"I do have some news which might cheer you up," she offered with a rare grin, and they were getting even rarer these days. "I received a letter from Nymphadora-
"Tonks?" she asked, her head snapping up with interest. "Is she okay?"
"She's fine as far as I know," the professor assured. "She's coming to visit for a couple of days to discus some safety measures for Hogwarts-
"Will I see her? Please let me see her, Prof-
"Calm down," McGonagall sighed. "She wants to keep her head down, so she's staying in The Three Broomsticks, and I'm happy to give you permission to stay with her for a couple of nights-
"Oh, thank you," Hermione smiled, relieved for this distraction in her otherwise troublesome day. "Thank you so much, Professor. When is she coming?"
"Next Thursday and she'll be leaving on Saturday," she explained, finishing up with Hermione's hand. "I expect you to attend all your classes, but I doubt you would have missed them anyway."
"Of course not, Professor."
"Then I have no issue with it," the Headmistress said. "And I think it might...do you some good to see her. You're looking a lot more troubled recently-
"Wait," the younger witch frowned as Draco slipped back into her head. Lips. "What about Malfoy?"
"What about him?" she replied calmly. "You said yourself he spends most of the time in his room. If anything, I'm sure he will be pleased to have some time on his own, and I would recommend you make the most of this little break from him. I know that you must find living with him difficult."
You have no idea, Professor...as of today, it just got that much more difficult...
"I guess," the brunette whispered, realising she had yet another secret, and this one was possibly the worst. "Are we still going to Hogsmeade this weekend?"
"Of course," McGonagall nodded. "I imagine many of your friends have asked you to bring things back."
I only asked Malfoy...
"No," she murmured, sealing her eyes to hide her guilt. "Just the one."
.
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"Don't you think it's sad?"
Hermione arched an eyebrow at her bright-haired companion. "Do I think what's sad?"
"That all those bees are going to die," Luna said quietly, adjusting herself in the library chair. "Twenty-two people were bitten, so that's at least twenty-two bees."
She offered her friend a weak but affectionate smile and privately thanked the pretty blonde for providing her with some level of a distraction. The library was cold and empty save two fifth years stashed away in the other corner, and the winter evening was starting to cast a navy darkness into the musky space. Surrounded by enchanting books and in Luna's innocent presence, Hermione found her tempestuous thoughts about Malfoy had calmed a little, although she knew it was only temporary.
"Don't worry, Luna, it's just a myth," Hermione told her warmly. "Only female Honeybees die after they sting, and Hogwarts only keeps Bumblebees."
"Oh, that's good news," she mumbled, raising her head and trailing her lazy eyes over the other girl's features. "Your lips still look different, Hermione."
"No they don't," the hazel-eyed witch defended. "They are fine-
"But your hand is all healed," she continued absently. "Perhaps you've reacted to something else a little stronger."
That was the thing with Ravenclaw's angelic sweetheart; while her tone remained consistently bland, she would often mutter a seemingly innocent comment that would leave you feeling either enlightened or paranoid. It was definitely the latter in this case.
"I can't think of anything," Hermione replied stiffly. "Does it matter?"
"Only if it's bothering you," she shrugged, turning the page of her book. "Would you like to stay in the Ravenclaw Tower tonight? I know you don't like to be alone when it's windy."
It was a tempting offer. She'd been purposefully putting off returning to her dorm; to him, and here was the perfect opportunity to prolong that separation. This was where her Gryffindor courage became an impediment; stubbornly telling her that avoiding her own home was a cowardly option. Her commonsense also jumped in and reminded her that she would have to confront the situation eventually, and the longer she avoided it, the more she would lose face.
"No, it's okay," she sighed reluctantly. "I find it difficult to sleep in a different bed."
"Okay," Luna agreed blankly, slowly packing up her belongings. "Well, if you change your mind, I'm sure you'd be able to crack the riddle."
"Thanks. Do you want me to walk you back?"
"I prefer the walk alone," she replied, rising from her seat and giving the Gryffindor a long look. "I don't know what has made your lips look different, but it suites you, Hermione."
The older witch couldn't stifle the flinch. "You're imagining it," she replied with forced nonchalance, unable to feel a sliver impatience towards the girl as she turned to leave. That paranoia was back though. "Goodnight, Luna."
"Goodnight," she replied over her shoulder as she disappeared amongst the aisles.
Hermione pursed her lips and would swear she tongued a whisper of Malfoy's fruity taste as she did. Dear Merlin, this was hard. That barely-nothing-incident had turned her into a fumbling fool with dangerous thoughts that were too quick and wild to really grasp. The worst thing was, she had no idea if she would choose to eradicate it from her memory, or if all the confusion was worth the pleasant tingle inside her mouth. Had it even counted as a kiss?
"Oh, sod it," she whispered to herself, gathering her things and a couple of extra texts on Dark Magic and Horcruxes before she left the library.
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