Chapter 3: Sparrow

Hermione found Draco sitting up in his bed, reading the book she had left on the bedside table she was looking over before. He still looked unbelievably pale, dark circles rimmed his eyes and his breathing was slightly labored. However, although Hermione couldn't tell if her opinion only came from seeing those memories, she saw a glint of sly intelligence that remained in his grey eyes. Even with his sickness.

"You're awake," she commented, setting the potions down.

"This book is bloody terrible," Draco drawled. "Who ever this…" he turned to the cover page in search of the author. "Victoria Spurnpike is, she needs to check her sources. You shouldn't waste your time on this."

Hermione's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Really? I thought her book on charms theory was quite informative."

"She may know her charms, but this version of the dark arts is like a fairytale book. She seriously underestimates her audience, and I'm pretty sure some of these spells she writes about have been proven to be fake." He points to the page he has open on his lap. "Like this one for example. She actually thinks you can immobilize a dragon with that incantation? Straight out of a Beedle the Bard, I'm telling you."

Hermione starts giggling, and Draco looks at her like she's grown a second head.

"What is so funny?"

"You," she said. "I have no idea who you are anymore. I keep expecting you to call me an ugly bookworm, or tell me to get out of your face. But you're talking about… children's stories."

"Well, if you're going to go and laugh at me, then maybe I will tell you to get out of my face." He responded with only half-hearted spite.

"Sorry, sorry." She indicated to the book. "I know it isn't that great, but we don't exactly have the widest selection to choose from. It had the most straightforward title so I picked it up first." Draco shut the book and eyed the title: On the Dark Arts.

"Clearly. Well, luckily you're stuck with me. I can take a look at the library and show you what you actually should be reading."

"I would like that," Hermione said. She almost thought she saw a smile forming on Draco's lips before he doubled over into a coughing fit that shook his body.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I came up here to give you your potions," she said, quickly uncapping the first bottle. She waited until Draco's coughs had silenced before handing it to him. He eyed it with suspicion, taking in the dull purple color, and large hairy lumps floating on the top.

"It doesn't taste as bad as it looks," she insisted. "And it is the best stuff we've got." He fingered the smooth glass of the bottle for a moment, examining the contents before closing his eyes and knocking back the potion.

He gagged, and nearly spit it out immediately. "Not as bad?" He exclaimed, after he successfully swallowed. "Liar."

"Well," Hermione said sheepishly. "I've actually never had that one, so I didn't actually know. Sorry… The rest are truthfully not that bad though, please trust me."

"You've got to earn that trust, crazy witch," Draco replied, but drank the second potion that was handed to him.

"Better?" Hermione asked.

"Just like pumpkin juice." Draco drank the rest of the potions, and settled back into a comfortable sitting position. "Do you know how much longer I'll be useless for?" he sighed, looking at Hermione as she cleaned up the bottles.

"You're not useless. I can bring you up some books that we can go over together-"

"When can I walk, Granger," Draco interrupted, ignoring her comments.

"I'm not sure. You have a concussion, so you'll be sleeping a lot for the next couple of days. As for your other injuries, I can't say for sure. The potions are helping, but we are going to have to take it day by day." He looked down, taking in the information, and concern spread across her face. He was just like her boys, unable to sit still for even a moment.

"Here, I'll be right back," she said, taking the book and the empty bottles, and sweeping out the door. She was indeed back within ten minutes, with about six books in her arms. She piled them on the table, and climbed onto the edge of the bed. Draco hesitated, unsure of this new situation, but moved his feet to the side to accommodate her.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"We're doing research!" she said with excitement. He couldn't tell how much of it was to encourage him, and how much was just genuine Hermione bookishness. "How much do you know about the Horcruxes?"

