fervere

Chapter Thirty Two

Cho Chang ran after Hermione who rush into the girl’s lavatory. The streak of brown hair nearly escaped Cho’s line of vision, but she had managed to get a glimpse of the girl pushing past the doors.  

She found Hermione hunched over the white marbled sinks, the faucet running at full blast, trying to settle her breathing both from the sprint and from the panic what was bubbling to her surface.  

Cho paused for a moment, giving Hermione a moment of peace while simultaneously, creeping into the lavatory to keep her company. She peered at Hermione carefully through her reflection of the mirror, kneading her hands nervously.  

“Hermione?” Cho whispered out.  

She whipped around so fast that Cho jumped in her skin.  

“Are you okay?” Cho continued, rattled at what had transpired as well.  

Hermione shook her head with a clenched jaw. Her cheek dotted with droplets, staining her already red cheek with the irritation of icy water. It hadn’t helped the color but it did help with dousing the sting of the slap.  

Mildred Clearwater had nearly wrestled Hermione for her bracelet while screaming at her, tackling her down. When her prized possession was in her greedy hands, Mildred pulled her hand back and struck Hermione with a single slap.  

It hadn’t been a hard hit but it was still as shocking, stunning everyone in place from witnessing Mildred attacking unprovoked. It had happened so fast that nobody really had time to react accordingly, that is, until Cormac jumped in peeling the raging girl off of Hermione, still kicking and screaming. Head Girl, Gabriella Tate was equally as speechless as everyone else, her responsibility to maintained a respectable order forgotten.

When Umbridge showed up, Gabriella Tate stood there dumbfounded, slowly computing that she was the one in charge and should have had Mildred sent away.

“Oh for goodness sake,” Umbridge shrieked, "Does anyone at this school know how to act accordingly? What is this mess?!"

Mildred, red in the face, shouldered Cormac off of her. She pointed at Hermione and opened her mouth, but not a single sound came out. She attempted over and over again but no kind of reason was ever made. It would have helped her case, perhaps. The other Prefects stared at Mildred wondering what in Merlin's name had led her to jump on Hermione who finally rose back to her feet, tears welling up in her widen eyes. Hermione patiently waited for Mildred to explain but it never came and Umbridge was far too impatient to wait around.  

“Detention,” She shouted, “Ms. Clearwater.” 

The girl blanched, having never ever been reprimanded much less served a single kind of punishment in her life at Hogwarts, Mildred scoffed in disbelief.  

“But Profess-” She began.  

“For a month. Ten points from Ravenclaw,” Umbridge glared before glancing at Hermione as well, “As for you, Ms. Granger. A month as well.” 

Cho and Cormac both began their protest, bearing witness to what actually transpired but Umbridge raised her hand, signaling them to stop.  

“I am also under the strict belief that no fight is ever unprovoked, thus, twenty points from Gryffindor,” Umbridge lowered her lids at Hermione, as if she simply knew all of this was her fault, "For inciting another student."

After all it was well within her belief that this was the Hermione she suspected.  

It was after all in her pamphlet she handed out to her Inquisitorial Squad to keep vigilant on those on the list and report any kind of activity to her. 
 

Hermione Jean Granger (Year 5) 
Highly Suspicious. Possible seductress. Calculating and controlling.... 

 
Umbridge sighed at the ineffectiveness of the group she had formed, truly believing that they would have been more dedicated at championing her cause. After all, most of them had parents in the Ministry. Surely, their parents' wellbeing and good standing would have a main concern for them.  

Her grubby little eyes landed on the only male worthy of helping her at the moment. She grabbed a fist full of Cormac McLaggans robes and pulled him along.  

“You,” She sighed at her meager selection, “I need you to keep watch while I go to Hagrid’s. Any funny business you see, you will have to report it back to me. Understand?” 

Cormac sputtered and gave half answers but he was ultimately dragged away like a rag doll.  

The rest of the Prefects stood in silence. Mildred fuming even more now and the others looking at Hermione in concern. That is when Hermione took her chance to run away, perplexed at what had just happened unaware of what had made Mildred snap.  

Recounting what had just lapsed, Hermione leaned against the cool marble and shrugged at Cho.  

“What did I say,” Hermione gulped, “That was so wrong?” 

Cho shook her head in disbelief, stepping close to Hermione and cupping her hands around hers in full sincerity, “Nothing. Of course, nothing Hermione.” 

Hermione sniffed, wheeling around to examine the side of her face carefully in the mirror, “You shouldn’t have come after me. I’m sure she all the more angrier for it.” 

