A/N: Hey everyone! I just wanted to mention something before you read this chapter. I know that Draco has been a bit OOC in the last several chapters, but he's really going to remain that way. Personally, I see it as character development in some ways, but also that it's a side he only shares with Hermione. Hopefully you've all come on the journey in a similar way as I have and don't see it as so OOC for him anymore.


Chapter Nine: Study


It took approximately three days for Hermione to feel like she was going crazy. There had literally never been a point in her life where she'd simply sat on the sidelines and waited for a situation to be resolved. Staying holed up in this safe house might just kill her. She was pacing back and forth in the bedroom she shared with Draco for what must have been the millionth time that day alone when he finally interrupted her.

"Hermione, stop," Draco said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

She shook her head fiercely. "I can't just stay here, Draco," she said in frustration. "I know Harry and Ron probably hate me now, but I can still help them! I have to help them!" She knew her voice was growing hysterical, but she didn't much care.

"What exactly do you think you can do?" he asked softly. "You know Potter and Weasley have probably told everyone you betrayed them by now. The whole of Hogwarts is probably out for our heads."

Hermione exhaled shakily and folded herself into his chest. Unbidden, tears began to fall. "I can't bear the thought of them hating me."

"I know," Draco murmured, stroking her hair. "I know."

"If I may," interrupted a quaint voice from the doorway.

Hermione and Draco both spun to see Narcissa standing there, looking quite awkward. Hermione hastily wiped her eyes and straightened her shoulders. Even though they'd met on relatively amicable terms when they first arrived at the safe house, things had become strained. She was always on her guard around the older witch, uncertain of where they stood. This was especially so since Narcissa had taken to slyly belittling Hermione at every possible opportunity.

"What is it, Mother?" Draco asked, not unkindly.

"Well, in my contact with Dumbledore after my rescue," Narcissa said stiffly, "he happened to leave some books in my possession. He suggested you might find them interesting, Draco. Looking back, I wonder if perhaps he anticipated that Miss Granger here would be joining us." Then, only slightly below her breath, she muttered, "Unfortunately."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked waspishly.

"I assumed you would know what his intentions were when you saw the books, Miss Granger," Narcissa said, barely concealing a sneer.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue. She hadn't meant to ask about Dumbledore's intentions, and Narcissa knew it.

"Thank you, Mother," Draco said before a fight could break out. "If you'll show me where those books are, I'd be happy to bring them to Hermione."

Hermione turned around and walked primly to the small desk in the corner of the room. She sat on the hard wooden chair, keeping her gaze averted. She didn't really want a fight to break out any more than Draco did, but she was so angered by the sideways comments Narcissa always spouted at her. Insults were cleverly woven into her seemingly kind statements. It was enough to make Hermione want to tear out her hair.

A few minutes went by, then she heard Draco walk back into the room and close the door. She turned to face him and was utterly shocked by the hefty stack of books he carried in his arms. She jumped up to help him cart the books to the desk.

"Dumbledore left all of these with your mother?" Hermione asked in shock.

"It would appear that way," Draco said wryly.

Hermione examined the spines of the books now in her possession. The Tales of Beedle the Bard was among them, in its original language—the Elder Futhark runes. She almost relished the challenge of translating it. One book, a thick tome bound in flaking black leather, seemed to radiate Dark magic. Secrets of the Darkest Art. She shuddered, fairly certain of what information lay in those pages. Littered amongst the rest of the books were titles such as Immortality: Conquering the Unconquerable, Darke Magick and Its Pracktikal Applications, and oddly enough, Translating Difficult Runes.

She fingered the spine of a particularly old-looking handwritten journal. "It all seems to be about Horcruxes."

Draco frowned. "Horcruxes?"

"It's how Voldemort came back," she explained lowly. "It's what Harry and Dumbledore were out looking for . . . that night."

"But what is it? I've read a lot of books in my father's study over the years, but I've never seen these before." He gestured at the pile.

"I don't know much about them, at least not yet," Hermione admitted. "I just know it's something that kept Voldemort from dying completely."

"I suppose we'll have to get reading then, won't we?" he asked. He grabbed a book and flopped onto the bed. After a moment, he patted the empty space beside him and said, "Join me over here."

Hermione smirked at him, but blindly grabbed a book from the stack and snuggled next to him on the bed. His free arm wrapped around her shoulders, and they sat up against the headboard, momentarily content to learn something new.


Hermione chucked the book she was reading across the room. Her action startled Draco, and he swiveled his head to stare at her.

"What the bloody hell, woman?"

"It's a horrid book," she snapped. "Wretched. I don't want to look at it anymore."

"Okay," Draco said placatingly, "so put it away. Don't throw it."

She harrumphed and crossed her arms. "Don't boss me around, Draco Malfoy."

