Lessons in Observation
October, 1994
It was announced that on the night of the Halloween feast, names would be drawn out of the Goblet of Fire. One champion per school. Hermione hadn’t heard of any other Hogwarts students dropping their name in but she assumed that a few had. Everyone wanted to bring glory to their house. Viktor Krum was still all Ron ever talked about when the Durmstrang boys were out of earshot. He practically leapt out of his seat when Krum smiled at Hermione while they ate dinner one night.
“Did you see that? Did you–was he smiling at us?”
Ginny smirked. “I think he was looking at her.” She pointed at Hermione.
The blood rushed to her face. “What? What–do–you–mean?”
Ron looked crushed.
“He was smiling at you, Hermione. He’s been staring at you nonstop ever since you fainted in the corridor. He’s being far too obvious. I’m surprised you haven't noticed.”
Parvati, who was sitting to the right of Hermione giggled. She turned to her left and noticed Harry’s amused grin.
“Ouch–Mione!”
She had kicked his leg under the table.
“Stop acting like you agree with her.” She glanced at Ginny across the table. “Viktor Krum was not smiling at me.” She said it as though it were the most preposterous idea she had heard in her life. It might have been.
Ron looked as though he would surely explode in the next few moments. His face was red and he was eyeing the food on his plate and toying with it with his fork. He wore a scowl which did not go unnoticed by Hermione. He looked angry. She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong but before the first syllable left her lips, he had stood and began his walk toward the doors. She was taken aback. What did he have to be angry about? Hermione was the one having to endure this absurd conversation.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked.
Ginny smiled and shook her head. “Clueless!”
Hermione looked back down at her food. Surely Ginny was wrong–about all of it. No boy had ever liked her, she was sure of it. She had had crushes but they were all meaningless because the person would never like her back. She had accepted that dating was not in her immediate future. Especially not Viktor Krum who was at least three years older in age, or Ron who was her best friend. Ginny had gone too far this time. She didn't want to date Ron and she was positive that he didn't either. This kind of rumor could ruin the best friendship she had. What was Ginny thinking?
After a few minutes, she turned to Harry, hoping the object of their last conversation was forgotten. “I forgot to tell you after I fainted, Harry,” she said, “I spoke to Malfoy again and I think he’s actually up to something.”
She explained how Malfoy had been sneaking off to some part of Hogwarts after curfew when she was pretending to look for her cat. She had completely forgotten to bring it up after her birthday and just remembered.
“Where could he be going?” Harry asked.
“That's what I was going to find out. I want to follow him.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “That's risky. If he sees you–”
“What? You think he’d curse me? I don’t think he has the guts for that.”
“It’s Malfoy, Hermione.”
“So you think I shouldnt figure out where he’s going just because he’ll use a spell on me? What happened to ‘he’s a future death eater. He’ll kill us all!’?”
“Ron said that. I agreed with you that day.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“I just don’t think it’s safe–I don’t think he’s safe.”
She sighed. “That makes no sense! If he’s not safe, we should be finding out what he’s up to and you know it.”
“Please, Mione. Just promise.”
She looked into his pleading eyes. His soft expression told her that he simply didn't want her to get hurt. She sighed.
“Fine. I promise I won’t follow him.”
But she had only said it to satisfy him.
A few days later when Malfoy left dinner early, Hermione took her chance. There would be very few people in the corridors and it was the perfect chance for Malfoy to sneak off to wherever he did. She told Harry who was next to her that she had to use the restroom and he only nodded and went back to his conversation with Ginny. She spotted Malfoy far down the hall and she had to speed up her pace to catch up. She almost tripped over her own feet right before he turned left. Her heartbeat grew faster as she attempted to keep up with his long strides while also keeping a large enough distance between them. It felt like she was on the verge of a heart attack for the entire ten minutes that she followed behind him. Finally, he turned to the stairs to the astronomy tower. Hm. What could he want with that? He never seemed very interested in the class.
