fervere

Chapter Seventeen

The next morning had come (thankfully a Sunday) and a tiresome Draco had found himself with plenty of time to tour the First Years around in the morning. It was exactly the kind of thing he wanted to do when he desperately need just another hour of sleep.  

Nevertheless, he did his best to greet the shy bunch in the grand Slytherin Common Room, took them to breakfast and then Draco promptly began the early tour of the school. He thought it would be more entertaining to take them out into the school grounds, showing them the Quidditch Pitch and the lake. He pointed out the Forbidden Forest and sprinkled in the lie that poisoned elderflowers grew rapidly at this time of year.  

“Their pollen is something you don’t want to inhale,” Draco warned, chuckling when a few of the First Years brought the giant sleeves of their clocks to cover their mouth and nose. The ventured on to the Greenhouses of Herbology, pointing out the tallest tower from their view on the ground.  

“Astronomy Tower,” Draco squinted up, grinning to himself at a fond memory that slipped into his vision, “You’ll be having some late nights up there for Astronomy lessons.” 

As the morning inched to noon, Draco quickened the pace to instruct the several routes down to the dungeons where Potion and their house was, how to get to the Astronomy Tower the fastest, and led them to the Library where Madam Pince took over and showed the First Years how to check out books.  

Draco hung loosely behind his group, proud of how much he had covered, when a terrible shout caught his attention, as well as the fresh new students. 

“Tell her she’s stupid Harry!” Ron bellowed, storming into view.  

“It’s really none of your business!” Hermione scoffed holding a stack of books, “And besides, who are you to comment on who I talk to? On who I should like or shouldn't? I bet you’re glad that Daphne accepted to visit the Burrow for the winter holiday, I’m sure you’re hoping to snog her under some damn mistletoe if given the chance! Do you see me trying to convince you to stop writing your little love letters to her?” 

“He’s halfway across the country training! Surrounded by who knows how many other witches!” Ron snapped back, “I though you’ve be a lot smarter than to date him rather than someone right in front of-.” 

Draco had caught the words that slashed through his chest.  

He looked over his shoulder and gave the Trio a long look. Hermione and Ron were both in a full rage while Harry dragged loosely behind them, looking mildly annoyed and uninterested. They all stopped in their tracks noticing Draco standing there, hands behind his back. If it wasn’t enough of shame that was now dotting on their cheeks, the bright fresh audience of Slytherin First Years that Draco brought were now openly staring at the famous three.  

Madam Pince cleared her throat sending the them into a spiral of apologies.  

“Mind if you cast a silencing charm on your spat?” Draco managed to say with a straight face, “Some of us are trying to learn proper library etiquette.” 

Hermione pressed her lips together and turned a violent shade of red as Draco turned back around to focus on Madam Pince, not daring to take a second look at Hermione. He held in a deep puncture that was radiating pain through his body, Draco clasped his hands tightly behind his back glaring at the students who began whispering amongst themselves.  

Whispers of Potter and the gang filled his ears. A juicy bit of gossip that no doubt would make it's rounds by the end of today.

He felt his heart cracking and shattering. His clenched his jaw wasn’t enough to keep himself under control. He gulped the knot in his throat and breathed slowly, closing his eyes to focus.  

He knew it.  

Draco knew Hermione visiting Bulgaria was nothing but bad news. It was obvious that Krum had intentions, and he didn’t waste time on acting on them. Draco had hoped that their summer was special enough for her to reconsider that perhaps there were other options. Or that she had realized that Krum wasn’t as special as she had thought he was.  

Draco shook his head, refusing to look pitiful in front of the first years. He scolded himself at how stupid his train of thought had become and, yet, he couldn’t help himself wallow in the self-pity.  

Not like he could ask her to be his... 

He had hoped she would take the option of remaining single until Draco... 

Draco huffed.  

Until what? 

Until Draco took down the Dark Lord himself? Proved himself worthy to her? Gave the big middle finger to his friends and family so he could proclaim his feelings for Hermione? 

Then what? 

Didn’t guarantee she would choose him, even when it felt like she could read his emotions like an open book with her preceptive brown orbs. She would still opt for a better choice. One that wouldn’t be questioned. Or ridiculed.  

