Chapter Eight
He sat at the Slytherin table for breakfast, not seeing any real reason to sit at the Gryfindore table. Despite the distance, he kept a close eye on Hermione and was glad to see that she was actually eating, though she did keep glancing over to him as though to reassure herself that he wasn't going anywhere.
"What are you doing here?" Pansy hissed in his ear, sliding close to him and making sure it looked like she was coming onto him.
"Having breakfast," he replied blandly, ignoring her close proximity and paying more attention to Goyle who was taking his wand out in what he was sure the idiot thought was a discrete manner. He didn't let that stop him from pouring milk onto his cereal though.
"What makes you think that you could just waltz back here after what you put me through? I was worried sick, and now you've turned your back on everything."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you Goyle," he said blandly as the idiot raised his wand. "I'm more highly trained in combat than you and I'm not used to having to hold back. The injuries you could sustain would likely be quite heavy."
"You can't order me around anymore Drac-"
"Don't be an idiot Greg," said Blaise from across the table. "You saw what he could do before he was trained by a bunch of cold blooded killers. Even you aren't stupid enough to want be the at the receiving end of what he can do now." A glance to Granger showed him that she was flinching away from Potter putting a hand on her shoulder and saying something to him. From the corner of his eye he saw Goyle sullenly put his wand away grab some toast and then storm off.
"You look like hell," Blasie told him, running his eyes over him as Draco ate his cereal without paying that much attention to the handsome black boy. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," he replied blandly.
"Such a shame," Pansy muttered before slinking away from him to go and bother someone else. Blaise however didn't move, he didn't eat either. Instead he just sat opposite watching him with what might have been worry.
"What the hell happened to you?"
"I received training from multiple Death Eaters."
"And the scars? What about them?" For the first time that morning, Draco bothered to meet his friends eye and Blaise instantly shrank back a little. For some reason the mention of his scars irritated him. Possibly the faint shadow of vanity that lingered on despite all he had been through.
"They remind me that failure is unacceptable." Blaise glanced away as he went back to his food. The cereal didn't taste particularly pleasant, but it contained the nutrition required for breakfast. After a long moment of silence, Blaise spoke again.
"The other's might not be, but I'm glad your back."
Across the hall, Hermione got to her feet and began to make her way over to him. He had nearly finished his cereal by the time she reached the Slytherin table and sat down beside him. She had brightened up a little since he had escorted her here, but still looked as though she had barely slept. Still, the fact that she was here at all was apparently an accomplishment. Blaise eyed her warily, not quite knowing what to make of her. With a quick glance he took the reactions of the rest of the Slytherins. Hostile confusion just about covered it for the most part.
"I thought that we could go to the library once you're done," she said with a weak smile and a furtive glance to Blaise. "I can show you what you've missed and we can go over it together since I've missed a bit of it as well."
"That would be the most practical arrangement." At that her smile widened for a moment, becoming genuine for the briefest second before her nerves at being around the next generation of Death Eaters kicked back in. Blaise didn't take his eyes off her and he didn't like the way he was watching her. From the way Granger was squirming it looked as though she wasn't particularly happy about either. It didn't take him long to finish his breakfast and the moment he did, he stood up and gestured for her to do the same.
"Bye Draco." Not entirely sure why he bothered, he gave Blaise a nod before leaving with Hermione close by his arm. She visibly relaxed the moment they were out of the Great Hall.
"I hope I haven't pulled you away from time with your friends."
"You didn't." Granger gave a sigh of relief.
"Good. I wouldn't want to get in the way of you getting as close to back to normal as you can." She sounded genuinely concerned about this issue, though he wasn't entirely sure why.
"I have no intention of getting back to normal."
"Oh," she said with a frown. He could tell from her expression that she wanted to say more and for the first time he felt the need to elaborate.
"Many of the people you saw as my friends were people I simply tolerated. Also, I am now fully aware of how unpleasant and pathetic I was and I have no desire to fall back into such behaviours as they would be detrimental to the completion of my current orders."