Cho, although still wildly perplexed at the last five minutes that had just transpired, shrugged as if was none of her concern. She then took out a small handkerchief, soaked it in water, used her wand to freeze the cloth and placed it gingerly on Hermione’s cheek.  

Cho tucked a piece of thick black hair behind her ear, “I worry for your wellbeing more than her breakdown.” 

Hermione scoffed out a small dry laugh, “She is rather unpredictable, isn’t she?” 

Cho snorted, guiding Hermione’s hand up so she could hold the frozen handkerchief in place. She took out a small empty vial from her pocket inside her robe and handed it to Hermione. She gave her a gentle smile.  

“It’s a good thing you selected the Greenhouse to patrol,” Cho nodded in confirmation. 

“Why is that?” Hermione asked, holding the vial loosely.

“Professor Sprout has various types of dittany in her personal garden,” Cho explained.  

“I can’t-” 

“Find Dittany of Crete,” Cho instructed, “It looks like a tube of purple petals. Pick off one entire flower and chew it. Spit it out into this vial and by tomorrow, it should be ready to soothe away the red. It makes a sort of salve. I read it in Witch Weekly once, it's helped Harry with Umbridge’s punishments.” 

Hermione pressed her mouth in a thin line, tucking her chin in. She didn’t know how to voice her appreciation for Cho at the moment. 

Cho let out a small laugh, “Which reminds me, I would stay clear of Mildred for a while if I were you.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “As if you had to tell me that. Why on earth would I attempt to approach her?” 

Cho shook her head, “I’m serious. I might not be close with Mildred but I know how she is. She prides herself in having a spotless reputation.” 

“Oh,” Hermione sniffed, “Like the kind of reputation she was gloating on about her personal life with Draco?” 

“Academically,” Cho corrected, “She may not look it but she is a hard worker. She’s been fighting tooth and nail to be considered one of the top students in her year, your year. You may not realize but she’s only behind from you and Draco by a couple of marks. She speaks of it often in the Common Room.” 

Hermione remained silent.  

“I don’t think she’ll take to well that her academics will take a hit if she’s in detention,” Cho pointed out, “And may I also say that I don’t ever think she’s ever landed herself a single detention ever.” 

“And now she will serve an entire month.” 

“Alongside you ,” Cho reminded, regarding the thinking girl in front of her, “You ought to be careful even if you're lucky in the sense that she has an awful swing.” 

Hermione snorted, “She’s lucky I didn’t have my wand on hand.” 

Cho gave her a serious look. 

“I’ll be wary. I will,” Hermione said, frustrated that it was not like her at all. As benign as she looked, Hermione wasn’t the type to sit still. Hermione loved a fight if it was for a good cause and her innocence was clearly something of a cause to her. 

“Go. Off to the Greenhouses,” Cho gently pushed, "And don't even think about covering whatever area Gemma should have patrolled."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

So Draco hadn’t exactly accomplished his own secret side quest. 

He yet to receive the copy and he clung on to the hope that Hermione would come around to help him figure it out.  

One could say he hadn’t really accomplished anything by dictionary standards but he was so much closer he could almost touch the splendor of victory on his end. 

Despite how extraordinary it was to physically have something of worth to hand over, there was something itching at the back of his mind.  

Hermione.  

And that itch was that something was off between them, and he couldn’t for the life of him put a finger on it. 

Anytime he came across the golden trio, Ron and Harry openly greeted him while Hermione obviously ignored him.  

The first few times, Draco thought she was doing it to get under his skin but now it really was under his skin and tearing him apart. It was like it physically pained her when any kind of attention was brought on her when Draco was around and worse, when he was the one giving her a bit of it.  

It was like he disgusted her.  

After a few days it wasn’t even hurtful anymore, it was rather strange . 

His interest in his schooling were simply superficial at the moment. Draco went through the motions in class, joked with his friends, hung out with Millie, and did his best to fall into a routine that didn’t have Hermione right at the front of his mind but it was hard when she made it obvious that she didn’t want to speak to him.  

Speaking of Millie, she wasn't as vocal about how much time they spent together recently. She hadn’t been begging for his attention everyday as before and Draco found the change as a huge relief at first.

One would think that Millie's change would have been a positive given that now Draco’s nights were free to do as he pleased, but Millie also hadn’t been herself. One thing Draco had learned was that if he was as ease around Millie, then there was definitely something off and it was just another odd piece he didn’t know how to fit into the puzzle in his mind.  

