Chapter 6
Draco
His eyes widened comically.
It was Friday afternoon and Madam Pomfrey had finally released him from the Hospital Wing, under the condition that he continued to take Nourishment Potions until he had a healthy weight and would report to her on Mondays, so she could run a short Diagnostic Charm to make sure he was taking care of himself. McNair, too, had indicated that he would have an eye out for him during meal times to see, if he was there. So there would be no skipping meals anymore, Draco supposed.
The real shock had come when he had opened the door to the common room and Luna Lovegood had gotten up from her seat on Longbottom’s lap (when had that happened?) and was now hugging him fiercely. “I’m so glad you’re alright!” She actually sounded happy.
A little awkwardly, Draco put one arm around her back, with the other he was holding a bag with his supply of potions and a few other things he had had with him in the Hospital Wing. “Thanks … um … it’s good to see you, too.”
She beamed up at him and finally let go. Well, not completely, because now she grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the sofas and armchairs where everyone but the Parvati twins were currently gathered. “Come on!”
He reluctantly followed her. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice. “Hi,” he greeted the others, who were all battling a grin or laughter. The Weasel’s face had taken a colour that very much resembled his hair.
“Hi, come, sit with us,” Potter of all people encouraged him, but he too was unable to keep his face straight.
He sat down on the sofa next to Granger, put his bag down on the ground and watched as Luna resumed her previous seat on Longbottom.
There was a bit of an awkward silence, until Weasley broke it. “You know, I never thought I’d say that, but I feel a little sorry for you. There’s a huge stack of parchment on your desk. I first thought it was some kind of art project, a weird tower or something, but I think Hermione is actually expecting you to read it.”
Granger rolled her eyes. “It’s a week worth of notes, Ronald.”
“Looks more like a year.”
Draco surprised himself with a small grin. “Sounds like I’ll be busy this weekend.”
“You don’t have to read everything this weekend. Also, it’s not as bad as Ron makes it sound.”
“I hardly ever agree with my brother,” Ginevra chimed in. “But it’s worse than he makes it sound. Also, your bed is permanently occupied.”
“My bed?”
“Yes, Hermione’s cat has decided it’s his now, since no one else claimed it since the two of them moved in.”
“Really?” He found himself relaxing slightly and grinned at Granger. “Is there still a place for me on a rug or something?”
“Oh, don’t be dramatic, Crooks will move back to his own bed. Or mine.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he will. That cat is more stubborn than a Graphorn.” Weasley again. Granger threw a pillow at him.
“I was sceptical at first, but I think it saved us all a lot of violence and grief that Hermione moved in with you,” Potter said with a grin.
“Happy to help.”
The conversation went from there and after a while, they all relaxed and Draco was naturally included and soon discussed Quidditch with Potter, Finnigan, Thomas, and the two Weasleys. Ginevra was the only one who was in the team this year and aimed for a professional career. He hadn’t known that, but he thought she could make it. She was a really good flyer.
Luna told him about her mission to find some creature that sounded made up, but when he promised to let her know, if he saw one, she beamed at him.
When one by one got up to retreat to their rooms, Weasley turned to Draco again. “Hey posh boy, I’m sure you play chess, don’t you?”
Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “Of course I do.”
“Good, if you need a break from the Tower of Doom on your desk, let me know. Everyone else here is absolutely hopeless.”
xxx
He didn’t like to admit it, but the Tower of Doom was a quite accurate name. He wondered briefly, if she had put a charm on it so it wouldn’t fall.
The cat really lay sprawled out on his bed and blinked at him defiantly.
“Crooks, this bed is off limits now.” She took him and carried him over to her own bed. He didn’t look happy.
“Great, I think I just made an enemy.”
She chuckled. “He’ll get used to it.” They stood there for a moment, both not really knowing what to say. “So … Maybe Ron isn’t all wrong. It’s quite a lot. But I make very detailed notes.” She smiled apologetically.
“That’s fine. Thanks again. It’ll make it easier to catch up.”
“Sure.” Her smile brightened. “Also, please write to your parents. I’ve been in contact with them all week, but I think they’re really worried.”
“You … have?”
“Yes. They’re probably bored, too.” That didn’t come as a surprise. While the Manor and its grounds provided entertainment in form of a huge library, walks on the grounds, spoiled peacocks and the like, his parents were used to being out and about in society and the Ministry and they had been locked up ever since the War had ended. “Your father asked about what was going on in the world. I didn’t know they don’t even get the Prophet. Well, I gave him an overview and we went from there. Your mother and I somehow got to the topic of theatre. She sounds lovely.”
