fervere

Chapter Thirteen

“This is complete bullsh- unfair! I can’t even begin to imagine what Harry is thinking right now! Oh, if only I had saved up a bit to buy that book of magical decrees and law! I could have at least have something concrete to weigh in about Harry!” 

Hermione was madly pacing around Draco’s attic, nearly burning a hole through the wooden floors. Ron was splayed out on Draco’s neatly made bed absentmindedly petting Aster and staring at the ceiling.  

Ginny took a great deal of interest studying the ends of her hair while Fred and George focused on one of Draco’s dark art books. They would occasionally snort and point at something with a huge grin completely ignoring Hermione's rant. Draco on the other hand was fighting a losing battle giving into how much he liked when Hermione was on the edge of unleashing a not so innocent side. He actually wanted to see her mouth form the shapes of a filthy word. 

Draco cleared his throat, blinking his eyes back into focus.

“Why would you even have the interest in laws?” Ron softly groaned out, “It’s not even something we need to study at school.” 

Hermione whipped around in a mad haze, “Ronald! That is precisely the reason why we should at least have a class for it! For situations like this! History of Magic isn’t enough!” 

“It’s for SPEW, right?” Ron propped himself up and narrowed his eyes at his agitated friend. Both Draco and Ginny were sitting on the floor, resting their back against Draco’s bed, watching Hermione go through the motions of her intellectual madness. 

“What’s SPEW?” Draco innocently asked, leaning towards Ginny but keeping his sights on Hermione.

“The Society of the Protection of Elfish Welfare.” Ginny whispered to Draco, casting him a careful look as if to warn him not to engage her in another passion of hers that will lead to another two hours of her lecturing.  

“Protection?” Draco repeated, “For the House Elves?” 

“Their enslavement is completely barbaric!” Hermione passionately explained, her hair growing increasingly wild, “And the wizarding law to control sentient magical creatures... I wanted Wands and Order, A Guide to Magical Legislation so I could see how I can get S.P.E.W. to be taken more seriously.” 

“Perhaps a change of name would help,” Draco mumbled, causing Ginny to snort.  

“I’m serious!” Hermione stomped her foot. 

Ron yawned, “How long do you think they’ll take to get Harry?” 

Ginny shrugged, “Fred and George said mum is pretty diligent with the Imperturbable charm when they have meetings. Realistically, maybe by tomorrow? If it’s really urgent maybe by the morning.” 

The twins turned their attention away from the book over to them. George cleared his throat and pointed to the book in his hand.  

“Mind if we borrow this?” He casually asked in a way that didn’t seem so casual. Fred tried to keep his stoic face, unmoved, but the corners of his twitching lips failed him.  

“Fancy learning about the Dark Arts?” Ginny glared suspiciously at her brothers before they roared into laughter. 

“No, no.” George defended, “This book of Disfigurements is quite the page turner. Fred and I reckon that we can make a joke book full of ridiculous spells. There’s got to be someone daft enough to want to try and use these.” 

It seemed like Hermione was reignited in a new passion. She turned her blazing attention to the twins and marched over, snatching the book from them.  

“This is not something you both should be taking lightly!” She snapped. Fred managed to snatch the book back with ease. “You’re meddling with the kind of magic that should be avoided!” 

George rolled his eyes, “Says the girl who was eager to study them.” 

Fred grinned, "Perhaps because we don't have a insufferable face topped off with blonde hair."

The twins glanced over at Draco before announcing their good night. 

Hermione huffed out, "Bloody... wankers."

Draco covered his face to hide a grin that spread all over his face. 

"Keen observation," Ginny nodded, "Now imagine growing up with them."

Draco glanced at his watch and raised his brows, “It’s past midnight.” 

He could hardly believe he went through nearly two hours of Hermione ranting. Although, everyone had been completely drained from interacting with Hermione, it crossed Draco’s mind that perhaps he shouldn’t have been so enamored by it.  

Ron jumped up and grumbled under his breathing something about getting a snack, sensing a possible perfectly good excuse to leave after Fred and George’s departure. Ginny jumped up to join her brother.  

“Food sounds nice.” She quickly said, tailing her brother. Even Aster took the chance to happily pad alongside the Weasley bunch in hopes to get a bit of scraps. That left Hermione and Draco alone, truly alone, for the first time in a long time since Fred and George had teased them relentlessly. 

Draco almost expected Hermione to run out, perhaps blaming the time of night that it was but even the look on her uncomfortable face knew that if she did, she would make it more than obvious that she was avoiding being alone with Draco.

Draco wished Aster had stayed, that disloyal dog, it would have given him something to focus his attention on rather than take a great deal of notice of the silence that settled between them. Nevertheless, Draco did feel a bit tired. He stood up to stretch and threw himself on his own bed, exhausting the last of his energy to forcibly shove his face into his pillow before relaxing.  

Hermione chewed on her lip and, just like Draco predicted, she winced when the words came tumbling out. 

“It’s late, isn’t it?”  

Draco had already been reaching for a book on his nightstand when his cool gaze flickered over to her. He scooted up to sit up against the pillow he assaulted. He gave a lazy shrug to answer her, cracking open the book, “Suppose it is. Good night?” 

Hermione’s eyes lingered on the book.  

“Are you not going to sleep?” She asked noticing when Draco made no effort to climb into his bed. 

