Chapter Text
Professor Burbage’s replacement (a harried witch with ink-stained fingers and a permanent look of exasperation) clapped her hands at the front of the classroom.
“Your assignment, as you know, was to explore Muggle verse in the style of Shakespeare’s sonnets, or anything inspired by the Bard. Who’d like to share theirs first?”
Hermione should have kept her eyes glued to the parchment before her, but instead she felt Draco’s presence three desks back, heavy as a hex between her shoulder blades. He hadn’t looked at her properly in days. Not since she’d overheard the truth. Not since she’d pieced it together—his sudden interest, his perfectly timed charm, the quiet little wager made at her expense.
Her hand rose before she could stop it. If her voice shook, well, she’d blame the nerves of public speaking.
She walked to the front, parchment in hand, but she didn’t need to glance down. The words had carved themselves into her like a scar.
A few chuckles. She ignored them. She began to read.
I hate the way you sneer at me,
And the toss of silver hair.
I hate the way you fly your broom,
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big, dumb dragon-hide boots,
And the way you read my mind
I hate you so much it makes me ache—
It even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you're always right
I hate it when you lie
I hate it when you make me laugh
Even worse when you make me cry
I hate your stubborn, guarded heart,
Your secrets locked away.
I hate the way you stand too close,
And ruin what I say.
I hate it when you’re not around,
And the silence in the hall.
But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you—
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.
By the last line, her eyes had lifted from the page and found his. Grey meeting brown—raw, unshielded, the whole room vanishing into that fragile tether between them.
A single tear slipped down her cheek. She folded the parchment quickly, as though ashamed of its truth, and pressed it against her chest.
Before anyone could speak, before she could break entirely, Hermione turned on her heel and rushed from the classroom.
Behind her, the silence was absolute. Draco sat frozen in his seat, gaze still locked on the door she’d disappeared through, his expression as pained as if she’d hexed him straight through the heart.