fervere

Chapter Twenty Two

“You had to be there. To see him,” Ron’s soft strained voice pierced the eerie silence of the Headmaster’s Office. The stillness of the office was an uneasy one. Draco who had frequented Dumbledore’s a few times was used to the magical gadgets and curious paintings that hung on the walls.  

Now it felt like the trinkets were frozen in time as everyone was holding their breath. 

Dumbledore had stepped out a moment or two ago to order a few Auror’s towards the Department of Mysteries. Snape had taken Harry for a quick rundown of occlumency in another room adjacent to the office while they were instructed to stay put. There were the soft murmurs of Snape’s instructions coming from behind the closed door.  

Draco tried to block the memory of Harry having a full raging fit in his dorm. Harry was pale and soaked in what Draco could only assume was his sweat. His vision looked clouded and disorientated. 

Ron was seriously disturbed by a very uncharacteristic actions of Harry who was tossing and turning in his bed, pleading for help and at the same time resisting it as well. Draco felt the chilling whispers of the heavy darkness, the particular emotional sludge that reminded him of Voldemort's visit.  

“Petrificus Totalus.” Draco had gulped, pointing his wand at Harry. He muttered to Ron that he should levitate his friend while his mind reeled.  

The aura around Harry had completely shift and the difference was jarring to Draco. It had immediately scared an inner part of him he had compartmentalized. He had hung back in the shadows when Ron lead Harry's floating body down to their homely common room.  

Hermione was down there waiting, the look of pure shock when the three of them joined her. She threw the invisibility cloak over them and Draco led them out.  

It felt like the longest trek around the castle before they had reached the Headmaster’s office. They all had walked in silence, the loudest of its kind with a storm of questions lingering at the tip of their tongues.  

Draco had released Harry from the jinx before they entered the office. By then, that dark aura had left Harry, but still shaken from his dream Harry barged into Dumbledore’s office and made a claim that left Ron in shambles.  

“It wasn’t him. ” Ron whispered loudly, pulling Draco back into the present, “Like it was someone else looking at me.” 

Hermione chewed on her thumbnail nervously, “But Harry’s had other nightmares before hasn’t he... and you know how unpredictable his scar is when it hurts.” 

Ron gave his friend a long look, “Hermione, he said my dad was attacked in the Department of Mysteries. You think Dumbledore would make such a fuss if he wasn’t worried? How would Harry know about it being patrolled at all? It was never discussed in the Order’s meetings.” 

Hermione immediately flashed her sights back to Draco. She had just realized something, a connection she’s never made. Draco saw the moment is crossed her mind. 

“You know something, don’t you?” Hermione narrowed her eyes. Draco remained silent wondering what she had figured out. 

“That one time in the library last year, ” Hermione unfocused her eyes, recalling, “You... you were reading something about the Department of Mysteries, weren’t you?” 

Draco had sat next to Ron on the arm rest of the handsome guest chair. Draco sucked his teeth lightly and slowly came to a nod. He had been thinking of that very moment recently.  

“You’ve known for ages that he wants something from there.” Hermione scoffed, “The Order told us he wants something but they didn’t tell us what it was, much less where it would be. And the only thing worthy of value for Voldemort is a prophecy.” 

Ron blinked fast, “Wait, you’re the intel that tipped of the Order about this weapon Voldemort was looking for?” 

Snape’s voice raised from the other room, sounding like he was scolding Harry for something. 

Draco lingered on Hermione’s confused face.  

“Yes,” He simply said.  

Both Ron and Hermione openly gawked at him as if they had never realized how instrumental he had been considered by Dumbledore, why he had put so much time and value in nuturing him outside of the scope of his family through Snape.  

“That amongst others things...” He winced, “The summer before fourth year, my father knew of Voldemort’s return despite doubting the possibility of the success. Considering the events that transpired, I’m certain he started to construct a plan to please Voldemort if it ever came to light that, um, our family has been careless with his precious belongings.” 

Ron chewed on his lip in thought, “You mean the Chamber of Secrets.” 

Draco was surprised how fast Ron made the connection.  

“Yes.” 

Hermione, being petrified during the climax of events during their second year, exchanged looks with Ron.  

“What?” She closed her eyes tightly, “What do you mean?” 

