fervere

Chapter Eleven

The Weasleys came in the wee hours of the morning. Even with the exhaustion of the terrible sleep Draco had been getting, there was nothing subdued about a Weasley’s presence anywhere, anytime. The boisterous shouts of the twins echoed up to Draco’s attic, shaking him up from a light slumber. Hearing the thunderous stomps of feet clambering up the stairs, jolted Draco out of his bed. 

Aster simply rolled over to claim the spot of warmth left by Draco. 

Curiosity got the best of him and he crept out of bed and down the spiraling stairs to reach the final fourth floor just in time to see a mob of red hair clambering up to find their own rooms to stay in.  

It had surprised Draco to find Snape at his side when Ron, who had the longest legs of all the Weasley’s reached the fourth floor first. Draco didn’t have enough time to question where and when Snape had appeared when Ron's face, stretched in excitement, diminished as he realized who was in front of him.  

Draco yawned. A perfectly placed action considering the ungodly hour of night it was. 

Ron looked behind him to ensure he wasn’t being pranked as Mr. Weasley and the rest of the family reached the landing. Mr. Weasley looked embarrassed to face his own kids when the realization struck them that their most beloved professor was included in the Order, and Draco was part of the package.  

“ Ahm ,” Mr. Weasley cleared his throat, “I forgot to mention another thing about the Order, kids. Besides being prohibited from attending meetings, I must stress that the Order is completely secret and under no circumstance will you discuss what you see or who you see to anyone outside this house. There are curses placed upon this place if anyone were to think of...” 

The rest of the Weasley children stared on at their father, in disbelief, as he trailed off. 

Mr. Weasley flashed a look of uncertainty towards the odd pair, “Ahem. Severus Snape is a trusted ally of Dumbledore and by extension Draco as well, a valuable one as we are to learn.” 

“You can’t be serious dad,” Ron pointed and Draco sneered, “Harry told us he saw his father there! Of course, it would do Lucius Malfoy a bit of good to have his son in the thick of the Order.”  

“Let it be known that Professor Dumbledore has it in good faith that dear Draco Malfoy would be a great recruitment to our side,” Snape said, wasting no time in explaining his student’s stay, “His family have deep ties with the dark side and it would only benefit us if we keep our minds open to the refuge they will eventually seek. Draco being one of the first.” 

Ron exchanged looks with Ginny who, more than anyone, was more curious than fuming. A small knowing smile pulled at her lips.  

Mr. Weasley clapped hoping it would rid the awkwardness, “Right then. Let’s find ourselves a place to sleep kids.” 

“There’s three rooms on this floor,” Snape announced, “They haven’t been properly cleared out.” 

“Oh not to worry Severus,” Mrs. Weasley smiled tiredly. She had been hovering in the back silently behind her children. 

“Do I have to sleep in the same room as Ron?” Ginny whined, “He snores mum.” 

“Do not!” Ron defended. 

“Sorry Dear. For now, it will have to do. We can’t take up rooms that the Order will be using,” Mrs. Weasley pouted for her daughter, “They’ll be coming and going and we won’t know exactly when, It’s better to leave those rooms free. They are putting so much work, I’m sure they look forward to come and find a nice warm bed.” 

Snape blinked, “There’s an infestation for doxies on the third floor. The fourth floor is free for all your family, Arthur.” 

Mr. Weasley nodded and ushered his family around to see if they could find acceptable accommodations for his litter. 

With that, Draco was (begrudgingly) accepted, sort of. Draco was allowed to eat with the Weasleys that morning, albeit in silence. There wasn’t a raving interest to try to understand why Draco, a foe to Harry Potter with a known DeathEater for a father, was sitting with them as if it was a completely normal. They didn’t have to say much, it was written all over their faces when they peered at Draco as if he was a snap waiting to explode.  

The twins were tiptoeing around him like they were afraid of waking a sleeping dragon, while Ron ignored him altogether. Only Ginny, besides Aster who begged for scraps, didn’t mind taking the space to sit beside him at meals acting like this was an everyday occurrence.  

“Pass the pepper, Malfoy,” Ginny asked, holding out her hand. 

