fervere

Chapter Six

The tallest Christmas tree Draco’s ever seen was front and center in the lobby of the Malfoy Manor. The handsome balsam fir tree had been handpicked by his mother and decorated with the most delicate looking ornaments imported from Spain. They glistened in the bright morning when Draco woke up to find the mountain of gifts, perfectly wrapped in thick silky wrapping paper.  

Draco’s earnest excitement was smothered out when he was ordered by his father to wait. So the gifts remained untouched.  

Draco had not known there would be visitors since it wasn’t customary of their family to invite anyone to their Christmases. The change was rather unusual and as boring as it was to host a few from the ministry, Draco still was somewhat invested in this change of pace his father brought forth. 

He had invited his old friends, Yaxley and Macnair along with a pair of new faces Draco stared at over the rim of his teacup. Draco and his mother joined his father and his guest, sitting at the long dinner table silently as if they were pretty pictures observing a production put on by the head of the Malfoy Manor. Lucius put his best foot forward entertaining their guests with the best dishes and hor’dourves their house elves were known for. This along with a pleasant smile pasted on his father’s face with a laugh that was strange and warm.  

Draco sensed something was going on.  

“It really is a pleasure to have you join us on Christmas Day Yaxley, Macnair...” Lucius gave a curt nod to his old friends, “Bode, Croaker I didn’t expect you to come when I extended the invitation. I’m rather surprised you’ve made time; I’ve heard that your Department is a rather time consuming position to have.” 

Broderick Bode, a rather tired looking wizard with a bob of white hair, turned to Lucius and gave him a wary smile, “My wife set off to Portugal for the holidays this year, visiting her relatives, you see. It would have been a rather lonely Christmas Day I must admit.” 

Lucius feigning interest, gave his best delighted smile, “Oh, then you must have gotten the day off!” 

“No.” 

“No?” Lucius gasped and Draco did his best to hide his disapproving scowl. He exchanged a look with his mother so she could fully see that, whatever his father was doing, he was really laying it on thick. And it was painfully obvious.  

Saul Croaker, another ministry worker, plated himself another three scones to butter up.  

“Me family’s all dead.” Croaker said without a hint of grievance.  

Lucius Malfoy sat up stiffly, unable to handle the uncomfortable silence setting in, Draco’s mother jumped to his rescue. 

“Must have been difficult dealing with the loss,” She cast a sympathetic look towards him. Even Yaxley and Macnair looked a bit distressed trying to navigate the depressing subject of death on a cheerful Christmas Day. 

“No, not really,” Croaker cleared his throat, eating with his mouth full. Draco sneered in disgust. “Mum and dad had a blood malady. I’wos ‘bout time they go. It was a bit drawn out by the time they died. I suppose only Merlin knows why they hung on a year after they were both bed-ridden. Got them off me back when they crossed ova’. They’ve been up my arse, you see, ‘bout starting me own family but I ‘ave no interest really. I think that seventy-nine is rather young to start a family, donchu think?” 

Narcissa let out a small laugh, “Any siblings? Cousins?” 

Croaker snorted, “None of the sort. Anyways, I jus’ thought to me-self, the possibilities of the malady being in me blood too, wouldn’t want to damn another lil’ witch or wizard jusso I can see me-self in them. Seems a bit presumptuous. With the work at the Ministry as well, not really a family friendly position. So you see, not really in the right place in life to ‘ave any family.” 

“I presume your hours at the ministry are long.” Narcissa flickered her sights on Draco’s father and he adjusted himself in his seat. It was like she signaled him to pull back on his efforts, it was now obvious to Draco that this tea was purposeful. Feeling rather silly that he didn’t see through his father sooner, who only had friends for his own gain, Draco sat back and narrowed his eyes at the two new men.  

Draco desperately wanted the conversation to turn into something useful or insightful, but he knew better than that. His father would never divulge anything important in front of him. Catching sight of his mother’s firm smile, she would have ripped his father to shreds if he involved Draco into any of his schemes.  