Ron sighed, “You remember the train ride back from second year. Harry told us about Tom Riddle’s diary? And how it possessed Ginny to open the Chamber of Secrets.” 

“Yes but-” 

“Father slipped it to Ginny.” Draco twisted his face in pain, fully knowing how terrible of a catalyst his family was. Hermione rolled her eyes up.  

“Yes, we know.” She said with the annoyance of her former twelve year old self.  

Draco gave a tight fake smile, “Well it could be that the diary might have been something invaluable to Voldemort.” 

“Like, another weapon? How so?” Ron asked.  

The word was right at the tip of Draco tongue but couldn’t recall exactly the word that his father had written in his own journal.  

“I don’t know but I think it worried Dumbledore and it certainly panicked father to suggest that a prophecy would only be equal of worth to Voldemort.” Draco held in a wince of embarrassment, “So that we don’t face harsher punishments from Voldemort for not guarding his possessions better. If there was an attack then it’s safe to assume that Voldemort definitely took up my father’s offer. The rumors the Order were gathering are very much solid plans as far as I know.” 

“But why would Voldemort care so much for a diary?” Hermione paced around.  

“Perhaps the wanker hid his creepy plans in it?” Ron speculated, causing Draco to smirk.  

Hermione collapsed into her own limitations. She rubbed her face trying to wake herself up to help herself focus.  

“Okay so your father thinks that retrieving this prophecy is on par with the loss of Voldemort’s diary?” Hermione asked.  

Draco nodded.  

“How can a prophecy and a diary hold the same importance?” Hermione muttered to herself.  

Draco licked his lips and shrugged, “Actually, the way that father wrote in his journal made it seem like... like the diary is a fatal loss and the prophecy is simply a bandage. It’s merely a superficial offering to appease him.” 

At that moment the fireplace roared in a green blazing flame and Dumbledore stepped out. He had heavy news to announce. Arthur Weasley was indeed attacked in the Department of Mysteries but Dumbledore assured Ron that his father was rattled but doing well at St. Mungo’s.  

With the news that everything was well, Ron fainted.  

Draco figured it was the pent-up stress that finally had a release from the confirmation of his father. Dumbledore motioned back at the other shocked teenagers.  

“I’ll call Madam Pomfrey to come by, she’ll be needed by Mr. Potter anyways,” Dumbledore announced, “Mr. Malfoy. Ms. Granger. I think it’s best to head back to your dorms. I’ll make sure both friends are taken care of. I’ll be informing the rest of the Weasley’s in the morning. From what I gathered, there was a potent sleeping potion in the pumpkin juice this evening. I’ll have to gather some resources to launch an investigation on how that happened.” 

Hermione and Draco exchanged looks. There was only one obvious answer to that and it seemed like it was apparent to Dumbledore too.  

Umbridge. 

“I suppose both of you didn’t drink the pumpkin juice during dinner.” Dumbledore asked.  

Draco shook his head recalling the faint scent of the Valarian root he first believed to be on his sleeves.  

“I didn’t try much of anything tonight,” Hermione confessed, “And Ron usually drinks milk.” 

Dumbledore smiled, truly grateful that there was someone there to help Harry, “Best to get a bit of rest. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of questions in the morning and many more with the days to come.” 

That was enough to let them know that Dumbledore wasn’t going to be answering questions any time soon. 

Draco bowed his head and turned to Hermione whose jaw was firm. She hesitated as if she had been waiting for more information from Dumbledore. When a pause of silence filled the room, she caved and excused herself for the night. Draco followed her out.  

Hermione stormed off in a faster pace than Draco expected her to. He didn’t have the energy to race after her so he lingered, trailing behind. Consumed in her thoughts, Hermione whipped around and marched back to him, poking him in the chest.  

“You knew,” She hissed, “Didn’t you?” 

“Hermione-” 

“You knew that your father was planning an infiltration of the Department of Mysteries?” She scoffed, “You- You’re unbelievable!” 

Draco sighed, “What did you expect me to do?” 

“Let us know!” Hermione rolled her eyes as if it was the most obvious answer, “Warned us?” 

“Anything I came across,” Draco began, “Was told to Dumbledore.” 