He smirked at her and set his book down. "I'll do as I please," he murmured seductively, moving to cover her body with his. "Now lay down."

Hermione mock-glared at him. "Or what?"

He leaned in and nipped at her earlobe. "Or I'll tease. And I know how you hate that," he whispered.

She gulped and smacked his arm. "Bugger off."

Draco shook his head. "Nowhere to go."

Hermione's heart began to race at his proximity. She reached up and slipped her hands underneath the back of his shirt. As she lightly dragged her nails down his back, she slid down onto the bed, bringing him with her. Draco balanced his weight on his palms and stared down at her. His swirling silver eyes explored her face. Heat pooled in her gut at the tender yet hungry expression he bore.

She removed her hands from his back and fought a smirk at the grunt of unhappiness he uttered at the loss of contact. Slowly, Hermione ghosted her fingers up his arms, across his shoulders, and along his collarbone. Her smirk grew at the sight of the goosebumps she elicited along his bare flesh.

"Damn you," Draco muttered. "I'm supposed to be the one teasing you."

Hermione trailed her fingers around to the back of Draco's neck and threaded them into his hair. His eyes closed and he inhaled sharply through his nose. She chuckled, loving the effect she was having on him. It made her feel . . . sexy . . . being able to make him feel this way. It made her feel wanted in a way she'd never dared to dream of.

"All right already."

At that grunt of concession, Draco leaned down and melded his lips to hers. She tightened her hold on his neck when he lithely slipped his tongue into her mouth. He really was the best kisser.

Suddenly, playing the submissive one in this situation didn't appeal to her. With a hard shove, she rolled them over until Draco was on his back and she straddled his hips. Hermione sat atop him and placed her hands on his chest, letting her hair fall in a curtain around their heads. She took her time taking in Draco's face—the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, the aristocratic set of his jaw. He growled in frustration at the lack of contact and dragged her by her neck down to kiss him once more. She smiled against his lips.

Draco's hands had just moved to pull her shirt over her head when a knock sounded on their door.

"Draco?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yes?" he called out, his voice strained.

"Lunch is ready."

Suddenly grumpy again, Hermione climbed off of his lap.

"Wait, Hermione—" he started, grasping at her waist as she moved away.

"Go eat with your mother," she said resignedly. "Bring me back something, since it's obvious I'm not invited to dine with you."

Draco sighed. "You have to understand—"

"No, I don't have to understand," Hermione said, looking sharply at him. "I do, but I don't have to. Your mother may have seemed welcoming at first, but she's clearly not comfortable sharing living quarters with me. I won't impose my presence on her any more than I already am."

She turned away from him before she could see the imploring look in his eyes. She didn't want to feel the guilt that went along with it. After a moment, she heard the door open and close quietly. She curled up on the bed and let the tears fall again. It seemed no matter where she went now, she was unwanted in some way. And for the moment, that was more than she could bear.


When Draco returned an hour later with a slightly burned piece of fried chicken for her, Hermione had already moved back to the desk and was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. She didn't even look up as he set the food in front of her.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" she mumbled, still distracted.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked.

"Writing to Luna," she said quietly. "I told her I was going to help you that night. She might listen to reason, or maybe be willing to talk to Harry. I have to try."

"I know you do," he responded just as softly. "But how are you going to get it to her? We don't have an owl here. And even if we did, it's not safe for us to send out communication."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm writing in code, first off," she said. "Luna was studying Ancient Runes too, so she'll be able to translate it. I'm also writing in a code within the code to make it harder for anyone to understand should it be intercepted. Hopefully it'll look like a bunch of gibberish to anyone but Luna."

"Again, how will you get it to her?" Draco asked, sounding impatient.

She waved her hand dismissively. "I've got a couple ideas for that."

When she didn't elaborate after a moment, Draco asked, "What are they?"

"I thought perhaps I could send it through the Floo to the Ravenclaw common room," Hermione said. "Or I could send it with my Patronus. I'm leaning toward the second option, since she knows what my Patronus looks like. She'll know right away it's from me."

She finally looked up to see Draco nodding. "That's a rather good idea," he said. "The Patronus thing, I mean."

"Well, if you agree, then that's what I'll do," she said, smirking.

"What form does your Patronus take?" he asked.

"An otter. Or it used to. I don't know if it still does or not." Hermione frowned. "I hope it still is."

"A Patronus can change forms?" Draco asked.

She nodded. "Since they're made from happiness and strong positive emotions, they can change if the person's emotions change dramatically."

"Give me an example."

"Love, for one," she explained. "Tonks, when she was in love with Lupin and before they got together, was heartbroken. That emotion caused her Patronus to change to that of a wolf, which mirrored Lupin's Patronus."