So the tea dragged on and Draco grew bored, his mind floating here and there. He thought of the presents that awaited him. He suspected he’d be gifted with a few garments of the finest fashion and perhaps a set of practice quidditch balls. He knew his mother possibly had some new sheets to take with him to Hogwarts. She often recalled how terrible the quality of the sheets were when she was a student.  

As Draco sat there mindlessly guessing what he might get this year, some of their houseelves walked by, Sephina included. He was suddenly reminded of a particular favor.  

Draco, without thinking, jumped to his feet clearing his throat, “May I be excused?” 

Lucius, without hesitating, nodded. 

Draco didn’t know why he was allowed to be excused when he asked abruptly. He decided not to question it and take the chance before it was taken from him.  

When Draco slipped out of their grand dining room he stiffly shuffled along the corridors and, once he had the chance, he turned the corner in a full sprint that opened to the west wing.  

He didn’t stop even when the pain of breathing felt like fire in his lungs. There were a few twists and turns, but the lengths of the halls were long. Still, Draco didn’t stop until he saw the towering double doors to his suite. Draco slammed the doors shut and paced around excitedly before he sat at the foot of his bed and prepared his voice.  

“Sephina? Your assistance?” He clearly called out.  

With a small poof, the small house elf, appeared right in front of her young master. Sephina, rubbed her greyish hands together and avoided looking directly at him, dots of pink on her small grey cheeks.  

“Young Master Draco?” She bowed deeply, “You’ve made it home for Christmas. What a delight to have the opportunity to serve you on this special day.” 

“Sephina,” Draco leaned forward, “Were you able to remember the task I asked of you?” 

Sephina giant eyes, the size of oranges, averted her gaze.  

“Well Master Draco,” She carefully began, “Well you see the great task was quite confusing.” 

Draco was disheartened.  

“How so?” 

“Sephina tried her very best, she did. Jumped at every opportunity to serve Master Malfoy in hopes to serve you well but... heard nothing about graveyards.” She earnestly said, “Not once.” 

Draco deflated. Rotten. What use will Dumbledore have for Draco if he had nothing to give him?  

“Master Lucius has been occupied with unspeakables nowadays, he’s never mentioned a graveyard,” Sephina flinched as if that piece of information was going to earn her a few lashes for not being enough. Except it was even more confusing.  

“I don’t understand. You mean-,” Draco paused, gathering his thoughts, “You mean, father hasn’t been speaking much as of late, so he hasn’t mentioned anything like a graveyard.” 

Sephina retracting within herself, tensing up as if she sensed a lashing coming her way.  

“No, Master, the unspeakables ,” Sephina gulped. Fearing she said too much she excused herself with work and disappeared. Rotten luck, Draco was just about to ask for a pumpkin pasty.  

The boy threw himself lightly on his bed and observed the ornate ceiling with handsome trimmings that would have usually been unnoticed by the sheer darkness of the wood if it wasn’t for the roaring fire in his suite.  

The unspeakables? 

Perhaps, the family library would clue him in. Lucius did have a few books about the ministry or... perhaps in his father’s study room. Just as soon as Draco had relaxed into his bed, he jumped out curious to find out if their family collection would even have something as cryptic as unspeakables.  

Having to cross past the dinning room to get to the east wing of the manor, Draco came across his father slowly walking their guest out. They all seemed in good spirits with small, boxed gifts in their hands. No doubt Lucius went out of this way to buy some kind of favor for them. Draco watched them for a moment before his mother placed her hand on Draco's unsuspecting shoulder.  

“It’s nice you have you home Draco,” She smiled, “How was the Yule Ball? You’ve kept such a tight lip on it.” 

Draco gave the Ball a moment of thought.  

“It was fine.” 

“Who did you go with?” She asked, holding in a particular smile. Draco knew she was hoping he had chosen his date well and, based on their standards, Draco supposed he did. 