Draco had risen to his feet when she asked, having finished his hearty meal. He quickly plopped the little pepper shaker in her grasp and excused himself, muttering a thanks to Mrs. Weasley for the food and stalked off. 

Draco could feel the burning stares from the six members of the Weasley family as he left the kitchen. No doubt once he was out of earshot, they would not waste a moment to talk about the blonde teenager who stuck out like a sore thumb, curious as to what Draco had said to convince Dumbledore.  

Draco’s novelty didn’t last too long. As the day went on, more and more people showed up to Grimmauld. All people Draco was aware of.  

Mad Eye, who had taught Draco last year, but really hadn’t. Lupin, another of Draco’s old professors, who looked more than worn and torn for how young he actually was. More of the Weasley’s the two oldest, Draco assumed since he’s never seen them but recognized their blazing read hair from a mile away. 

Bill, Draco recited in his head, the oldest of Weasleys who happened to be gifted in curse breaking and enchantments. He had helped Dumbledore with a bit of the setup of Grimmauld.  

“There not much yard in the front, but we got that covered under the protection shield,” Bill casually said with a sip of his butterbeer. 

The kitchen was buzzing with food and drinks and lots of chatter. Snape and Draco stood in the corner observing everyone. Lupin lightly interrupted the light chatter with a small announcement.  

“The meeting will start once Tonks and Shacklebolt arrive. Shouldn’t be long.” He gave a curt smile, his eyes lingering on Molly. Molly Weasley, Ron’s mother, immediately jumped into action to usher her children out of the kitchen. Draco didn’t need to be pulled along, with one stern look from Snape, Draco followed Molly Weasley out, pushing the lot up the stairs. 

“Up, you too,” Molly wheeled around and gently led Draco up with her children. She gave Draco a gentler smile than the warning glares she gave her children. She then pointed a finger at all of them as she ordered, “Don’t you dare think that you’ll be listening in on these meetings.” 

“Mum-” 

“I mean it George!” Molly huffed, “We will charm you into your rooms like prisoners if we have to, so don’t even try.” 

“We’ll stay in our rooms,” Ginny sighed, promising with no motivation to actually go through with her word.  

“Go,” Molly demanded, “And Draco, dear, Severus will be up with you after the meeting for your lesson.” 

“Take the dog,” Snape ordered. 

The five of them began to float up. Four pairs of eyes stared at Draco wanting him to explain. 

Explain what exactly, Draco didn’t know. It could have been the fact that he was a quiet spectator or that there must be a viable reason why Dumbledore needed him there this summer. Or they could have been curious about everything...  

Draco inwardly groaned when his mind traveled to what was in store for him once the meeting was over. No amount of envy could describe how much he rather be in Ron’s shoes at the moment, guarded and suspicious than to go through a lesson. Draco kept to himself while the Weasley clan split up on the fourth floor while Draco continued up the spiral stairs to the attic. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

It wasn’t difficult to fall asleep. Not after being mentally beaten to pulp by Snape. It was a relatively short lesson, one that Draco learned that total control could be done with one focused breath. Relived that they were going to just work on the final breathing technique, Draco grew confident that he understood the theory.  

The practice? 

That was a different story.  

It was like trying to stop a train with a barrier of twigs. 

It was very difficult to master. With Snape’s instructions, he asked Draco to lower his guard to feel how it would benefit him learning the grounding breathing technique.  

Even when Snape shouted the incantation, warning Draco and giving him a split second to react and perform the breathing, Snape would still wedge himself in his mind, recalling the four disapproving faces of the Weasleys, the most recent of his memories.  

It was even worse when Snape’s attacks were non verbal. All it took was the locking of their eyes and Draco crumbled being lightly examined by Snape, there was a flash of a long-ago memory of Draco’s father by the door of his study while Draco was receiving a fair punishment from his tutors when he was five.  

His cries were still echoing in his head when Snape released his grip on him.  

“Draco.” Snape warned rubbing his eyes in frustration. There was a slight burn at Draco’s cheeks that Aster licked showing him comfort. He whined in protest of seeing his partner in agony.  

