06| The Interrogation

                                    

                                          
"Malfoy," she said, a stone cold expression on her face as her enemy turned to address her. They were standing in a corridor alone, after Hermione had had to physically remove Harry and Ron, as much as that pained her to do, and follow Malfoy after Potions, to finally get some decent answers for once. 
                          
He smiled widely, a cruel, sickening smile, looking down on her from his height. "I've got an essay for you, Granger," he teased. 
                          
"Shut up," she quipped. "You owe me an explanation." 
                          
Malfoy crossed his arms and leant against the stone wall, a smirk still glued hatefully onto his face. "I don't owe you shit. I didn't start these rumours, it was Pansy. You think I like being associated with you?"
                          
Hermione sighed dramatically. This was probably going to be a very long and painful conversation. Perhaps she should have heeded Ron's advice and just ignored the lot of them, but what Harriet had said made her think. 
                          
She knew her new friend wouldn't make something like that up, she had no reason to. Plus, it scared Hermione to think that even if she had been talking to Malfoy, somehow Harriet had come to the conclusion that she had any feelings other than sheer hatred towards him. With that in mind, along with the hope that Harriet made an honest mistake, she had become more understanding of how these rumours were believed, but mainly just curious about why Malfoy had been 'hanging out' in the library with her, even if it hadn't been for a long period of time. She was perfectly calm, and trying to keep the anger waiting to burst kept up inside, so they could get to the bottom of this. 
                          
"Why were you in the library with me before?" She asked, feeling like McGonagall as she interrogated him like this. 
                          
Malfoy rolled his dirty grey eyes. "I told you already. We had an agreement, you did my homework," he snapped. "Is that all?" 
                          
"I don't buy that," she replied, just as crossly. Merlin, she was sure that if she hated him any more it would actually be more than she hated Voldemort. He was exactly as Ron said, a dirty, lying, sneaky-
                          
"I'd tell you the whole story, but you won't believe me. You'll just run off back to your little friends, or cry into your books. So piss off." He snarled. 
                          
"Give me the whole story," she commanded ignoring his insult. She didn't want to stay with him any longer than he wanted to stay with her. He swiped back his thin white hair, groaning.
                          
"Only if you don't bloody run off this time," he gave in. 
                          
"I won't." 
                          
•
                          
It was in November, the year before. Ron and Lavender had just got together, last week, in fact. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were making a lot of noise in the Three Broomsticks, finishing off some liquor Blaise had stolen from his parents over Christmas and flirting with anyone near them. There was snow outside but the fire was warm and the place was like a candle in the dark, welcoming, drawing people in from the vast expanse outside. 
                          
Hermione was one of those drawn in. With the despair setting in, the sense of impending doom in the form of Ron's new lover settling over her head like an ominous black cloud, the only thing she wanted to do was drown herself in some kind of numbing spell. However, she didn't know any of those, and after a particularly long day of watching them kiss she had decided to break the rules for once, and not just to heroically save lives. No numbing spell, so alcohol would have to do, and her mind was made up as she pushed open the door to the smell of butterbeer and the sound of laughter.