People would probably question her intelligence if she were to ever fall for him. She wouldn’t. She was far too smart to choose him. 

Draco swallowed another hard lump in his throat and looked at his watch.  

“Alright, First Years,” He called out to the group of twenty pairs of fresh new eyes, “It’s almost lunch hour so please make your way to the Great Hall for some food. We will finish your tour after lunch, Pansy Parkinson will take over and show you around the second and third floor classrooms for your Charms and History Lessons for today.”  

He dismissed them, thanking Madam Pince for the introduction. He spun on his heel and rushed over to the only part of the library that was safe for him.  

The secret nook.  

It was the closest place where he could hide away without running the risk of coming across someone to witness him in distress. He marched over to the area, ran his fingers along the three required bookshelves and headed down the aisle, hearing the bookshelf low rumble as if moved the tiniest amount for the passage way.  

He saw that slit of light and a wave of relief washed over him, readying himself to let his guard down. When he approached it, he saw it was occupied.  

He didn’t care. Instead of dodging the idea of coming across others or scampering off to find another secluded part of the library, he rammed himself into the tight space of the nook indifferent to the disheveled appearance to two intertwined bodies. 

“Oy,” He barked, “Out. Now.” 

The sloppy face of Crabbe came into view. He looked partially annoyed but mostly goofy when he noticed it was his own friend kicking him out. Crabbe was happy to see Draco despite stuffing his school button down into his trousers again.  

“For a second I thought you were a professor.” He smiled, “Who’s your lucky lady?” 

Crabbe looked behind him when a slight squeak caught Draco’s attention.  

Astoria, with her hair ruffled up, came out of the nook and rushed by the both of them. Draco would have been stunned if it wasn’t for his own turmoil of pain clawing at his chest.  

His friend winked at him and patted his shoulders, allowing him free use of the nook. Draco had a lot of questions to ask but he had other priorities.  

He needed to tend to a wound that slashed at his heart. He took a moment to settle down, but ultimately, he sat still, his elbows propped on the table while his two hands cupped into fist over his mouth. His eyelids quickly fluttered as he took the time to cast away what he just saw. 

He tried to hid it with the other memories he had preciously hidden but it felt like they were all pouring out, storming around like a hot fever in his head. He didn’t want to over analyze but Draco couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t understand.  

He breathed in and out, trying to focus. 

Trying to put her back in the spots of memories he had hidden her but he couldn’t. The pain had somehow lacerated all the parts of his mind, leaking all the warm memories that were now sour and bittersweet.  

Draco dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, desperately as if he was trying to force himself to focus. His right leg shook involuntarily, agitated from the fact that now the pain was dulling flowing into the extremities of his body.  

His breathing was becoming erratic and if he didn’t control himself soon, Draco feared that tears would soon be leaking out if him and it would just be another memory he would need to hide.  

The only thing that kept Draco distracted was the slice of pain that ever heartbeat brought. It brought him back to the start everytime Draco gain a bit of control, that is, until something sparked in Draco’s head.  

The source of his pain was right there crying out to him. 

It just made sense.  

Light smokey tendrils reached into every corner of his mind, collecting each part of her, every memory he had hid behind meaningless hours of study, behind mundane tutoring lessons, and the hours of staring at the night sky... He took her all out and, instead of constantly shuffling them around like when he did during Snapes lessons, he took Hermione all out of his mind.  

The ease at which Draco found himself doing this was surprising. Even more surprising was that he realized he was doing it without much effort.  

He felt the weary throb in his chest and knew where to put her.  

The cracks in his wound were just what was needed to stuff her there. Every smile. The ringing of her laugh. Her body pressed against his when they crash and fell together...  

Draco let out a shaky sigh. Even the memory of her looking up at the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall, the first time he had truly ever noticed her in their third year.  

He neatly put her away in his heart, a place no one would ever think of targeting.  

He sat there in silence and solitude, painfully stitching his wounds up with the threads of her.  

When he was ready, calm and collected, Draco rushed out fearing that he would only have a small moment before he would crack again. 

He nearly ran over Mildred Clearwater who was guiding her very own Ravenclaw first years as he exited the library, muttering an apology to her. If he hadn’t been in such a rush, he would have stop to notice the long look she gave him.  

