A Question for a Question

SUMMARY: Harry didn't find Hermione after she saw Ron and Lavender snogging. Somebody else did. Set during the Half-Blood Prince

CONTAINS: a little swearing and alcohol.

DISCLAIMER: If I was JK Rowling I wouldn't be here.

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Hermione couldn't believe it. Ron and Lavender. Together. Snogging. In the COMMON ROOM! For Christ's sake, could that little bitch be a bigger slut? No I guess not. After seeing them at it, she had run from the room. Not caring where she went. It didn't matter, only that it was away from them. She stumbled into the wall, her tears blurring her vision. Not to mention her anger. The sense of betrayal in her chest made her heart pound. She needed to hit something, break something. She needed to do something. Hermione stumbled down the stairs, eager to escape the confines of the castle. She didn't care that it was past curfew, and being caught would result in detention. She just wanted away from it all.

Pushing open the doors leading outside, Hermione felt the cool breeze blowing on her face. She thought back to her coat and scarf upstairs, but decided that the fresh air wouldn't do her any harm. She slipped out the gap she had created and walked down the stairs, not really caring if anybody saw her. The steady crunch of the grass was a comfort to her. It didn't take her long to reach the lake. The black stillness of the water brought back so many memories. Hagrid and Buckbeak, the Second Task, all the things that had happened here. All the things they had done together. She wondered if it would ever be the same, she didn't feel like it would be.

She sat under the beech tree, her second favourite spot to study after the Library. The grass was slightly wet with dew, but it didn't faze her. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and found her wand. Magic always comforted her. Whenever she was sad or felt like life was unfair, she would perform difficult spells. It reminded her, of her skills, and all that she could do.

She conjured up first a piece of paper, then another and another. They floated in the air before her. In her mind she envisioned small yellow birds, and so that is what the papers became. Her own little flock of birds. They twittered around her head, landing on her shoulders and the ground beside her. They were what alerted her to his presence.

Hermione turned to see what had caused the dramatic change in her flock. Seeing only darkness, she quickly lit her wand. Slowly, with her light source, she scanned her surroundings. She couldn't see anybody, but a sharp intake of breath, led her glazed orbs to find the red and puffy eyes of Draco Malfoy. His skin was paler than usual, if that was even possible. Tearstains were evident on his cheeks. He sported a shocked expression, similar to the one present on her features. They both looked as if they were at the end of their ropes. The last thing they wanted was to be discovered by their enemy.

Minutes passed and still neither of them dared to break the heavy silence that had fallen on them. Hermione's birds circled her head, and Draco hadn't moved an inch. The rustle of the leaves in the wind, was the only sound to be heard. Hermione looked out across the lake, Draco's gaze was trained on the stars above. Both were hoping the other would miraculously disappear and forget what they had seen.

Eventually Hermione let out a sigh, a sigh that bore the weight of the troubles that had occurred that day. She couldn't believe what was happening. It was too much, the last thing she wanted right now was a confrontation with Malfoy. She wondered briefly what had led him here, and in such a state, but like everything else that night, she found she cared little.

Draco was exhausted, both mentally and physically. He hadn't eaten in what felt like days. The stress and pressure from the task the Dark Lord had set him was finally breaking him. He knew in his heart he was going to fail, and he knew the repercussions of his failure. He'd tried everything, and none of it had worked. There was no way he could do this. There was no way he would win.

In times like these, Draco turned to drink, a trait he had picked up from his father. He pulled his hip flask from his pocket. He could feel her gaze upon him as he went to take a swig. She was judging him, as he knew she would. She opened her mouth and then closed it. Shook her head and then, much to the surprise of Draco, patted the spot on the grass next to her.

Draco, coming quickly to the decision that accepting Hermione's invitation was the safest thing to do, rested his back against the trunk of the beech tree. He held his flask up to his lips, and took another swig. He could feel the burn of the liquid as it travelled down his throat. He could never understand why adults drank alcohol, now he did, to forget. The slight brush of Hermione's hand against his arm almost caused Draco to have a heart attack. Draco's furrowed brow led Hermione to indicate towards his flask. He cleared his throat uncertainly.

"Errr… you do realise this isn't Butterbeer." Draco asked politely, but with definite traces of scepticism. Instead of telling her to fuck off, Draco, once again, chose the safer option. He had no desire to be clawed to death by those dangerous looking birds.

"I am aware of that. If it was, why would I want it?" Hermione too, was controlling her impulse to point her wand at Draco's temple and demand he hand over his flask of precious Firewhiskey.

Draco conceded her point, and reluctantly handed her his flask. She took a long swig, before sighing, shaking her head and handing it back to him. Her gaze was still focused on something far across the lake.

