fervere

Chapter Fourteen

Ron Weasley would find himself wasting more and more of his time up in the attic aside from his new sleeping arrangement. Once in a while, Ginny would join in their company if Fred and George were busy creating new versions of joke sweets. However, it was mainly Hermione who was usually found in the corner of the attic quietly reading something, reasoning that the library was too dim.  

“Or perhaps the allure of a certain someone,” Fred muttered his breath once at dinner while Hermione pointed out that the attic was the only room where she got a decent amount of light to study.  

And, to be fair, she did studied a lot at the makeshift desk that once had a life of a card table. The same one Fred and George would sit Draco down to propose how they should use their money on their business. It was a lot of back and forth as an amature financial advisor, but Draco supposed that forcing the twins into investing most of their money into a spot at Diagon Alley would ultimately help them in the long run. 

"You suppose?" Fred repeated, scratching the light stubble on his chin. 

"We could skip out on seventh year, Freds," George leaned back, placing his feet on the makeshift desk. Draco could feel the burn of Hermione's glare over his shoulder, directed at George who immediately took his feet off the table. 

"You could place a bid on a place now," Draco shrugged, "And spend the rest of the year perfecting your products in time for next year's school rush in Diagon Alley. And you should always plan for the holiday rush to stock up on products."

Hermione cleared her through and the twins inwardly groaned. Hermione stood up from Draco's side of the bed, handing Ron a scroll Draco could only assume was homework. She paced over and all three of them expected her to scold them for even thinking of dropping out of Hogwarts.

She stuck her chin up, "I suppose Diagon Alley is ideal. Hogsmeade has Zonko's anyways if your primary customers will be students, the next best place is Diagon." 

Hermione glanced down at Draco and held in her smile when the Twins jumped into action to find a recent copy of the Daily Prophet, in hopes to find a classify advert to fulfill their dreams.

The attic became something like a sanctuary for everyone with the exception of Harry and, if Draco was honest, he didn’t really mind the company because, well, Hermione. 

Enough said. 

It ws a much more fulfilling summer with so many people round, Draco didn't mind the amount of people that ended up in his attic once in a while. It was a stark difference from his past summers. 

One ordinary rainy late night after a rather short lesson from Snape, Hermione took notice how miserable Draco always seemed to look after Snape left his room. Draco hated the looks of pity he would occasionally get but it’s not like he could effectively mask the pain he went through during Snape’s lessons. It was mentally exhausting having Snape prod into some personal memories and relive them especially if they were not particularly happy ones. The amount of times that Snape had stumbled into some pitiful childhood memories was astonishing, and it was entirely possible that Snape knew Draco better than he knew himself at this point.  

Hermione took it upon herself to cheer him up by introducing Draco to her a Walkman. Draco didn’t have the heart to tell Hermione that his cold void appearance wasn't because he was in a bad mood, like Harry was. He was just ridiculously void of any energy. All he could really do was blink if he was honest. Still, even when Hermione rushed off he didn’t go out of his way to stop her. He reveled in the fact that Hermione was tending to him.  

Ron also looked utterly miserable on a particular rainy night. Draco collected that he had spent the better part of the evening trying to coax Harry to join him for a round of wizard’s chess and failed miserably.  

He sat by the rose window, bumping his freckled forehead lightly against the glass. The pitter patter of the rain filled in the empty void of sound. Ron's thumps, on the other hand, was his own wy to bear the weight of his defeat.

“He’s got to come around,” Ron breathed out incredulously, “Right?” 

Draco shrugged, on his own side of the bed collapsed on his pillows, unable to move.  

"Eventually?" Draco said with a tone of uncertainty. 

“You’d think that the trial would have normalize him,” Ron mumbled out, "Take the stress off him."

"I really don’t know Potter well enough to know what his normal is. For all I know, he could be that insane." Draco shrugged.

Ron snorted.  

“Well kinda,” Ron agreed with a stupid smile on his freckled face, “But not to this degree.” 

Soon enough Hermione reappeared with a box in her arms and a glow to her face. She was ready to educate them on some muggle things, and Draco for one, suddenly had a bit of strength to sit up and scoot over towards Hermione as she plopped down with the box in her lap. Ron curiously crossed over to the new distraction.

Hermione rummaged through the old shoe box, explaining what cassettes were.  

Both Ron and Draco sat next to Hermione peering into the box, as she held up a plastic looking rectangle with two spiky holes in the center. She handed Ron one and gave Draco another.  

