I don't know how much more of this I can take. Mum's being very helpful, letting me use her computer, but it's not the same. I miss my laptop so badly. Why did they have to send me a faulty product, why?!

School starts in a week and then I won't be able to update as fast as this because of work. So please don't abandon me, I'm warning you in advance. Just because the chapters take a while doesn't mean I've forgotten this story.

CHAPTER TEN

Boggarts and Patronuses

"We have forever
And we hold it in our hands
It slips through our fingers
Like little grains of sand"—Lose the Style, Frontliner

Draco sat back in the hospital bed and drank a strange purple mixture that looked horrible and smelt terrible.

"It's for any infections," Madam Pomfrey explained, "Hippogriff claws are terrible, you don't know where they've been putting them." And then she left to attend to something else across the hospital wing.

Draco had been given some skin-regrow earlier and some blood replenishing potion and now he only had to wait a day or two for everything to finish working. The skin-regrow wasn't like Skele-Gro. It took much longer and so he would have to wear his arm in a sling for a while. Draco wasn't too bothered, he was already thinking of ways to use it to his advantage.

All in all, his arm wasn't that big of a deal. Sure, it hurt like the devil, but after last year's basilisk encounter when his leg got broken, it wasn't too bad. He was angrier over Zabini's idiocy at almost killing Nott; those talons were right in line with his neck. And above all, he was worried about what Hermione would think.

Draco had heard what those Gryffindors were saying. They all thought it was him who set the Hippogriff off since he was the one dealing with it when it went mad. They all probably hated him for ruining the giant's first lesson, and Draco knew his father would be getting involved. But did Hermione believe them; did she think he'd goaded the Hippogriff on purpose too?

Just thinking about the incriminating looks from the rest of the Gryffindors on her face made Draco feel horrible. His chest hurt. He banged his head back lightly on the headboard and groaned. Great, it would take a miracle to fix things with her this time.

Suddenly, the curtains pulled back and Draco opened his eyes in surprise. "I thought visitors weren't allowed?" he said.

Nott smirked. "They aren't, but when has being not allowed ever stopped us?" he said.

Draco sighed. "Too true. What are you doing here? Come to see the arm?" he waved the sling about and twitched. It still hurt and the numbing potion was starting to wear off.

Nott lost his smile when he saw it and frowned. "Why did you do that?" he demanded. "The Hippogriff was coming for me. You didn't have to get in the way. Now everyone thinks it was you. You should have said it was Zabini who insulted it, you just got in the way."

Oh. That.

Draco sat back in the bed and shrugged. "Can't," Draco said. "Not that I wouldn't love to rat that little weasel out and get me off the hook, but Zabini's mother and my father do business with each other. He'll kill me if I get her son in trouble, upsetting the mother."

Nott nodded. "Ahh, I see. But that doesn't explain why you took a Hippogriff for me."

Draco frowned. "What's it to you, just be happy you're not the one in a sling."

Then Nott did this thing with his eyes, frowned or something. And Draco couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it felt so familiar. Like he'd been experiencing these frowns for years, and something about it made him feel like talking. "Alright, fine. Remember the Dementor on the train?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, you helped me out and I don't like being in anyone's debt. So consider my debt repaid." He turned over in his bed so he wasn't facing Nott anymore. Draco wasn't about to admit that he'd done it on instinct. How pathetic would that sound?

"That's it?" Nott's voice sounded surprised.

"That's it," Draco confirmed.

Nott was silent for a moment. "No," his voice sounded firm. "I wasn't really saving you then, I was just trying to get the Dementor away. Seeing it feeding on you kind of woke me up. That's what happened. I'm the one who owes you."

Draco groaned. "What is it with you people and wanting to pay me back double?" he said, thinking about Potter's misconception that he was in his debt. Draco didn't like being responsible for anyone's life except his own and Hermione's. That was what was important to him.

Then there was a sound and the two boys froze.

"Someone's coming," Nott said quietly. "I better go. I'll see you in Divination."

Draco turned back to him and smirked. "Yeah."

When he was gone, Draco sat back and contemplated what just happened.