He was a bit taken aback by her forwardness. He had never had such an open conversation about these topics, and after years of self-imposed secrecy he didn't know how well he would handle it. "Well, not much to be honest." He started slowly. "I had overheard a few comments between Aunt Bella and the Dark Lord. There were enough books on dark magic in the manor - real books, not your fairy tale nonsense - that I could understand what they meant. Still, there wasn't that much information past just what Horcruxes were in those books, and of course I couldn't get more information from Bella or the other followers. All I know about the Dark Lord's is that he made more than one, and that one was hidden in Bella's vault in Gringotts."

"Six," Hermione said. Draco didn't understand.

"What?"

"Voldemort made six Horcruxes, that we know of. Three have been destroyed. We have been searching for the others."

"Right…" Draco said, turning the information over in his head. "Is it fucked up I don't find that surprising? In any case, that Horcrux won't be in the vault anymore, I know for sure. After you escaped from the manor, Bella was furious and immediately left to her vaults. She moved it somewhere else, and maybe if I know a bit more about Horcruxes in general, I can figure out where." He looked over Hermione's arm as she reached out for a book. The scars that crisscrossed her skin writing mudblood were still red and new. He reached out, but with his hand half-raised he couldn't figure out what he was reaching out for. To comfort her? To know what those marks felt like under his fingers? He put down his hand.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't do anything," he said. Hermione saw the hesitation in his movements, and knew what he was referencing. Her eyes traced the scar, then Draco's face.

"You've gone through worse," she replied.

"I'm not looking for pity, Granger. I know you aren't either." He was silent a moment before he continued. "But I just watched it. I know exactly what Bella is capable of, and I had to watch that happen. If you didn't figure out how to escape, you would have died that day."

"If you had done something, you might be dead too. Also, you didn't identify us. Which I count as something."

"It wasn't the most heroic of plans, I admit. And I was found out anyway. I just wish I could have done more."

"How were you caught?" Hermione asked. "Your memories obviously stopped before then."

"That note on the Horcrux," he said simply.

She remembered how short and simple it had been, like it was written in a hurry. "Why was it different?"

"I knew it was important, so both you and the Dark Lord would be acting fast. I had to warn you before Potter and Weasley did something stupid. But then again, I was just as stupid and hasty, I did everything Snape had warned me against. I couldn't ward my room like I usually do, and I had to find an owl myself instead of sneaking the notes through other's posts. I made myself too obvious."

"You didn't ward your room?"

"No wand," Draco replied, putting both his palms up to show his empty hands, as if to prove the point. "Maybe another of my stupid mistakes, but Potter looked like he needed it more than I did."

"He said he forced it from you," she said, remembering the conversation they had with Ollivander at the cottage. "That if he had won it from you, it had changed allegiances."

"I had to make it look like enough of a struggle. Couldn't exactly wrap it up with a bow and offer to him could I? But I did purposely give it to him, so I don't know what that says about my wand's allegiance." He looked from Hermione, to the wand that she had beside her on the bed. "So he still has it then?"

"Yeah," Hermione said. "His snapped while we were on the run. But they also have a few snatcher wands with them so I'm sure you can get yours back. Harry's been using yours because he said it was more pliable, and easier to get to work for him."

"Are you saying I'm easy, Granger?" Draco said with a dry tone. Hermione looked at him with wide eyes, then burst into laughter.

"No!" She said between giggles. "Do you want your wand back or not? Harry is in another safe house. He can easily come over here if we let him know."

"I would rather not talk to him yet, if I can help it. Despite my alliance with the Order, it has little to do with any loyalty I have to the Chosen One. Its not like I'm in serious need of my wand yet," He picked at the edge of the bedsheet, folding it over his fingers, then turned to Hermione who to his surprise looked slightly relieved. "And my guess is you don't want to talk to him yet either… did something happen to the Golden Trio?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Hermione said curtly. She handed him a book, and dove into another one of her choosing. Draco conceded and started to read. "So, what happened after they found you out?" Hermione ventured after a few minutes, passing another volume between her hands.

"I don't want to talk about it," Draco retorted, turning the page of his own book without looking up. "This one has some decent information on higher level concealment charms. Even if they don't use them, we might be able to." He handed her the book, finger in a page so she could find the chapter easily.

