fervere

Chapter Forty Two

“It is alarming that you haven’t even considered doing the minimum amount of work to do yourself the favor and keep yourself out of trouble,” Snape drawled, hovering over Draco in his hospital bed. His professor had a silencing charm casted around them the second Draco stepped into the Hospital Wing.   

Draco’s head lull to the side, sick and sniffly, heavy with drowsiness and fever. It was nearing five in the morning and he had just gotten out of his clothes, bathed and now in a comforting warm bed. What he really needed was a good solid twenty hours of sleep.   

He didn’t see why his occlumency lesson refresher had to start the second he stepped foot at Hogwarts. The sense of urgency in Snape’s tone made Draco bite his tongue and allow his professor scold him, wasting about a full fifteen minutes before he even started working on Draco’s mind.  

“Let us assess how much you have to veil before summer comes,” His professor gave him a rather grave look, “I will not have you blow our cover if the Dark Lord suspects even a fraction of this ruse.”  

Draco felt like rubbish, the fever finally bringing him to his knees. He also had an inkling that he looked like rubbish as well. However, not all was terrible.

Seeing Aster, Snape’s dog, waging his tail faithfully at Snape’s side would put Draco in a better mood considering there was someone that cared for his well being at the moment. Aster would whine lightly at the sight of Draco and even jumped on his hind legs to reach Draco’s hands, which he licked.   

“Is it really that necessary?” Draco sighed, relaxing back into his pillow allowing the remedies to take. “Don’t I have all summer to arrange my memories?”  

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

News of the infiltration spread like wild fire amongst the students, as well as the rest of the wizarding world. Faces of Harry Potter was slapped all over the Daily Prophet, warning their society that things were no longer as safe as it would appear. 

It was all that was being talked about for the next three days following the Ministry’s Infiltration.  

At least that’s what Draco heard.  

He spent those three days in a haze, sleeping off the remainder of his ailment because he really couldn’t fathom doing anything else, not when Snape would tear down the little energy that he was able to recuperate during his rest. 

When Draco finally broke through the fever and began to eat a bit more, he was quickly slapped with updates of what had been going on around him.  

First, he was told that Millie had been actively begging Madam Pomfrey visitation Draco but because of the recent outbreak of Kneazle Pox, she was denied. Draco secretly thanked Madam Poomfrey from isolating him from everyone.

Second, Hermione was still cooped up in the Hospital Wing (far from the corner where Draco was situated) receiving a few painful massages from Madam Pomfrey who tended to her shoulder. Hermione would often let out a muffled cry through ragged breaths that would enrage Draco, nearly getting out of his own bed to shout at Madam Pomfrey for being to rough with her..  

Third, like Draco, Harry was stuck in the Hospital Wing for a mandatory stretch of time too. It must have been so that Harry could grieve in peace while he went back and forth to St. Mungo’s in the mornings to piece together his recollections through an intense memory retrieval therapy.  

Harry would return around mid afternoon and go straight to sleep under the heavy surveillance of Madam Pomfrey. Draco pretended not to hear Harry’s own muffled cries in the middle of the night. 

Lastly, and Draco’s favorite and least favorite of the updates was that Daphne proved to be very capable assistant, washing out instruments and setting up new clean beds when new cases of Kneazle Pox knocked at their door.  

Doubtful at first of Daphne, Madam Pomfrey was glad to have her around for the extra hand especially when all ten of their beds were now occupied. 

Draco knew Daphne would not be able to stay still.  

When Daphne received word of what had happened that very morning, she came running into the Hospital Wing in search of Ron, only to be met with the news that he will be well tended at home, (as well as grounded for the rest of the Summer). 

Daphne, with no outlet to let out her unease, jumped at the opportunity to tend to her friends. Daphne often retrieved school work for Luna and Hermione who were both recovering from deep bodily injuries. She also helped administer the medicine that Madam Pomfrey set out for the Kneazle cases. 

It was her own way to keep busy and not to dwell too much into wondering how Ron was faring.  

Draco had watched her closely, noting the dark circle under Daphne’s pale eyes and the slight grey under her eyes from lack of sleep. She had been worried sick.  

Draco didn’t speak much of the incident even after a week of being hospitalized. He had to see the last of his freedom bounded to his bed. The forgotten night ruminated in Draco’s head once he had been able to sit up and daub ointment on his own healing pox.  

One day after staring off into the distance for far too long, Daphne made a point to snap at him, slamming his tray of medicines on his bedside in fury.  He had been curiously silent for most of his stay, settling on his annoying feeling that he had forgotten a rather big thing based on the way his heart flopped as if it was fighting with him.  

“WHY DIDN’T YOU LET ME KNOW?” Daphne shouted. He jumped in his skin, ripping his unfocused vision off of the ceilings to turn on her. 

Her eruption could have been about anything.  

The map that Ginny animated.  

Harry’s vision.  

Or even the missed opportunity to swing by Daphne's and let her know what was going on before they all embarked to the Ministry.  

Aster, who was faithfully napping at Draco’s feet, snapped up and let out a small yelp at Daphne for disturbing Draco’s peace. Aster hadn’t left his side since his lessons started up with Snape. It was as if the dog recalled seeing all the terrible torturous lessons Draco had to go through last summer and insisted being a comfort to Draco. 

Embarrassed, Daphne had quickly collected herself, her eyes welling up in tears, before marching away.  

Draco understood her frustration but he was a bit pouty over the fact that Daphne had not once shouted at Hermione or Luna that way.  

That wasn’t saying much, Draco internally admitted. Draco heard a few tense conversations between the girls while he drifted in and out of sleep at times. 

No one was really safe from Daphne’s wrath. She was cold with Harry when he returned from St. Mungo’s to rest. Only doing the bare minimum when it came to his care compared to the sick students with the Kneazles. 

It made Draco a bit chuffed to know he wasn’t the only one receiving the well-earned shun from Daphne and, although he’d never admit it to her now, he was glad she was around despite being furious with all of them.  

Her need to make sure they were all alright far outweighed her despair. 

In fact, Draco was one of the last people Daphne came around to as if it was his fault that this whole plan was concocted at the last minute. Sure, he might have given Harry all the necessary ingredients to give rise to the idea but it wasn’t him , was it? 

Daphne was reluctant to tend to him but once she saw one of Snape’s lessons with Draco and she immediately dropped her petty snubs. The severity of rebuilding Draco’s mental fortifications was nothing short of ghastly to witness. 

