Well I had stopped writing altogether, not just this fic, I have however been inspired to return and found this half written chapter, I'm aiming to wrap this fic up as soon as possible, any requests for the ending let me know, it's all open at the moment x
Lunch Draco sat pointedly at the other end of the Slytherin table then Crabbe and Goyle with some of the seventh years who accepted him because his father and their fathers all had enough money to buy Britain.
The gesture was lost on Hermione however, who sat between wedged between harry and Longbottom, her head buried in a book occasionally comforting a tearful Longbottom.
Oh those FOOLS what were they THINKING? why couldn't they have assaulted some Ravenclaw? Well clearly he was going to have to clean up their mess.
After lunch when he was sure Hermione wouldn't see him he pulled the two neanderthals into an empty corridor.
'Listen what did you thugs do to Longbottom' he sneered. They both started sniggering and nudging each other in glee.
'Juz talked to 'im' Crabbe sniggered like he'd said something incredibly funny.
'I'm serious' Draco groaned.
'Mighta nicked some o' 'is sduff' Goyle relented.
'An messed 'im roun a bit' Crabbe sniggered.
Draco stalked out furious after finding out where the idiots put Longbottom rubbish.
Locating it in their dormitory he repaired what he could and hunted down Longbottom.
Depositing it in his shaking arms he said Crabbe and Goyle were sorry and as an afterthought tipped a few galleons on top of the pile and grinned encouragingly down at Longbottom who just looked up at him in fear.
The rest of the week passed painfully slowly Draco scheduled Quidditch practice every night for hours, even bribing the Ravenclaw captain for the pitch on Wednesday night.
Despite his best efforts the week seemed to drag by, and with so little contact with Hermione, in fact none at all except the occasional furtive glances at her during mealtimes Draco almost began to doubt himself. He was Draco Malfoy, heir to the countless titles and riches of his ancient and pure family, he didn't have crushes.
His mother and father.. well it was unclear whether they were in love, or ever had been for that matter, what they did have was mutual respect and understanding, affection seemed sort of irrelevant in comparison, they held the same values and were both invested in their son, but apart from that their lives were lived fairly separately. They didn't only not share a room as Draco had been shocked to find most married people do, they had their own suite of rooms on either side of the castle, although his father worked in London most of the time anyway.
Was he Draco to break the mould so carefully laid down by his forefathers? Was he to marry for affection not material gain? He shuddered away from the thought, they were after all young, and Draco had never wanted to date a girl before let alone marry one.
But regardless, how could Draco ever make peace with those values? for what did they have? mutual respect? Until a week or so ago they had hated each other, apparently she still did. Trust? She had slapped him not yesterday! The same values? her parents cleaned teeth for lords* sake.
Draco was quite proud of his rational thinking, why he'd just about solved the problem and talked himself out of what was sure to be a humiliating adventure and a fair amount of shame to the family. By smashing his team almost int the quid ditch pitch until they were fighting fit Draco regained some of his old swagger. He once gain went to all of his classes, kept his hand in the illegal quid ditch betting (but not to in that his father couldn't buy him out should they be found out) and although he gave a wide girth to Neville and Luna and every one else in Potters circle (And following his lead so to did Grabbe and Goille).
Draco regarding the now rapid approach of ancient runes with cool indifference and quite some pride about it (the fact it took him an entire week to talk him self into indifference was lost on him)
_._._._
*Lord as in Lord Voldemort not God