Draco leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her neck. "So, your Patronus may have changed since we got together, then," he breathed against her skin.

"Yes, it might have," she admitted breathlessly. "I haven't had cause to cast the spell in quite some time, so I don't know."

"I suppose we'll find out, won't we?" he asked, nipping at her earlobe.

Hermione turned in the chair and smiled at him. "And maybe after I send the letter, I can teach you to cast your own Patronus."

He smiled back. "I think I'd like that."

"But first I have to finish this letter."

Draco groaned. "Hurry it up, will you? I'm in desperate need over here."

Hermione laughed loudly. "You could always take care of yourself," she snarked.

With a playful snarl, Draco pulled her from the chair and wrapped her in his arms. "Why do that when I've the prettiest witch to do it for me?"

Hermione smacked his chest. "You'll wait patiently or get nothing."

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Yes, yes, all right."

She chuckled again. "You're so spoiled."

"It's why you love me," he quipped.

Shaking her head playfully, Hermione returned to her letter. After a few more flourishes of her quill, she waved her wand over it to dry the ink, then tapped the parchment to magically seal it. Once finished, she stood up from the desk, twirled her wand, and summoned her Patronus.

As she'd slightly feared, her Patronus had changed forms. Instead of an otter, what hovered between her and Draco was a dragon the size of Hagrid's boarhound.

Draco smirked arrogantly. "A dragon, huh?"

Hermione waved her hand at him impatiently. "Hush, you."

With a few more waves of her wand, Hermione Conjured a metal canister to put the letter in. She sealed it as well, then attached it to the silvery dragon's neck. Before sending it away, she whispered Luna's name to it. Hopefully her friend would hear her voice and recognize it right away.

Once the dragon was gone, Draco wrapped her in his arms once more. "So, a dragon."

"You knew it was a possibility," Hermione said.

"Yes, I did."

"Still in dire need over there?" she asked cheekily.

His expression turned thoughtful. "Actually, I was thinking I might like to learn that spell."

Hermione laughed at him. "I knew it!"

"Hush, you," Draco repeated. "You want to teach it to me; I can practically hear you thinking."

She stepped away and pulled his wand from his trouser pocket. "You'll need this," she said as she handed it to him.

"Obviously."

Hermione snickered. "You sound like Snape when you say that."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't."

Draco scoffed. "I'm still taking it as one."

Hermione shook her head. "So, you already know the incantation is Expecto Patronum," she said. "But that's not really the hard part of it."

He straightened his back. "Go on."

"You have to think of your happiest memory or something that you're looking forward to greatly. The emotion has to be extremely strong, something that won't waver in the face of a dementor. Only then can it become corporeal."

Draco frowned thoughtfully for some time before saying, "Okay, got it."

Hermione nodded. "Now hold on to that thought with everything in you. Let it fill up every inch of your body with light, then say the incantation."

Draco closed his eyes tightly, his face a mask of concentration. "Expecto Patronum."

Hermione watched happily as a wisp of silver erupted from the end of his wand. It swirled before them, attempting to solidify. When Draco opened his eyes again, the mist flared brighter, then fluttered away.

"I failed," he muttered.

Hermione shook her head, smiling brightly. "No, you were so close. It's more than I did the first time I tried."

His cocky smirk returned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she sighed knowingly. "You did better than I did at something."

He snickered. "Probably not the only thing."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do you really want to take that chance?"

He pretended to think about it. "I'd rather make you shut up."


Hermione spent the next few days engrossed in translating The Tales of Beedle the Bard. She relished the challenge, and especially enjoyed the random notes Dumbledore had scrawled in the margins. However, one particular notation confused her to no end. It was a symbol that kept popping up throughout the book, but it wasn't a rune. She was positive of that. The symbol was triangle that housed a circle. Drawn straight through the circle was a straight line. As simple as the drawing was, she couldn't make heads or tails of it. Neither could Draco.

Finally, she decided she'd include it in her next letter to Luna to see if maybe the odd witch knew what it was. Hopefully she would. Dumbledore wouldn't have included it in the book if it weren't important. Just as she'd made the determination to do this, a small wispy rabbit bounded through the open window. Hermione recognized it immediately and rushed to meet it in the middle of the room. The Patronus remained silent, but there was a familiar metal tube attached to its neck. Hermione had barely removed it before the rabbit dissolved into the air.

"Draco!" Hermione shouted. "Come here!"

He rushed into the room. "What's wrong?"

She smiled widely. "Nothing. Look, Luna wrote back!" She waved the metal tube in the air.

"What does the letter say?"

Hermione's smile faltered slightly. "Well, I haven't translated it yet."

Draco snorted. "Want some help?"

