fervere

Chapter Thirty Six

The rest of the party was a blur. Draco wished he could recall the rest of the evening but he couldn’t see past trying to look for Millie once more and in the heat of his nerves, he drank a bit too much. He was thankfully not sloppy but the drinks, he assumed, gave him a splitting headache. At least that's what he assumed from what he cold remember. Draco was sure, however, that it was Ginny who was the one who pointed out how unwell he looked and suggested he should go to his room.  

He had just bid farewell to his parents when the rest of his memory went fuzzy.

Lucius and Narcissa had enough of socializing with new people for the night. They weren't ones to ever step out of their social circles even in work circumstances, so in a social event like Daphne's they really had their work cut out for them to not completely alienate themselves. It was quite a task for them once known faces began to drift into their awareness. It was Narcissa who first noticed Krum and then Hermione, who reappeared much later. She certainly made it known to his father who went on to comment on the audacity of someone like her attending. Draco was immediately defensive, yes, but his eyes were drinking in that beautiful girl while his head was wondering over Millie. 

It was a rather confusing twist of events that certainly threw Draco in for a loop.  

It should have really made him question what was going on with him but after a rather deep sleep and the splitting headache that woke him up, Draco was rather bummed he missed the best part of the party.  

After the presentation of gifts, parents usually left and let their sons and daughters socialize in peace and he had missed it. Once left unattended, parties usually turned rather wild with dozens of teenagers sipping on a stream of unlimited drinks. 

Torn between the sight of Hermione and Krum together and wanting to forget and explore more with Millie, Ginny seemed to appear out of nowhere and chat with him, handing him another drink as he barely just begun to entertain the thought of finding Millie and enjoying his night with her in private but that was before he succumbed to the debilitating pain.  

He laid down, in hopes that in a few minutes he’d feel better, only to wake up well into the late morning, groggy and upset. Draco let out a sigh as he sat up in his bed, still laying over the covers squinting at the rather bright day.  

The pain begged him to take another minute or hour to rest but, nevertheless, Draco had a lot on his plate. He got up with an aching stretch and changed out of his wrinkled dress robe and into a casual set before taking a peek outside of the hall. All of the rows of doors down the guest wing were wide open, with the staff coming in and out from changing bed sheets and pulling out packed belongings to take down to the lobby.  

Draco blinked stupidly and was shocked when Butler Thomas, who was calling out orders, turned to him and let out a long hum.  

“Ah, Monsieur Malfoy,” He gave a tight smile, “Slept well, I presume?” 

Draco nodded slowly, “What time is it?” 

“Ten in the morning,” Butler Thomas informed, “Would you like me to get started in you room while you join the others for breakfast?” 

“They’re still having breakfast?” Draco asked incredulously, as if he couldn’t imagine a breakfast running so late.  

Butler Thomas nodded slowly, “Yes, well, late breakfast is not so out of the ordinary after a late night...” 

Right, Draco thought, right.  

He might have woken up last, but he didn’t oversleep like he feared. In fact, as Draco padded along down to the dining room, even from a distance, he could tell that everyone was still in their pajamas. He could hear their chatter, either talking very loud or arguing.  

Draco was stunned.  

What could they even be arguing about? 

“I just knew it was her!” Ginny shouted, pointing her fork around the table as if to say 'I told you so!'. 

“Okay, so we know the truth,” Harry’s voice tried to calm the arguing, “But it’s not like we can go after her. What did we really solve? That we have even more reason to hate-” 

“She was going to rat Marietta out to her mom about her involvement,” Ron began slowly, a air of levelheaded that was unheard of coming from the laid back Weasley.

Cho cut in, “It cleared Marietta’s name. We know she coerced her.” 

Hermione’s small voice rang out just as Draco peeked in what almost looked like the painting of the Last Supper.  

“Marietta was very wary of me,” Hermione began, “She was trying to convince me that she came out of obligation-” 

Hermione trailed off, her eyes widening at the sight of Draco. The rest of the table went quiet and he had the feeling- no , he just knew that he walked into something that he shouldn’t have heard. Draco closed his eyes tenderly and convinced himself not to take it too personally. He was, after all, privy to the existence of something going on. It was his fault he hadn’t been active in the DA recently like Daphne had begged him to be.

He took a seat next to Pansy, the only available seat and a steaming plate of hot food was quickly placed in front of him. The salty smell of cooked eggs, sausage rolls, and toast filled his nose and made his stomach ache in hunger.   

“I’m guessing I wasn’t supposed to hear any of that,” Draco said, hoping to get over this awkward silence.  

It was Daphne who answered him.  

“Well, it’s not really a secret.” 

“Withholding information is still sort of under the umbrella of secrets, don’t you think?” Draco calmly said, biting into his toast. 

Daphne huffed, “If you’d come around to the DA meetings like I've been aski-” 

“I know,” Draco shrugged, “I’m not at all upset if that’s what you think I am. I simply wanted to lightened the mood. Is there any tea?” 

Daphne narrowed her eyes at him. She flourished her wand, newly customized at the handle with carvings filled with mother of pearl. A tea pot lifted and poured Draco a cup of breakfast tea as he reached over to a plate in the center of the table filled with baked goods. 