“Not yet.” He said, keeping focus on the book. It was one he had swiped from the Black Family Library. It was surprisingly an old book filled with folktales concerning the sky. Draco stuck his tongue into the side of his cheek forcing him to relax his face that was tired from grinning like an idiot. 

“Is that a fairytale book?” She piped, her head cocked to the side with intrigue swirling around in her eyes.  

Draco inhaled, “It’s... a collection of stories. Not sure what fairies have to do with it.” 

Hermione let out a soft chuckle, “I mean, it’s what we call magical legends in the muggle world.” 

“Oh,” Draco blinked stupidly, “Like, Beauty and the Beast?” 

Her mouth formed a shy but beautiful smile Draco was enchanted by. It was almost annoying how his mood swung around with hers, like the moon orbiting the earth.

“Precisely.” She took a few steps and sat at his side, lightly leaning against his leg he had bent up in comfort. Her eyes glossed over the cover to see what he was reading. It was then when it had dawned on Draco that it was easy to reel Hermione back in.  

Books were like waving raw meat in front of a starving dog to Hermione and as terrible as a comparison as that is, Draco realized that her need to learn something greatly outweighed her embarrassment of being teased.  

Even at school, when she had endured the worst of bullying from Draco himself, she couldn’t help herself from feeding that insatiable hunger for knowledge. He could have her attention back if he played his cards right. There was nothing he ached more for than her company and her hold of interest on him. The way her eyes would set on him and the way she’d press her lips together when she didn’t want to smile brightly at him when he surprised her... 

Draco was staring for too long again, he cleared his throat turning the book around. He pointed out the title.  

“This is, uh, the story of Ignara.” He introduced. Hermione reached out for the book and in one swift motion, she squeezed herself next to Draco to sit next to him. She also elbowed the poor pillow before settling down. 

“What’s that?” Hermione pointed to a few star shapes and lines connecting them on the introductory page, “Don’t tell me that is a constellation!” 

Her face glowed.  

“I had no idea that there is a magical version of constellations.” Hermione happily sighed out, “Professor Sinistra didn’t go over any other formations in the sky other than the ones I’ve learned in muggle...” 

She trailed off to glance at Draco who was already shaking his head. 

“Just- just this one,” He admitted, “Constellations are pretty much global, even in the wizarding world. The constellation Ignaris, on the other hand, is impossible to find.” 

“How so?” Hermione asked.  

“I don’t know,” He admitted after a long thoughtful pause, “I don’t think anyone has actually seen this constellation. Rumor has it, if anyone finds it then they’re cursed with the same fate of Ignara.” 

Hermione smiled, “Wait what’s the story?” 

Draco summarized the tale of a beautiful red phoenix, by the name of Ignara who lost its mate, and in search of her, he recruited the help of muggles who promised to help on one condition. 

“Which was?” Hermione raised her brow. 

“Give up it’s beautiful tail feathers,” Draco yawned, “That way they could use its magic, something they lacked, and be of more help to Ignara. What Ignara didn’t know was that his mate had already been captured and, also, deplumed of her magical feathers. But he agreed to give up his own feathers, nonetheless. He would have never suspected that the humans would be betray him and banish him to the sky so he wouldn’t seek revenge. But in doing so, allowed Ignara to come out every night to search for his mate.” 

“That’s cruel.” Hermione whispered. 

“There’s a lot of versions to the story but the one I grew up with and my personal favorite is that his mate left a nest of phoenix eggs to the one person Ignara trusted,” Draco gave a long look at Hermione, “A royal witch. Anne Boleyn?” 

Hermione blinked, “You’re joking.” 

Draco shrugged, “That’s what my father said. It’s just a story, of course, but I have it on good authority that once in a while, even the royal families of England were blessed with magic. I mean it was hard for them to perform any of it in front of others when they were constantly surrounded by their court, but that’s where my family became intertwined with nobility. Father said we were some of the first private scholars before Hogwarts was founded.” 

“But Hogwarts was founded in,” Hermione paused as if she was going through her incredible memory, “-in 990 A.D.” 

Draco winked, “For the rest of the magical population. Not like you can send Royals away. They barely interact with commoners now, I think you can imagine how secluded they were a thousand years ago.” 

Hermione laughed in disbelief, “I swear you’re making this up! There’s no way a royal family could... The implications.” 

Draco nodded in agreement, “Oh yes, a few decades back the Russian’s had their hands full trying to hide Rasputin. He was an interesting wizard to say the least.” 

Hermione, being more intellectual over muggle history, shook her head and another laugh of disbelief left her lips, “Not the Romanovs.” 

Draco nodded, “I believe two of the princesses were squibs but Anatasia was gifted in charms like her mother. The youngest boy had a magical blood malady any magic he conjured was quite harmful fo rhim. Quite unfortunate.” 

Hermione blinked before she released a gasp, “Wow. If it’s true, then... wow.” 

Draco smirked, pulled the book gently back in his hands, “It absolutely is, not that the Ministry would admit to it. I don’t think the muggle leaders would be so keen to see such political power be in the hands of someone who can perform magic beyond their imaginations. But, it’s in our family records. At least, my family can trace it-” 

The look on Hermione’s face stopped Draco from continuing. Her brows were knitted up in wonder as if she was finally seeing a slice of him and just the way she held his gaze, gentle and soft. His breath was hitched, caught in his throat. They were sitting side by side, their arms pressed comfortably against each other and a dazzling thought crossed Draco’s mind. 