Bee Gees, it read.  

Ron would stick both of his fingers into the holes and would point out the thin piece of tape inside the cassette. 

“That’s where the music is, Ronald. Be careful.” Hermione warmly said, “If you damage that tape the music is going to sound warped. You’ve got to take care of them. It captures the music’s essence on that piece of plastic ribbon.” 

Both Ron and Draco’s jaw went slack as they primitively looked on at the cassettes, astonished that Hermione was explaining something without the use of magic. Personally, Draco heard nothing beyond “Capturing music’s essence” because he was sure, that the essence he was feeling was not entrapped in a small rectangular piece of plastic.  

Still, Draco was excited to show Hermione that he knew a bit of this muggle stuff.  

“You put this in the box here, right? And then put these earmuff things where the music comes out.” Draco grabbed the small muffs and placed it on her head. He wasn’t exactly stupid. He had seen some of the muggle teenagers wore these last Summer. Judging by Hermione’s long look, Draco was sure he had managed to surprise her just a bit. 

Hermione giggled as she showed Draco how to adjust it properly over her ears.  

“You know more than you let on,” She smiled, slipping in the cassette into the box, closing it with a click. “I thought you weren’t interested in muggle studies.” 

He felt his jaw firm up, “I’m not. Not enough to study it at Hogwarts, I mean.” 

While Ron looked through a small box of cassettes, Hermione rolled her eyes, “I thought I would take some of Fred’s records and transfer it over to cassettes. He seems partial to Celestina Warbeck but he had one record from the Weird Sisters and...” 

She pushed down a button with a triangle on it and pressed her ear against Draco’s head. He jumped back slightly at the sudden touch. He tried to play it cool as if her touch was just something that was a regular occurrence. 

He registered that he could hear ‘This is the Night’ by The Weird Sisters but, really, he was highly concentrated on her leg pressing against his own, causing him to focus on his breathing. Draco gulped, really thankful that Snape’s short lesson hadn’t completely tired him out, or else he would have been fully aware of how glorious this moment was for him and that was not something he was use to training his body to relax on.

Music was secondary when she was so close to him that her light vanilla scent filled his head with dizzying thoughts.  

Her foot tapped to the beat, and she stole several glances at Draco to gauge his reaction.  

Draco realized because he spent an enormous amount of energy trying to be nonchalant, he possibly came across as uninterested. 

“I suppose you’re not a fan.” Hermione shrugged, pulling away looking over Ron’s shoulder to find a new cassette. Draco wanted to say anything to get her attention back. 

“It's the only relevant music I got from the wizarding side. My father gave me a lot of classical stuff but Sirius has a lot of his old music from the seventies. Do you know Queen or ABBA?” She gave Draco a look as if she was searching for the answer before he vocalized it.  

Draco scoffed, “Hermione, you know I don’t know much about muggle music.” 

She beamed, “Well I don’t know! You can't be awfully surprising you know. I’ve caught you looking at all these muggle books this past year and you know a bit about Walkman’s! For all I know, you might know the Elton John.” 

Draco paused for a moment, “Is he a famous author?” 

Hermione burst into a wide smile, “A singer. Would you like to listen?” 

He blinked and felt a lazy smile spread over his face, “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” Hermione raised her brows, “Okay! I’ll be back.” 

She jumped to her feet and rushed over to the ladder down. Draco hated himself for the fact that he didn’t mind this at all. In fact, he relished the fact that he had no qualms about it, like he perceived he would have. It was easy. She was easy to like.  

Suppose she was the one Trelawney predicted for Draco, and suppose she wasn’t? Then again, he didn’t care much for her ideas, as they were never concrete. One would have to constantly take the leap of faith in order to believe Trelawney and with Hermione, it didn’t even require faith.  

Draco just knew he liked her. He didn’t need much convincing that these invisible fibers of yearning pulled him in towards her existed. He could feel it.  

Draco threw himself back on his bed his chest buzzing with happiness when Ron announced he was going to use the cassette box to talk to Harry. Aster, who was curled up on his bed, licked the side of Draco’s face. 

“Do you think Hermione would mind if I take this?” Ron asked, holding up the box. 

Draco glanced over to Ron for a split second before he shook his head.  

“No,” He sighed out, “She’s bringing more anyways.” 

Ron jumped to his feet, rushing out while proclaiming he was going to use the music to see if Harry would be inclined to spend a few moments with him. Draco almost felt sorry for Ron. He seemed keen to get his friend’s approval back despite the constant foul mood Harry was under.  