We. Hermione noticed his choice of words. This teamwork seemed easier than she had thought it would be.

"Thank you, Draco," she said, taking the book from his hands.

He tilted his head at his name. "I'm Draco now?"

"Well, Malfoy is someone I used to hate. Somehow I don't feel comfortable using that name to describe you now."

"I'm sorry for being a prat in school, but I really am the same person. And in my defense, you are as much of a hardheaded bookworm as I said you were."

"I'll consider that a compliment. Now, you have to call me Hermione."

He liked the sound of that. A bit of comfort after being thrown into this new situation. "See, pushy aren't you. You prove my point… Hermione." She smiled, and Draco hid his face in a book so she wouldn't see his lips curling at the corners too.

"Hermione… I can't read this bloody thing anymore," Draco said angrily, pushing the book to the side. He could tell the cloth covering used to be bright red, but it was faded and worn from repeated readings.

"Careful! That one's rare," Hermione scolded, picking it up. "I know it isn't exactly the most fascinating read, but I still think it's important."

"Nothing Punnet says in there is worth my time," Draco sneered.

Hermione turned the book over in her hands. "You haven't even read past 1100 AC, how do you even know if it is worth your time?"

"The way he writes. Dull, reductionist… I've read it all before anyway."

"You've read this already?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

"Ah, and you thought I did well in school because I was born bloody brilliant?" Draco let out a sardonic chuckle. "I think you never really understood why I found you so frustrating at Hogwarts. It wasn't that you were in the library all the time, but the fact you thought you were the only one studying."

She frowned. "I never saw you in the library."

"The amazing thing about a library is you can take books out of it," Draco pointed out.

"I know that," Hermione said. "But a lot of books are on reserve there, and Madam Pince won't let them out of her sight…"

"Slytherin." Draco said, pointing to his chest.

"Okay, so maybe you could have read without me knowing about it," Hermione said, huffing out her chest. "But that doesn't mean you don't need to read now." She grabbed another book from the pile behind her and handed it to him.

Draco didn't reach for it. "You don't know everything, Hermione. Stop assuming you do until proven otherwise."

"I don't," Hermione replied. "Why would I be doing research right now if I did?"

Draco shook his head. "You think you can solve all the worlds problems like this. Sorry to be an arse, but you can't. Thinking you can is what makes you think you know everything." He put his hand to his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Hermione was stunned, still balancing the book in her hands. "I- This is the best way I know how…"

"I understand the sentiment… but I can't right now, okay? So just put the book away." He didn't look at her. His hand was still massaging his head.

"Oh… oh, I'm sorry Draco you're still concussed, I- I'll get you potions, I-"

"You're babbling is making it worse," Draco snapped.

"I… right." Hermione left the room, but Draco noticed she left all her books on the bed. His head was slightly better without the reading, but the silence felt like pressure in his ears. He realized that Hermione's voice actually released the tension that had built in his skull throughout the day. He was stuck in his bed, he could hardly move across the room, and it made it worse that he was also trapped in his skull. The pounding increased until Hermione opened the door once again.

"Headache potion," she explained, holding it out to him. "This one does taste terrible, just so you know."

"Er… Thanks," Draco said, taking it from her and downing it in one gulp. The effects were immediate, and he felt a little release, like he could think straight again. He sighed a breath of relief and reached for the book again. Hermione's hand intercepted his.

"You shouldn't read anymore today," she told him. "Just because you can't feel the pain, doesn't mean there isn't still healing to do."

"You said yourself this is how you solve problems," he said gesturing to the pile. "Don't you want to gain some more knowledge today?"

"I- I didn't mean…" Hermione took the book and moved it out of his reach. "I have you, don't I? How about you tell me more about this reductive theory of Punnet's."

"What?"

"You don't have to read, and I gain knowledge. I think it will all work out for us, don't you?" She crossed her arms, and waited for his response.

