A/N: I got a lot of writing done this weekend. Here's one chapter for you all and the next will be updated later tomorrow. It is going to be a summer chapter, just before the start of year 2. Also, I do not proofread these chapters usually. If anyone would like to offer to be a beta, please do tell. It'd make updates a lot quicker. Thanks
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks
CHAPTER 11: YEAR 1—EXAMS AND GOODBYES
Harry
There was only one place in the entire castle that Hermione could have disappeared to. And yet, when Harry quietly tiptoed into the library and peered around the book shelves, she was still nowhere to be found. Just when he was about to give up, he'd finally spotted her, sitting on the floor behind one of the aisles, large books spread out in front of her.
"Hey," said Harry, taking a seat on the floor next to her. Hermione looked startled and gave him a questioning look. "Can we talk?"
Hermione waited. Harry cut right to the chase.
"Okay look, I know that you overheard us the other night and I was just wondering—"
"—if I told Draco?" said Hermione, casually. Harry nodded. She looked down at her book again. "Yes, I have."
"Well, what did you do that for?!" said Harry, angrily. "Look, just because Ron said you're really annoying—and I have to admit, he's right—you didn't have to go and do that on purpose!"
"I didn't do it because of him, alright?" said Hermione, shooting him a dirty look.
"Yeah right," said Harry.
Hermione glared at him.
"I did it because it was the right thing to do."
"Was not!"
"Was so!"
Madame Pince peered around one of the shelves and glared at them both. Harry sighed and lowered his voice again.
"Look, what I told them is between me and Sirius."
"True, but it also concerns Draco."
"It—" Harry glanced around again and lowered his voice even more. "Okay, yes you're right, in a way. But it's really not any of your business!"
"Look, what's done is done, okay?" said Hermione. "Now will you please go away? I have to study."
Harry glared at her and then jumped to his feet and stalked out of the library. She was so completely, unbelievably stubborn! Perhaps Remus would know what to do.
"I'm sorry, Harry," he said on their next Tuesday lunch. "But if Hermione has chosen to tell Draco, there is nothing more that you can do about it."
"But—"
"If Sirius wants to pursue this connection he has with the boy, it will be his decision—"
"But—"
"—and you can't tell him not to."
Harry sighed heavily. He hated admitting it, but Remus was absolutely right. It was very possible that sometime soon, Sirius would reach out to Draco. And there was nothing Harry could do to stop it. They might become best pals. Draco might steal his godfather from him. But Harry had no right to interfere because they were actual blood relatives, whereas he and Sirius were not. Now he knew how Neville felt, having to share James with him.
"Well?" said Ron when Harry reported back to him that night in the common room.
This time, Harry was sure to check the common room thoroughly. Hermione was always somehow lurking in the shadows. But it was very clear that she was not there tonight. He turned back to Ron.
"Remus said that what's done is done."
"Bloody hell," said Ron, frustrated. "She just had to ruin everything, didn't she?"
"Yeah," Harry agreed, slumping on the couch and sighing.
"So," said Ron, after a moment's silence. "All that stuff about your godfather and Malfoy…" Harry looked up at him. "Well, is that what Dumbledore wanted to talk to you about then?"
Harry nodded.
"What'd he say?"
"He said that I should forgive Sirius ," said Harry. His eyes snapped up to Ron again as he remembered another crucial detail of that meeting. Ron looked puzzled. "Dumbledore also talked to me about Voldemort."
"About You Know Who?!" said Ron. "What about him?!"
Harry leaned forwards.
"He was telling me about how I survived that night—about how me and my parents were able to fight him off. But he didn't really say how it happened. He said I was too young," Ron rolled his eyes, "and that he would one day tell me. And get this: he said that I would one day perhaps 'desperately need this information'."
"What?" said Ron.
"Yeah," said Harry, nodding again.
"Well, what does that mean?"
"I really don't know," said Harry, frowning.
Though, that was not exactly the truth. He himself had danced around many theories on the subject and had ultimately concluded that it must mean that Voldemort could somehow come back someday. Though, even as he sat in front of the fireplace now, brooding over this information, he doubted it was possible. After all, how could he return? Harry and his parents had killed him that night. He was done. Finished. For good. So why then did Harry have a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach now and was even sweating slightly?
The month of May seemed to zoom on by and sooner than later, it was the day of the final Quidditch match—Gryffindors versus Ravenclaws. Harry and Ron were too psyched to eat breakfast and enjoyed the whirl of "You're gonna do great!"'s that they heard from fellow Gryffindors.
