Conflicting Emotions

Chapter Three - Consequences and Truths

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Hermione and Ginny sat in the library, helping each other with their homework. Rather, more accurately, Hermione was silently checking over Ginny's potions report, while the youngest Weasley searched through their books to find some reference to Mathilde Rice, and her influence on wizarding education in the 1600s, as needed by Hermione in yet another History of Magic essay.

Finally, Ginny found a reference to the woman, who looked rather intimidating, judging from the portrait of her that graced the page, scowling up at the girl. "Ugh. She looks like a pleasant sort. Let's see. Headmistress at Hogwarts from 1634 to 1655. Wrought unprecedented changes... creative punishments... teacher assignments... Yeah, this looks like what you want," she said, before sliding the open textbook over to the other girl. Hermione nodded, and finished reading over the report.

"This is perfect. Can't find anything wrong," she said, handing it back with a smile, and immediately glancing down at the textbook. "Oh, this will help, thanks."

Ginny nodded, glancing over her report once more, before tucking it back in her bag, beside her potions textbook. However, instead of pulling some other piece of work out, she leaned forward, elbows on the table, and glanced at Hermione, who was furiously taking notes. She watched her for a moment, before speaking up.

"Hermione?"

"Mmm?" the seventh-year replied absently, although there was a resigned sigh and a bit of weariness evident in her voice.

"Well, you have noticed that Ron's been-" Ginny wasn't entirely sure how to breach the topic, but she was interrupted rather quickly.

"So now we're talking about Ron, are we?" Hermione snapped, having glanced up, her notes forgotten for the moment.

"Wha-" Ginny was more than a little startled at the other girl's reaction, but recovered quickly. "No- I mean, well, yes, but don't you think you ought to go talk to him?"

"And why should I do that?" Hermione had gone back to her work with a sigh.

"He's been moping around for the last week, snapping at everyone, surely you've noticed," Ginny said, noting with little amusement that that was an accurate description of Hermione's mood, too.

"I've been busy, but not that busy, Ginny. Of course I've noticed. I hardly think it's fair, though. I didn't realise I did anything, yet all of a sudden I snubbed him in front of the school. Seems like it, anyway." Hermione replied testily.

Ginny paused for a moment, trying to work out how to go about this civilly. She recognised the Hermione's mood, and sympathised with her, but was determined to sort this out - among other things, a moping Ron certainly didn't make her life very pleasant. "I know, Hermione. I know. He's overreacting. He does that a lot, you know. But maybe if you just talked to him..."

"We'll end up arguing, Ginny. We always do."

"I don't know, but I want you two made up by the weekend." Ginny said, impatient herself. It was Thursday. "Things are difficult, having both my friend and my brother in continual bad moods. I know you have a lot of work to do, but I'm sure you'll both manage to do it a lot better when you're not deliberately avoiding each other."

Hermione sighed, before glancing up at the younger girl and smiling. She had a way out of everything, even if it was bullying, blackmailing and pushing other people into doing things for her. "Alright, Ginny," she said tiredly. "I'll try."

"Thank you." Ginny said, slightly smugly, with a smile of her own, before reaching down into her bag and fishing out her The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 6) by Miranda Goshawk.

Hermione was leaving Transfiguration the next day, when she spotted Harry and Ron heading off, presumably up to the Gryffindor Common Room. Her first thought was to turn and walk the other way, but remembering Ginny's words, she sighed, and hurried to catch up to them.

"Harry, Ron," she said, slowing back down to a walk beside them. Harry smiled, and replied with a pleasant "Hermione". Ron looked very surprised to see her, for a moment, nodding stiffly as a barrier went up, before he hunched his shoulders and otherwise ignored her.

"Look, Ron. I-" Hermione hesitated, trying to work out how she should apologise. Probably best not to mention Ginny. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry about the other day. I didn't mean to... uh," now she was stuck. She wasn't even sure what she did, exactly. But she was saved from continuing as Ron jumped in.

"You bloody ran off, Hermione. And when you looked back at us, you look like we'd... I dunno, hurt you or something." Hurt was a very mild word for the situation, but Ron wasn't exactly the most eloquent with language. Especially not when he was angry. And he was leaving out some of what happened, but he didn't feel like he could articulate that, either, considering the blush that rose up on his cheeks. Harry wisely remained silent.