"So you want to just stay like you are now?" At that he shrugged, not really knowing what to say.
"I haven't really thought about it."
"I'd rather die than stay like I am now. Terrified of being touched, of being around people. Being angry all the time." She sighed and looked around. "Not being able to sleep for more than a few minutes, feeling sick whenever I eat something. It's almost enough to make me wish I'd died in that cell." He reached out and lightly touched the small of her back, an action that seemed to calm her. "What subjects do you take anyway?" That was an obvious change of subjects if ever he heard one.
"Potions, defence against the dark arts, charms and transfiguration. You?"
"The same," she said, casually taking hold of his arm as they walked and a teacher he didn't recognise passed them. "How did I never notice that? I knew you did potions and defence but I've never seen you in charms or transfiguration." He didn't reply, instead he glanced to the hold she had on his arm. Despite the lack of people around she hadn't let go. She had however noticed where his attention was directed and reluctantly removed her hand. "Sorry, you probably don't like it when I do that." He shrugged in response.
"I'm not used to this variety of physical contact anymore, but I don't mind," he said blandly.
"Really?" she asked brightly.
"If it helps then feel free. I was ordered to keep you safe and while helping you to recover emotionally wasn't specifically stated, I see it as necessary to your overall well being." Blushing a little, she hesitantly put her hand back on his arm.
"So," she said, awkwardly clearing her throat. "What do you want to work on first?"
"Whichever is most practical." This was quite probably the most he had spoken in over two months. It was strange but he was yet to find it unpleasant as he thought he would.
"Which do you enjoy most?" The question puzzled him somewhat. How long had it been since someone had asked him something like that?
"Isn't such information irrelevant?"
"Not to me," she replied with a smile and by giving his arm a slight squeeze. "I like knowing that the people I'm tutoring are at least interested in what we're doing and it can help me find the right technique to help you properly get to grips with the other subjects." He thought for a moment, but didn't come up with an answer until they were in the library and he was closing the door behind them.
"I would prefer it if we started with something other than defence. I believe I have a more than comprehensive knowledge of that particular subject." She smiled at him again, now seemingly in her element.
"Potions is a bit too practical to do in the library and without proper preparation, so charms or transfiguration?"
"Charms I suppose." Another smile and nod and she led him to the charms section. It didn't take her long to pull out all of the required reading, passing each book to him to hold while she searched for the next. There were only eight in total and two of those were for herself. It seemed like a bit much until he realised that this was studying to Granger's standards and that he should likely multiply this by four as he doubted her standards across subject would be any lower. Still, at least he had nothing else to do and it was better than having curses thrown at him nonstop.
Books selected, they picked out a table and Hermione took out her notes. "Okay, now you don't need to read all of these, the two by Needlwort you only need a few chapters of each and you'll probably wish you didn't even need that." Quickly she copied down the chapter numbers that he would need from her notes and a few page numbers where she had presumably found some interesting facts.
"Did you read all of these?" She glanced up and smiled with a slight blush.
"Yes, though I sorely wish I hadn't bothered. Charms is a subject that is harmed by its professionals. It should be a serious subject, but some of the waffle that get's past the editors that would be stripped out and ridiculed in any other field is ridiculous. Half the contents of these books might as well be how not to do guides."
She was chattery as she guided him through what he thought of as his recommended plan of action. The chapters to read, the exercises to complete to get a better grip of the theory, they even scheduled some practise time. He was glad to see her so animated and obviously enthused by something, he only wished that he could have matched it. It seemed that he had lost the art of conversation through his training, though Granger didn't seem to mind and more than made up for his lack of input.
The time went quickly, more quickly than he remembered time passing whenever he had studied before and Granger was much more helpful than he had thought she would be.
At around quarter past ten they packed up, checked their books out of the library and set off towards the dungeons. Potter and Weasley were already there, but the rest of the class were nowhere in sight yet. So he didn't intrude on her time with her friends, Draco hung back a little and leaned against the wall, watching with little interest.