It was only the beginning of March when news of a drastic change in points was all the talk. Gryffindor had a sudden reduction of one hundred and fifty points, placing them last in the House Cup.  

Normally, Draco would have checked Slytherin’s placement in the House Cup but he was more interested in his potion he was brewing at the moment.  

A thick puff of steam hit Draco’s face, nearly knocking the sense out of him. He began to cough while Neville panicked next to him, stuffing his nose into his book. A sour sort of stench lightly tickled Draco’s nose. He scrunched it in distaste. 

Snape sighed in the opposite side of the dungeon, “Sprinkle the Lacewing flies, Longbottom, not PLOP.” 

“Sorry,” Neville gulped, stirring his own cauldron, giving Draco an apologetic look since the puff of smoke he had produced hit him square in the face.  

Draco coughed, waving his hands around to clear the air, “It’s fine. No worries.” 

Ron wheeled around smirking, “Think Snape will let us try out the polyjuice potion in class?” 

Zabini made a face, “What if it fails?” 

“That’s why it’s better to test it in the presence of a professor,” Pansy rolled her eyes, “Could you imagine brewing this out of class without supervision? What happens if you grow a leg where an arm’s supposed to be?” 

Harry and Ron snorted but also worked diligently as they hadn't before. In fact, everyone in class was trying their best to focus and get this potion right. 

OWLs, Draco thought, it must be the exams. Or might even be on the exam and Draco hadn't been paying close attention due to the brown-eyed beauty who refused to acknowledge him.

Hermione and Goyle worked quietly around each other, carefully checking each step of their potions. Hermione would quietly offer advice to Goyle who digested every bit of Hermione’s words to put to good use. 

“’Mione,” Ron called out, “You want to stop by Daphne’s room tonight?” 

Daphne who had been in the back of the class perked up at the sound of her name, “Huh? What about me?” 

“She said she has a ton of dresses you can borrow for her Sixteen Reception.” Ron explained, “I convinced mum to buy herself a nice gown for the party.” 

The girl froze, her hand midair about to pour into her cauldron, “No, I cannot.” 

“Why,” Ron persisted.  

“I have detention.” Hermione muttered.  

“Still?” 

Hermione’s face hardened, pouring her lacewing flies into her potion, “I’ve only served a week, Ronald. I still have the rest of March to serve.” 

That was news to Draco. He hadn’t realized that Hermione had landed herself in detention completely independent of the main culprits of that morning's scandalized gossip.  

Draco turned to Neville, glanced at Harry, and then thought of Ginny who all seemed to be in high spirits at breakfast.  

Draco let out a long sigh glaring into his cauldron. His own potion was looking rather textbook with minimal effort, which happened to be a miracle considering that he was not in the right head space.

There were a few things he found out that very morning that bothered him. 

The first was that the DA had held a meeting without him.  

The second was that the DA was somehow leaked to Umbridge, Harry was banned from the Quidditch final, and now a rather unfortunate girl was walking around shamefully with boils spelling the word ‘sneak’ on her rather large forehead.  

It seems from the rather tall tale, that many from the DA were able to escape except for Harry, Neville, and Ginny (who landed themselves in detention for the rest of the year). The rest of the DA had been quickly escorted out of the Room of Requirements at a different exit by Hermione and Ron.  

Considering that none of Umbridge’s decrees was directly being violated upon the discovery, it was hard to expel them for conspiracy. Umbridge had no real grounds to punish them for anything except for one tiny thing.  

Harry had been wearing a pin, inscribed with the words Dumbledore’s Army , during the Umbridge’s unearthing launching an investigation towards the very beloved yet absent Headmaster. Before the ministry was able to get to Dumbledore last night, story has it that he had simply apparated away into hiding.  

Draco couldn’t have been more grateful to learn that the list Hermione was so keen on everyone signing, with invisible ink no less, had a binding curse on it. It would have hexed anyone that spoke explicitly about the DA, especially to Umbridge.  

Marietta Edgecomb was her name and was spending her morning crying up in the Hospital Wing.  

Despite the rather serious breach, Draco was surprised that everyone looked at ease. Harry was still cracking jokes, despite being banned from quidditch now. None of the Slytherin’s in the DA were shaking in their boots being nearly discovered. 

It was all rather unclear until Neville brought it up, as if the confusion was written all over Draco’s face in clear English.  