He smiled. “She really is. I’ll write today.” He reached into his bag and pulled her book out. “And thanks for that. It was really good.” He had indeed enjoyed it. “It’s part of a series, isn’t it?”
“I’m glad you liked it! Yes, but I only have two books with me and one of them is a Christmas read. I’ll go to the Burrow for Christmas and leave it for you to read during the holidays.”
He chuckled. “Ok.”
He unpacked his things, put the vials, which would last him until Monday morning, on his shelf and sat down on his desk. He gave the parchment tower a sceptical look before producing a fresh piece of parchment from his drawer and started to write.
Granger sat on her own desk, presumably doing homework.
Mother,
Father,
I’m sorry for not writing earlier. I guess you already heard, but I wasn’t quite truthful in my letters before. I wasn’t doing so well, but I didn’t want you to worry. I guess it was partly my fault, I could have gone to Headmistress McGonagall when Slughorn didn’t get me a mind-healer and overall very much antagonised me. I didn’t and it was a hard time. After a while, I didn’t really have the energy to write and I’m sorry I made you worry.
I’m better now. I’m going to see a mind-healer two times a week, yesterday I had my first appointment and I think I’m going to get along with her. Madam Pomfrey also insists on seeing me each Monday to make sure I’m not getting worse again.
Did Granger tell you that our new potions master is Devon McNair? I’m going to be taught potions by Devon McNair! He’s also my house teacher now and came to see me on Wednesday. He’s not just a genius, but he also seems to be really nice and he too wants to see me twice a week outside class.
So you see, a lot of people are making sure I’m going to be fine.
And I’m going to be taught by Devon McNair. I can’t stress that enough. I already hate myself for having missed the first lesson I would have had with him yesterday. I’m not going to risk ending up in the Hospital Wing again.
I also promise to be more honest in future letters and write more regularly.
The biggest risk I run at the moment is being buried beneath parchment. Granger copied her notes of the week so I can catch up on the lessons I missed and there’s a slightly concerning tower on my desk. I do wonder whether she put a Stabilising Charm on it. I hope she did.
As you probably know, Granger and I are roommates now. It’s kind of nice, actually. She also brought her giant cat who decided in my absence that my bed is his. She removed him earlier when we came in, but he’s back now and I guess I’ll have to figure out where to sleep tonight. I know I’m not going to fight him, there’s probably some Kneezle in him and he looks like he may win.
Anyway, I’ll end this now so I can send this letter before curfew. I hope you’re both doing alright.
Looking forward to hearing from you,
Draco
xxx
There had been no need to fight the cat. Granger had removed him again before bedtime and he had begrudgingly joined her in her bed.
She had also called Draco out for attempting to place a Silencing Charm on his bed so he wouldn’t wake her when he had a nightmare. She would probably change her mind after being woken up two or three nights in a row.
But when he did wake up with a loud gasp, the feeling of Voldemort’s wand on his arm, his cold hand holding it in place, a moment before marking him for the rest of his life, slowly fading, the canopy of the bed was flung aside and Granger suddenly sat on the edge, wand illuminated by Lumos, and hair ruffled from sleep.
“Are you ok?” She asked quietly and he managed a nod.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be, it’s alright. I have nightmares sometimes, too.”
He felt a hesitant hand on his shoulder and managed a small smile while he got his breathing under control.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head, but spoke anyway. “It’s always one of the same few things. This time it was Voldemort giving me the Dark Mark.” He shuddered and her hand on his shoulder squeezed gently.
“Did it hurt?”
“Hell, yes.” It had felt like his arm had been covered in Fiendfyre and it constantly burned for days.
“I’m so sorry.”
He looked up at her and her eyes were full of compassion. As if she hadn’t been the one who had been tortured in his home.
“I’m fine now, thank you.”
She smiled, squeezed his shoulder again and got up. Before the canopy could fall close, he felt a different weight on the mattress and when he lay back down, still a little shaken, a furry body pressed against him and he fell back asleep to the sound of loud purring.
Narcissa Malfoy
“What’s so funny?”
Narcissa looked up to her husband who had just entered the sunroom, an amused smile still on her lips.
“Your son is pretty excited about being taught by Devon McNair. It’s hard to tell, but you may figure it out, if you read between the lines.” She handed him the letter Draco’s owl Hermes had just delivered, watched him read and smiled when she heard his soft chuckle.
