Hermione swallowed and shifted from one foot to the other, staring at the little wooden latches that opened it with glazed, huge eyes. She didn’t know why she was so scared about going down there – it was only Draco. She huffed a little laugh. Yes, Hermione, she thought, just Draco Malfoy. Malfoy. God, what are you thinking? The next five minutes were consumed in arguing with her uncooperative brain. Hermione catalogued all the good moments they had shared to retaliate against her brain, and they were pitifully few. But then she remembered the winsome smile Draco had flashed her around his forkful of eggs, and that, more than the kiss even, was what made her crouch and fumble with the latches on the trapdoor.