Draco should have seen it coming. Snape had warned him he was going to have a nice chat with him after he caught Draco almost swooping down on Hermione for a kiss the first day of OWLs.  

And every evening Draco paid for it, doubling over at Snape’s intrusive stab at Draco’s memories.  

Snape saw everything that had happen for the past two months.  

He took notes, reminding Draco what needed to hide and what memories he should alter should the Dark Lord ever need a reason to prod around his mind.  

There was a lot of damning evidence of Draco’s influence on his peers and even worse, his participation in the DA. That aside, as hard as Snape tried, he couldn’t get to those early memories Draco had buried deep in his heart.  

But he tried, leaving Draco a sweaty weakened mess after reeducating.  

Daphne wavered seeing him night after night, softening at how pale and near unconsciousness he was left in. She’d often tilt the vials of tonics he had taken during the summer to help him recover faster. She’d then take a damp cloth to dab his face dry, before she led to him to the bathrooms, to take his own recovery baths so that his Kneazle Pox would heal over.  

Hermione couldn’t help but to watch him from the corner of her eye as she sat by Harry’s bedside, listening to Harry piece together his own fractured memories. Their dinner trays were half eaten and set aside, long forgotten.  

“So we entered?” Hermione said slowly, trying not to aggravate a grieving Harry as she prompted him to continue. There was something painfully empty behind his green eyes when he thought of his Godfather and his death.  

He sniffed.  

“Then I remember dizziness. That circular room on the map, it spins.” Harry slowly informed.  

Hermione nodded, although she wasn’t certain. A spinning room was possible, if the Department had protection wards to keep strangers out of their rooms.  

Harry paused.  

“I can’t recall anything other than you and Draco following me,” Harry shrugged, “And I’m not even sure if that really happened.” 

“Me and Draco?” Hermione’s heart skipped a beat, wanting to ask if she had been wearing his hoodie at that point of the spinning room.  

Harry chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully in appearance but was actually trying to stop his chin from quivering. Hermione withdrew, knowing that if she pressed on Harry would shut her out. Thankfully they were both distracted when Daphne walked back out of the bathroom, giving Hermione a split second view of Draco taking off his hospital gown, his back muscles rippling as he stretched.  

A deep red cut was slashed diagonally on his left shoulder, speckled with Kneazle pox scars. 

“You need the spells and antidotes they’re giving me, right?” Harry kept his attention on Hermione, wheeling back their conversation to Hermione’s original intention, “You really think you’ll be able to... what am I even saying, I’m sure you’ll figure it out in a month or so.” 

Hermione gave him a sheepish wincing shrug, “I’m not sure but it’s a start. I think it will benefit us all if we all can remember. I got a letter from Ginny and she said she feels an extreme amount of guilt and she can’t understand why.” 

Harry remained quiet for a full pause, while Daphne came by and narrowed her eyes at Hermione when she noticed their half eaten trays. Harry and Hermione quickly picked up their bread rolls and stuffed it into their mouths before they got an earful from Daphne. 

“Do you think that the guilt indicates...” Harry winced as if it pained him to ask the question that plagued Hermione’s mind. She understood his train of thought because that insistent thought of Draco wouldn’t leave her.  

Hermione shook her head, “I think we all feel guilty that we failed you, Harry. Failed Sirius.” 

Harry pressed his lips together, his eyes squeezed tightly. His own guilt for letting unreasonable thoughts pass through his head. Hermione extended a hand, soothing Harry’s upper arm.  

“You’re being discharged tonight,” Harry asked, “Right?” 

Hermione nodded gravely, wondering how she was going to help Harry jog his memories like he begged her to do. 

“Madam Pomfrey still needs to give me a final clearance but, yes, in a few minutes I can go back to the dorms,” Hermione said, noticing how Harry’s face began to frown, “I’ll come by every day, at this hour if you want. I can use the invisibility cloak. It’s under your mattress, right?” 

Harry shook his head, “Hermione, I lent it to you. Don’t you remember? You took it since it was after curfew when you and Ginny went off to share the good news to Draco.” 

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but she did recall. She had taken it to see Draco and... most likely was still in his room. Hermione inwardly groaned.  

“Right,” Hermione let out a final huff, “I know where it is. Just need to go fetch it. I’ll come back tomorrow so you can tell me about those spells and potions you’ve taken at St. Mungos.” 

Worry etched Hermione’s face as she saw her friend tense under his covers. Harry responded with a wordless nod before his eyes widened and he took a another heaping spoonful of mash potatoes. Daphne’s soft footsteps were nearly undetectable to Hermione who had her back to her.  

Daphne stopped by and frowned at the both of them.  

Madam Pomfrey wishes to see you, Hermione,” Daphne announced, before she whipped back around after she had set a pile of fresh warm towels in her arms to set out for Draco.  

Hermione gave Harry a kiss on his forehead before she tiptoed off to her own bed, bumping into Daphne who hadn't really moved.

Daphne watched her carefully, her eyes zeroing in on her neck to accompany Hermione to Madam Pomfrey’s office. 

“You know you need to follow decency rules in the Wing. Silencing charms are effective but you know better than to sneak into Draco’s bed late at night, ‘Mione,” Daphne let out a disappointing look, before she opened Madam Pomfrey’s door and let her in. 

Hermione’s face burned.  

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Every night Draco plunged himself into a dreamless sleep and spent the majority of his mornings going through his mind, sifting through each day at Hogwarts to figure out what to do with all the damning evidence Snape kept digging up.  

When he came across Valentine’s, Snape sneered at his student in disgust, as he was in the very room where Hermione and Draco slept comfortably in each other’s arms.  

Draco stood by his professor’s side, wondering how he was able to witness his own memory as a spectator.  

A lump in his throat formed and his heart flopped again seeing how intimate that night was. He hadn’t intended it to be. Hermione had stupidly thrown a cover over him and curled up next to him. Draco had awaken moments later, finding her shivering. He had thrown the cover over her too and after a few moments of soft words and adjusting, they took a moment to look into each other's eyes. 

It reminded Draco of why he hadn’t put this memory away. He hung on to that one sweet moment because he saw that painful sweetness in her sleepy eyes and he had hoped with all his might that he could bare the weight for her.   

“Interesting way, to heed my warnings,” Snape drawled, stepping out of his memory. Draco lingered for a second, taking a second look when Hermione’s nose nuzzled up his neck. Draco followed Snape out, smoke and wisp blurring at the edges of his mind as they moved through days, only to be presented with more. Draco inwardly groan seeing his own memory play out in front of him.  

