Chapter 4:

It had been Hermione, again, who had arranged their meeting in the library this afternoon. Draco had agreed most reluctantly and was now staring on his parchment. He should be doing his homework, but he could neither concentrate nor did he think what he was supposed to do for tomorrow's classes would have particular impact on his life – not in light of the fact he had to be careful to stay alive. Draco sighed, put down his quill and bent down to his bag to get out his notebook.

Unless someone entered the library and they felt the need to pretend they'd be an enamoured couple, they did not talk. He didn't even need to look at Granger to feel her staring eyes resting on him, and he wondered why she couldn't just do her homework and leave him alone. She had practically been staring at him half the time – and from what he knew about her, it was most unusual for her not to look at her books and parchment for more than a few seconds. What did she expect him to do, run away?

He scribbled something into his book, figuring it might help him to put on paper everything he knew – everything he had found out so far about the Vanishing Cabinet, and what still had to be done, but in stead of assuring him, it made him even more frantic. Draco had to put down his quill and concentrate on his breathing for a moment. He often got like this lately when he thought of what lay ahead, and what was on stake – it felt like he couldn't get any more air, as if his breathing had ceased. He gasped a little and calmed himself down a little bit.

Pansy didn't talk to him any more, so it seemed. Ever since they had met on the staircases they had barely seen each other, but from what Draco gathered, she had told almost the entire school – or rather, the part that didn't know already, about him and Granger, and not in a gentle way.

Well. Whatever.

Someone walked past them, and Hermione bent over to him. He looked up, and wondered if she couldn't get it a rest – she was so obsessed with the idea of them, it was scary. But now he had risen his head he actually noticed that almost everyone's eyes seemed to lay on them.

'God, this sucks…,' he mumbled, 'everyone starring at us as if they had never seen a boy and a girl sitting in the library.' It certainly seemed that way.

'They are probably rather astonished you are sitting with a mudblood,' replied Granger.

Draco shrugged. 'Well, they have a right to be, haven't they?,' he said dryly. 'I usually chose my company more carefully.' How casual his voice sounded. No one, ever, would have guessed what had been on his mind a few minutes ago. Draco had never been more proud of his acting – and at the same time he had the feeling that although he didn't mind pretending in front of Hermione Granger, it was no good for him to lie to himself – but acting normal was so easy...

'Too bad you didn't got to chose it this time,' she said, her voice rather sharp.

His lips curled. 'Like I said. I got a reputation.'

He had to swallow when he thought of his family, when he thought of his father, and their esteem amongst the Death Eater ranks... He wouldn't want to know what they would think, or do, about him and his family if they found out about the situation he had brought himself in. They would never understand that under normal circumstances he would have never bothered with someone like Granger.

'I don't know what you're aiming at, Granger, I really don't. But be assured, given the choice, I'd already put a cruciatus curse on you and your family. I will never take a liking on Muggles,' he eyed her scornfully, 'or muggleborns.'

Draco rose his glance to check on the clock, and closed his notebook.

'Is this enough, then?,' he asked annoyed.

'Don't be so on edge,' she hissed, 'they are watching!'

He rolled his eyes, and made his voice sound more gentle, reminding himself he was not to displease her. 'Sorry. So can I go now?'

'Yeah sure. Tomorrow same time?'

He nodded, not quite sure yet how he was ever going to fulfil his task if Granger was blocking his afternoons, packed his stuff and was about to leave.

Hermione cleared her throat. 'Urm, Draco, maybe you should…'

'What?' He looked more annoyed again, but couldn't help wincing when she addressed him by his first name -the first time, he realised.

'I dunno, maybe you should hug me for goodbye or something,' she stammered. 'I mean, you know, as couples do.'

He rolled his eyes, but nevertheless, he gave her a hug. It was the most reluctant way of hugging someone they both had ever experienced and Draco hoped no one was watching – although he realised, for Hermione it was the other way around: She wanted people to see them together.

When he realised of her and gave her an annoyed look he noticed that she had blushed, and looked almost as uncomfortable as him. 'Erm, bye then,' she said.

'See you.' And off he went.

VVVV

Draco ran over the court, through the cold. He had been outside for the entire evening, intending to come up with a further plan, or to simply get his minds of things – neither had worked, though. Now he was hurrying to be in time for his meeting with Pansy – she had asked him to catch up with him outside around this time to talk to him. Although Draco had tried to tell himself he didn't care whether she was talking to him, he now felt that he did indeed want to make up with her.

Pansy was already awaiting him, and with her was Blaise. Draco groaned inwardly, wondering what to expect and then walked up to them. Pansy turned to him.

'Hi,' he said uncertainly, and hated himself for how he presented himself lately. What was wrong with him? Why would he owe them an apology, anyway.

Pansy glared at him. 'Hi,' she said, her voice a little bit cold.

'What do you want?,' asked Draco, now a little bit more confident – to his relief.

'Talk to you,' she said shortly.

Draco crossed his arms, determined not to make the first step. 'I'm listening,' he pointed out.

Pansy hesitated. 'I was a little bit on edge the other day, and – and I'm sorry.'

Blaise just looked from one to the other.

'Okay,' Draco said, and pushed himself from the wall. 'If that's all -'

'Not quite,' she said quickly, and took his arm. 'Draco, you gotta admit what you are doing is stupid and – and we would have never expected you to -'

'Pansy, do me and yourself the favour to shut up.'

'But a mudblood, Draco, honestly! And Granger, of all -'

'Pansy, it's none of your business!,' said Draco, his voice much louder now.

'But Draco,' Blaise said now, 'what are you thinking? You can't tell us that this is a wise move currently and -'

'What happened to your pride?,' interrupted Pansy. 'What happened to your good sense? What happened to all our traditions, all what we stand for, what happened to Slytherin, would you rather be off in Gryffindor with that mudblood?'

The thought of her thinking he had lost everything he had always been holding most dearly was unbearable. Draco was almost about to tell them everything, show them he was the same, he still was holding up his reputation, and their house's reputation... But they didn't know about Voldemort, or anything else – and what was worse, actually? Seeing a mudblood or letting yourself get pushed to the ground by a mudblood? So he said nothing, and let her carry on.

'I just cannot believe it Draco – it's a shame – I mean, what are your parents saying to all that? You're insulting your entire family!,' Pansy just said.

'Oh, shut up,' Draco said. He tried to keep calm. He mustn't lose his nerve now. He noticed a shadow between the walls, frowned slightly – was Snape watching him, again? - and then turned to Pansy and Blaise. 'You guys really get on my nerve. I haven't told father yet, and you'd better shut your mouths about it.'

Yes, that was good. If Pansy and Blaise had only a little bit of good sense, they would obey him – he hoped. Maybe it had some good his father was locked up in Azkaban, far away, after all...

'Don't you feel some sort of pride of being a pureblood?,' Blaise asked. 'I always figured you, of all people, would be the last one to-'

'Shut up. Just shut up. I'm not discussing this with you, especially not here.'

With those words he turned around, glanced at the walls – but no one seemed to be there. He had planned on returning to the room of requirement but his friends had other ideas.

'She's a mudblood!,' repeated Pansy when they ran after him. 'Granger… Draco, why?'

Draco ignored her, and told himself just to be quiet.

Himself. Like there was no one else he could talk to – and he realised there was no one indeed. He was all by himself, all alone, everything down to him. When he had been younger he would have dreamt of such a mission, the responsibility, the ability of making decisions, all by yourselves – but now he was standing here, hoping nothing more than that someone else could tell him what to do and what to say.

Picture girls we want so badly/Isn't she a dream come true?