She waited for him to get halfway up the stairs before she started heading up on her own. Once she reached the top, she found him standing in front of the metal rail of the balcony which opened up to the grounds of Hogwarts. You could see the entire courtyard and, of course, the night sky which is what the tower was used for. Hermione hid behind the doorway and peeked her eyes around the corner. Malfoy was staring past the courtyard and below the sky, at the forest. The Forbidden Forest to be specific. He was just gazing from what Hermione could tell. She couldn't see his face or the undeniable scowl which most likely rested upon it. She just saw him watching. He looked normal. Not like a snobby, classist pig. Then she thought back to her psychology book. She hadn't gotten around to starting Chapter Three: How Magic Shapes Wizard Emotions, so she thought about chapter two which was about the dark arts. Wizard psychology was much different from muggle psychology which Hermione found interesting. Muggle and wizard brains were virtually the same. It was just the adding of magic which made their behaviors and habits so different from muggles. Magic could truly shape the brain, Hermione had learned, dark and light. She looked for any behavioral signs in Draco’s body language that may convey a hint of dark magic use. She knew that she was not qualified to observe any wizard or determine if they had been affected by dark magic but it didn't hurt to try. She checked if his shoulders were relaxed or tense. Tense. Dark magic can cause stress to the body and mind, but so did a lot of things. His arms were not crossed, which was a sign of anger. Dark magic could cause unwarranted bursts of fury and constant tension. She wondered if she should read the chapter again. Maybe she hadn't been paying close enough attention. But, then again, a wizard psychologist must have to be trained rigorously to spot these kinds of signs and make sense of them all as a whole. She needed to read that next chapter and then the next and then the next. She suddenly needed to know everything. Why was Malfoy so tense if he most likely wasn't using dark magic? Why was he so uncivil? Why did he believe his parents when they told him that muggles were the scum of the Earth? Why did anyone believe their parents so unwaveringly? She wanted to know it all. She would read tonight, and plan more excuses to speak to Malfoy.
He was still gazing out at the forest after ten minutes and Hermione decided he wasn't up to anything tonight. She could leave. She really just wanted to read.
She returned to the dining hall, telling Harry that she’d stopped by the library to pick up a book for tonight.
“Well, where is it?” he asked, skeptically.
She froze. She hadn't brought her bag to dinner. “I–um–I–brought it up to the common room so I didn’t have to lug it all the way here,” she stuttered. Bad lie, Hermione. Bad lie.
He bought it, nodding his head, eyes still narrowed.
She opened her book to chapter three that night.
“What is an emotion? How do our emotions influence the way in which we act and think? How do they affect our magic? How does our magic affect them? Emotions are not directly impacted by the spells we cast, however…”
She fell asleep a few pages into the book and found it discarded on the floor when she woke up the next morning.
Over the course of the next week, she found herself silently studying Malfoy in all of her classes (except potions) and at meals. She would watch his hands for signs of dark magic Chapter three explained how our emotions and intentions directly translate into our body language. Her first note was that his hands were usually in a closed off position. He never used them to articulate what he was saying, and when he was sitting, his hands remained together and never spread far apart from each other. This showed unfriendliness or anxiety according to the book. She was confused about the latter. What did Draco Malfoy have to worry about? He was a pure-blood male wizard and the soul Malfoy heir. He was rich and arrogant. She also found that his hands liked to fidget about. Another sign of nervousness. She didn't think they were hand spasms because those usually only lasted a second or two. His fidgeting was nonstop, especially in class when the teacher was talking and he didn't have anything else to do with his hands. So, he was nervous, she decided. But about what? She needed to speak with Harry.
“Psychology? Shouldn't you be focused on all of your other classes?” he asked her in the common room when she told him about her endeavors.
She sighed. “You're not getting the point. He’s worried about something! When has Malfoy ever been concerned with something other than himself or tormenting others? This proves that he knows something about you-know-who.”
“This could have no correlation with Voldemort, Mione. You're pulling at straws because you're scared, I get that, but I don't want this to be something you–obsess–over if it ends up distracting you from more important things.”
“Harry, finding out what you-know-who is planning is more important than my school work. It can wait. I think I'm really on to something.”
“What happened to not following Draco?” he asked. “Didn't you promise?”
She was silent for a moment.
Then she said, “You know what? You can't decide when something is too dangerous for me to take on. You try to do everything by yourself, and then Ron and I have to beg to come and help you. You think that I’m so incapable of doing anything alone–”
“That's not what I said, Mione–”
“And then you go off and think you can fight dark wizards without any help. This is nothing, Harry. I’m observing. I’ve barely said a word to him. I'm being safe.” She paused and looked down at her lap for a second before letting out a breath. “And I don't need your permission.”
He knew he couldn't argue with that so he didn't. He was silent and she felt a pang of regret. She loved Harry but she was speaking from the heart. He thought he could do anything and turned down help from others to protect them but when Hermione tried to do something, he shut her down, and she let him. Not anymore, she thought. She believed in this lead she had with Malfoy. She wanted to see it through so she would.
In the following days, Harry didn't speak to Hermione unless she started the conversation, and even then, he was careful with his words. It was as if he thought she might explode if he said the wrong thing. It drove her mad. She told him again and again that she wasn't angry with him but he continued to tiptoe around her until she accepted it and let him. She talked to Ron instead, and watched Draco.