It was embarrassing when Snape witnessed him as he ogled Hermione when she walked by him in her bathing suit in France, collapsing in his own delight before jumping into the shower to take care of himself. 

Even worse when she came out in nothing but a t-shirt that clung to her body. Draco raced in front of the memory Hermione, blockings Snape’s view.  

“This was an accident!” Draco fought back, “This doesn’t count.” 

Snape blinked incredulously, sneering at how hopeless Draco was now. He stormed back into the edges of smoke of his memories to pop into the final damning memory.  

The gentle kiss Hermione planted on him, the first day of OWLs.  

Draco saw his own face blank in the middle of a very empty but VERY open corridor, eyes stirring with a dark magnetism, leaning back in to return the favor. He hadn’t even noticed Hermione’s eyes fluttering shut about to receive him.  

He had meant to put that memory away... when he was finished marveling in it.  

Draco winced at the stupidity of it all. 

Snape having access to everything meant he was also fully aware of the France mix up, as well as when Draco foolishly chased after a girl who would trade in his own friends for a ticket out of detention.  

Snape pulled out of his head, sitting on the stool next to his bed side. He pinched the bridge of his curved nose and remained silent for a moment, cursed with the drama of teenaged love affairs. 

Draco was happy he had been lying down. He was feeling worse from the Legilimency than from his own Kneazle Pox. He laid there, weak, sheets soaked in sweat from the repeated intrusion of Legilimency.  

Worse part was, Draco had to now fight himself from putting up the guards that Snape had trained him to do.  

It was necessary for Snape to see everything he forgot to hide away so he could pin point the exact memories that were of concern. Draco had managed to keep those memories out of Snape’s grasp but he eventually found them, and once he found one, he found them all.  

Now, there was one thing that Draco was thankful for because Snape had no interest in why he clung on to the sentimental parts of his interactions with Hermione. Nor did he go anywhere near any recollections of his time with Millie. There were a lot of hot and heavy nights that Draco was not at all proud of and would have died in in shame if Snape took a peek into those corners.  

“You have a conversation she requested you finish?” Snape asked. If it wasn’t for the silencing charm around them, Draco would have loved to die on the spot. Snape just finished Draco's confrontation with Hermione.  

And the fact that she asked him a direct question that he finished for her. 

Did he still love her?” 

Snape cocked an eyebrow up, knowing that it was a question that hung in the air and if he knew his students at all, Snape had a feeling Hermione would eventually have the urge to have the questions answered.  

“I don’t want to speak to her... I don’t even know what to say,” Draco gulped, “But I know I must.” 

“You must not ,” Snape advised, “What do you think will happen if you are honest?” 

Draco frowned.  

“Or better yet, if you lied?” Snape added.  

Draco remained silent as the decision hung in the air, he picked at a loose thread of his blanket, contemplating.  

Memories of the night of the Department of Mysteries was now proven to be well hidden, seeing how Snape nearly knocked him out trying his best to get into the infiltration. However, Snape added it to the long list of things Draco needed to hide (the beginning and the conclusion of it, at least).  

As hard as it was to have Snape intrude and criticize his life choices, Draco allowed him to invade his mind in hopes that somehow Snape would be able to come across what happened.  

Perhaps Snape’d find out the truth for Draco. 

The role his father played at the Department.  

If anyone had recognized him.  

Maybe Draco even witnessed Sirius’ death... 

The mere thought sent shivers down his spine. There was also something else that weight heavy on his chest, like his own body protesting for forgetting, but it could have very well been the wounds that were now healing. Who knows.  

Most of his facial injuries were fading and overshadowed by the crusting of his blisters. The lacerations of his legs had been healing well due to the salve of dittany Madam Pomfrey dressed him with every morning and the afternoon medicinal baths that Daphne drew for him.  

Madam Pomfrey hadn’t been convinced by Draco’s throw away explanation of his own injuries, giving him a stern look at how deep some wounds were.  

“Fell off a broom,” Draco told her when he was first brought in, “I- erm, I fainted because of the fever and fell off.” 

“In the middle of the night?” She asked narrowing her eyes.  

“Yes,” Draco blurted.  

“In your room?” Madam Pomfrey glared, nearly insulted that Draco undermined her intelligence. It wasn’t that he expected her to believe him. He simply needed her to not go on and inform his parents of any kind of injury that was outside of the scope of Kneazles. 

There was something curious about not remembering, especially when he had grown accustom to recalling everything by closing his eyes and simply breathing.  

It was frustrating.  

It was also frustrating to spend the rest of his free golden days cooped up in the hospital with no one to talk to other than an icy Daphne. Although Draco would never care to admit it but Daphne’s company was well welcomed when she wasn’t in a bad mood.  

At least Aster had been a warm faithful companion, never leaving his side. Draco was tempted to ask Snape if he could take Aster to his manor for the summer. He had an inkling that he’d probably need a pal for the incredibly dull summer holiday he expects to have.  

It was already dull in the Hospital Wing. Most of the students afflicted with Kneazle Pox had already recovered and discharged. Luna was let go a day before Hermione had been and recently it had been very quiet between Harry and Draco. 

On Draco’s last days at the Hospital Wing, he was finally allowed visitors for a full twenty minutes. There was a lot of shouting outside of the Wing when news broke out about visitation hours, one voice in particular that sent chills down his spine.  

Millie. She was fighting who knows for a visitor’s spot.  

Draco winced when Madam Pomfrey turned everyone away for lack of decency, immediately taking away the privilege.  

Millie shrieked, her voice echoing into the Wing. 

Hermione, who had been at Harry’s side, twisted around in her stool glancing at Draco for a second. Her mouth parted, shocked that Draco had his eyes trained on her and she quickly wheeled around to focus back on Harry who found the incident amusing.    

Draco overheard them speaking, Harry, Hermione and Daphne, as he lightly rested, grateful that Madam Pomfrey allowed him one more day of no visitors. The patron of the school's health winked at him when she passed him walking back to her office. 

“His mum might murder both Ron and Ginny if they step out of line one more time,” Hermione dryly joked, “But give Mrs. Weasley some time, Daphne. I’m sure once the shock wears off, you’ll be able to visit.” 

Harry lightly snorted but agreed, letting Daphne in that Mrs. Weasley was just overly protective. Daphne smiled genuinely for the first time in a week. It seemed like the stress was finally wearing off Daphne after finally hearing from Ron. She had a letter clutched in her hand and tears rimming her eyes. 