“Daphne Greengrass.” He revealed but ready to move on from the topic, “Who were those men at tea, mother?” 

She smiled looking back at his father, “You know Yaxley and Macnair, Draco.” 

Draco’s mother, Narcissa, always had a lovingly sick look when his father was present. As if she admired the very air the surrounded him. It was hard for Draco to speak to her sometimes when her face glossed over and there was nothing but thoughts of father in there. 

“I meant the other two. Why were they here?” He pressed. Draco might have pressed too far, it seemed, it looked like his mother was eager to get back to his frivolous dating life.  

“ Greengrass , you said,” She hummed out, looking out as father reached the door, presumably extending his last goodbyes, “Lovely family, Draco.” 

“How does father know, them. Bode and Croaker?” He asked again, “Doesn’t seem like the sort father likes to keep around.” 

Snapping out of her trance, “Draco, your father is quite the social butterfly-” 

“-more like a moth.” 

“-not uncommon for him to strike up relations anywhere he goes. And as far as those gentlemen, well, best to keep that to ourselves.” 

“Why?” Draco questioned and she squeezed his shoulders, a signal that he should stop inquiring.  

“No reason,” She shrugged, “Not as if we need to report about everyone who comes in and out of our home. Somethings are best left to be... unspoken. Come, Draco, we can open presents now.” 

That word. 

It caught him off guard as his mother ushered Draco towards their grand Christmas tree. There was something he was missing and Draco knew just the person to ask. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

After having to pack two extra school trunks and having them sent in advance, Draco’s time with his family was cut short. Snape had sent an owl to his mother asking to have an occlumency checkup and she gleefully agreed. 

No questioned asked. 

It seemed she had nothing much to worry about. Narcissa’s son was mingling with the right sort of people and learning how to shield his mind. Mother was over the moon with how things were developing in her point of view.  

Unbeknownst to her, Draco had sent an owl to Snape pleading him to get him back to Hogwarts as soon as possible just as Christmas Day had ended.  

When Draco had arrived Hogsmeade Station, Snape was at the platform waiting for him looking rather suspicious. They exchanged pleasantries and set off to Hogwarts in a magicked carriage. The rickey ride was silent but still beautiful as they toured the trails lined with fields of pillowy untouched snow and crystalized bare trees.  

Draco had been admiring the surroundings and made the mistake of connecting eyes with Snape when the shot of an arrow seared through his head. 

Draco forced his eyes shut and within a moment he was out.  

“Impressive,” He sighed, “You shut me out pretty quickly.” 

Proud (and slightly drained of energy), Draco merely shrugged.  

“However.” 

He rolled his eyes. There was always another thing.  

“If I were to be truly investigating your mind, your shut out would only prove to be nothing but suspicious.” Snaped pointed out.  

Draco guffawed. Of course. Not only must Draco master occlumency but now it is required that he know the psychology of an opponent.  

He groaned, “Are you saying now it is better to let you in my head?” 

Snape remained silent up until their arrival at Hogwarts. They both climbed up the steps and the moment Draco stepped away from the usual path to the Slytherin Common Room, Snape questioned him.  

“ Where are you going?” 

“Is Dumbledore in?” Draco asked, “I wish to speak with him.” 

“What for?” Snape drawled.  

Draco remained silent. 

“You have information?” His brows raised. Draco knew he wasn’t surprised that he wished to speak with Dumbledore. He was more surprised he hadn’t caught it in Draco’s mind. 

“I have questions.” Draco clarified.  

Thankfully, Dumbledore had just arrived that morning after a cheerful New Years Eve with a few members of the Internation Confederation of Wizards. He still looked rosy in the cheeks from a generous amount of fire whiskey that was custom to drink on the eve of a new year.  

“Mr. Malfoy,” He smiled, “Welcome back! I hope that your holidays were a pleasant break despite the early arrival. Very early indeed.” 

Draco nodded, “Yes, Professor.” 

“You wished to speak to me as soon as you stepped in, is that right?” He confirmed.  

