DREAMS OF GREY

By Mizuki

Chapter Nine

'You're making the right decision, Miss Granger,' said Professor McGonagall on Saturday morning. Hermione didn't answer, nodding instead, not wanting the other witch to know how unhappy she was with making the right decision. It had taken her half the previous night and most of the morning to decide which classes to drop, and she still wasn't entirely sure.

'Now, tell me what is your career of choice and I will tell you which N.E.W.T.s are necessary to achieve it.'

Hermione pondered the question for a moment, before venturing tentatively. 'I was thinking of working at the Ministry of Magic... now that it's not so corrupt anymore.'

Professor McGonagall nodded. 'What Department?'

'I'm not really sure... I would like to make some changes, mostly involving the rights of magical creatures... But I don't know where would I be able to do that.'

The older witch frowned. 'Well, the only Department dealing with them is the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but you would need a Care of Magical Creatures N.E.W.T. to get there.'

Hermione grimaced. 'That's not what I had in mind. I don't want tocontrol them, but show everyone that they have rights, just like witches and wizards.'

Professor McGonagall pushed her glasses up her nose. 'Miss Granger, you realize that achieving your goal would be not only extremely difficult, but also quite dangerous?'

'Dangerous?' Hermione gasped.

'Yes. The wizarding world does not like changes. There are many wizards who would do anything to preserve things as they are. And you have to remember that even though You-Know-Who is dead, there is no shortage of dark wizards in Great Britain.'

Hermione pursed her lips. 'But I can't let it stay the way it is!'

Professor McGonagall smiled at her. 'I am not trying to stop you, I'm just informing you of the dangers. I also think that the perfect place for you would be the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.'

Hermione nodded. 'Yes, I was thinking about that, as well.'

'Good. As for your N.E.W.T.s... History of Magic and Arithmancy are an absolute requirement, for general knowledge about the wizarding world and logical thinking respectively. Ancient Runes will also come in handy, because some of the older wizarding law texts are written or protected by runes. Other than that, you are free to choose which classes to take and which to quit.'

'I... I decided to drop out of Potions and Herbology,' she said in a tight voice. 'I think I already know enough of them for every day use...'

Professor McGonagall surprised her by snorting. 'I would say definitely more than every day use, Hermione. I distinctly remember Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape mentioning something about a Polyjuice Potion during your second year.'

Hermione tried to fight down the blush, but didn't succeed. 'I... uh...'

'No matter,' the professor waved her hand in dismissal. 'However, I would like you to consider dropping a third class. This would further reduce your workload and you would be able to focus on your most important exams, meaning Arithmancy, History of Magic and Ancient Runes.'

Hermione ducked her head. She'd known it would come to that, but what she was about to do made her feel even worse about the whole thing than she already did.

'I think... I think that I will quit Defense Against the Dark Arts,' she said in a small voice. 'I have already learned all I need to know about defending myself...'

'That's a wise decision, my dear,' Professor McGonagall commented with a warm smile. 'I am glad that you changed your mind, though I'm very curious about what has prompted that change.'

Hermione froze and then flushed in a sudden realization that it had been Malfoy who made her decide. Of all the people in her acquaintance it had been him who, with several well-said words, made her see the error in her thinking. She didn't know whether to be grateful or enraged.

'I finally realized that I was wrong,' she said evasively. She couldn't very well tell the professor that she'd been secretly going to Malfoy's tent to study, could she?

'As I said, I am very glad that you did. And now I think you should head to see Professor Hagrid. You'll find a surprise waiting there for you.'

Bemused, Hermione said her goodbyes and went straight to Hagrid's.

Draco was working alone and the fact didn't worry him in the slighest. Ever since coming here he'd embraced the advantages of being alone in a situation where there simply weren't any worthy companions. It was better to keep to himself than to socialize with those two idiots – who had become instant best friends, which was even more off-putting than their lack of intelligence – or with Sally the bitch, whose only idea of entertainment was belittling him.

He was therefore unpleasantly surprised when he heard footsteps behind him. He gritted his teeth and pretended not to notice, wanting nothing more than for whoever it was to leave.

'Malfoy,' he heard and his resolve crumbled instantly.