"Yeah, good luck!" Neville repeated, over and over again.
Harry could not stop smiling. It was going to be a really good day. Though, as soon as he and Ron reached the changing rooms and heard the people out on the stands cheering, a panic suddenly ensued. For one, Harry's heart was beating rapidly in his chest. His father and Sirius would be out on the stands watching him fly, no doubt comparing whether he was as good as James had been at his age. What if he wasn't? Would they be disappointed in him? Ron seemed to read his mind because he placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled.
"Let's go show them how it's done," he said, echoing Harry's words from their first match.
Harry smiled nervously and followed his teammates out onto the pitch. They were met with a roar of applause and cheers. Some of their audience even began to chant, "Go, go, Gryffindors! Go, go, Gryffindors!" Harry couldn't help but smile. It was really incredible. He couldn't see his father or Sirius anywhere, so that helped quite a bit. Wood took turns patting each of his team members on the back before he soared off into the air and motioned for them to follow him. Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and mounted his broom, following Ron.
As soon as he was in the air, he forgot about everything else. He thought of nothing but the golden snitch that was soon flying around him, making him twist in mad circles just to keep an eye on it. He let the crowd's cheers guide him as to what was going on with the rest of the match and who was scoring points. So far, it looked like Ravenclaw was in the lead, which made Harry very nervous. Nonetheless, he kept his eyes on the snitch and the snitch only. It was very energetic today. About twenty minutes into the match, Gryffindor began to catch up with Ravenclaw, which gave Harry quite a bit of hope. He glimpsed Ron a couple of times throughout the match, and he looked quite ecstatic with all the excitement. Finally, at long last, Harry soared up close to the small golden ball. He stretched out his arm, willed his Comet to fly just a bit faster, and twirled, practically attacking the ball in the air.
It happened very quickly. As his feet landed on the ground with a light thud, he watched an enormous crowd race its way towards him, positively deafening him with its cheers. But he expelled it from his mind for he could now see two people running across the field towards him. As soon as they'd reached him, they picked him up on their shoulders and began to run around the field, shouting "POTTER! POTTER! POTTER!". The Gryffindor players trotted after them, as did several other students from the stands. Harry could not stop smiling as James and Sirius held him in the air and continued to run around madly.
The excitement of the Quidditch match carried on through the rest of the week. Harry and Ron had become increasingly popular when they won Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup. Now all that was left was to procure the House Cup and they were golden. However, they had to put all the excitement aside when Neville slapped two thick books on the table in front of them one night in the common room.
"Exams start next week!" he exclaimed. "You ought to study, guys."
Harry and Ron groaned in unison but each grabbed a book and carelessly flipped through some pages.
"History of Magic is a stupid subject," said Ron, frustratingly. Harry smirked as he flipped through Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and yawned theatrically.
"Tell that to the Headmaster, why don't you?" said Neville.
"Oy, you don't have to be such a nerd!" said Seamus suddenly.
Ron smirked.
"M-me?" said Neville.
"Yeah, you!" said Seamus.
"I'm not a nerd," said Neville, slowly.
"You are always studying," Dean pointed out.
"What else does he do?" Seamus asked him.
"Not much," said Dean.
"Oy, stop it, you two!" said Harry. "Neville does plenty other things, thanks."
Ron nodded vigorously.
"Oh yeah?" said Dean, crossing his arms now. "Like what?"
Harry and Ron blinked.
"Well," said Harry slowly.
"You know," said Ron.
But neither of them could think of anything to defend Neville with.
Seamus' and Dean's smirks were widening, and Harry knew that if he didn't come up with something fast, they'd win.
"Neville is a kind and caring friend!" cried out a voice from somewhere in the back.
The boys turned round just in time to see Hermione marching up to them and stopping at Neville's side.
"He has been helping me all year," Hermione declared, "Because some people in this castle find it funny that I am muggle-born."
"Oy!" said Ron, suddenly. Hermione met his eyes. "You don't have to come running to Neville's defense. After all, we're his friends—not you."
"I am also his friend, Ronald!" exclaimed Hermione.
"Right!" laughed Ron.
"Tell him, Neville!" Hermione demanded.
"Well," said Neville, slowly, though it went completely unnoticed by Ron and Hermione, who both had their arms crossed now.
"You ought to be a bit nicer to people, Hermione, or you'll be hated by every one of your housemates!"
"I am not hated by anyone!"
"Oh yes you are! You lost us more house points this year than anyone else!"
Hermione looked around the silent room and then found Ron again. Her eyes were now full of tears.