Madam Pomfrey had just reached towards Harry’s end of the Wing and gave a long appreciative look at the three who were able to remain orderly in her domain. She stopped dead in her tracks, her analytical eyes trained on Hermione who threw her head back in laughter at something Harry had said. 

“I don’t know what to tell you Ms. Granger,” Madam Pomfrey huffed, stomping over. Her hand reached for Hermione’s face to cock her chin up for a better view of her neck, “Those are some nasty love bites. If it was a rash then my concoctions would be sufficient to clear it up. I can take the pain of it away but the marks were quite deep... may I give you a pamphlet of sexual health and magical hormones?” 

Hermione sputtered, flushing into a shade of red Draco had never seen. Harry laughed for the first time since this Godfather’s death. Really laughed. 

Draco felt a plunge of a knife in his heart, squeezing his eyes shut pretending to be asleep.  

Hermione looked over her shoulder in the direction of Draco and hoped he hadn’t heard any of that. It would have been twice as painful than it would have if he had heard. 

Harry raised his hand, smiling, “I’ll take one. I think Ron would really find this educational. Can you owl this to him for me, ‘Mione?” 

Daphne gasped, “Oh you! POTTER!” 

Hermione now erupted into a laugh as Daphne lurched forward to gently hit Harry with hand towels, scolding him for being cheeky. It was the first time in a while that Daphne let out a sheepish laugh. 

Draco laid on his side, wondering who on earth Hermione decided to move on with. He clenched his jaw bracing for the waves of pain that came with another disappointment. He refused to let him mind wander about.  

He had been allowed to move on from Hermione, right? Hermione can move on from Krum and it didn’t have to be him.  

But, Merlin, did he desperately wish it was him.  

-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 

The next day, on Draco’s final full day in the Hospital wing, he made himself useful giving Aster walks pacing back and forth down the length of the Wing. Draco felt nearly back to health if it wasn’t for Snape’s lessons last night.  

Otherwise, Draco felt as good as he can be. He had a rather nasty scar on his shoulder he thought would make a cool story, that is, if he could remember it. Otherwise, he felt fine.

He was able to hang about Harry’s bed, looking over a few a textbooks that Hermione left him about memory. Harry crinkled his nose at the stack of four books but Draco didn’t mind flipping through the pages to help Harry.  

That way Hermione wouldn’t feel like she wasted so much time in trying to find books for Harry to read.  

“I know I have the time,” Harry sighed, sitting crossed legged on his bed, “But after hours at St. Mungos, I don’t really have the energy to even think about anything really.” 

Harry made a face.  

Draco shrugged, “Well it would be useful for the rest of us.” 

He took the second book and looked at the index, seeing bits of paper that Hermione left noting that particular pages she found interesting for Harry to read. Draco felt a bittersweet smile play upon his lips. 

“You’ve been going to St. Mungo’s for about two weeks now.” Draco started.  

“Ten days,” Harry clarified.  

“Anything?” Draco raised his brows up in curiosity. Harry twisted his mouth, contemplating.  

“Yes,” He sighed. Draco nearly jumped to hang on to Harry’s every word.  

“But it feels odd.” He let out a long sigh, “Not quite like a dream but more solidified and strange... like a strong train of thought that can't be molded.” 

Draco blinked. 

Harry moved uncomfortably in his bed and gave Draco a long look.  

“I was wrong.” Harry said in nearly a whisper, “I dragged everyone along with the belief that Sirius was in trouble but he wasn’t there.” 

Draco let out a scoff.  

“Didn’t he die there?” 

Harry closed his eyes painfully but nodded, “I mean yes, he was there. But he only showed up when the Order caught wind of our doings. Voldemort never had him. He lured me in for the Prophecy.” 

Draco perked up.  

“Did my dad...” He trailed off.  

“He wasn’t successful,” Harry added, “And no, he didn’t recognize you.” 

Draco shrugged, “I’m glad we all made it out.” 

Harry chewed on his lip, “You have no idea how bad it was. You stood by me, by us, when it mattered.” 

Draco gave him a small smile, appreciating Harry’s acknowledgement, “Don’t need to go soft on me Potter, a simple thanks will do.” 

Harry watched his former foe spiral into thought and grinned widely, “Well, I mean, I’m well aware that it was more for Hermione, I still admire that you didn’t hesitate to volunteer even before we left.” 

Draco chuckled.  

“Any stories of me fighting valiantly beside you?” Draco joked and it cause the biggest grin on Harry face to grow.  

“As a matter of fact,” He began, “I wouldn’t know.” 

“I thought you remembered?” Draco questioned.  

Harry smirked, “You and Hermione ran off for a good portion of my recollection.” 

Draco wanted to ask what he meant by that but the slamming of the double doors of the Hospital Wing caught their attention.  

Crabbe and Goyle came marching in proudly waving their OWLs scores results. They first glanced at his empty bed and then found Draco standing up from Harry’s area to greet them half ways. A moment later, Hermione slipped in, giving Draco and his friends a polite smile as she rounded them to reach Harry, his own envelope with his results ready for him to open. 

Crabbe gave him a long hug, patting him roughly to congratulate him. It was the first time they’d seen him in nearly two weeks. 

“Mate,” Crabbe scoffed, “You look near death. But at least your walking” 

“Hermione said you slept most of the time,” Goyle shrugged, handing him his own results, “Sure looks like it. You look even paler than before.” 

Draco rolled his eyes, his hands smoothing over the flap of the envelop. The three of them reached Draco’s bed and sat down, mindlessly chatting about new things here and there. 

“How did you both do?” Draco asked suddenly. Both of his hands clasped to the envelop, as if he just became aware that his future was in his hands. 

Crabbe took out a carrot from his pocket and cracked it in half with his mouth, munching on it thoughtfully.  

Draco flickered for a second over to Hermione. She rounded over to Harry’s other side to read over Harry's shoulder, taking her seat next to Harry and counted down to rip open their results together.

Draco paid close attention to the way her skirt flounced around her upper thighs. 

“Sucked at Divinations,” Crabbe announced, “And I did pretty dreadful in Care of Magical Creatures but not so bad with the rest. I think I gave McGonagall a heart attack getting an Acceptable in Transfig.” 

Goyle snorted, “I got Exceeds Expectation thanks to Hermione!” 

Goyle waved at Hermione who was handing Harry his results. Hermione waved tentatively back, glancing over to Draco carefully.