Regarding the memory that sent Snape into a pensive pace, it certainly tipped Snape off that it was a memory that Draco had been buried and internalized, not for protection's sake but for Draco’s own sake.  

When he regained a bit of strength, Draco finally had the courage to look up at Snape, ready for another intrusion.  

Snape gave him a long look, hovering over him.  

“That will conclude today’s lesson.” Snape announced, placing a restorative vile in the loose grip of Draco’s hand. He cleared his throat, preparing to lecture Draco in all the wrong he had done and how he expected him to be so much farther along, except he didn’t say it.  

Draco’s ears perked when Snape took his lecture in a different direction.  

“Pay no mind to the opinions of the Weasley’s. You don’t have to jump through hoops and hurdles to prove yourself to anyone.” Snape went on. Draco nodded. He decided to focus on the Weasley memory. “Worrying about how the Weasley clan is whispering behind your back-” 

Draco heaved a sigh out, “Don’t really care if they don’t trust me, Dumbledore does. They will soon, won’t they?” 

Snape sighed observing the lack of energy in his student. Draco had begun to slump in his sitting position, his eyes drooping and exhausting him just trying to keep them open.  

Snape pitied him.  

“Drink your tonic. Clear your mind and breathe for a few minutes.” Snape muttered, lightly hitting Draco’s back to remind him to sit up straight. 

Draco didn’t protest, straightening out his back and closing his eyes after knocking back the cool liquid that tasted like fermented oranges. 

He breathed in and held his breath for a moment. 

He exhaled.  

Repeat. 

Before he went to bed, he gave Aster a bit of food and trudged over to his bed, unable (or unwilling) to shrug out of his day clothes to slip in the comfort of his pajamas. 

Draco was exhausted enough to knock out the moment his head hit the pillow. The first night he actually had a full night’s sleep. He only realized this discrepancy of time because Ron’s mother had taken the trip up to the attic and woke him up the next morning. 

He had slept in the clothes of the night before something Molly noticed but did not point out although concern was written all over her face.  

She, instead, asked if he would like a warm bit of breakfast before it got cold.  

He groggily accepted the comforting bit of food.  

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Living at Grimmauld meant that Draco had to quickly adjust to the rigid schedule... that was often toss out when it came to the Order to fit their last minute meetings. Otherwise, it was a normal summer day and any free time Draco had, he stuck his nose in a book. It wasn’t exactly the summer he wanted, but it was much better to have homework as an excuse than to help clear the home out. 

Molly Weasley didn’t give any of her children much of a choice, even Draco. It was either study or help her tackle each room so that they can accommodate more of the Order if needed.  

It really was a no brainer for Draco.  

He chose to study, not because he was lazy but because with the lack of magic he was restricted as an underaged wizard it would be manual labor. On top of having to do work without magic, Draco also had a tiny fear that he would fall behind in his fifth year causing his father to grow suspicious on how his summer went.  

The summers that he was suppose to be studying with tutors in order to be on top of his class.  

He couldn’t have his father go on a full inquiry on Draco’s whereabouts this summer if his performances began to suffer. It was a secret best kept within his mind. 

Draco focused on the assigned summer homework and kept busy. It was also the best way to avoid the Weasley glares anytime he would join them for a meal. Plus, he had the company of his books and Aster to pass the time. 

Draco would bring a scroll full of notes he’d review while he spooned in the most delicious soups or even a book to read. Draco would also purposefully join in late, so the Weasleys didn’t have to suffer too much with his silent presence.   

This particular evening Draco took down his transfiguration book to read over the very last chapter over a plate of sausage and mash, thinking of how to wrap up his essay on the Human to Animal Transformation Theory. 

When Ron got up, just as Draco sat down, he muttered, “Git.” 

It was not the worst thing Ron had called him this summer. Troll. Tosser... Even wanker was enough to make Fred and George smirk, not at the insult but at their brother who couldn’t be more upset at an unretaliating bystander. 