Four days after she followed Malfoy to the astronomy tower, he got up from dinner early and went again. Then again the next day, and then again two days later. She watched him and studied his movements until there was nothing else she could think of to do, and she left. She found herself intrigued by his every movement as she took what she’d learned from her book the night before and applied it. She only learned small, surface level things about him though. Obviously speaking was the best way to reveal all of those hidden little things about a person but she had yet to approach him again. She just enjoyed observing for now, learning things that she could use when she spoke to him.
One night on the astronomy tower, he pulled a book and his wand from his robes. With a careful flick of his wand and a short incantation, he de-transfigured the book into its true form. It was another book, but a darker one. The title was Secrets of the Darkest Art. She quietly sighed. That's what he was getting from the restricted section.
He still had nights where he would just stare out at the forest or the sky and observe them whilst she observed him, but he mostly sat down and read. One night when he was reading, his head tilted to the side and his breathing slowed. He had fallen asleep. Hermione was about to get up and call it a night but paused when she saw his face. It was different. Softer. He had an expression of peace which she had never seen before. He didn't look angry or tense, he was just a teenage boy with nothing troubling him. She took note of this face and then left.
She also watched his friends talk to him in class and found that big hand gestures while speaking made him flinch and get annoyed easily. It was all over his face when he was angry so she found out what made him angry. When his friends sat too close to him, he rolled his eyes. When they touched him, he recoiled. All very snobby things, she thought. She wasn't exactly sure what the combination of all of these things together meant but they gave her an idea of how to get close to him. She jotted down everything he did in a small notebook she brought from the muggle world and kept it hidden in a box beneath her bed.
She didn't tell Harry about the book or the astronomy tower. She knew there was no point now that Harry had decided following Draco was too dangerous.
The night she followed him for the sixth time in two weeks, she grew frustrated. He hadn't done anything but read about the dark arts, but she still felt the need to watch him. She felt as though the night she didn't would be the one where he did something terrible. It was like he had become her responsibility. If he did anything, it was on her too because she was supposed to be watching, even though no one but Harry knew she was watching. She needed a breakthrough, something to tell her that any of it had been worth her time.
Twas the night before Halloween, the night before the names were to be drawn for the Triwizard Tournament, and the dining hall was buzzing with excitement. No one knew who would be picked or what any of the events would be so the Gryffendor table was full of predictions. Dumbledore really knew how to build suspense. Amongst all of the chaos and chatting with Ginny, Hermione had taken her eye off of Draco. She looked back at his table to find him gone. Shit, she thought. She sprang up without telling anyone where she was headed and rushed out of the Great Hall. She walked at a normal pace toward the astronomy tower, trying not to draw attention to herself. She arrived at the top of the steps to find it empty. Malfoy was somewhere else, perhaps in the library getting another–
She heard a throat clearing behind her and practically shrieked as she sharply turned around, covering her mouth. Malfoy was standing right behind her with a hostile scowl upon his face. Her eyes widened.
“What are you doing here?” he asked with a snarl.
Think, think, think.
“I come here to read,” she blurted out.
His eyes narrowed.
“And what are you doing here?” she asked, regaining her breath.
He scoffed. “Leaving,” he said and turned around to go back down the stairs.
Grasping at straws, she grabbed his arm. “Wait!”
He turned back and gave the dirtiest look Hermione had ever seen. One full of pure hatred and loathing.
“Don't–touch–me,” he spat, wrenching his arm from her.
She wondered what was wrong. He usually wasn't so hostile even when Hermione was present.
“I just meant to say–you can have the tower–I’ll leave–”
For a moment, his expression flickered, before he returned to his ice-cold glare. He turned and walked down the stairs without another word.
Hermione’s heart was speeding up. This was not the plan. How was she supposed to get him to give her information if he hated her and all she did was make it worse? She went and sat down on the balcony of the astronomy tower where Draco usually was and stared up at the stars. It was nice. She understood why he would go there to unwind–and learn about dark magic, apparently. She wondered about that part. Was he really training to be a death eater?
Hermione was quiet the next morning. She had failed her self proclaimed mission before it even began. She would never get information from Malfoy and she would never help them stop the death eaters from hurting muggles and half-bloods. She would always just be the chosen one’s friend, never contributing anything, never doing anything but following Harry around. She snapped out of it after a while. It was a rather gloomy way to go through her day, and there were more exciting things to think about. Dumbledore would draw names for the triwizard tournament tonight and the competition would officially begin. She was in potions when her bad mood wore off because of all the tournament-talk. She spoke giddily with Parvati about the older Gryffendors who had put their names into the Goblet. Hermione was rather out of the loop after all of her time spent observing Malfoy so she was surprised to find out how many more Hogwarts students had entered. Parvati explained most of it until Snape bursted into the room and everyone quieted.
