Stop Right There

Hermione decided not to tell Harry and Ron about her new encounter with Malfoy. She knew it was strange, especially on his level, so it would probably be best to ignore it. Even though she was sure Malfoy wouldn’t try anything else, she was still dreading potions with the Slytherins.
Why did he want a truce with her? And why only her? What about Ron and Harry?
Even though Hermione was curious, her fear dampened the curiosity. It was not smart to get involved in something like that.
But even after she was done dwelling over the matter, one thought still struck her. Had Malfoy changed? Had he somehow become different, nicer?
No.
That wasn’t possible. After all, a leopard never changes its spots.
When they arrived at the dudgeons, Malfoy was already there, talking to Crabb and Goyle.

“Oh look, it’s Potty and Weasel king.” Malfoy drawled.

“Shut up, Malfoy.” Said Ron, his ears as red as his hair.

Hermione’s owl – like eyes watched Malfoy as he whispered excitedly to his group of friends. He then laughed out loud and the other copied, rather like sheep.

“Hey Weasel, don’t you live in a bin, or is it just a rumour?” Malfoy howled.

“Just ignore them,” Harry stage whispered.

“I bet you envy Weasel, Potter. At least he has parents, even if they can’t afford a penny.”

Hermione saw red. She tried to ignore it. Ignore the way, Ron’s ears were glowing or the way Harry’s fingers twitched towards his wand which was hanging out his robes. Ignore the way Crabb and Goyle were flexing their muscles in a threatening manner. Ignore the way Malfoy’s constant snapping woke her up like a bucket of iced water. Ignore the way Pansy was constantly hanging on Malfoy’s arm…

“Here,” Malfoy threw a knut at Ron’s feet, “This might help.”

“Shut up Malfoy! Just leave us alone for once. Do you know how pathetic you are?” Hermione shouted, looking straight into Malfoy’s cold eyes.

It all happened in a flash then. Suddenly Malfoy tore his eyes away from Ron to glare at Hermione. But Hermione didn’t see anger. It was more like resentment. When she was sure he was going to call her a mudblood, he turned on his heel and stormed out.

“Wow Hermione,” Ron breathed.

But Hermione wasn’t listening. She was still trying to slow her breathing and ignore the ringing in her ears until it slowed into a gentle, annoying hum.