He could kiss her.  

She was only a few inches away. 

He could have if the moment wasn’t stolen from him. Ginny’s recognizable stomps were heard heading up to the attic and a few seconds later her head poked into Draco’s room.  

“You just got an owl from Vi-”  

Hermione jumped immediately and rushed pasted Ginny, “Coming!” 

Ginny cast a confused look at Draco before Aster happily trotted in, content with his own late snack. He jumped into bed to let out a howling yawn. Hermione rushed out, pulling Ginny down with her. Perhaps snogging would be best left for another day.  

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Harry's arrival came with as much drama as Draco had expected. Mr and Mrs. Weasley were so relieved to had him around. Ron and Hermione tried their best to welcome their very confused friend, and once Harry's brilliant grean eyes landed on Draco, who was descending from the second floor, on his way to grab a glass of cool lemonade, all hell broke loose. Harry went into a fit of rage and then the appearance of Snape didn't makde it any better, although it did confuse him. Remus pulled him into a room and Sirus followed behind. It only took a full ten minutes before Harry came out, looking not at all happy with the current arrangements but had no other choice but to accept it.

As much skepticism Harry had in Draco, it annoyed Harry to learn that Dumbledore had full confidence in him and Snape.

It took forms of audible exasperated sighs anytime Draco would join them for a meal, or even actively ignoring anything Draco would say.  Despite his obvious disdain for Draco, it still paled in comparison to the annoyance Harry visibly felt seeing Draco and Hermione share a laugh or Ron follow Draco around to ask him about their summer work after Hermione refused to help him.  

Draco didn’t expect Harry and him to become fast friends but most of the time Harry was out right rude to Draco so, naturally, Draco thought Harry a prick.  

Feeling the betrayal of his friends, Harry spent most of his time shadowing Sirus Black, his godfather, as if they were a team. Ron would trail behind them trying to get Harry to do normal things like read wizard comic books or play exploding snaps. Ron’s efforts in trying his best to keep Harry company were mostly in vain. Ron was slighted once... maybe four times a day by Harry.  

Hermione and Ginny would also attempt to join the motley crew, but it was only because they were giggling at Sirus Black who had a knack for making them blush.  

Draco wasn’t sure exactly what the appeal was. Sirus Black was significantly older than them with a tired and worn out face, framed with thick wavy hair he’d pull up into a bun. However Draco felt he couldn’t deny one thing; the neck tattoos from Azkaban were admittedly cool. 

Staring at him one day while he interacted with Harry in the library, Draco was reminded of the lads who would ride motorcycles and then the wondering was gone.  

Sirus was cool.  

And something Draco couldn’t emulate. By default, he felt frigid and cold like his father and when his defenses were down he was nowhere near the infamous charm of the Black family. Hermione was intrigued too. She was also in the library, comfortably draped over a handsome armchair, with a book in her lap and a cheesy grin on her face. It seem like she was whispering something to Ginny, something Draco wanted to know. 

Draco ripped his eyes off of Hermione once he felt the sting of Harry’s glare. The moody boy stood up and marched over to the two heavy doors of the library to slam it in Draco’s face. The slam echoed down and caused a small poof of dust to rise between the floorboards. Draco had simply walked by, heading up to his own room when the sight of them caught his attention.  

If he hadn’t been so magnetized with curiosity of what Hermione was up to, he wouldn’t have paused for those three seconds when he was reeled in by the crook of her smile. 

Or was it three minutes? 

Considering officially being ousted, the book in Draco’s hand reminded him of what he had set out to do and he continued walking down. Draco landed himself in a room with both Professor Lupin and Arthur Weasley. After the inevitable discovery of Draco’s Dark Art books were brought to the attention of the Order by Snape, Mr. Weasley grew a tad bit curious on the subject.  

With the support of Lupin, Draco tried to explain to the best of his abilities some unknown magic that was cause of concern to the order.  

“There are these blinding charms, I’ve read about...” Draco mumbled out, thumbing through the pages of one of his book, “I don’t think it’s ever been used because it’s never been perfected. Most of James B. Jones work is based on theory. So it’s hard to say if anyone has successfully achieved any of the spells.” 

“Why is that?” Arthur Weasley stood behind Draco, reading over his shoulder and the material that he was pointing out. Draco didn’t really like looking at the dissections of eyes and the moving illustrations of what the spell would be like if it worked.  

Lupin, who was staring out the window as if he appreciated all the nights that weren't a full moon, let out a small huff.  

“Aside from being the pure fantasy of a dark sadistic wizard?” Lupin stuck his tongue into his cheek, as if he was mildly impressed with the conversation he was having with a teenager, “What would happen if it did work Draco?” 

Draco felt a bit of pride being asked for his opinion, especially from an old professor like Lupin. It was as if he wasn’t looking at him like a student but more like an apprentice, guiding him through the untapped knowledge that Draco had.  

“This spell in particular would cause the eyes to shrivel up, rendering them blind,” Draco chewed on his lip, “I’m not quite sure why the spell hasn’t been perfected, it could be the pronunciation or the wand movement, but if it has...” 

“What do you think Remus?” Arthur Weasley nervously asked.  

“Well,” Draco cut in, “It’s hard to say. I mean, there could be countless spells and potions in these books that work, and we wouldn’t know. And that’s the best case scenario.” 