One late night, Draco was startled by the presence of Sirus Black leaning against the wall as he admired the library that Draco inhabited. He watched the ex-convict carefully from his desk saunter in running his fingered across the spines of the old books. Worried, Draco rose to his feet unsure.  

Aster on the other hand pranced over to greet Sirus, wagging it’s fluffy tail at him. 

It was hard for Draco to let go of the notion that he wasn’t an extremely dangerous person. After all, Sirus Black had been sentenced to Azkaban like his dearest insane aunt. But if it’s any help, Aster might have a better indication of who was a good person.  

“Library? They placed you in the attic, so you won’t go on and tattle on us, you know.” Sirus smirked, teasing, “And now you’re taking up the library? Little suspicious for a lil’ deatheather.” 

It could have bothered Draco more than it did, but he was more earnest to prove that he was innocently just minding his business. 

Draco blinked, “We’re on the second floor, nowhere near the kitchen.”  

Sirus lightly scoffed and shrugged, “I ought to thank you for cleaning it up. Throwing that sheet over the portrait of that miserable old bi-” 

“-Most of it was Mrs. Weasley.” Draco interjected, “And her family.” 

Sirus cracked his neck, a habit, Draco noted.  

“Well allow me to correct myself,” He pressed his lips together awkwardly, “I rather thank you then.” 

“What for?”  

Without hesitation, Sirus jumped into a quick explanation of his past. Draco heard a bit of the rivalry between Snape and what felt like a group of boisterous Gryffindors that Sirus belonged to. Not ashamed of breaking the family tradition of being sorted in Gryffindor, Sirus seemed to reminisce on his school years despite facing the beginning of his hardships. His family estrangement seemed to have boiled over to their adult years.  

“So, it’s nice to not be the only outcast here,” Sirus gave him a final curt smile, “Of course it’s not ideal but I think I could relate to what you’re going through. A tiny bit actually.” 

Sirus slowly paced around the library, looking at each moving painting until he landed on a portrait of three beautiful girls around the ages of five to ten. It was a rather small photograph, one that Draco hadn’t noticed at all.  

“Your mum,” Sirus began pointing to a familiar looking face, “She was the nicest cousin. I guess it was because we were closer in age.” 

Draco glanced at his mother’s childhood portrait, taking in her round youthful face and the sleek black hair. It was a stark difference from the two older sisters who had dark but wild long curly hair. The oldest had it pinned back in an elegant ponytail while Bellatrix’s hair took up half the portrait space.  

“Mum never mentioned you.” Draco quietly said to which Sirus responded with a halfhearted shrug. 

“Nobody really did after I was sorted into Gryffindor.” He sighed, leaning against the wall to really admire his cousins. Draco didn’t feel as threatened as Sirus grew quiet.  

Sirus had been staring at some shelves with old forgotten books and other bits and bobs as if he had been recalling memories within these walls. Draco wondered what it would be like to actually jump into someone’s head like Snape did, and see what Sirus was recalling. 

“My mother loved your mum and aunts.” He sighed out, “I suppose she wished for her own daughter but got me and Reg, instead. Not exactly the trophy sons considering their standards...” 

Sirus looked over his shoulders at Draco who was intently listening, his book closed with the scroll and quill marking the page he last read. 

“Your mum would sometimes babysit us up in the attic, you know. Along with ‘Meda.” 

Draco nodded, “That explains why I found the Witch Weekly’s from twenty years ago.” 

“Nah,” Sirus shook his head, “That was probably Reg’s.” 

Draco stopped himself from laughing but he did grin. 

Sirus who had been slowly pacing a circle around the library, smiled genuinely. A sense of warmth filled his face and Draco felt his guard come down, one he didn’t know he had up.  

“You aren’t so miserable to look at when you lighten up, you know?” He pointed out.  

Draco deflated, “Well, its awkward here.” 

“So why not make the best of a shitty situation?” Sirus shrugged, “Not like we can get out of here anytime soon.” 

Sirus slipped out a study thin book and studied the cover for a moment. 

“Ah, forgot this. James gifted me this joke book on my thirteenth birthday.” He blinked slowly, “He was a great friend. The Potters were great too, better than mine, that’s for sure.” 