The corner of Draco’s mouth twitched up, “I don’t suppose you can pass me the butter as well.” 

Daphne cursed under her breath while Draco hid his shit stirring grin behind the cup of tea he sipped on. 

“We did plan a lot the past two meetings in your absence,” Harry interjected, “And I think we all did a beautiful job keeping an eye out on Daphne’s family. Thanks to Crabbe and Goyle, we were able to get sufficient verbal evidence that the deatheaters were, indeed, targeting her parents next.” 

Draco nearly dropped his cup.  

What? 

Ginny nodded in agreement, “It was the right move to have inducted the Greengrasses in the Order this pass Christmas. Mum and Dad swore they only came to support Ron but, truthfully, I think they were on orders to keep a close eye on Daph’s parents.” 

“What?” Draco finally choked out, turning the faces of about fifteen others towards him. He cleared his throat and looked expectantly at everyone, almost upset that there was more to this that remained outside of his knowledge. 

Why hadn’t he known that Daphne’s parents were now a part of the Order? 

Astoria, Daphne’s sister, crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.  

“Really, Daph. It couldn’t have been that hard to tell Draco.” Astoria sighed. Daphne's sister looked particularly annoyed and uninterested to be included in the Order, but knew better than to go against her family. 

“Tell me what?” Draco hissed out.  

Ginny who had been sitting on the other side of him, roughly patted his shoulder.  

“No need for the dramatics,” Ginny sighed, “Daphne had an inkling that her parents would be targeted if what you said was true, about the infiltration of the Department of Mysteries.” 

“Why would they even be considered-” 

Astoria rolled her eyes up in thought, “First it was Bode and Croaker, wasn’t it? Once they pushed Bode into St. Mungo’s, Croaker went into hiding. There’s only a few left in the Department willing to work which is why my parents had relocated here, in France.” 

Draco stupidly gaped, this mind working to connect all the pieces together and still finding it all too incredible.  

“Bode and Croaker? ” He repeated, recalling the Unspeakables that first tipped Draco off to his father’s sinister plans, “What about them? Why... What does this have to do with Daph’s...” 

Daphne gave Draco the longest look, almost as if she regretted not telling him more, but also how he hadn’t been able to piece it together by now. The reason why her parents could easily move around, their interest in traveling to different countries. 

Daphne winced, “My parents are also Unspeakables.” 

Brilliant, Draco thought before he suddenly was shocked into utter silence. He sat there staring, his breathing deep and slow. 

Draco was dumbfounded at how something he had once been invested in was literally hiding under his nose. All those hours he had spent trying to find- when he could have just asked Daphne if she knew... and she would have been his best bet on learning more about them. 

Better yet, why hadn’t she told him directly? 

“They usually don’t work at the Ministry’s offices. They mainly travel and build alliances between other Unspeakables in different countries in exchange of artifacts or new discoveries,” Astoria filled in, “But Unspeakables, nonetheless.” 

“And after dad’s attack, especially after what happened to Bode,” Ginny added, “It was only a matter of time before they targeted them. It was the right move.” 

Draco twisted his face around “Wait. What happened to Bode?” 

There was a long exchange of looks between all of them. 

Ron chewed on his bottom lip, “Alive but lucky to be. He’s recovering in St. Mungo’s. He was found in the Hall of Prophecies after missing for a few hours. Bode was really beat up. He claimed he had been cursed and forced to retrieve a prophecy but he resisted the Imperius curse.” 

“How is that even possible?” Draco asked his face screwed up. 

“Unspeakables are trained to give up their life before anyone can come close to stealing anything from the department that isn’t rightfully theirs. But it’s most likely because if someone picks up a prophecy that doesn’t belong to them, they die.” Daphne finished. 

Draco sat in silence gathering bits of information, the fear slowly trickling in, his food and textbook now forgotten. 

Draco narrowed his eyes at Ron specifically, “Didn’t you say that there are protective measures to stop people from knowing the layout and contents of the Department of Mysteries?” 

Ron and Harry nodded innocently.   

“So,” Draco slowly began, “How did anyone break in once more and know exactly what to get?” 

The long table was now plunged into a silence of terrified thoughts. Draco spoke up again. 

“You said no person would be able to pass the barriers placed upon the Department and be able to recall, much less to attempt once more.” 

Harry’s green eyes lit up, “Of course.” 

“What?” Ginny asked, leaning in, along with the rest of the group. 

“The night your dad was attacked,” Harry locked eyes with Draco, “It wasn’t a person .” 

Ron's face collapsed once the realization hit him. 

“It was a snake.” Harry gulped. 

If the protective spells were meant for humans, then surely a snake wouldn’t be affected by its power, thus retaining the knowledge of the inner workings of the Department. Voldemort may not have a map but he did have knowledge of the layout because of that snake.  

Draco’s heart sank knowing of that little detail of Voldemort, one he thought would be cool to have when he was younger. The fact that it was a gift that benefitted Voldemort and cover ground that Draco was certain they had gained over him. 

Parseltongue.  

The snake passed on valuable information and Voldemort knew. It had to be only a matter of time now.

Draco felt physically ill, pushing his breakfast plate away from him. It was now, even more important than ever to get that stupid map to work to have a better sight on what was going on down there.  