“But-” 

“Hermione,” Draco lowered his gaze in seriousness but mostly from exhaustion, “You cannot fault me for it.” 

“You could have told me !” She argued back.  

“Would you have believed it, coming from me?” Draco shook his head, “I-I didn’t know what kind of relationship I would have with any of you last year. Despite that, I confided in Dumbledore. Any small detail that felt insignificant to me, he knows. And anything I missed, Snape knows .” 

She had opened her mouth to protest but whatever thought she had was caught in her throat. There was a flash in her eyes that Draco recognized. She was remembering all of summer, when he would be reduced to almost nothing after Snape’s lessons.  

She gulped, “Thats... how you gained Dumbledore’s trust.” 

Draco shrugged, “I think he saw something in me because he trusted me way before I had the courage to help.” 

Hermione’s fury began to diminish and Draco sensed that when her hand flew to her forehead and she let out a slow sigh.  

“I don’t know what to think any more. I feel like I’m functioning on nothing but fumes.” She wearily sighed. Truthfully, Draco was also tired. It was now nearly three in the morning and although it was now the weekend; Draco needed a good sleep.  

Draco looked over his shoulder to a staircase that led straight to the dungeons. He weighed the choice of parting with Hermione or walking her to her House.  

Draco shook his head.  

It was enough time spent with her.  

He should be content with the unexpected time he was able to have without worrying who it was in front of. 

Draco pointed over his shoulder, “I’ll be going this way.” 

“Oh.” 

“Should we head back to rest or?” Draco asked, trailing off thinking she might have more to question him with.  

Hermione stared, mouth parted, “Oh, I left Harry with his cloak.” 

She closed her eyes as if she had missed the opportunity to spend more time with him. The though warmed Draco. The thought that as angry and confused as she was about him concerning a very serious matter and she would still willingly want to be around him was tugging at his heartstrings in a very different way.  

It was similar to the way that Neville’s appreciation caused Draco to face the stark realization that kindness and good-natured people were always willing to forgive and start fresh. It was something that Draco hadn’t really experienced nor thought possible.  

“These are my stairs to the dungeons.” Draco announced, “It would be kind of out of my way to walk you-” 

“Oh!” Hermione dazed expression snapped back into focus, “Oh no, don’t worry about me. Go ahead. Yeah. That's ridicul- I mean, You’ve already done it once tonight. I’m perfectly capable...” 

Draco licked his lips, wanting to get a longer look at the girl he loved.  

“Good night, Hermione.” Draco softly wished. He slowly stepped away, thinking of all the times he couldn’t help but to soften at the sight of her. He knew it was wrong but at least the weird limbo he found himself in, had her within his reach.  

They had moments that fluttered his heart into glowing embers like the start of a fever of his love for her. Like before, he would do anything to make sure she was safe and protected. Even if it meant he didn’t get to have his love reciprocated, even if he died trying, he wanted to blindly follow wherever she led him, even if it was to his own demise. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Draco looked over the scroll one last time, narrowing his eyes at Neville’s surprisingly neat handwriting. They both were hidden behind stack of books, extra quills, a bundle of fluxweed next to fresh rolled parchment paper ready to be used. They had to revise their first draft essay of moonstones and Draco wasn’t one hundred percent confident this time around in his work considering how little time he had for anything really.  

Draco didn’t think the Inquisitorial Squad would take up too much time but nonetheless, he had another meeting he needed to attend to that night.  

As far as Draco knew, there hadn’t been any meetings for Dumbledore’s Army for a week after the attack on Ron’s dad out of respect of course, but also, Draco suspected that Harry was now having daily lessons with Snape. It was now understood that Harry could be a potential danger not only to himself but to the entire school.  

Draco let out a tired sigh, rubbing his eyes a bit too harshly leaving an imprint of fading white dots in his vision. 

Daphne was taking good care of Ron and his brothers when they returned from visiting St. Mungos. The twins tried their jokes and bits on Daphne at breakfast who gave them a good laugh while Ron and Ginny seemed fed up with their antics. Ron had become reserved and Daphne made sure that he was actually eating enough, after Ron uncharacteristically left an entire plate of food untouched the first day back. As for Ginny, who was always the tougher one to crack, seemed vulnerable enough to open up to Daphne like an older sister.  