Neither her husband nor she were particularly interested in potions, but living with Draco meant hearing that name at least a few times a week, so they both knew who Devon McNair was.
“That does sound more like him.”
“It does.” She had been so worried, even when he had still written regularly. Like Lucius, she had been sure most of the information they had received were made up. There had been no way of knowing for sure, but they both knew Draco’s way of writing when he was being honest.
“I’m glad he has people looking out for him now,” she said quietly and Lucius sat down next to her, putting an arm around her and gently pulling him towards him. She curled up against his side.
“Me too. And just in case, we also have another source of information.”
She smiled. “Yes, that too.” At first, they had both been a bit sceptical about Draco and Miss Granger living in a room together, but they had quickly realised that his was just old prejudice they hadn’t quite shaken off yet. But their son making friends and not being isolated from everyone else for the whole year to come, was more important and despite everything that had happened in their past, Miss Granger actually seemed to care. She had visited Draco in the Hospital Wing and even taken the time to write to his parents more than once. She seemed nice and her letters showed that she was a bright girl. Lucius was impressed by her insightful commentary on current politics.
Narcissa was sure that a friendship with someone like her would be good for her son and for the first time in her life, she honestly didn’t care about someone’s blood status. This, in combination with Draco’s letter, which was written in his usual light tone, other than all the previous ones, and stating that several people were looking out for him now, was finally providing some comfort after the constant worry she had felt ever since Voldemort had come back. She relaxed against her husband as she was pulled into a kiss.
Draco
Granger, in fact, did not change her mind about the no Silencing Charm rule and she never made an unnecessary fuss either. She helped him calm down and then went back to her own bed and never brought it up in the morning. Usually, he was joined by Crookshanks after a nightmare and Draco grew quite fond of him.
On Saturday after his release from the Hospital Wing, he actually played chess with Weasley, and Sunday, too. He was surprisingly good and Draco lost as often as he won. In the evenings, they all sat together for a while and although Saturday was still a bit awkward, on Sunday it already felt normal.
Granger turned out to be the perfect roommate for him. She was easy to talk to, as they shared many common interests, and she turned out to be quite funny. They could also spend hours in companionable silence while reading or, in Draco’s case for now, studying the many notes she had provided for him.
On the night between Sunday and Monday, the nightmare he dreaded most returned and he saw her again, writhing on the floor of the drawing room, her eyes begging him for help, while he just stood there, doing nothing.
When he woke up screaming, she seemed to realise that something was different, she looked worried as he sat there, panting, sweaty, and she didn’t draw back when he hugged her without thinking, breathlessly apologizing over and over again. After a moment, he felt her arms around him in return, heard her voice telling him that it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t have done anything that she had never blamed him.
He must have fallen back asleep at some point and so had Granger apparently, because when Draco woke up on Monday morning, she was curled up next to him, Crookshanks lying on top of both of them.
Great, now he had really made a complete arse of himself. Wasn’t it bad enough that he woke her up every bloody night?
When he moved, Crooks let out a noise of protest that didn’t sound like a cat at all, and Granger slowly woke up, stretched sleepily and bumped against Draco. Her eyes flew open. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I must have fallen asleep.”
“It’s fine. I’m sorry. I really should put a Silencing Charm on my bed. I wake you up every bloody night.”
“Oh no, you won’t!” The effect of her stern tone of voice was somewhat lessened by her pink cat pyjamas as she sat up. Crookshanks, annoyed by them moving around, got up and went over to her bed, rolling up on her pillow. She paid him no mind. “I don’t mind, really. And … I meant what I said tonight. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, then, very quietly, “I wish I could have.”
“I know.” To his surprise, she hugged him again and he hugged her back.
xxx
As had become custom, they all went to breakfast together and Granger’s stern gaze watched him as he filled his plate. If the portion wasn’t big enough in her eyes, the gaze would become sterner, until he took some more. There was also no getting up before he had finished. That woman was even more of a menace than Pomfrey.
He had once tried to get up before his plate had been empty and Granger had loudly cleared her throat. The comment “That reminded me of Umbridge” had not been the smartest thing to say and he would not repeat that.
He really didn’t want to be late for Potions today, so he didn’t play games, took some sausages and fried egg and slowly emptied his plate and a large cup of coffee. Granger looked satisfied. Weasley looked like he had won the bloody lottery. He found the whole thing hilarious.
