Eleven

                                    

                                          

She couldn't believe what she was doing.
After the events of the Christmas ball, things had gone normal for the first half of it — as soon as she left the ballroom, madness managed to open the doors into her life one more time.
Draco Malfoy was an arrogant, cunning, cruel, boy — having absolutely zero remorse or consideration of how others might feel in result of his actions. He was daddy's little boy, and Hermione Granger despised him.
So why in the hell was the witch helping him?
She groaned, as she practically dragged his body back to the Slytherin common room. Malfoy had an arm lunged across Hermione's shoulder, his head hanging as the intoxication of the alcohol clearly got to the point of blacking out. Trust me, the witch could've gone and left yielding no further interaction with the boy, yet, when his body hit the ground — the healer, the part in her that was still good, told her to stay and to help.
But Merlin knows, it would only be the first and the last time the witch should ever do anything like this. It was almost insulting. Not to just to her, to Gryffindor to, her friends — her family. She was helping the boy that bullied her for years, tormented her, for things the girl simply could not control.
She heaved. Let us not forget, the boy was a 6'2 tall wizard that weighed double her amount — she could barley carry the boy for Godric's sake. Hermione swallowed thickly as she made her way to the front of the Slytherin common room, granted, it was well known the two despised each-other and wanted nothing more than to see each-other dead. Walking in with a passed out Malfoy across her shoulder was not going to be easy, it was not something the witch had looked forward too.
But, fate had slightly been on her side this time. Since it had almost been three in the morning, it was sure most students were put to bed. Moreover, there would only really be prefects awake at this time. Especially since the ball had ended.
As silently and subtly as she could, she opened up the door and waltzed in. Her almond eyes gazed across the dark green and silver room. It was exactly how Hermione would've imagined it, there was no deep shock that the Slytherin pride was certainly there and the students had worn it proudly.
"What're you doing?" 
Hermione froze, shutting her eyes for a brief moment before she turned around to face who the mysterious voice had been. Indeed, as she guessed, fate was not on her side. 
She faced around, dragging Malfoy with her as he was still blacked out drunk, still hanging over Hermione. The witch stilled when she saw a suspicious, almost angry Pansy Parkinson, standing with her arms crossed as she eyed the Gryffindor girl.
She practically winced, as the situation looked incredibly out of context and misplaced to a blind eye. "Pansy," Hermione dragged. 
"Why is my date around your body right now?" She gave a glare, staring at the situation before her. 
"It's not what you think at all." Hermione drew back, glancing at Malfoy, who's head laid low — eyes shut. The witch stared for a moment, she has never seen the boy look so — content.
It was almost scary.
"Is it? Cause' im very curious as to why he ran off with you tonight," she began, "he always talks about you, and how much he hates you." She snorted loudly, retrieving a small twitch like movement from Malfoy from the sudden loud noise.
Hermione hated every single moment of this. Not only did Pansy think she and the cruel boy had done something, but here she was — getting interrogated. She was tired, still in her maroon dress — her makeup beginning to crease. She just wanted to drop off Malfoy on his bed and exit quickly, clearly that wouldn't be the case at all.