AN: I had considered posting this today but dropped that idea when I was unexpectedly called into work this morning. Then tonight I got the nicest ask ever from herlovelypatronus on tumblr and thought updating would be a perfect thank you.
Fearless in the Dark
(2/3)
A hand on his shoulder woke him up. He figured it was Peech, come to bring him his breakfast. What must she think, finding him sitting, propped up against his gutted, slightly burnt bed? Not even a house-elf deserved that much of a shock so early in the morning.
"Good thing you're here," he muttered, wincing more at the stiffness of dried water tracks on his cheeks than how raw his throat felt. "Broke my clock. I'd never know the time if you weren't always so prompt."
"Malfoy."
Granger!
He jerked away, scrambled for a moment before her hands on his arms and his own inability to see a damned thing stopped him.
"I'm sorry," she said once he'd stilled. "I really am. I was just trying to make you angry enough to prove me wrong. … That's a lie. I was just angry with you and then later figured out a good excuse. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry." Her voice was watery and her hands were fisted tight in the fabric of his robes.
"Did I finally make you cry, Granger?" he asked, smiling.
"Shut up!" she snapped, tears (if there'd been any) gone instantly. "Do you have any idea how much damage you've done? This room is a disaster zone!"
"At least I can still make a mess properly," he muttered.
She grabbed his elbow and yanked him to his feet. "You are going to help me clean this place up!"
"The house-elves-"
"You made this mess! You are going to clean it!"
He rolled his eyes, going so far as to open them so she could see the action. She did, if her annoyed scoff was any indication.
"We'll start with the bed," she said and they turned. He was thankful she didn't tell him to or touch him so he'd know which way to face. He was blind, not stupid, after all. She did a quick spell to repair the fire damage and said, "A simple reparo should do the rest."
"Reparo works because you visualize how the thing is supposed to look and then you make it look like that again. I have never seen this bed."
"But you sleep in it," she pointed out. "You sit in it, you touch it and feel it. Don't visualize, remember how it feels."
"This is never gonna work," he muttered but said, "Reparo," all the same. Granger's pleased cry of joy covered up his gasp.
"See?" she said and he heard the mattress creak under her weight. "Good as new. I told you, you could- what?" She'd sprung up again and was standing much too close but he didn't bother being angry. Instead he lifted his wand before him and said a strangled, "Lumos."
"Malfoy, what are you doing?"
His face split into a wide grin. "I can see it," he said. A moment ago there had been nothing but darkness before his eyes, but now a bright light was before him, fading to a dull grey at the edges of what had once been his field of vision.
"See what?" she asked, her voice a quiet mix of surprise, fear, and awe.
"My magic. I can see my own magic."
Thus began weeks of study and testing. It seemed like whenever Granger wasn't in class she was in his room and Peech even began bringing two plates at every meal. It was almost enough to make Draco miss the long, lingering days when there was no one to bother him. But only almost.
Their routine shifted to accommodate their new shared obsession. Draco's lessons and Granger's own homework were done as quickly as possible. All their insults were saved for moments when Granger insisted he do a spell twelve times or when Draco purposefully aimed a hex at the spot he'd just heard Crookshanks moving about. The cat had begun following Granger to his room a week after Draco realized he could see his magic and could not be kept out, no matter how hard either of them tried.
"What are you even trying to do?" Draco asked, if only to stop her from asking him to tell her what the body-bind curse looked like once again. It was different, they'd realized, when a spell had something to affect, but she still insisted on knowing what he saw under all circumstances.
"I'm collecting data," she said from the head of his bed. She was curled up there, taking notes. He sat further down the bed, legs splayed over the side, arms resting on his knees as he lazily performed magic.
"But what good is it?" he asked. "What are you going to do with it?"
He felt the mattress shift when she shrugged. "It depends on what the data points to."
He flopped back on the bed, his scalp scraping against the wall. "I'm bored of being your experiment."
Crookshanks jumped onto his belly and he tensed, arms instinctively moving to grab the cat and pull him to his chest. Granger moved at the same moment, leaning forward and resting so close to him that he could feel her breath when she spoke.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
He instantly regretted it.
"Come outside with me."
"No."
"It's snowing! You have to admit, snow is something you can enjoy without seeing it."
"I enjoy throwing snowballs," he said.
"Well, you'll have to enjoy something else," she said, rolling off the bed. A moment later something heavy fell over him and Crookshanks. He recognized the feel of his favorite winter coat.