He whirled around, only to come face to face with none other than Saint Potter.

'Potter,' he sneered. 'What the hell are you doing here?'

The other man regarded him levelly. His black hair was unruly, as always, the glasses on his nose were still as dorky as ever, and on his forehead there was the same lightening bolt scar. But some things had changed, thought Draco in dawning realization. The scar was no longer angry red, but faded to a dull pink, just like Draco's Dark Mark. And those green eyes that watched him from behind round spectacles were also quite different. Draco saw all that in less than a second and felt a sickening sensation in his stomach. A feeling of... of kinship.

'Ron and I came to visit Hermione,' he answered simply and whatever weird thing Draco was feeling vanished at the mention of Granger. Was Weasley with her, right now? His stomach reacted with an angry version of the flip-flop.

'So what do you want from me?' he snarled, furious and confused.

Potter frowned. 'I don't really know. I guess I wanted to talk to you.'

'Talk?' Draco cried incredulously. 'What about? Maybe you're here to gloat?'

'I don't gloat, Malfoy,' Potter said, visibly irritated. 'And why would I, anyway?'

Draco snorted. 'Potter, don't even pretend you aren't pissing yourself with laughter at seeing me work my arse off the Muggle way.'

Potter shook his head. 'You don't see me laughing, do you?'

'I would,' Draco shrugged.

'Not everyone's like you, you know.'

'Oh, really? What's that, Potter? Some sort of psychological pep talk?'

'No,' he said in a tight voice. 'Actually, I came here because I wanted to call a truce.'

Draco was struck momentarily speechless.

'There's still a lot of bad blood between us,' Potter continued. 'You owe me a life debt, and I owe one to your mother... I don't pretend to like you and I don't expect you to start liking me, but I think we can come to an understanding.'

Draco stood there, sweating in his dark wizarding robes, with Potter in his Muggle T-shirt and shorts, thinking that perhaps, despite their appearance, Potter was the more mature person. And that it was the first time that he'd allowed himself to see the real Harry Potter behind the 'Boy Who Lived' façade.

'You don't owe anything to my mother anymore,' he said finally, surprised at how strong and confident he sounded. 'You've paid that debt by saving us from Azkaban.'

Potter stared at him impassively. Feeling a mortified blush rise in his cheeks, Draco looked away.

'And I will pay my own debt to you someday,' he continued seriously. 'Just you wait, Potter.'

There was a long moment of silence. Draco felt Potter's eyes on him and decided to face him. The other man's expression was somber.

'Well then,' he said, nodding, before holding out his hand.

Time stood still as Draco looked at Potter's oustretched arm, remembering a moment from a lifetime ago, the first moment when he'd truly felt rejected by someone, the moment he'd decided to hate Potter for all eternity.

I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.

His head was pounding as he slowly reached out and shook Potter's hand, the handshake hot and clammy from sweat and dirt. Their eyes locked for a second and Draco had an irrational feeling that this was something momentuous, something wildly important, like a turning point in his life...

And then Potter withdrew his hand, nodded to him and left, padding away in his trainers.

Draco watched him go until he disappeared behind a row of trees and only then did he allow himself to lose his composure.

He sat down on the ground and laughed.

'Ron!' Hermione cried in surprise before she was pulled into a bear-hug, her face suddenly pressed against his T-shirt. His arms encircled her tightly, as if afraid to let go.

'I missed you,' he said into her hair. Hermione felt something snap inside of her chest and she clung to him, breathing him in, enjoying his warmth.

They heard Hagrid cough uncomfortably from the other side of the hut and Ron hastily stepped away, his hand falling from her shoulders to grasp her fingers. Smiling sheepishly, he led her to the table.

'So, how have you been?' he asked, still not letting go of her hand.

The wonderful feeling of happiness at seeing him here suddenly evaporated, replaced by fear and regret. Should she tell him the truth? Or should she lie?

'I've been... okay, I think.' Ron nodded, not noticing the catch in her voice. She continued. 'A bit tired and stressed out, though.'

'No wonder, you're taking eight N.E.W.T. classes!'

She started. 'Er... Actually, I've just dropped out of three.'

Ron's eyes widened. 'You've what?!'