She shook her head. "It won't take long. You can go back to whatever you were doing before. I'll call you when I'm finished."

"No, it's okay. I was rather done spending time with Mother anyway. I think I'll read in here for a bit."

"Okay."

With that, Hermione sat at the desk, opened the metal tube, and extracted Luna's letter. She unsealed the parchment and unrolled it. Pulling out a spare piece of parchment and a quill, she set about translating the letter.

She was right; it took her a mere twenty minutes to decode. When she was finished, she grabbed the parchment she'd written the translation on and hopped onto the bed beside Draco. He looked up from the book he was reading, pretending disinterest.

"Ready to read it?" she asked eagerly.

"Haven't you already read it?" he replied drolly.

"Well yes, but not with you."

He smirked. "Hand it over, witch."

Hermione handed the parchment to him and read over his shoulder.

Dear Hermione,

I was glad to hear from you. I've been worried ever since you vanished, and I'm happy you're safe and well. Your new Patronus is quite interesting. I assume it's related to Draco. Tell him hello for me.

Yes, Harry told everyone what happened that night. He's very angry right now, as I'm sure you're aware. I'm sure you also understand his rage and that it will cool eventually. Just give him time. You two have been friends for too long for him to let this ruin things between you.

As to your request—yes, I do think that would be quite an interesting use of my time. I wouldn't mind passing information to Harry and Ron in the slightest. I'm sure you're right that they will receive it better from me right now. In due time, I will tell them that I'm just the courier. However, if I have any insights, I do hope you'll let me contribute.

I look forward to your next letter. Sending it via Patronus was quite a stroke of genius—you really should have been in Ravenclaw.

Love,

Luna

P.S. Remember to keep the Wrackspurts away as you work. You wouldn't want any of your information to be compromised by them.

Draco snorted. "Wrackspurts?"

Hermione shook her head. "Luna believes in all sorts of things that don't exist."

"So what do these Wrackspurts do, exactly?"

"I've no idea."

They sat there for another couple of minutes in silence. Hermione knew she ought to get back to work, probably send Luna another letter, but she was exhausted. The last few days had been hard on her, despite the fact that all she'd done was read and translate. Perhaps it was more of an emotional toll being taken on her. Whatever the case, she was content to snuggle with Draco for just a little while longer.


Hermione woke with a start to Draco's happy shout.

"What is it?" she asked in alarm.

Draco whirled to face her. "Look!" he exclaimed. He turned around again, then sighed. "Oh, it's gone."

"What's gone?"

"I cast my Patronus," he said dejectedly. "But it vanished."

Hermione sat up in bed, smiling. "Well, cast it again. I want to see!"

He turned to her once more, anticipation written on his face. "Expecto Patronum!"

A silver-white raccoon erupted from the end of his wand and danced over to her on the bed. Hermione smiled and reached out to it. The raccoon nuzzled her hand, scampered to the end of the bed, and disappeared.

"Draco, that's great!"

"But why a raccoon?" he asked, appearing mystified.

Hermione thought for a moment. "I don't know a lot about raccoons, but from what I've read, they're really intelligent creatures. They also can symbolize resourcefulness, adaptability, and disguises."

Draco frowned. "That doesn't seem to match me at all, though."

"I don't know if that's entirely true," she replied thoughtfully. "You've adapted to your new reality quite well, despite everything. That fits. You have always been resourceful, whether you've realized it or not. And personally, I think your true self was disguised behind your typical Slytherin mask. A raccoon suits you."

He nodded. "When you put it like that, yeah."

"They can also symbolize intelligence and courage," she added.

"That'd be your influence in it, then."

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, maybe." After a second, she asked. "What were you thinking of that made it corporeal?"

Draco flushed. "Erm, well . . . It's kind of embarrassing."

She shook her head. "Nope, no getting out of it. You have to tell me."

He scowled at her. "You tell me what you think of first."

She shrugged. "Easy. The first time we snogged."

"What? Why?"

"It was the day that changed my life for the better."

Draco walked over to the bed and sat beside her. "Honestly?"

She nodded. "It's not the happiest I've ever been, but it's a powerful memory."

"Mine's not really a memory," he admitted. "It's more like . . . something I hope for. You know, when the war is over."

"What?"

He gulped, then leaned over and kissed her, hard. Hermione made no move to stop him, instead choosing to let him work through his emotions in the way he knew best. He worked his hands into her curls and pulled gently, deepening the kiss with a new angle. After several moments, he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers.

"You," he whispered when he'd caught his breath. "I hope for a future with you, one where we have a family together."

Hermione's heart fluttered. She hadn't spent too much time dwelling on what could happen in the future, since there was no guarantee that any of them would survive the war. But as Draco said the words, suddenly she could picture the future with him. It was glorious.

"I want that, too."