"Well fine!" she sobbed. "I suppose I'll go and ask the Headmaster to give me another sorting!"
And with that, she ran out of the common room, weeping. Everyone's eyes were now on Ron, who stared, not knowing what to say.
"You know you have to apologise to her, don't you, Ron?" said Neville afterwards, when the others had gone to bed and the three of them were sitting by the fireplace again.
Ron gave a slight shrug but looked worried in spite of himself.
The next day, Harry, Ron, and Neville were leaving the Charms classroom to go to lunch when someone down the corridor shouted, "Oy, Weaslebee!"
Ron looked round and found none other than Draco Malfoy storming at him. He took a step backwards, but Harry remained rooted to the spot. He hadn't spoken to or acknowledged Draco in what must have been months.
"You going to apologise to Hermione anytime soon?" Malfoy demanded.
Ron stared at him.
"Well?" said Malfoy, his eyes lingering on Harry for a split second before they were glaring at Ron again.
"I suppose?" said Ron, shrugging innocently.
"Well you'd better," said Malfoy. "Because you'll answer to me if you don't, got it, Weaslebee?!"
"Oooo," said Fred and George together, who had stopped in the middle of the corridor to observe the scene with the other surrounding students. "Ronny, you've got a rival!"
"Shut up!" Ron snapped at them but they began to laugh and therefore didn't hear him.
Ron turned to look at Malfoy angrily.
"You—" he began, but Harry grabbed his arm to stop him.
Malfoy's eyes now landed on him.
"Something you want to say, Potter?" he demanded.
Harry simply shook his head. Malfoy raised an eyebrow.
"No taunts? No stupid remarks? Nothing?"
"No," answered Harry.
It took all his willpower not to say something foul to Malfoy. But he knew that it was not a good idea to get into any fights now. It was better to just let him be. But Malfoy did not seem to agree because he suddenly smirked.
"Black must have taught you good manners," he said, in a low voice, before turning round and stomping off.
Harry stared after him until Ron started to pull him from the hall. They walked in silence past the Great Hall, neither of them feeling hungry at all. When they finally reached Gryffindor tower, Ron turned to look at Harry.
"You don't think I should apologise, do you, Harry?" he said, in an almost desperate voice.
Harry shrugged.
"I dunno. I suppose it couldn't hurt."
"But do I have to?" whined Ron.
Harry smiled slightly and then gave a jerk of the head that meant yes. Grunting, Ron gave the portrait of the Fat Lady the password and climbed on inside. Harry however, decided to go down to the library. Something gave him the feeling that Hermione would be there. And he was quite right. She was sitting in one of the corner tables by herself, head bent over a very large book.
"Hey," said Harry, taking a seat beside her and moving her stuff to another side of the table.
Hermione looked very startled.
"What?" said Harry, raising his eyebrows.
"You just let yourself take a seat and move my things without asking, don't you?" she accused. "You have absolutely no manners!"
"Hey, that's not fair," said Harry, lifting his hand so that she wouldn't interrupt. "You were nosing in on my mail a few months ago, if I remember correctly. And you have been listening in on all of our conversations this whole year. Talk about having no manners."
Hermione opened her mouth to say something but then closed it again. Harry glanced at the books she was studying and made a mental note that he should probably start studying himself.
"Did you hear about what happened just now?" he asked, conversationally. Hermione looked up at him with a questioning look. "About you know… your little pal Malfoy storming at Ron."
"He did what?!" said Hermione.
"You didn't know?" said Harry. Hermione shook her head impatiently. "He told him that he'd better apologise to you or he'll be answering to him."
For a split second—just a split one—Harry thought he'd seen a satisfied smile cross Hermione's lips, but it was gone just as quickly and she busied herself with her books again.
"Yeah, so?" she said.
Harry paused.
"How did you two become friends, anyway?"
"We met summer before school started," said Hermione, lazily. "We live very close to each other."
"I see."
"Now, if you don't mind, I really need to concentrate," said Hermione, bitterly.
Harry lifted one of her open books and examined it. She looked like she wanted to protest but decided against it and busied herself with her own book.
"Emeric the Evil is the guy with the jellyfish hat, right?" he asked.
"No," said Hermione, at once. "That was Uric the Oddball. Haven't you opened up Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them at all this year?"
Harry shot her a nasty look.
"I'm trying to be nice here, but you're making it really difficult."
Hermione looked up at him with an extremely puzzled expression, but before she could respond, they were interrupted by a loud cough. Draco Malfoy had arrived at the library as well, and was standing just behind them, his arms crossed, his expression furious.