He pulled it away from his face and said, "I'm not exactly the snow angel kind of person."
"I'll bring Hogwarts, A History," she conceded. "At the very least we can study somewhere new."
Twenty minutes later - they'd lost a fair bit of time while Granger ran up to Gryffindor Tower for her own coat - the two were heading to the front entrance. She didn't offer any help save for a light hand at his elbow and a quiet "left" or "right" when they had to turn.
"No, tell me," he said. "How many people are staring?" He had the collar of his coat up and a scarf Granger assured him was Slytherin green wrapped high around his neck. His knit cap was pulled low, covering his hair. It wasn't much of a disguise and he doubted it would fool anyone, but it was enough.
"No one is staring," she assured him. "Everyone is either snuggled up in their common rooms or outside already."
"So the staring starts when we get to the front steps. Fantastic."
"It will be fine!" she insisted, but there was a slight tremor in her voice. "We're there," she said and cold wind slammed into him as one of the great doors creaked open.
He stepped into the wind until all the warmth of the hall faded away, until he could hear the air moving freely for miles in every direction except behind. Granger's hand caught his elbow just as he stopped.
"The stairs," she said, sounding distracted as if she were working out how he would get down them safely. "The first one is-"
"Is there ice on them?"
"No, Hagrid always makes sure there are charms in place to-"
"Good." Draco pulled out is wand and pointed it down and slightly forward. "Caligus," he said and watched as pale blue-grey light flowed into being. It spread and settled before him like the fog it was. He hadn't put much force into it, just enough so that a thin, barely-there mist would cover the steps. Where the light stopped, he stepped and made it not-quite-easily down the steps.
"That was amazing!" Granger said, clapping once with glee as she followed behind him.
"It was a first year spell," he muttered, marching forward into the snow and counting on luck and Hogwarts' always well-kept grounds to keep him from tripping over anything.
"But you thought to use it in a completely new way! It was really good, Malfoy."
She was far too happy and he too close to sharing the feeling with her.
"Which way?" he asked harshly.
He felt her pause, surprised by his tone. "There's, um, there's a bench at two o'clock, about ten meters away." She had to rush to keep up but he was too annoyed with life to give it the satisfaction of seeing him fall.
"Here," Granger said and Draco slowed just in time for the leg of his pants to touch the bench. He reached down to brush away snow, then sat heavily.
When Granger was settled beside him he said, "Well, this is much more fun than my room."
"Hush," she said calmly.
The cold settled over them. Wind blew past, only serving to remind Draco that he'd never fly again. The silence between them stretched for minutes and then Draco heard it. People. Students were running about and laughing and playing and yelling and having fights. Draco spent the next hour just listening to them. Occasionally he heard Granger turning a page beside him, seemingly content to read while he enjoyed the sounds of snowball fights and toboggan rides down the hill towards Hagrid's.
"Hermione! Hey, Hermione!"
Granger tensed beside him, flipping the book shut and shifting awkwardly on the seat as if she wasn't sure what to do. Draco closed his eyes firmly as two sets of heavy footfalls came towards them, slowing as they neared until, "Hermione? Is that…?"
"Yes," Draco said, smirking, "the elusive Draco Malfoy has emerged from his cave. Banner day."
"What are you doing with him?" Weasley asked, the final word sounding foul in his mouth.
"He needed some fresh air," Granger said primly, her tone very clearly warning them to be nice.
"Malfoy," Potter said, stepping forward. "I- I just wanted to say …"
Draco raised one eyebrow and tilted his head up towards Potter's voice.
"Good game," Potter finished lamely.
"It was," Draco said honestly.
Silence again, so heavy it seemed to make a wall around them, blocking out all the nice, distracting noises.
"Where are your friends?" Weasley asked sourly.
Draco shrugged. He assumed Weasley meant Crabbe and Goyle. If he had to guess he'd lay odds that they were with Zabini. Muscle like theirs tended to gravitate towards power and if anyone was going to take Draco's place, he honestly hoped it was Blaise. At least he had some sense.
"What are you two doing out?" Granger asked, sounding too cheery by far.
"Uh," Potter said.
"We were going to, um…"
Draco rolled his eyes behind his lids. "You were going to go throw snowballs at some Slytherins."
"Basically," Weasley said sullenly. He sounded as if Draco knowing meant the plan had to be abandoned. And it did.
"Who and where?" Draco asked.
Potter was slow in answering and Draco didn't need to see to know the three of them were looking at him warily. "Some fifth years who hexed Colin Creevy last week. They're down by the lake watching Hagrid free the squid from the ice."