Hermione had of course been there for the Weasley’s but Daphne had been a load off Hermione’s shoulders tending to their wellbeing. While Daphne was caring for their emotional state, Hermione was carefully making sure they were all keeping up with their studies, even Harry who was looking worse for wear.  

Draco couldn’t help but to relate to what Harry was going through the moment with Snape’s lessons. However, he didn’t have much time to slip Potter a few tidbits of tips that had helped him. 

He really needed to catch up on studying for Potions with Neville to feel like he was staying on top of his work, instead of feeling like he was always trying to catch up.  

His home schooling had prepared him well into the third and even fourth year of Hogwarts, without much effort on his part. Draco didn’t realize how blessed he was for being years ahead of his school work before. This year was perhaps the only year where he felt the universal student panic that warranted late nights and red eyes.  

He paced around the library, glancing at his watch and burning a hole in the parchment with his glare, hoping he could find a point to continue expanding and bump up their marks. Neville’s suggestions weren’t awful if Draco was being honest, but it didn’t feel like it was enough.  

“We could add a connection to its use in love potions and the Daught of Peace?” Neville suggested, “It’s curious that moonstone is used in both, don’t you think?” 

Draco wished he could have had a more intelligent, well thought out response to Neville but, truthfully, Draco was in an awful mood. 

That morning during their History lesson Draco learned a bit of gossip being talked about within a circle of Ravenclaw girls when he entered the classroom. 

“Did you read Krum’s letter to Granger?” Padma pulled Millie in excitedly, “He was basically asking her to go visit him in Bulgaria for the holidays.”  

“He must really love her,” Mildred chimed in, before throwing a look at Draco who was now scowling at his wand that he was fiddling with.   

It had ripped a new jagged wound for Draco when he learned that Hermione was thinking of spending yet another break with Krum.   

Draco must have looked disturbed thinking of another moment Krum will have with Hermione because Longbottom was cowering into his seat, as if he was afraid that Draco was going to explode on him. 

“Or maybe not,” Neville cleared his throat, “It’s probably a stupid connection to make.” 

Draco huffed, only added to the unease of Longbottom who didn’t know what would please Draco.  

“It’s not that,” Draco admitted, “I have a lot on my mind Neville, sorry.” 

“You know moonstones are quite beautiful.” Neville piped up quietly rereading their essay, “It was my Gran’s wedding stone, a family heirloom, said to represent the deep love that’s imbedded in the stone.” 

Draco recalled that even a small pebble of a moonstone was enough to enchant an entire year of hormonal teenagers looking for a bit of passion.  

Draco snorted that Umbridge and her restrictive decrees also had the same effect. 

“S-she said if I were to ever marry, she’ll give me mum’s old wedding ring so I could present it to my wife.” Neville blurted out and by the look of his face, immediately regretted it. Draco didn’t react as he usually would have if any signs of vulnerability were shown to him. He gave Neville an approving nod as if he understood.  

“Mum’s got a necklace with moonstone,” Draco casually said, “She never wears it.” 

“Oh.” 

Draco stuck his tongue in his cheek, rereading part of the essay where it discussed unproven claims of moonstones. Something about what Neville had mentioned piqued his interest about a topic he had long forgotten. 

“You really think they keep a reserve of moonstones in the Department of Mysteries?” Draco mused out loud, watching Neville from the corner of his eye. Neville seemed tired but alert.  

It had been a pretty long Thursday evening working on their essay revision that would help them for their winter exams. They had nearly six weeks of preparations, but considering that a lot of classes were also holding their own exams before Christmas, it didn’t feel like enough time to prepare. 

Draco and Neville had been cooped up in the library right after their lunch and hadn’t left since, their studying spilling into other classes like Charms and Astronomy. 

“Well Gran said that the Ministry has a weird investment with the Department of Mysteries,” Neville cleared his throat, “The Ministry claims it’s research but there’s something more to it, I think. Why else would they be so guarded and secretive? Plus do you know how much funding it requires to keep it active? Did you know when you enter there’s a huge circular room with dozens of doors a-and that you can open the same door twice and it won’t be the same room.” 

Draco gave his partner a quizzical look.  