"Nice of you to join us, Potter," he said, coldly.
Harry rolled his eyes so that only Hermione could see, and jumped up from the table. He left the library without a word to Malfoy, who obviously hated his guts. But it wasn't like Harry wanted to become best friends with him, so he didn't lose any sleep over it.
Ron never did end up apologising to Hermione, but he certainly treated her more nicely. Neville did not hold a grudge against him either so all was well. The boys revised for their exams together and the following week, they wrote them. Harry was somewhat surprised to find out that he'd passed with flying colours. He reminded himself that he should never procrastinate so much in the future, or passing those O. that his mother talked about so much would prove to be extremely difficult.
Sooner than he'd hoped, the Leaving Feast was upon them. Harry and the others were all packed and ready to leave Hogwarts next day. And though Harry loved spending time with his parents and sort of missed his own bedroom, he really didn't want to leave. He attended the Leaving Feast with less than his usual high spirits, as did Ron, who absolutely loved it at Hogwarts.
"Oy Harry," said Ron, when they finally sat down to eat. "Have you told Neville about what Dumbledore told you about—ouch! Why did you kick me?!"
"Later!" Harry hissed.
Neville gave him a questioning look but Harry shook his head. He would of course fill Neville in on everything, but it was not safe to do it here, with all these nosy Gryffindors listening in. Speaking of nosy Gryffindors, Hermione was sitting not too far from her and anything Harry revealed in front of her would no doubt make its way to Malfoy's ears. That was for sure the last thing he wanted to happen.
Halfway into the feast, Professor Dumbledore rose from his Headmaster's chair to make a speech. The hall quieted down instantly and he looked down upon the students with a big smile.
"Another year gone!" he announced. "And it was truly a wonderful year!" The hall applauded. "To our seventh years, we wish the best of luck in future endeavours. To our future first years, we shall provide an excellent welcome come September. And to all the rest, a very happy and safe summer!" The staff applauded to the students. "And now, I believe that the House Cup needs awarding." The hall became silent at once. Everyone was extremely eager to hear the tally of the points. Dumbledore's smile never faltered. "In fourth place, Hufflepuff with 175 points…in third place, Ravenclaw with 205 points…coming in second place with 380 points is Slytherin, and…"
But before Dumbledore could finish, an uproar erupted from the Gryffindor table as everyone jumped from their seats and cheered loudly.
"405 points for Gryffindor!" Dumbledore tried to shout over them but it was useless because they were already shouting their victory for the entire Great Hall to hear.
And so it was with sorrow spirits that Harry made his way over to Hogsmeade station with Ron, Neville and the others next day. As they walked, Harry bid his farewell to his passing friends. Dean and Seamus made him promise to write that summer, though Harry doubted he would. He only really cared about Ron and Neville. When they finally reached the station, Remus caught up with them and helped them load their trunks onto the train. Ron and Neville said goodbye to him and boarded the train while Harry stayed behind to chat.
"You'll come by this summer, won't you?" he said.
"Yes, I hope to," said Remus, smiling.
Nevertheless, Harry gave him a big hug and promised to write. He then spotted Hagrid a little ways down the station and ran up to hug him as well, also promising to write.
"It's been really great watchin' you go through yer first year here, Harry," said Hagrid, sobbingly. "They grow up so darn fast!"
"It's okay, Hagrid," said Harry, whose glasses were now being crushed by Hagrid's enormous hug. "I'll be back next year and I'll write a lot this summer, I promise!"
"And I will too!" said Hagrid. "Ye didn't think I forgot yer birthday is comin' up, did ye?"
Harry beamed up at him.
"Okay, go on, go on," said Hagrid, sniffling.
Harry waved goodbye to him and then ran to catch the train which was already starting to leave. He poked his head out the window and waved again to Hagrid and to Remus, who was now standing next to him. When they were already in the distance and very hard for Harry to see, he went about searching for Ron's and Neville's compartment. When he finally found it, he sat across from Ron and smiled at the window, watching the fields move.
"It was a good year, wasn't it?" said Ron.
"Yeah," said Harry, happily. "And something tells me next year will be even better."
Draco
Severus Snape had a talent for making himself invisible whenever someone desperately needed to find him. It made Draco very agitated and he wondered where the man could be disappearing off to. He needed to speak with him urgently but he was simply nowhere to be found. Just perfect.
Draco's mood therefore was definitely not the brightest for the first couple of days of May, and Blaise obviously noticed.
"What's up with you?" he asked over breakfast one day, two weeks into the month.