“Yes, Professor.” 

“Dear boy, whatever about?” He said still in high spirits. 

Draco placed his hands behind his back and thought about it for a moment, holding the faces of Bode and Croaker in my mind.  

“Sir,” He pressed my lips together, “Forgive me if I can’t piece this together in a way that make sense but, father brought some unusual guest to our manor on Christmas.” 

“Unusual how?” Dumbledore asked.  

Draco paused for a moment, “Other than the fact that they are not the usual people father associates with, I’m not sure.” 

Dumbledore sat on his desk, leaning on it from his side as he crossed his arms curiously. He waited for Draco to continue.  

“A Broderick Bode and Saul Croaker?” He announced. Draco didn’t miss the quick glance Dumbledore passed on to Snape behind him. “They aren’t the kind of company he usually has around.” 

“Well,” Dumbledore sighed, “You father has always been very involved with the workings of the ministry, I don’t think it’s anything incriminating to know he’s had people from the Department of Mysteries over.” 

“What’s the Department of Myst-” 

“Sir,” Snape interjected, “I think you know as well as I do that Lucius is calculating in his relationships. Perhaps... it should be taken into consideration?” 

“I spoke to Sephina as well,” Draco began, “Our houseelf. She insisted that father hasn’t mentioned a word about a graveyard. But she did mention something else. Sh-she said father has been occupied with unspeakables-” 

There was that glance again between them and Draco turned to look back at Snape for reassurance. Was he missing something? 

“He’s acting foolishly,” Snape said looking straight at Dumbledore, “Someone desperate enough to try to befriend an Unspeakable for intruding reasons is better off getting a wall to speak.” 

“What?” Draco piped up, not exactly following along.  

“Severus,” Dumbledore said gravely, “If he is willing to go through those lengths, perhaps he senses something that we are missing.” 

Snape suddenly turned to Draco, almost accusingly, “Are you sure there was nothing else about a graveyard or the Dark Lord?” 

“No.” Draco flatly said, “Can I know what is going on?” 

“He must be interested in what’s hiding in the department.” Snape suggested with a simple shrug, although he didn’t seem too concerned like Dumbledore was, scratching his chin pressing his lips together.  

Draco's father interested in the Department of Mysteries? Even if he was politically generous with donations, his branch of international magical cooperation surrounding trade... it was odd choice to have sudden interest in another department other than education which Draco knew his father loved to involve himself with.  

What would his father gain putting his nose into a department that seemed out of his scope of interest? 

Unless... it is now in his interest, which would explain the new friends. 

“What exactly is the Department of Mysteries?” Draco asked, unable to recall that certain department in any connection to readings or casual conversations at school.  

“Is a rather small sector of the Ministry,” Dumbledore explained.  

Snape scoffed, “With a rather large capacity.” 

Dumbledore was rather sullen as if it was Draco's fault that the cheer of his New Year festivities was cut short.  

“The Department of Mysteries holds some of the most quizzical mysteries of magic on this Earth.” Dumbledore spoke slowly, “I’ve only heard a bit of the twelve rooms it guards but it something that is highly impenetrable. The guardians of the department have sworn their entire lives to secrecy. Ever since the establishment of the Ministry of Magic in 1673, most departments have a few oversights or monthly errata that causes a huge headache for the Inquiry Squad. These Unspeakables you’ve heard of Draco, have never made such an error in their department. A few have died, yes, but give up the secrecies that lie beyond those doors? Never .” 

“Then you are suggesting father must be seeking something within.” Draco gulped, “If you told me what exactly is in the Department of Mysteries perhaps I can find out-” 

“Draco, I’m regretful to inform that even I don’t know exactly what is within the Department,” Dumbledore interjected, “I can guess based on the few interactions I've had with Unspeakables but I believe we have time on our side. It is better we don’t worry about such things yet. Afterall, as mentioned, it would be impossible for your father to gain any access to the Department, for personal reasons or... for others.” 

