They skipped dinner and called for Dobby to bring a plate of sandwiches up to the common room instead. Ron managed to eat over half the plate all to himself and Hermione was once again shocked at the sheer amount of food her friend could put away. As she stood to leave she watched him shove the last remaining sandwich into his mouth whole, the juices dripped down his face onto the white of his t-shirt to join the rest of the food stains there. She had been distracted by her friends all day which had been bliss, giving her no time to think about Draco or the fact that he had not sought her out today. He didn't even check to see if she was ok after last night, Harry had assured her apart from Snape there had been no visitors to the Hospital wing. With only the comfort of her four-poster bed to keep her company, Hermione lay there in the dark of the night imagining every which way her life may fall apart after last night. She saw a life alone, pining for a man who never wanted her in return. A life only half fulfilled full of work and hopeless flings always ending because she wasn't able to commit herself, body and soul. Because her soul would always belong to another, no matter how much he didn't want that to be true. The knot in her stomach twisted viciously, the last time she had felt this anxious had been preparing for her O.W.L’s last year and that felt like a gentle caress compared to this hell. Tomorrow she would have to see him in potions, she would sit one table away breathing in his scent of green apples and sugar quills and know that he did not want her back. Would he look at her? Would he acknowledge her? Would he greet her as Ron had? With open arms and a warm embrace. Or would they be back to square one - where she was dirt under his shoe, or worse - when she was nothing.