"Let me out of these things!" she shouted, her eyes swollen with tears as she hovered a few inches off the ground.
"I need you to calm down, Miss Granger-
"I will not calm down!" she refused, her voice quaking and scared. "What the hell-
"I promise I will explain everything," the professor attempted to soothe her. "I need you to calm down, Hermione. Please."
She stole six long breaths and swallowed back the anguish wedged in her throat. She still hadn't noticed him. "Okay," she murmured. "Okay, just please get these things off me."
With a moment of hesitation, McGonagall released the spell, and Hermione's feet landed on the floorboards with a small thump. She brushed her palms over the raw lines left by the ropes and studied the older woman like a stranger. She coughed away a confused sob and took a wary step towards the centre of the room, oblivious that she'd moved closer to Malfoy.
"Why was Snape here?" she questioned finally, deciding that the silence was far too vexing.
"Before I tell you anything," McGonagall started. "You need to understand that you can't reveal this to anyone. Not even Mr Potter or Mr Weasley."
Hermione shifted her weight and pursed her lips, analysing the situation in her head. McGonagall's words did not bode well with her; she told Harry and Ron everything, and her professor's odd behaviour in the last few minutes had completely baffled her. Her fawny eyes darted away, needing to focus on something else, and that's when she saw him.
Him.
She locked on to his icy-cool glare and felt something in her soul snap.
She didn't remember sprinting over to him, everything was blurry and fast. When she was close enough, she drew back her balled fist and rammed into his face, hard enough to scorch her knuckles. She felt a feral growl vibrate in her throat, and drew her fist back again, the blood slithering down his chin and across her fingers no where near satisfying enough. She wanted to pound his face until it was unrecognisable, until it stopped reminding her of what he'd done.
But McGonagall's spell dragged her to the other side of the room. And she was screaming again.
She fought the magic so hard her limbs burned, but it wouldn't give. "What the hell is that bastard-
"Stop it!" the other witch shouted, keeping her wand trained on Hermione's writhing body. There were no tears now; just a rage that simmered and practically caused the girl to glow. "Hermione, you must listen-
"You spineless twat!" she snapped, ignoring McGonagall and curling her lip as she eyed Malfoy. He was thumbing away the trickle of blood that was leaking from his lip with an expression that was far too aloof for her to handle. He caught her eyes again, and her hatred was blinding. He was slimmer than she recalled, and he looked a little worn, but everything else about him was exactly how she remembered. The creamy hair, the china skin, the rain-cloud eyes. It was awful, and she roared with outrage.
"Control yourself," McGonagall attempted again, stepping into Hermione's line of sight. "I'm trying to explain-
"How could you?" Hermione hissed at the ageing witch, fresh tears springing to her fiery glare. "They killed Dumbledore! How the fuck could you do this to-
"That is quite enough!" she replied, her tone that familiar strict bite. "I'm trying to tell you-
"Nothing you could say would-
"Severus Snape is a spy for the Order," she said bluntly, satisfied when Hermione seized up with shock and released a dulcet gasp. "He is on our side-
"Th-that's impossible," the brunette stuttered, ceasing her struggles to gape at her professor with disbelief. "No. No there's no way-
"It's true-
"You're lying!" Hermione blurted, her cheeks flushed like ripe peaches dotted with dew. She twisted her neck so she could look at Malfoy again, and she felt bile singe the back of her tongue. She felt sick. "They killed him...They-they killed Dumbledore-
"It's okay, Hermione," McGonagall attempted to console the girl, before she glanced over her shoulder to the silent wizard; still sat in his chair and trying to nurse the gash in his lip. "Mr Malfoy, I need to talk with Miss Granger alone."
"Good for you," he grumbled, flinching when it hurt to move his mouth.
"Mr Malfoy," she sighed, suddenly realising how tired she was. "I need to discus some things privately-
"Why?" he shot back quickly. "Snape told me he was a spy, so I know all this-
"You don't know everything," the witch told him. "And you don't have any right to all the information-
"Well, I'm comfortable here-
"Don't force me to move you," she warned, gesturing with her free hand to a door on the other side of her office. "There's a kitchen through there. Help yourself to some food and I will call you when we are finished."
A retort lingered behind his teeth but a spasm in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten in the last twenty-four hours. His curiosity was loud, but the rumbles of starvation were louder. He slowly rose from his seat and gave both the witches a bored look before he headed to the kitchen, muttering a vibrant list of obscenities under his breath.
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