It made Draco a tad bit jealous.  

How wonderful would it be to have such loyal friends to still want to be there for him even when Draco was at his worst. 

“Aster,” Draco whispered out, “I’m not that bad to have as a friend, am I?” 

Aster raised both of his tired eyes and didn't answer.

He hadn’t been alone for a full minute contemplating all these new feelings when Draco heard Hermione’s soft padding coming up the stairs. She appeared looking flushed and radiant as if she had rushed around to quickly return.  

This lightened his heart and even brought a surprised smile to his face.  

“Looks like you missed me,” Hermione joked when Draco promptly propped himself up with his elbows to greet Hermione with a smirk. 

Draco quickly fixed his face which Hermione pointed out.  

“A-ah!” She chuckled, “No need to hide it Malfoy, you can admit that this plain old muggle born isn’t too bad to like.” 

Draco rolled his eyes, “That maybe so Granger, but I wasn’t the one running up and down the stairs to get back quickly.” 

He noted her flushed cheeks that suddenly morphed into a scowl.  

“And I can easily run back down and leave you alone, if that’s what you wish.” She lightly threatened. 

Draco had no response for her other than a groan and a coy smile he tried his best to hide. 

They spent the rest of the night listening to music.  

It wasn’t until Ginny came knocking by to tell Hermione to take a rest when they realized it was nearing three in the morning. Embarrassed, she mumbled out some apologies to Draco. 

“And Ron?” Draco asked. He was a bit surprised it wasn’t Ron breaking up their time to go to bed. 

Ginny yawned, “Looks like him and Harry kissed and made up.” 

Although Draco’s bed felt infinitely bigger that night, he couldn’t help but feel delighted at the moments he spent with Hermione, humming along to music and chatting the night away.  

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

The next day Draco woke up bright and early in hopes of having more time to see her. He had a cassette of Queen in his hands ready to ask if she could recommend a song. Of course it was just an excuse to talk to her, but he didn’t really need a reason.  

He knew that sooner or later on in the day Hermione would find herself up in the attic to study, but Draco didn’t want to wait until she eventually decided to study. Recalling the ringing of her laugh and smile from last night gave him goosebumps on a warm muggy day. 

That alone, gave Draco the hope that things would be better and he didn’t want to waste a single moment any more on their limited summer together. That said, with a renewed invigorating sense of purpose, Draco walked around the home in hopes to be the first to find Hermione the moment she woke up.  

They could study his dark art books together or he could help with Breakfast, or she could show him even more music. Whatever it was, Draco didn’t care. He was happy with the wonderful ideas floating around his lovestruck head. 

And the best part was, luck was on his side.  

Draco found her in the living room, next to the window about to tie a letter to an early owl.  

“Good morning,” Draco called out, causing Hermione to whirl around in shock. The rolled up parchment she was about to send was now securely behind her back, away from Draco’s sight.  

“Draco!” She exclaimed, feigning happiness, “You’re up.” 

It was something that didn’t go unnoticed by Draco. His cheerful disposition fell into an accusatory one.  

“Why are you hiding your letter?” Draco asked, not one for beating around the bush. It was painfully obvious and not acknowledging it would be worse, he thought. 

“No reason!” She pipped up, “You just scared me, that’s all.” 

“Why would I care when you’re using the owl?” Draco cocked his head, “There’s two other one’s the Order can use.” 

Hermione deflated as if she was happy Draco had jumped to that conclusion. Except now Draco was wondering if his suspicions were too simple. He initially thought she was writing to her parents to let them know she was doing well. But based off her reactions, maybe there was something more. 

“Would you like some fresh orange juice?” Hermione asked cutting through Draco’s thoughts as if he was that simple to let it deter him. 

He was, actually, that simple.  

His face relaxed and he involuntarily nodded, letting Hermione approach him. She grabbed his arm to wheel him out of the living room and soon enough at the kitchen, bright and early, Draco had nothing much on his mind other than freshly squeezed orange juice and Hermione’s foot that kept accidentally bumping into his. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

No matter how much sleep Draco would miss out on, he was excited to spend as much time with Hermione as possible and it was his own precious secret he could keep within the trust of The Order. They didn’t ask questions, nor did they give him infuriating looks like Snape did. For now, he enjoyed the time he didn’t need to explain to anyone. He felt it would be a bigger burden to explain to the whole school why he was suddenly hanging around two-thirds of the golden trio, if he included Ron. 