“A ministry auror, Kinglsey Shacklebolt, interrogated Marietta,” Neville whispered over stirring his potion, “Harry reckons that he warped her memory. She couldn’t recall exactly when or why the DA was formed or who was in it. Made Umbridge into a raging lunatic since she couldn’t exactly punish us for gathering. Her rule was for four or more. But she did see Harry’s pin and well...” 

Draco remained silent, glancing over at Hermione who was helping Goyle clean out his bottles to store the polyjuice.  

“Still, she wasn’t quite convinced. Ginny insisted they were helping me with some charms,” Neville sighed, “All three of us got detention until the year finishes.” 

Draco licked his lips, “How did everyone else get away?” 

“Disillusionment charm,” Neville grinned, “Easy spell to master but it took ages for everyone to slowly sneak away.” 

Draco’s raised his brows, it was a charm that was as close to invisibility, with its flaws of course. It allowed those who casted the spell to camouflage with its surroundings at first glance. If anyone looked close enough, then yes, anyone under the charm could have been pointed out.

“Umbridge didn’t notice she was surrounded by nearly forty students. She was too busy yelling at us. Ginny has a knack on egging people on.” Neville smirked, proudly. 

Ron sighed out, “Can you believe that I got a letter from mum reprimanding me for not keeping a closer eye on Ginny?” 

Draco grinned softly; he would have been thrilled to hear about the accounts of what had occurred until once small detail ruined his mood.  

Draco sniffed, his nose irritated from the acidic smoke wafting into the air.  

“Why wasn’t I told about the meeting?” Draco asked. Ron’s face fell and his eyes glanced over to across the room. 

Harry was suddenly very interested in inspecting that his potion bottle was near spotless, rubbing a rag until the glass squeaked clean.  

Ron when a bright shade of red, “I- I thought you were and didn’t make it.” 

Neville jumped right in, “I mean we weren’t learning anything new really, just teaching the younger ones...” 

“Actually,” Ron butted in again, “If you think about it, I’d say it was luck that you weren’t there. Imagine if you were to be caught up in that mess.”  

It was Zabini’s turn to jump in.  

“Yeah mate,” He cleared his throat, “We were lucky we were excluded.” 

“We?” Draco questioned, “You didn’t go?” 

Zabini glanced at Goyle and Crabbe, pinching his nose as if it would help him gather his thoughts, “None of the Slytherins went. Were you not aware?” 

Before Draco could go deep into questioning why that was, Snape loomed over the four boys who were just about perfecting their potions.  

“Gossip time is over boys,” He announced, “Can you please make your way over to the wash stations and grab your bottles? I’m afraid if I don’t push you, you’d still be yapping away at your dismissal time.” 

Everyone began to scramble, weary from being caught by a professor while a lingering question floated over them as to why Snape had never considered ratting any of them out.  

Nevertheless, Draco had other questions that weighed heavier on his mind. 

Once class was dismissed, Draco battled the flow of students rushing out of their dismissal. He tried his best not to push into people as much as he tried to avoid it but, ended up shouldering a few, causing him to mutter out apologies while his eyes were trained on the back of that wonderfully beautiful intelligent head of Hermione.  

“’Mione,” He called out, “Her mione .” 

Her shoulders tensed but she kept walking.  

“Oy, Granger! ” Draco shouted, causing a few heads to turn but ultimately was enough to have her freeze and whip around. Draco smiled in relief, jogging up to her.  

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re avoiding me,” He half joked. Draco hated that he knew that she was but couldn’t help but to cover up the truth with a light joke.  

Hermione stared on, her mouth gaping, making him feel like it wasn’t a joke at all. Draco frowned only another truth away from pitying himself.  

“You had a meeting last night.” He said, not as a question but as a confirmation. 

Hermione huffed, “Yes.” 

“Why...” Draco paused, “Why wasn’t I made aware?” 

Hermione finally came to her sense and pushed her shoulders back, almost defensively. 

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head, “I didn’t realize you had to be at every meeting.” 

That stung Draco’s ego, his usual lightheartedness retreating. His mouth gaped, trying to say something light hearted once more but couldn’t and ended up looking like a stunned fish. 

Ginny soon joined in, chipper as ever. It was the perfect moment for Hermione to slip away excusing herself, confusing both Ginny and Draco.  

Ginny, surprised by Hermione’s quick getaway, crossed her arms, “What did you say to her?” 

Draco shrugged, pocketing his hands, “Nothing! I only was asking why I didn’t know about the meeting.” 

An obvious lightbulb went off in Ginny’s head and she smirked.  

