Like every other year, Hermione received a lot of books. Naturally, some of them she had already read, but one in particular caught her fancy. It was called The Night Circus, by a Muggle author – she hadn't heard it until that day, but after only a couple of pages she found herself unable to put it down. That's why, when she went out for lunch, it was later than usual. She supposed everyone else would have already eaten, but the book had completely absorbed her attention. Even when she left the Common room, her nose was still stuck in it.
Navigating a building of Hogwarts' scale while reading might prove a challenge for some, but Hermione prided herself in her ability to read while walking. Sure, that quirk might have earned her a few snickers or odd glances, but usually she was too engulfed in her read to mind them.
When she arrived in the Great Hall, she automatically headed for where she'd been sitting the previous evening. She put the book aside, only so that she could fill her plate, and then picked it up again.
Someone pulled the chair on her left, but she didn't turn to see who it was. After a moment of silence the person sighed and said, "I'm not sure doing that is particularly healthy."
"Get lost, Malfoy." She turned a page without even looking up at him.
He persisted. "I don't know about healthy, but it's certainly not attractive."
Hermione sighed and closed the book, facing the Slytherin. "That's because I couldn't care less about attracting anyone who is currently present in this room. Unlike some other people, I'm not seeking any attention." With that, she focused on her food, attacking it with more ferocity than necessary.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Malfoy rub the bridge of his nose in an exasperated gesture.
A few minutes later, he put his fork down and turned to face her. "Blaise said he wanted to visit the library this afternoon."
"Indeed!" Her voice was dripping with feigned curiosity and then she finished in a deadpan tone, "And you are telling me this, because…?"
The boy rolled his eyes. "Don't act stupid, Granger. I know a certain friend of yours," he frowned, as if the word had a bad taste, "who might also want to go to the library around… say, 4 o'clock today."
"What are you on abou—Oh. Oh!" Hermione pressed her palms together with a grin, her sardonic attitude forgotten.
"There you go." She saw the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. "Don't raise your hopes though; I doubt it will accomplish anything."
"Sure you do!" The girl couldn't keep her triumph from showing. "Tell you what: in exchange for your effort, I won't tell anyone about it. Your secret is safe with me." Before she knew what she was doing, she held out her hand. "Peace?"
Malfoy only hesitated for a split-second before he took it and shook it firmly. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but – peace."
x-x-x
When Granger returned to her seat, Draco was just helping himself to a baked apple. He started eating it, careful not to make a mess. "So?" he shot the girl a questioning look before swallowing a bite.
The Great Hall was almost empty and there was no one in their close proximity. Even so, the girl kept her voice low when she replied, "I told her. She's going to meet me in the library this afternoon." She chuckled. "Or that's what she thinks."
"I shtill shink that's a shtupid idea." He gulped down, "I mean,-"
"Haven't you been told it's impolite to talk with your mouth full?" She tried to sound reproachful, but her eyes twinkled with amusement.
Draco fought his own smile. Contrary to what he thought, there was something comforting about their new truce. He still couldn't wrap his mind around being on friendly terms with her, but he knew the only way to solve the mystery of the dreams would be to work together.
As if she'd been reading his mind, the brunette said, every trace of cheerfulness gone from her countenance, "So, umm. I wanted to ask you… Did you dream of something… you know, extraordinary last night?" She didn't say anything about his breaking their agreement.
Draco nodded. Suddenly the apple in his plate didn't look as appealing as it had. He pushed it away, feeling queasy. "It was different."
"Yeah." Hermione bit her bottom lip, thoughtful. "Do you know whose that silhouette was? I didn't recognise the voice."
"No idea."
After a moment's silence, she tried again. "Any clue why it could have changed? Have you… done something?"
"No."
"And you still have no idea what's caused those things?"
"None."
Granger slapped her hands against the table. Then, looking around and realising how loud the action was, she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Malfoy, you need to tell me what you're doing. That's the only way for me to help you!" Urgency tinted her voice.
He sharply turned towards her, seizing her eyes with his own. "What makes you think you'll be able to help me if you know what I'm doing? What makes you think you'll want to? Because you wouldn't. What you would want to do is run to Dumbledore and rat me out!" He stared at her intensely, daring her to contradict him.
For one long moment, she remained silent. Then she said, "Whatever you're up to, it won't end well."
He laughed harshly. "Good job figuring that one out, Granger."
Just as he thought she wouldn't say anything, she murmured, "After dinner I'll go to the library again, see if I can find anything." Her voice became stronger. "I'm not going to sit here twiddling my thumbs while you get yourself in God knows what sort of trouble."
"… Why?"
The question seemed to take her by surprise. Her forehead wrinkled while she pondered on her answer. Finally, she drawled, "Maybe it's because you look like someone in need of help."
He didn't have a chance to reply – taking her book, she pushed her chair back and stood up, about to leave the Hall.
"Granger!" he called out before she could walk away.
She looked at him over her shoulder. "Yes?"