He wasn't really that surprised by Nott wanting to pay him back. For as long as Draco knew Nott, he'd always been ridiculously fair - always paying back his debts.

So that didn't really surprise him. What surprised him was how comfortable Draco had felt talking to Nott. It was as if they'd been best friends for years. And that afternoon with the Hippogriff, Draco didn't understand what happened. He just saw it coming for him and without even thinking, threw himself in front of it - to save Theodore Nott.

Why?

Suddenly the curtains rustled again and Draco sat up, thinking it was Nott again, suddenly very cautious, when the curtains spread to reveal Hermione.

He went quiet.

Crap.

He looked away with a cold look, not wanting to reveal the turmoil that was going on inside him. "Look if you're here to go on at me about the Hippogriff then—"

"Oh stop it, Draco," she snapped, her arms crossed over her chest. "I know it wasn't you!"

Draco's mouth fell open. "What?" seemed to be the only thing he could say. He hadn't been expecting this.

"I was on my way here, to give you a piece of my mind, when I overheard an interesting conversation between you and Nott."

Draco groaned. Oh. That.

"Of all the foolish and stupid things to do, why would you throw yourself in front of a Hippogriff?"

That's what Draco was wondering too.

He shrugged. "I don't know. It just happened."

"I understand why you can't tell people it was Zabini who did it, but you need to tell people it wasn't you," she insisted.

"So who did it then? A magical invisible voice? Someone had to goad the Hippogriff, Hermione," Draco explained. "It can't be Zabini and no one will ever believe it was Nott or Pansy. Nott doesn't care enough and Pansy's an idiot. I'm the best solution."

She frowned. "But now everyone thinks you're a spoilt selfish prat," she said. "I thought you were at fault too. I can't believe I doubted you"

Then Draco understood why she was so angry. It wasn't him, it was her. She was angry with herself for not believing in him straight away. Somehow he wasn't too bothered about the fact that she blamed him, he knew she would. It bothered him more that she was beating herself up over it. He mock punched her arm. "Hey, it's alright, I am a prat," he grinned.

Hermione sniffed and smiled. "Yeah, you are. But you're my prat and I shouldn't have doubted you."

Draco felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest. He felt pathetic, but he couldn't stop himself.

Hermione's eyes softened as she reached out and touched his arm. "Does it hurt?"

"Nah," he said. "There's a numbing potion. Got hurt much worse than this with the basilisk last year."

She laughed. "I still can't believe you and Harry actually worked together for once. I really wish I wasn't petrified. I would have given anything to see that."

At that Draco went sombre and he grimaced. "Don't remind me about that," he snapped; he didn't like thinking about that time.

She smiled. "Have I ever told you how happy it made me to think you fought a basilisk for me?"

"Only about a dozen times. Now, Hermione, don't take this the wrong way, but please don't bring me any homework while I'm here."

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Hermione didn't like the idea of not saying anything about what really happened, but Draco insisted. After visiting him she met Harry and Ron outside the Gryffindor common room and they all decided to go and see Hagrid, to cheer him up.

But it was torture to listen to Ron harping on about how it was all Malfoy's fault, so many times she wanted to shout out 'It wasn't his fault!' but only her loyalty kept her silent about the fact that all he'd actually done was save his friend.

But truthfully, Hermione couldn't really dispute Ron for what he was saying. When Hermione saw the scene of Draco on the floor with a bleeding arm and Buckbeak going crazy the first thing she'd thought was, 'Draco! What've you done now?'

She hadn't even given him the benefit of the doubt, she'd just let the crowd influence her and she hated herself for it. Didn't she always boast to herself that she knew him best and now this? Draco hadn't seemed too angry though, he only seemed worried about her, and that only made her feel worse. Draco was actually very sweet sometimes. He hated it when she said so, and she had a suspicion that he was only that way with her, but she knew him.

On Thursday he was fit to leave the hospital wing but was not allowed to remove the cast. Harry and Ron suspected that it was all him keeping it on to try to get Hagrid fired. But Hermione knew that Draco didn't care at all about Hagrid. He had no interest in getting him fired.

