from across the crowded Hall and stood up as if to walk over to her, Hermione was quick to make her excuses to her friends and exit post haste.
There were also benefits to being charged with the task of telling prefects where to go and what to do via the wonderful, blessed medium that was the Prefects Notice Board.
Hermione allowed herself a small smile. That week, she had determined that Draco was to oversee fourth year detentions, a task detested by the prefects. In short, she had been doing an exemplary job of avoiding him since their return to school. It also helped that they didn't share any classes together at the start of the week, with the exception of Advanced Arithmancy on Monday morning. But Professor Vector had been in good enough spirits to allow her soon-to-graduate students the entire period off.
And with McGonagall's permission, Hermione had taken the opportunity to make a quick visit to Diagon Alley Post Office, where she intercepted the letter she had arranged to be delivered to Dumbledore, should anything have happened to her during her brief visit to Malfoy Manor.
She could practically taste Draco's simmering anger at her constant avoidance.
This turned out to be just one of the many disturbing side effects of the spell. The more distance she kept from him, the better, Hermione figured. Particularly since according to Tallowstub, the effects of Fida Mia tended to be more marked when initiates were in close proximity with each other.
At first, the only noticeable effect had been an incessant tingling on her skin. It wasn't exactly unpleasant. Rather, it could best be described as if someone was blowing softly along her hip and inner thigh.
But there were other 'discoveries' she didn't care for. Not one whit.
The previous morning, for example, she had awoken in bed with the oddest sensation. It wasn' t until she had felt her hand fumble south of her belly and slip past the elastic band of her knickers to grope at what was quite obviously not there, did she have a mild and horrifying epiphany.
She was experiencing a phantom 'morning glory', and what was worse was that it was almost physically painful. Hermione didn't know what was more traumatic, having to take a tepid shower to rid herself of the 'condition' or knowing that several floors below, Draco's hand was probably having better luck inside his own underpants.
It was enough to give any woman panic attacks.
There were other niggling affects too, none of them welcomed; flashes of anger and annoyance that were uncharacteristic for her. She had snapped at poor Neville when he yet again managed to get his foot stuck on a fifth floor trick step and consequently held up the impatient throng of students behind him. She had swatted at Lavender when the girl had leaned over her shoulder to read Hermione's newspaper.
Hermione didn' t like people reading over her shoulder, mostly because she read very quickly, and out of courtesy waited an additional minute before turning a page. While she would have normally tolerated the minor irritation, that morning her ire had been impossible to subdue. Thankfully, it took more than brusque retort to affect Lavender, and the other girl had simply given Hermione an odd look before returning her attention to breakfast.
Honestly, it was a fate worse than death. She was picking up Draco Malfoy's horrible personality traits.
And then, there was Ron and Harry, and to a lesser extent, Ginny. All of who were not oblivious to her less than cordial mood since Sunday. No doubt, they attributed it to end of school angst, a malady that many graduating seniors were experiencing. Lucky for her, there was a contagious ennui in the air and so her own restlessness did not seem so out of place.
She longed. to tell the boys.
One dramatic daydream had her dropping to the floor, bursting into tears of shame as she begged them for forgiveness.
But it was simply not to be done. Not yet, and not like that, anyhow.
The shame and remorse part was easy enough to understand. Disappointment with herself was something quite new, and it proved to be a very large, very jagged pill to swallow. The fact was - and she had come to terms with this over the weekend - that she had always thought rather highly of herself before the whole sordid incident occurred.
It was a real bubble-burster to discover that she, Hermione Granger, was just as normal as everyone else.
Oh, how the mighty have