Hermione thinks there's something not quite right with the new defence against the dark arts professor. Something that has very little to do with his unorthodox teaching methods, nor his penchant for dark magic. No, there's something not quite right with the sense of recognition she feels when she looks at him-recognition she can't quite place, unnerving in a way she can't describe

Ginny looks like she's about to combust. Her bright brown eyes lock onto Hermione's, blown wide. "So you're telling me," she begins, the inflection behind her words enough to make Hermione's cheeks heat, "That you've started a sordid love affair with Draco Malfoy, THE Draco Malfoy, over an apple?". Hermione wants the floor to open up and swallow her.