Possibly all thirds, if Harry ever came around which reminded Draco that it wasn’t a possibility unless he was to one to wave the white flag first. Draco also thought Dumbledore would be thankful if there was another set of eyes to monitor Harry. 

Draco finally was able to weasel himself into Harry’s room, much easier than all of Ron’s past attempts. 

Draco found Harry sitting on Sirius’s old bed, surrounded by old posters of musicians covering a full family tapestry that was labeled ‘The Black Family’ at the very top. Harry leaned against the handsome wooden headboard, staring at him.  

“I spoke to Dumbledore.” Draco began.  

“I’m aware.” He shortly said.  

Silence.  

Draco placed his hands behind his back and gulped.  

“I don’t expect that you’d trust-” 

“I don’t,” Harry interrupted, “And I won’t.” 

Draco noted how tense Harry seemed.  

“I know it must be difficult to trust anyone... when, you know, the Daily Prophet has been slandering you,” Draco began but paused, waiting for Harry to say some snide remark. He didn’t. Harry simply stared. “And the Ministry was working hard to have you charged at your trial.” 

Harry raised an unimpressed brow.  

“And that he’s out there,” Draco gulped once more, “I can understand that it would be incredibly hard to have to feel that you have an ounce of control in your life.” 

“You think it feels like having a bad day?” Harry sent a glare towards him, “Like all I'd have to do is take a rest and by tomorrow it would all be alright?”  

Draco shook his head.  

“Cedric is dead because of me,” Harry pointed at himself, standing up abruptly, “And you want me to trust you when part of you is the very thing that caused his death.” 

Draco glanced at his feet. Harry was referring to his father. 

“As I said, I know it’s not easy.” He explained, inhaling, “And with due time, I promise my involvement will make sense.” 

“Another thing that I’m not allowed to know now, is it?” Harry rolled his eyes. He held back a slew of harsh things he wanted to say, looking like he wanted to explode.  

Draco bowed his head, “Perhaps another time when you’re more at ease, Potter. But I just want you to know, I’m doing everything in my power to help you. Even if you don’t understand it, even if it's selfish of me... hell, there are times I have trouble understanding.” 

Harry’s defenses came down slightly and Draco quietly excused himself before he said anything stupid that would harden Harry up again. He felt considerably lucky that Harry didn’t attack him and even luckier that Hermione ended up filling in the holes that were left open.  

It was like she had to remind Harry how Draco had helped and how Dumbledore trusted him enough to have him around all the Order. Harry looked much less defensive every time Draco walked into a room. However, he wasn’t greeted with a warm welcome either and Draco suspected that wouldn’t change soon. 

Still, Draco was lucky enough to spend a considerable amount of time in good company. Hermione had also been a bit curious about occlumency and tried her best with the tidbit of techniques she had overheard Snape teaching him. 

Draco was unsure if she was actually good or not. He didn’t have the slightest idea of how to jump into her mind. On the flip side of his informative chats in his room, Hermione would spend a great deal up with him reading over her potions book. He didn’t question why she was reading that old thing until one day Ron came in and made a face.  

“Are you reading that stupid book?,” Ron feigned a poorly executed retching noise and looked over Hermione’s shoulder, “Polyjuice potion? You’re not thinking of making that again?” 

Ron scrunched up his freckled nose forcing Draco to have a hundred questions as to why Ron specifically said again.  

Hermione sent a glare, “I don’t know. Yesterday, I realized when I was helping you mother clear out a closet, the Black family had a storage of some ingredients-” 

“Those must be ancient!” Ron scoffed and, if Draco was following correctly, he agreed.  

“I was trying to read how old ingredients can be before they lose their effectiveness,” Hermione stuck her nose up, “They basically have everything we need, except...” 

“Except for what?” Harry’s voice pulled their attention away from Hermione over to the door to find Harry leaning against the door frame of the attic. Draco hardly ever kept his door close because of of the many people that floated in and out of his space. Harry was never one of them and caused a bit of discomfort as all three of them, Ron, Hermione, and Draco to exchange looks. Hrry's arms were crossed as he scanned around the only decent livable room in the whole house. He sent Draco a knowing glare before he took a few steps in.  

“Lacewing flies,” Hermione finished off with a pout, “And those take three weeks to brew if we’re lucky to get out hands on them.” 

Draco watched both Ron and Harry who didn’t seem as shocked as he was. It was one thing to want to make a potion that they would only learn in theory their sixth year, but for what reason they would need it was beyond Draco’s imagination. 

