Memoria Luxareo @tootytots1
Slytherin Golden Boy

Hermione pressed herself further into the alcove, studying the students milling about in front of her, the noise of various conversations drifting up and echoing around the large stone ceiling. She caught snippets here and there, mostly about classes and teachers, about boys and potions. She sighed, leaning back against the wall. He should have been there by now. She knew she shouldn't have expected Draco Malfoy to keep his word, regardless of a promise having been made.

She'd done exactly as he'd asked, not mentioning their adventures to a soul and turning up at the meeting point early so as not to incur the Slytherin's wrath by being so much as a second late. She'd risked been caught, lingering in the corridor like a fool expecting him to turn up. When an hour had finally rolled by it finally dawned on her how idiotic she had been to trust Draco Malfoy to any degree.

She pushed herself up onto her tiptoes, eyes searching the crowd. She was certain he'd turn up now though. Waltzing up to him while he was stood with his fellow Slytherins, had definitely raised a few eyebrows, and news of him meeting her at night had led to some serious questions been hissed in the blonde's general direction.

She smirked when she noticed a disgruntled Malfoy making his way toward the alcove, pushing students aside angrily.

"I hardly expected you to turn up," she mused when he shouldered his way into the alcove next to her.

"And I hardly expected to be this annoying, yay for us, we're both surprised," Draco bit out sarcastically "Now, you mind explaining what that little stunt was earlier?" He asked, pushing himself against the stone behind him, trying to avoid the vast expanse of her hair.

"You know exactly what that was about," Hermione whispered furiously, poking her finger into his chest. He tried to get further away, rubbing the spot she'd poked with a sneer.

"I have no idea what you are on about, Granger." His eyes widened in feigned innocence, making Hermione growl in frustration.

"We made plans, Malfoy. promised." Hermione gritted her teeth as the blonde raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms in front of him.

"I think you'll find I did no such thing, Granger."

Hermione's mouth fell open at the nerve of him.

"I should close that before someone mistakes it for a cave." Hermione shut her mouth quickly, poking Malfoy in the chest again.

"You know you agreed."

"Stop touching me touch me," he spat, pushing her hand away, "besides, so what if I "agreed", it's not binding, Granger. I can change my mind."

She hated the fact that he had a point, a selfish and annoying point, but a point none-the-less. Her mouth opened and closed with all the questions she wanted to ask but thought better of. Asking him why he didn't want to know the Sensieve's secrets would do little but insight his scorn and she'd had enough of that for a lifetime. But she couldn't understand it, how could he not want to know?

"You make a compelling argument," he drawled sarcastically, "now if that's all?"

"No that is not all. What are you so scared of?" Draco glared down at her, the flare of his nostrils telling her that she'd touched a nerve.

"I am not scared, Granger, I would just prefer not to spend any extra time with this." He gestured to her dismissively.

"You are scared, and you know it." she cocked head to the one side, stepping closer. "What happened the first time we fell in there?"

Malfoy looked away and Hermione watched him gulp heavily. "Nothing okay, Granger. You might be interested in the feelings of two dead people, but I'm not."

"I'll tell everyone, I'll tell all your little friends how scared you were of a bowl." She knew it wasn't much, nothing in fact and even as she said it she realised how much punch it lacked. It wasn't like Malfoy couldn't talk himself out of it.

Draco laughed harshly, "And I'll tell everyone, Miss Prude has a crush on the Ginger weasel, I think quite a few of my, "little friends" would be incredibly interested in that little snippet of information."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, wouldn't I?" She knew he would, in fact, she was surprised he hadn't yet given how much he loved to make her life a living hell.

"Look...let's not be hasty," she said quietly, lowering her head in shame. Losing an argument always sat uncomfortably with her, losing an argument to Draco Malfoy was unbearable.

"Well, well, well, the little Gryffindor's not so brave. Perhaps you're more of a Hufflepuff, emphasis on the puff."

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy, your retorts are juvenile." She crossed her arms turning back to him, her face imploring, "You know there's something in there, what if it's important?"

