NOVEL NEXT Chapter 17: Chapter 17
Of the two-hundred-and-fifty odd students that had returned to Hogwarts, only thirty-two bore the green tie. All were fourth years or younger and had taken to dining and socialising with the other houses in small groups. None of them wanted to be associated with the stereotypes of their house, and had done everything to avoid association with the snake emblem. As far as she knew, they didn't even sleep in the dungeons, and had taken up in the many spare beds cluttered around the various dorms.
It was sad really.
They were so desperate to avoid assumptions and bad impressions, even though their presence at Hogwarts alone was proof enough that they didn't agree with Voldemort's views. They were just like everyone else; hoping for safety and praying for it all to end.
She hated Malfoy just that little bit more then, for being so fickle and conforming to the stereotypes that came with Salazar's legacy, and her stare waltzed up the table to land at the spot she'd last seen him sit.
She remembered how awful he'd looked during sixth year and scolded herself for being so naïve to the signs of what had been coming. She could remember her comments to Harry about him, and how she'd almost sounded concerned. How could she have been so blind?
"Hermione," a soft feminine voice pulled her back to the present, and she turned to face Luna. "You okay there? You looked a little distant."
She fought hard not to squint at the irony-laced comment. "I'm fine, Luna," she sighed, gesturing to her book. "Just having a bit of difficulty focussing on this. I think I might head up to the library."
"Already?" Ginny frowned, and Hermione noted her concern was genuine. "You've barely touched your food."
The brunette glanced down at her half-nibbled Sunday Roast. "I'm not that hungry," she shrugged, pushing her plate aside. "I had quite a big breakfast."
She could see their reluctance to believe her, and she couldn't blame them. She knew she'd lost some weight since Harry and Ron had left, but it wasn't so much that she was starving herself, or really eating less food at all; she just ate at abnormal times. It was the insomnia again. Maybe she should take up Slughorn on his Dreamless Sleep Potion offer.
"Do you want some company in the library?" Neville offered earnestly. "I guess I could work on my Herbology essay."
"No, that's fine," she shook her head, rising from the table. "I know you don't like the library and you haven't finished your dinner."
"I might pop up later then," he compromised, spearing another sprout with his fork. "It was nice to see you though, Hermione."
"It really was," Ginny nodded, accompanied by a hum of agreement from Seamus and Dean. "Will you come see us tomorrow?"
No.
"I'll try," she breathed quietly, giving her fellow lions and the blonde eagle a soft smile. "It was nice to see you all too."
She gathered her belongings and turned to leave with a delicate wave in their direction. She could already hear their hushed tones fluttering amongst the Great Hall as she left, all discussing how bad she looked, no doubt. They would talk about the dark smudges under her bloodshot eyes and how her skin had turned a shade paler. Nothing vicious or remotely backstabbing. Just the truth. Just words of worry.
Perhaps she would have felt guilty if her body could accommodate any more negative emotions.
But it couldn't. Thoughts of Malfoy had pretty much filled her to the brim with spicy notions, and combined with a lot of loneliness and a dash of despair, she just didn't have the room.
The hope was still there though; just a flicker of optimism about the size of her heart that refused to perish. She clung to it desperately sometimes, and then cursed it the next moment. It was what kept her going and encouraged her late-night endeavours to read everything about Horcruxes, and also what lead her to continue Order training with McGonagall.
Yes, it was there. It just went missing sometimes...
The library was alive for a change. A few third years were crowded around a table discussing some Potions homework, and another desk was full with a set of fourth years. Madam Pince was tucked away in her usual spot too, with her beak stuck in a book and her narrow stare peering over the pages to watch the students. Hermione offered the sullen librarian a nod which wasn't reciprocated, before she looked back around the space with unsure eyes.
She spotted another batch of pupils behind a bookcase and decided the library was too busy for her liking. She needed solitude. She headed to the restricted section and plucked two of the books she needed from the shelf and decided she couldn't stay here if she wanted to read in peace. She slipped the weighty texts in her bag and contemplated going outside, but the weather was hardly suitable for a reading session.
She just wanted to go back to her room and curl up on the couch with a hot chocolate and literature for company.
But he was there.
Her brow creased with determination. Well, she was not going to be exiled from her own room because of that bastard. She refused. Why should she have to alter her routine just because of Malfoy? If the slimy prat played up, she could just lock him in his bedroom. She cast a quick concealment charm on the books as she left the library, her intelligence warning her that it wasn't wise for him to know the subject of her interest. If the little swine found out and somehow managed to escape, no doubt he would go skipping back to Voldemort, expecting a pat on the head for foiling Harry and Ron's plans.
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