“Oh like you haven’t figured it out yet,” She snorted.  

“Figured what out?” Draco scowled, feeling quiet in a rotten mood from the vagueness of it all.  

Ginny gave him a playful long look but then realized how utterly lost Draco was and the sincerity in his ignorance.  

Ginny rolled her eyes up and crossed her arms, “Hermione decided on that.” 

Another sting.  

“Okay,” Draco calmly accepted, “But why?” 

Ginny furrowed her brows, “Is it really that hard to understand?” 

“Yes, it is for me.” Draco admitted, “I don’t want to over analyze but I’m starting to think that I’ve must have done something wrong. I can’t quite explain.” 

Ginny slowly nodded as she listened. Draco felt pathetic asking but he had to.  

“She been ignoring me, hasn’t she?” Draco asked, plainly.  

Ginny’s freckled face hardened, concealing a truth that was now obvious to Draco.  

“Why?” He shook his head, “I haven’t done or said anything, have I?” 

Ginny shrugged in a way that made Draco think something was certainly not fine.  

“Hermione had a hunch about the violation of confidentiality,” Ginny admitted, “Thankfully, we gathered to practice the disillusionment charm that very day. She thought it would be best that if Umbridge did come sniffing around, none of the Slytherins would be implicated. Didn’t Goyle tell you? He was told by Cho that Umbridge thought the Inquisitorial Squad was useless. They had an emergency meeting yesterday to see if Umbridge knew that we were gathering that day and sure enough.” 

Draco blinked stupidly, emergency meeting? What? Draco hadn't heard of any kind of meeting but he was also snogging Millie senseless last night right before her patrol. 

"Lucky they showed," Ginny muttered, "I think it helped calm Umbridge down from suspecting your lot from having anything to do with the DA."

This was starting to snowball into something rather ridiculous. How much had transpired last night while he was unaware?

Ginny continued, “Hermione has her suspicions on who might be involved.” 

“Well, isn’t it Marietta?” Draco furrowed his brows, “The poor thing has been hiding in the Hospital Wing since breakfast this morning.” 

Ginny shook her head, “No, well yes , but we don’t think she’s the actual the source of it.” 

“I don’t follow,” Draco urged, “Who else would it be?” 

There wasn’t enough room in Draco’s head to process the suddenness of all that was happening around him, but nothing could prepare him for what Ginny was about to say.  

“Well,” Ginny chewed on her lip and gave him a pitying look, “Well she thought it was you.” 

His heart stopped for a second that stretched into an eternity. There was a certain kind of affliction that came with someone he loved, doubting his loyalty. It was absolutely gob smacking.  

The stun that debilitated Draco’s thinking began to fade.  

He didn’t know what warranted to be the suspected as the person responsible of this breech but he wouldn’t.  

He couldn’t. 

It was far beyond his faults and flaws that he'd ever put his Slytherin friends in danger. It was unimaginable to put anyone else on the chopping block. Draco thought it was obvious he his genuine intentions was to help in any way that he could. 

The illness that began to concentrate in his core surprised him. Even thinking that it was ultimately Hermione who was the one that thought it was him, brought a wave of sickness over his pale skin. Her lack of faith in him didn’t just hurt, it nearly destroyed him. Was that the reason why she had been different around him? 

If she truly thought he had some say in the snitching of the DA, then it would make sense why she was avoiding him. He’d never betray them and, besides, her awkwardness proceeded the discovery of the DA. That couldn’t be it, unless, she was already suspecting something before it actually happened 

Ginny gave Draco a sympathetic look, “I know it wasn’t you. We all do.” 

Draco frowned, “What does it matter if-” 

A tight knot formed at the very top of Draco’s throat, tugging his heart strings along with it. He just didn’t understand. Was there something he was missing? 

“If,” He began again, his voice strained, “If she thinks that of me?” 

“Thought of,” Ginny corrected, “And it was only a suspicion, a throw away comment she felt rotten to have voiced. I mean it’s telling. You clearly don’t have any boils on your forehead. I’m sure Hermione felt guilty for even having the seed of doubt that you were somehow involved.” 

When put as plainly as Ginny did, made Draco's mood turn sour. Even Ginny began to notice, her face melting into concern. Her hand reached, placing a hand on his shoulder for comfort.  

“We know Edgecomb was the one who has been caught snitching thanks to Hermione’s list but,” Ginny hesitated, “Like I said, Hermione caught wind of some kind of slip and now believes someone knew, someone not on the list.” 

