A/N: This a story in response to a prompt from yellow 14, namely, to use my account name in a one-shot.

Keep in mind that I tried to treat Ron with some respect... or at least not bash him... but it's hard, from Malfoy's perspective. Besides, this particular part of the series is not very complimentary to the character, anyways... even in the books.

-o-o-o-

Disclaimer: It would be pretty silly of me to write fanfiction for something that I owned... don't you think? Well, whether you think it's silly or not, I'm not doing it.

This Bird, Too, Has Flown

Draco clenched his fists, held firmly at his side, as he climbed the stone stairway away from the dungeon. He tried to walk slowly, with dignity, pushing the enraged faces of his fellow Slytherins out of his mind. What did those idiots back in the Common Room know, anyways? It wasn't HIS fault that Harper was a great dolt...

After having lost the Quidditch game, to Gryffindor, no less, Draco's house mates were not happy with him.

"You were sick? Rot! You've been 'sick' far too often this year, you're faking, you lousy snob!"

"Yeah! You've been skipping practices, we all know it! Do you even remember what a snitch looks like anymore?"

"And Harper? Why did you pick HIM, of all people, for a replacement?"

The cutting words rang in his ears as he left the dungeons, stiffly emerging onto the main floor. He turned to another stairway, climbing up. He didn't care where he would find himself in the end, just as long as could go upward to get there. He passed the second floor. Higher and higher he pushed, trying to concentrate on rising himself up step after step, feeling his calves begin to ache as he pushed himself faster and faster, higher and higher...

Soon he was sprinting up the steps, passing the fourth floor, fifth, sixth... His face was hot, from shame and exertion. He had no idea where he was, but he had felt several stairways move while he dashed up them. He didn't really want to know, or even think to wonder, where he could be. He only climbed.

Finally, panting, he scrambled up the last few steps, coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of the seventh floor hallway. He saw across the hall a very familiar tapestry, a great ludicrous picture of balletic trolls. He felt a great ache in his stomach, knowing that, just a few feet to his right, lay a blank expanse of wall. Concealed behind was the Room of Hidden Things. He turned away sharply, feeling bile rise in his throat. He took a few steps down the stairs, but felt dizzy.

Afraid of falling, he returned to the seventh floor. Nervously, he wondered if he should go into the room again, should work more... He tried to get himself to turn around, but instead found himself rushing the other way, toward the east wing. He still felt ill, and looked around for a restroom, or at least an unlocked classroom where he could sit down.

A creaking noise shot through the hallway, causing Draco to stumble slightly. He came to a shaky stop, glancing around the hall, seeking out a newcomer. Seeing no one, he shrank back against the wall, not wishing to be noticed by anyone that might be there. He wasn't doing anything wrong, par se, but that year he had learned that it was better to go undetected. Those who got all the attention never accomplished anything.

Looking down at the very back of the hallway, he saw Potter emerge from the east wing, in all his Quidditch-won glory. He rolled his eyes.

"Hermione?" Harry called. Draco squinted, noting with some surprise that Potter seemed not jubilant, as Draco would have guessed, but worried. He cautiously walked to a nearby classroom and slipped inside.

What was up with Potter? And Granger? He found himself edging closer. He almost smiled, thinking, Potter and Granger, sneaking into an abandoned classroom after the game, guess they were bound to hook up sometime...

He made it to the edge of the east wing. He looked back to where Harry had come from, but saw only a dead end, with a large portrait of a rather of a rather unsightly lady in a pink gown. Odd... he thought.

With another creak, the portrait opened up, revealing a doorway, from which Weasley and some blond bird – Brown, or something – tripped out, laughing. The Gryffindor Common Room, he figured, noting with some resentment that there seemed to be a boisterous party going on within.

They tripped over to the classroom where Draco knew that Potter and Granger were, Weasley pulling Brown by the hand. "Oh!" Weasley cried, having opened the door and seen... whatever it was that Potter and Granger were doing inside.

"Oops!" Brown giggled, backing back into the hallway.