“How do you know that?” Draco asked, thinking of all the books he had tried to read that even mentioned the Department of Mysteries. He was lucky if he had come across a sentence worth noting. But a description of the inside? 

Neville turned red, “I uh...” 

“I thought only Unspeakables were able to access and give access to the Department of Mysteries.” Draco narrowed his eyes in thought. 

“Well, yes but sometimes...” Neville flustered. 

“Neville... Is your Gran an Unspeakable?” 

“No!” He blurted out, “It’s my great aunt, my grandma’s sister that used to work for-” 

“ Sh e was the an Unspeakable?” Draco desperately asked, uncaring that he wasn’t exactly coming across as nonchalant. It felt like after months of fruitless research he finally had stumbled upon information of worth. He was starving for anything at this point to lead him out of the rut.  

“What? No,” Neville frowned, leaning away at Draco’s sudden invasive stare, “She didn’t work for that side of the Ministry. She worked in the Archives.” 

“How would she know then?” Draco asked, almost annoyed. If there were ways of knowing about the Department of Mysteries without having to work there, then surely Draco wouldn’t have been struggling so much.  

The feeling like he was almost at a breakthrough was intoxicating.  

Perhaps he had jumped the gun sending Sephina to look for a map in the wrong place, perhaps it was much simpler than that. Draco began to search within his mind the key he had right at his finger tips when the confirmation suddenly appeared, with a stack of book in her arms and a cheerful smile.  

“Is everything alright?” Millie said, blinking innocently at the both of them, “Mind if I join you?” 

Draco paused for a moment, his mouth parting in realization before he slowly nodded.  

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Draco didn’t have time to be discrete.  

November was half way done and he needed a way to have Millie trust him enough to divulge more information about her parents who she had once mentioned they were also Archivist. If Neville’s relative knew so much about the Department of Mysteries and never worked there, then the next best thing was to lead through the achieves to dig up as much information as possible.  

For once, in a long time it seems, Draco had a sense of excitement feeling he was close to something tangible.  

Millie would gladly join Neville and him to study and more often than not, Draco would stare at her, wondering the best way to crack her.  

Millie often avoided eye contact with him, and he wondered if perhaps she sensed that he had something on his mind. Perhaps it was written all over his face the way he was constantly searching for a lead up to ask her more about her parents.  

Neville cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting his gaze between Draco and Millie.  

Millie was kind enough to help look over Neville’s history scores to help him fill in the gaps of events he forgotten. Strangely enough, Millie and Neville seemed quite friendly towards each other despite the fact that Draco had never seen them interact ever.  

“A third cousin,” Neville softly explained, “From my Grans side. They’re a family of Archivist you know.” 

Of course , Draco thought, it made sense and the connection only made his even more eager to know he was on a good path.  

The past few study sessions didn’t feel so tense, like they did right now and Draco didn’t know why suddenly Millie was growing quiet and Neville more odd.  

“I think I should get going,” Neville cleared his throat, “It’s getting close to curfew.” 

Millie’s head snapped up.  

“No it’s not,” She cocked her head, “We have more than two hours before we start patrol.” 

“Got to run,” Neville said, ignoring the fact. He was busy grabbing all his things, seemingly wanting to get out of there as soon as possible but Draco knew he had somewhere to be. It was the reason why Draco ensured he was on patrol that night.  

Hermione sent him a note with a simple word that morning.  
 

Tonight  

 
That along with a knowing glance from her during potions was enough to let Draco know they were going to start up with their Dumbledore Army nonsense. Draco made a mental note to make sure to be posted on the sixth floor to make sure no one gets anywhere near the seventh floor.  

Once Neville had ran off, Millie began to quietly put away her belongings causing Draco to snap his sights back on her.  

“You’re leaving too?” He asked.  

Millie shrugged, still avoiding his eye contact, “I- I think there’s no one signed up for the Prefect Bathroom. I think a nice dip would be nice before duties tonight.” 

Draco gritted his teeth. 

The Prefect’s bathroom happened to be on the seventh floor. Would she notice an extraordinarily large number of students walking around and then disappearing? Draco inhaled sharply.  

“Actually,” He began, “I think I did.” 

It was a bad lie but it hopefully would work.  