“At best?” Arthur repeated, astonished that he hadn’t considered the worst, as if new dark spells weren’t bad enough. 

“At worst,” Lupin jumped in, suddenly pacing around, “The theory backfires and we are left to deal with something with no structure or way to counteract it. Tried and true spells are approved by the Ministry because it is proven to work time and time again. Even the Unforgivable spells have gone through the Ministry because without their acknowledgement, then it would be impossible to set up laws against them.” 

Mr. Weasley sighed, “And these fantasy spells, as you put it, cannot be processed through the Ministry based on theory alone. They have to show recorded consistent performance.” 

Draco nodded, “I think a lot of these spells are impossible to perform, if I’m being quite honest, but all it really takes is someone who is willing and delusional enough to try and we might have something volatile on our hands.” 

“Shall we bring it up in the next meeting?” Arthur looked up at Lupin who gave an assuring smile at Draco.  

“Sure.”  

“Alright, then,” Arthur Weasley, “After Harry’s trial tomorrow we can take a crack at it.” 

Remus swiped his hair out of his eyes and motioned over to Draco with his hand, “Why not have Draco?” 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

“Thank you Draco, dear,” Mrs. Weasley warmly said suddenly at his side and looking back at the Order. A few of them were exchanging looks while Snape rubbed his temples. 

“Should I go now?” Draco whispered over to Mrs. Weasley, who was eager to have him out of the meeting as soon as possible. Granted, Draco was still not allowed to know anything about the workings of their plans, but Mr. Weasley thought it was a good idea to have Draco come in and explain a potential threat to the Order and then be pushed out for them to deliberate. 

Tonks, an Order member, wasn’t too impressed, “Didn’t they have the same information in the first war? Why would it be different now?” 

“Perhaps the desperation of needing to win this time can lead to some foolish decisions.” Professor Lupin let out a long sigh, “That is a big difference, if you ask me.” 

Shacklebolt, a strong burly looking wizard, had his hands clapped together placed over his mouth like he was praying.  

“Would they toy around with the ideas of some crackpot like James B. Jones?” Kingsley Shacklebolt asked, “If it’s based purely on theory and even some of their best have no interest, would they waste their time on spells that don’t even work.” 

“They do,” Snape cut in with his dry voice. All heads turned to him. Even Draco, who had only speculated about the dangerous of unstable spells, didn’t expect any of them to actually work.  

Snape stood up and narrowed his eyes at Draco, “Out.” 

There was not a second wasted the moment the order was given. Draco had overstayed his welcome in the meeting and Mrs. Weasley, who was not convinced that Draco’s presence was needed, was happy to escort him out.  

Before Draco could even verbally agree to leave, he was already kicked out, outside of the barrier of silencing charms placed around the kitchen. Draco took his loss and was about to head back up to his room when he bumped into a very heated Harry.  

“Getting enough information to pass along to you father, have you?” Harry huffed out, nearly knocking Draco over with his advancement. Draco had dodged Harry’s second shove and jumped over to the first step of the stairs out of reach.  

Seeing the rage seethe in his eyes caught Draco off guard. He would have thought that the outcome of Harry’s morning trial would have calmed him down a bit, but it was perhaps a perfectly nonsensical reason to have Harry throttle Draco who innocently just left an Order meeting. 

Like magic, Ron and Hermione appeared at Harry’s side holding him back from attacking Draco.  

“Harry listen-” 

“I don’t want to Ron!” Harry bellowed, “It’s bad enough he’s here and you both making it seem like it’s not a big deal. Yet, he’s in the Order, something we can’t even listen in on-” 

“I'm not in the Order.” Draco quietly added in, giving Harry a look of indignation. The way Harry would jump to conclusion was outstanding. It really ought to be studied.  

Ron snorted, “Well none of us actually believe you’re in it, mate, it’s more the principle, you know?” 

“Mate?” Harry repeated incredulously, whirling around to his red-headed friend. Ron took a step back from Harry, startled at his reaction of his slip up. Clearly their friendship was on rocky grounds.  

Hermione stepped in front of Harry, blocking him from Draco.  

“For Merlin’s sake, Harry, think!” She pleaded, “If he’s here you know he serves a purpose. A big one. Dumbledore sees value in Draco. Even the Order sees it! If he didn’t, he wouldn't be here.” 

Hermione looked over her shoulder and Draco gave her a thankful nod, though he felt a bit of shame not being able to stick up for himself (which he was perfectly capable of doing).  

Something in Harry’s eyes shifted, causing a strange but violent flip of Draco's stomach. It felt like a violent punch to the gut and he immediately dropped down to sit on the steps, clutching the wash of sickness in his stomach. It was as if the grip of fear took hold of him and wouldn't let go. Draco could only describe it as facing death.

“You think him more important?” Harry roared, “More than someone who actually has to face Voldemort one day, do you?” 

Hermione gapped, stunned at his reaction. 

“H-Harry,” Hermione begged. 

Harry scoffed, “Why are you defending him?” 

“I’m not!” Hermione raised her voice.  

“You kinda are,” Ron admitted, quietly. Both Hermione and Draco, who was still reeling from the sudden onset of sickness, turned to glare at Ron. Harry continued on his rampage.  

“Even during the tournament,” Harry pointed at her accusingly, “You sat there and had me listen to your brainwashed tales of Malfoy and how he was trying to help.” 