“But-” Ginny’s voice wavered, “If it’s required that a Prophecy needs to be picked up by the one that it’s about, then, Voldemort can send who ever he likes, even blow up the entire department and still not get what he wants.” 

“That’s assuming that the Prophecy isn’t about him at all,” Hermione gulped, “If it’s about Harry, then logically it would be about him too, or why else would he be seeing value in seeking it?” 

Draco turned to the twins who were all stunned into silence at the developing case in their hands.  

“Have you figured out how to charm the maps?” Draco asked.  

George slowly shook his head, “No.” 

“The only thing we’ve been able to manage is to make the ink appear on command,” Fred added, “And only for a minute, for security. Whoever made the Mauarder's Map clearly had a grip on either tricky spells or knew of magic no longer used today.” 

Draco took up the folded napkin and wiped his mouth from the crumbs of his toast and with a sense of authority, he stood up no longer hungry.  

“I’ll head back to Hogwarts first, see what I can find in the library,” Draco announced, “I’ll see what I can squeeze out of McGonagall or Flitwick. Surely the spells can’t be that difficult.” 

Hermione opened her mouth standing up, but she froze when he turned to her, almost as if he was waiting for her to speak. Her face went red when she realized that she was going to vocalize that she’d go with him to help. His hard stare struck a chord in front of her friends. In front of Harry and Ginny who witnessed them just last night.

They’d certainly would think Hermione would offer to go with him because she wanted time with him alone and no, she didn’t. 

Well, she did. But she really couldn’t. She shouldn’t . 

“Yes?” Draco asked, looking at the only person that had stood up at his announcement of leave. Hermione gulped, ignoring (but just barely) the looks their friends were volleying between the pair. Hermione's voice was caught in her throat, locking eyes with Draco. It was terrifying to look directly at him and experience the confounding feeling of sinking into a world with no solid ground. She cursed herself. Her inability to speak to him had gotten worse.

Draco excused himself after Hermione remained silent. Her cheeks burning bright red.  

He stormed out, his footsteps echoing loudly throughout the halls and into the lobby as he marched on. 

He wanted to get back to Hogwarts as soon as possible and add even more work to his load. It was his determination that cancelled out his complaints of more work. It was starting to feel like something was looming over them and if they didn’t enact now, Draco wasn’t sure if it would be too late. 

Maybe it already was... 

It was Hermione’s late reaction once Draco had left that added to the dramatics of the morning. The entire table settled into a contemplating silence when Hermione abruptly stood up once more, bumping into the table and making plates and cups rattle around. 

Ginny and Harry exchanged looks as if they knew something was afoot when Hermione raced out of the dining room after Draco who had left only a minute ago.  

Hermione knew that she was bringing unwanted attention and curiosity to her but the need to speak to Draco far out weighed her friends thoughts at the moment.  

There was a fear that struck with her if Draco sped off to Hogwarts and bumped into the real Millie and mention something about this night... It would be unsettling to admit that Millie wasn’t actually Millie, but her.  

Ultimately it was better that she tell him, rather than have Draco figure it all out by himself. She imagined he would feel like a fool or betrayed perhaps even the idea of snogging Hermione would disgust him. The negative plagued her fears but he did admit he loved her.

She gritted her teeth in frustration. It didn't mean he still loved her, did it? And it was no way to excuse the mess up that happened the night prior, especially since she could have just told Draco before anything went too far. 

Hermione really hated herself at the moment.

It should have been a fairly simple straight forward plan trying to get Marietta to admit who was the one who blackmailed her to go to Umbridge.  

When Hermione finally was able to speak to her last night, Marietta sang like a bird.

It was Millie. She was the catalyst that was behind the dismantling of the DA.

Marietta, upon seeing 'Millie', feared that she had come back to threaten her with more. Hermione found out that Marietta had been on edge considering that she was in attendance with the very people that Millie had warned her about. It was purely coincidental gut instinct to blame the one person that nearly everyone in their circle cringed at, but it also meant it was a special kind of challenge when Draco was considered in the entire ordeal. There was still the question of how exactly Millie figured it out.

It couldn't have been Draco as Hermione once regrettably thought. He would have been implicated much like Marietta who happened to have tamed her new bangs over the scarring of the boils on her forehead. Hermione had that awful assumption that Draco may have told her... maybe by accident or without realizing.

But Draco passed the obstacle of hexes and protection she had placed on the sign up list, even the ones she place covering the unintentional exposure of the DA.

It couldn’t have been him.  

It was certainly Millie who ordained the entire scheme and Hermione had a feeling it had something to do with her. She couldn’t fathom how Millie figured it out, but she did.  

Maybe Hermione had been too obvious.  

Daphne and Ginny had been awful to her recently, teasing Hermione how blind she was on her hidden feelings for Draco. She denied it of course because, truthfully, Hermione was always genuinely delighted to have Draco around, as friends of course.  

She had never questioned why he had changed but she was glad that he did and she had the opportunity to know him better over the past months. 

It was like seeing him in his truest colors instead of the inverted image his parents had brought him up with. Perhaps she should have questioned why he had changed but she hadn’t.  

