Blinded

Chapter 5: The Morning After.

Breakfast was a bit strange. They had not spoken to one another since Draco's outburst the night before; and, neither seemed to want to be the one to speak first. It was kind of like their silence had become the backdrop to their ongoing battle. Winning was synonymous with not speaking; the weak, they gave into their voices and the strong, they learned to elicit a power from the absence of words.

Although strong and capable, Hermione could not avoid her agitation. Draco had not only intentionally violated the rules she had firmly established the night before but had also used up all of the hot water. Why he needed to take a fifty-minute shower--she still did not know. He was disgusting, but not dirty. In fact, his side of the room mirrored his incredible sense of hygiene; surprisingly, it was impeccable, not a thing was out of place.

They had walked down to breakfast together, after Hermione had indulged in her cold, but nevertheless refreshing, shower. The silence was as pervasive as ever. You could hear Draco's resonant heartbeat if you listened carefully enough. Awkward was not the best word to describe the aura of that morning's walk to the Great Hall, but it came very close. There was an indescribable tension between the two that was masquerading itself behind the silence they refused to break.

It had been less than twenty-four hours and she already hated not talking to Draco, the one person who understood their situation entirely. Over these past three days, arguing with him had become a routine for her--one she now realized, she enjoyed completing. He kept her on her toes; and she liked that.

The smell of pumpkin pasties was slowly creeping into the air, signaling to the pair that their solitude was quickly coming to an end. They would have to face the rumors, head on, together but so far apart.

Hermione crossed the threshold of the Great Hall, guiding Draco to the Slytherin table. He could tell they were being watched, for a familiar hush swept through the air once again just like the evening before. Draco sat down and could feel Hermione slide into the seat just beside him. He could hear Goyle's hard breathing and Crabbe's inept skill at using a fork and knew the two of them were seated at the Slytherin table. What he couldn't understand was why Hermione had not left his side. He knew she could handle being blind for twenty minutes while eating in proximity of her fellow Gryffindors, but she had chosen not to leave him.

Strange, he thought to himself. It was strange but comforting.

Hermione began to dish eggs, pancakes, bacon and sausage onto Draco's plate. She didn't care to ask him what he wanted for that would mean actually speaking to him. She just gave him some of everything she could reach. She filled her plate up next and finally began to satiate the hunger that had settled at the pit of her stomach. She hadn't eaten in almost a day and half and she was grateful that no one at the Slytherin table had stopped her from eating.

Suddenly a tapping from the front of the room diverted the attention of all the students for the first time since the duo had entered into the room. Dumbledore, in his long robes, had stood up to make this morning's announcements. He made the usual ones--reminding everyone that this weekend there will be a trip to Hogsmeade for all students with signed permission forms, that the Owlery will be closed for routine cleaning and that house quidditch tryouts will be held at the end of this week.

Draco dropped his spoon. Hermione, almost instantly, noticed the sudden shift in Draco's mood.

In the meanwhile, Dumbledore continued, "Oh, yes. One more thing before I leave you to disperse among your classes. As all of you know, Halloween is just around the corner. I have decided to spice things up a bit and make this year's celebration a bit different from previous years. Hogwarts will be hosting a costume ball." Everyone seemed really pleased with Dumbledore's words, for Hogwarts rarely played host to fun events like these. Hermione, however, was paying very little attention to the headmaster's words. She was still looking at Draco who was now a shade paler than he was a moment ago.

Dumbledore was not finished, "Everyone must come in costume, thus adhering to the definition of a costume ball. The task I am giving all of you is, with a partner of your choice, you must devise a costume that effectively conceals your identities--the couple or partnership that can most effectively fool the judges in masquerading their identities will be rewarded. The catch, you can only use one spell between the two of you--so choose wisely. I thought I would let you know this far in advance so that you can all prepare. Remember, teamwork is key!" And with those last words, he made sure he caught Hermione's eye.

When Dumbledore was finished, the entire hall burst out in excited murmurs, leaving Hermione and Draco to their own devices.

Finally--something to distract the student body. Thank you Dumbledore! Hermione thought to herself.

Draco was now so pale that Hermione had no choice but to break the silence. "Draco, are you okay? What's wrong with you?" she asked very concerned.

"Quidditch tryouts," he whispered.

"What?" she asked again.

"Quidd..." he trailed off.

"Oh no!" Hermione said with an air of comprehension. She continued with little sincerity, "Draco, don't worry. Gryffindor will beat you whether or not you play on the Slytherin team."

"Shut up! No! You don't understand! I am captain. How am I going to hold tryouts? How am I going to hold practices? Merlin, how am I going to play? I'm the best Slytherin has got! I have been waiting five years for a shot at this..."

Hermione knew this was true. Slytherin had good beaters but in terms of actual point scoring, Draco was all they had.

"Well, can I help you out in any way?" Hermione asked.

"You? You don't even know the fundamentals of the game--how would you captain my team?" Draco questioned. 'And, for that matter, why are you speaking to me? I was quite enjoying the silence."

Hermione just glared at him. "Look if you don't want my help, fine. I don't care. I don't need to help you but I was offering. I'm not a fan of flying; I don't like playing quidditch but we are in this together. Isn't that the point you made very clear last night?"

"Well yeah, I guess," Draco said, baffled at the way Hermione turned his words against him. She was getting good at arguing with him. He never thought he would see the day when Granger actually impressed him.

"Okay then, we'll discuss details later. Can we please go to potions? I don't want to anger Snape anymore than my mere presence already does." Hermione took one more sip of her fresh pumpkin juice and rose to help Draco out of the room. She was surprised to notice that he did not quiver as she reached for his hand.

Maybe I can be friends with Draco Malfoy, she thought to herself, confused by the excitement she felt at the idea.

Co-captains, Granger and Malfoy--oh has my life really come to this? Malfoy ruminated over the idea, puzzled by the mere fact he was seriously considering it as a valid option.

Dumbledore watched as the pair made their way out of the Great Hall. "It has started," he whispered to himself. "Bound by beauty of mind and men." Dumbledore just shook his head and chuckled a mischievous laugh, while reciting the third part of the prophecy. Indeed, something was about to begin.