Draco shook his head and took a gulp of pumpkin juice while trying hard not to concentrate on the fact that Snape's chair up at the staff table was unoccupied again.
"Hey Malfoy, are you okay?" said Crabbe, sweetly.
"Fine," Draco grumbled.
But he was far from fine. In fact, he was as far as one could possibly get. He hadn't slept normally in weeks. And that letter that he'd sent to his mother remained unanswered. Typical. No one around here ever cared to tell him the truth or to explain things to him. Suddenly feeling not up to food, Draco excused himself from the Slytherin table and exited the hall. He meant to go to the Trophy Room—which was his place of refuge every now and then—when he suddenly bumped into a tall figure he'd not seen approaching him.
"Professor Dumbledore, sir," he said, awkwardly, bowing his head. "I'm sorry."
"Not to worry, Draco," said Dumbledore, kindly. "How are you this morning?"
"Fine," said Draco, looking up at the Headmaster and finally noticing that he was not alone.
Standing next to him, Snape looked down at Draco curiously with those jet black eyes of his.
"H-hey," Draco said to him.
"Hello Draco," said Snape, coolly.
"Ah forgive me, I'm intruding," said Dumbledore, suddenly.
"Actually—"
"No, no, Severus, you two need to talk. I'll just go and see Professor McGonagall about that gargoyle on the fifth floor. Good day to you both!"
Draco stared after Dumbledore who looked like he wanted to skip down the hall. He greeted several students passing by quite cheerfully and disappeared into the Great Hall very quickly. Draco turned back to Snape who was still eyeing him with curiosity.
"Something the matter, Draco? You look very odd."
"Can we talk?" said Draco, motioning to an empty classroom.
Snape hesitated, and then followed him inside. He shut the door behind him and watched as Draco took a few more steps and then took a seat at one of the empty tables and put his head in his hands.
"Talk to me," said Snape, suddenly appearing at his side.
Draco looked up at him. Snape looked extremely worried. Draco took a deep breath.
"I know about Sirius Black," he blurted out.
Snape's expression changed to one of extreme confusion.
"What about him?" he said, a minute later.
Draco rolled his eyes.
"I know, Sev," he said. "I know, okay?"
"And what is it that you know exactly?"
Draco frowned.
"I know that Sirius Black is…is my mother's cousin."
Snape's expression did not change at all, as Draco had thoroughly predicted. Of course he'd known about it all along. This was not news to him.
"How can that be?" he asked, shocking Draco all the while.
"W-what do you mean?"
"I mean, how is this possible? And wherever did you hear such a thing?"
"Awe come on!" cried Draco, suddenly jumping from the table and taking a few steps away from Snape. "Don't act like you didn't know! You've known about it all along, haven't you?!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Snape, coolly.
"Right!" laughed Draco. "This is just as news to you as my new Nimbus 2001 was!"
He couldn't quite read Snape's expression now. It was somewhere between sadness, confusion, and satisfaction.
"I promise you that this is the first I've heard of this," he said, finally.
Draco stared at him, trying to decide whether he should believe him.
"Well," he said, frowning again, "Well okay fine then. Explain this: how did you recognise the name as soon as I mentioned it?"
"Because I knew Sirius Black when I was younger," said Snape, coolly. "We went to school together."
"You…you did?"
"Yes."
Snape pulled up a chair and sat down at the desk that Draco had occupied moments before. Draco remained standing where he was.
"Sirius Black was one of my biggest rivals in my days at Hogwarts," began Snape. "He and Potter's father were two of the most arrogant students to prowl these halls in a century—mark my words."
Draco smirked for a split second, and then grew serious again.
"They made my days here miserable," Snape went on. "I absolutely hated them my whole life. So naturally, I have not forgotten their names to this day."
"But," said Draco, taking a few steps towards him now, "How can it be then that he is related to my mother?"
"If your information is correct," said Snape, casually, "Then I assume Black was disinherited by his family when he was younger and therefore remained disconnected to them even in his adult life."
"So mother would be a part of his past then," said Draco, comprehendingly.
"As would he be a part of hers," Snape concluded. "Yes, I can see that happening."
Draco sighed and took the seat across from him.
"I don't understand why mother never told me about him then," said Draco.
"That is a conversation you ought to have with your mother," said Snape, wisely.
"Yeah," muttered Draco.
If only she'd respond, he thought.