"I'm sorry. I was thinking of... other things. It's hard to explain. I just... you two are really special to me, and I'd hate to have anything come between us." Hermione couldn't possibly explain her feelings that day, and hoped that her vague explanation was enough.

Ron glanced at her, a little suspiciously, but nodded. Then, after a long pause, struggling with himself, he gave in. "I know you didn't mean it, Hermione. I'm just being... stupid."

Hermione smiled at him, for the first time since that evening, and all three knew that things were mended between them, at least for the time being. Their path had indeed carried them up to the Gryffindor common room, and shrugging, Hermione hefted her books onto her hip, and followed them inside. She hadn't been in here in a while, and all the background chatter and laughter was nice, she admitted. Besides, she'd caught up with most of her homework - they had the weekend ahead of them, and she was no longer irritated with her best friends. It was a good feeling, one that didn't exactly make her want to sit down with her books again, as attractive as the idea of getting all her homework done before the weekend was. And so she deposited the books near the entrance and flopped down in one of the soft, red chairs by the fire.

Soon after she sat down, Liam Young and his good friend Will Arkin, both third-years, and the leaders of that troublemaking bunch, climbed through the entrance, carrying armfuls of food 'borrowed' from the kitchens. With wide grins, failing to notice the Head Girl in the room, the two deposited the food on the tables, before racing up to their dorms to collect something else. Ron and Harry, who had joined Hermione by the fire, glanced warily at her - the prefects this time around were fairly lax, and Friday evenings were usually quite lively affairs in the Gryffindor common room, something they were sure Hermione and any of the teachers would disapprove of. Hermione frowned, disapprovingly, but didn't get up. She could let it slide, just this once - she was in a rare good mood right now, and didn't care to spoil it by scolding someone. She'd just have to remember to make a visit next Friday.

Instead, she turned back to Harry and Ron. "How are you going with your homework?" she queried mildly, but couldn't help but smile smugly at the dismayed look on both their faces. Harry groaned.

"How is it humanly possible to keep up with all the work they throw at us!?" Ron asked her after a moment of making strange faces. Her smile was still smug, as she replied, "Oh, I'm up to date, everything except what we were given today."

"Are you serious?" Harry said, incredulous. "I'm at least a week behind."

Ron nodded. "Me too, if not more than that. I don't think we could catch up if we worked straight through the weekend, nevermind stopping to sleep or eat."

"And that's not to mention Quidditch practice," Harry added.

Hermione couldn't help but giggle. "We're barely a month into school and you two are that far behind already? How are you going to cope closer to exams?" she scolded, though the expression on her face was still pleasant. Spending time with those two made her feel so much better, although she was still slightly wary, after that strange mood that plagued her last week.

Ron sighed. "We don't know. Without you bugging us, we seem to be falling even further behind than we normally do."

Hermione smiled benevolently. "I would have thought you two would have learned how to study by now."

"Clearly not," Harry grimaced. "But you hardly seem very... well, you've seemed really quite stressed since the start of school."

She wasn't expecting that to come up, maybe because Harry had already mentioned it, and so she shrugged mildly. She was in a pleasant mood now, but the almost constant weariness that seemed to plague her wasn't far below the surface. "I dunno. It's hard keeping up with all the homework. I think I've just run out of reserves after last year's madness. And worrying about how you two were doing over the holidays... it's all a bit tough. But I'm coping. Better than you two, at least."

The boys nodded, Harry looked a little doubtful, until the last sentence, when they both chuckled. If only one thing was true, it would be that Hermione was ahead of Ron and Harry in their homework.

"Anyway, let's enjoy ourselves this evening, despite the horrendous amounts of homework you two have outstanding. I expect to see you two working solidly over the weekend," she said. "If not, I do have the power to dock house points, you know."

They seemed quite amiable to that agreement, even the working bit, pleased to have Hermione around. Right up until the removal of house points. "You wouldn't!" Ron gaped. Harry looked equally gobsmacked.

Hermione grinned at them, saying nothing for a moment, enjoying their expressions, before laughing. "Of course I wouldn't. You would deserve it, though."

Harry's expression collapsed into a grin, and Ron's soon after, although he still glanced at her with a little bit of distrust. She smiled sweetly at him, then stood up, going over to the tables to take a bit of the food obtained by Liam and Will for herself.

