Unwell

Hermione looked around at all of the familiar places as she took her seat in the Great Hall between Neville and Ron. She waited and watched patiently as "Haddlesburg, Raine" was added to the Slytherin House and "Malamor, Fanta" to Ravenclaw. She cheered and clapped along with the other Gryffindors as "Bierly, Marie" and "Zondervan, Titus" was added to their House. She silently prayed that they would make a positive addition and possibly become the next "know-it-all". It would certainly relieve a bit of the pressure from her.

At the front of the Hall, Dumbledore was making his usual welcome speech. Hermione could recite it by heart. Her eyes drifted towards the Slytherin table. She tensed as steel gray eyes flashed met hers. Hermione's heart began to flutter. Why can't I hold my composure? He's just a boy. There are plenty of boys. Stop acting like a foolish first year swooning over an older seventh year! Hermione tried to think just exactly why she had fallen for Draco Malfoy in the first place.

He wasn't exactly nice to her. She couldn't recall any time during the years they had had together at Hogwarts when he had complimented her or said anything remotely kind towards her. He even called her a Mudblood (although she still wasn't exactly sure how horrible that name was) Yet, there was something about Draco that caused her to feel uneasy whenever she was around him. She felt that underneath his Slytherin robes, there was a boy who needed help. A boy who wanted someone to understand who he really was. A boy who needed a friend, a true friend, who would allow him to be himself, instead of the person that everyone, expected him to be. And because of that, Hermione found herself wanting to reach out to the gray-eyed boy.

***

Draco had seen Hermione tense as he stared at her. She has pretty eyes. Draco shook himself. Where had that come from? It was true that he had always thought Hermione somewhat attractive, but he would never admit to it. Her best friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were his sworn enemies. Besides, Hermione was a Mudblood. If word got back to his father that he had even pretended to be interested in her, he'd have hell to pay later.

Draco tried to focus his attention towards Goyle, who was making fun of one of the new first years at the Hufflepuff table. Draco faked a laugh and pretended to be fascinated by the chocolate pie that had appeared on his plate. But for some odd reason, his attention kept returning to the bushy haired girl. He tried to catch her eye again, but she was purposely avoiding his gaze. Not that he could blame her. Malfoy's had never been kind to Mudbloods. And Draco had never been kind to Hermione. Crabbe interrupted his thought process.

"Hey Malfoy, what's up? You haven't even touched your pie. You sick or something?"

Draco realized that he had barely touched any of the food from the feast that was set before him. He pushed away his plate and walked from the table without another word to either of his friends. They looked at each other and decided not to follow him. Crabbe and Goyle watched their leader mope out of the Great Hall to think.