When the Quidditch final arrived and the entire school ran out to cheer on the Gryffindors or the Ravenclaws, Draco and Hermione went up to the library to get a bit of studying done, seeing as how their final exams were quickly approaching. It was a fairly productive afternoon, for they got through most of their study material and didn't even need to break. They were extremely focused on doing well and had even created a little competition between the two of them, as to who would score the top marks in the grade.
"It'll obviously be me," said Draco, smartly.
"Oh we'll just see about that, won't we?" said Hermione, smirking.
"Yes, we will!" said Draco.
Things couldn't have been better for them. They'd spent most of the year fighting or worrying about their friendship, but were going to end it on a very good note. This made Draco very hopeful that they would have another fantastic summer together. Well, at least that was a small piece of good news about what awaited him when he returned. Draco sighed. He really didn't look forward to facing his mother, especially now that it had been a whole month and she'd still failed to answer his last, most crucial letter.
A few days later, Draco cleared it up with Hermione so that he could spend a full day with his Slytherin friends. After all, he still wished to keep them around. They were good company. And so he spent the day playing cards with Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle. Marcus also said "Hi" to him every time he passed him in the common room. He had chosen to keep the news of his Nimbus 2001 a secret for the time being, which was a wise choice because Draco doubted Snape wanted all this attention. He was almost regretting the fact that he'd told Marcus who had got him that gift. Oh well.
The day was certainly fun and definitely not regrettable. Though Crabbe and Goyle were pretty stupid, they had their way of making the games fun. And Blaise was extremely competitive in nature, which always made Draco very excited to beat him. By the end of the day, the boys were laughing uncontrollably and feasting on little snacks that they had snuck into the common room from the Great Hall earlier that day.
"Okay," said Blaise, after the laughter had subsided. "I think it's best to call it a night—I'm tired."
"Yeah, me too!" said Crabbe, yawning loudly.
Goyle packed up the cards and followed Crabbe upstairs to the dormitories.
"You coming, Draco?" said Blaise, who'd reached the top of the stairs and turned round to check if Draco was following.
"Yeah," said Draco, slowly. "Yeah, I'll be up in a minute."
"Suit yourself."
Once Blaise had disappeared, Draco ran out of the common room and made his way down the dungeons to say goodnight to Hermione. He wanted her to know that he really hadn't been avoiding her that day. He wanted to know that she wasn't mad at him again. But as he reached Gryffindor Tower however, he bumped into a running, weeping figure in the darkness and fell backwards. So did the figure. Rubbing his head (which he'd hit hard against the floor), Draco stumbled to his feet and squinted in the darkness.
"H-Hermione?" he said, warily.
She blinked at him in the darkness, tears sparkling in her eyes.
"Hey!" said Draco, softly, placing both his hands on her shoulders. "What's happened? Are you okay?"
Hermione shook her head and then pulled him into a tight hug.
"Tell me what's wrong," he said.
After a few moments, her tears subsided and she hiccupped. Draco pulled her aside and urged her to tell him what had happened. And so she told him. And by the time she was finished, a boiling ball of anger had made its way into the pit of Draco's stomach. Hermione had to stop him from lunging up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, where he would surely hex Ron and get a detention.
"It's not worth it!" said Hermione.
Draco finally stopped struggling and then sighed.
"But he made you cry," he said.
"That's alright," said Hermione, shrugging. "I feel much better now that I've talked to you."
Sighing, Draco pulled her into another hug again.
"I promise you—I'll deal with it."
He could feel her shaking her head in protest but he ignored her. There was no way he was going to leave this…absolutely…no…way.
The next day, Draco sat at the breakfast table, glaring at Ron Weasley who was laughing over at the Gryffindor table with Potter. He could not believe that Weasley had said such a hateful thing to his Hermione, and yet he could believe it. After all, it was Weasley and Potter. He'd never expected any less of them. They were just a bunch of arrogant school bullies who had no care in the world besides Quidditch and looking good in front of their peers. Gits.
Draco attended his classes as usual that day and answered "Fine" every time Blaise asked him what was wrong. But the second Potions ended, just before lunch, he ran out of the classroom and raced down the school halls towards the Charms classroom, where he knew the Gryffindors were. He caught them just in time, walking away at the end of the hall.
"Oy, Weaslebee!" Draco yelled loudly so that everyone could hear.
The redheaded boy turned around as Draco began to approach him angrily. Potter looked alarmed as well. All the other students in the hall watched eagerly.
"You going to apologise to Hermione anytime soon?" Draco demanded, but Weasley simply stared at him. Git.
"Well?" said Draco, impatiently.