Draco nodded. The stupid squid got himself stuck in the ice every year and had to be freed so that the merpeople could coax it deeper where it wouldn't be injured.
"Is it just the two of you?"
"Uh, no. Seamus and Neville are meeting us down there."
It could be worse, Draco imagined. Not much, but still worse. "Do you know where the fifth years are exactly?"
"On the shore near the pier," Weasley said. "Why do you even care?"
"Because you're not going to throw snowballs at them," Draco said firmly, using the same tone he did when giving Crabbe and Goyle orders. "You are going to do something better."
"I never thought I'd say this," Weasley said an hour later, "but you're brilliant to have around, Malfoy."
They were in Hagrid's hut - oh, the lows Draco was reduced to - having what someone had the audacity to call tea. It was warm, at any rate, and helped return feeling to Draco's fingers and toes, as did being squished between Longbottom and Granger as they sat on the edge of Hagrid's bed.
"When they slid down the bank into the water and the squid grabbed them!" Longbottom laughed.
"It'll take them a week to warm up!" Finnigan chortled.
Hagrid chuckled but quickly covered it up with a cough. "It was very sad," he said solemnly. "You should all learn a lesson from what happened by the lake today and remember to watch out for patches of ice. But," he added, his voice dropping to an excited whisper, "mostly you should learn that when you want revenge, go to the sneakiest person you know for help. Nice going, Malfoy." He sounded almost proud when he said the last bit and Draco wondered what kind of person could so quickly forgive everything Draco had done to Hagrid over the years. Gryffindors were certainly a strange breed.
Granger huffed for the millionth time. She'd kept up a disapproving attitude but Draco heard her laughing when his housemates slid down the embankment and into the tentacles of the half-freed squid. She'd been so tickled that he actually forgot he couldn't see what everyone was enjoying so much and instead just enjoyed her happiness.
"How've you been?" Hagrid asked gently and the merriment ceased.
Draco could feel their eyes on him and calmly took a sip of his "tea." He decided, on a whim, to answer honestly. It was the company he was keeping corrupting him, surely.
"As well as can be expected, I suppose."
"Tough luck," Finnigan said quietly. "Incredible catch though."
"Seamus!" Granger hissed.
"If I had to go down, at least it was in a blaze of glory," Draco said and was surrounded by supportive male voices, all sounding as if he'd simply broken his arm and been laid up for the remainder of a game.
"You did not go down!" Granger snapped, raising her voice to be heard over the boys. "You are still very much alive and kicking."
He smiled sardonically in her direction.
"You are," she insisted more quietly and she was so uncertain that he couldn't help what he did next.
"You're right. I am. I've beaten Potter at quidditch at any rate so there's really no loss there. Time to find something new to best him at."
The laughter returned then and Granger scooted the tiniest bit closer to his side on the bed.
The following Monday found Draco Malfoy sitting at the Gryffindor table for dinner. It was not his idea and part of him honestly hoped most people in the Great Hall would assume his recent disability was being used against him. And it was.
The Gryffindors had tailed Granger in order to find his room - apparently its exact location was hidden from the general population so that he might have some privacy. (Or, as Weasley said, so that he wouldn't be hexed to within an inch of his life now that he was away from the safety of the dungeons and basically defenseless.) Once they knew where Draco was they snuck down just before dinner and kidnapped him. He could have fought them off, but he had just gotten used to the way his mattress felt post-tantrum and he didn't want to break it in a third time.
So here he was sitting at the Gryffindor table. It was tense for a few minutes and then Ginny Weasley asked if Draco had any advice for getting back at some Hufflepuff who kept copying her answers in Transfiguration.
"Is she particularly slow- what am I saying, she's a Hufflepuff! Buy a Mix-'Em-Up Quill at Jenkins' Supply in Hogsmeade. You write the answer to question two in the spot for question one, question three goes with question two and so on. When you're done the answers move to the right spots and whoever was copying you will get everything wrong."
"See?" Finnigan asked someone further down the table. "What'd I tell ya? We should've brought a Slytherin to the table years ago."
"Potatoes on the right, and a mince pie on the left," Granger said quietly from beside him. She'd loaded his plate for him. He should have been annoyed. It was insulting at best and implied all sorts of things at worst. He was having far too much fun though. Who knew you could laugh with Gryffindors and not just at them?
It happened during the fourth recounting that night of the squid and the Slytherins. Someone slapped Draco on the back and his eyes flew open in shock. He saw something.