He would have told she was a headache, but Draco didn't have that excuse open to him anymore. Unable to give a good reason against it, he sighed and started speaking.

"Punnet doesn't exactly… care for looking at other sentient beings in the same light as witches and wizards. He explained that the reason for the Goblin interference in the wars of 1650 were based purely economics, but you can see in the Goblin testimonies and differing opinions by other scholars that that wasn't the case for all of those who participated. Some gained nothing by it. So when he talks about more recent issues with Goblin stances in present day…"

Draco and Hermione discussed and debated until the strength of the potions caught up with him, and he nodded off. Hermione pulled the blanket over his shoulders, noting that even just through this one day some color was returning to his cheeks. She moved the extra books from his bed, and left them on the table for the next day, before extinguishing the light and closing the door behind her.

Lupin stirred some extra sugar into his tea. He and Tonks were up most of the night with Teddy, and they only just got him to sleep again. He loves his son more than the world, but at the moment, the world was a dangerous place. He was sure that his exhaustion wasn't the best thing to deal with in the middle of the war. But he also knew how thankful he is for his little family, and that having Teddy gave him more strength to fight this war until the end.

As he took out some bread and jam for a snack, he heard some shouting coming from the second floor. Hermione must have been in Draco's room again, he thought. She was determined to get the boy settled, and her strategy has been to take as many books as she can carry into his room and debate the finer points of spell theory and magical history. She fell into the routine after the first day, and now it had been almost two weeks since he had arrived. She gave him space to sleep and recover, but whenever he was awake, they lived under a mountain of books. Draco was only just able to take short walks around the house with assistance, and the constant company of Hermione and their study made sure he didn't go crazy with cabin fever.

Both being strong personalities, however, they often got into arguments over authors and theories. Neither would budge, and disagreements sometimes grew heated. The day before, Hermione had burst into the living room, red in the face. "He is SUCH a PRAT!" She had shouted, lifting up papers and books scattered around the room, obviously looking for something hidden in the mess. "Draco insists that Arsenius Jigger was wrong in his assessment of Smarmy's work in the Imperius curse and potion-based personality control. If I can find this book, I can show him that Smarmy himself writes- aha!" She raises an old leather bound text in her hand in triumph, and raced out of the room, mumbling things about egos and ferrets before slamming the door behind her.

Lupin thinks that Hermione isn't used to someone who can match her in both wit and extent of scholarship. This arrangement might be just as good for her as it was for Draco.

Today though, the volley of voices from upstairs was a bit lighter. Lupin even heard hearty laughter from the guest room, something he couldn't remember occurring in some weeks. He quietly brought his teacup with him as he tiptoed up the stairs to investigate.

"...you did that? Half the school heard about that!" He heard Hermione's voice first. He stood in the hallway next to the closed door of the room.

"Well, me and Blaise. Flitwick was so mad-"

"How did you get away with it? He must have known it was you."

Draco chuckled. "Calling me out would mean that he would have to admit to it happening. And that would have been more embarrassing than ignoring it completely."

"But as a third year? I'm impressed. With the skill that it took, most people assumed a sixth or seventh year."

"Well isn't that something. The all-knowing Hermione Granger is complimenting the evil Slytherin. And on a prank no less, she must be moving to the dark side."

"Oh, shut up- but you have to tell me how you did it," she insisted.

"Well first, we had to figure out how to break into Flitwick's office…"

"Spying, Remus?" Tonk's voice came from behind Lupin, and he jumped.

"No, no. I'm… checking up on them," Lupin insisted. "They aren't fighting. I was worried."

"They are getting on better than I had hoped. I didn't expect that in my cousin to be honest." She frowned. "You know that will change once Harry and Ron get here."

"Did you hear back from them?" Lupin asked.

"Yes. They've been planning with Bill as much as they could, but they thought they would get here in a couple days to see what Hermione's found out."

"That would be what Hermione and Draco have found out now. Do they know that he is here?"