Draco was ushered out before he was able to press for more information. He laid in bed that night wide awake, mind reeling from the added information. What exactly was his father intending to do in the Department of Mysteries and what was so important that he was willing to embark on an impossible quest? 

Draco had an itch to hunt it down himself. Despite Dumbledore’s apprehension to tell him, it’s not like he had forbidden Draco to search for answers himself.  

Draco took the liberty to jump into the library at the earliest hour of convivence to make the most of the time of an abandoned library. Many Hogwarts students were still on break so he had the comfort of a freely roaming the library without having to hide what he was in search of.  

Draco had spent two full days buried in books, researching anything that was printed about the Ministry.  

He read about the Trials of Grindelwald. He brushed up on the establishment of laws, reading familiar names including what Draco can only assume were his ancestors pushing to live freely among muggles. There was so much information that took days to look through, Draco found the task impossible considering the inpour of students was now days away.  

Undeterred, Draco woke up on the last frosty winter morning of their break, his dorm bathed in darkness to set out for the library for one final day of research. He yawned, walking by the mismatched sizes of the moving portraits, thinking that perhaps with the permission of Snape, Draco could get into the restricted section if his attempts this morning proved to be futile. The thought of giving up had crossed his mind a few times as the cold gripped on to his pale skin.  

Although he was tempted to jump back into bed and sleep in another few hours, Draco trudged on, entering the library and greeting Madam Pince with his free hand and hiding a cup of morning tea with the other.  

Finding his secret nook, he rushed carefully in squeezing himself sideways through the narrow opening only to find Granger already bundled up, hunched over a book Hogwarts, A History , like he’s witnessed her read plenty of times.  

It seemed like Draco had shaken her out of her sleep, she jumped up, and for a moment she was docile and sweet with her newly tamed hair looking a bit disheveled. That is, until she laid eyes on the new body that was in her presence and she looked immediately defensive.  

“Malfoy!” She exclaimed, looking around her surroundings she deflated and rubbed her eyes, “I must have doze off.” 

The three large arching windows that usually allowed a comfortable amount of warm light were covered in frost and casting the most eerie blue color, just before dawn threatened to break. Hermione seemed to notice and panicked.  

“Oh,” She gulped, “It can’t be the morning, can it? There’s no way! I just closed my eyes.” 

“Granger,” Draco looked back the opening, “I’ll just leave...” 

“Is it morning?” She asked, fully knowing it was double-checking her wristwatch. 

“One guess,” He snorted. She inwardly groaned.  

“Harry’s going to hate me.” She mumbled under her breath. Unable to help himself, Draco had to cut into the one-on-one conversation she was having with herself.  

“If it’s because you’re reading that book for the hundredth time, I completely understand Potter.” He teased and for a moment Hermione relaxed.  

“No, you misunderstand.” She lolled her head the side after rubbing her face vigorously to wake herself up, “I’ve been reading up on the lake here at Hogwarts and...” 

She trailed off as if a sudden thought caused her to think why she was sharing information with her mortal enemy. Perhaps it was something that didn’t need to be shared, especially with the likes of Draco. Still holding on to his warm cup of tea, Draco comically looked down at his cup and over to Hermione and then back to his cup.  

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to place his warm cup of tea in front of her.  

“Here,” He frowned, unsure of why he gave up his tea, “Looks like you need it more than I do.” 

Hermione’s eyes immediately narrowed, “How do I know if you tampered with it?” 

Is she out of her mind? 

Offended, Draco took back his cup, “You think I had enough time to spike it right in front of you?” 

“You could have done so before.” She pointed out.  

“I had no idea you were here!” He exclaimed. He thought it best to leave. This was much more of a hassle than he expected it to be.  

Cordial? 

Perhaps not, but it wasn’t exactly fighting, and it still bothered him she didn’t trust him.  

Draco shuffled out of the nook and the urge for his morning tea vanished. He abandoned the cup on the first shelf he found and stalked off.  

He had important things to do anyways. Far more substantial than a stupid tournament. 