It was magic, he was certain, but not his. It shone for a moment in the blackness before disappearing, only to appear again a moment later. A long band of gold moving across the room from the direction of the High Table towards what, if Draco was right, was the Ravenclaw table. It appeared again and again for nearly fifteen minutes before finally disappearing entirely.
Draco nearly asked Granger if she could see anyone using magic but kept it to himself. They still hadn't told anyone about his being able to see - at least he thought she hadn't - and if she wanted to test this new development there would be no choice. Whoever was performing that magic … It was a teacher, he was sure. But who?
"Hello," a serene voice said.
"Luna!" Ginny Weasley said and there was some shuffling of seats. Draco was pushed aside and felt who he assumed was Loony Lovegood from Ravenclaw sitting on his left. "You said you'd eat dinner with us!"
"I got held up at my own table."
Despite the warm welcome she got the conversation quickly flowed over Luna much as it did Draco. They were talked about but very rarely were they spoken to directly save for the few minutes after Longbottom got it into his head that perhaps Lovegood was the only person in the school who hadn't heard about the squid incident.
She laughed lightly at the story but Draco thought she was being polite more than anything else.
"Loo- Luna," Draco amended quickly, careful to keep his voice pitched low so Granger wasn't likely to hear on his other side. Hopefully Weasley's reenactment of the 1990 Quidditch World Cup would keep her occupied.
"Yes?" she asked.
"Was there anything - strange going on at the Ravenclaw Table before you left?"
Luna considered that for a moment. "Well, Cho was flirting across the aisle with Blaise Zabini. And there was one less salt shaker than pepper shakers on the table."
Draco waited a beat to be sure that last bit of information had processed correctly. "What about anything to do with the High Table? Were any of the teachers watching the Ravenclaws?"
"No," she said. "Though Dumbledore and I were playing a game of chess. I think he let me win this time."
"You were playing chess with Dumbledore?"
"He moves the pieces magically from his seat."
Draco nodded, ending the conversation. He could see Dumbledore's magic too. This was something to look into, but how, without Granger finding out?
Draco ate dinner with the Gryffindors every night that week. On the third night he saw the unbinding spell Snape cast to free a first year Slytherin from a body-bind hex. On the fourth he saw Harry's spell to upend a bowl of fruit salad at the Slytherin table.
It was odd, Draco thought, experiencing the inter-House rivalry from this side of the Great Hall. Slytherins plotted and planned until there was almost no way to trace the pranks back to them, then waited until the privacy of the dungeons to do most of their celebrating. Gryffindors decided to prank Slytherins and just did it, the celebration coming immediately after (or even before). This was, three out of four times, why they got caught. Not even the most biased professor could overlook the entire Gryffindor table looking directly at the Slytherin second year who was magically covered head-to-toe in frog slime in the middle of dinner.
The following week was the first of December and found Draco in class. He didn't ask permission to return, didn't even tell anyone until breakfast that morning. By then he knew the path to the Great Hall well enough to get there on his own. When Potter asked if he'd like them to drop him at his room on their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Draco said he'd go with them instead. There was a pregnant silence but no one argued with him.
Potter and, shame upon shame, Longbottom walked on either side of him as they made their way up to the third floor. Draco tripped only once and Longbottom covered it up by pretending he had tripped and knocked into Draco. Maybe the great lump wasn't so bad after all.
Only someone who knew Snape would realize he was at all surprised to find Draco in class. The pause between "settle" and "down" was just a split second too long.
"Well, it's about time you returned, Malfoy," he said derisively but the hand on Draco's shoulder as Snape passed by during the lecture portion of the class was welcoming.
Draco waited until the practical lesson began to open his eyes. He had a working theory about his ability to see not only his own magic, but now the magic of a few others as well, and needed to spend time in class to see if it held any water. There was a slight hiccup during that first hour when he saw Longbottom's awkwardly cast inflation hex. In the end though, he had to admit Longbottom might be a strong wizard.
Strength, that was what it all came down to. Dumbledore, Snape, and Potter were all extraordinarily powerful wizards. Draco didn't kid himself, he was nowhere near that list, but he theorized that he was more likely to see his own magic first, being connected to it and all. Where this would stop, he had no idea. He wasn't up to thinking that far ahead, fearing he would get his hopes up. For the moment, though, it was a nice distraction.
"You could have told me," Granger said quietly at lunch. He couldn't quite place her tone, she didn't seem angry, but she was most definitely not happy either.