"Have fun in the library?" Potter asked, standing near her but obviously resisting the urge to touch her. Granger gave a nod, wringing her hands together and glancing between him and her friends.
"Yeah, it was fairly productive. Of course I need to talk to my teachers to find out exactly what I've missed, but I think Draco and I will be fine." Weasley was eying him suspiciously, but didn't say anything, either to him or Granger. He ignored the boy, he couldn't even pose a threat if he wanted to. More students filed down into the dungeon as Hermione held a strained conversation with her friends. Eventually he bowed out, telling Granger that he would meet her in the Great Hall.
Severus sat in the corner of the pleasantly homely muggle bar, waiting for Minerva to show up. He wasn't entirely sure what or who he was looking for, but she knew the identity he had assumed via the use of polyjuice potion. Nursing his drink, he pushed the man's glasses up his nose and tapped his foot on the ground with some agitation. There was far too much that he needed to ask her about.
But all that was forgotten when a busty red head wearing a form fitting black latex dress walked into the pub and went to the bar. Her hips had a pleasant sway to them and her legs were long and shapely. Drink in hand she scanned the room. It was then that he noticed that she was wearing square spectacles. Minerva's square spectacles.
Sometimes he hated that woman.
Smiling when she spotted him, Minerva waved and walked over to sit opposite him in a lady like manner that clashed with her outfit.
"Simon," she said, her voice youthful and with a slightly Scottish lilt to it and her green eyes sparkling with mischief. He swore she had chosen that form purely to torture him. "It's good to see you again. How've you been."
"Stressed. The boss has me working overtime and then there's the nasty business of what's going on with my godson." He took a sip of his drink and fixed her with a carefully measured stare. "How is he anyway? You see him more than I do now." At that she grimaced.
"Not too good, the therapist wants him to have more sessions but he refused. Still, he seems to have made a good friend. Barely leaves her side unless he has to and is very over protective of her. And she seems to genuinely care about him. If all goes well he'll be starting school again after Christmas. We're all hoping that it'll bring him out of his shell a little and put him back on the right track."
"It sounds like his situation is improving at least. His mother will be happy to hear that. Speaking of which," he said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a thin envelope that contained all the information he had managed to gather over the last week. "I promised you an article on the rising violence in the North East, and here it is."
"Cool, this will really help with my degree."
"You just be careful with that, my boss will have my head if he finds out I've given it to you."
The footsteps were quite and perhaps even timid, but they reached him none the less. There was a pause, almost a minute long until eventually his visitor knocked at his trap door. "Draco?" came the quiet and nervous voice of Granger. "Is it okay if I come in?" He didn't bother getting up, he just stayed where he was. Lying on his back with his hands behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankles. He didn't even bother opening his eyes.
"Of course," he called back, just loud enough for her to hear him. The creak of the trap doors hinges met his ears, followed by the strain of the floor boards.
"Sorry about this, it's just, I can't sleep. I haven't managed more than an hour since I left the hospital wing. And I was wondering . . ." After a while it became obvious that she was too embarrassed to finish her sentence, though he was fairly certain he knew what she was going to ask. If she could sleep here where she felt safe.
"Do I have to move?" he asked.
"No," she replied timidly.
"Then do whatever you want." Silence met his ears for a moment before some quiet noises he couldn't quite decipher came from her movements. He assumed that she had been taking off her shoes when her footsteps were barely audible.
Then his eyes flew open as the mattress dipped and she lay down, pressed against his side with her head on his chest. He stared at the top of her head in shock, her hair tickling his skin slightly. She must have felt some change in his breathing as she tensed slightly and said "I'll move if you want me to." Did he want her to?
"No, it's okay," he replied, surprising himself slightly. The girl in his bed gave a sigh of relief, her breath rolling across his chest. "You can stay there."
A/N Thank you to Camille and Keke Koorime for reviewing th previous chapter. The next chapter is where it all really takes off.