“Draco Malfoy,” She sighed out, “You’re acting very strange recently.” 

That was not what he was expecting her to say.  

She chewed on her lip, “I know you didn’t sign up for today but if you must-” 

“No, you’re right,” Draco admitted, “I didn’t but I haven’t used the Prefect’s Bathroom at all.” 

Millie blinked, “Wait, not once?” 

Draco shook his head, “Been busy. Inquisitorial Squad and all...” 

Millie slowly nodded as the information sank in, “Is Umbridge still on edge?” 

Draco smirked, “When isn’t she?” 

They shared a laugh and then suddenly Millie’s face changed and tore her sights away.  

“I should go,” She announced.  

Before Draco could get another word in, Millie suddenly pivoted and rushed out leaving Draco slightly confused as his brain caught up with the suddenness of it all.  

Draco took the time to pack his own things, mentally preparing himself for another “brief” Inquisitorial Squad meeting.  

He grumbled over the fact they had been tricked into it. Umbridge’s promise of only holding monthly meetings was tossed away as she grew even more paranoid and suspicious of the school. Draco had to mentally check out of her rants during the meetings because they eventually went into circles. 

This meeting was no exception. 

Draco yawned, leaning his chair back a little, glancing over at his mates all huddled in her stuffy office glowing in an eye sore of pink. There was almost a solid hour and some, where Umbridge theorized the different ways in which Dumbledore was going to over throw the ministry. 

Draco checked his watch and nearly wanted to cry out. 

It was past the usual time where Umbridge asked them if they knew of any piece of information that would help their investigation. She was still in the middle of her speculation when Goyle raised his hand, looking timidly around.  

“Yes?” Umbridge huffed, irritated that her rant was interrupted.  

Goyle glanced around nervously, “I think I have some information that would be of interest to you.” 

Something inside Draco stirred the moment Umbridge’s face twisted back into a sickly-sweet smile.  

Goyle knew.  

His named was signed.  

Before the thought of betrayal even registered in Draco’s mind, Goyal spoke up.  

“I can’t be one hundred percent sure but,” Goyle began.  

“Go on,” Umbridge said with a flame of delight in her eyes.  

“There was a couple of Hufflepuffs talking about meeting up on the second floor.” Goyle said, looking around carefully, “I can’t be certain exactly what room or why they were meeting but, yeah, that’s all.” 

Umbridge nodded, deflating her stance almost unconvinced.  

There was a sense of urgency the moment that Draco understood what Goyle was doing because it was exactly what Draco had been religiously attending these stupid meetings for.  

“A few third years, no?” Draco turned to Goyle who was slowly shrinking in his seat. They exchanged a look and Draco hoped to Merlin that Goyle would be smart enough to pick up on his subtle help. 

“No,” He shook his head, “Certainly younger. They were tiny.” 

Crabbe snorted, “They all look small compared to you, mate.” 

The group of tired students all shared a laugh.  

Umbridge cleared her throat, looking more at ease.  

“Fine,” Umbridge sighed, “We’ll send half of you to patrol there. The rest of you can figure out what floor to monitor. Those cockroaches have to be back before school curfew.” 

Umbridge glanced over at Draco and another girl from Hufflepuff.  

“I trust you two are also on Prefect patrol?” 

Draco nodded to confirm. 

“Perfect,” She sighed out, “Now go. I have other things to address.” 

With that Draco let out a long sigh when Umbridge dismissed them as Flitch walked in with his cat, anticipating his own meeting with Umbridge. It wasn’t until they all sorted themselves out on where to patrol when Draco pulled Goyle aside, looking around to see if they were within earshot.  

“You know ,” Draco said with finality, not allowing Goyle to argue. Still he kept his mouth shut another sign of his own allegiance.  

Draco couldn’t be more in awe that his best mate had seemingly had a change of heart.  

“I saw your name on the list,” Draco continued, “When I signed as well.” 

Goyle’s eyes widened at the confirmation that his own friend was in on the secret.  

“How-,” Goyle began but he shook his head, “You won’t tell anyone, will you?” 

Draco rolled his eyes, “Of course I won’t you prick, why would you believe I would?” 

Goyle shrugged.  

“How did you get involved?” Draco lowered his voice.  