Draco shrugged and tore his open as well. A folded bit of parchment fell out and Draco simply had to glance at it to know he had done more than enough.  

Crabbe looked over his shoulder and snorted. 

“To Mr. Draco Malfoy, we hereby present you your OWLs examination results carefully and thoroughly marked by your professors this year. Your results are as followed.” Crabbe said in a presenter voice, “Charms, Outstanding . Transfig, Outstanding . Ohhh look here, Goyle. Herbology?” 

“I believe it says Outstanding ?” Goyle joined in on the joke, “Can’t be. Oh but look at Divinations! Exceeds Expectation s! How will you be able to look your father in the eye with those kinds of marks, Draco. Despicable results for the House of Malfoy.” 

“Womp womp,” Crabbe sighed, “Draco would have gotten all O’s if it wasn’t for Divinations. What does this mean? Is it even possible to be accepted into your advance courses with those rubbish results? What a nail bitter!” 

“Short answer,” Goyle jumped in, “Please.” 

“Yes,” Draco nodded slowly, glancing down at the bottom of his letter, ignoring the teasing from his friends. 

We are pleased to inform you, you have been accepted to continue advance courses for the following classes:
Potions, Herbology, Ancient Runes, Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy,
Divination, History of Magic, and Care of Magical Creatures.   

Please write down four advance courses (if applicable) you wish to take next year on the following parchment.
Please turn it in to the head of your house before the school year ends. Please keep in mind the courses that
will aid you in your preferred career path of Unspeakable .  

A rare smile pulled on once side of Draco lip, relishing in the fact that he out did himself this year. Surely there’s no way his own father could be upset if Draco is allowed to choose any advance courses that he pleases.  

Crabbe continued to gnaw on his carrot. 

“By the way,” Goyle hummed out, “Any word when you’ll be released?” 

Draco cleared his throat, “Um, Tomorrow morning. I reckon it’s because I need the time to pack.” 

“You’ve been here for ages!” Crabbe moaned, “The other blokes that got Kneazles came and went already and you’re still here! Can’t you sneak out?” 

Draco sighed, “Snape’s been paying me nightly visits so, no, not really.” 

“For what?” Goyle asked.  

“Legilimency,” Draco scowled, “He reckons I need it because...” 

The realization struck Draco that his friends didn’t know about the night at the Ministry. It was widely accepted as fact that Draco ran out of Slytherin and ran straight to the Hospital Wing where he’s been ever since.  

Crabbe and Goyle didn’t question the small fading cuts on Draco’s face because it blended in well with the fading marks of the Kneazle bumps. Even the scars in the back of his legs were healing properly. His shoulder on the other hand, well, he wasn’t planning on going shirtless any time soon.  

“Because,” Draco cleared his throat, “He thinks it best I get a refresher before the summer holidays. It’s been a while anyways.” 

Crabbed straightened up, “Oh, is he helping you with that mind reading thing you do?” 

“Sort of, as a warm up but,” Draco sighed, “I’m not like Professor Snape. He has an intrinsic flare for it.” 

“I missed having your lessons,” Crabbe added, “How about next year you teach a few DA classes?” 

“What’s the point continuing the DA,” Draco said with a tint of amusement on his face, “Umbridge was sacked.” 

Crabbe and Goyle roared in laughter, being the culprits that brought her down once a full fledge investigation began. Crabbe and Goyle tearfully witnessed and testified Umbridge attempting to perform a Cruciatus Curse on a student and their memories were extracted for the Ministry’s School Board to see. 

Parents were not at all happy.  

“Yeah, but,” Goyle shrugged, “You-know-who is out there. It’s even in the Daily Prophet.” 

Draco sighed, “Yeah, I'm aware.” 

“Well, mate,” Crabbe groaned as he rose to his feet, stretching his not-so-pudgy body, “Hopefully you’ll find an ounce of defiance in your body, bunch of fifth years are gonna go down and celebrate the end of the year at Hogsmeade, if you wanna come along. I doubt Pomfrey will have enough time to lecture you if she catches you sneaking in after a wild night.” 

Crabbe and Goyle shared a mischievous chuckle.  

Draco smiled, “I won’t promise anything but I’ll see if I can even sneak out.” 

With that Crabbe and Goyle were gone, leaving Draco to place his outstanding scores next to his bedside table so he could roll over and sleep.  

Draco was right in not handing out promises he couldn’t keep. Draco sensed that the dreams he was having were much sweeter than anything he could find at a drunken night filled with rambunctious fifth years students. 

He felt the day grow into night and still he slept, smiling peacefully at soft skin and tight legs wrapped around his waist. 

There was a dip at the end of Draco’s bed that shot him straight up, his chest heaving from the sudden interruption of a rather salacious dream. Her head appeared floating but then the slip of the invisibility cloak pooled around her as she sheepishly smiled.  

Hermione was at the foot of his bed, half way placing her full weight on his bed looking like a dream herself. Her curls cascaded down over her bare shoulders, over her think silk nightgown hidden by the ugliest night robe Draco had ever seen. He held a vitriol against it only because it hid what looked like a ravishing clingy fabric. Her face glowed even in the dark and the tilt of her head, Merlin's.

Draco cleared his throat, forcing his mind to not send any blood flow down south.

“Hermione,” Draco gasped out, squinting around at the darkness of the Hospital Wing. The windows showed the darkness of a new moon night. The stillness of the castle told of its late hour and Draco being awoken at this ungodly time of the night. It was way pass curfew. He yawned loudly as Hermione bit on her lip, contemplating on what to say.  

“How did your OWLs go?” She asked, lifting her eyes at him only to tear them away in favor of staring at anything but him.  

Draco let out another yawn, “How did you even sneak...” 

Draco rolled his eyes as if he was annoyed with his slow connections.  

“That damn cloak,” He groaned out, “Did you honestly sneak in just to ask me about my OWLs?” 

“If I did?” Hermione asked, defiantly. Draco cracked a smirk, it was very much like her to care about scores and comparing. “I was actually here speaking to Harry about the books. He was quite insightful about some ideas he had.” 

Draco smirked, wondering if Harry had read the notes he left in one of the books he managed to get through that morning.  

Draco squinted at the clock on the wall and shook his head, “You snuck in at three in the morning just to chat with Harry?” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “No, I was here at a respectable time... after Madam Pomfrey calls it a night.” 

“So.... ten,” Draco began to count on his fingers, “What on earth did Harry say that warranted a five-hour conversation?” 