Draco narrowed his eyes, “How? From who?” 

There was a wash of realization that came over Ginny’s muted soft eyes. There was a minute scrunch of her features, as if she didn’t understand why Draco was so left in the dark, so blinded. The redhead finally straightened up, aware of the students walking around them and took her hand off Draco.  

“Hermione made the executive decision to exclude Slytherins yesterday,” Ginny whispered, “We had to allowed the Inquisitorial Squad to run as normal. The risk of more people being implicated if you were there- I think it was for the best, Draco.” 

Draco gulped, “How? How is it for the best when I was somehow thought to be involved?” 

“You aren’t!” Ginny insisted, “I mean clearly you aren’t. I’m just surprised how much you don’t know.” 

Draco scoffed, “Oh like what? Enlighten me, Weasel.” 

Ginny paused giving time for her to process exactly what to reveal to Draco. 

“Cho thinks someone coerced Marietta into confessing, someone who also has parents in the Ministry.” Ginny shrugged, watching Draco blink himself into a whirlwind of thoughts.  

Draco gulped, “And exactly who, if Marietta is the only person marked? A person not on the list? How would they know of anything?” 

Ginny was now fully regretting her choice of opening her mouth. She wrestled with giving Draco more information when their hushed conversation was interrupted. 

They were joined by none other than Millie, who snaked her arm around Draco’s back and leaned her head on his shoulders, batting her lashes at Ginny in a very sickly sweet way. 

Her perfectly manicured brow twitched up at Ginny.  

“Isn’t this a charming surprise,” Millie sighed out, “Weasley?” 

Ginny hardened at the sudden appearance of Mildred Clearwater. The obvious distaste for Draco’s girlfriend was now all over her face, scowling.

“Dreadful,” Ginny glared, “Don’t you have another place to stick your unwanted nose in?” 

Millie’s fake smile dropped.  

“The nerve of you,” Millie hissed, taking a menacing step towards Ginny. Draco felt sick but stopped Millie from advancing. His arm secured around her waist. There was something in the heaviness of this discovery that was weighing on his heart.  

Had he not proved himself worthy enough to circumvent any kind of doubt? 

Especially with Hermione? 

Draco gave Ginny one last daunting look before he dragged Millie away, unsure on how to tackle this revelation. He thought he had enough on his plate but it felt like the universe considered it not enough.

Oh the trials of being a teenager. 

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose hearing Millie go off on how much she hated Ginny the most out of the Weasley’s. She struggled against Draco’s grip but was she honestly never a threat to go looking for a fight with Ginny.  

“Do you know she’s in deep trouble with Umbridge?” Millie scoffed, “Potter and your potions parter Longbottom, too! You’d do better if you’re careful on who you speak to Draco. Seriously. Especially with how paranoid she is right now, you can’t believe how happy she is that she found them rallying.” 

Draco’s jaw went firm.  

“They don’t rally,” He hissed.  

Millie went on as if she hadn’t heard him.  

“You know that the next step is Umbridge wanting to weed out more people,” Millie stuck her chin up, “She’s convinced there’s a lot more and frankly, I think so too after hearing everything about it. She going to implement more decrees. That's what those three did. Punish all of us for their inability to comply. I'm not saying Umbrdige is great, but she also isn't unreasonable if they just listen and follow her rules.” 

There was something stirring in the pit of Draco’s belly almost glad he never introduced Millie into the DA but also the burn of the unanswerable question that he couldn’t quite have now. 

Would she have been loyal to him if she discovered he was part of it too?  

Millie stopped in her tracks, dropping her rant to face him, snaking her hands up his chest to wrap around his neck. She cocked her head coyly to the side before she planted a long aching kiss on his lips. It was certainly not expected, especially because Millie was well aware of Draco’s boundaries, but she sure did take advantage of catching Draco unawares.  

She made sure she made something of a spectacle of his kiss, pressing her body up against his, lifting her knee up to cradle Draco’s body closer to his. Draco hadn’t quite known what he had done with his hands when Millie pulled away smiling, fulfilled with whatever she intended to do, and skipped away.  

“See you tonight?” She waved before Draco could respond, stunned that Millie had the gall to cross that line with him. He wasn’t enraged, just stunned.  

Even when he finally gathered enough sense to respond the way he should have, Millie was a few paces away. Draco lifted his hand for no reason but to try and stop her but paused in midair. He felt stupid standing there, stranded by the library, witnessing Millie swinging her hips as she scaled up the stairs in a rather short skirt Draco realized must have been hiked up.  

