Hermione wasn’t possessive. She rarely was committed enough to any situationship she was in to care too terribly much about what the other person did. She actually preferred if they were seeing other people, as it meant they had less time to ponder "what could be’ if she would just be willing to "finally settle down’. But as she singled the bartender for another Fire Whiskey, she could feel the jealousy bubbling up in her chest. The black-haired witch had been circling Malfoy for the past twenty minutes before settling into the stool that Harry had vacated only moments before. She watched their interaction out of the corner of her eye while George talked animatedly next to her. 