"She's gone bloody mad," Ron muttered to Harry, before the two joined her in snacking, and observing the various things that people were entertaining themselves with that afternoon.

"Before you go, I'd like two feet on Larry Dartham's work with dragons in 1376 to 1386, and an additional foot on the laws he put into place. Class dismissed," Binns droned happily, before turning and gliding out through the wall. He had assigned them their fifth lengthy essay in as many weeks, and the class seemed to jolt awake, hurriedly repacking their notes back into their bags and hurrying out of the classroom.

Hermione was one of the last to leave, looking frantically at her half-completed notes. Normally, she didn't have a problem with keeping notes in History of Magic, but today she had been distracted. She might have enough to scrape by writing the two feet on Dartham's work with dragons, but on the laws? She didn't know how she'd manage that. Normally, she made sure she wrote a good foot longer than was required, just to be safe, but for this essay looked near impossible to do that. Damn it. She didn't know what she was going to do.

Sighing, Hermione dumped the last of her books in her bag, and hoisted it up onto her shoulder. History of Magic had been their first class of that Monday morning, and they had Charms next. To her slight surprise, Ron and Harry had waited for her outside the classroom. She gave them a weary smile, before all three of them made their way in the right direction.

Ron was the first to speak. "Well. Another essay from Binns." he commented dryly, although Hermione didn't miss his slight glance towards her. She was rather surprised at his tact, although his next sentence made her regret ever thinking that sentence. Apparently, neither Harry nor Hermione replied quickly enough, as he continued. "Hermione, you can come up and lend us your notes this evening. We'll work on it together - you'll have to correct ours and stuff." Harry seemed to realise that was a bit presumptuous, glancing at Hermione warily, but Ron didn't appear to notice at all.

Hermione was not in a good mood, especially not after missing notes in History of Magic, and she scowled to herself. They shouldn't assume that'd she'd be available. Nor willing to lend her notes. Nor willing to correct their essays. Or anything else, damn it. She smiled sarcastically at the redhead, before replying. "Oh, I can, can I?" Her voice was beginning to sound dangerous, but still Ron didn't notice, smiling widely at his friends.

"Oh, yeah. Definitely. Look, maybe you can help us with our potions ess-" he didn't even get to finish, because Hermione interrupted, furious now. Harry facepalmed.

[A/N: Sorry. I had to put that in there. I am of the belief that there's no better description for that action than facepalming. ;)]

"Ronald Weasley! How dare you presume that I have no purpose in life but to help you with your damn homework," she hissed. "One. I have a meeting tonight, so I cannot come even if I were obliged to pass all your classes for you. Two. I don't have complete notes on this topic, so you'll just have to write the essays yourselves. Three. I don't have the time to correct them. Your grades should be much lower than they are, but I've been benevolent and helped you. You never would have finished those essays over the weekend if I hadn't helped you. But no more. You clearly don't appreciate my help, so I'll just have to take it away. Don't expect me to do it again." And with that, she hurried forward, and away from the other two.

Damn them. They were so bloody infuriating, sometimes. Just when she thought everything was fine, between them, they had to go do something like this. Homework was plenty to be dealing with, right now, but these last two weeks had been even more difficult. Why? Because she'd been spending more time with the two boys. Damn them. As much as she missed them, sometimes, they were nothing but trouble. Her reclusive habits of the first three weeks would just have to be reinstated.

Ron just stared after her, before swallowing. "Harry," he started, helplessly, but the other boy shook his head.

"You got yourself into that one, Ron. You should have seen it coming," Harry sighed, smiling mirthlessly, before the two of them continued wordlessly up a staircase.

Their next class was an ordinary one - they had begun the somewhat difficult Truthsayer Charms a few days prior, beginning with theory, and now using them in practice. It wasn't as powerful as Veritaserum, but instead was a subtler spell to prevent all but the most innocent lies being told. It didn't do anything to prevent telling partial-truths, or just not answering at all, however. Hermione was paired with Seamus, and although she found it disconcerting to be almost revealing some close-kept secrets to the other Gryffindor, and hearing some of his own, it was better than working with Ron or Harry, at this point. It made for a most interesting lesson, but Flitwick wasn't pleased by their progress.