“Why go through the trouble?” Draco asked. Hermione shifted around to sit with her legs folded under her. 

“We could make a batch so we can sneak out.” She shrugged, “It’s getting awfully stuffy here, isn’t it? Being cooped up here all summer...” 

Draco had no clue what she was taking about. He was having the best summer of his life. 

“Mum said we can go to Diagon Alley once we get our letters,” Ron pipped up, “Why not wait?” 

“Because Ron!” Hermione sighed out exasperatedly, but still didn’t provide a good enough reason.  

“Did you get permission?” Ron questioned.  

“For what? Brewing a potion? Honestly, Ronald, since when are you a stickler for rules?” Hermione shot back.  

“Since when are you not?” Draco pipped in, causing Hermione to lock her lips together tightly. She inhaled sharply, forming her argument within a second.  

“I meant if we could leave,” Ron sent his friend a soft glare, “They would have already allowed us to take a step outside. Or maybe they were just hoping we never asked.” 

“Obviously if we asked to go out, they will say no.” Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron, “Except for Tonks. She’s the only one capable of reasoning that you can’t keep seven teenagers caged up all summer. So, I don’t know, I was thinking of asking Tonks if she could get us some lacewing flies.” 

“You’d want to risk everything the Order is doing just to go outside?” Harry questioned. There was now a big black dog that stood closely by his feet. There was a bit of silence from both Ron and Hermione who looked a bit apprehensive. Aster looked curiously at the other new dog that reminded Draco of the Grim. 

Hermione shook her head, “No, I mean... It’s just an idea. Fantasy if you really think about it. But it would be really nice to step out and maybe escape to the countryside and...” 

Hermione’s hope had deflated and Draco found Harry quite annoying to have dampened Hermione's spirit. She closed her book and tossed it carefully on Draco’s bed.  

While Draco took a split second to eye Hermione’s book from the corner of his vision he saw the black dog twist its joints in a gruesome transformation. It felt like Draco’s voice was stuck in this throat when after a few sickening pops, Sirius Black was standing there as if it was not a big deal. Aster barked. 

Draco looked around wondering if anyone was going to point out the elephant in the room. As if he were the crazy one for wanting to jump back and react to the grotesque way the dog’s body had morphed back into a human. Point joints back into angles that seemed unnatural for a dog until it morphed into Sirius

It was then it dawned on Draco how much he doesn’t know about Harry’s inner circle and what else there is to discover.  

“Cheer up Harry, nothing wrong with a bit of mischief,” Sirius sallow face glowed at Hermione who was living up to his expectations, “It's rare to have friends like yours be both intelligent and fun. Let’s not forget pretty.” 

Hermione smiled appreciatively while Draco narrowed his eyes defensively at the old creep. 

“I can keep an eye on you all.” Sirius offered, “With Aster, it would look like two people walking their dogs.” 

Draco scowled at Sirius who continued. He suddenly didn’t like this plan at all. 

“You know Tonk’s said she is niffy at changing appearances.” Sirius mentioned, “All those Witch Weekly’s she’s read. You wouldn’t have to waste so much time brewing a polyjuice potion.”  

“Well why wasn’t your first plan, ‘Mione,” Ron threw his hands in the air, “Feels a bit overcomplicated for such a simple thing." 

Draco rubbed his eyeballs in slight exasperation, “Well if you’re relying on Witch Weekly to change, it’s not as effective and it’s not like you can change into an entirely different person. The lot of you have some trademark appearances. Stupid red hair and freckles, unkept black hair and green eyes...” 

Draco couldn’t bring himself to say anything about Hermione without fearing he would gush about how distinct he thought her big brown eyes were, and how her hair was now bouncy and long and how he wanted to brush the strands off her bare shoulder. 

He cleared his throat. 

“I’m practically a ghost with my skin and hair,” Draco pointed to himself, “Snape and I got lots of stares when we went to a football match last sum-” 

“You went to a match?” Harry narrowed his accusatory eyes.  

Hermione cocked her head, “That’s right. You mentioned before that you stayed with Snape for the past summers.” 

“Why?” Harry asked in an accusatory tone. It took a bit of strength for Draco to not let his annoyance read all over his face, but he was sure he failed.  

“For tea and crumpets, Potter,” He retorted. Hermione threw a look at Harry as if she were reading his mind. Harry, about to unfold his arms and lunge at Draco, stayed frozen in place and waited in agony for Draco to continue. Draco decided it best to not antagonize him further. 