Hermione frowned, ignoring his question, “So how did you do on your OWLs?” 

 “It was... not bad.” Draco was with a halfhearted shrug, but didn’t miss that clever way she steered the conversation away. He’ll let her have this small victory. He’d bring it up again. 

Hermione snorted.  

“It sounded better than not bad,” She chewed on her bottom lip, “Congratulations.” 

“Thank you,” Draco said stiffly, now wiggling under his covers to release a bit of tension in his muscles. He had, after all, slept a solid twelve hours now, “And you? How did you do?” 

“Um, decent,” Hermione shrugged. It was hard to tell if she was down playing her achievements or there was a particular score that was bugging her, “I’ll get into all my advance classes so, yeah, decent enough.” 

Hermione licked her lips.  

“Listen,” She began, “I wanted to talk to you about the night at the Ministry.” 

“It’s been bothering you too,” Draco perked up slightly, “Do you remember anything?” 

Hermione frowned, “No, not really. I’ve been reading up on memory charms but it’s hard when I don’t know what exact spells they used to protect the Department. I’ve been working backwards based on what they’ve been treating Harry with.” 

“I see.” 

“You’ve been curious too, I assume,” Hermione picked at her nails out as a nervous habit.  

“Well yes,” Draco shrugged, “Part of Legilimency and Occlumency is knowing your own memories. I’ve gotten to be quite good at pulling up days and remembering them to a tea. Maybe that’s how I ended up with decent scores on my OWLs.” 

Hermione pouted and it made Draco laugh, even if he didn’t want to. He still felt unjustifiably left in the dark with her schemes and with no explanation. The most reasonable thing he could do was hold a bit of a grudge. Although, it was proving hard to do so when Hermione had shown up at the foot of his bed, in the middle of the night, looking like a siren. Draco clenched his jaw. 

“When chunk of my memories isn’t there within my reach, it bothers me.” Draco nodded, trying hard to not stare too hard at Hermione’s nightgown. 

Hermione shifted her weight around, excited that Draco brought up the point she wanted to ask, “Even with Snape poking around in your head-” 

He shook his head, “No, not even Snape can find it.” 

Hermione deflated. 

“Why?” Draco asked.  

Hermione hesitated wanting to share with Draco the odd feeling that something happened between them, but was terribly ashamed to even think about it. How would she even bring it up? 

‘Hey, look here? See those marks on my neck? Do you think you might have done this to me?”  

She sighed resorting to her original plan: being vague, “I have a feeling something happened, something significant. Maybe it has to do with Harry or the battle that we clearly had in there.” 

“My father was there,” Draco pointed out, “Harry confirmed.” 

“Yes, Ron wrote to Daphne. He happened to be one of the first one’s out. Tonks hid them under the desks of the Departments. Ron spotted your father running out.” Hermione narrowed her eyes as if she was frustrated with herself, “Do you think he managed to bypass the memory barrier?” 

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Dumbledore made it seem like they figured it out. It’s not hard to guess what happen. I’ve always known my father’s intentions. He’s been planning on his for a while, if he was fleeing then there’s no way he had been successful. Even Harry believes it, although, he doesn't seem keen on the memories he's retriving.” 

“Right,” Hermione nodded, “You’re probably right...” 

Draco watched her side profile carefully.  

A sly grin spread over his lazy face.  

“Are you suggesting I look into my father?” Draco feigned surprise, “That perhaps he figured out how to bypass the wards and somehow it will aid in your pursuits to restore our memories?” 

Hermione’s face blanched and her mouth parted.  

“I didn’t even think of tha-” She gasped, “Do you think it would be possible? That you father knows, I mean?” 

Draco let out a hearty laugh. It nearly took most of his energy when the laugh escaped him but he couldn’t help how off-guard Hermione had been. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t considered that option at all.  

“I’m guessing that you’re not finding much in the library on your search,” Draco let out a yawn.  

“You know?” 

Draco cocked his head in a taunting manner, “You know we all sleep in one big room, ‘Mione and your voice isn’t exactly quiet.” 

Hermione flushed.  

“Also, I’ve been reading some of the books you left Harry,” Draco admitted, “Which brings me back to you staying here for nearly five hours speaking to Harry. How riveting could that conversation be?” 

“We didn’t speak that long,” Hermione inwardly groaned.  

“Then, what?” Draco knitted his brows in confusion, “You hung around under that invisibility cloak waiting for me to wake up?” 

Hermione cleared her throat and moved the conversation along, “I divided the book work between Harry and I in hopes that he could find something of worth. I know it’s only the first rounds of research but I didn’t find much on my half of the work. Luckily, the library catalogs list a few books I’d really like to get my hands on but...” 

Draco smirked. Clever witch, he thought. 

“But what?” He asked, allowing her to get away with changing the conversation, yet again. 

Hermione sighed, “Well, the school year is over, isn’t it? There is no time to go through all the books, that is, if I even find them. And to top it all off, we should be packing tomorrow.” 

“Steal them, then,” Draco plainly suggested.  

“Stop it,” Hermione gasped, “I could nev-” 

“It’s not even that hard!” Draco shrugged, “Madam Pince knows that even the most well meaning student can take a book by accident. All the books are enchanted. After a week the book pops back into the library if it wasn’t checked out properly. I thought you knew. It’s in-” 

“Hogwarts, A History,” Hermione frowned, still undecided about that option to take. They fell into a comfortable but tired silence. Hermione wanted to yawn but feared that Draco would prompt her to go and rest. She busied herself by petting Aster, who was more than happy he was getting pets. 

“You didn’t go to Hogsmeade,” Hermione pointed out, “Didn’t Crabbe and Goyle come by?” 

Draco smirked, “Well you were here hiding under the cloak in the shadows, weren’t you? You should know more than me? Did they show?” 

Hermione turned a fierce red and her jaw firmed up. 

“I was not just waiting around!” Hermione snapped, “I took one of the beds to rest on! I accidently fell asleep! I didn’t mean to!” 

Draco beamed, “You don’t have to lie to me, Granger.” 

Hermione slapped his leg playfully and gave him a stern look. Draco laughed.  

“I doubt Madam Pomfrey was going to let me out of her sight after all the trouble I caused this year. Besides, I think we both know parties are the last thing I should be going to.” Draco cocked a menacing brow at her. 

It felt like a gut punch to Hermione. She let out a playful scoff and nervously rubbed her neck, where the love bites were now faded. Draco’s eyes ghosted over the area, reminded of the fact that someone had been where he wished he was.  