"You haven't been practicing, like I told you to!" he squeaked at them. "I want considerable improvement. If you can't produce a somewhat decent Charm by tomorrow, you'll lose house points! Or maybe I'll even hand out detention!"

The class was surprised - normally Flitwick was somewhat easygoing with punishments and such, but as of late, almost all of their teachers were expecting very impressive things of them, and were most irritated if they couldn't perform. "These are your NEWTs!" They had been told an infinite number of times, usually just before being loaded with an additional pile of homework. And detention. Well. Detention was becoming a much worse punishment than it was usually - apart from the horrible things they actually were required to do, the valuable time that detention took up cut deeply into the time they had to do homework. More than a couple days detention was enough to put even the hardest working seventh-year back at least a week, if not more. And those who were already behind... well, let's just say the resulting punishments from the late homework would mean they'd have almost no chance of catching up.

Flitwick dismissed the class, again reminding them to practice before their next lesson as they filed out. Hermione didn't really care to talk to Harry or Ron, and so made her way to her common room without stopping.

She was surprised to see Zabini there - she had gone directly there after class, but evidently he walked faster than her, for he was in her Charms class, too. With a sigh, she settled her books on the study table, and stretched. Then, with a determined air, she sat down, and began to tackle that day's homework. Unfortunately, her determination didn't last long, and only half a foot into a Transfiguration essay on the theory of mammal transfiguration, she found herself thinking about other things. Or other people, more accurately.

Zabini. She was finding she'd manage to stop thinking about him for some length of time, but after no more than a week, he'd always manage to get back into her thoughts soon enough. Like that week where Ron had been furious with her - she'd barely thought of the dark Slytherin then. But now, this week had begun with another brilliant argument with Ron, proving that making up with him was hardly any use at all. However, just recently, Zabini had been creeping back into her thoughts, like water manages to seep through every little crevice.

With a sigh, willing herself to remain calm and not get frustrated, she glanced up at Zabini, who was working on that day's History of Magic essay.

"Zabini, did you manage to get notes in History of Magic?" she queried lightly, trying to make it sound like a normal question.

Zabini glanced up, a little surprised. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. Of course."

"You don't mind if I... borrow them, do you? I couldn't concentrate, today," she said, by way of excuse, feeling bad since she just denied her own friends the very same favor. She had a reason, though, she told herself. But all her internal debate didn't matter, because Zabini was already nodding and handing them towards her.

"Thanks," she said with a smile, taking them and quickly filling in the blanks in her own notes. A second glance over, and then she handed them back.

"No problem, Granger." Zabini said, glancing up at her again to take the notes back, glancing at them once more before finishing one of his paragraphs with a flourish of his quill. "Most people don't get notes from that class at all. And then they expect others to lend them every time there's an essay," he continued, conversationally.

"Oh, I know. Both Ron and Harry never do anything as far as note taking. I think they gave up around second week first-year. And I always end up correcting their essays, too. It's a wonder they've managed to pass their exams in previous years," she said with a sigh.

Zabini nodded sympathetically. "Tell me about it," he seemed to have stopped writing, and Hermione realised she wasn't, either. "Theo's the same. At least they don't have as much problem with the practical side of classes."

Theo. That'd be Theodore Nott. Hermione bobbed her head in a light nod. "Speaking of practical sides, Zabini... how are you going with that Truthsayer Charm?"

Zabini shrugged. "So-so. I ought to practice it more. I don't really care for a detention, not with all this work to be doing," he waved a hand in the direction of his pile of books.

Hermione smiled. "Yeah. Mine's pretty good, but I think I should polish it up a bit. Just in case."

Zabini nodded, then glanced to the middle of the room, and the comfortable chairs around the fireplace. "We could go practice now, if you're not in the middle of that essay," he suggested, and Hermione glanced down at it, before shaking her head.

"Nope, I'll finish it later." Hermione put her quill down, stood up, pushed her chair in, and made her way across the room to flop down in one of the chairs. Zabini followed her, and took the end of the couch opposite her.

"Alright," Hermione said, pulling out her wand. "Veridicus," she muttered, tilting her wand towards Zabini. It appeared as if nothing happened, but for a light wind rustled past Zabini's hair. The spell was a subtle one, and it was often used without the knowledge of the other person - if they knew they were under it, it was much easier to avoid. But it took a skilled hand to avoid sending gale force wind past the other person's face.

