Draco was very jittery as the first bell rang for Potions. It was with the Gryffindors, and never once before had Hermione missed a class, unless she was seriously ill, and seeing her at breakfast, she was perfectly healthy. And the way she was talking to the blood traitor Weasley's sister...she seemed perfectly happy as well. Was it true that she had never really wanted him? Was it true that Lavender Brown had threatened her to ask him? Was he happy about that? Why did he even care? He resolved to ask Brown later, if he had time.
Another reason he worried about Potions was it was with Snape, the only person other than Hermione, his father and mother, and perhaps Ginevra Weasley, who knew his deepest and darkest secret. Would he reveal to the entire class? He certainly had the power to....
Both Hermione and Ginny avoided his gaze as they went their separate ways. Was this normal?
His head was filled with questions. And he wished they would stop coming. Or did he? Why did he have so many questions in the first place?
Draco slapped his head, muttering, "Ignore it, ignore it," oblivious to the confused and frightened stares of his fellow schoolmates. He ran straight toward the dungeon, past Hermione, who was chatting animatedly with half-blood Potter, past blood-traitor Weasley and his girlfriend Brown, past Pansy Parkinson, who cried, "Draco, where are you going?" and past Severus Snape, who glared and furrowed his brows at him.
He wished he could outrun his troubles just as easliy.