She’d been in a sour mood for nearly two weeks. Malfoy was avoiding her. They’d had some sort of incredible breakthrough that Sunday afternoon following his session with Snape, followed by her extremely satisfying dream (and several more orgasms as she re-lived the memory that week), then nothing. He’d been gone from their shared classes on Monday and she’d been the one avoiding him that night,– mostly in mortification– afraid that if he’d seen her he would somehow know what she’d been dreaming about the night before– and thinking about just then as well. Malfoy had also cancelled his last session with Snape via a note slipped under her bedroom door. Hermione had mulled over several possible logical reasons for Malfoy’s sudden absence from their dormitory (and her life, it seemed), but none made sense, none except the one reason she dreaded the most. The possibility that he regretted their conversation from that Sunday afternoon, regretted snogging the living daylights out of her. Regretted his seeming acceptance of their bond.