also have to remain hidden from her best friends.

"He's a right prat, do you want me to ask Slughorn to move you away from him?" Harry asked.

She sighed, "there's no point. Dumbledore and McGonagall are insisting that we behave civilly towards each other."

Hermione glared over at the Slytherin table. He was there. She instantly spotted his silvery blonde hair and his distant expression. He looked more troubled since she had last seen him, which was only a few hours ago. They had yet to serve their first detention and she could only guess how terribly it would play out. Nevertheless, she was intrigued by his demeanour. She was used to the arrogant, aristocratic smirk that Malfoy usually wore. His back straight with pride and his mouth spitting out witty insults. This version of Malfoy–the one that had been present since they had been back at school–was like an empty shell. A poorly made copy. The insults were still there, just lacking an edge. His eyes seemed dull, they were missing their molten sparkle, Hermione begrudgingly noticed. Plus, he looked thinner. Unhealthy, even.

Draco sunk his teeth into a Granny Smith apple and Hermione looked away. Always green apples. What did he love about them so much? She always found them to be too sour with a bitter aftertaste, but perhaps she'd picked from an unfortunate bunch. Still, she made a mental note to read up about Granny Smith apples at a later date. As they say, you are what you eat, so perhaps she would be able to gain a sort of insight into Malfoy's complex character.

Yes. Her mind was changing. After that question he had asked, she felt a small but very present spark of hope. Maybe Dumbledore had seen something in Draco that nobody else had–something good–and maybe that was why he wanted Hermione to befriend him. He had let his facade slip and had so innocently asked her the question, she was almost convinced that it wasn't Draco in front of her at all. She tried to convince herself that he had asked the question to purposefully provoke her, after all that was the catalyst that led to their fight, but she couldn't question the earnest look in his eyes.

"I guess we'll see you once you're done then." Ron shot her a tight smile.

Hermione nodded.

Harry and Ron walked away from the Gryffindor table and she sighed for the umpteenth time. She missed her friends desperately. With Harry away on Saturday's for his private lessons with Dumbledore, and Ron avoiding her since their summer together, she felt that their friendship had been somewhat strained. She didn't blame either of them, Harry was occupied with important business and he tended to fill her in on things when he got the chance and Ron...well, they admitted their feelings together in an awkward stroll around the Burrow during summer. She had initially felt relieved to have everything laid out on the table; the next step to take would be a relationship. But it never happened. Ron hadn't asked her to be his girlfriend and any spark she thought they shared had now fizzled out. They hadn't gone too far in their physical relationship, but it was enough to still make Hermione question whether or not he had just been using her for some sort of sexual release. Either way, she decided to put it to the back of her mind. There were far too many things to focus on and frankly, she decided that if Ron and her were meant to be something it would have happened naturally given all the time they spend together.