Perhaps she sensed his emotions, sending him a look of pity.  

Perhaps, not.  

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Draco must admit, he foolishly volunteered to do a night patrol even when his body was screaming in protest. He needed to sleep. Classes wouldn’t start until the next day but he Draco seem to rationalize that instead of rest, a late night stroll would do him some good.  

Since the Library, he tortured himself with reality, sulking for the rest of the day. Upon hearing that Ron was required to check the Quidditch inventory, there was a spot needed to be filled for night patrol and Draco didn’t hesitate to step into the role. He had paced around in his room and rotted in bed the entire evening, he sure could use some fresh air. A nice late stroll...

After all, how hard could it be to patrol the night before classes were set to start? Draco hardly believed anyone would be up to hijinks when they all were anxious to face a new year.  

That is unless it was a Weasley.  

Two of them in fact.  

Thirty minutes in his first patrol, deep in thought, Draco spotted Fred and George looking soaking wet and giggling with delight rushing down the corridors towards him, heading up to what seemed like Gryffindor Tower. He nearly thought he was hallucinating for a moment. 

Draco raised a brow at them.  

“Prefect Bathroom?” Draco smirked, seeing the pale bare chest of the twins as they held a tight grip on the towel around their waist. Flitch’s voice shouted down the hall, out of sight. The twins rush by Draco grinning widely in response.  

Draco pulled out his wand and magic the small pools of water that trailed behind them. The twins had disappeared around the corner and Draco continued on his patrol, planning on heading to a place to think.  

Flitch finally appeared at the end of the corridor, huffing and puffing, struggling to pump his arms in his wobble of a jog to catch up to the long gone perpetrators. 

“Malfoy!” He wheezed out, “Where did they go?” 

“Pardon?” Draco blinked innocently, “Where did who go?” 

“Those blasted twins?” He gulped, his long stringy hair looked wet, as if he himself had been dunked in a pool of water. Draco couldn’t begin to imagine what had transpired.  

“Didn’t see them,” Draco lied, looking around what was now a very still and empty corridor.  

Flitch looked about ready to explode and Draco assured him with the perceived notion.  

“If I would have seen them,” Draco sighed, “I wouldn’t have hesitated deducting points.” 

About to response with a shout, Flitch pressed his lips together and grunted, marching off a bit slower in hopes that he could find the twins, except to his surprise the water trail had disappeared. With his back turned to Draco, he took the opportunity to clean up the rest of the water Flitch had been depending on.  

“Boy?” Flitch called out just as Draco had begun on his way.  

“Yes?” 

“Are you...”  

Draco clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes at the squib. He couldn’t possibly think that he would help the twins. He wasn’t wrong in his hesitation and assessment of him, but Flitch couldn’t possibly know. Flitch sighed and jogged off once again, wheezing out what he was going to do once he got his bloody hands on those twins. 

A faint smile appeared on Draco’s mouth thinking of summer and the laughs the twins brought. Draco mindlessly allowed himself to rise up to the very place he wanted to visit in peace.  

He wasn’t sure if the coast was clear. It was very possible that the class was locked or that Professor Sinistra was there but Draco thought it best to check it out anyways.  

He was fortunate that the latch remained opened and the Astronomy Tower was empty with windows wide open to allow the last of the warm summer breeze to blow in. Draco’s steps echoed and were swallowed by the open air as he crossed the room to take in the dark view of the school grounds from these heights.  

The lake glittered with the moon shine and the top the Forbidden Forest sat by like a thick blanket covering its secrets.  

His eyes flickered up to the sky and disappointment filled his weary chest. There was an incoming army of clouds coming in from the east that would soon block what would be a clear night. Thoughts of constellations, planets, and Trelawney danced around in Draco head.  

He dared to fling one of his legs over the thick parapet to sit himself, leaning against the tall cathedral window sills.  

It was hard to explain, even to himself.  

Aside from the heartbreak he was facing, Draco was now faced with the sudden realization that he had absolutely no idea who he was. Was he being molded or was this just who he was? Someone so sensitive to emotions that he was now burying deep in his heart, afraid of the exposure.  