“To be brief, Mum wasn’t exactly thrilled having me sit through father’s work affairs amongst other things when I was home.” 

Draco couldn’t exactly outright say his mother was also appalled at how he had an interest in muggles, particularly one muggle-born that was now looking at him.  

“What things,” Harry crossed his arms.  

Draco looked around the room, all of them curious as to what led to something so drastic like being housed with Professor Snape for a good chunk of his summer holidays.  

Draco let out a soft sigh, “According to them, I struggled a lot when I was a child. They thought I had an obsessive interest in trying to befriend anyone, and I really mean anyone, I came across with. They couldn’t imagine that perhaps I was just a lonely kid.” 

Draco gulped recalling his cold upbringing. 

"I mean, unlike Weasley and his mob, it’s not exactly a warm and lively manor to live at. There wasn’t anyone my age. All I had were tutors growing up and I suppose anytime we would go out, I would talk to shopkeepers, the children at the playgrounds, goblins sometimes...” 

Harry and Hermione stayed quiet, but it was Ron who caught on immediately to what it meant to have to live in secrecy.  

“How many of the kids were muggles?” Ron quietly asked. Harry and Hermione glanced at Ron for a moment and the realization finally sunk in.  

Draco scratched the back of his head, “I dunno, perhaps most of them. Anyways mum took it upon herself to make sure she squashed it out of me or, just make sure that father never knew about it. I mean the last thing she would want for the family is to have their only son known as a blood traitor.”  

Sirius, who had been quiet all this time, looked on almost proudly at Draco. 

“So first year at Hogwarts... I might have been too honest with everything I saw and everyone I met so she took it as an obsession. She begged Snape to steer me in the right direction since he and father were close in ranks... back when Voldemort, you know,” Draco gulped, “She trusted him and perhaps it was an oversight because I suppose she didn’t know she was handing me on a silver platter over to Dumbledore.” 

Harry blinked his green orbs at Draco.  

“And what exactly does he help you with?” Harry narrowed his vision. 

"He looks through my memories through legilimency to report my entire year back to mum.” Draco scratched his neck nervously, “Obviously he’s kept a lot from her, otherwise she would have a heart attack if she knew exactly where I was.” 

“He sees something in you,” Sirius slowly said.  

“Dumbledore?” Draco asked, “Yeah well he likes to see the best in people.” 

“No, Snape,” Sirius shook his curly head, “If he can read your memories, then he must had seen something worth protecting.” 

It was something that Draco had never considered. His back grew straighter as Draco searched his thoughts as to why it had never occurred to him what was the reason Snape had agreed on any of this. Truthfully, all if it was a major inconvenice to Snape, no matter how much money his mother threw at him. 

So why-  

“It’s preposterous,” Hermione muttered defensively, crossing her arms tightly, “An utter violation of privacy!” 

“When you’re so closely linked to Voldemort,” Sirius began, “There is no such thing.” 

The charming man glanced over to Draco who looked quite bothered having to reveal a bit of himself to the golden trio.  

“I’m guessing Snivs is helping you to shut out if someone were to invade your mind.” Sirius approached him carefully, “Meaning, your dearest Professor is risking a hell of a lot by secretly steering you away from their side, right? Can’t imagine Malfoy approving having his son spending the summer here.” 

Draco was still for a moment and nodded.  

“Yes.” Draco quietly confirmed, “He’s under the impression that I’m with tutors, in hopes that I'll be well equip to maybe join them...” 

Sirius walked slowly towards Draco, like a predator examining a new piece of meat.  

“Old Sevs wouldn’t possibly be willing to stick out his neck for you unless there was a valid reason...” Sirius said lowly. Draco felt the intense stares of the golden trio on him, “Considering Harry witnessed your father when Voldemort came back, there is no question that you’ll be unwillingly linked to Voldemort soon enough. Whether you like it or not. And it seems like those in power, would rather you pretend as if everything was normal for you.” 

Hermione put the pieces together the fastest, “You don’t mean to say that Dumbledore wants you to pretend as if you’re living up to your family’s expectations.” 

“It’s cowardly.” Harry shot out and then, Draco got the support from a very surprising voice. 

“It’s brave,” Ginny popped in, walking confidently into Draco’s room and threw one of his dark art books at him. She casted a long look at Draco as if she understood how incredibly difficult it will be for Draco to proceed in life under the rule of his Father, while secretly wanting to overthrow Voldemort.  

He blinked back in surprise.  