Jealousy wasn’t a good enough word to describe how he felt. Thinking of someone else tasting her skin, her head thrown back with her mouth parted in ecstasy, sent a special kind of fire through his veins. 

“Yeah, definitely,” She agreed, “You should swear them off next year.” 

He plainly agreed, “Yes, I probably should.” 

Hermione played with Aster’s floppy ear, absentmindedly staring at his nightstand table. The dog let out a long huff, content with the attention but too tired to reciprocate with a lick or two. 

The tense moment suspended in the air waiting for it to crash down revealing truths each of them was clutching close to their chest. Draco didn’t want to talk about it but he knew it had to happen, otherwise, why else would Hermione wake him up in the middle of the night.  

“Hard to restart a conversation, isn’t it?” Draco asked. Hermione’s face hardened as she nodded.  

“I feel sort of stupid, bringing it up again,” She voiced out earnestly, “But, I don’t know, I feel like I need to say my peace. I really didn’t mean for you to find out about Millie in such a manner. I understand why you’re angry. A lot of things could have been easily fixed if I had been direct or... honest. But it was hard.” 

Draco blinked, trying to listen when his insides twisted uncomfortably.  

“And just like you were respectful with my relationship with Viktor,” Hermione gulped, feeling herself pine over Draco in tormented silence, “I thought it was also best to not interfere with yours despite my-” 

Hermione’s pinched her mouth shut.  

There was a lot she wish she could say, like how much she disliked Millie or how her heart flopped around when he looked at her. She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. She had attempted, yes, although she wasn’t as grand with her gestures but she thought Draco would be clever enough to pick up on them.  

She had kiss him after all, right before their OWLs.  

Hermione thought that would be obvious enough.  

And when she gifted him the eye drops, surely, he would have caught on what she was thinking about. 

Hermione felt like less of a Gryffindor with the matters of love, hopelessly standing idly by waiting wondering if Draco would be braver than her.  

History would tell that after standing by her friend, in the face of danger, fighting off threats like giant snakes and werewolves, the ominous return of Voldemort, Hermione was perhaps the most fearless witch of her year.  

But, one look at Draco and her confidence took a hit, surrendering to her fear of his rejection. Her bravery ran away the second she locked eyes with him and it was utterly annoying going through the motions of such debilitating feelings. 

The discovery of Draco’s secret slapped her into a reality that she never thought about and forced her to see him in a different light. However, it was hard to know if she was pining for him now simply because she figured him out... wrapped in his firm arms in the French countryside. His kiss igniting a blazing roar of fire that burned inside her now.  

It would cause her to question everything. Would she still be oblivious to her own feelings if he hadn’t kissed her? 

Hermione sighed.  

She’d probably spend another year faithfully believing the lie she convinced herself that they were simply friends. 

Her recent attempts weren’t brave at all. It was like knowing the hands of her opponent while she kept her cards closely to her chest.  

Her chest... She hand to keep her hand from touching her collar bone, stopping herself from imagining the gentle graze of his teeth on her soft skin. Had his mouth traveled down lower? Her skin rippled at the thought.  

Hermione knew deep inside he was to blame for these marks, but it killed her to have no recollection of it, to savor it. 

Draco sighed, “Right, I’ll have to talk to Millie. Give her the opportunity to explain herself. It’s only fair, isn’t it?” 

Hermione tried to give him an encouraging smile but it felt like she was grinding her teeth in her attempts to be supportive 

“Yeah,” She shook her head, “Of course, you should.” 

The more time went on the more Hermione felt foolish waiting for Draco to say something about his love for her. She wanted to hear him say it so she didn’t have to feel conflicted being the catalyst of snatching Draco away from Millie.  

Hermione let in a soft long inhale before sighing out. She had failed. Maybe some other time she’d bring it up when she had more concrete evidence.  

“You should rest,” Hermione softly added. She rose to her feet, jumping into her slippers and grabbing the cloak. She had just taken two steps towards the door when the sweetest of voices called her back. 

“Hermione?” 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

The early afternoon sun was poking its rays through the foliage on the opposite side of their platform.  

The Hogwarts Express was steaming and ready as it rested while trunk after trunk was hauled in the luggage comparts underneath the carriages.  

Millie nuzzled herself into Draco’s shoulder, grasping him tightly by his elbow, waiting for the green light to board onto the train. The joy of ending another year at Hogwarts was palpable but also strained with the news of Voldemort’s return.  

It was a rather tense atmosphere as most students were usually in high spirits but still sad about leaving their friends. This time around it felt like most of them were eager to get home, back to a sense of normalcy.  

Millie one the other hand was trying to make up for a two-week loss by clinging on to him ever since Draco was discharged yesterday morning. Millie unfortunately helped him pack, throwing away scraps of parchments and notices he had received throughout the year. A muscle ticked in his jaw when Millie promptly crumbled up Umbridge’s List and tossed away the only photo of Hermione he loved.  

“What’s this?” Millie asked, lifting his Walkman up, her finger balancing the headphones.  

Draco had snatched it away from her.  

“I’ve told you,” Draco grumbled out, “I don’t need help.” 

Millie sat herself on his bed, watching Draco work around her and when he was finally done, Millie made sure they had enough time to cuddle. Draco laid there, his forearm on his forehead contemplating how to bring up the conversation.  

He couldn’t bring himself to do it.  

At least not that day. When he woke up that morning, he had it on his mind that it was his priority to do so. He refused to enter his summer feeling completely confused.  

Draco’s fist clenched around a piece of ripped parchment in his pocket, as a reminded of what he should do. He didn’t want to spend hours with Millie on this train ride pretending it was all fine. Not after everything he figured out.  

“You’ve got the worst luck!” Millie huffed, “And to top it off, Madam Pomfrey nearly had you sedated for the majority of your stay at the Hospital Wing!” 

Draco gave her a mouth shrug, “It was a bad case of Pox.” 

“Apparently!” Millie pouted, “Cormac, Nott, and Boot all had it. And they all recovered before you.” 

“I know,” Draco muttered, watching the shiny steam engine train slowly open it’s doors for students to begin boarding. The steam billowed up in the air as the crew finished off the majority of loading trunks. 

As Millie dove into her terrible week of not having him around at all and how she was so worried about him, Draco couldn’t help but to drown her voice out.  

Millie pulled him along, queueing up to board.  

In the midst of her chatter, as if time slowed down, Hermione happened to walk by him, chatting light heartedly with Daphne and Harry as they choose a train cart further down from the one he was boarding. 