All she knew was that Draco was observant and curious and willing to help. She admired how much dedication he put in to prove himself, even when he placed himself in risky situations. She even found him endearing when he taught a few meetings at the DA, swaying even more Slytherins into their cause.  

Then there was the accidental discovery of how wonderful the comfort of his arms were, the way he held her like she was the most delicate thing. The thought softened her because he loved her despite Hermione pining for someone else. 

Hermione's throat tightened once his door was in her line of vision, her racing heartbeat now in her throat, choking her words to call for him. Reaching his door, she raised her hand to knock. 

She paused, inhaling a shaky breath to get a grip on herself. She had to be brave.

Memories that had flooded in last night when she couldn’t sleep, were now swirling around in her head again. It was platonic. She had to force herself to think of them as just friends or else she wouldn't be able to survive the rest of this year.

Hermione’s fist tightened, trying to convince herself to knock on that damn door already but all she could see was burning flashes of last night. 

The kiss had been paralyzing.  

She had spent nearly more than a month battling the odd sensation of torment every time she ran into Draco after Valentines, convincing her friends (and herself) that it was nothing. It was no big deal. Even if Hermione was being silently tormented by the fact that she couldn't bring herself to speak to him. Her mouth refused to work for her when he so much as smiled walking by her or kindly greeted her in their lessons.  

Then it was the fact that anytime she saw Draco and Millie together she felt the wash of untamed jealousy flood her veins that settled into a grave sadness she’d torture herself with. She was sure Harry knew why she always asked for the Marauder’s map every night and it was because Hermione had to see if Draco was spending the night alone or not.  

The rush of tears would fill her eyes, unable to comprehend why she cared so much. Hermione contemplated that perhaps there was a chance she actually longed for Draco, but convinced herself that maybe it was the attention she missed. That theory was thrown out when the ache of wanting him around doubled. Curiously enough, her inability to speak to him as comfortably as she had once before also doubled the night Millie slapped her.  

That same night, when he found her in the Greenhouse, it felt like for once she hadn’t been the one to seek him out. He had been looking for her. Draco, without intending to, made Hermione feel like she was someone he sought.

And she fluttered.  

She felt the weight on her chest and she knew she was wrecked. 

She resisted the idea but her heart didn't. She fancied Draco.  

Oh god.  

It was a rich concept, wasn’t it? For a stupid girl to fall for her former bully.

Oh, how wonderful and gentle he was now... Spinning her into a daze as they danced. His voice low and his touch light, his fingers splayed on her back holding her like she was a treasure. Hermione’s heart stopped a few times, recalling the tiny details that grazed over her body.  

His lips and the shape of them on hers. For Merlin’s sake, his kiss felt like a slow fervent symphony. 

Hermione squeezed her eyes and shook her head.  

Not her.  

Millie. 

Hermione inwardly groaned wanting to collapse from the weight of her own stupidity for getting swept away.  

She had, embarrassingly, imagined that kissing Draco would be dramatic and opulent in romance like explosions of fireworks in her head and butterflies flapping around.  

Instead, she felt it as pure and intense like the sound of dizzying harp strings as her world slowed and dissolved away. Hermione recalled her knees giving out and that was only because Draco had held her tighter, feeling every inch of his broad chest and still wanting to feel more.  

“Hermione?”  

Draco suddenly appeared, the door swung open to reveal his towering figure and his furrowed brows. He was holding on to his bags, adjusting the straps on the shoulder. Hermione lowered her hand that was still positioned to knock.  

One look at his face and she blanked.  

Not that Draco noticed, no. He was busy fastening his belt through the loops of his chinos, before he laid his light hoodie down flat over his torso.  

“Do you know if Millie’s around?” Draco asked, “She wasn’t at breakfast.” 

There was a dull acidic pain that erupted in her chest, slowly gripping on to her heart.  

“Millie?” Hermione blinked, her breath soft.  

Draco nodded, finally looking square in Hermione’s face. She looked rather curious to Draco, like she was sort of lost or perhaps still half asleep.  

“I couldn’t find her toward the end of the night,” Draco admitted, “And I didn’t really get to finish the night. Came in to lay down for a bit and somehow slept through the night.” 

Hermione wanted to tell him she knew because as reckless as all their plans were, amateur at best, Ginny’s best idea to rectify the situation was to slip a single drop of Seditivrum into Draco’s drink. The headache was just him bumping into the wall the moment the potion hit his system. He had to be levitated back into his room.  

“Millie,” Hermione gulped, “Left with her parents last night.”  

“Oh,” Draco cocked his head to the side as if he was trying to recollect his memory. It made Hermione nervous because he was gifted in that sort of thing. “Then I should hurry back.” 

“Draco-” 

“I’ll see you around ‘Mione,” Draco smiled politely, his warmth she had experienced the night before was now gone.  

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Later on in the week, Draco had found himself absentmindedly doodling figures in his notebook, seemingly working on his penmanship of his ancient runes. He was, in fact, jotting down a few cryptic ideas of how to animate a map without the prying eyes of professors. Even the most skilled Runes reader would need more than a glance to decipher Draco's findings in the library. 

Which amounted to a disappointing amount of zero. Draco ran his tongue across his teeth, jotting down the last area of the Restricted Section in the library that Fred and George might find something of worth. 

He stopped writing.  