The classroom door closed, leaving a stiff silence behind it. Brown nervously fidgeted, waiting for Weasley to emerge. Draco rolled his eyes – she was a Gryffindor, for heaven's sake! Did she have a backbone? Regardless, he was interested, and he continued listening.

Finally, Granger opened the classroom door, drawn up tightly, a halo of yellow birds circling her head. Draco leaned forward slightly, trying to see her face...

Suddenly, she turned around, shrieking something, and the small birds shot away from her, into the room. Weasley's cries of surprise and pain echoed as Granger took off, running down the hallway. She sobbed as she ran past Draco, ducking into another small classroom.

Draco turned back to the east wing, where Weasley, now sporting a couple nasty scratches across his face, joined Brown. They pair slipped back toward the Common Room, Brown cooing over his injuries. Potter followed a few minuted after.

What did I just see? Draco wondered, looking from the east wing to the room where Granger now hid. It was obvious to him that his first guess at what Potter and Granger were doing was wrong... Granger seemed completely distraught, not at all romantic.

After a while, he stepped back into the middle of the floor, starting off toward the stairway. He paused involuntarily, listening, in front of Granger's classroom. He was unnerved to hear her still crying within. He tried to walk away, glaring at the floor in determination, but somehow couldn't make himself move. Instead, he found himself thinking... of a bathroom... crying... a comforting voice, telling him that it would all be okay...

He shook himself. He tried to never think about that, tried to keep it in the farthest corner of his mind.

Granger gave another bitter sob.

Hating himself, he walked up to the classroom, pushing the door open.

Granger sat at a desk near the front of the room. (Of course the front row, Draco thought half-heartedly.) She had ducked her head when the door opened, hiding her face. For a moment there was no sound whatsoever. Both students were frozen in a more than usually awkward, suspended moment.

This silence was soon broken by Hermione, who let out the breath she had been holding with a wet, shaking sob, before taking in a sharp gasp. "I-I – " she tried, hiccuping and coughing, trying to compose herself, "I n-need to be – to be alone, Harry..." She slumped forward over the desk, collapsing into another round of sobs.

Draco felt sick; he was intruding on something that he had no hope of understanding, that he shouldn't even wish to understand. Still, he couldn't stop himself from taking a hesitant step forward to place his hand on her shoulder. It was a simple gesture, one that he knew he had wished for at times, when his only company was a ghost, who had no touch to offer... no! He thought, narrowing his eyes, refusing to allow those memories back into his mind, instead focusing on Granger. Her breaths were beginning to even out, her cries dying down.

Finally, she croaked, "Th-thank you, Harry."

Draco stiffened. "I'm not – " he started uncomfortably.

Hermione shot up, wiping her wet face furiously, gasping, "Malfoy!" She looked up at him in shock and disgrace, which quickly melted into anger. "What do you think you're doing?" She hissed, standing up and backing away from him.

Draco wished to vanish, but knew that he should try to explain. "I heard you crying..." he started feebly, cursing his idiotic conscience.

"Oh, I see!" she shrieked, pulling out her wand. "And you wanted to give the offender a – a handshake, or a clap on the b-back?"

"No!" Malfoy shot back, glaring.

"Then what? Feeling s-sorry for the stupid mudblood? The one so annoying that even R-Ron..." she choked on her words.

Malfoy sighed, cursing himself for even even thinking to come in. "I wouldn't say 'stupid'," he finally said, looking away darkly. "Unless, of course you're talking about getting all worked up over Weasley."

"That's not your concern!" she spat, livid.

"No. So sorry," he said quietly, backing toward the door. "I only thought that I'd... oh, forget it!" He glared at the floor, reaching for the door handle...

"You only thought you'd what?" Hermione asked, trying to sound venomous, but instead sounding again on the verge of tears.

"I didn't like to hear you crying." Draco said quickly, face heating.

Hermione said nothing.