“He did!” Hermione shouted.  

Ron winced to confirm, “He kinda did, Harry.” 

Harry shot a glare at his friend to which Ron shrugged it off, hands up in defense.

“Well Hermione told me about him, too!” Ron argued, “And, well, he has a lot to lose just being here, doesn’t he... if you think about it.” 

Thankfully, Draco felt a weight lift off him and felt steady enough to rise back up. The sickness was gone and his mental barrier was up. It was a startling kind of incident he had just suffered in silence but he was simply glad it was now over. Now with his mind cleared, Draco slowly grabbed Hermione’s wrist and pulled her behind him. He certainly might have allowed Harry push him around but he didn’t need to have Hermione be his shield for Harry’s outburst.  

Draco lifted his chin, defiantly at Harry.  

“I don’t expect you to understand, Potter,” Draco glared, “But the world isn’t black and white. At least it isn’t for me so, my sincerest apologies that I can’t be a saint like you are. Some if us find it a bit more complicated to be shade of white without smearing the lines.” 

“Fuck off,” Harry hissed, “And go back to your Death Eater father.” 

It was as if Hermione already anticipated that Draco was about to lunge. Her grip on his arm was iron clad for a small girl. Draco could hear her repeat some words but ultimately the slight scuffle was interrupted by the end of the Order’s meeting.  

They seemed surprised coming upon the slight stand off near the kitchen. Sirus seemed to glow in curiosity while Snape glowered at his pupil who was being held back by the very weakness that brought him here in the first place. Draco was the first to relax, fully knowing that he would be punished for this later.  

Harry sneered at Draco and pushed his friends away. He marched up to Mr. Weasley and demanded to know what was going on. It was a slew of demands of needing to know since he was the one who saw Voldemort return.  

Draco didn’t bother to stick around. He floated back up to his attic with thoughts whirling around in his head. 

Draco had already suspected it but it was satisfying to know that Harry was nutter when it came to loyalty and fighting for good. Draco sneered at the embodiment of Gryffindor running through Harry’s veins because it was so cliché of him. The hero complex.  

“How tragic of him,’’ Draco thought as he took refuge in his room. 

And it truly did seem like a tragedy once the second half of the summer started, cooped up in Grimmauld Place with no other place to go.  

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Draco observed in silence the now shaky relationship of the trio.

Instead of trying to enjoy his summer with his friends, Harry would saunter off with his godfather or lock himself up in a room, effectively kicking Ron out. 

Hermione attempted to coax Harry out so spend time together, but Ron gave up after the first day of being locked out of the room he shared with Harry. Ron spent one night sleeping on the floor of the library before he pushed his pride aside and asked Draco if he minded sharing the attic.  

For the time being, of course. 

Molly Weasley was kind enough to help them widen the bed with an extendable charm, which pulled the bed large enough to fit three bodies (and one dog) comfortably.  

Despite the odd sleeping arrangements, Draco went about his summer as normally as possible, feeling like a sore thumb amongst the Order. When Snape wasn’t around for lessons or when Ron was off trying to cheer Harry up, Draco maintained to himself reading his books. 

Draco would often see Ron looking displeased, begging Hermione to slip Harry a mood tonic so that the entire upper floors would have a moment of respite from Harry’s sour attitude.  

Hermione, who was frequently found lending Molly Weasley a helping hand, always declined.  

“He’s probably stressed about the Ministry and about Voldemort. He needs time to relax.” She repeated the same explanation after the fifth time Ron tried to bribe her. She shooed him off with her ladle and a sauce pan as her weapon, “Now leave me alone, your mother is helping me cook.” 

Draco supposed it was Hermione’s excuse to not be around Harry, by looking busy. He couldn’t blame her, really. Harry was a walking dark cloud storming around, impossible to predict if he was going to strike a heated argument or just release a small gentle shower of grumbles. Draco was also keenly aware that his presence was a trigger to Harry’s moods, so he tried his best to avoid him. 

For everyone’s sake. 

As odd as his summer was, it was strangely comforting to Draco the trials of having to balance so many people consistently coming and going, unexpected visitors at times, and having such a rambunctious and lively atmosphere be a part of his everyday now. There was something special about egging on fights between the twins, dodging Ginny’s jinxes, Ron talking Draco’s ear off at night, and Hermione filling a void in his life that Draco didn’t realize was there. 

It was almost like being part of a family.  

He felt that spark during dinners as he quietly ate (avoiding drawing attention to himself), it was the best reminder at the end of the day, of the tiny moments that continue to accumulate in his memory. Perhaps he’d have to protect these memories soon too, but for now, Draco cherished the loving chaos because he knew it wouldn’t last. 

It couldn’t. 

The food was always delicious and something to look forward to, well it was the best excuse to voice out to not cast any suspicion on Draco, who constantly found himself drifting into the kitchen for a quick bite. Or see if Ron was in there to have someone ride out the wave of boredom he had up in the attic.  

“Down here again,” Ginny smirked, ripping into an apple, watching Draco linger at the kitchen entrance.  

Crap, Draco thought. It would have been much easier to have found Ron down here. He was easier to fool. 

Ginny? Not so much, and sensing that knowing look on her smug face, Draco was quite sure Ginny knew exactly what he was doing. 