Even if he could bet all his inheritance on the outcome, he couldn’t convince his heart out of the feelings he had for Hermione.  

The silence in the tower afforded Draco the one thing he couldn’t get in his room. Respite. He allowed the ebb and flow of the breeze remind him to breathe and clear his mind for once. He may have even closed his eyes a bit for a light snooze, letting his head rest against the sill behind him. 

“Draco?” 

Draco’s ear twitched at the sound of his name and he groaned out, protesting the disturbance of his nap. 

“Draco.” 

His eyes flew open, knowing that the sound of that voice was not something he was dreaming. 

Draco’s fear shifted to dread when a small silhouette by the dimly lit door grew larger and Hermione’s concerned face came into view. As if it was now an instinct, his felt his walls build up. His face was cold and stoney, just as defensive as he once was as a first year. 

Careful and calculating around her.  

She sat directly across from him on the parapet, mirroring him and studying him intently. Draco didn’t really feel like being observed especially not this closely.  

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” She quietly said, smiling like she was happy they had found a bit of time to speak to each other. 

Draco sat up straight from the slump of his sleep, vigorously rubbing his face awake.  

“Sorry,” He cleared his throat, “I should be patrolling-” 

“It’s past midnight,” Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, “Past our own curfew.” 

Draco blinked incredulously, had he really dozed off for nearly two hours? 

“Oh,” Draco let out an embarrassed chuckle, “I should go, I suppose patrol duties are a lot harder than I originally thought.” 

He dodged her curious brown eyes, fearing that if she caught the smallest of hints that he was upset, Hermione would have him all figured out.  

And how embarrassing would that be? The tenderness of his feelings for her out in the open when there was no chance of reciprocation.   

“Right,” She airily agreed, “Ron barely made it to bed.” 

Draco’s eyes betrayed him and he looked at her.  

She looked so beautiful with the glow of the moonlight and the breeze sweeping up her now long curly hair. He may have spent the entire summer with her but she looked so different from the two weeks they spent apart. Draco could swear she was more filled in and matured, he just couldn’t place a finger on exactly what gave him the impression.  

He mentally cursed his teenaged brain when his eyes trailed down. 

Hermione’s smile faltered as the seconds ticked by, “Long time no see?”  

Draco closed his eyes knowing he’d have to find a place to hide this memory. He nodded stiffly, “We saw each other weeks ago, Granger.” 

“Yes but you didn’t expect to come across me, did you?” She playfully added to which Draco remained silent in his empty thoughts, watching her like some tragic story. 

Hermione, not one to allow another second of silence, frowned, “You're upset?” 

Draco shook his head, “No, no... Well a week at the manor kind of sucked the life out of me.” 

Draco wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t telling her the complete truth either. Speaking about Voldemort isn't something he wanted to do at the moment.

“Oh,” She breathed out. Her dark eyes flicked to the side contemplating the sights of the school grounds. He was surprised how easily Hermione accepted his lame excuse without any more inquiries. 

“How was Bulgaria?” Draco asked, knowing the worst and fearing that she would divulge details that would only add salt to injury. He didn’t know why he even asked because deep down, he knew he wanted to know. It was a sick feeling that he wanted to hurt himself all over again but he needed the confirmation, straight from those tempting lips of hers. 

A sting of hurt washed over his face as he cleared his throat, trying to compose himself.  

Hermione winced shyly but something in her nervous smile was telling. An icy cold dagger began to poke at his chest waiting for the moment to rip him open again. 

“Beautiful,” She sighed out, “Viktor lives out in the countryside, and it has loads of sheep and cattle. We had fresh milk and honey every day and the best part was we were allowed to venture to the beach by ourselves. It was some of the most breathtaking views I’d ever seen. It kinda felt nice to know there was still live out there, blissfully unaware of what’s going on here.” 

She paused. Draco almost pouted. He could have sheep and cattle on his rolling hills on his estate... if they sacrificed the large garden his mother loved.

“Is that bad to say?” She winced at her own admission that she rather not deal with the inevitable storm heading their way. Draco shook his head. He would also rather escape and pretend that nothing bad was happening because that was easier. 