"Ergghhh... this is diluted," she said shaking her head in disappointment.

"Yeah," he agreed. "But my supply is almost empty." He took another sip and sighed.

"I take it isn't the first time, you've spent the night under this tree."

"No it isn't." He replied. "Usually though, I'm not joined by bushy-haired Gryffindor's." His curiosity was returning, and he was eager to learn of Hermione's reason for being here.

Hermione sighed. She knew he would ask. Who wouldn't? It wasn't everyday rule-abiding Hermione Granger decided a midnight curfew-breaking stroll by the Black Lake was in order. Anybody would be curious. Hermione held her hand out for the flask and took another swig.

"Same reason as you, I guess. To get away from it all."

"Pft," Draco scoffed. "And what would you have to get away from? Got an E on an assignment?" Draco shook his head, laughing internally at his joke.

"Yeah, of course that's what you would think. That I only care about school and grades and whatnot." Hermione turned away from him, seemingly disgusted with his presence.

"Okay, so not about grades. Hmmmm... I wonder what else could get goody-two-shoes Granger so flustered." Draco looked up, again, at the stars, perhaps they could help him. "Don't tell me, you and the Weasel had a domestic?"

Hermione turned further away from him, as if being on the other side of the trunk would make him disappear.

"Oh right, that wouldn't be possible... Seeing as you haven't actually told him that you love him." His tone was teasing, but you could tell he was enjoying himself, he'd missed this, the teasing, the taunts. It was an endless cycle, and he appreciated every round he won.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione responded. Immediately on the defensive.

"Even you have to admit, it's pretty obvious." Draco glanced at her before continuing. "You fight like an old married couple, constantly bickering, it's rather annoying. And if that isn't enough for you, explain the Yule Ball."

"What about it."

"Oh come on, you know what I'm talking about. It was kind of hard to miss. He was sulking for the entire night."

"Yeah, and?" Hermione wasn't giving him any answers, but sort of wanted to here what he was going to say.

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed. His body language said that he thought his statement was self-explanitory.

"Well, I thought he was rather jealous."

"Of what." Hermione really wanted to drag this out as long as possible, in the hope that he would give up and forget his reason for asking in the first place.

"Don't play dumb. Of a certain Seeker and their certain date. In saying that I'm not talking about Pot-head." Draco paused, he didn't want to give her the opportunity to respond and change the subject. "I take it that's what made you ball your eyes out at the end of the night. It wouldn't really have been a proper ball without some sort of conflict."

"I wasn't balling my eyes out," Hermione answered defensively.

"Look Granger, the Grand Staircase isn't really the best place for a private cry. But that's not what we were talking about, was it?" Draco stopped for effect. "Oh yes, we were talking about what brought you out into the cold on this bitter night."

"I'm not going to tell you Malfoy, why should I? You'd only use it against me." Hermione sounded fed up, as if she regretted ever stepping outside.

"Be that as it may, you did invite me to sit with you." Draco wouldn't stop pushing till he got an answer, he was a Malfoy after all.

"It was a sign that I wanted to drink, and I've had my drink, so I think I might be off." Hermione decided that she'd had enough fresh air for one night. She stood up, intending to take her leave.

"Hey, I gave you a drink, you could at least give me an answer."

"Fine, Ron and I fought. You happy?" Hermione really wanted to get out of hear, as quickly as possible.

"Not in the slightest. Give me a proper answer, I'd already figured out that much by myself." Draco had risen to his feet, he know stood a metre behind Hermione's back.

"Look, I appreciate the effort Malfoy, but if I wanted to talk, I would've gone to Harry."

"Ah, but you didn't, did you? You didn't want someone to just agree with you and give you a nice big brotherly hug, you wanted someone to understand."

"What?! And you thought that person was you? What could you ever understand about my life? I'm just a mudblood to you. A stupid girl who pretends she belongs in a world that would rather never see her face again."

Draco shook his head in disappointment. "Of course you would say that. Whenever there's a problem you just jump back to what you used to think of me. You're scared of change. Admit it."

"Oh and you've changed have you? Nice try, but I'll believe that when I see it."

Draco sat down again, breathing in the night air before replying. "Do you really think the 11 year old Malfoy would have sat with you? No, he wouldn't have. But if you still need proof, then I'll give it to you. I don't know why, so don't ask. Let's play a game, a question for a question. How does that sound?"

"Fine."

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AN This was originally just meant to be a one shot, but I didn't know where to end it. If there is any interest and I'm not too lazy, then I'll continue it.

Draco may seem a little OOC but he just wanted to talk to someone, and he has drunk some alcohol, remember he was crying, he's desperate for company but doesn't want to tell Hermione that.

Thanks, tell me what you think of it.