Hermione smiled. "Okay. Let's test. What's your name?"

"Blaise Zabini," the Slytherin said, shifting slightly, to get more comfortable.

The girl paused, thinking, before a slight smile quirked on her lips. "What do you think of Draco Malfoy, Zabini?"

Zabini's eyes widened at this question, pausing a moment as he resisted answering truthfully, before giving in as he remembered it was to test the spells. There would be no point simply not answering if the point of their exercise was to determine if they were effective. "Draco. Well, he's a little immature, a bit dependent on his Father's name, and a little too obsessed with hating Potter. But otherwise, he's very bright, and he's quite skilled at getting what he wants."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. She realised it was unlikely for two Slytherins of the same year to dislike each other, so his half-half opinion was probably the best she could have expected. "Hmm. Do you like him?"

"No, not really. He spends altogether too much time fussing about who in the school has pure blood, and who doesn't. You'd think after seven years of it, he'd have thoroughly worked it out, but no. He feels this need to go through and analyse every single one of the new first-years coming in. It's endless. Although, because of that, Malfoy's almost able to recount every student by name or heritage, at least. But he just doesn't stop chattering about them, either-" Zabini suddenly seemed to realise what he was saying, and while his voice remained a neutral drawl, it was clear he was revealing much more information that he wanted to. He flushed, although it was hard to see under his tan. "Alright, my turn. Your spell works fine," he said, a little hastily, reversing the charm. "Veridicus." A slightly stronger wind brushed Hermione's face, but it would be sufficiently subtle for Flitwick.

He smirked at her, apparently determined to embarrass. "Who's your favourite teacher?"

"Professor McGonagall," she answered promptly.

"And what things do you do to catch her attention, Granger?"

Hermione paused. "On essays, I make sure I write an extra foot more than is required, and I-" she stopped, suddenly.

"Anything else?" Zabini said, his smirk growing. Looks like Zabini wasn't the only one who was going to have to reveal slightly personal things.

"I do all extra credit work she assigns me, even if it means I have to stay up past midnight."

"Keep going." Zabini leaned back, the amused expression still on his face. Hermione wasn't going to get away scot-free after Zabini told her about Malfoy...

"I also make sure all my quills are nice and clean, make sure my ink wells are full and all my books in good condition before every class. I also get there exactly seven minutes early - any more than that is desperately early, and any later isn't early at all. Oh, and if I'm not the first to succeed at transfiguring something she assigns us, I'll work on it that evening until I've mastered it, then find her and show her I can do it the next morning, whether I have Transfiguration or not. Oh, and I-" she was babbling, but she was finding it very hard to stop, even though her cheeks were bright pink at the embarrassment.

"Alright, that's enough, Granger." Zabini said with a chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Fine, then. Tell me your most embarrassing moment," she commanded, without hesitation. If he wanted to get her embarrassed, he'd better be prepared to reveal some stuff himself.

"I- It was third year, and there was this girl I'd had a crush on ever since I'd gotten to Hogwarts, it seemed like. She was two years older than me, so she would have been in fifth year at the time. She was a Hufflepuff, to top things off. One lunch, I went up to her, I don't know what I was thinking, and in front of everybody in Hufflepuff and Slytherin, I asked her to Hogsmeade. Of course, she said no, and in an unnecessarily cruel way, too. I couldn't show my face for a week." Zabini's mouth was open, unbelieving that he'd told her that story. Everybody who didn't know it, didn't need to know it. Fine, if that's how she wanted to play it - she was going to have to pay dearly.

"Do you have feelings for anybody?"

Hermione's eyes widened. No. Don't ask that. But he had, and she tensed her jaw as she said one word. She was not letting out any more information than she had to. "Yes."

"Oh?" Zabini grinned as he caught sight of her panicked expression. "Who?"

She swallowed, trying to avoid his question as best as she could whilst still under the Truthsayer Charm. "He's... in my Charms class." Not a lie, yet she could avoid the question as best as she could.

"Hmm." The Slytherin considered that. Well, there were both Gryffindors and Slytherins in that class, so it was one of those. Right, if she wanted to play an elimination game, he could do that, too. "Which house?"

"... Slytherin."

Zabini raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" he considered that for a moment. A Gryffindor liking a Slytherin? Most unusual. "Malfoy, right?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Of course not, Zabini."

