Chapter 2—A Debate

A few hours later, Draco was sprawled out at his usual spot at the end of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. He preferred it there because it was fairly isolated. Now that McGonagall, the Headmistress, had disbanded all of the Hogwarts Houses everyone pretty much sat where they liked, with the exception of the former Slytherins. They preferred to keep to themselves, and they also seemed to prefer to keep Draco at a distance, which was just how he wanted it. Most people at this school just got on his nerves anyway. With his feet propped up rather arrogantly on the bench, he took a bite out of his Beef Wellington and turned the page of a Quidditch magazine he was reading.

Just then, a voice came from above. "Is this seat taken?" He looked up from his magazine in surprise; Hermione was standing there with her supper tray and an expression on her face that was both hopeful and anxious. Just over her shoulder he could see Ginny Weasley, also holding a tray with an expression on her face that clearly said, I don't think that this is such a good idea. He was sure that he had the exact same expression on his face.

Unsure if honesty was the best policy in this situation—his first inclination was to answer, Sit here, Weasley, and I'll hex you into oblivion. Granger, on the other hand, can feel free to sit right on my lap—Draco hesitated. He wasn't sure what to say because he never lied to Hermione, but he knew a refusal would hurt her feelings terribly. Blast. What was it about her that brought out his soft side? He didn't even know that he had a soft side, and right now it was highly inconvenient.

Hermione, it seemed, decided to take matters into her own hands. She pushed some of his paraphernalia off to the side to make room for herself and Ginny. "Five minutes, just give it five minutes," she said under her breath to him as Ginny moved to the other side of Hermione to sit down.

Draco let out a slow sigh of exasperation. "All right," he muttered back. "But you owe me."

He shuffled his things to give them a little more room, but continued to keep his feet insolently propped up on the bench where he was sitting, forcing them to sit on the bench on the opposite side. He could tell Hermione was not too happy about that. Too bad, Granger, he thought. You're the one who wanted to sit here.

As Hermione got settled, Draco noticed Ginny was looking at Hermione with an I hope you know what you're doing look. At this, Draco took a big bite of his supper, but the Beef Wellington now tasted like sawdust in his mouth. He was definitely less than thrilled about the situation; he didn't like people much, particularly self-righteous little Gryffindors who thought they were the greatest thing to happen to Hogwarts since indoor plumbing.

"So," Hermione began in an over-bright tone (which meant she was extremely nervous), "How has your day been going so far?"

What an inane attempt at conversation. He almost snorted out loud, but with great restraint managed not to do so. "Fine," he answered in a clipped tone and took a swig of pumpkin juice.

Ginny was looking at him with an odd expression on her face, as if she was trying to figure out just what the hell he was. Pipsqueak, he thought uncharitably.

Hermione was grasping at straws. "Anything good happen today?"

Yeah, I think my favorite part of the day was where I cornered you in the empty Charms classroom and practically snogged your lips off. He could see that probably wouldn't be the best thing to say considering the situation, so in an attempt to stall he took a bite of roasted potato. This was really difficult. Being polite was a totally foreign concept to him and he had no idea what to say.

Hermione was looking at him anxiously with those big brown eyes of hers. Bloody hell. Draco had always been a sucker for big brown eyes. It was the only way Pansy had lasted as long as she did with him—she used to drive him up the wall, but then she would give him her big, dark eyed stare…

It was nothing compared to Hermione's, however. Hermione's eyes were not only bigger and longer-lashed than Pansy's, they were also free of malice; and right now they were just pleading with him until he felt like he was getting lost in them. Aw…man…

"It was okay," he heard himself saying in a slightly bored tone. She looked disappointed with his response, so he tried one more thing. "Maybe Slughorn's detention tonight will perk things up," he added saucily.

He was finally finishing up the month's worth of detentions he'd been assigned by Professor Slughorn. Both he and Hermione had been given 2 solid weeks of detention after she blew up the Potions dungeon following a disagreement they were having, but Draco had ended up with an additional 2 weeks after he snarkily commented in the subsequent Potions lesson about why on earth a would a walrus choose to teach in a dungeon anyhow. Didn't they prefer to be near water?

"Are you still in detention with him?" Apparently Ginny's curiosity overrode her misgivings.

"Yep. Tonight's my last night." He folded his hands behind his head.

"How have you been able to get to your team's Quidditch practices?"

"I haven't. I practice on my own when I have time, and try to read up on things…" he gestured to the magazine in front of him.

Ginny's eyes grew round as she picked up the Quidditch magazine. "Is this the latest issue? I hear they have a great interview in it with Gwenog Jones…"

Surprisingly, it wasn't too bad to have a conversation with the Weaselette. She really knew her Quidditch and they ended up having a heated debate over top teams that lasted for nearly an hour.

"Yeah, yeah, Weasley, everybody likes the Montrose Magpies, big deal! They're a bunch of saps though, compared to the Falcons."

"The Falmouth Falcons? They play dirty, Malfoy!"

"So what's your point?"

Hermione, who was never a big Quidditch fan, opted not to join the conversation. Instead, she sat back and quietly ate her supper with a complacent smile. Draco made a mental note to kiss that smug look off her face later when he got her alone.

Supper finally ended and Ginny wandered off to find the members of her Quidditch team; apparently she had gotten a few ideas for plays from their conversation. Hermione remained in her seat and continued to give him that self-satisfied little smile of hers. "Do I still owe you?" she finally asked.

"Hell, yeah, Granger; you know I don't like people."

"I know," she returned, her expression becoming more serious. "I just don't know if this self-imposed exile of yours is such a good thing."

Oh great, here she goes with her with her Miss-Smarty-Pants-Talk. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Draco, you're always alone except when you're with me. That can't be good."

"So is this your attempt to 'save me', Granger?" He could hear himself getting a little riled. He didn't need anyone to change him; he was fine just the way he was, thank you.

Her expression became more determined. Stubborn Gryffindor, he thought. He had to admire her—most people backed right down whenever he became angry. "I'm not trying to change you, Draco, I'm simply trying to give you more friends. Only you would see that as a problem!"

"What if I don't want them, Granger?"

She folded her arms and raised her eyebrow at him. "You didn't seem to have much of a problem five minutes ago."

He glared at her for a moment. He wasn't ready to admit that talking to the Weaselette wasn't so bad—it meant that next would come Scarhead Potter and The Weasley King, and he really wasn't ready for that just yet. "Give me a break; this polite and friendly crap just isn't my style," he grumbled.

She got up and squeezed herself next to him at the bench he was sitting. "I know. But I wouldn't be so persistent if I didn't think this would be good for you." She put her head on his shoulder and looked up into his eyes. Damn it, those eyes again. "You'll just have to trust me."

He groaned. This was one adventure he would not be looking forward to.