Ginny chewed her apple haughtily as she cast a look towards Hermione who was listening to Mrs. Weasley about braising a roast. Draco always seemed to float down to the kitchens without meaning to, being called by the richness of a well cooked meal,  

“You can’t be hungry already. I just put the cleaned plates away, cousin.” Ginny gave an audible and dramatic sigh. The corner of Draco’s mouth twitched, desperately wanting to scowl.  

“Third cousins.” Draco hissed at her, with no malice in his tone, “And I need a snack.” 

“Fourth, once removed,” She corrected, before she approached him, bumping into him lightly as she made her way out, “Don’t let your eyes feast, you need to have room for dinner.” 

Ginny skipped off, leaving Draco awkwardly standing there at a distance from the two bodies hovering over what smelled like a marvelous roast. He would have chased Ginny out but he stayed put for two reasons. First, he didn’t want to put himself at risk for a Ginny Jinx. Second, Draco wouldn’t dare to waste his precious time when he could be hanging out with Hermione.  

Mrs. Weasley noticed him first. 

“Draco, Sweetheart,” Mrs. Weasley greeted. Ginny’s snort echoed down from the floor above. “C’mere, darling. Come try the roast.” 

Hermione twisted around and politely smiled at him, “Oh! Draco, you’re here.” 

“Yeah, I wanted to see if there were any apples left,” Draco lied, when in reality his reason was staring right at him, “But seeing how Ginny eats most of it, it’s kind of a fruitless endeavor.” 

Hermione winced.  

“Oh, she’s been rubbing off on you,” She whispered, disapproving of the pun. 

“Shut up!” Ginny yelled from just outside the kitchen, almost as if she was purposefully spying. Mrs. Weasley paid no attention to her youngest and pulled Draco towards the stove. She pointed out the several dishes they had made. 

“It’s Hermione’s first roast,” Mrs. Weasley proudly said, “Absolutely no help from me. I said she’s done splendidly but she doesn’t believe me.” 

Hermione reached for a fork inside a drawer 

“Do you want to try the roast,” Hermione asked. 

Draco nodded earnestly.  

“Okay,” She said and poked at the large pot with a fork, pulling out a bit of meat, “But you have to be honest with me.” 

She cupped a hand under the fork, bringing the bite to Draco. She beckoned him to try. Draco kept his eyes on her large wondering ones, taking the offering into his mouth. His mouth exploded with warm flavors, tingling his cheeks with spices. It was all made better by the slight yearning in her eyes, wanting to please with a perfect roast. 

“Well?” She cocked her head, waiting for a response.  

Draco chewed on his bottom lip, “Awful.” 

Hermione’s face dropped, even Mrs. Weasley turned around shocked. 

“In fact,” Draco continued, clearing his throat, “If you don’t mind, I can take this up to my room to hide it. No reason why anyone else should have to taste this. Definitely, not worth it.” 

Draco took her fork and took another small bite nodding his head, and then immediately shaking it. 

“This will not do,” He grinned, “Don’t mind me, I’ll take this off your hands.” 

Draco smiled, reaching for the pot. Hermione, immediately picking up on his humor, slapped his hands away.  

“You’re awful,” She sighed out, slumping against the countertops. Mrs. Weasley let out a small laugh and pointed at Hermione.  

“You see?” She shrugged, “I told you, you had nothing to worry about.” 

“He hasn’t really said anything positive either,” Hermione pouted.  

“She’s quite demanding, isn’t she?” Draco joked, “You’d think a raving review from you, Mrs. Weasley would be enough.” 

Hermione sighed, “Well adults are too polite, and Ronald eats anything, so it’s not like I have a stable gauge on how I did.” 

Hermione glanced at Draco still looking for an ounce of deception, but he assured her that it was a decent meal.  

“I didn’t gag.” He laughed, earning himself a well-deserved slap on the shoulder.  

Draco looked forward to dinner that night. He took some time to help set the table and made sure that he was sitting in the most optimal seat so he could get a good view of Hermione without raising suspicions from the twins.  

Not like Draco needed to be teased in front of Snape who had just returned from what looked like a rough day. 

She had to be within his view to keep his heart content, but not so much where it was obvious he was staring. Sitting next to her was also out of the question once Snape strode in, peering at the pots and pans at the stove. 

The large table was overcrowded with people that evening. The chatter of about fifteen people ebbed and flowed, laughter rising every once in a while, from three different conversations going on. It was a stark difference between the meals he had with his own family. Despite not participating in most of the conversation, Draco could feel the happiness radiating from the gathering. Even Harry’s gloomy face wasn’t enough to deter Draco from sending Hermione another glance.  

This time she caught him from the end of the table. She smiled at him and Draco sent a smile back. Pleased with the silent interaction, Draco took a big bite of his roast. He made the grave mistake of locking eyes with Snape who shot through his mind, quickly seeing the most recent memories that Draco hadn’t been able to hide yet and one in particular of Hermione’s face hovering over him, in dim light with flushed cheeks.  

It was only fresh on his mind because Draco allowed himself the pleasure of reminding himself how she felt on him. He wanted to mix the look of yearning in her eyes from earlier that day with that particular moment, but it was impossible.  

“Out Draco,” Snape suddenly stood up, and the Order and the rest looked at the pair curiously. Ron whispered ever so subtly to Harry.  

“Did you see his head lull back? Mate looked possessed.”  