Potions class was finally enjoyable again. For the first time since Severus had taken the position of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and Slughorn had replaced him in Potions, Draco listened with interest, as McNair described the potion they would brew today. When they came to the practical part, it showed that he was doing better. His hands didn’t shake when he cut the ingredients, he didn’t count wrong when he stirred the potion, he didn’t make stupid mistakes that led to weird colours, in short, the potion turned out perfect, which was rewarded with 10 points for Slytherin, another 10 points went to Gryffindor and that was that. The only two potions which turned out the way they should were Draco’s and Granger’s.
When the lesson was over, Draco was called to McNair’s desk. “I know Madam Pomfrey already wants to see you today, but since you have a mind-healer appointment tomorrow, would you mind coming to my office after the Hospital Wing? I promise, I won’t keep you too long.”
“Not at all. I’ll be there.”
“Very well. I see you seen. And great work today.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
xxx
The other classes went quite well, too. Draco would still have to do some work to get back to his old form, but at least he wasn’t struggling to stay awake anymore.
Walking through the halls in the company of the Golden Trio also had the advantage that no one called him out for being a Death Eater or tried out some new jinxes on him, so that was a nice change.
The visit at the Hospital Wing after dinner was quite short. Madam Pomfrey ran a Diagnostic Charm and was content with the outcome. He got his Nourishment Potions for the week and one bottle of Dreamless Sleep Potion to use whenever he felt he needed it, so he could at least sleep through one night without interruption, Granger would probably appreciate that, too.
Meeting with McNair, however, turned out to be far more interesting than he would have thought. It started, as expected, with a few questions about how he had been since his release from the Hospital Wing and when Draco just thought he would be sent on his way.
That was not the case.
“You said you’re interested in the development of new potions.”
“I am, Sir.”
“Maybe you’d like to work on a little project with me this year. Only a few hours a week, no more time than you can spare without it getting too stressful. Classes are of course prioritised.”
Draco couldn’t believe his ears. McNair had always kept potions he had been working on absolutely secret. And he wanted to work with him! “I’d love to!”
“Great. Do you know Jean Lumière?”
“I do.” Lumière was a French potioneer, a good one, but his manner reminded Draco of Slughorn. He was very full of himself, at least that was how his interviews and publications came across.
“He has a habit I find rather amusing. As you may know, he specialises in improving existing potions, which is perfectly valid, but he makes big announcements on which potion he is currently working and if he doesn’t manage to improve it within a set amount of time, he states that it’s not possible. He’s done that seven or eight times already. See, when you’re my age, you’ve earned the right to be a little petty.” Draco grinned. “I’ve made it a little pastime to prove him wrong now and then. I did it twice and I think with the one I’m working on now, I’ll do it a third time.” He got up, walked over to his desk and handed Draco some notes.
He skimmed them and his eyes widened. They went back almost a year and there were several pages already. “You’re trying to improve Wolfsbane Potion?”
“Yes. The idea is not only to stay more or less yourself when you’re transformed, but also to reduce or fully take away the pain of the transformation. I think, it can be done. I thought I had a breakthrough in spring, but it turned out I was wrong. I think it’s somewhere around page 10 of the notes.” He shrugged with an easy smile. “Trial and error, sometimes it takes a while.”
“It would be amazing, if that worked out. It’s really bloody painful.” And right now there was no way to change that. Any potion to reduce pain that was currently known contained ingredients that didn’t go well with Wolfsbane.
“So you’re interested?”
“Of course!”
“Good, then take the notes, they’re copies I made for you, have a closer look and on Thursday we’ll meet again and talk about how we go on about the work. I get some help and you get some practical experience in potion development. It’s win-win.”
Draco smiled. “Alright. Thank you for giving me this chance.”
McNair accompanied him to the door. “Of course, I’m looking forward to working with you. Please keep it secret for now. You can tell your friends we’re working together on something new, but not on what. I like to keep my cards close until the big reveal.”
xxx
When he came back, Granger was busy with homework, so he decided not to disturb her for now, and sat on his desk to write a letter. He had received a letter from his parents on Saturday and sent an answer on Sunday, but he had to tell someone.
Mother,
Father,
I know it’s your turn to write, but I have news: Don’t get me wrong, I miss you both, but I’m SO glad the Ministry decided to send me back to Hogwarts. Not just that class with McNair is extremely interesting, he also offered to let me assist him in his current project. I get to work with him separate from class! If this is out of pity because I almost boiled myself to death a week ago, I take it.
Draco
P.S.: Don’t worry, that doesn’t mean I’m going to repeat that.
P.P.S.: I also didn’t almost boil myself to death, that was an exaggeration, so please relax, mother.
~tbc~