“And,” Draco began, leading her to exactly what he needed to hear, “Krum asked you, didn’t he?” 

Hermione shifted around in her seat uncomfortably, “Well, yes.” 

“And you said yes.” Draco confirmed before having Hermione’s words hurt him because he already knew. For Merlin’s sake, with Ron bellowing out her personal life, he was sure half the school knew by now. It didn’t matter if she confirmed or tiptoed around it.  

The knife took a plunge when she nodded and Draco braced himself for the real pain. He was sure that he could feel himself bleeding out once more. He kept his jaw firm, fearing that a quiver of his chin would conquer his stoney gaze. 

“Well Ron didn’t take it so well as you saw,” Hermione huffed crossing her arms defiantly, “But yes, Viktor asked me to be his girlfriend... It wasn’t stupid to agree, was it?” 

“You’re not stupid,” Draco assured, the pain from his head was now radiating into the left side of his ribs. It seemed like Hermione was injected with a ton of insecurity by the way she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Draco blamed Ron for causing the uncertainty. Draco hated that although he didn’t want to see Hermione in love with someone else, he also couldn’t deny her the best.  

If that’s what she wanted... 

Draco cursed, since when did he become such a compassionate git? He stopped himself from scowling, knowing he was giving off the wrong impression. 

“I don’t know,” She sighed, he eyes wandered off staring out the windows with the best view of the lake off into the distance, “What if... Maybe Ron's right.” 

“Well do you like Krum?” Draco asked, driving the wound deeper into his heart.  

“Well obviously,” She smiled down at the table shyly, “I wouldn’t entertain anyone that I didn’t like.” 

His heart winced in pain. 

“But it’s just dating,” She sighed exasperated, “I’m not in love or anything like that. It’s just nice, you know? You’ve dated, right?” 

Draco rolled his eyes over to her, an annoyed expression on his face. Draco didn’t mean to assume but it was quite obvious that Draco never really had an official girlfriend all these years. Girls that he had flings with, months on end at times did not count. 

At least not for him.  

There was never a talk of labels or seriousness or feelings. It was strictly physical. Thinking of how long ago it felt since his last fling, Draco couldn’t imagine how Hermione hadn’t noticed how he wasn’t involved with anyone last year. He had a laser focus on her.

This time Hermione rolled her own eyes, not believing the unspoken answer.  

“Don’t know why Ron isn’t completely happy with it,” Draco said honestly, “You’re dating his idol, doesn’t that make him cool by association? Or isn’t Potter enough for Ronald?” 

“Don’t be mean, Draco.” Hermione let out a groan followed by a small laugh, “He said something along the lines of being oblivious to what was right in front of me.” 

She cocked her head at him, in thought and his heart ached for her. He wouldn’t have thought that Ron would try to stick up for him. It seemed like it was pretty obvious to everyone at Grimmauld, why was it not to Hermione? 

“You don’t think he was talking about himself, do you?” Hermione winced at the thought of Ron having a crush on her. Draco relaxed.  

“No,” He shook his head, “That’s just Ron. He’s too absorbed over Daphne, I think.”  

Hermione gave an agreeing nodded, “Right? That’s what I told Harry. Doesn't seem convinced.” 

Draco speculated that Harry wasn’t convince over other reasons.  

Draco yawned out, “If he liked you or not, Ron should still support your decision.” 

Hermione scoffed out in utter happiness, “Thank you! Exactly!” 

Hermione fell silent, her lips parting in the most delicious way that Draco couldn’t have. He found the small consolation prize that even if he couldn’t have her, physically Krum couldn't either.  

Draco struggled to keep his eyes open, glancing at her lips made his own heavy with desire to kiss her. He wouldn’t dare, obviously, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he ached to kiss her all the while his heart was screaming at him to stop hurting himself.  

Draco cleared his throat and shook his head. He tried thinking of seeing the silver lining.  

What was that silver lining? 

“You’re a good friend,” Hermione quietly added. Draco nearly laughed, bitterly. It was so fucking cliche. But it was then when he found it, as she rubbed a new thin bangle that he was sure was new. It was engraved with the initials H and V. It should have bothered him more but a sober thought crossed his mind. As much as Hermione was taken by Krum, there’s no way he would be able to see her every day, like Draco, and that was something he hung on to. 