They were in a Potions lesson when he just strolled in like he was at home and sat down in the only seat left, the one a little next to her.

Pansy Parkinson sidled up to him and clutched his good arm. "How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy Parkinson. "Does it hurt much?"

Hermione watched the scene, a little annoyed. It irritated her, seeing Pansy hanging all over him.

"Yeah," he said and as she sighed he turned and winked to Crabbe and Goyle. She growled under her breath. Why had she even been worried? It seemed he was just fine.

"Settle down," Snape called and Hermione huffed. If she or Harry had walked in this late then they would not have gotten a simple 'Settle down."

Draco spotted her and gave a small smile. She almost returned it, till she saw Pansy trying to hold his hand under the table, and turned her head away.

They were making a shrinking solution today. Hermione had read up on it during the holidays and knew it by heart. Just as she was getting the ingredients out she noticed Draco came and planted his cauldron right next to hers so they were sharing the same table.

Still annoyed, she ignored him.

"Sir," he suddenly called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm—"

"Granger, help Malfoy cut his roots," Snape called without looking up. Hermione huffed and took his roots and began to cut them quickly.

"Whoa, easy, Hermione," Draco said quietly. "Don't mutilate them."

She sighed, trying to control her temper and began to cut them more carefully.

"What did I do this time," he said jokily.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she huffed.

"Oh come on," he replied, adding the crushed dried earthworm larva to his cauldron. "I know you're angry with me, I just don't get why. As far as I'm concerned, I haven't done anything, yet. Can you do this shrivelfig too? I can't really skin it with one arm."

She sighed and handed him his roots. "Why didn't you ask Pansy Parkinson for help? I'm sure she'd be delighted to help her Drakie-poo."

He shuddered. "Don't call me that! Sheesh, you're on fire today. If I didn't know better I'd say you were jealous or something."

Hermione almost cut herself skinning the fig as she choked. "I most certainly am not jealous!" she exclaimed, earning a few weird looks.

Draco smirked, but it was mostly just for effect, she could tell. When people weren't looking he said quietly, "I never said you were. Calm down 'Mione, you're causing a scene," and then he flinched as he tried to move his bad arm to reach the shrivelfig.

Hermione's heart spiked at the sight.

What happened? Why did she let her annoyance get in the way of her reason? He was hurt for crying out loud. Did she forget that? She sighed and placed the fig where he could reach it. "Look I'm sorry," she said. "I've just been having a rough day."

He didn't smile, because that would have been too obvious, but when Snape had passed he did give a little nod.

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As Draco went to put his leftover ingredients away he overheard Potter and another Gryffindor discussing Sirius Black. "Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?" he called.

"Yeah I am," Potter said, offhandedly.

Draco smirked. "Of course, if it was me," he said quietly, "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy. I'd be out there looking for him. If it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself." He was referring to how Sirius Black was condemned for being the one who betrayed the Potters to Voldemort.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Weasley demanded roughly while Potter looked confused.

Draco's eyes widened. "You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?" Potter questioned, but before Draco could answer, Snape called everybody around to experiment on Longbottom's toad.

Draco wasn't paying attention as he looked around the classroom. Where had Hermione gone?

When the lesson finished (Longbottom's toad's leg shrunk to the size of a doll and had to be taken to the infirmary) Draco noticed her running up the corridor, one hand holding books, the other tucking something into her robes.

What the heck?

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The first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson began with a giant wardrobe at the front of the class and no teacher for a good ten minutes, before he finally arrived. Draco realised he was the new teacher from the train, the one with the chocolate and shrank back, not wanting to be singled out.

He smiled at the class and Draco was hit with a sudden feeling of nostalgia.

"Good afternoon," Professor Lupin said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

And then he asked them what was in the wardrobe.

For some reason, something immediately came to mind. "A Boggart," he whispered and sure enough Lupin explained. "Nothing to worry about, there's a Boggart in there."

Then he went on to elucidate about Boggarts, about their habitats and so on and with input from Hermione, they learned that Boggarts were shape shifters - they assumed the form of whatever frightens the person in front of them the most. Draco already knew this. How he knew this, he did not know. Perhaps Hermione had told him or something?