She looked away. 'I couldn't manage to prepare for eight N.E.W.T.s, after all... Professor McGonagall convinced me to give up on some of them...'

And another lie to go with her collection, thought Hermione darkly. She wondered briefly how he would react to the fact that she'd been secretly meeting with Malfoy. He'd think something absolutely inappropriate and untrue, probably. Nothing like the professionalism and detachment of their bargain.

When some time passed and Ron didn't answer, she glanced at him, a bit afraid of what she would see. He was gawking at her with a gobsmacked expression.

'Don't look at me like that!' she snapped. 'I didn't want to do that, but there was no other way!'

'Hermione, I thought this would never happen!' he laughed suddenly, catching her off-guard.

'What...?'

'It's brilliant! Finally! The great Hermione Granger, know-it-all and bookworm, has finally become human!'

'Who's become human?' asked a voice from the door. Hermione, too busy being alternatively hurt and furious, didn't even bother to move.

Harry came in, greeted Hagrid with a warm smile and sat at the table next to Ron and Hermione. He shot them quizzical looks.

'So? What human?'

'Hermione grew up from being a know-it-all, mate,' said Ron cheerfully. 'Didn't know she had it in her, actually.'

Hermione bristled and tore her hand away from his. 'This is not funny, Ronald,' she said through gritted teeth. 'Why are you two here, anyway?'

'We wanted to visit you, obviously,' said Harry. 'And invite you to my birthday party on Friday.'

'A birthday party?' Hermione cried in delight, forgetting for a moment about being fed up with Ron. 'But will I be able to go?' She bit her lip worriedly. Being a Hogwarts student, no matter what circumstances, had its disadvantages – and one of them was being confined to the castle for the entire duration of the course.

'Of course you will,' said Ron, grinning wolfishly. 'It's going to be in the Gryffindor common room.'

Hermione's jaw dropped. 'Where?'

Harry smiled, running his hand through his bangs. 'Professor McGonagall agreed to let us hold a small party in Gryffindor tower... Since this will probably be our last contact with Hogwarts for a long time...'

'That's great!' she exclaimed excitedly. 'Ooh, I really can't wait!'

The three of them grinned at each other happily and then Hagrid came with his trademark tea and scones, booming joyous 'how have you beens' and 'how you've growns'. Harry and Ron launched into detailed accounts of what they'd been up to for the last few weeks. Ron's was much more elaborate than Harry's, as he'd had all sorts of little adventures at Weasley Wizarding Wheezes together with George and Lee Jordan; Harry was for the time being staying at Grimmauld Place, pampered by Kreacher, bored out of his skull and enjoying his vacation before his Auror training was due to commence.

Hermione listened to them with a warm feeling in her chest. She was still a bit bothered that they had decided against finishing their Hogwarts education, but those awful three weeks without them made her realize how much she missed their presence. Without the Quidditch talk, Ron's sweetness and inconsiderate comments, and Harry's quiet maturity she had nothing to concentrate on but herself and her studies. The former turned her into an overanalysing weirdo in serious need of anti-depressants and the latter into a friendless swot. No matter how you looked at it, that was too much of a combination for her to handle.

Therefore she was really grateful that they were here. It was a pretext to spend her Saturday without books.

After their visit to Hagrid, the boys decided to go to the Gryffindor common room to meet with Dean and Neville. Hermione led the way, with the two of them falling behind and arguing about some insignificant detail about one of the Weasley Wheezes. She recited the password to the Fat Lady, who gave Harry a bright smile, and they entered.

The fifth year girls were sitting together on the sofas closest to the entrance, so they were the first to notice them. Their conversation hushed to a dumbstruck silence. Finally Patricia Stonehall found her voice.

'It's Harry Potter!' she exclaimed in wonder.

She and her two girlfriends shot to their feet and Harry was immediately swarmed by females.

'Oh, Harry!'

'I'm so glad you defeated You-Know-Who!'

'Will you give me an autograph?'

'Please, please write something in my diary! I'll show it to my grandchildren!'

'Oi!' cried Ron indignantly. 'Remember he's already taken!'

The blackhaired girl Hermione still didn't know shot him a dark look. 'We're not talking to you,' she snapped.

'I'm not giving out autographs,' Harry said firmly. 'Sorry.'