His father was being suspicious, and he needed to get down to the bottom of it before Lucius made some stupid mistake that he would have to pay for. That was Draco's main concern. Not stupid Granger.  

Draco found a dusty table, too upset to magic all the dust off. He lightly slammed a few books down and cracked them open, huffing and sneezing away the dust that was now floating lightly in the air. 

His mind reeled.  

He spent perhaps hours staring at a page and not being able to take anything in. Frustrated, he’d grab another book to blankly stare at and then another.  

And another.  

It wasn’t until Draco forced himself to walk around to get his mind to do anything but think of Granger when he came across a curious book not exactly in the restricted section. It was exactly next to it. It was an older looking book compared to the others, but it still looked in pretty good condition. The title itself wasn’t what caught his attention, it was the author.  

“Elemental and Abstract Magic and its History by the Ministry of Magic .” Draco read out loud, “The Ministry?” 

He slipped the small book out, it felt like it was a little bigger than the size of his palm. Checking the cover, he slowly walked back to his dusty table. Draco finally flicked his wand, and the wooden table was clean and bright.  

His stomach rumbled but ignored it once he began to skim the book.  

The first chapters were mostly about magic and how it originated from the four most basic elements, which was all lovely, Draco sighed. Surely someone like Hermione would find this radically interesting. He, however, stopped at a page while flipping when the word Unspeakables jumped out at me. Draco stopped and read the paragraph.   

...while the most abstract of magic is harder to measure and study like the elementals, it still is worth noting that The Unspeakables of the Department of Mysteries dedicate their lives of the protection to their research and observations. Much like elemental magic, abstract magic is can always be manipulated but never created... 

Draco excitedly flipped through sections of time, love, death, and the mind. As mentioned, he was sure it would make for very interesting topics of conversation but once he came across a curious section, Draco paused.  

Prophecies are perhaps the last greatest mysteries that are studied and fiercely protected at the Ministry. It is believed that prophecies and seers are the perfect marriage, the embodiment, of all the mysteries placed into one. Transcending time and space, having a mind see and predict what is to come, it proves to be one of the strongest magic that we have yet to discover it’s full potential. It is curious to note that the majority can trust that the other mysteries are fundamentally real yet when all placed into one, as the prophecy, it is hard to trust a seer when, objectively, we believe ourselves to be the master of one’s universe. We either live recklessly since it has been plotted out for us or we fight against the inevitable.  

Draco sat there digesting and thinking for the longest time. He could only assume that something about prophecies was what his father was seeking. Nothing else in the Department of Mysteries would pique his father’s interest. Perhaps they had the world’s greatest seer locked up and his father wanted guidance in how to navigate what felt like was inevitable. Draco thought about Trelawney and how she was a big joke but... maybe she could provide some insight.  

Draco felt a slight shiver and just as the freezing air reached his core, he conjured a warming spell to heat up his winter robe. That’s when he heard the small clunk of something hard being set on his table.  

His grey eyes flickered up and there was a cup of warm tea in frount of him, its steam rising in the air in unpredictable swirling wisps. He could immediately tell by the smell that it was chamomile. Dragging his eyes up, he found Hermione nervously kneading her hands together.  

“For the tea,” She cleared her throat, “I saw that you left it behind and I felt guilty.” 

“How do I know you didn’t tamper with it?” Draco shot back without thinking, her face scrunched up at his defensiveness.  

“I didn’t mean to come off as ungrateful when you offered something of yours,” She admitted, “I’m still coming to terms that- what I meant to say is... I- I actually don’t know what I want to say or why I’m here, if I’m honest.” 

Hermione fell silent. 

“I’m confused.” She finally admitted. 

Her small dollish face turned a stunning shade of red.  

“I don’t know why I have the need to say this but you’ve changed, and I feel like I should be highly suspicious of it but...” 

Draco sat up straighter. Suddenly pleased.  

“Go on,” He lazily ordered her, suppressing a smile.  