"No," Tonks said. "I told them that we had a refugee of some sort, but I didn't give any details. Sorry if its a bit selfish of me, but I didn't want to have to get the backlash. One child to deal with is enough." Lupin gave his wife a soft smile.

"I think it is better that Hermione handle it anyway. We should let her know."

"And I think that is your job then. Don't spy on them too much, dear." Tonks gave Lupin's hand a small squeeze, then continued down the stairs. He could hear Hermione's voice again as he knocked on the door.

"...even I don't think that he would- yes?" Hermione said, noticing the sound. She looked up from the small nest of books she sat in at the foot of Draco's bed as Lupin stepped into the room.

"Sorry to interrupt," he began. "But Hermione, can I speak with you? Harry and Ron intend to arrive in a few days, and we need to let them know of the situation." He noticed Draco cringe a little at the mention of the boys' names, but he didn't think Hermione saw. She climbed off the bed, careful not to knock any of her book stack over.

"Yes, yes. I know… they owled me yesterday," she said. "Is it safe to floo them now?"

"We closed down our fireplace to the rest of the network, so yes I think it is safe. They should be expecting you."

"Ok, thank you Lupin." She turned to Draco before she left. "Can you finish with the Merrythought text? I think we were making good headway with that one."

"Of course," he replied, and she smiled in thanks. Lupin didn't say anything about how Draco's eyes lingered on her when she turned to leave.

The talk with her friends didn't go very well. He could see it in the way she carried herself as she stepped around the room. Draco watched her get up, take a book off a shelf and frown before putting it back in its place and depositing herself back on the chair. Draco was well enough to stay down in the library for most of the day now, and they had moved their research operation headquarters to the more spacious room. He played with a glass of water to keep his hands busy as he looked over the last book he was handed.

"Harry and Ron can be such children sometimes," Hermione complained. "Lupin made sure that they didn't come running to my rescue once they heard you were here. They were quite intent on hexing you to oblivion, even after we explained to them what you had done."

"I wouldn't mind hexing them myself," Draco commented.

"Not helpful, Draco. You don't have a wand anyway."

"I could take yours."

"You can hardly walk yet."

"Bloody Hell, don't remind me." He passed the cup of water from one hand to the other several times. "I bet I could still take Potter. Definitely the weasel."

"Those are my friends, Draco. How can you be fighting for our cause, and still hate them so much?"

Draco's hands stilled, and he worked his jaw. "I'm not fighting for them," he spat. "I've never liked Potter, and not for the reasons you may think." Hermione tilted her head as a silent encouragement for him to keep talking. Draco's stormy gray eyes met hers. He knew she wouldn't agree with whatever assessment he made of her best friend, but he couldn't help the words from spilling out.

"He got so much attention, like he was the only person whose family was ripped apart by the Dark Lord. People worshipped him for something he did when he was a child - something so many others are doing every day. He isn't the only one who has experienced what it is like to stand before the Dark Lord-"

Draco swallowed and worked his hand through his hair. He had no idea why he was telling Hermione all this. He expected her to jump up and tell him off any second, but she just looked back at him, listening intently. He took a breath and started again. "To stand before the Dark Lord knowing a killing curse is on his tongue. I'm not jealous of that fame or attention though, am I? Can't you see that I wish I could be fighting like they are? It would be so much simpler to know where I stood, and what I should be doing, than live in the hell I grew up in. Potter is lucky, but he acts like he is the only one who knows what suffering means."

"I can understand how you would see him like that… but Harry really isn't like that," Hermione explained. "He's always hated the attention he's got, and ever since he arrived at Hogwarts he's acted like he carries the world on his shoulders. It has gotten so much worse since we've been on the run, and I'm just worried for him."

Draco shook his head. "I don't care about what he wanted or what survivor's guilt he carries around with him. He needs to get off his high fucking hippogriff and see the war from a dirtier angle. Not everyone was born on the right side." Draco gripped his glass tighter, knuckles going white, and continued in a softer voice. "He doesn't care what happens to my mother, or Snape. I left them there, and after my betrayal, I don't know how the other followers will react. I'm worried about them," he confessed.