It was the first time he had ever thought about it. Draco was inclined to the defeat of the Dark Lord. It needed to happen.  

“We’ve got a problem,” Ginny sighed, steering the conversation in an entirely different direction, “I swiped one of your books Draco since no one cares to tell me anything directly around here. Hope you don’t mind.” 

Draco tilted his head in shock. 

Ginny crossed her arms, “The few, non verbal spells that are well known are incredibly difficult to master with a wand. But these spells in your books, are not only non verbal but wandless. How is it even possible to simply think of a spell and then it’s performed?” 

Sirius chewed on his lip, “Animagus transformation is something like that.” 

Harry, looking entirely overwhelmed, wheeled around to his godfather, “What do you mean? Peter Pettigre-” 

“Of course it’s easier and less tricky with a wand,” Sirus explained, “But you can’t really expect to wield a wand to transform back, if you don’t have hands. Others can help you out of the transformation, but a fully dependable Animagus can transform at will. No wand.” 

“Like you,” Ron whispered out, realizing Sirius was barely seen with a wand.  

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Harry lightly snapped.  

“If they have non-verbal, wandless magic Harry,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “Then you’ll be looking at a pretty crazy face off with Voldemort if he knows how to do this stuff. Imagine fighting blind folded and deaf?” 

“But it’s all just made up, isn’t it?” Hermione asked Sirius worriedly, “I’ve looked at some of Draco’s books too and I can’t see how any of it would work in theory. The incantations don’t have any kind of root in Runes and even wand movements don’t seem to follow a powerful wave pattern. It seems counter intuitive.” 

Sirius shrugged, “If it was all baseless, Draco’s father wouldn’t waste his son’s time on them, would he?” 

There was a dead silence that felt like it stretched for an eternity.  

“So this is what you’re doing.” Harry called out, “You’re playing both sides and letting us believe that your father actually believes in all this stuff, so the Order would waste time on your stupid speculations. We barely trust Snape, so give it a good thought, Draco, why would you think we would ever trust you?” 

Draco and Harry tensely stared each other down and something in Draco harden, just like he had felt years before. Everything Harry did was so great and righteous. Draco knew there was more than just a black and white view of what was right and wrong. 

“Well...” Hermione piped up and Harry groaned. 

“For fuck sakes, not the tasks again Hermione,” Harry pointed out, “He could have been leading me to the portkey.” 

“Except he wasn’t!” Hermione defended, elevating Draco’s mood, “He couldn’t have known. There’s no way a mere teenager could have Dumbledore so fooled. Think Harry, please. It’s irrational. I’m not saying he’s a saint but he’s the best we’ve got if Draco manages to infiltrate Voldemort’s circle. He’d never suspect it out of a student if he’s successful.” 

Sirius and Ron exchanged looks, as if they were aware of something so obvious that they were trying not to point it out. 

Harry glared back at Draco, “I don’t know what you did to Hermione, but I don’t like that you’re brainwashing my friends.” 

Ron looked sheepishly at Harry, “That’s my cousin you’re talking to and he’s terrible at brainwashing.” 

Sirius let out a roaring laugh, taking Ron’s head under his arm and ruffling his flaming red hair.  

Harry was still very displeased and looked over at Hermione.  

“Let me know if you find a way out of this house,” He grumbled, “I want to be the first to get out for a bit. Need air” 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Nearing the end of the summer, Draco knew his days of liberation were limited. He would soon be told by Snape that his return to the Manor was needed and then the next time he’d see Hermione would be at school.  

And thinking of all the prying eyes at school, Draco couldn’t imagine openly spending time with Hermione. He couldn’t risk it.  

At night when they were technically forbidden to go out, Hermione had found a way to sneak in a tv with a large slit to put in what she said were movie cassettes.  

Draco was not sure exactly how she found a way to power the tv but it impressed Mr. Weasley enough to hang about the back of the tv marveling at how Hermione managed to suck out the magic from the wall.  

“It's an extension cord,” She whispered over to Draco, “The next-door neighbors hardly use their own attic, so I crawled through the window to connect to their outlet.” 

The soft slow flash of the tv illuminated the dark room. The Ron and the twins were huddled around the TV in fascination while Draco did his best to stare ahead instead of being in awe of Hermione who sat with him on his bed. Draco had no idea what she was going on about, but he nodded as if he understood every single word of it. It was like watching a movie but in a small theater.  

“What are we watching,” Draco asked, “I can’t really see.” 