Sirus glanced at Draco for a second and froze, “I heard you and Harry don’t see eye to eye on some stuff. A rivalry as famous as Snape’s and Potter’s.” 

Draco let out a snort, “Some? He's witless when it comes to bravery.” 

Sirus let out a loud dry laugh, “It’s a Gryffindor trademark, no doubt... and perhaps the biggest flaw. My family didn’t really appreciate my witlessness. I think my mum’s last straw was when I exchanged some galleons for pounds to buy an old motorcycle.” 

Draco stopped, his heart thumping as if his body was already excited for a word that he was still trying to remember what it was. It was until a deep rumble rattled in his memories Draco recalled the cool muggle bike that made noises and didn’t need the petals to make it work. 

Draco’s mouth hung open, “Wait you have one?” 

He was suddenly reeling about his last summer and how he desperately wanted to try riding a motorcycle despite Snape discouraging him.  

Sirus smirked and for a fraction he looked youthful and handsome. 

The older man lit up at Draco’s excitement. 

“Yeah, well... had . I had to give it away. Anyways when I first got it, it took me a while to fix it up,” He smirked, “Not exactly educated on the workings of a muggle vehicle but James and I learned from a book Remus stole from the muggle library. He was more bookish; James was the one with the idea to make it fly.” 

“Fly?” Draco felt his smile grow. He could absolutely envision Sirus Black sitting on his parked motorcycle with his long hair, smoking like Daphne, and looking cool.  

“Cool.” Draco whispered out, wondering if it was possible for him to do the same. Maybe Sirus Black could teach him something about fixing a motorcycle. 

“Would you like some of your things back? I came across a few boxes and junk in the attic and I thought about discarding a lot of stuff but-” 

Sirus Black looked solemn. 

“Well it’s probably not junk,” Draco corrected, “Not to you.” 

Sirius took a long inhale, looking around the room before shaking his head, “No, no. I have no connection to this place. It’s best to use this house as much as possible and once this is all over, burn the wretched place down.” 

Draco wanted to discuss more with Sirus but they were interrupted by Snape who, without warning took a sneak peek into Draco’s mind. He inwardly groaned at discovering that Draco was revisiting the motorcycle phase he had last summer. 

He sent a subtle glare at his school nemesis. 

“You’re putting ideas in his head.” He warned, “Lupin is asking for your help on the third floor. Molly suspects there’s a boggart in a closet and Kreacher isn’t being particularly helpful with the house keys." 

Sirus sighed, “Wretched elf.” 

Sirus Black sent a wink towards Draco and strutted past Snape who looked down on him in disdain. In the following second, he searched Draco’s memories and any trace, any clue of Sirus Black was gone.  

Snape narrowed his eyes at Draco, too. 

“I don’t know how you’re shutting me out so fast,” He drawled, “But I’m happy you’re improving.” 

Draco smugly smiled back at his professor.  

Snape raised his brow, “Attic. It’s time for lessons.”  

The nightly lesson became a dull painful blur. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Spending the mornings to alone in the attic allowed Draco a bit of respite, admiring the colors of the fractured light that split through the cut of the clear mosaic window as he laid in bed. The rays of sun would hit the window, spreading out ranges of colors throughout the room, making it the most spectacular way to wake up.  

Well, in comparison to the gritty Black home where every corner was dark and gloomy. At least the attic allowed sun to penetrate the constant darkness below him.  

It was a pleasant environment to read a few books for leisure and, at night, Draco swore he could see the universe through the distorted view of the window. Thinking of universes and stars and Hermione, Draco momentarily relived the time when he walked with Hermione from the Astronomy Tower. He laid in bed, with a book split open on his stomach and his arm propped under his head.  

He had stopped reading a while ago in favor of the large rose window, grinning like an idiot.  

“What’s with your face, Malfoy?” 

Torn from his blissful daydreams, Draco quickly sat up, the long-forgotten book tumbled to the ground. He was interrupted by a head poking in from the door  

Ginny’s flaming red hair was in steep contrast with the bleak walls of the attic at night. Ginny looked apprehensive, taking a step in as if she was doubting her own choice of entering Draco’s room. She was the first visitor Draco had besides Snape, oh and Sirus that first night in. 