He seemed a little relieved at that. "Theo? I didn't think you knew him..." he mused. Hermione shook her head. Damn it, it was only a matter of time.

Zabini frowned, although now he was sounding doubtful. "Crabbe or Goyle, then?"

"Ugh, certainly not." Hermione shook her head, then stood up as Zabini wrinkled his nose in thought. "Well, okay, I think we've established both our spells are fine," her voice was a little strained, as she realised Zabini could easily work out who she had feelings for, now. And surely, surely, if he felt the same way back, he would have realised sooner. It would have been the first thing that came to his head, right? It would have for her, should it have happened the other way around. "Finite Incantatem," she muttered, pointing her wand at both Zabini and herself.

Another light brush of wind indicated the spell was lifted, and she pocketed her wand. She nodded, still a little pink in the cheeks, hurrying over to finish her homework. But even so, embarrassed as she had been, she felt better than she had in a month. And judging from Zabini's expression, he still hadn't worked out whom she liked. She thought it would have been obvious by now, but she wasn't about to test it. All in all, she was... well, she felt comfortable enough around Zabini, and he was seemingly the same around her, too. He didn't belittle her, like Malfoy would have - in fact, he even disliked Malfoy, which was a definite step in the right direction. And maybe, maybe, if he had not asked whom she liked, she might have said that she could call him a friend. Now? Who knows. Instead of thinking about it, she leaned over her work, and continued her essay.

That evening, as she lay on her bed, sleep eluding her, her thoughts turned back to Zabini. She just... didn't know what to think about him. Slowly, slowly, the idea of her liking him didn't seem so bad - things with Ron seemed to be quite rocky, and she didn't see him all that often. Was it not to be expected, falling for someone like Zabini? He was tall, dark, mysterious, and intelligent. He smiled at her, and made her smile back, and the usual Head Girl duties that were somewhat unpleasant seemed not as bad - in fact, somehow she found herself looking forward to them. But that was only occaisionally.

And now? After that afternoon of helping each other with their homework, thankfully, Zabini still hadn't deduced that he was the target of Hermione's affections, strangely enough. Or maybe he had, and he had just remained silent. Yes, that had to be it. But- wouldn't he have said something back? Either that he returned her affections- or he didn't. That last thought hurt, but it would be better than dreaming after him for the rest of the year, ruining her relationship with Ron, only to discover what she sought didn't exist. By then, that would be too painful to think about. Now- now it was early on. She could deal with it.

Maybe.

But he'd always been so polite and nice to her, even after she had admitted it - well, almost done so. Surely, if he didn't feel the same way, he wouldn't have been so nice. Like he always had been, to her. A gentleman. Or, rather, a gentlewizard. How odd that sounded. Gentleman worked nicer. He was, indeed, a gentleman - she would never have believed that someone like him could be a Slytherin.

Well, in truth, he was very Slytherin-like - his smirk and cool confidence, intelligence and so on. If he wasn't a Slytherin, he wouldn't be Blaise Zabini. But he was, and despite the Slytherin image that Malfoy projected - everything possible that was negative about the house, he possessed in great magnitudes. Yet Zabini didn't. His Slytherin-ish attributes were measured by more appealing traits. On the whole, a very attractive combination. Who didn't like the 'bad boy'? Zabini seemed, to her, to be a perfect compromise. She'd always hated Malfoy, yet there was something undeniable...

No. Not going there.

Ginny was right, way back when she caught Hermione looking across at the Slytherin table. She was careful not to do that anymore, but that didn't mean she didn't notice if he was absent, say. But Ginny had the right of it - he was, most certainly, handsome. And Hermione did like him, despite everything. This she'd decided, after several weeks.

Not that it really means anything, though, Hermione decided. It's probably a crush. I'll get over him soon enough.

And not that she'd be the only one admiring Zabini - Ginny had noticed he was handsome, and so why wouldn't most of the other girls? She- she suspected she only hadn't noticed him because she was so immersed in her books. She didn't spend a great deal of time looking out for cute guys in the hallways.

Although, she realised suddenly, with a bit of smirk. If looking for guys in the hallways ends up with finding someone like Zabini, maybe that isn't such a bad way to spend my time.

Immediately, she was shocked at herself.