Chapter 2
Hermione was going to smack her best friend.
“Malfoy’s father is a Death Eater,” Harry insisted. “It just makes sense that he would be one too.”
Hermione snapped her book shut, the sudden sound making Ron, who was sitting next to her, jump.
“Harry, I love you,” Hermione said. “But your theory is bonkers. He’s 16! It makes no sense. What use could Voldemort have for a teenage boy still in school?”
“It’s obviously because Lucius got arrested.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes. She was hardly ever wrong. The fact that Harry was insinuating that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater simply because he had walked into a dark artifact shop offended her. Hermione knew it wasn’t necessarily a usual occurrence for purebloods to shop in Knockturn Alley, but it wasn’t unheard of either; it didn’t automatically make Malfoy’s actions suspicious. Basing a theory solely on one action—one where the only ‘proof’ visible was the few moments it took to enter a shop—was weak.
“I bet Voldemort’s ordered Malfoy to—”
Hermione groaned and stood. She couldn’t handle this anymore.
“Yes, well, while you continue to brainstorm why you have this preposterous notion that a teenager was recruited by one of the most powerful wizards in history, I am gong to go find the trolley and see if there are any sugar quills.” Hermione huffed and exited the compartment she shared with the boys.
“Can you get me a chocolate frog” Ron requested right as the door closed.
Hermione rolled her eyes but nodded at her other best friend. She shook her head in annoyance and went in search of the trolley of sweets.
It didn’t take long for her to find it. The trolley witch smiled at her, and she and Hermione exchanged greetings. Hermione was so deep in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the other person that had come up to the trolley until a hand touched hers, both having reached for the same piece of candy.
A gasp caught in Hermione’s throat as she felt something akin to an electric current zap through her. She looked up harshly. Draco Malfoy was staring at her in fascination, horror, and another emotion she couldn’t identify.
“Malfoy,” Hermione squeaked.
“Granger.” Malfoy cleared his throat. “My apologies. I didn’t realize you liked sugar quills.” He nodded to the last package of sugar quills. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly of me to take the last package when you were clearly here first.”
Hermione gaped at him. She had expected him to call her a ‘mudblood’ or to sneer at him like he had since first year. Instead, he apologized. Sure, the action he was apologizing for was small and inconsequential, but she never expected to hear those words come out of his mouth—didn’t know that was possible from someone like him.
“Um, it’s alright, Malfoy,” she said, unsure of what exactly was happening. “And yes, they are my favorite wizarding candy.” She was bating him, trying to see if he would catch on to her distinction between the muggle and magical world and insult her.
He chuckled. “It is a good choice. I commend you.”
Hermione’s eyebrows shot up. She looked him up and down, wondering if someone might be Polyjuiced as him for some reason.
She blinked a couple times and did a double take. He was taller, which was expected for a teenage boy having just returned from summer holidays, but he was also bulkier, especially around the chest, shoulders, and upper arms. It wasn’t overly bulky, but enough where Hermione could notice it under the black suit he wore.
Her gaze swept up his body and she blushed, finding that Malfoy had caught her checking him out. He stared at her for a few moments. Hermione could have sworn she saw the corner of his mouth twitch, but for what reason, she couldn’t imagine.
“Yeah, the blue ones are my favorite,” she said slowly, unsure of how to proceed. Shaking herself, she took the last package of sugar quills and paid the trolley witch.
She turned to go back to her compartment, but paused. After a moment, she turned back around. She opened the package of sugar quills and took one out. She caught Malfoy’s gaze. Awkwardly holding out the individually-packaged sugar quill, she offered it to Malfoy. Malfoy raised his eyebrows up in surprise.
“Go on, take it,” she said. “It’d be rude of me to not offer you one after you let me take the whole last package.”
Malfoy slowly reached his arm out. He hesitantly wrapped his fingers around the sugar quill, holding her gaze.
The trolley witch cleared her throat and smiled at them. “If that’ll be all dears, I should continue my rounds.”
Hermione looked at the witch. “Of course. Sorry for holding you up.”
Hermione made eye contact with Malfoy again.
“Granger.” He nodded once then turned back the way he’d come from.
Hermione made her way back to the compartment Harry and Ron were in. She sat down, looking out the window at the passing country side.
“Did you get a chocolate frog?” Ron asked.
Tearing her gaze away from the window, Hermione faced toward Ron. “No, sorry, I forgot. The trolley witch will probably be around shortly and you can get one yourself then.”
Ron looked disappointed, but nodded.
Hermione turned back to the window and sighed. She decided not to mention her interaction with Malfoy to Harry. Malfoy had acted weird during their short conversation, but she worried that if she brought it up to her best friends, Harry would take that information and run with it, trying to use it as more ‘evidence’ that he was a Death Eater.
No. She would keep that to herself.