“If you’re happy then that’s all that needs to be said,” Draco gulped a knot down his throat. He realized that perhaps that shift in matureness he noted in Hermione wasn’t that she had physically changed, no.  

She was carrying herself differently as if she was slightly more independent, slightly more confident, more... feminine. And that’s when Draco looked back at her lips that were smiling from his assurance.  

She had been kissed. Someone else had the privilege to know her taste and it was all it took to have the dagger’s final plunge drive itself into Draco’s chest. He could feel his heart bleeding out while she went on about her fantastic week in Bulgaria. Her words were muffled and hard to hear but Draco sat there hoping to engage with her because moments like these were far and few between.  

He had looked for any opportunity to talk to her last year, now he couldn’t wait to get away as far as possible.  

“I’ve got to go.” Draco abruptly stood up, “We’ve. It’s getting late. Classes...” 

Hermione blinked up at him and glanced at her watch. She looked like the happiness she was exuding was stolen from her as she reluctantly agreed.  

“Oh, sure...” 

They both quietly padded toward the door. Draco pocketing his hands and Hermione fiddling with hers. 

“W-we could stay a bit longer.” Hermione whispered out, pointing with her thumb behind her at the parapet where they were just sitting, “If you want.” 

Friend. They were just friends. 

Draco’s eyes flicked back to the parapet and then back to her.  

“Who knows when we’ll have a next time,” She tried to convince him with a broad smile and as tempting as it was. 

“Don’t worry Granger,” Draco smiled, raising his hand to ruffle her hair, “There will always be a next time.” 

With that Draco calmly left Hermione up in the tower stunned and confused.  

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

“Assigned seating?” Ron groaned out, “He must be mental!” 

“Five points from Gryffindor,” Snape snapped, looking at his class notes at his desk, “For Weasley's incapability to keep his mouth shut.” 

With Draco’s recent acknowledgement of kinship, this would have prompted Draco to loudly agree with Ron, even he was thinking that Snape was a bit strange for thinking it was even a good idea. Alas, he kept his mouth firmly closed but exchanged a look from Harry who looked more disheveled than usual.  

Perhaps, he had his very first lesson from Snape last night. He certainly looked the way Draco felt after Snape was finished with him.

Personally, Draco felt knackered as well considering last night’s patrol. He hadn’t expected to plop onto his goose feathered bed so late and immediately knock out. He didn’t even attempt to change. Draco woke up in the wrinkled knots of last night’s uniform. 

Draco yawned, watching pairs of students be selected. Most of them were stunned with the selection but overall, it was a tense anticipation waiting for their names to be called. Snape would scan his scroll and check off names slowly until a few remained.  

Draco figured that Snape wanted to separate Potter and Weasley and he did.  

Potter was paired with Parkinson and Ron with Blaise Zabini. 

The stunned looked on Parkinson’s face when she realized who she was paired with. It looked like a mix of hatred and pure awe considering she's never spoken directly to Potter. Aside from a tease she would throw here and there, Pansy awkwardly approached their assigned table. Draco raised a brow, interesting indeed.  

Ron dragged himself over to his table with Zabini. There wasn’t much protest in his face that was directed into his new partner. It seemed like the reason for his disgruntled look was because the table he was assigned was directly in front of Snape’s.  

Draco looked towards the other three left over and gulped.  

There was only Goyle, Longbottom, and Granger left. Draco sensed it was really down to two contenders and one of them was off limits.  

No way Snape would allow him to pair up with his own housemate. Hermione and Draco connected their gaze and he could see she was calculating the chances, a lot more hopeful than Draco ever would be. Because the moment Draco was paired up, it was exactly who he thought Snape would say. 

Neville’s frightened face came into his view and Draco hid his expected disappointment well as they looked at each other. 

“Longbottom! Malfoy!” Snape called out, “Take table two, behind Weasley and Zabini.” 

A stunned silence filled the room. Most Gyrffindors glared at Draco, as if he had already done some unforgivable thing to Longbottom while his housemates gave him pitying looks.  

Longbottom was the worst in class and having him as a partner was as good as sacrificing their marks to the gutter. 