Hermione laughed noticing that Ron was avoiding Fred and George who were wrestling for a better spot in front of the tv while Mr. Weasley stared at the back of the tv. 

“Hook.” She nodded, “It’s a different story derived from Peter Pan... you must know Peter Pan, right?” 

“Who’s that?” He asked without much thought.  

Hermione deflated, “It’s a classic story! A boy who never grows up...” 

“Ah,” Draco hummed out, “Your muggle fairy tales.” 

Hermione scrunched her nose up in playful disapproval, “You know your own wizarding tales aren’t much different from ours.” 

Draco smirked when she lightly shoved his side. They were quite for a moment before she spoke up again, her chest swelling as if she had sucked in a ton of bravery to say what she said next.  

“I think it would be fun to go stargazing,” She whispered, “We could attempt to look for Ignara.” 

“Looking could take all night,” Draco gulped, “Maybe even years.” 

Hermione’s face slowly fell, as if she was deep in her thoughts of stargazing with him. Is she considering a date? Would it count as a date? Perhaps she’d invite Weasley and Potter... 

“I’m okay with that,” She softly admitted. 

Draco was sure Hermione said plenty after that, he was just mesmerized watching her speak to him, while his heartbeat was muffling it’s beats straight into his ear. He felt the promise gripping at his heart that one day they’ll go off into the night and hopefully never return until a curse was placed upon them.  

Hermione stopped talking and she looked at him with her big brown eyes. Lights and Hooks and Weasleys dissolved away into a fuzz around them and Draco felt alone with her on his bed. It felt like his heart was pounding so loud, there was no way she couldn’t hear it.  

Her lips parted slightly, blinking wildly before breaking her eye contact and looking back at the damn tv.  

“’Mione,” Ron whined, “It turned blue! The pictures aren't moving.” 

Sure enough the tv box was now showing a blue screen and Hermione scrambled off the bed to check the tv for the entertained Weasleys who looked more than satisfied at the wild inventions of muggles.  

Draco withheld a smile at the magic Hermione conjured without even lifting her wand. She simply got up and meddled with the darn box and sure enough, the movie was back on. Draco chewed on his lower lip as she settled back down next to him, bringing in Aster into her lap as an innocent safety guard from Draco.  

Hermione sighed out, “I’m leaving soon.” 

As much as he hated to think about the future, Draco allowed himself to look genuinely crestfallen.  

“I was going to send an owl to my parents, hoping to change their minds-” 

“Owl? Didn’t you get around to it?” Draco finished, recalling the one morning when he caught Hermione with an owl. He deeply regretted stopping her. Perhaps they would have more time together.  

“That’s a shame,” He added, “But I mean, it’s almost September.” 

He had to be realistic. This perfect summer couldn't have lasted forever.

“Don't be ridiculous. We still have a two full weeks before we go back to Hogwarts,” Hermione pointed, “Three if you count this week.” 

Draco nodded, “I’ll have to leave soon too. Spend a week with my parents before Hogwarts.” 

Hermione remained quiet for a long stretch of time.  

She bit her lip when Harry and Sirius walked in with Ginny to gather around the Tv. For once Harry’s glare was not directed at Draco but at Hermione.  

Something Draco definitely noticed.  

“How soon is your soon?” Draco asked, deciding it was best to know exact information to plan accordingly. They could properly sneak away, take a train out to the farthest part of London and then, maybe, a bus to the countryside.  All within a night, of course. He knew it was highly unlikely but not entirely impossible. Suddenly, Draco desperately wanted that polyjuice potion.

“I’ll be leaving in a week,” Hermione suddenly announced, crossing her arms defensively. He had the suspicion it was not directed at him.

Now this was something he cared about. It was even less time that Draco had imagined. Their limited time was suddenly weighing heavy on Draco’s mind, perhaps he could gather enough galleons to purchase something in Diagon Alley if he goes.

“Oh,” Draco gulped, “Heading back home?” 

Hermione cringed, “Well no, we’re taking a family trip actually.” 

Hermione absentmindedly scratched the top of Aster’s head, who was perfectly content to be given attention at the moment, watching the movie intently. 

While Draco intently watched her. 

“Where is the Granger troupe heading to?” Draco asked, casually thinking of the place Hermione would love to spend. Perhaps in places where she could curl up with a good book and a marvelous view of a city.

“Bulgaria.” She answered shortly. 

Draco’s heart paused, feeling paper cut tears etching into his heart. The one thing on his feeble mind was the only reason of why Hermione would be traveling down to Bulgaria.  

Krum.