"Well then, I'm sure Potter will get around to it when he's stopped getting involved in everything else." Hermione scoffed at how pitifully jealous he sounded.

"Wouldn't you rather be the one to find it." That at least seemed to make him think, he paused, gazing down at her curiously.

"HERMIONE." Hermione turned, as Harry shouted her name, pushing past the few remaining students and heading towards where she stood. When she turned back, Malfoy was already stalking down the corridor, away from them. She sighed, shoulders slumping. Trying to get Malfoy to commit to anything felt like taking one step forward, straight over the edge of a cliff. At that moment she felt like she'd plummeted to the bottom and was gazing up at an impossible climb.

"You alright, Hermione?" Harry asked, watching Draco's retreating back with suspicion.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, waving off his concern and picking her bag up off the floor.

"You sure, it looked like the ferret was bothering you." Hermione chuckled half-heartedly.

"You know, nothing new. He just said I should keep moving, lest a bird mistake my hair for a nest. He needs new material." Harry agreed with a nod, glancing down the corridor one more time, before talking about Ron.

Hermione had not spoken to him since the Ball, his ignorance still hurting her whenever she saw him. Harry had tried to intervene on his behalf, attempting to bring the two together under the most tenuous of pretences. Hermione appreciated his attempts and the heart behind it, but she wanted to remain angry at Ron for a little longer. She tuned Harry out, her gaze wandering as her mind did the same. Her eyes widened as she spotted Malfoy, he'd stopped at the end of the corridor and was staring at her. She'd known him to sneer, to scoff, to glance at her with hatred and malice, but the look in his eyes was not something she recognised. It made her feel uncomfortable.

"You coming, Mione?" Harry asked, twisting to look at her in the alcove, still staring at the spot where Malfoy had been. She nodded quickly.

"Yeah." Lowering her head and quickly following her friend back to the common room, hoping that the Slytherin would change his mind, the thought of never seeing Mina's memories again, filled her with dread.

She couldn't believe she was doing it again, sneaking a peek around the corner, before pushing herself round it and tiptoeing towards the stairwell. She'd been doing the same thing for days, always having the best intentions; getting herself into bed, lying awake and willing herself asleep and almost immediately giving up because it was impossible. The pull of the Sensieve was palpable, like a gentle tug at her skin that made it tingle, growing in strength with every day that passed. The bond was getting stronger, just like the book had said and, even when it wasn't pulling at her, she could feel the magic. It sparked and shimmered in the air around her, making her feel warm. She sometimes wondered how other people didn't feel it, or in particular, how Malfoy couldn't seem to feel it.

Her steps faltered as she made her way to the shadowy depths of the stairs. There was a rope, it looped and knotted around a metal ring jutting out the stone wall and fell into the darkness. Hermione's heart hammered. Had someone else found their secret?

She felt possessive, jealous that someone else would be stepping where only she and Malfoy had been. The thought was absurd, and she tried to brush it away, but as she stepped forward, the feeling grew. She didn't want other people experiencing Mina and Edwards memories, she didn't want them to find the magical room, where the weather fell from the ceiling and popped in magical bursts when it hit her skin. She wanted it to be theirs, just or her and just for Malfoy.

She pushed forward bravely, trying to be as quiet as she possibly could. She noticed that there was a faint glow emanating from further down the stairs, realising with dread that the imposter managed to find the hidden compartment. Panicking, she stepped down, kneeling and glancing hesitantly into the hole below.

Her breath caught, as she took in the sight of Malfoy, his uniform was unusually unkempt, and his hair was sticking out at odd angles like he'd just got out of bed. He was staring at the carvings in frustration.

"Alohomora," he whispered harshly, and nothing happened.

"That doesn't work," Stated Hermione matter of factly, making her way down into the room, gripping the rope as she descended.

"Merlin, Granger," Draco shouted, clutching his chest, and jumping away in fright. Fright turned to instant annoyance. "What are you doing here?"