Draco closed his eyes and got up slowly, embarrassment burning at his cheeks. He wordlessly followed Snape out, silence and stares nearly pushing him out. He felt his fist tightening up into a ball in anger. Draco wasn’t exactly sure if he was angry at himself or at Snape for intruding, but nevertheless, he was angry. The moment they were halfway up the stairs, Snape shoved Draco against the wall.  

“What did I say!” He hissed lowly, “You cannot-” 

He shouldered him off, “It’s fine! It is all under control” 

“Is it?” He scoffed, “A comical bump in and then hours of staring at Wand Whisperers’ isn’t exactly control. Or do you think I didn’t notice that you smuggled your filthy magazines in between your schoolbooks.” 

Draco felt the heat radiate up to his neck. He gritted his teeth, inhaling and exhaling techniques, rearranging his memories that Draco wasn’t ready to put away just yet, but he also wasn’t going to be accused of not trying. Not when every lesson with Snape felt like an impossible task, he seemed to always survive. 

He slowly inhaled, then exhaled. Just like he was trained.  

“Try again.” Draco scoffed, “Find her.” 

Not one to back down, Snape drilled himself once more into his mind and after a few grueling moments of exhausting avoidance, Snape let go of Draco, puzzled. It was a quick sweep, but the memories that were quite clear a few moments ago over dinner were not there. Draco slumped against the banister, feeling tired and gasped out for air.  

Like he had held his breath from an icy plunge. 

It was an intense type of will keeping Snape out of his mind, but to hide his memories Snape knew were there, was an entirely different strength.  

It sucked the last bit of energy Draco had to argue back. He knew if this would extend into an impromptu lesson, Draco needed to conserve every drop of energy to survive the lesson.  

Lucky for Draco, as unsatisfied as Snape was with his pupil, he went back to dinner grumbling under his breath. Draco hung onto the wall for a moment trying to catch his breath. 

He could feel his forehead dotting in sweat from the cold chill. That’s what Snape’s intrusions felt like; like the beginnings of a very bad case of the flu.  

“Draco?” 

Draco eyes fluttered up at the sound of her sweet voice.  

Wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, Draco cleared his throat quickly gaining some sense of composure as she poked her head around the wall from the bottom of the kitchen stairs. Draco felt a bit ill but continued breathing when she began carefully climbing up a few steps, apprehensive to approach him.  

“Are you okay?” She asked, “You look terrible.” 

"I’m fine, thanks,” Draco took the time to vigorously rub his face to make him feel more alive. More reactive. 

She stared at him for a long stretch of silence. Draco really wish he could run up the stairs to escape the line of questions he could see swirling in Hermione’s eyes, but he was sure by the time he would get to the attic, he’d just collapse on the bed. 

“What is it that Professor Snape does to you?” She asked, a tinge of concern filled her face, “Does it hurt when he... does whatever it is that he does.” 

Draco closed his eyes, his head now leaning against the wall. It wouldn’t have been so mad if his knees didn’t threaten to buckle under his weight.  

“Professor Snape is a gifted legilimence,” He informed, “It means that he could barge into the minds of people without the use of a wand or an incantation.” 

“Is that what he does to you?” She said in an astonished tone, “Ronald was saying you look like you’re punched the way your head goes back.” 

Draco let out a tired laugh, “If he catches me off guard then it looks pretty much like that.” 

Hermione paused and kept her eyes on the recovering boy.  

“Why? What’s it for?” She innocently asked. Draco took three long breaths, really focusing on recuperating his strength. Once he gained an ounce back, he finally had enough in him to respond to her. 

“With the practice of legilimency, there’s a counter to it called occlumency.” Draco reached a weak hand up to his forehead, feeling how clammy he was, “Snape’s been teaching me since the end of third year how to fight back against legilimency.” 

“But why?” 

Draco smiled meekly at her, “You know there’s another particularly dangerous person who is a gifted legilimence.” 

Hermione’s doll like features fell in realization. Her mouth gaping at the new information, something she knew was worthy enough to tell Potter. She made a small movement to run back to her friend, but Draco’s hand was quicker. He had a gentle hold of her shoulder to keep her in place before she fled.   

“He’s been training me in hopes that, if needed, I could shut Voldemortout of places and memories he could easily use against my family. Protect The Order and, well, you.” 

“Me?” She whispered out. 

Draco let out a long sigh, “Well you are a part of the terrible trio, are you not?” 

Slowly but surely, Draco felt enough energy to take himself up a few steps back towards the first floor. At this rate, Draco was sure to reach the attic in an hour. 

Hermione looked terrified, “How does it work?” 

“How does what work?” Draco asked, two more steps up. He could hear Hermione following closely behind him without having to look over his shoulder. He still stole a glance and smirked. 

“The thing Professor Snape does to you,” She clarified, now at his side, “The legim- that thing you said.” 

“Legilimency,” He sighed out, “Eye contact. It’s the only way one can dive into someone’s minds without having a wand or use an incantation. There is a spell for it but it is not as criminally invasive as going wandless. If you ask me, it borders on being the fourth Unforgivable Spell.” 

Draco intently looked at her, and Hermione immediately closed her eyes causing him to chuckle. 

“Don’t worry Granger. I respect your privacy. And to correct you, I said I knew a bit about occlumency. Not legilimency. I wouldn’t know the first thing about diving into other people's minds.” 

She deflated, “Oh good... there’s several embarrassing things I couldn’t bare to have you see.” 

