It was fine, Hermione was telling herself. She was only forming a friendship. Arguably, it was the most logical thing for her to do. The fact that it also felt like she was careening off the train tracks into a rocky ravine, was something she would just have to deal with at a later date. At present, she was living for her stoned nighttime hangs with Draco. It was the most fun she could remember having since before the war.