"I think I could ask you the same question," she shrugged, her feet finally touching the solid ground of the room. She smiled at the familiar grating noise of the steps moving back into place. When she looked down at her hand, she found that the rope she'd been holding had disappeared. "Hmmm, interesting."

"Yeah, well I asked first." He seemed uncomfortable, getting as far away from the Gryffindor as possible, wand gripped so hard in his hand, that his knuckles turned white.

Hermione shrugged, "It's the Sensieve, I feel drawn to it."

"You feel that too?" Draco eyes widened, his voice shaking, Hermione hardly knew what to say having never seen the Slytherin react with anything but disdain. As if realising his mistake, Draco fell back heavily against the wall, clearing his throat. The sound shocked Hermione out of her reverie, allowing her to find her voice.

"Yeah, I do. All the time. I feel it all around me, it's amazing isn't it," she breathed, glancing at him.

"Whatever, Granger." Whatever usually hidden part of Draco she had seen had, once again, been effectively muffled by the arsehole that he was.

"So, couldn't stay away? Wanted to try your luck at being the Golden boy for a change," she joked, her small mouth turning up slightly in amusement. The look Draco gave her could have killed and with a gulp, her smile fell away.

"Why would I want to be anything like Potter?" Draco began searching for a way out, a way out that didn't involve going past the infernal bowl, because of course Granger would somehow make sure they ended up back in it and that was something he couldn't allow. The bond already meant he didn't get much sleep, and when he wasn't thinking about Edward, or Mina, or the stupid white bowl, he was thinking about the bushy-haired Know-it-all, and that absolutely was not okay.

"Why do you hate, Harry so much?" She asked the room was already beginning to light up, the carvings coming to life. She noticed that it happened a lot quicker than last time.

Draco shrugged, "He's a goody two shoes, with annoying friends, what's not to hate?" Hermione gritted her teeth, touching the carving of the bowl and waiting for the doors to open.

"Plenty of people think he's a really nice guy you know," she gave him a side glance, noticing that he was again staring at her weirdly like she was a puzzle and he was confused by its general existence.

Draco scoffed, "Well obviously, I've misjudged him." Sarcasm dripped off each syllable and Hermione grit her teeth again, her jaw beginning to ache. She shook her head and stepped through the stone doors, her annoyance instantly forgotten at the sight of the green pillars.

It wasn't snowing but she could see her breath in the air.

"You want to know what I think?" she turned back to Draco, who was grumbling behind her.

"Nope, but I guarantee you're going to tell me anyway."

"I think you're jealous," Hermione threw it over her shoulder as her hand fell away from the glowing rune, and the white bowl once again rose from the floor.

"Oh really?" He smirked, crossing his arms, "and what, pray tell, would I be jealous of? Having you and Weasley as friends? Getting a constant update on your know-it-allness and Weasleys stupidity? You really are a mind reader, Granger, how did you see through me like that?"

Hermione stepped toward him, smirking. "I think you're jealous because no matter what you do, Harry will always be better."

She felt triumphant when his grey eyes met her coldly, his jaw clenching in anger. She'd touched a nerve, she could tell, a huge nerve. She'd always wondered what had spurned so much hatred within him, now she knew. He wanted to be Harry Potter, he wanted to be seen, to be noticed, he wanted to be the golden boy. The fact that he wasn't, the fact that he never would be, infuriated him.

"You know what? Shove this thing," Draco pointed violently at the Sensieve, "up your prissy little arse, that is if you can get it past the stick already wedged up there." He stormed past her, away from the Sensieve, away from her. Apart of her felt almost sorry for him, almost guilty. She knew what it was like to feel invisible, to feel like an extra in someone else's perfect existence. The thought shocked her into stillness, feeling sorry for Draco Malfoy was not something she was used to.

The silvery mist tumbled out the bowl in great plumes, filling the room with pearlescent fog. It engulfed her, wrapping her in the warmth of emotions and feelings. She closed her eyes and let them wash over her, other people's emotions, other people's feelings were better than feeling sorry for the ferret, much easier to understand.

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