Hermione looked forward and found Malfoy staring at her already, a contemplative yet hard look on his face. His gaze lingered for a few seconds before he turned to face Snape who had started his lesson. Hermione shivered. Was he really that angry that she had stolen his reading spot?
When she arrived in charms class, she pulled her quill out of her bag to find a piece of parchment loosely wrapped around it. She unraveled the parchment slightly confused but still nonchalant. It was a note.
“Meet me at the astronomy tower before they draw names. -M”
She quickly crumpled the note so no one around her saw it. It didn't have a name but the meeting location and first initial gave her all the clues she needed. This could go very, very bad. He could hex her! Or it could go very, very good. Maybe it was like a second chance. Even if he was angry, they would be talking. Maybe her mission was not a failure.
Lunch was extremely loud that day but Hermione didn't have trouble drowning out the noise. She was deep in thought about everything she’d learned from her book.
“Mione! Mione!” Ginny shouted over the swarm of voices. “Merlin, it's loud!”
Hermione looked up and gave her attention to the youngest Weasley.
“I heard a rumor–and I know you’ll get mad–but I just–I–thought–I–should–tell–you,” she rushed out.
Hermione sighed. “What is it?”
“One of those older Hufflepuff girls said that her friend overheard Krum’s mates talking about how Krum told them he’s going to ask you to the Yule ball.” Ginny smiled brightly.
“The Yule Ball is in two months, Gin, and I wouldn't trust a rumor that goes through that many people.”
“But it’s true, Mione!”
“Sure,” she laughed, “And Leonardo DiCaprio has invited me to be his plus one at the Golden Globes!”
Ginny’s smile dropped. “I don’t know what any of those words mean.”
Hermione had forgotten that Ginny didn't know anything about muggles. She just laughed and Ginny looked even more confused.
By dinner time, Hermione felt ready to be yelled at or hexed or called a mudblood (which she was never entirely ready for). She was going to miss the drawing of the names. It didn't matter that much but she wished she could have joined in on the applause and yelling for whichever Hogwarts student was chosen. Instead, she would have to find out from Ginny or Ron when they got back to the common room.
She watched Draco for the entire dinner but he never once looked back at her. Finally, he stood up and she followed suit, making up an excuse that she had forgotten to feed Crookshanks today and that it was urgent. As she exited the room, she mentally thanked her cat for providing all of her excuses in the past two months. She arrived at the stairs of the astronomy tower and let out a quick breath before climbing them. Malfoy was waiting in his usual spot, looking out at the grounds. His hands were at his sides and his posture straight. She couldn't get a read on him. His body language didn't reveal anything about his mood but at least his arms were not crossed. She silently walked over and stood beside him, waiting for him to speak. After a few seconds, she felt his gaze on her but refused to look up at him.
“So you read here?” he finally asked.
“Yes.”
“And you do that often?”
“Yes.”
“Merlin, Granger. Look at me. Ever learn manners?”
She looked up into his cold, grayish eyes with a neutral expression. He didn't look angry, but not very friendly either.
“I’ve never seen you up here,” he spoke again. “Until last night.”
“Well, I’ve never seen you either,” she lied.
“I just wanted to make sure,” he said, gazing back in front of him at the grounds.
“Why? What kind of things do you do up here?”
He gave her a look and smirked. “Why do you Gryffindors always think we're up to no good?” he asked.
“Because, usually, you are.”
He chuckled. “I come up here because it seems like the only quiet place left at this Godforsaken school.”
And to practice your dark magic, she thought.
“This tournament has really given me a headache. So don't go running to Dumbledore with your little bravery-act, saying you've caught me doing something illegal.”
That's why he was being civil with her. He thought she had something against him. He thought he was going to get tattled on so he’s being nice and giving her reasons not to. She could use this to her advantage. She just had to say the exact right thing. She thought for a moment, still looking at the side profile of his tense expression.
“Something like–learning dark spells?” she asked.
His jaw clenched, but other than that, he had no reaction.
“What d’you mean?” he asked in a low voice.
“I'm not going to tell anyone, Malfoy–”
“I thought you hadn't seen me up here.”
She looked down at the grounds, trying to stop her hands from shaking. In a steady voice, she said, “I saw you once–with that book of yours. Not very smart to read something like that in plain sight.”
He scoffed. “You're gonna tell, aren't you?”
He was freaking out, and although he didn't show it, she could tell. She could see his hands balled into tight fists out of the corner of her eye.
“Night, Malfoy.” She turned with a small smile and he didn't stop her. He stayed staring out at the grounds.