"From what little contact we got from Snape since you arrived, he seems ok." She tried to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. "He hasn't sent any news of your mother, but if anything happened to her I know he would let you know somehow. If your father stayed loyal, she must be safe as well, right?"

"My father is a heartless coward," Draco said. "And even if my mother is safe from Bella and the rest of them, she still doesn't know I'm alive. I know she must be worried, and I hope she doesn't do anything… and what will come of her after the war?" He turned to Hermione and looked at her intently. "Even if the Dark Lord is defeated, Potter will just throw her in Azkaban. Hell, he'd probably love to throw me in there too, even after all of this."

"You really don't know him like I do. Harry may hold a grudge now, but that won't last. Please trust me."

"I really don't know if I can," Draco replied honestly.

They slipped back into silence, and some time passed before the discomfort from their conversation dissipated. Draco continued to read, putting all his energy into the research they still needed to get done before Harry and Ron showed up. The noise from the turning pages was accented by Hermione's frequent agitated sighs. She eventually got up, and explored the selection on the shelves for the umpteenth time since they settled down that morning.

As she grew more frustrated with the book selection, her aggression toward the books grew, throwing text after text down onto the ground. Draco watched her from the corner of his eye, intrigued by her movements as she flew about the room.

"We don't have the Blenheim Stalk book, do we?" She said, looking through another pile that was already scattered on the floor.

"The muggle expert? Hermione, you grew up with muggles, don't you know enough?"

"I'm not looking to learn muggle studies," she said impatiently. "He was an expert on the Ilfracombe incident, and other use of memory charms on muggles. Death Eater activity often requires the extensive use of memory charms to cover their tracks and I think we might be able to trace those back to wherever else they have been recently. Maybe we can find the Horcrux like that."

"Sounds promising-"

"We don't have the book though!" She said in agitation. "Maybe I should floo Harry, they might have it down at Shell Cottage…"

"Potter is even less likely than you to own a muggle studies book."

"No, you're right…Oh! But Mr. Weasley might! Actually, I'm sure he does! I've talked to him about Stalk before. When Fred and George arrive in a few days I'll ask them about it." She twirled about with another book in excitement.

"Perfect, more Weasleys. I still don't know what you see in them. Besides the hero complex and Gryffindor lovey-dovey shit, I can't see you actually enjoying their company." He suddenly had a reflection of genuine fear in his eyes. "You aren't dating Weasley, are you? Ron I mean."

"Oh Godric, stop. You don't know them," Hermione said coolly. "And no, I'm not dating Ron. But even if I were, it would be none of your business. Merlin, maybe you were right, you are the same Malfoy. You can still be such a prick."

"Cheers, Hermione."

"I just wish we were back at the Hogwarts library. There are so many books I wish I could look at, and we've gone through most of these." She motioned around her.

Draco lifted his eyes. "I don't think you would ever be satisfied with a library. This one is actually not that bad. Especially considering it is a Black family house, a lot of these books are closer to the ones that Bella and other followers would have known about."

"Yes, I guess that is true. But I wish it were bigger," she complained with a slight pout. Draco found that it didn't suit her. He lifted the glass to his lips to take a sip of water, but grimaced at the taste. It had gotten warm in his hands.

"Glacius" he said, and the glass cooled to his touch. He noticed Hermione's eyes on him as he lifted the glass to his mouth again.

"You are quite good at that," she commented, noting his lack of wand. They had no spare to give him until the boys arrived.