His eyes lingered on Potter for a split second before they glared at Weasley again. Even though he wanted to focus on the task at hand—for Hermione's sake—he found himself unable to stop thinking about his newfound connection to Potter through Sirius Black. Potter must have thought himself to be so important, knowing such a huge family secret that Draco did not, and Draco wanted nothing better than to rub it in his face that he did know just as much as Potter did.
"I suppose?" said Weasley finally.
"Well you'd better," said Draco, angrily. "Because you'll answer to me if you don't, got it, Weaslebee?!"
Behind the two, a couple of students began to woo at Draco's words and some even laughed.
"Ronny, you've got a rival!" laughed two older Weasleys.
Their brother turned around to say something to them, and as he did, Draco and Potter locked eyes. Then, Weasley turned to look at Draco and even reached for his wand.
"You—" he began, but Potter suddenly grabbed his arm to stop him.
Draco now narrowed his eyes at him.
"Something you want to say, Potter?" he demanded.
He was not afraid of either of them. And he'd really meant what he'd said. If they wanted to bother Hermione, they'd have to answer to him before any teachers got involved. That's for sure. But Potter simply shook his head, causing Draco to raise an eyebrow.
"No taunts? No stupid remarks? Nothing?"
"No," answered Potter.
Draco narrowed his eyes at him again. What was going on inside that little head of his? He had not bothered or even spoken to Draco in months. Was he finally truly bored with the idea of taunting him? Or was he afraid of getting into trouble? The thought was most amusing to Draco, but he managed to stifle a grin. He needed to be taken seriously here.
And then, it hit him. Potter knew that Draco had found out about Sirius Black, didn't he? And he really didn't like the idea of sharing this relative with him. Oh no, he most certainly did not. Now, Draco let the smirk slide across his face, puzzling Potter a great deal. He lowered his voice.
"Black must have taught you good manners," he said, coolly, before turning round and stomping off.
That would show him.
He tried to come up with a good excuse for Blaise as to why he'd run out of Potions so quickly, but soon word got around that he'd threatened Weasley and Blaise was very proud of him.
"You're finally learning how annoying little Gryffindors can be!" he said, patting him on the back.
"Not all of them," Draco reminded him.
Blaise's smile faded a little and he nodded.
"Come on, let's go get lunch."
"Nah, I'm not hungry," lied Draco. "You go on."
The truth was, he really wanted to go and find Hermione—to tell her that he'd taken care of it and that she needn't worry. He ran up to the library the first chance he got and searched for her in between the aisles until he finally spotted her sitting in a little table over in the corner. Though, as Draco approached, he realised that she was not alone. Sitting next to her, reading one of her textbooks, was Harry bloody Potter. Scowling, Draco, hid behind one of the book aisles and listened as Potter said,
"Emeric the Evil is the guy with the jellyfish hat, right?"
"No," said Hermione, at once. "That was Uric the Oddball. Haven't you opened up Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them at all this year?"
Go Hermione. Draco was feeling very proud of her. She didn't need him to defend her after all. She was mighty good at doing that herself. Potter shot her a nasty look.
"I'm trying to be nice here, but you're making it really difficult."
Oh great. He'd just fed on her good conscious. She looked up at him apologetically, and before she could make the mistake of actually uttering an apology, Draco interrupted them with his loud and clear cough. They both turned to face him, standing there with his arms crossed.
"Nice of you to join us, Potter," he said, coldly.
But Potter did not retaliate. Instead, he stood up and walked away without a single word. It was very odd of him. Had he completely lost interest in taunting Draco then?
Draco took the seat Potter had occupied a few seconds before and smiled brightly at Hermione.
"You good?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, smiling back at him.
"Good," said Draco, grabbing the book Potter had touched and scanning it briefly.
"So it was Uric the Oddball then, wasn't it? The guy with the jellyfish hat, I mean," he said.
Hermione chuckled and took the book from him.
"Uric the Oddball is known to have slept in a room containing no fewer than fifty pet Augureys," she read out loud, "During one particularly wet winter, Uric became convinced by the moaning of his Augureys that he had died and was now a ghost. His subsequent attempts to walk through the walls of his house resulted in what his biographer Radolphus Pittiman describes as a "concussion of ten days' duration."
"Wicked," said Draco, nodding along.
"Yes, he was the weirdest wizard of his time," Hermione agreed, placing the book back on the table.
"A medieval wizard, right?"
"That is correct."
Draco nodded. He really liked studying with Hermione. She had a way of keeping him concentrated on the actual material. Otherwise, he'd be spending every free second thinking about Sirius Black and how he was probably the "Blaise's-grandfather" of the family—not necessarily a muggle himself, but definitely a banned member of the family. And in spite of himself, Draco was very curious to find out exactly what Black had done to receive this sort of treatment.