“Your family and their history,” She gulped, “And how horrible you were last year.” 

It wasn’t that she was wrong in placing Draco in the correct box, he rightfully was nearly cruel to her last year. And despite his change this year, Draco hadn’t really proven himself trustworthy at all. 

“Why are you reading muggle stories?” She suddenly asked, her hands were placed on the top rail of the chair across him, “I would have never guessed that a silly book like that would be something you’d take time out of your day to read.” 

“It may come as a surprise to you but I do enjoy reading, Granger,” Draco scoffed, “Perhaps not as obsessively as you but yes. Is there a problem with reading Beauty and the Beast?” 

“There is.” She haughtily stuck her nose up as if she were trying to make a point.  

Draco shifted his eyes around.  

“What is it then?” 

“Why?” She pressed as if it was a question she’d been itching to ask since she discovered his book but was too afraid to ask.  

Draco chewed on his bottom lip.  

“If you must know, I genuinely thought it was called Beautiful Beast , some book about muggle monsters or something.” He shrugged, slightly irritated that she wouldn’t let it go. Hermione pressed her lips together as if she wanted to stop herself from smiling.  

“And your science book? About flight?” She pressed on, composing herself, “You obviously got those books and brought them here, no way would our library hold any muggle books. I know, I’ve looked.” 

He let out a deep sigh, “Of course you would.” 

Draco made good use of her peace offering, the tea, and took a small sip feeling quite relaxed with the chamomile.  

“I spent a few summers with Sn...” He paused, clearing his throat, “ Some friends and where they lived, they had the, um, airplates flying around and I just wanted to know how muggles did that sort of thing without magic, that’s all. Nothing too grand to launch an entire inquisition, Granger.” 

Hermione took in a deep breath, “Yes, well, right.” 

She stood there long after the conversation died and although he didn’t want her to leave, Draco also didn’t know what else to say.  

“You missed breakfast,” She pointed out. 

“I can wait for lunch.” Draco said with finality, closing his book and making a mental note to check it out. He unceremoniously grabbed another book and cracked it open in hopes that he appeared busy.  

A delicious looking muffin was placed on a paper napkin and Hermione's face was pained with confliction, sitting herself down across from him, pushing the muffin towards Draco.  

She hesitated to look Draco straight in the eye.  

“Are you busy?” She tilted her head to the side to get a better look of his profile.  

“What do you think Grang-” 

“Would you know of any way one could stay underwater?” Hermione interjected. She spoke so softly that he had to lean forward over the table to catch her every word. He was surprised he even heard her enough to stop speaking.  

“I suppose holding your breath does the trick,” He smirked, grabbing the muffin and taking a bite. Draco wasn’t about to reject a muffin. Hogwarts had the best lemon poppy seed muffins he's ever had.  

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh which amused him. Draco could only assume that was the reason she had been spending much of her time at the library. Well, one of the many reasons.  

“I meant, can a person actually breath underwater.” She let out an annoyed grumble that seemed more directed at herself than him, “I’ve heard of the bubble-head charm but... it’s advance magic. I don’t think Har-” 

She winced and Draco sat straighter when the true reason was revealed.   

“Is this for Potter?” He grinned broadly, “For the second task?” 

Her shoulders dropped, “Please don’t tell anyone that I’m asking you for help... or advice.” 

Delighted to find out more, he pressed on.  

“How can I tell a soul when I still don’t have the slightest of clues what is being asked.” Draco teased, rolling his eyes. 

Hermione paused and leaned forward too. Draco felt a slight skip in his chest.  

“I’m not one hundred percent sure but the task will require Harry to plunge into the lake and retrieve something within an hour, which would be physically impossible unless he can breathe underwater.” Hermione whispered loudly.  

“Wicked.” He smirked which didn’t help ease her tension.  

“Seriously Draco,” She clenched her teeth, holding her fist towards herself as if she was trying her best to not lay another fat punch on him from the slight teasing. Draco, on the other hand, was just smitten that she had said his name again.  

