Hermione decides not to bring it up.

She quickly becomes immersed in her own thoughts anyway. Soul-splitting. If Dumbledore is so adamant, Hermione's confident there won't be any texts on it in the library. Tom Riddle clearly hadn't found anything and somehow, Hermione thinks it unlikely that Dumbledore's added the subject matter to the library inventory in the time since then.

With no basis whatsoever to work from, Hermione still feels a building certainty that it has something to do with how Voldemort survived the Killing Curse when Harry was a baby. It's one of the most enduring mysteries of all, and there's no doubt it would be a fixation for Dumbledore. How had he done it? It had to be sorted.

Was it with a Horcrux? Hermione is beginning to believe it was.

* * *

"She's pretty funny, actually," Theo says, getting his hair out of his eyes as he reaches down into his bag.

Draco grits his teeth. It's not that he wouldn't consider Hermione to be funny. But even he can admit that most of their time together isn't spent joking around. The idea that Theo Nott has seen it and - and cultivated a side to her that Draco himself hasn't is absolutely maddening.

It's not that he couldn't do that. Of course he could, anytime he likes. But right this minute, they're stuck in this stupid farce of fake pairings because of his own rash actions. So aside from stealing kisses that don't last long enough in the hallways after dark, Draco can't nurture that side of Hermione himself.

What if she thinks Theo is funny in return? And actually, he knows she does. He saw her laughing right there in the library, a genuine and free sound he's certainly never brought out of her.

Draco tries his best to remind himself of the point. The whole purpose of this - outside the fact that it's really his doing in the first place - is that it seems realistic between her and Theo. Natural. Organic, something believable for Theo to infuriate his abusive prick of a father and to turn focus away from Draco's affections towards her, all at the same time.

What if Draco just isn't funny, though? Or what if Hermione doesn't think he is? Maybe she has a different sense of humour from him. What if Hermione wants someone who can make her laugh like that all the time?

He swallows hard, trying to focus on his Transfiguration essay. Even if Theo did successfully put up a convincing show tonight (both in the Great Hall during dinner and in the library later), Draco is the only one who's brought out another different side of Hermione. Maybe they don't spend their hours together laughing like that, but they spend them doing other things - things Theo's never done for her, and never will.

There are other sorts of genuine and free sounds that Draco makes her make. Sounds that she wants Draco to make her make.

This helps, but only a little.

Zabini flings himself into a chair at their table and this helps more. Draco welcomes the mental shift.

After six minutes of peace (if that), Blaise asks Theo how it went, and Draco's on edge all over again. He considers escaping to their dorm itself, but the dangling titbits of opinions and detail keep him hanging there, pretending like he isn't.

Zabini knows it's all false, but he still asks Theo if Hermione ("Granger") seemed reluctant. Draco fights back the hot flash of jealousy that of course she's reluctant, but she probably didn't show it, and no, it doesn't mean anything because she's definitely reluctant - how could she want to be there with Theo instead of him? She wouldn't. It's absurd. Not to mention how desperately Draco wants to be there in the library, revising with her like any two normal students and how badly he wishes they could do exactly that. Any night; every night.

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