Chapter Four

Draco

The door opens after I draw the pattern on the wall. I yawn as I step inside. The blaze in the fireplace is now just a plethora of glowing embers. Hermione isn't here yet, so I venture over to the couch and sit down. I retrieve my wand out of my shirt pocket, point it at the fireplace, and shout The fire instantly turns into a large blaze. I lean back on the couch and stretch out my arms. Surely she'll be here soon.

In the meantime, I head over to the desk and get out a piece of parchment and a quill. I begin writing some of our project about Patronuses. I write for about fifteen minutes before deciding to try to cast a Patronus myself. To conjure a Patronus, you have to think of a happy memory. The happiest moment of your life. Do I even have one? All of the "happy" memories from my past are derived from evil.

I yell. A silver wisp as fragile as a wilting plant bursts out of my wand. If anyone else would've seen it, it would even be embarrassing. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

Thirty minutes later, I finally admit it: Hermione's not coming. Sighing, I rip up the parchment I had written on, go over to the couch, and lie down.

Hermione is the closest thing to a friend that I have, and even she doesn't want to be around me.

I shouldn't have come back to Hogwarts.

* * *

The steady patter of rain on the windows wakes me up, and I look at my watch.

"Blimey!" I shout.

Class starts in three minutes. I clumsily stumble off of the couch. My robes are already on because I slept in them, and my books are in a bag in the corner. Running, I get them and dash out of the room, accidentally going right through a ghost.

"Watch where you're going!" The ghost yells at me.

Once again, I check my watch: two minutes. It would've been nice to have a wake up call like yesterday.

Two minutes later, just as class is due to begin, I burst through the door. Everyone turns to look at me. The table I sat at yesterday with Hermione is empty, so I sit there by myself.

What did I do to her?

Attempting to look nonchalant, I turn around and glance for her. She's sitting next to a blonde Gryffindor girl: Ambrosia West, who hates me just like everyone else at Hogwarts. Ambrosia catches my glance and shoots me a threatening look, and I turn around again.

Professor Aberforth instructs us to work on our project, and everyone begins to cast Patronuses. I make my way up to his desk.

"Um, Professor, I don't have a partner." I admit, looking down.

"Yes, you do. You have Miss Granger."

"No, sir. Her partner is Ambrosia now."

He glances over my shoulder and says, "Well, there seems to be nobody else, so I'm afraid you'll have to work alone on the project, Mr. Malfoy."

I nod and venture back to my seat. Sadly, I don't have the essay I wrote on Patronuses last night since I ripped it up. There's parchment in my book bag, though, so I get some and begin writing again.

I don't look up from my paper until an hour later, when it is time to change classes. I pull my wand out of my shirt pocket and whisper, The parchment and quill instantly put themselves into my bag, and I throw it over my shoulder.

Hermione is about to walk past my table. Should I attempt to talk to her, ask her what I did? Or let her go without trying?

Gathering up my courage, when she passes, I begin, "Hey, Her-"

She looks up at me and right back down again, and Ambrosia keeps up with her, giving me a rude look as she passes by.

The only positive thing that I can sense is that she's avoiding Weasley, too, so I'm not the only one. She stalks out of the room with Ambrosia close behind her, and I walk after them, staying behind.

My next class is Transfiguration. I watch Hermione make her way down the hallway and scowl. If she wants to play this game, she'd better know I'm good at it.

The Transfiguration classroom is off to itself, not near any other classrooms. This class is with the Ravenclaws. Some of them are following me to it, and I speed up so I am a considerable distance from them. When I reach the classroom, McGonagall's eyes follow me to my seat. After I sit my stuff down, she motions for me to come up to her desk. When I reach it, she looks expectantly at me, wanting me to say something. I look around in silence until she finally does.

"Mr. Malfoy," She begins, getting my attention, "how are Miss Granger and you getting along?"

I hesitate before shaking my head and answering, "We're not."

She looks a bit shocked when she responds, "Really? How odd. Yesterday, when I asked her, she said things were going swimmingly."

"Yes, well, things have changed since yesterday." I maintain eye contact with her, when I'd rather not.

"Mr. Malfoy, as her teacher for many years now, I suggest you give her a chance. She's really a sweet, ca-"

"It's not me, Professor. It's her."

"Oh, come on now, don't point fingers like little children." She scolds.

"Honestly, last night I asked her if she wanted to work on our Defense Against the Dark Arts project, and she didn't come. Today she's avoiding me like I'm some sort of ." Unintentionally, my voice is venomous.

"Well, I'll have to talk to her about that."

"Don't bother. Let her hate me again." I scoff.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm not going to tolerate childish behavior. Now go have a seat." She looks down at her papers again, and I walk away.

Talking about the situation to someone makes me even angrier about it; it feels as if there is a fire burning within me that cannot be extinguished. Questions swarm in my head, but class begins, and I push them away.

* * *

After all of my classes for today, I head back to our- - common room. My book bag goes back into the corner. There's not a fire in the fireplace, so I create one with the spell. I go to sit down on the couch, and I realize there's a note. It reads:

It seems to be written in Hermione's handwriting. I throw it into the fire.

I'm going to go, though. I'm going to find out what all of this is about.

For the time being, I go over to the desk and sit down, pulling out my Patronus project. The parchment assessment is almost completed, but I still haven't had any luck with the spell itself. I don't have a memory that's happy enough.

After a few minutes of working, I check my watch. Dinner starts in five minutes. I leave my stuff where it is and get up to go. The corridor is full of students going to dinner. They look at me oddly, because from what they can see, I just emerged out of the wall. Yaxley is running towards me, and I speed up, avoiding him. I'm not in the mood for "my biggest fan" right now.

A minute later, we all arrive at the Great Hall. The food is already on the tables, and I sit in my usual seat at the end. Still, no one sits around me; not even Yaxley, which doesn't upset me. I feel someone looking at me, and I look around to see who it is. It's Weasley. He sits beside his sister and her friends. Potter and Hermione are at the other end of the table. I shoot Weasley a look. He looks away, frowning.