Aster immediately greeted her by sniffing around her hoping for a bit of food.  

Ginny froze.  

“He’s looking for a treat.” Draco explained, “He’s harmless.” 

“Sadly, I don’t have any thing. Do you have a moment?” She asked, taking two careful steps in, patting Aster on the head to apologize. Her eyes flickered down at the abandoned book. 

“I have plenty,” Draco shrugged, swinging his legs off his bed. Draco scooped up his copy of Beauty and the Beast and tossed it light back on his bed.  

Ginny rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, taking in the living conditions of Draco. He could read it all over her face. His room must have been the nicest and that was not saying much. 

“I see who they prefer,” She grumbled, “Even in the worst conditions you still get the best room.” 

“You mean the cleanest. Snape helps me after lessons, I suppose he feels guilty.” Draco admitted, cringing at the fact that he’s had so much magical help with clearing out his room when the Weasley clan has been doing it manually. 

Ginny took in the information and nodded slowly.  

“Listen, I won’t beat around the bush so , here it goes. What are you doing here?” She asked directly.  

“You’re as subtle as a sledgehammer.” Draco scoffed.  

“I rather not get lost in pleasantries.” Ginny waved her hand as if the thought annoyed her. She recrossed her arms 

“I’m useful in some way.” Draco shrugged, “I don’t know exactly why I’m here. Dumbledore didn’t really go into detail other than it was a matter of convenience. I get to continue lessons with Snape, and I suppose that is all that matters. Does that answer your question?” 

Ginny bit her lip and screwed up her brows in thought.  

“What lessons?” She narrowed her eyes curiously.  

“I rather not say-” 

“Is it a secret?” Ginny jumped at trying to guess the reason why Draco was secluded and coy about his presence at Grimmauld. Her eyes glittered as if he was the key to some of the hidden truths about the Order. 

“No.” Draco simply answered. Watching Ginny roll her eyes up, reminded Draco of something that Dumbledore had said on his first night here.  

He needed to gain trust from the Order and, Draco assumed, everyone around them. It pained Draco to think that he would have to be more open with what he felt were foes before he got himself in a faff of a mess.  

He let out a forceful sigh. He needed to calculate how much he divulged. Draco assumed he couldn’t show all his cards and implicate Ginny in his own problems.  

“It’s,” Draco began, “It’s a bit embarrassing, if I’m honest.” 

Draco couldn’t see how he would even begin explaining the occlumency lessons and the reason behind it. Despite that, he thought he should give Ginny a bit more credit when it comes to understanding. She didn’t press on. Instead, she boldly approached him and sat at the foot of his bed.  

“Dumbledore?” She cocked her head, “You spoke to him then?” 

He shifted his grey eyes around, “Yes.” 

“And he told you all about the Order,” She said as more of a statement than a question to which Draco shrugged in response. 

“I don’t know, a bit I suppose," Draco frowned, “He said it was a secret group of specialized aurors.” He answered. Ginny looked rather displeased with what Draco had revealed, and it wasn’t much.  

“I was hoping you knew more,” She suddenly narrowed her eyes, “Unless you were promised to not share anything with me.” 

It was at this point when Draco became confused, “Why would you know less than me? You’re more trusted at this point, no?” 

“An underaged witch with an overprotective mother?” Ginny clarified and smirked, “No, I’m not allowed to know a single thing even if I did promise not to say a word. I don’t understand why we couldn’t stay at the Burrow instead. Dad and mum could easily apparate here.” 

Draco nodded, “Easy to keep an eye on us, I suppose.” 

Ginny huffed, “That’s what mum said but, then, you can’t be mad if you have a bunch of curious brats so close a secret society.” 

Draco smirked, “I think I found it easier to stay out of their way.” 

“Are you not curious at all?” Ginny cried out in desperation, as if the thought of being excluded was eating her alive.  

“Yes, obviously,” Draco snorted, “I just have other things I need to prioritize before I worry about what’s going on in the meetings.” 