“Mr. Malfoy!” Professor McGonagall raised her voice, pulling Draco back to focus. His head snapped away from his notes that he had been lost in.   

“Yes, Professor?” Draco responded, clearing his throat as he straightened up.  

“Do you mind taking a break from writing in your diary and join the class exercise? The spell will only be on your OWLs, nothing too important surely.” She said exasperated.   

Draco ducked his head to apologize as his professor marched over towards him, her wand gripped tightly in her hand. Draco snapped his up immediately.  

“Take your wand. Demonstrate your vanishing charm you’ve presumably been practicing all this year.” Professor McGonagall pursed her lips together, placing a rather shy snail that was shrinking into its own shell right on Draco’s closed notebook. It left a rather thick slime trail as it tried to get away.  

Draco looked down at the snail the size of a galleon on his desk. All around him were various faces, all disgruntled with their animals in front of them, still very much there in solid form. They were flourishing their wands the way that McGonagall had told them not to.   

It was not Charms class.   

Transfiguration, although did have wand movement, was much more concentrated and focused.   

Draco picked up his wand and with a stiff controlled flick he said the incantation.   

“Evanesco.”  

Slowly but surely, the began snail dissolved into thin air, even the slime had disappeared. Draco grinned to himself and although his friends were rather impressed with him, McGonagall was far from it. She stepped over to the mouse that was in front of Dean and placed it in front of Draco.   

“Well done, Mr. Malfoy. Proceed to practice on the mouse. Hopefully you can advance your progress rather than doodle hearts all over your notes.” She nodded promptly, taking a single step away from Draco to mentor other students.  

Draco picked up his wand and flicked it again.   

“Evanesco.” Draco lightly commanded.   

Just like the snail before, the mouse squeaked before it also vanished. Draco’s peers, who had been disgruntled with the tedious failure of each student, perked up in realization that someone else had succeeded with the mouse and with the first attempt as well.  

McGonagall, who was in the middle of a step, looked over her shoulder to see Draco’s quick advancement.  

Even Hermione upon hearing the whispers of the class, looked up from her meticulous note taking and made eye contact with Draco for a split second.   

Before Draco could give her a quick proud smile, Hermione whirled back around, a tint of red already burning at her cheeks.   

McGonagall cleared her throat when a painful praise escaped her mouth and returned with a rather large rabbit. It was chocolate in color and even-tempered as it sniffed around Draco’s desk the second it was placed in front of him.  

“Well done.” She curtly congratulated, “A rabbit is the next animal to master before we can make it towards a cat, which is expected from everyone for your OWLs-”  

“Evanesco,” Draco said once more and like before, the rabbit began to dissolve into nothing. If it hadn’t been for the slight thumping on Draco’s desk, one would have thought Draco charmed it out of existence.   

There was a triumphant hollering for Draco, Crabbe and Goyle lightly pushed him around, rough housing him for being the first in class to reach rabbit level for the vanishing charm.   

Ron leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking appreciatively at Daphne who was also reviewing her own notes paying no mind to the small celebration Draco’s peers were having for him.   

“Bet that’ll get under Hermione’s skin.” Ron chuckled.  

Daphne scolded him with a light glare and huffed, “Ron.”  

Ron smirked, motioning Daphne to look at Hermione who was sitting at the front of the class, her back as stiff as a board. Her notes were at her nose as she studied her past executions of the spells, the tips of her ears now burning brightly red.  

McGonagall cleared her throat, trying hard to mask her satisfaction.   

“Well,” She said as she readjusted her glasses, “We can work on the cat as soon as next week for you, Mr. Malfoy.”  

Draco smiled and before he knew it, Hermione’s heartbroken expression that her own rabbit was still as solid and visible was in his line of view.  

It was something that Draco instinctively wanted to tease her on. He wasn’t sure where exactly he stood with her currently. They seemed to be on better terms at Daphne’s party, they had exchanged a few words and Draco couldn't forget about her legs.

It gave him a rather cheeky smile when he thought about them.

However, ever since Draco began to make an earnest pursuit of Millie, Hermione was distance once more. It was as if she was giving him space to reconnect with Millie, giving him the best shot at getting her back. Except, Draco didn't really care for space. He liked Hermione in his life even if he decided to pursue someone else.

Sure, Millie was still actively ignoring him but he was sure it was because the truth of what he had told her still weighed heavy on her mind. He could imagine it was a lot to process. He didn’t expect a kiss to erase all his shitty behavior but, if he was honest, it was a pretty fucking fantastic kiss.

There was no way she wasn’t thinking about it. Draco couldn’t think of anything else. However, Millie's avoidance had a subtle sting to the rejection, gently hollowing out the pit in his stomach every time Millie turn her nose up at him. It only made him more determined to get her approval back.  

Transfiguration ended shortly after, causing everyone to rush out of the damp cool classroom. It was a warm spring day, the weather was bright and sunny and everyone wanted to take advantage of it after a bleak winter. Daphne pulled Ron out begging him to hurry so they could have a bit of rest before the rest of their afternoon classes. Pansy and Neville joined up and shared their misery of being one of the few who still hadn't mastered the required spells, while Crabbe and Lavender Brown lightly argued over some article they read in Witch Weekly. 