He gulped and snapped out of his trance, looking to his left only to discover Hermione was standing there clutching her books tightly to her chest.  

That same pained expression etched deeply into her face before she spun on her heel and scampered off.  

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Draco couldn’t help it. 

The thought of such a speculation of him turning his back on the DA, even if Ginny assured it wasn't as serious as he was making it, still hurt him because of how highly he regarded Hermione’s opinions.  

Especially opinions of him.

He wanted to be a person they trusted, yes, but he needed Hermione to be the one who defended him, not suspect him. 

The rest of the week he kept an eye out for pockets of time he could talk to her, and damned whoever saw them.  

He didn’t care. Draco wanted to know the reason why she even had a second of doubt, like Ginny insisted, and he needed to hear directly from her. 

Draco searched for another opportunity high and low to talk to Hermione even went as far as making sure he was on the same patrol days with her. Draco suspected she had that map to make sure she avoided him at all cost. They never crossed paths. He wanted to know why Hermione had doubted him even in the slightest and he wanted to hear directly from her. 

After a week of attempts, he was fruitless in his endeavors to corner her.

Daphne had placed her flowery invitation right on the book he had cracked open in front of him. He had been glaring a hole in its pages when the gesture distracted him.  

He glanced up to see Daphne cock her head to get a better look at him.   

“Haven’t been sleeping I see?” She furrowed her brows.  

“Got lots on my mind that I haven’t been able to sift through.” Draco muttered.  

It was somewhat true. In fact, he had been spending most of his nights going through his memories, carefully scrutinizing each interaction with the DA and with Hermione just to see if he had missed anything. There was a lot of memories he needed to now store away using his occlumency, but the obsession trying to figure out the why (even when it technically didn’t matter anymore) ate away at him.  

The rest of the DA seemed to still trust him.

Daphne gave him a pitying look.  

“Still thinking about it?” Daphne asked.  

Draco frowned, the text in his eyes sight blurring out the words that had been long unimportant to him. 

“No,” He lied. He didn’t dare look Daphne square in the face. Not when she knew nearly everything about him. Daphne had caught wind of the tiny missed details that cause both Hermione’s doubt and Draco’s dismay. The worse part of it was that it seemed like nobody wanted to tell him. They all danced around it like it was no bog deal and that Draco should just let it go because he obviously didn't rat them out.   

To Draco, it had been more than that.

The fact that he was mentioned by someone he truly cared for, it was like a rumble in his foundational love for Hermione. Like after all he had done it still hadn’t been good enough to uphold himself in good standing in her eyes.  

If he held any kind of imperfection, it would be scrutinized closely.  

Daphne softened, taking the seat next to Draco in the common room desks. She gave him a disgustingly pitiful look and Draco nearly snapped.  

“I’m fine!” He asserted, “I honestly don’t care if she thought me a traitor even for a fucking second.” 

And there it was.  

He let it slip what was already apparent to Daphne. She didn’t light up in happiness to finally have it confirmed that he had been upset, she instead was even more concerned.  

“Draco, you know she feels awful,” Daphne whispered, “She’s still trusts you. She even said she trusts you more than Harry or Ron.” 

That didn’t make him feel any better.  

“She said you were her closest friend. We all have lapses in judgements.” Daphne smiled warmly, like a mother trying to warm up a grumpy child, “Perhaps you have, too? An oversight?” 

“Oversight?” Draco said slowly, almost in disbelief. And if Draco was truly her closest friend, why was Hermione avoiding him like the plague?  

If anyone was fully able to assess a situation as unbias as it was, it was Draco. He had a memory that was now proven solid. His sleepless nights recalling all his time in Hogwarts and it yielded no reason to not trust him, even for a Milliesecond.  

Draco paused. Almost as if he had the answer right there, its invisible string bobbing around his head within reach but unable to see it.  

Draco exhaled.  

“I just want to talk to her,” Draco pouted, “I haven’t really spent time with her since Val...” 

There was a warm memory that softened him immediately to his core and the rush of embarrassment that burn at Draco’s cheeks was Daphne witnessed the amount of mood changes in Draco in such a short amount of time.  

Daphne’s lips cracked into a small smile.  

“Valentine’s?” Daphne smirked.  

Draco gulped, “It’s nothing.” 

“Oh, I know it’s not nothing . We heard all about it,” Daphne snorted.  