She let out a nervous giggle and Draco felt his soul collapse at her jumpy behavior. Maybe he really did want to jump into her head and see what she was so protective about. Draco’s mood dampened as his mind stormed at Hermione’s secrets. It was a slow ascend but they finally reached the first floor and they stood there, not knowing what to say next exactly.  

“Did you eat well?” Draco asked suddenly, trying to fix his darkened face.  

Hermione smiled, “Yes, I had enough. How about you?” 

Draco shook his head, “I don’t have much of an appetite when Snape forces himself in my mind.” 

Hermione nodded, looking a bit unsure after a brief moment of silence. It brought them a bit of clarity that they were speaking cordially to each other unlike before when they were children. It was a stark contrast to the past, where Draco would send an insult or two her way and, more often than not, she would ignore him.  

“Do you wanna hang out for a bit?” Draco asked, understanding the risk that he would face if Snape overheard him or even found a hint about his intentions in his mind. However, the slight interest that Hermione desperately tried to hide was well worth it when she played coy and nodded slightly to accept his offer.  

They both slowly made their way up five stories up to find refuge in the little attic of Draco’s. And that’s how they spent the rest of their remaining weeks together.  

Much to the disapproval of Snape, Draco and Hermione were often seen together along with Aster’s wagging tail at their feet. Even with the teasing of the twins, Harry’s constant grumbling disapproval, and the odd remarks from some of the Order, it was something Snape couldn’t lecture Draco on in front of others.  

Despite witnessing them together countless of times around Grimmald, Snape could not find a single instance of Hermione in Draco’s head during their lessons.  

None that was incriminating, that is.  

What was more suspicious was the flashes of Potter Snape would see in Draco’s head. There was something off about Harry and once in a while Draco would study him from across the room. Draco could have sworn there were times he could tell there was a subtle shift in his eyes voiding him of the annoying pragmatic person Harry was.  

Harry became even more secluded 

“Bin’ kinda moody,” Ron explained with a yawn one night after crawling into an extended bed with Draco. The attic was dark but noisy with the constant pitter patter of a late summer rain. It was hard to settle into sleep. Draco did point out that Harry mostly maintained his free time with Sirus Black, even to a point where Ron felt shunned out. Draco found it strange that Ron was now pouring his thoughts onto Draco most of their nights together.  

"Kinda?" Draco snorted.

“You know, ever since he kicked me out, you’d think that he was his best mate,” He grumbled into his pillow, referring to Sirus Black, “Seriously, Sirus can’t be that much better of a friend. He’s old!” 

“Well he does ride a motorcycle,” Draco pointed out, yawning and soon falling asleep. If he thought his worries about Sirus Black would end there, Draco was wrong. Ron brought him up the next day after Harry had snubbed them and joined Sirus in his room for his breakfast tea.  

Draco smiled at Molly Weasley who picked up his plate after a second helping of porridge. He found himself half listening to Ron’s complaints while slowly peeling an orange from the center fruit basket. 

Hermione and Ginny exchanged looks, lips tightening making it more obvious they were holding in a smile as Ron ranted on. Still the snort had not gone unnoticed by Ron who perked up.  

“What?” He frowned, “What’s with the looks?” 

Ginny sighed, “Well Sirus is like a cool older cousin.” 

“You’re disgusting. He’s well over thirty!” Ron raised his voice, clearly bothered by being replaced.  

Ginny pointed at Draco who was minding his own business, “Well doesn’t stop Draco from hanging around Snape and he's thirty-something, too.” 

Draco made a face, “I don’t hang around Snape. He’s teaching me.” 

Ron ignored the derailment of the conversation, “Yeah, well, what’s he got that I don’t?” 

“Stories about Harry’s parents?” 

“A criminal history.” 

“Long hair and tattoos?” 

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other again. Even Draco took note this time.  

“What’s with the blushing?” Draco sighed out already knowing the answer. He split his orange in half and placed the other half in front of Hermione. 

Ginny giggled, “Well, he’s handsome.” 

Ron’s eyes bugged out and he began turning a wicked shade of red.  

“That’s a cousin!” Ron bellowed.  

Hermione came to the defense of Ginny.  

“Doesn’t mean she blind!” Hermione scoffed.  

Draco wheeled around in her direction, looking just as disturbed as Ron.  

“He’s a middle-aged convict.” Draco shook his head, feeling like he was siding with Ron now. There was no sound reason why they should be ogling an older man.  

“He’s innocent!” Hermione pointed at Ron, “You know well enough that he is! And besides, he doesn’t look that old. Wizards live to be well past one-hundred. Two hundred if we’re lucky.”  

Ron scoffed, “Is that your excuse for crushing on Harry’s godfather?” 

Draco raised his brows seeing Hermione and Ginny both turn a slight shade of guilty pink. Leave it to girls to go wild over a bad boy on a motorcycle. It certainly put Draco in a pouty mood. 

Typical. 

Draco popped a slice of orange in his mouth and thought about what would be the coolest motorcycle to buy to impress Hermione. Surely the exchange rates of Galleons to Pounds wasn’t too bad at the moment. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but had a great vision of Hermione hopping on his motorcycle behind him and taking off towards the hills of a blazing sunset. 

“What’s with the goofy smile, Malfoy?”  

“Shut up Ginny,” Draco muttered under his breath.