“Last Table,” Snape continued just as Draco took his seat next to a shaking Longbottom, “Granger, Goyle.” 

It was said and done. This was now their Potions class for the rest of the year. It was obvious that Hermione was battling emotions with her own pair. She turned to Ron and Harry, a pleading look in her face. Her sights flickered over to Draco who was absentmindedly chewing on his bottom lip, trying not to harshly judge Neville who was already a wreck before the lesson even started. 

Draco managed to miss the pink dotting at Hermione’s cheeks when Snape began his class. 

Draco did his best to have patience with Longbottom that lesson. He was already a jumpy kind of bloke especially around Professor Snape. Draco couldn’t imagine what he was thinking having to be paired up with him. 

The entire class was spent on reading up on the Invigoration Draught and working with their partner on the best course of action to brew the potion before answering a few questions on their assignment.  

Neville mainly stared at Draco as if he was waiting for him to throw an insult at him.  

Draco peered over his book, waiting for Neville to contribute to their partnership. 

“Did you write the answer down? I just read it out loud.” Draco calmly asked. 

“Sorry,” Neville apologized taking his quill and setting it to the parchment. He paused. “Can you repeat it once more?” 

Draco closed his eyes, “Longbottom, are you not the best in Herbology in the school?” 

A slight reddening of his neck showed signs of his humility, “Well perhaps our year, I- I don’t know about the school...” 

Draco blinked, “Well I thought you’d know more as to why the potion favors stewed mandrake rather than dittany.” 

Neville sat up straight, a glazed look on his stunned face, “Oh well the mandrake’s root has known properties that are energetic while dittany leaves lean towards healing. If we’re brewing a potion to have an invigorating sensation, considering what we want of the potion, it’s obvious we want more or a punch.” 

Draco smirked.  

Neville blinked.  

“Oh,” He softly said, “OH. I- I didn’t know it was that simple.” 

Draco scoffed, rubbing his face with a heavy hand down his cheek, “You’ve got to be joking. Didn’t you ever make the connection from Herbology to Potions?” 

Neville frowned, “I just like seeing things alive, you know? I don’t really look at something and see how I can benefit from it being ripped away from its life source, you know, dead.” 

Draco was stunned but, nevertheless, he cleared his throat to focus back on the task at hand. 

“Half of these ingredients are not in our potion’s kit and I know that Snape wouldn’t willing give some of these ingredients out from the school supply closet. We might have to pick some fresh Shrivelfigs before anyone else gets to them and Professor Sprout has an area where we can dry out some ginger roots, right?” 

Neville nodded, “Yeah, I can ask her but the student area has a lot of foot traffic, not that it’s bad but I think it’s better if I take some ginger and dry it up in my dorm. My window gets the most light at the end of summer anyways...” 

Draco gave him a curt smile, taking their assignment and finishing off their question with a flourish of a quill. He looked over their plan and made a mental note to get some shrivelfigs right after this class which grew plenty by the Quidditch Pitch. 

“Great,” Draco said with finality, “We should be prepared for next Monday then.” 

Snape cleared his throat, looking at his watch indicating the class was almost over.  

“Please make sure to finish up as soon as possible, Also, in preparation for your midterms,” Snape paused causing an eruption of confusion from his class.  

Midterms Exams? It was only their first lesson of the year. The soft protest of the students assured that Draco was not alone in his surprise. 

 “Eighteen inch essay on the properties of Moonstone.” 

The class groaned.  

“One scroll for each table,” Snape glared, “This is to aid you in your OWL’s, but fair warning, slack off and you’ll regret having your potions partner do all the work. I’ve made sure your OWLs are as gruesome as possible this year so it will only benefit you to... collaborate if you want to survive the inundation of homework you will have this year.”  

Neville and Draco exchanged looks.  

“Library after dinner then,” Draco announced, “Tonight. See you there.” 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Between hunting down any information about the Department of Mysteries and horcruxes in his spare time, his OWL work, and minor exams here and there, Draco had no clue how he had managed to survive his first month back.  