"Told you what?" he asked cautiously, pitching his voice as low as hers. If she didn't want her friends to hear this, he didn't either.
"That you were going back to classes."
He shrugged and quickly chewed and swallowed a spear of broccoli. "I didn't think it was important. Saves you some trouble, doesn't it?"
She let out a slow breath and he was fairly certain she was glaring at him. "You should have told me! I had plans and a schedule and -"
"And now you have a lot more free time. You're welcome."
Several moments passed in tense silence. The bench lifted incrementally beneath him, a sign that someone nearby had stood. Something - a fork or spoon - clanged loudly against a plate, and a bookbag hit him in the shoulder and head before Granger marched away.
"What did I do?" Draco asked the table at large, figuring someone would answer him.
"No idea," Weasley said. "But I'd wait at least a day to even try apologizing."
"Well that won't work," Draco said sullenly.
"Why not?"
"She's the only one of you Gryffindor idiots taking Ancient Runes!"
He'd resigned himself to following the Gryffindor class schedule, if only because they were the only ones he currently trusted not to send him down a flight of stairs. That, in and of itself, was horrifying, but the result, Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, had been worse. True to House, they enjoyed the dirt much more than anyone should. Draco didn't think he'd be clean ever again.
"Where would she go?" he asked, seeing no choice but to make up with Granger. Merlin, he hated apologizing.
"The library." "The common room." "The astronomy tower."
In other words, up.
"We could take you to class," Potter offered.
"Do any of you even know where the classroom is?"
The silence was answer enough. He supposed he didn't have to go to Ancient Runes. One more missed class wouldn't make much difference.
He waited until lunch was mostly done and the Great Hall mostly cleared out to go back to his room. He didn't want to risk running into anyone, literally or figuratively.
Once inside his room he closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, allowing himself to slide to the floor. His primary goal today had been figuring out how his sight worked now, but a close second was doing that "trying" thing Granger had ranted about weeks ago. His first day back in the world hadn't been so bad. It hadn't been so great either, but that would change. It had to.
"You should have told me."
"Ah!" Draco yelled, jumping so fast that his shoulder banged painfully into the doorknob. "Granger! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I didn't think yelling at you in the middle of the Great Hall would be a good idea," she said and he could hear something slide and fall with a dull thump. A book, if the direction of her voice was any indication.
"And why are you going to yell at me? Have I upset some brilliant plan of yours by doing the very thing you demanded I do and going outside of this damned room?"
"You should have told me!"
"Why!"
"Because I was helping you! I had to change all of my plans, my whole life to help you-"
He scoffed. "You did not! All the time you spent with me was time you were already going to spend studying. You missed nothing. And what if you had? Isn't this good? You've finally got your life back to spend with your idiot Gryffindor friends! Brilliant! Have fun!"
He stepped forward and fell to the right, counting on the bed to be exactly where he thought.
It was, which was just as well, he didn't think he could handle Granger dragging him to the infirmary if he'd bashed his head on the bedside table.
"Get out, if you please," he said, waving dismissively towards the door. "I have blind people things to do."
She let out an angry sound that was almost enough to have him reaching for his wand, but instead she just left, slamming the door so hard that his clock shuddered on the mantle.
He skipped dinner, ignoring the pounding of Gryffindor fists on his door until they gave up trying to coax him out of the room. He didn't even bother changing for bed, simply lay there until boredom gave way to sleep.
The door banging open was enough to wake him up, lucky since the intruder began speaking immediately and didn't seem inclined to slow down.
"What did you do?" Potter asked.
"She was impossible before," Weasley cried, sitting on the end of the bed, "but now she won't even help us with our homework!"
"I assume you're talking about Granger," Draco said, propping himself nonchalantly up on his elbows.
"You broke her!" Weasley snapped. "And you are going to fix her!"
"Why? So you can all pass your classes?"
"Yes!"
"What Ron means," Potter said, "is that Hermione is angry and hurt and the best outcome of that situation is you hexed to within an inch of your life."
"What is she even so wound up about?" Draco asked. "All I did was go to classes! Which is exactly what she wanted!"
Draco heard his chair pulled across the floor and Potter's body settling into it. "As far as we can figure from six years of knowing Hermione - and from what Ginny and Parvati said - she thinks you don't want her help anymore."
"So?"
"Helping," Weasley said slowly, as if speaking to a first year, "is what Hermione does. It usually comes off like she's telling you what to do because she thinks she's smarter than you-"
"Which she usually is," Potter admitted.