“Wha- wait. What ?” Draco narrowed his lids, “What do you mean you heard? Who told you?” 

Daphne rolled her eyes, “Oh, Draco you seriously can’t be that stupid or blind.” 

"Stupid and blind? You must be talking about Draco, right?"

Ginny plopped herself down on the table in front of Draco, grabbing the book out of his hands. It was a rather odd sight to see Ginny in the Slytherin Common Room but seeing how Ginny was at Daphne’s side made Draco think they were plotting something. 

Ginny smirked ignoring Draco's burning glare, “So about this invitation, Daph. You sure that it’s good idea inviting all of us when there’ll be all those Deatheaters?” 

Ginny picked up Draco's invitation, lightly regarded it and used it to fan herself. Daphne easily swayed by a question snorted, steering the conversation that Draco was now drowning in thought.

“You know that my mum and dad are deep within the workings of the Ministry,” Daphne propped her arm on the backrest of their chairs, “They won’t be able to get away with not inviting the heads of each department, including those we suspect are working with him...” 

“You sure you have something I can wear?” Ginny pouted, “I hardly want to wear my Yule Ball Dress again.” 

Daphne glanced at Draco to make a point, “I actually still have a few dresses my own date bought for me so I could choose.” 

Ginny understood the hint and crossed her arms, huffing in annoyance, “Oh, of course he did.” 

Draco recalled when he had no date for the Yule Ball and last minute asked Daphne, how he impulsively bought a rack of dresses for her to choose. He never thought of asking her to return them. In fact, he almost forgot about the purchase. Surely it was something his mother would have been complaining about but because it was something for a pureblood girl, Narcissa possibly overlooked it, happy that Draco seemed to be pursuing someone that wasn't Hermione.

She liked Daphne and she certainly liked Millie's parents...

Millie...

All while the girls were having their girl talk, Draco suddenly stood up to gather his books in a rush. He startled the two girls, as he excused himself, some his books half stuffed in his bookbag and the others tucked under his arm, parchment sticking out from its pages.  

It was nearly seven at night and as stupid as it was, Millie was fixing to swing by. All this mounting frustration over Hermione only caused Draco to feed into releasing his stress in the only way a stupid teenaged boy could.  

Unfortunately, they didn’t have quidditch practice that day so Millie was more than happy to receive an invitation to hang out at his dorm. There were times when Draco’s mind went into overdrive trying to figure things out that he just needed something physically demanding to soften him. 

He had spent far too long sitting there ruminating on the same key characters that Ginny had mentioned to him; Goyle, Cho, and Hermione. He was tired of thinking so much.  

Nevertheless, Draco needed to tidy up his room as much as possibly before Millie stopped by.  

Draco flew up the steps to the private rooms of the fifth-year boys. 

Draco threw the doors open to his own room pulling at his school necktie, a list of things he wanted to do like change his bed sheets played in his mind. He flung his book bag in midair when he saw the peculiar sight of a scroll letter and the brown leathered envelope on his bed. 

Draco had crossed his room before his bag crashed onto the floor to greedily snatch up the unsuspecting delivery made.  

The scroll hardly at all a letter. His fingers found the tie and slid it off, unraveling the note that was addressed to him. The scribble within the scroll took up a fraction of the size of the parchment and it read: 

Dearest Master Malfoy,  

I have copied, with the greatest detail I could, the map you have requested. You have expressed your greatest urgency in retrieving a copy, so I came as fast as I finished. You were not in. I hope this has caused no trouble for you. 
I hope you are well. 

Sephina
 

Draco dropped the scroll, snapping back into its comfortable coil and clutched the leather pouch with eager fingers. There was a string on the flap that wounded around a small sturdy knob a few inches down on the belly of the envelop. Draco unwounded the string, flicked the flap open and slipped out his greatest accomplishment yet. 

Draco had finally reached a conclusion to his quest. 

The map.  

His eyes feasted upon the lines and scrawling, detailing each area. It was brilliant and much to be studied.  

Sadly, Draco time had been cut short. 

The voice of a prowling female called out behind him. Draco immediately slipped the map back in the envelop, along with the scroll which he stuffed in a hurry. He moved slowly but deliberately while his back was still at the door. He heard it click shut just as he stored the envelope away in his desk, charming it locked.  

Draco turned.  

Millie smirked at him, shouldering off her robe, baring a scandalous amount of skin to him. In fact, there wasn’t much under her robe other than lots of tiny bits of green silk and Draco, being rather stupid, came to the conclusion that he rather did like silk.