“Hermione,” Goyle whispered, looking around to check if there was anyone around them to listen in. They had taken a stroll up to the third floor corridors, where Goyle had volunteered his post. Goyle continued to whisper, “She’s been teaching me spells for Defense and I think I’m pretty good at it.” 

“You’ve been to a meeting?” Draco guffawed. He wondered why wasn’t this a surprising rumor going around. 

“I- I haven’t,” Goyle admitted, “Hermione’s trying to encourage me to go but, you know, it’s hard when no one trusts you. She’s been helping me while we study for potions. Privately.” 

Draco’s brows hitched a millimeter up, surprised how jealous he felt. It even annoyed him more than Krum’s ugly face.  

Goyle’s face twisted around, “I know we haven’t been open with each other mate, but... maybe I’m a traitor but I don’t like how it feels now.” 

Draco blinked, “How what feels?” 

Goyle squeezed his eyes, “I don’t know how to explain it but this summer, it felt like the air was haunted. Like a dread, heavy on my chest. Then I come to school, and it's gone. Sort of. Anytime my parents talk about what the Dark Lord might be up to, I feel sick.” 

Draco gulped. He knew the exact feeling, perhaps even worse. 

“I know I’m not the only one,” Goyle nodded, “Crabbe as well, ‘cept, he doesn’t want to talk about it. He spends most of his free time snogging Astoria, you know.” 

Draco nearly choked on his own gasp. Her certainly did not.  

Goyle went on. 

“The more I practice Defense and the better I get, I feel better.” Goyle confessed, “I know I’m coming off as some traitor but I don’t want to turn in the people that are helping me.” 

Draco remained quiet. He wasn’t alone. There was something highly mischievous to know that change was brewing in even the most lost souls and that gave him a determined hope. That is, until, the question was flipped over to him.  

“So what about you?” Goyle cleared his throat, “How did you get roped into it?” 

Draco’s mouth hung open, gaping like a fish.  

He was grateful that Goyle had been completely honest with him but Draco had no clue were to start. Or how embarrassing it would be to admit he fancied a girl that was currently with a quidditch star.  

“Longbottom,” Draco said, finally finding his voice.  

“You think Snape has something up his sleeve pairing us all like he did in Potions?” Goyle asked. Perhaps one of the best questions Goyle had ever asked and Draco couldn’t really speculate with him.  

“I don’t know.” 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Draco was shocked at how stealth his operation was.  

It was now nearing curfew, Draco assumed that their meeting was over or with be over soon so every member would be able to get to their house safely. Goyle had been a genius on directing most of the Inquisitorial Squad to the second floor. The only house that would have trouble crossing further down would have been Slytherin. 

And Draco doubted there were any present in Dumbledore’s Army.  

Still, Draco walked leisurely around, trying to past time faster. The amount of time the Inquisitorial Squad was taking away from his precious time was staggering. Once curfew hit, he’d still need to fulfill his prefect duties.  

It was real boring work, if he was honest.  

So boring that Draco tried to see if he would be able to scope out random students in parts of the castle that they had no business in.  

For the entire hour he wasted on Umbridge’s fruitless crusade during his patrol, he did not see a single person. Perhaps, it wasn’t Umbridge that underestimated them. It was him.  

It pleasantly impressed Draco as he made his way up the seventh floor in hopes to find something of note. He’d had to congratulate Hermione on how diligent they were at covering their tracks. 

The corridors were eerily quiet, a kind of quiet that absorbed sound. 

Draco smirked.  

A silencing charm. 

 Footsteps in a silent corridor echoed like mini bombs on a peaceful day and yet, even Draco’s own feet made no noise.  

Draco reveled in the genius of it all until a face came into view that moment, and he jumped back ten feet from the thunderbolt of shock that coursed through his veins. Draco clutched his heart and tried to minimize his panting.  

He might have shouted out, he can’t be sure.  

“Millie!” Draco huffed out, “You surprised me.” 

“Didn’t you hear me calling?” Millie scrunched her nose as she smiled, “You were pretty fixated on something down the corridor. Did you see someone?” 

Draco shook his head, “No. Not really. Just had a weird feeling and then, you popped up.” 