Ginny frowned as she deflated.  

“And you won’t tell me what you’re prioritizing.” Ginny asked, hoping for even a bit of information as a consolation prize for trying.  

“Not now.” Draco assured.  

Silence.  

“Ron and Hermione received letters from Dumbledore but they refuse to share anything with me.” Ginny pipped up. 

Draco blinked, “Then I suppose it not worth mentioning or it best off to keep it to themselves.”  

Ginny, who was now studying the blonde closely, watched intently as he crossed over to his desk and placed the forgotten book on top of his actual schoolbooks. Draco made a note to shift the James B. Jones books out of sight from Ginny. He had just gotten them back from Snape and he was planning on cracking them open soon. 

“I understand Ron and Hermione promising to protect Harry,” Ginny began and Draco let out a long sigh because he knew what was coming. “But you? ” 

“I’m not here to help protect Harry, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Draco inwardly groaned. 

“Then why?” 

Draco wheeled around to find Ginny still sitting there, defiantly crossing her arms. She was persistent, a trait Draco could admire but didn’t really appreciate at the moment. He inhaled sharply. 

“I’m here to protect my own family, despite their unstable beliefs. I just want them to be safe entering the lion’s den.” Draco said in a monotoned voice, “Is that all?” 

Ginny was not known to be delicate in her approach, and Draco quickly found out the hard way.  

“Speaking of Hermione,” She trailed off, jumping to another subject.  

“Who was speaking of her?” Draco shook his head in disbelief. He would have thought Ginny would be introspective on his admission to his reason of being here.  

 Ginny continued, ignoring him, “Do you fancy her or something?” 

Draco’s eyes widened and he nearly choked on air.  

“W-what?” He sputtered.  

“Just a question,” She gave Draco a suspicious look while it felt like the truth was written all over Draco’s face.  

“She’s been talking about you more,” Ginny continued, “And she didn’t seem revolted when you walked her at night or even when you sat next to each other at the final task.” 

Draco winced at the flash of memory, seeing Cedric pop in his head. Ginny sensed a discomfort in Draco. 

“Everything okay?” 

Draco sighed out, “Yeah, just the Final Task... with Diggory.” 

“Sorry if that bothered you,” Ginny twisted her face in guilt, “I didn’t mean to bring it up. I didn’t know you cared for Diggory or...” 

“It’s just,” Draco shook his head, feeling sick from shoving that memory down. If he could blast himself with a memory charm to take Cedric’s blank eyes out of his mind, he would. “I can’t unsee him...” 

“So, you believe Harry then?” Ginny asked, her brows furrowing, “You’ve seen what they’ve been mentioning in the Daily Prophet, right? Making Harry seem unstable and all.” 

Draco shook his head, “I haven’t read what the Prophet’s been writing but I do believe him.” 

“Did you know?” She pressed on, her face hard and unrelenting, “That the games would be a way for Voldemort to get to him?” 

“No,” He quietly said, “Well, not exactly .” 

Ginny raised her brows and Draco knew she got him where she wanted him. In a corner with no other way to talk himself out of it. He could either dismiss her and she would have the impression that he had some hand in the situation or he could come clean.  

"I knew the DeathEaters were planning something, but it wasn’t very clear. It’s also not a big secret to tell you that it’s hardly their first attempt. And if I’m frank, I thought his return would be years down the line. Decades even. I wouldn’t have known they would be using the Tournament.” Draco rubbed his hands together to sooth himself, “I’ve did my best telling Dumbledore of what I knew the second I had the chance.” 

“Oh, Dumbledore,” She quietly said, “Yes, of course.” 

Ginny nodded slowly and a silence settled in. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as the silence Draco received during meals but it was still something he didn’t like.  

“And that’s how you gained his trust, then,” Ginny finished up, “Dumbledore’s.” 

Draco nodded slowly.  

“And these lesson with Snape?” 

“Is a shield,” Draco clarified, “So I don’t have to implicate my family to Voldemort while I help Dumbledore in any way I can.” 

“Oh.” 