The amount of time he spent in his dorm was now strictly for sleep. None of the Slytherin fifth years had the time to relax and lounge about with the other students in the common room. They were usually the first ones to wake and the last ones to drag in, Draco being the last. There was so much that was constantly on his mind that when mentions of Quidditch began to whisper around him, Draco insanely felt relief to know there was something else to do.  

He honestly had no time to really feel his heartbreak when he was pretty occupied, and having a million of things to do only meant that he was well excused in ignoring the Golden trio. 

They were all extraordinarily busy. 

It also helped that Hermione was always on top of everything, including signing up for Prefect duty hours.  

Draco was grateful for it, really, he made sure to always take nights that didn’t have her on patrol. It was easier not to think of her when he didn’t have to see her. 

Even as he looked over his History essay, Draco couldn’t help but to feel thankful for the amount of work he had.  

It was the perfect excuse to ignore Hermione.  

“Ahem,” A voice cleared their throat. Judging by the tone it was a low sultry kind of voice that piqued Draco’s interest. His eyes flickered up and that same Ravenclaw Prefect, Mildred Clearwater, gave him a curt polite smile.  

“Is that the essay for Professor Binns?” She asked, peering over a book she had taken off the shelf. Her amber eyes didn’t stay on him for long as she glanced back at the shelf for another book to grab.  

“Uh,” Draco hummed out, “Yeah.” 

“Thought so,” She said, reverting her attention back on him, “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound intrusive. I just couldn’t help but to read a bit over your shoulder when I walked by...” 

Draco rolled his eyes. 

“What about my essay?” He drawled out, knowing she was a few seconds away from blurting out a correction. A lot of Ravenclaws were like that. They always wanted to be right, it was in their nature to prove themselves worthy of knowledge.  

“It’s the- well, you wrote down that the Goblin Rebellion was in 1888,” Clearwater blinked rapidly, she tucked a strand of loose wavy hair behind her ear with her free hand, while the other cradled a stack of books on her thin waist, “It’s 1886.” 

Draco stared at her for a moment too long before she sputtered out an apology.  

“You know how Professor Binns is, as boring as he is,” She began, “He really is an asshole about exact dates. He’ll knock you down a full grade for that especially in our OWL year. My sister told me...” 

Draco took a long look at Mildred and licked his lips as he scanned over his work.  

“Actually, no,” He admitted, “I didn’t know.” 

It was enough for the Ravenclaw to take the hint that Draco, as lazy as he may look, had never gotten anything but top scores in History of Magic. Still, the warning was welcomed, and Draco smiled at the girl who had been his History classmate since his first year. 

Draco gave a half-hearted shrug, “Thanks Clearwater.” 

“It’s Millie,” She corrected, pressing her lips together, “You can call me Millie. If you need help with your History essays, I’m glad to help. It took me a while to adjust to Binn’s requirements. Even when I don’t have time to write an essay for him, I know what he looks for. I can conjure an essay ten minutes before class and I get a solid A.” 

His brows rose. Perhaps there was more to this Clearwater than he ever paid attention to.  

“Still,” Draco furrowed his brows in thought, “How is it possible to know that much history on the top of your head to conjure an essay that quickly?” 

That question was perfect enough to cause Mildred to crumble in admission. She nervously tucked her long straight brown hair behind her ear.  

"Mum’s an Archivist and dad’s Head of the Magical Historic Archives in the Ministry. I have events etched into my mind from all the dinners discussions. They've been disappointed that me and my sister haven’t been the kind of history students that reflected their legacy. I tend to favor more logical pursuits like Arithmancy- I’m rambling. Sorry.” Her other arm cradled the books she chose, hugging them tightly to her chest. 

Draco blinked and nodded slowly, “No, I get you. I’ve had tutors since I can remember and father gets in a rage when he receives end of year performances and I'm not the top student in each class.” 

Mildred let out a soft laugh causing Draco to stare at her for longer than comfortable. There was something about her that Draco couldn’t quite place a finger on. Mildred took noticed and nervously shifted her weight around on her feet.  

“I’ll let you know.” Draco nodded, “If I need any help that is.” 

Clearwater smiled before she bolted away and the impression that lingered behind was quickly forgotten as he corrected the date on his essay and bulldozed ahead on what was a very late, but regular night.