Memories

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Hogwarts Express [December 10th]

"Aren't you coming, Hadrian?" Draco Malfoy called out, sticking his head through the open doorway.

Hadrian kept his eyes on Hermione Granger, watching as she slowly packed up her books and placed them into her satchel with an almost absurd amount of care. She reached down to tie her muggle trainers, her curly hair falling over the side of her face in an attempt to purposefully avoid his gaze.

He waved his hand dismissively, "I'll be there soon. Leave us, Draco."

Draco eyed him wearily in return, shooting a quick glance at the girl he had slowly become accustomed to over the years–but not one he particularly enjoyed the company of, for that matter. Every time he looked at her, he couldn't help his gaze dropping downwards to the faint white scar that was healing slowly across her palm.

"What happened to your hand, Hermione?" Daphne had gasped when she had first seen the deep red gash in Granger's hand during lunchtime.

Draco had watched her reaction then, as well. Watched how her shoulders had stiffened unnoticeably and how her eyebrows scrunched into the slightest of frowns. He had panicked, thinking she would reveal their conversation the night before. But Granger did no such thing. He stared at her in slight awe as she forced her features into a sheepish expression, as she shook her head in what appeared to be embarrassment. She was a born actress, it seemed.

"I was cutting some flobberworms in Potions this morning and my knife slipped." She explained without hesitation, and without a glance at him.

It seemed so natural, so simple, and so innocent coming from her lips that nobody questioned it. Neville even asked her about Snape's reaction and she laughed good-naturedly, spinning some tale about losing a few house points and enduring Snape's scathing remarks.

Not once did she look in his direction, or utter his name, or even acknowledge his presence. And for reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint, that irked him so.

"Draco?"

He snapped out of his thoughts, looking at Hadrian with slight confusion. Riddle gestured towards Hermione, and his lips twitched in amusement, "You were staring."

His cheeks colored upon realizing he was so lost in his thoughts he had been staring at the insufferable know-it-all the entire time. She ducked behind that bushy hair-curtain of hers, but not before Draco caught a glimpse of her face–which had turned slightly pink too, probably as a result of his blatant staring.

He shook his head, disoriented. "Right.... I suppose I'll just go wait outside," He nodded, as if to confirm his actions and began to back out of the room slowly and close the door behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and before he could stop himself, he blurted out "See you after the holidays, Granger."

Hadrian raised an eyebrow at Draco's abrupt departure, "Well that was a bit odd, don't you think?"

Hermione pursed her lips, "Quite."

Hadrian leaned his trunk against the wall and sat down, watching Hermione fuss around the cabin for a bit. He noticed her jerky movements had a lingering reluctance to them, as if she didn't even want to collect all her belongings.

"Are you going to tell me what is in that pretty little head of yours?" He finally asked, crossing his arms against his chest. He smiled teasingly, "Or do I have to pry it out of you myself?"

She glanced over at him, "I don't particularly want to talk about this, Hadrian. You wouldn't understand."

He leveled his gaze, "Tell me anyways."

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