Draco slung his bag on his shoulder ready to go back to his room for a bit of a nap before his afternoon lessons started up. The class had quickly emptied out except for a few bodies. From the corner of his eye he caught Harry talking to Hermione and, although he didn’t think much of it, it soon dragged him back to a very familiar yearning feeling. 

Harry called Draco over, waving his arm to catch his attention.  

Draco hadn’t had the opportunity to interact with Hermione in a while so he hesitated, wondering if she would run away the moment he stepped within three feet from her. 

He wasn’t stupid. Even if his sights were on winning back Millie, it’s not like Draco had overlooked Hermione going out of her way to steer clear from him. There was an entertaining thought, a fantasy almost, that Hermione was now in love with him and was seething with jealously in the way that he suffered when he found out about Krum. 

Draco smirked at the thought. What a funny thing that would be.  

He did approach them, nonetheless, taking deliberate slow steps towards the pair, hoping that he wouldn’t frighten Hermione away.  

“Hey,” Draco breathlessly said, making sure he took a long look at Harry before stealing a glance at Hermione, “What's going on?”  

Harry slightly smirked, a devious look on his face, “Planning a rather risky play for our final quidditch game.”  

Draco rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. Of course. Their final quidditch match would be at the end of April against each other and the huge question had been who would be replacing Harry as their seeker since Umbridge had kicked him off the team.  

“Is that so?” Draco snorted, “I thought you were banned from playing since Umbridge found out about the DA.”  

“I am.” Harry winked, elbowing Hermione lightly to join in on the banter. She remained quiet.  

“Shouldn’t you be holding last minute replacement try outs?” Draco asked.  

“We sort of have an idea,” Harry grimaced when he got a very disapproving smile from Hermione, “I wanted to hear from you to see if you thought it was fair.”  

“Okay?” Draco nodded, “Go on.”  

“He’s not going to agree that it’s fair, Harry,” Hermione muttered out, "Using Polyjuice potion to allow you to play is strictly forbidden in the Quidditch rulebook.”   

Draco felt a small smirk coming on, “She’s read the rulebook?”  

“Apparently,” Harry retorted, “Then again, it is really that surprising?” 

“What book hasn’t Hermione touched?” Draco let out a small breathy laugh. 

Harry shrugged, mirroring Draco’s amusement. Hermione rolled her eyes in frustration not one to be the butt of their jokes.   

“Hermione promised she wouldn’t make a fuss over it if you agreed-”  

“Sure,” Draco interjected, “I rather play against you than face some poor last minute replacement. That wouldn’t be a fair match, would it?”  

“Draco!” Hermione scoffed and suddenly turned her head away, her hands in a fist, as if she was disappointed in herself for breaking an unspoken promise of not saying his name.  

“It’s a lot of pressure to put on a newcomer last minute,” Draco pointed out, “I don’t think it would be fair to whoever steps in Harry’s shoes to face your house at the sure loss.”  

Harry gave his friend a pointed look, as if to say ‘See? I told you!’. 

“What makes you think it would be a sure loss?” Hermione scoffed.  

Harry crossed his arms pretentiously as Draco motioned the confident seeker up and down, as if that was enough of an explanation. 

Hermione huffed, “Fine. You two. Do whatever you please. I need to get to class.”  

Harry and Draco followed Hermione out of Transfigurations who seemed to have a hurried step until Draco spoke up, his eyes on the back of that head of hers.   

“How do you plan on carrying it out?” Draco asked, “Without getting caught?”  

Harry sighed, “Well, not too sure on our plans. We still need to work out some kinks but, ideally, Neville would have taken a Polyjuice to replace me during the detention so that Umbridge would think I was missing the game. But, um, our Polyjuice supply is a bit low and we weren’t sure if we could make another batch on time.”  

“So?” Draco urged, “What’s the plan?”   

“What Neville does have is a surplus of Sedativrum. Umbridge had a good night sleep when Fred and George slipped her some for the last party.”  

Ah yes, the party Draco fully wanted to forget.  

Draco snorted, “Blimey Harry, again? Your plan is to slip her the potion again? How long will she be out for this time? Two days?”  

“No,” Harry gave a half shrug, “Technically it’s not my plan and technically, not for that long. Hermione thought small doses would make her less of a threat.”  

Draco furrowed his brows at the gall of that girl.   

His mouth was open in shock when Hermione, who had been progressively slowing down to overhear their conversation, whirled back around ready to defend herself from such accusations.   

“I did not!” Hermione argued, “All I said was that she took a full day and half to recover and perhaps next time the twins shouldn’t be so heavy handed!”   

Draco cocked his brow up at her, "Suggesting you expected a next time."

Harry snorted, “Thus the idea of microdoses was born, so that when the quidditch final comes around, she won’t be so suspicious when she wakes up in a few hours, instead of days. Dean and Neville have been meticulously dosing her each afternoon and taking notes to calculate how much will be needed to knock her out for about ten hours.”  

“Neville?” Draco asked.

Harry shrugged, "We both have detention until the year ends. Luckily for us, Umbrdige doesn't really see Neville as a threat."

“I see,” Draco squinted, a bunch of new question sprouting in his head, “So putting Umbridge to sleep. Don't you think other professors would be against it?”

