Cold

Chapter Eight: Control

September 25th

Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room by herself and tried to focus on her assignments, but it was hard. No matter how much she denied it, deep down, she missed Draco.
     Closing her notebook, Hermione figured she may as well go to bed, since that's where everyone else was. She could finish all of her assignments on the weekend.
     She climbed into bed and laid down on her back, hiding deep under the covers.
     Finding herself restless, she tried to make up reasons she didn't like Draco anyways. Ron and Harry can't stand him, for one thing, she thought. His parents were Death Eaters. He's... his hair is... too perfect, she struggled with legitimate reasons.
     Hermione turned onto her side and shut her eyes tight. His skin is always so cold, she thought before finally drifting off to sleep.

September 27th

It was finally the weekend. Hermione sat in the library with some of her friends from Ravenclaw. They were working on assignments that would be due Monday.
The library was almost empty that morning, but Hermione felt crowded. There was only one person she wanted to be with at the moment but she couldn't. She shouldn't. He wasn't her friend and he never would be.
In the middle of working on a Potions assignment, the library doors opened and one person walked in. Hermione could feel his presence before she looked up.

Draco only took a few steps before his eyes met Hermione's. She gave him a half-hearted glare and tried to go back to her work. Seconds later, she looked up again. He held his gaze. She stared back, half angry, half longing.
The Ravenclaws she was sitting with started to notice. "What's he staring at?"
"He better not want something."

Draco stood still, eyes unmoving. He leaned against a nearby table and crossed his arms. Though he showed no expression, his eyes were coaxing Hermione to him. She didn't listen.

Hermione slammed her book closed and packed everything in her bag. She whispered something to her friends and they all left together.
On the way out, Hermione made sure to collide into his shoulder with her own. He didn't budge, and she had to brush past him in an awkward manner.

Draco stayed where he was, not turning around to look at Hermione. He couldn't control her. This realization hit him for the first time and he felt helpless.
     It was different when he lost his parents. When they died, he was sure they loved him. But Hermione hated him and was choosing not to be around him. And it was his fault.

October 10th

Hermione was torn between forgiveness and holding a grudge. She wanted to forgive him, but he didn't deserve it. He deserved hate, but she couldn't hate him.
Her best option was to pretend he didn't exist. Not that it was easy.
She just didn't get the same feeling when she talked to Ron or Harry. That warmth only came from the cold boy she had come to know.

Sighing, Hermione got up from her spot in the common room. She needed fresh air.
She walked out of the castle alone. It was nearing dark, so she'd have to go back soon. Hermione walked slowly through the wet grass. It had been raining all day and the air was chilly.

Up in a high floor of the castle was Draco. He strode through the hallway carelessly, until he passed a window and stopped to look out of it. Down below on the grass walked Hermione.
The first thing he noticed was that she was, for the first time in a while, unaccompanied by any of her friends. He saw this as a chance to get her to talk to him.
He broke out into a sprint, down the stairway, through the halls, and out the door. He knocked into a few other students on his way, but it didn't matter. Draco couldn't stand her absence in his life any longer.