A collective dissapointed gasp echoed in the common room. Hermione bit her lip to keep herself from saying some choice words about how stupid they were acting. She had to live here for another month, she couldn't afford to be making anymore enemies within the Gryffindor Tower.

Dean and Neville, who had been sitting further back by the cold fireplace and enjoying the scene, now waved them over.

After exchanging greetings and updating each other about their lives, the five of them settled for a friendly game of Exploding Snap. Ron gave everyone samples from the shop, gathered some orders for the birthday party, for which everyone from Gryffindor was obviously invited. There were some close calls, but fortunately neither Neville nor Dean mentioned her spectacular outburst during Ancient Runes, for which she was eternally grateful. She wasn't very keen on explaining the situation to Ron, who would either start calling her mental or demand that she drop out of school completely. Or, which was the worst scenario really, he would stop talking to her because she was keeping such important secrets from him. And that would be, if she wanted to be honest with herself, absolutely understandable. She felt guilty for being that way with him, but she simply couldn't bring herself to open up. She knew she should – had to, really – but just couldn't do it. Everytime she tried either he started to talk about something else, or the moment wasn't quite right, or she was afraid that he would think badly about her or other such nonsense.

Maybe she just wasn't good enough? Maybe Ron would be better off without her, after all? Who was she, really? A bossy, unattractive bookworm who always managed to do and say the wrong thing. Why did Ron and Harry like her, anyway? Probably because they were so used to her now that it would be weird if she wasn't nearby.

She shook her head, finally noticing the direction her thoughts were taking. Fortunately no one had noticed her slip into a self-pity session, all of them too busy laughing and having fun. She smiled half-heartedly for the rest of the evening, and when Harry and Ron left, she went to her dormitory feeling hollow inside.

Draco tapped his fingers on the table with impatience, glaring at his so-called dinner, which had appeared about two hours ago. He shot an angry glance at his pocket watch – it read almost nine o'clock – and, no longer thinking clearly, took the plate and smashed it and its contents on the floor. The porcelain crashed pitifully into pieces and the sandwiches fell on the ground, immediatelly covered in dirt. Draco, a bit sobered up by the noise, looked at the mess he'd made and slumped defeated into his chair.

What was happening to him? Was this situation really calling for such strong emotions?

Yes, Granger had wronged him. Hell, she completely violated the rules of their bargain. Instead of bringing his dinner, as was agreed, she was spending quality time with her two boyfriends.

His stomach and chest were clenched with fury. Who was she to ignore him? She should have at least told him she wasn't coming! He wouldn't had had to spend two humiliating hours waiting for her!

Her choice of company infuriated him even more. Potter with his stupid Muggle shoes and weird, ancient eyes... And Weasley! The thickheaded weasel with his too-small clothes and too-red hair, whose anguished cries of "Hermione!" still echoed in Draco's mind...

He closed his eyes, trying not to remember that moment, trying to keep the image of Granger sprawled on the floor out of his head. She'd looked so pitiful then, so broken, screaming and trashing under the Cruciatus... He recalled the sick feeling that had penetrated his mind, how impressed he'd been when she'd managed not to spill all of her deepest, darkest secrets... How futile had his earlier efforts not to expose them been in comparision to her bravery...

He shook himself out of his stupor, coming back to the present. It was absurd to think about it, to be angry at Weasley for being the one who had taken her out of there, for being the one who had acted, who hadn't been a helpless little shit. It was also absurd to be upset about the fact that it was Weasley who was with her right now. It did not make sense at all to feel this way.

He glanced at his destroyed dinner, took out his wand and cleared it all away with a single wave. It did not matter anyway. He'd lost his appetite.

A/N:Hello everyone... I'm very sorry for the long absence... My only excuse is that I've started university and I no longer have so much free time... Besides, this was kind of a difficult chapter to write. Not much happened and I had to struggle with Ron and Harry, and I'm not exactly sure that I managed to pull it off... But I still hope you enjoyed it:D

Important thing: big thanks go to my beta reader, the wonderful Kazfeist:D She was so nice to check all of the earlier chapters, too, putting up with my coma aversion :P

Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter! You're the greatest:D

Love,

Mizuki