"Already asked," Harry grinned, "Most rather like the idea of defying Umbridge. Even Snape."

"Don't you think ten hours is overkill?" Draco asked.

“Yes. It is." Hermione pipped up, glaring at Harry, "They want to calculate it to the second so celebrations can be held.”

Harry clamped an iron hand on Hermione’s shoulder, “Speaking of celebrations, we’ve thought of holding it in the winner’s Common Room or Room of Requirement. Do you think the house elves would be able to make and deliver meals? Food would really be nice to have on hand.”  

“I should get going to Arithmancy.” Hermione announced abruptly, suddenly very nervous.  

Draco sighed, “I don’t know? Possibly?”  

Harry glanced at his friend who was now looking like she rather die than to stand another second there with them.   

“Really?” Harry began, “Hermione said that you got food delivered once to your dorm-”  

“Harry!” Hermione wailed, her face erupting in a brilliant shade of red, embarrassed that Harry had mentioned something that didn’t seem like a big deal to Draco.   

That is, until he realized that Hermione had been referencing Valentine’s night, where they were comfortable in each other’s company, too comfortable perhaps. It was a treasured memory he stored away in the depths of his soul and yes, her remembered Hermione being famished from her terrible night and how he was able to get her food.

There was a crack in his illusion, almost as if he was reminded that he loved the girl in front of him. He was aware of it of course, but it was like his heart was begging his mind to reset or to remember. 

It was the last time things had been normal between them. Draco pocketed his hands in his trousers in thought.   

“Oh, yeah. I did,” Draco nodded slowly, "I did get Hermione some food...”  

“You know more about house elves, right Draco? Do you think it would be possibly to offer them some sort of compensation to help give us more food?” Harry asked, glancing at his friend, “Hermione’s been down there several times trying to free them with S.P.E.W. but they normally ignore her.”  

Draco’s grey eyes flickered to Hermione, her tied up hair made it impossible for her to hide her redden face behind that beautiful mane of hers.   

“Well, they only really respond to those they vowed loyalty to,” Draco eyes rolled up in thought, “And Hufflepuffs.”  

Hermione perked up in interest, “Hufflepuffs? Why Hufflepuffs?”  

“Didn’t you know?” Draco cocked his head, “Hufflepuff House is right next to the kitchens.”  

Draco smirked suddenly. 

“You’d know if you’d would have dedicated a bit more time on that Map of yours.” Draco winked, reminding Hermione of that one feeble attempt to exploring Ravenclaw for the benefit of expanding the Map’s knowledge.  

“Of course,” Harry grinned, “That map only shows you the houses you’ve been to...”  

Harry's face brightened up as if he was struck with a brilliant plan. He gleefully patted Draco’s arm and began to jog off.   

“I've got to go find Fred and George. Thanks Draco,” Harry grinned, “Seriously don’t know what we’d do without you.”  

There was a flicker of innocent happiness Draco felt, like the wonder of his childhood, daydreaming if Harry and him would ever be friends or even take on the world together.  

And it sort of felt like it did.   

They had been taking on the Ministry together and it was something he’d never thought possible when he saw how rocky their relationship was at the beginning.   

Harry skipped off, heading outside for a bit of fresh air, leaving Hermione alone with him. She stood there gawking at her disappearing friend before she tried to quickly excuse herself. She didn’t get far. Not even a half step.  

“Got somewhere to go?” Draco asked, freezing her in place.  

“Arithmancy,” She shortly said, the first time her words have been directed back at him.   

“I’m heading that way, I can walk you,” Draco offered.   

“No,” She muttered, her gaze shifting, avoiding his gentle stare.   

Draco narrowed his eyes, his confidence taking a hit, “No? It’s just walking, ‘Mione.”  

“But-”  

Draco shrugged, “Who’s going to care?” 

Hermione’s jaw went tight but she tried her best to make the most of the time she had, seeing how moments when Draco wanted to spend time with her were few and far between now. Hermione thought of how she used to act around Draco without being so damn nervous. 

And that was the key. 

Hermione needed to not care like she did before. She simply enjoyed his company and said whatever came to her without thinking twice about it.

Hermione let out a goofy smile, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll seduce you?”  

As much as that sounded like a fantastical idea that Draco would have once loved, he noted how odd Hermione was acting and it mildly confused him. Draco snorted. Was she trying to tease him for a change? 

He was sure that Hermione would never do such a thing when she hadn’t seen him in that way. A tinge of pain flashed through Hermione’s eyes, feeling stupid for even saying it out loud. Perhaps she should have thought twice about that.

She meant it as a reference to Millie’s anger towards her but it was lost in translation and Draco was now simply looking at her like she lost her mind.  

She quickly recovered.   

“Has it escape your reasoning that carrying on as if nothing has occurred-”  

"Nothing has occurred!" Draco exclaimed, "At least not like Millie believes, and if we carrying on tip toeing around it. It's going to seem like she was on to something, don't you think?"

Hermione wanted to die.

“If it’s what people were saying that is bothering you,” He began, “The people who matter know how Millie blew it out of proportion. They’ve seen us. It’s not at all a surprise to anyone. It's almost ridiculous.”  

“Ridiculous?” Hermione repeated, her voice soft, “Yes.”  