Draco kept his eyes on her until she looked. Hermione’s head snapped forward, running her hands through the mess of her hair. Draco brow quirked up, reminded of that hair in her night robes.

Millie scoffed, “Draco?” 

“Let’s find a seat,” He cut in, sensing her annoyance that she caught him staring.  

Draco shouldered Millie off and stepped into the cart, finding the first empty compartment to claim. Millie followed behind, now fully complaining about Hermione.  

“It’s really incredible that you can’t just cut her off!” Millie whined, crossing her arms as they settled down. It took a considerable amount of control to stop himself from slamming the compartment doors shut, “Don't think that I suddenly forgot her raging crush on you. You know she’s jealous of me, right?” 

Draco closed his eyes, a smile of disbelief threatened to make him laugh out loud. He wheeled around watching Millie like prey, analyzing her stiff angry body language. Millie had been staring out the window to glared at the trio as they help load their belongings on the train.  

“Is she?” Draco said, playing along, “Hermione doesn’t seem like the type.” 

Millie rolled her eyes, “Well she is!” 

It was awkward. Millie could tell he wasn’t buying her lies and Draco could tell Millie was aware he didn’t find her convincing at all.  

Millie doubled down.  

She had been wringing her wrist out of habit ever since Draco had gifted her bracelet and then a lightbulb went off as a haphazard lie began to spill out of her mouth. 

“You know she almost stole my bracelet,” Millie pointed her nose in the air, “She knew it changed colors and you know what she did?” 

Draco blinked incredulously, “What?” 

“She figured out how to charm it so that it would turn blue, just to get under my skin,” Millie glared at him for not believing her, “And I had been so kind to let her wear it, because my other friends wanted to try it on, I let her as well. She changed it to blue when it was on her just to rub it in my face, Draco.” 

Draco could feel his face glower as he watched her create a fantasy only she could believe.  

“And then she tried to take it from me!” Millie scowled, “I seriously have no clue why you even spoke to her this year. Barely have anything in common.” 

“Because I like her,” Draco simply said. Millie tore her sights from looking out the window and gave him a stunned look.  

“What did you did say?” Millie shot, her crossed arms tightening. 

Crabbe and Goyle slid their compartment door open about to joyfully tumble in but closed it right back seeing the tense situation. They rushed off, no doubt to go and spread this piece of juicy gossip around.  

“I like Hermione,” Draco said it again and the words felt so good to leave his lips, “She’s kind and funny. But I know you don’t care much for that so I’ll add to that. I’m not blind. I’m well aware she’s beautiful-” 

“Your fucking joking,” Millie glared.  

“I’m not,” Draco cleared his throat, “And I don’t need to.” 

Millie continued to glare. 

“I know what happened on that night,” Draco licked his lips, “Hermione didn’t do anything. You begged her to wear your bracelet and it turned blue without having to try, didn’t it.” 

She scoffed. Millie’s hands were now clutching the hem of her skirt in tight fist and her face was turning red. 

“And then you slapped her,” Draco’s amused voice was now empty, “Landing both of you in detention, right?” 

Draco’s thumb and pointer finger light rubbed the parchment in his pocket, soothing him. The contents of it's writing he held as preciously as gold. 

“I’ll save you the pathetic attempts of lies you’ll come up with,” Draco gulped, “I know what you did. I have it on good authority from Cho Chang who witnessed it all, along with all the other prefects that patrol.” 

Millie scoffed weakly, her face now burning in shame. Draco didn’t feel like letting up on her. 

“I have listened to you all year, complaining, not understand how other people couldn’t follow rules- yet you break a massive one in front of your own peers. Or how you’ve prided yourself in never being in detention, and yet, you should have served detention. Cooped up with the very person you despise.” 

Something about the truth, struck an uncomfortable chord in Millie, she forced herself to stare out the window again, the platform now nearly empty and the train ready to depart.  

“I know what deal you made with Umbridge,” Draco finished off, “And the fact that you’d coerced Marietta, a friend of yours, to sell my friends out for the simple trade of avoiding detention? For what? Have a spotless record? Punish Hermione twice?” 

Millie’s mouth fell open. Her instinct to talk her way out of it was paralyzed by the facts that were spilling out of Draco, who sat calmly across from her, his hands collapse on his lap, his legs slightly spread open. He didn’t dare to take his eyes off her now.  

Not when he was getting under her skin. He could visibly see her chest rising up and down, trying to calm herself.  

There was something about her chest that spark a rather violating idea in his head as her panic grew. Draco, without thinking, did something he never intended to do to another. He studied the rise and fall of her breast and then once his own breathing was in sync, he exhaled and he was pulled into her mind.  

His legitimacy wasn’t well practiced nor good, but he saw it. It was hazy and narrowed but he saw Hermione in Millie’s head and her admiring her own wrist.  

The bracelet was glowing a beautiful deep blue color and then Millie’s hand rose to swipe down, hard against Hermione’s cheek.  

Draco pulled out, disgusted with Millie. Millie blinked hard, confused as to what just happened, her eyes wide as Draco fixed the collar of his well pressed button-down shirt.  

He rose to his feet, grabbing his bag and giving Millie a long pointed look.  

Millie was in near tears, “You know your friends deserved it! They were conspiring against Umbridge and the Ministry. You out of all people should know! Your father works for... what will he say if he ever discovered that you and them- That you fancy a muggleborn!" 

Draco gave her a grave look, “You say a single word about my life to anyone, Millie, especially to my father, I’ll be honored to be the one conspiring to ruin your life.” 

Millie who was mid-stand, sank back down. Her face crumbled. 

“I’ll be relentless, I’ll promise you that,” Draco continued. Draco popped his neck from the tension that had been building up. He finally stood up and reached over to the doors. He was about to charge out of there but he stopped, to look over at Millie who’s world was now in complete disarray.  

“And I’m sure you’d already figured it out,” Draco cryptically said, “The bracelet. It is exactly what you think it means.” 

He paused, feeling slightly guilty when Millie’s face twisted.  

“I’d appreciate if you can owl that bracelet back to me,” Draco suggested, “Or keep it, I don’t care. Whatever makes you feel less pathetic.” 

Millie’s watery eyes flickered up to him. That tinge of guilt returned knowing that he was not completely innocent in this relationship either, but he also didn’t sell out other people, his friends, just to get out of detention.  

“And if it isn’t obvious,” Draco rolled his eyes, “It’s over.”