Inverse

Change of Mind

Chapter 8: Change of Mind

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Hermione spent the next two weeks biting the inside of her cheek and digging her nails into her palms until four small c-shaped marks decorated each hand. She mindlessly completed her homework, making sure to write exactly to the desired length. Her thoughts continuously drifted to Malfoy.

The moment his Charms class was over, he stalked over to the Slytherin dungeons with Crabbe and Goyle at his side without a word. Releasing a resigned sigh, she sat outside the hidden portrait, disillusioned and wondering how she was going to save herself from this one.

She didn't understand him. One week he's insulting her very existence, then the next week he asks for her to regard him like everyone else. Hermione buried her face in her hands and sank to her knees, letting her robes pile on the cold floor. Was he possible just playing with her? She shook her head, recalling those rare expressions that she didn't think he was capable of making. In fact, there were plenty of surprising moments where she was utterly proved wrong about his character.

She began mentally filing what she currently knew of Malfoy into 'goods' and 'bads'. Firstly, he was an evil git. Scratch that—there needed to be solid, she needed concrete facts and not opinions, no matter how much they seemed to be true.

He was a pureblood. He was rich. He was a Slytherin.

Hermione halted her mental filing and frowned. Where would she put those facts? She couldn't necessarily shove those qualities to the 'bad' section, they were things he was born with, and not something he chose.

A clog turned in her head, and she felt something switch on. Hermione dropped her hands. Was it possible that she had been seeing the irreversible qualities in him as the negative? She inwardly grumbled. Of course it was. All this time, she had it placed in her mind that he was a shallow person with the facial expression capacity of a statue. It's not that he didn't have 'good' parts of him, but the fact that she had refused to see it.

Her chest burned. She was no better than Pansy Parkinson, just hanging around Malfoy because of the irreversible qualities. She had been so set on trying to change him; she had missed the smaller, still genuine parts that made him not just another Malfoy, but Draco.

Taking a moment to fully understand her revelation, she then hissed at herself. The man was in Slytherin, he was subtle with his true feelings and thoughts. And she was sure growing up under the care of a man like Lucius Malfoy wasn't a complete skip through a meadow of flowers either.

Hermione smacked her forehead repeatedly and released a confused breath. This whole mission was overwhelming her in ways she didn't think possible. Deciding that she needed to talk to him again as soon as possible, she begrudgingly pulled herself from the dungeons and removed the charm. Her borrowed hours were up, and it was time to get back into real time.

Her spirits didn't get any better as she heard the news of Harry screaming and clutching his scar during Divination a week before the third task. She paced in the common room with Ron, waiting for him to come back. The second he slipped through the portrait door, she rammed him with questions until Ron clamped his hand over his face and demanded that she'd calm down.

Harry repeated his conversation with Professor Dumbledore. She was shocked to hear about the trails regarding previous death eaters, including Karkaroff and Bagman in the pensieve.

"And you're telling me Dumbledore still trusts Snape?" Ron asked sounding baffled. "I don't believe it."

"He does," Harry assured.

"And he says You-Know-Who is getting stronger again?" Ron's voice weakened.

"Yes," Hermione answered this time, surprising both boys. Dumbledore had told her there was danger approaching when he gave her the Malfoy mission. He must have known this day would come. "Now come on—no more questions, Harry has to practice, the third task is next week!"