Hermione cleared her throat.  

“You’ve been trying to patch things up with her, haven’t you?” Hermione asked, trying to clarify Draco’s intentions, “I don’t see how insisting to be friends will convince her yo- you’re...” 

Draco felt himself soften seeing Hermione struggle with her words, “Don’t worry about Millie. I’m well aware she’s not everyone’s cup of tea and it’s partly my fault. I’ve been trying to be honest and apologize...” 

Draco thought of how he told Millie that he had been in love with Hermione and certainly that was not something most people would admit to. And despite that, Millie hadn’t gone on a rampage about it when her intuition had been justified, but just not in the way she had expected it.  

“I,” Draco began again, “I think she’ll come around. At Daph’s party, I was honest with her about everything.” 

Thinking of that night and how he felt, Draco was nearly certain his feelings had changed. He didn’t know why he wasn’t completely certain of it the way he knew he loved Hermione, but if he swayed for even a second, perhaps his love could evolve. 

“Everything?” Hermione repeated.  

“Well, no,” Draco said introspectively. He tried to speak but the truth he once spoke was caught in his throat. It felt like left was right and right was left, a disorientating feeling he had once been so sure about.  

"But I certainly owe you an apology, too. I never intended you to be the target of her misguided anger with me.” Draco sighed out slowly. He was trying to make right on this new path but somehow, as he straightened his life out, it felt oddly... odd. 

Like swinging his arms out of sync with his steps. 

“I think she now understands the reason I hate when relationships are so public. The weight of other’s opinions and gossip must have really gotten to her.” Draco pensively said, looking at his feet as he walked. 

Hermione let out a rather forced laugh, like she knew something rather funny that he didn’t. 

“I think it got to her that the school entertains in the thought of you and me like a fantasy, a fairy tale.” Draco winced.

Hermione stilled.  

"The idea is pretty comical, is it not?” He shook his head, “I’d imagine you’d rather take the Cruciatus curse than think of me any other way.”  

It was self-deprecating. He knew that. Even if he had harbored feelings for her, Draco not once had thought Hermione could ever reciprocate feelings.  

He had been too consumed in his own feelings that he never wondered how splendid it would be if she...  

He gulped, grieving the ruminating sorrow of closing a chapter. He had to move on right? He felt feelings for Millie, real feelings that made him feel unworldly. 

Besides, Hermione was too good to fall for someone like him. She deserved someone who wasn’t Draco.   

He never minded allowing himself to fall for her and to appreciate her as a person. Draco knew she was special and he had plenty of evidence to know that she would always have a place in his heart. She was, after all, the catalyst for the biggest shift in his life. He was indebted to her, and perhaps his love wasn’t enough to repay all that he owed her.   

And he was okay with that. He’d spend the rest of his life recalling the girl who had tenderized his heart that forced him out of his own circle.  

Hermione stare was distant. The books in her arms were pressed against her chest, eyes glazed over. It almost looked like she was about to cry.   

His heart quickened.   

“Granger?” Draco whispered, “Are you okay?”  

Hermione sniffed and nodded, “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”  

Draco paused wondering if he should push. He decided against it, holding out his hand to carry her bookbag. She reluctantly handed it over to him, avoiding looking directly at him.  

“Carrying boulders?” Draco joked. Hermione sniffed and gave him a weary look.   

“Shut up,” She sighed, a weary smile forming.  

They slowly strolled ahead, hearing the echos of their dragging footsteps in the empty corridors, walking about a foot apart from each other but comfortable with the company they kept. Draco could tell that most classes either still had another hour left, or if not, students were making the most of their day by going outside.   

Draco was lucky he had a free period but it also looked like Hermione was in no rush to make it to Arithmancy on time. Hermione didn’t seem at all bothered by it.   

By the time they reached her class, Draco handed her bookbag to Hermione. He gave her a quick farewell and trotted off. Hermione stood at the door, watching him grow smaller.  

She once had been loved by him and she was too stupid to have noticed. She had realized it far too late and unintentionally led him back to that vile piece of trash. Her eyes closed gently, feeling the searing pain radiate in her core.  

How did he bear it? If he had loved Hermione, how did he cope with her proximity while dating Krum while she can barely withstand Draco wanting to get back with Millie? 

Especially with the knowledge of Millie’s secrets. If Draco knew, if only he knew half of it, Hermione doubted he would be seeking her attention.  

There was no doubt that Draco deserved to know what has been discovered but it felt like a conflict of interest if it was Hermione who spilled Millie’s dirty secrets. She would have told him the second she knew but was it for her own interest or sincerely for his? 

Then there was the question of her own secrets. 

Her own painful development of falling for him and being the one to hear that he had once loved her, when he thought he was admitting it to Millie.  

And that kiss.  

Hermione’s head leaned against the wall, surrendering herself to the turmoil of what was right and what was self-serving. 

Closing her eyes, feeling the weight of the soft tenderness she held for Draco, Hermione silently hoped that her prayers would sway Millie to not take Draco back.  

Then, it would be easier to confide in him everything Millie had done in harm of all his friends.  

However her feelings and how she managed to gain that kind of intel on Millie, perhaps it would be better to keep that to herself for a bit longer.