"Especially when you were crying for Weasley." he continued, "I mean, why? Is it – is it about that one girl... ah, Brown? The one that's always with that Patil girl?" She didn't respond, but he saw her face redden. "Well, they're both idiots! They'll be happy, eh? But I didn't think you were an idiot! You're a lot of things, Granger, but I don't think you're idiot."

"No," she gave a grim, rather watery chuckle. "I'm just an annoying know-it-all that no one really likes, who is always nagging, always bossing people around..." she sniffed, ducking her head.

"Well," Draco fidgeted nervously, fingering the door handle. "That may be true... but, ah, some people need to be bossed, you know, er, couldn't accomplish anything without it... I'd peg Weasley as one of those people, even if he's too dense to know it."

She sniffed.

"And I wouldn't say no one likes you." He said, not believing that he could be saying the words. "I mean, just look at all the professors."

She sat down at another desk, slumped over. "Yeah," she said softly. "at least the professors like me."

"And Potter. And even Weasel – ah, Weasley, and probably most of the Gryffindor house. I bet they all like you."

"They like me to do their homework for them." she sniffed, eyes narrowed. Her shoulders gave a violent shake, and her stern face crumpled. Tears leaked out of the corners of her puffy eyes.

Draco glanced at the door handle, his hand resting on top. Reluctantly, he let go, drifting toward her. He hesitantly put his hand back on her shaking shoulder. To his surprise, she moved, not to shake him off, but to sit up, throwing her arms about his neck. He tensed as she sobbed into his shoulder, nervously stroking her hair, not quite what he was supposed to do.

The moment was soon over, though, and Hermione drew back quickly, refusing to make eye contact with him. "S-sorry... so sor-sorry..." she hiccuped. "I – I don't know..."

"It's fine," Draco said, biting his lip. On a whim, he pulled out his wand and summoned a few sparrows out of the air, having them flit around the room. Granger lifted her head as they chirped, watching them.

"I've never been able to get them yellow," he said lightly. "I can do brown and red, or even blue on a good day... but not yellow."

Granger blanched, seeming to realize that Malfoy had seen her attack on Weasley. However, after a moment, she flicked her own wand, sending several yellow birds up to join his sparrows. "It's not too hard," she said quietly. "You just flourish the wand a bit at the end, and be exact with the timing of the words..." She gazed up at her birds, flying around the room merrily. With a sigh, she sat back in the desk, face blank.

They both watched the birds fly in silence, brilliant flashes of life in the dead stone room. Finally, Granger murmured, "They always make me feel a bit better... so happy, so light. They just fly above all of their problems."

Draco shook his head, eyes still glued to the brown and yellow birds. "No, they can't escape have their problems, I don't think... they just don't let anyone see them down, catch them hurting."

Granger gave a wet sniff. "That seems silly. They can't just gloss over pain and troubles... their just birds! It's silly, really... they're not..." she frowned, looking for words. "...highly emotional creatures."

"Maybe that's why they hide it, then. They can't show it, they don't know how."

"Maybe that's it."

They watched in silence as the birds fitted through the shadows, soft yellow and brown forms bright against the stone walls.

Finally Granger rose, walking toward the door. Draco looked after her, genuinely concerned. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm going back to the Common Room," she said. Her voice, though still a bit weak, had regained most of its composure. "They'll be worried soon, I think, and I should go. Besides, I'm feeling rather tired. I think I need rest. Some sleep." She looked down. "Well... thank you, Malfoy. You... you really helped."

"You're welcome," he said slowly, and he almost meant it. She gave a small smile before slipping out of the classroom.

Draco sat perfectly still for a moment, listening to the birds sing. Before too long, though, he pushed himself to his feet and walked to the door. I should get back to the Common Room, I bet they've all cooled down about the Quidditch game by now... Now feeling much better, he flicked his wand before leaving the room. Behind him, each of the birds vanished in a small puff of yellow or brown feathers.

ThisBirdTooHasFlown speaking: Wow, that feels odd to type after writing this story...

Does anyone know where my account name comes from? If you think you do know, drop a review! See if you're right!