"You would be too, if properly threatened," he replied, and took another sip. Hermione was silent. "Sorry," he sighed. "That was a bad attempt at a joke…" He gestured toward the cup. "It really isn't that impressive, that spell is actually used in dueling as an attack. This is as much as power as I can get without a wand."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the two. They hadn't spoken about his memories at all. Draco had just accepted that she had seen them, and Hermione hadn't wanted to push the subject. Somehow, they had carried on with their research with the knowledge of that darkness looming above them. To Hermione, Draco was still a mystery. She saw that he made the decision to turn away from everything he had been taught when he was young, but she still couldn't really figure out how or why he had really done it. Now though, she knew was not a good time to address his past.

"Would you teach me?" She ventured instead.

"I don't know… I'm not that good at teaching," Draco replied. Hermione looked downcast, but didn't push him. Draco twirled the glass in his hands again. He knew it was his fault that she was fighting with her friends, however much he disliked them, and he already felt in her debt. "I can try though," he said, finally. "As long as you don't start arguing with me over theory."

"Oh thank you, Draco!" Hermione said, face brightening again.

"Hey, this isn't a free lesson. I do this, and you help me with some spells I'm having trouble with. Deal?"

Hermione nodded vigorously. "Of course! I've been meaning to start dueling again too. Anything you think we should work on."

"Good. Now for wandless magic - I know this is going to be hard for you - but you have to forget everything you ever read or were taught about the technique."

Hermione tilted her head. "Why?"

"Most texts tell you to imagine a wand in your hand, or pretend your finger is the tip of a wand. That is all a mental crutch, and makes it much harder to do spells that require more magic. You have to get over that hurdle first." He turned his palm up and cupped it slightly, like he was holding an invisible ball. "Witches and Wizards have been able to do magic without wands before. I'm sure even growing up in a muggle household you noticed you could do things that no one else could do. Wands only focus magic you already have. Without one, you have to focus it a different way."

He looked into his cupped hand for a moment before muttering, "Avis." A small sparrow appeared in his palm. It flitted about his hand, looking about the room and chirping before taking off in flight. It landed in a corner on top of the bookcase, and continued to chirp until Draco ended the incantation.

"When you're a kid, or even now, uncontrolled magic is often caused by strong emotions. That is one way to focus the magic, but it is much more unpredictable. To do it more consistently, you have to focus your mind. That is why wandless, wordless magic is so difficult. Words focus your mind on the spell, and it makes it easier to concentrate on the desired result. Without a wand, you need to know exactly what you want to happen, or nothing will."

"Hm, that is actually really interesting. I think Fronsac wrote something similar to that-"

"Hey, hey. I said no arguing over theory. This is completely for applied spellwork," Draco said.

"I was agreeing with you!"

"Okay fine, but we can't waste time thinking about the history of it. How about you try it out now."

Hermione looked unsure. "Already? Don't you have any more suggestions?"

Draco laughed. "This is a practical lesson, Hermione. You have to just try it out. I picked the avis charm because it is easy to form that picture of what you want in your mind. It's something physical, not more abstract like a cooling charm. I know you can do it."

"Ok," she said, and held out her hand. "Avis." Nothing happened. She tried a few more times, and nothing appeared. She glared at her hand in frustration.

Draco scooted forward in her chair to take her arm loosely around her wrist. She had somehow expected his touch to feel cooler, but it was warm and steady against her skin. "I can see the movement in your arm. You're still imagining a wand. Picture that bird, and nothing else. I won't let your arm move."

She nodded, and focused again. "Avis," she said. A puff of feathers appeared in the shape of a canary. It immediately dove into the air, and disappeared within five seconds.

"That was good!" Draco said, letting her arm go. "A full form bird too- even if it didn't last that long. That's a good start."

She smiled brilliantly. "I usually get canaries, I'm not sure why."

"You do have control over it, but most people fall into habit. That's the problem with most spells actually, and also why its so hard for people to learn wandless." He held out his hand again. "Avis." Another bird flew up into the air, yellow like the canary, but not quite the same.

"That's just a yellow sparrow," Hermione said breaking out into a wide grin. "You didn't change birds."

"Maybe I need some practice too," Draco replied.

A/N: Please review! I'd love to hear your comments.