“I thought because you grew up with magic and probably know a lot more than Harry and I combined, or that you heard of something, like an alternative, to dive into water for a period of time.” She confessed, pouting her hopes dwindling. 

Trying not to antagonize her, Draco shook his head earnestly, “Other than the bubble-head charm, no, not really.” 

“Really?” She gave me an incredulous look and Draco had to laugh at her suspicions.  

“Granger,” He licked his lips, “I’m being honest, I don’t know. Stop looking at me like I have the answers or something. I know you don’t believe me-” 

“I do,” She quickly cut in. Draco’s heart paused for a moment.  

“Really?” 

She immediately caved, “Well no, not at first. If you must know, I did end up asking Professor Dumbledore about you and he collaborated with what you said. Then I felt foolish enough to want to apologize, but I'm not even sure what to apologize for.” 

He cracked a smile. 

“I accept.” 

Hermione stumbled and sputtered on her words.  

“No, no! No need to explain,” Draco playfully raised his hand, “Out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll forgive you.” 

“Kindness?” She gasped out with a hint of a smile on her face. She glowed in amusement. 

With a last bite, Draco finished his muffin thanking Hermione for the treat. He looked back at his book for a second before she pulled his attention back to her.  

“I wouldn’t exactly describe you as kind,” She furrowed her brows. Draco remained silent and stoic. He completely understood what she meant by it. It was a heavy topic to discuss, and he wasn’t sure if now was the time to talk about it. Draco nodded in agreement to validate her.  

“I’ll ask around.” He said speaking into his book.  

“What do you mean?” She pressed.  

He sighed, “I’ll ask our professors, Granger.” 

“You can’t!” She reached out to his wrist to hold, as if she feared Draco would disapperate that very second. Draco’s skin pulsated with her warm touch, “Harry isn’t able to have any outside help from teachers. Even I’m not supposed to help him. It’s not exactly against the rules but it’s deeply frowned upon.” 

He snorted, “Oh please, Granger. It would be more shocking if any of the champions were passing the tasks all by themselves. I believe it out of Diggory but not for the rest, especially from your boyfriend Krum. Looks like he’s gotten one too many bludgers to the head-” 

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Hermione protested, “He’s just a... friend .” 

Draco's heart was delighted to hear the news. He suppressed a smile in hopes to not look pleased by it but Granger was a smart girl. Sensing something was off, she was immediately on the defense. 

“Well what about Daphne Greengrass?” She said pointing her chin up, “Isn’t she your girlfriend? You took her to the ball.” 

“Didn’t know your interest extended towards my social life, Granger,” He teased.  

“I-I'm not- no!” She protested, “I'm not interested.” 

Draco cocked a brow up after a brief silence of his total amusement, “Granger. Daphne and I aren’t dating." 

“Oh, It’s just you were awfully close to her when she kissed...” She trailed off and felt a tinge of embarrassment having revealed that she might have seen Daphne kiss his cheek at the Yule Ball. It was only a simple peck, one of gratitude. 

“Granger,” Draco drawled out, “Not every girl I’m close with is a girlfriend.” 

She sat there unable to retort.  

“Anyways,” He shook his head, “If you’re so concerned about me asking around, you shouldn’t worry. Professors would expect you to help your friend out. Why would they think I would join the Potter cause?”  

Hermione thought for a moment before she gave him a serious look.  

“Are you sure you don’t mind helping Harry?” She asked.  

He shrugged, “As far as anyone is concerned, I’m helping you .” 

“And you swear you won’t do anything to purposefully veer him off the wrong direction.” She narrowed her brows.  

“I’ll do my best to investigate. Once again, not for Harry,” Draco clarified, “For you.” 

“Me?” 

“Yes,” Draco confirmed, “I mean you could go running back to Dumbledore to be proven wrong but- ow! ” 

Draco didn’t get a punch in the face, but he did get a good slap on the arm. And it was wonderful.