"-but she really just thinks she's helping and if you take that away from her, so help you God, she will make you pay."
"So you're here for my health?" Draco asked incredulously.
"Yeah, but mostly ours. Who do you think she'll turn on when she's finished you off?"
Draco sighed. If they honestly expected him to apologize to Granger just to save their hides, they were bigger idiots than he'd thought. But the idea that she'd come after him first was enough to get him out of bed.
"Fine," he muttered, "but only because I'd rather not be blinded and castrated in the same year."
"Hold on," Potter said when Draco headed for the door. "We have to be careful or we'll be caught."
"Caught?" Draco asked. "How late is it?"
"Two," Weasley said.
"In the morning?"
"It took us a few hours to finally agree to come down here."
"And," Potter added, "we wanted to be sure Hermione wasn't in the common room."
"And you're supposed to defeat the Dark Lord," Draco said, shaking his head.
"Don't call him that," Weasley said just as something light and silky fell over Draco's head. That alone would have surprised him, but he could see the thing. Not clearly, it was a blur of black, somehow darker than the usual blackness he saw. It didn't glow like a spell either and he had to wonder just what it was the Gryffindors had covered him with.
"It's an invisibility cloak," Potter explained.
"Of course it is," Draco said. Of course the Golden Boy would have something incredibly rare and valuable and perfect for running around and having adventures all over Hogwarts.
The climb to Gryffindor Tower took a good half hour and by the end of it Draco wanted to fling both boys down the stairs. When they finally made it into their common room Draco was pushed into a chair and told to wait.
"Gin," Weasley whispered. "Ginny. Ginny!"
"Ah! Jeez, Ron! Oh good, he's here. I can finally sleep in my own bed." Draco heard her flop out of whatever couch he assumed she'd been snoozing on and stomp up some stairs.
"Boys can't go up the stairs to the girls' dorms," Potter said.
"Sucks to be a Gryffindor," Draco muttered.
"Oh, God," he heard Granger say a few minutes later.
"No!" Ginny Weasley snapped. "You are going to go in there are listen to whatever they have to say because otherwise they are never going to let me go to bed and I need sleep!"
Granger marched over, stopping a few feet before Draco. "What?" she asked.
"You two can't be here," Draco said.
"What?"
"Your idiot friends."
"Fine by me," Weasley said.
"Good luck," Potter whispered.
Draco waited until their footsteps faded up a set of stairs behind him. "I'm not going to apologize," he said, "because we both know I did nothing wrong."
"Hm!"
"I will, however, tell you that I most certainly do still need your help. We have Charms tomorrow! Who's going to show me how to hold my wand? Who will help me study by reviewing every little thing we learned in excruciating detail? Who's going to silently judge me when I help Longbottom get back at Zabini for hexing him?"
"You're saying you want me to forgive you so I can bother you?"
"Basically."
"You'd think going blind would make you less annoying," she said, though was obviously not speaking to him, only at him. "Fine, you're forgiven. Let's get you upstairs and you can tell the boys to come out of hiding."
"Wait. Why am I going upstairs?"
"It'll take forever for you to get downstairs, even with your little fog trick. You're better off sleeping in the boy's dorm. Come on."
Having just been forgiven and too tired to fight, Draco allowed Granger to lead him upstairs. It struck him as odd that Potter and Weasley couldn't get to her room, but she could easily get to theirs. Godric Gryffindor, he decided, was one kinky man.
Granger stopped him and knocked on a door before opening it and pulling him inside.
"Everything's fine," she said, not even bothering to lower her voice, "we're friends with Malfoy again."
"Thank Merlin!" Ron said, then paused. "Never thought I'd say that."
"Hermione!" Longbottom squeaked. "What are you doing in here?"
"This is the boys' dorm!" Finnigan yelled. "How many times must we go over this?"
"I never would have guessed from your high-pitched screams," Draco said.
"Malfoy needs a place to sleep. He'll never make it back downstairs."
"He can't sleep here," Potter said.
"No offense, Malfoy," Thomas said, "but none of us want to double up with you."
The first time Draco saw Hermione's magic, she was tapping her wand against a wall. The spell expanded and for a split second he saw a blurry four-poster before the magic faded.
"Honestly," she sighed, "how can you have been going here for six years and you don't even know how the dorms work?"
She took Draco's hand and pulled him gently towards the bed until he was touching one of the posts.
"Sleep tight," she said breezily and left.
"We are never discussing this," Draco said a minute later.
The Gryffindors readily agreed.
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