Ginny pushed her mouth into a thin line, an appreciative smile, as she studied Draco who lingered in the middle of his attic.  

“I know Harry hates your family, especially after seeing your father in the graveyard,” Ginny said more to herself than to him, “But I think I can see what Hermione sees when she talks about you.” 

Draco froze, his heart raced for the mentioning of Hermione but another piece of information made that same heart drop. 

A what?  

“What do you mean what ? Hermione?” Ginny cocked her head, and it was then when Draco realized he had vocalized his inner thoughts.  

His face became flushed.  

That little disturbance in the night with Macnair and Goyle, father’s friends. It had solidify the information he had brought forth to Dumbledore. It was a legitimate bit of information.  

They had warned his father a while back, almost a year ago, with that specific detail and here it was again. Confirming Draco’s past concerns. Draco had told Dumbledore, why hadn’t he done something to stop it? 

Draco stood still, racking his brain for any other bit of information that he received from Sephina. Even if it was insignificant.  

If that detail had been correct, what else had he confided in Dumbledore that could be of use. Something that could clue him in, no matter how small it was. What was the next thing... 

Draco blinked fast as if it were to help with his memory... 

What was it?  

“Dumbledore is coming tomorrow morning,” Ginny announced looking at him carefully, “Maybe he can fill you in on more if you ask him. I know Hermione will have loads of questions.” 

Draco's lips parted when Ginny held in a smirk at the mentioning of Hermione. It was as if it all clicked in one flash of a second.  

Hermione , Trelawney, the future, and then to the Prophecies.  

The Department of Mysteries.  

Ginny slipped away bidding Draco a goodnight, leaving him in a tizzy.  

The difficulties which Draco had to go through to settle his mind just to make sure he had a bit of rest to be of sound in body in mind was frustrating.  

There was no tonic for Draco to take nor did he want to. His mind was reeling from all the questions he wanted to ask Dumbledore when the morning came. Draco had almost forgotten the tiny detail that Ginny gave him.  

Hermione was coming.  

His heart jolted in the thought of seeing her once more, away from the prying eyes of the student body. Draco was sure he wouldn’t be able to fully express wanting to be comfortable around Hermione, not without Snape scolding him for it. However, it didn’t dismiss the longing to see her around.  

It was these two things that contributed to Draco tossing and turning all night. His mind stormed, centering around the things his father had planned with the Department of Mysteries and Hermione’s glowing face.  

It felt like eternity waiting for the morning to come. Even when the slightest of echos piqued his interest, it invited him to jump out of bed to check on the smallest of noise.  

Most of the time it was Kreature popping in and out of the halls busy with work.  

At one point, Draco had dozed off only to be shaken out of his rest by a large thud. Draco was alert, straining his ear to listen. Hushed voices were heard, and Draco became elated that there was some activity. It wasn’t exactly morning just yet, but it didn’t stop Draco from rushing down flights of stairs. He used his hands to navigate himself down the stairs, nearly blinded by the intense darkness of the Black home when, out of nowhere, he bumped into a soft solid mass.  

A small shriek filled the air and he lost his balance. It was a blur of hair and hands that gripped tightly to his arms. Draco, with the quickness of his Seeker training, wrapped his arms around the small body and twisted their bodies around so he could bear the blunt hit of the fall.  

His face contorted, bracing for the many edges of the steps to hit his back but it never came. 

“ARRESTO MOMENTUM!”   

Their inevitable fall came to a softer thud at the second-floor landing. Draco’s eyes blinded him for a moment before the lines of a dark room came back into view. Still, there were circles of lights in his eyes that he tried to blink away.  

The soft fire from the library, that was just around the corner gave enough light for Draco to see Hermione’s terrified face hovering above him. Her face was imprinted in his mind when Draco realized it was her that he had been gripping tightly. He felt her erratic breathing against his chest and it was a feeling that tingled at his face. His veins were filled with fire and longing when his arms refused to loosen up.  

Draco’s eyes fluttered shut and his head rolled back, pain slowly sinking into his head with thoughts swirling around as he drifted into nothingness.  

Could he stay here forever? Would she let him?