"Thank you."
The girl nodded with a small smile.
x-x-x
For the remainder of the day, Hermione couldn't get back to reading. Her conversation with Malfoy nagged her and she felt she was idling when it was very important that she did something. Except… she didn't know what.
After dinner, she headed to the library. A part of her was convinced it would be in vain, but she still hoped she would have more luck this time. And if she didn't, well—she decided she wouldn't think about defeat unless it became evident.
She rushed down the empty hallways. The pale glow of the moon, dancing through the windows, created odd, ever-changing shadows. More than once did Hermione jump in surprise, thinking someone was following her and every time it turned out to be the play of light and reflection. The girl shook her head. She told herself she was being stupid – she was at Hogwarts, the safest place in the world, and yet, why did she feel so uneasy? Surely nothing dangerous could get into Hogwarts, could it?
She was still trying to convince herself that no, indeed it could not, when she reached the library. She knew it would be closed, so she was surprised to find the door ajar. However, there seemed to be no light coming from inside.
With a quizzical look, she pushed the door. It opened with a quiet sigh and she stepped into the library. The familiar scent of old parchment, dry paper and dust made her feel at home. She let her tense muscles relax. Madame Pince must have forgotten the door open; that was all. Or there had been a draught. Or—
Just then, a sound filled the library. It was barely audible, but still she couldn't mistake it. Sobbing. Hermione felt her heart grow heavy. She dropped her bag on a nearby table and made her way in the direction of the noise, trying to step as quietly as possible.
She found him next to one of the big windows at the far end of the library. His back was turned to her, but the glimmer of light on his pale hair made it impossible not to recognise him. His shoulders were sagging, his face buried in his palms.
"Malfoy," she whispered.
In retrospect, she couldn't find an explanation for what she did. The most logical action would be to turn back and leave before he'd seen her, but logic seemed to have deserted her. There was something so vulnerable, so fragile in him that struck a chord in her. She felt tears well up in her eyes.
Hermione acted on impulse. Before she could stop herself, she crossed the space between them and wrapped her arms around his waist.
He stiffened. Under her cheek, she felt the muscles of his back clench.
"It's me," she murmured into the fluffy fabric of his dressing-gown.
Several long seconds passed before he finally relaxed. However, the surprise seemed to be enough to cut his crying short. He just stood there, motionless, with her awkwardly hugging him from behind. When he breathed in and out, she could feel his chest moving.
x-x-x
Hermione couldn't tell how long they remained like that, silent and unmoving, before he finally shifted. Judging by his movements, she guessed he was rubbing at his face.
Then, he pulled away and she released her grip. He stepped closer to the window and propped himself on the frame. Without facing her, he asked, "What are you doing here?" His voice seemed hoarser than usual, but was otherwise calm and composed.
"Research, remember? I told you today." She sat on a nearby table and drew her legs to her chest.
"It's pointless," he said. "Everything's pointless; I don't know why you're even trying." His tone echoed his words – crestfallen, dejected.
Hermione frowned, but made every endeavour to sound upbeat when she replied, "That's such a defeatist way of thinking! If you want to do something, there's always a way."
"Maybe that's the problem." He turned to her, his bloodshot eyes searching for hers. "Maybe I don't want to do it anymore."
"Then tell someone! Tell me!" Hermione raised her hands, exasperated. "It's not too late to change sides, Draco. There are still people who can help you, who can protect you."
His expression was replaced by one of puzzlement. "Did you just call me 'Draco'?"
Despite the seriousness of the moment, a smile tugged on Hermione's lips. "That's what you're called, isn't it?"
The boy smiled crookedly. "So I've been told." A second later, all amusement disappeared and he raised his voice, "You just don't understand! If I don't go through with this, I'm a dead person! And you'll do well to stop prying unless you want to head the same way!"
He pushed off the windowsill in a single swift motion and walked to her. He leaned in closer to her, until she had no choice but to look him straight in the eye. He licked his lips, clearly struggling to formulate his thought.
She was taken aback when Draco raised his hand - an unwitting, hesitant movement. Carefully, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered on the side of her face, barely touching the skin, before he heaved a sigh and dropped his hand. The brief contact made the hairs on her neck stand on end.
The boy cleared his throat. "I'm warning you one last time, Granger. Back. Off. Trust me; you don't want to be dragged into this."
Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot; his proximity was unnerving. Yet, she bore his gaze without flinching. When she spoke, her voice was barely audible, but unfaltering. "I already am. I'm sorry, but I can't just let it be – both of us know I can't."
Closing his eyes wearily, he retreated to the window again. After a brief pause, he glanced at her. "Go to bed, Granger. I bet you could use some sleep."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "But what about—"
"Just go. I can research just as well as you. And it's not like I'd be able to sleep even if I tried."
After a moment's hesitation, she nodded and stood up.
She had almost reached the door when she stopped and called out into the dark library. "Good night, Malfoy."
"Good night," came the quiet response.