Chapter 44
Chapter 44:
Hermione made her way back to the Castle the next morning after spending a night with Matthew. It really was all unexpected and as she walked slowly in the fresh air the lyrics of a muggle song sprung to mind, “It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do.”
Up until that point, Hermione wouldn’t have described herself as foolish or full of desire, but after a wonderfully quaint dinner date with Matthew they ended up at his flat where he was meant to show her his collection of pressed herbs on the account her grandmother was an accomplishment herbologist. At some point, Hermione began to feel the tingle of the wine they drunk and the wonderfully attractive Matthew became irresistible, and she was so desperate in that moment for a touch that she initiated the whole thing. And who was he to complain? He obliged her, more than once she must admit, but in the morning when she woke up the emptiness of her indiscretion filled her with dread.
She had wanted it, she had wanted him to touch her and feel his weight on her, and hear him whisper her name in an unearned adoration, but she didn’t get what she wanted.
Hermione contemplated her now shifting views on what she needed. She felt lost even when she had small purposes. She found purpose in her work, her research, even the little mystery of the gift giver, but in a greater sense, she felt no purpose. Moreover, she felt alone in her purposelessness. That’s why throughout Matthew, she felt drawn to this handsome stranger onto whom she projected her aimless search. Like he might be the puzzle piece missing from the equation.
Hermione didn’t have to keep thinking too long before she imposed upon but round cheers to look at the far left where the temporary Quidditch practice field was erected while the old one was being brought up to snuff. The green of the uniform told her that this was the Slytherin team and they were so loud she thought something might be amiss but she wasn’t in the mood to be Professor Granger this fine Saturday morning. She was spared investigating when a rather cutting figure a head taller than the rest emerged wand out and voice cutting through the fray.
There was no mistaking the figure as it moved closer in her direction and there was nowhere to hide as she locked eyes with one Draco Malfoy. Since when did Malfoy coach Quidditch? His look was penetrating, his gaze was through, she can see even from the distance his eyes moving to examine her and within a few seconds those gray eyes lit with understanding, in that moment regardless of how it all felt a few seconds ago Hermione wasn’t going to let him see her falter. She wasn’t ashamed. Hermione swore she saw a flash of anger on his features before he turned away and billowed again at the seeker of the team, the source of the ruckus it would appear.
Hermione kept her head high as she made her way to her rooms, she felt like she wanted to crawl out of her skin and at the same time she was full of rage, how dare he judge her when he’s probably make a worse choice. Also, how did he figure it out so quickly, she looked in the mirror and she looked just fine thank you, there was no way. Did she imagine all of it? Was she once again projecting her feelings onto the closest living object? Hermione needed to escape, she took a very long very hot shower and found her way to the room of requirement, brought the fire to a roar and conjured a stack of books she’d been neglecting, and began reading at a pace close to inhuman, she needed every escape each of the books offered.