Classes drag but I try my best to take notes and focus. Every class Granger has with me I try and hide the fact that I spend most of the time studying her. The way the sunlight hits her hair mostly, her posture. She always sits close to the front even though she doesn’t contribute anymore. The professors don’t mind she doesn’t wear the uniform, or her lack of participation. I don’t agree with the favoritism but I suppose if anyone has earned it, its her. I sigh and look at my parchment. Ink drops and smeared lettering. We’re meant to have sex tonight, to test her, frankly, ridiculous theory. I drag dinner out as long as possible, I don’t know how this is supposed to go. Do I kiss her? Do I touch her? We didn’t clarify nearly as many things as I thought we did in my dream last night and it left me twitchy and nervous. If Weasley knew I was going to be inside of his golden girl in a matter of hours he would kill me, flay me open, string me up. The part of me I keep trying to bury says it’ll be worth it, to be close to her, to know her like this, even if its meant to be a cure, maybe... maybe it would change things, bond us, maybe she’ll grow just as attached to me as I have her... I pack up my things and head back to the dorm. I can’t allow myself to think like that. I cant allow sentimentality. Not now, not like this.