Studying with Hermione had indeed proved to be very smart. Draco happened to ace each and every one of his final exams, passing with top marks. Unfortunately, so had Hermione. So much for their little competition. They'd ended up tying in every single subject. How funny.
Soon, it was time for the Leaving Feast. Draco thought that he'd never wanted to leave a place less. Despite all the drama that had happened that year, he'd loved his time at Hogwarts and really, really, really didn't want to come back home to his drunken father and ignorant mother. At least Hermione would be close by. There was the silver lining at last.
At the Leaving Feast, Professor Dumbledore so blatantly announced that Gryffindor had won the House Cup. The Slytherins groaned, though some of them were pleased to have come in second place.
"Did you hear that they also won the Quidditch Cup?" said Millicent Bullstrode, angrily. "The Gryffindors are always winning everything!"
"Do not worry," said Marcus Flint. "I feel sure that we will win that cup next year."
"Why?" said Pansy Parkinson.
"Oh, just a hunch," said Marcus, and for a short second, he met Draco's eyes and smirked.
"Ugh, I really don't want to go home," said Pansy, suddenly.
"Yeah, me too," muttered Draco.
"Awe, lighten up!" said Blaise, punching his arm playfully. Draco smiled at him and then looked down at his food again. "We'll be back before you even know it. I'm telling you. This summer is going to pass by. I know it."
Across from him, Crabbe and Goyle enthusiastically nodded their agreement. Draco sighed and finished his meal. He knew he ought to—it'd be the last good meal he'd have in two whole months. Although, Hermione always made a point of bringing him food whenever they met up in the meadow. She was truly the best friend he'd ever had.
The next morning, Draco reluctantly brought his things down from his dormitory and exited the common room together with his friends. Just before joining the rest of his classmates on the journey to Hogsmeade station however, he caught up with Snape who was lurking about the Great Hall.
"Well, I'll be going now," said Draco.
"I'll see you here in two months," said Snape, reassuringly.
"Yeah," said Draco, quietly. "See you, Sev."
He didn't bother hugging him. With Draco and Snape, it was not that kind of relationship. Draco had always known it and had eventually accepted it. Though these days, his only hugs were from Hermione. But Slytherin had taught him not to be so sensitive and he found that he really didn't need to be hugged at all. He could live without it. He already had.
When he finally arrived at Hogsmeade Station, he spotted Hermione saying goodbye to that giant called Hagrid. Draco waited for her not too far until she finished saying her goodbye and finally noticed him.
"Hey!" she said, smiling brightly. "Are we riding the train back together?"
Draco paused. He hadn't expected that question, to be honest.
"Um," he said. "Well actually…"
"That's fine," said Hermione. "Really, it's okay."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, absolutely! We'll see each other a lot of the summer and you won't see your other friends until September."
"Yeah, exactly," agreed Draco. "Hey, thanks for understanding."
"Of course," said Hermione, sweetly. "Have a good train ride."
Draco felt immensely guilty but also really grateful that she'd made the nice gesture. He kissed her once on the cheek and then ran off to join his friends who were already in the process of searching for a compartment.
"Not riding with Granger?" said Blaise, smirking.
Draco punched him playfully on the shoulder and then took a seat in the compartment they'd just found. Their train ride back home was no different than the one at Christmastime. They spent it playing games and feasting on all the snacks they could get. Draco of course had no money to buy snacks with, but Blaise took care of that problem immediately. In return, Draco promised to let him try out his "little secret" when he'd bring it to school next year. Blaise looked absolutely ecstatic, though Crabbe and Goyle scratched their heads as to what the little secret could possibly be.
The train ride was very short and extremely uneventful. But when Draco finally got off the train at King's Cross and bid farewell to his friends, he was surprised to find that his mother was not waiting at the end of the station, but rather standing much closer to the train.
"Hey," he said to her when he finally approached her.
She stood there, not knowing what to say to him. Draco stared at her. Had she even gotten the letter at all? Did she even care to write? But Narcissa Malfoy was acting very strange that day. Her expression changed several times and finally she gave him a small, but warm smile. Draco was completely shocked.
"We need to talk," his mother told him. She took his bags and led the way through the magical portal.
"What about?" Draco asked her.
"Not here," his mother told him. "Come on."
"Where to?"
They passed by a few muggles and got into a muggle car.
"We are going to the Leaky Cauldron," said Narcissa, "To talk about your letter."
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