Millie rolled her eyes, pushing back her dark towel-dried hair.  

The Prefect’s Bathroom.  

“Right,” Draco nodded, “It was probably you I heard.” 

Millie rolled her eyes, “I can say you didn’t even hear me at all if you shouted that loud.” 

Draco stuck his tongue into his cheek, “I wouldn’t say I shouted.” 

“Screamed, then.” Millie teased.  

Draco rolled his eyes, stepping down a few steps off the staircase that lead down to the sixth floor. He could feel Millie follow behind him.  

“How was your bath?” Draco lightly asked, “Must had been a treat to relax.” 

“You should try it sometime,” Millie suggested, “It will help you with the edge.” 

Draco stopped and wheeled around. Millie was two steps above him but he still found himself face to face with her. He pocketed his hands.  

“What do you mean? I am relaxed,” He scoffed. 

“Sure you are,” Millie snorted, this time finally having the courage to return the long looks Draco had been sending her when he studied her. “With the amount of classes and clubs on your plate, I’m surprise you even have time to sleep.” 

Draco couldn’t argue that, so he deterred.  

“It’s not that bad being busy.” Draco admitted.  

“I wish you were busier,” Millie licked her lips. Draco didn’t know exactly how to take that comment. “That way I wouldn’t have to wonder why I find you looking at me so much.” 

Ah. He had been caught and worse yet, he was being confronted. Draco gulped. Maybe if he asked her more about her parents, maybe even suggest what the archives were like, ask for a private tour... All the things that were swirling in his head was nowhere near the same that was going on in Millie’s. 

As he waited for the perfect way to voice his questions, Millie leaned forward and placed a hard but gentle kiss on his lips.  

That was not what Draco was expecting. Millie pulled away slightly watching him. Studying him just as his mind went blank. He hadn’t been sure what exactly he was meant to ask nor why she had kissed him but he knew there was an ache that primatively swelled in his chest.  

Brows knitted; Draco held back the brokenness within him. He finally saw the way she held his gaze, as if she saw him as everything. Amazement and wonder all rolled into her begging eyes. She waited for his response. Any response.  

He could be firm in his love for one girl that ruled over his heart. He could be faithful to his unwavering feelings but Draco was also confused and jealous. He thought of all the times he and Hermione shared a good laugh, exchanged looks, listened to music together on his bed.  

All of it felt like some distant memory because he couldn’t continue it here even if that’s all he wanted, even if she didn’t want him.  

“Draco-” Millie began and was quickly cut off. Draco pressed his lips on to hers, returning the small gesture. If he was wrong, if Hermione could love someone else, perhaps Draco could too.  

A bloom of longing spread through his chest. Millie was quick to wrap her arms around his neck and Draco place his hesitant hands on her hips. He had squeezed his eyes shut when their kiss deepen. Millie was quick to try to deepen it to a frenzy but Draco held back.  

He controlled the movement of their kiss with his chin, pulling away slightly when she got carried away, and setting a slow languid pace for their tongues to meet in a soft discovery.  

Just when Millie was beginning to understand Draco’s movements, a sound caught their attention. The pair pulled away from each other, looking around for the source of the sound. Millie’s lips were swollen and full and Draco couldn’t imagine he look that much different as he ran his tongue across his bottom lip. His eyes had initially looked up at the seventh floor from the middle of the staircase where they stood.  

There was something about the sound that reminded him of air, like a puff or a breath. Millie looked over her shoulder at the direction where Draco had his eyes fixated. 

“You’re right,” She nodded, “Seventh floor does give off a weird feeling.” 

And with that, Millie held out her hand for Draco smiling brightly at him pulling him into a direction he was entirely uncertain of.

Needless to say, it didn’t take long for them to start dating. By the end of the patrol, and another long snog, Draco had nervously asked Millie to be his.  

She said yes. 

The small speck of happiness confused Draco but he shoved that thought down when Millie disappeared from behind the large double doors with a spectacular golden bird etched into the rich cherry wood.  

It was so sudden on such an ordinary night. Draco Malfoy had found a girlfriend in Millie and the emotions that bubbled up inside him were still confusing and hard to untangle, but at least it didn’t hurt as much.  

At least it would be easier to ask about the Archives now. He would hope.