mágoa ( ✓ )

chapter one

IN THE DAYS that followed, Hermione Granger remained upset with her two best friends. Typically, she was the one to keep the peace between the boys, but she was tired of it. She was tired of continuously being there for everyone, and being let down in the end — every single time. She wanted to think of herself: to do her own thing, but as she'd never done that before, she found herself missing them. She huffed a breath; all of the nine circles of Hell would have to freeze over before she would be the one to cave and apologize.

She spent more time in the library than ever before, studying extra hard to keep her mind off the boys and the impending second task of the Triwizard Tournament. She knew Harry hadn't figured out the golden egg he'd received from the first task, and the riddle-loving part of her wanted desperately to get her hands on it and crack the code, but she would not let herself. As Hermione threw her head into her hands, dark brown bushy curls falling in front of her almond eyes, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. She kept her head down, signaling how much she did not want to talk to whoever was there.

"Still angry with Potter and the Weasel then?" It was a lilting voice, and the Muggle-Born glanced up to see Pansy Parkinson smirking down at her. She pursed her lip, frowning and crossing her arms stubbornly. Pansy's smirk only widened. "What? Too proud to talk to a Slytherin like me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I just don't see why you're getting involved in my business, Parkinson. It's never seemed to bother you this much before, and we've been classmates for four years now."

"I'm a nosy person, what can I say?" The black-haired girl shrugged, taking a seat opposite Hermione and cradling her face in her pale hand. Her dark eyes observed the Gryffindor with interest. She squirmed under her gaze.

"Don't you have some mean girl-esque things to be doing with Bulstrode and Greengrass? Or maybe even canoodling with Malfoy?" She asked, brown eyes piercing into the short-haired girl.

"I do, but I think I'd much rather hang out with you here. It's so," Pansy paused, glancing around the library. They were seated near a window which overlooked the snowy grounds of Hogwarts. Classes were due to start in a little under a week now, and students were taking as much lounging time as they could manage before the pressure started up again. "Peaceful."

Hermione scoffed. "It's a library, and no offense Parkinson, but you and I aren't friends, and you're disrupting the only place I have to myself nowadays. So, please-"

Pansy's dark eyes shimmered. Her full lips turned upwards in an emotionless smile and she stood slowly, pushing in the chair behind her. She turned back to face the Gryffindor one last time: "You'll come to find that, friends or not friends, I am not going to leave you alone. You see, you're something of an enigma to me, Granger, and I am determined to figure you out."

The click click click of heels faded as Pansy Parkinson left the library, and Hermione exhaled in aggravation. Madam Pince made a shushing sound in her direction, causing the bushy-haired girl to wince. She stood quickly, gathering her school books and rushing from the library. It was pointless to stay there: it wasn't like she was doing any real studying anyways.

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The Gryffindor Common Room was bustling with life as Hermione Granger crawled through the Fat Lady's portrait hole. The fire was roaring against the January chill, and students were sat around on the plush couches trying out their Christmas gifts or mingling. In one corner, her brown eyes met the striking green of Harry Potter's, and for a moment it looked as though he were going to stand and talk to her, but then Ron Weasley, who hadn't followed Harry's gaze, said something to make him direct his attention away.