Then Lupin pulled Longbottom from the crowd and asked him what frightened him the most.

When the oaf replied, "Professor Snape," Draco didn't know whether to laugh or scowl.

It got better when Lupin instructed Longbottom to imagine Snape in his grandmother's clothes. As much as Draco respected his godfather, this was something he had to see.

"If Neville is successful," Lupin called out. "The boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical..."

That threw Draco for a loop. What scared him?

He thought about Hermione petrified. But he didn't want the boggart to turn into that! It would blow their whole cover. What if it turned into a basilisk? Then everyone would know that he went to the chamber of secrets.

When the line was formed, Draco moved to the very back, desperate for more time. He was so concentrated on figuring out something to scare him that wouldn't get him into trouble; he'd missed Snape in a dress.

What was that boggart going to turn into?

Draco thought very hard. What scared him?

Then suddenly, an image passed before his eyes. The same one as when the Dementor was going at him. Flashes of green light, that hopeless emptiness, bodies thrown upon a pile like ragdolls in a child bedroom.

He blinked and the images were gone. What the hell?

But then he was distracted as a chill filled the room.

The boggart had stopped in front of Potter and had turned into a Dementor. No wonder.

Draco shuddered, clutching his head from the images threatening to break through and stepped as far away as possible.

Then Professor Lupin leapt foreword and the Dementor turned into a silver ball hovering above him in the air. "Riddikulus!" he cried and the ball tuned into a balloon that whizzed around the classroom and then back into the wardrobe.

The clock chimed and the lesson drew to an end. Draco tried to not show how pleased he was that the Dementor hadn't found him, or that he hadn't gotten his turn.

He dreaded to think what it would have turned into.

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The next day, Draco was scanning the library on a book to help write his History of Magic essay when he heard a cough behind him.

He whirled round; his wand whipped out and held out, ready to attack. Then saw it was only Nott. He sighed and lowered his wand. He didn't question his speedy reaction, as he was slowly becoming used to these weird changes.

Nott seemed to think the same thing as he raised his eyebrows in question but wisely said nothing. "Put that thing away," he said calmly.

"Nott," Draco said. "Sorry, I guess I don't like to be sneaked up on."

When Nott didn't leave, he frowned. "What?"

"So I've been thinking," Nott said, "about what I could do to settle our debt, you know, about the Hippogriff."

Draco sighed. "Don't worry, I said it before, just forget about it."

"Can't," Nott said simply. "So I was thinking, Dementors."

Draco scowled. "What about them."

"You hate them."

Draco shuddered, he didn't like the weird non-memories they gave him. "I don't hate them."

"I saw you in defence yesterday, you were really freaked out. But like Professor Lupin said, Dementors are attracted to pain, and that one on the train just went for you. So with them hovering all around the school, there's always a possibility they'll see you and try again."

"Get to the point, Nott," Draco snapped.

"I'll teach you the Patronus charm," Nott said. "It's a charm that repels Dementors specifically. Remember the falcon thing I did before? You could do that too."

Draco was about to walk off when the proposition suddenly interested him.

Maybe he should take Nott up on this deal. After all, learning how to repel Dementors looked like a valuable skill.

He looked at Nott and then it hit him. Draco trusted him. Something inside him was telling him that he could trust Nott. Draco couldn't understand it. He'd known Nott for years but he'd never felt like this before.

"So, we have a deal?"

Draco looked down at his hand. Then, without thinking, he gripped it.

It felt comfortable and familiar and made the decision all the more easier.

"Yeah, it's a deal."

Short chappie, I know, but it felt right to leave it here.

I know I used the movie version of the boggart scene, but the book scene didn't have the Dementor actually manifesting. Every now and again I will be switching between the movie and the book like in this one. I hope that's okay.

Sorry to people who wanted Draco to be treated as a hero for saving Nott, but as he explained, he can't. Plus, him as a hero would ruin his image too much and he'd hate that.

As you've probably realised, Draco isn't going to have much do with the Sirius Black plot, he's got his own problems to worry about.

Please review lots and lots!