AN: Our boy Draco ended the last chappie with a feeling of extreme guilt… Heh, funny how an author's true thoughts and emotions make it out onto the written page… What I mean is: I AM SO SORRY. It's been forever and two hours since I updated.

And I will now give you some excuses: I went to Japan as an exchange student for the summer. I've been in the process of applying to college. School has been busy. I wrote another fic and doted upon it instead of this 'un. aaannd. I read the sixth book.

Do you believe me? No? That's okay. You can have your new chapter anyway.

ABOUT BOOK 6- SPOILERS! Two people spoiled it for me while I was in Japan. I was mad, but I loved the book still. I'm happy with J.K. for finally making it clear that Draco, in fact, is not dead. He has a soul. (Or a soul-ish thing.) And Hermione and Ron. Yay! gets glared at And Voldie as a kid! That scared the shikoku out of me! It was so… Law and Order, Special Victims Unit. You know, with the cave, and the little children that he changed forever with his perverse behavior?

Okay, we're done.

(Or not, 'cause….)

A RANDOM CRAZY ANNOUNCEMENT: I was looking up Tom Riddle info on Wikipedia online, and saw his birth date which made me want to look up Draco's. His birthday is June 5th. Mine is June 6th. I was squeeishly terrified, for I have lately been saying that I know a Gemini when I see one. I guess I do. eyes dart back and forth We share certain erratic tendencies, I suppose. I just hope I don't end up trying to kill old dudes. True dat. Yo.

Well. After that lovely assortment of useless information, I give you…

SAVING PREFECT GRANGER.

Gavin: It's about bloody time.

Chapter Twenty One

OUTSIDE. TRYING TO FIND RON. THIS BACKYARD IS FULL OF WEEDS. WERE THIS MY BACKYARD, FATHER WOULD ORDER THE ELVES TO PICK THOSE WEEDS AT THE BREAK OF DAWN. AM I OFF SUBJECT? I THINK I AM.

I tried to flatten the annoying voice that tsked at me inside my mind. That certainly makes me sound a bit mad. And perhaps I am mad.

Always listening to my father, trying to live up to the Malfoy name every second of my measly, artificial existence in which I've always longed for friends who wanted me because I was clever and interesting. Not because I have money. My stupid life in which I've always pretended to be a rebel, except I answer to everyone, and do exactly what they tell me. My life which I nearly ended in sixth and seventh year because I was being a show-offy, immature little prat.

In short, as I made my way through the Weasley's back yard, I had a moment of realization.

I've always fancied Hermione Granger. Not because she changed her looks now, or anything of that sort. I fancied her back in first year, and from then on. But I never knew it.

Until… that day in Sorceress Secret, where physical attraction met the feelings I'd had before- the ones I was too stupid to realise. And I've always wished to be mates with Harry and crew, because… because they stick up for each other.

Sighing, I rubbed my hands together in the cold. I'd never had quite a life changing discovery before, besides the time when I smashed the mirror because I finally saw that when I slicked back my hair, I looked like a silly little loon. (My hand still throbs every time I see my reflection.)

"Shit, shit, shit," I sang aloud, because, really, when one has such a life changing discovery, they must say something intelligible. And to make matters worse, I could clearly see Weasley clinging to a tree straight before me. He looked utterly distraught.

My stomach sank. I knew the feeling. But he did not know that I'd known the feeling. And until this very moment, I had not thought about knowing that I knew that I'd know that feeling. I wondered if he knew that…

Shaking my head, I tried to collect myself. Even though I'd just had something of a Muggle Religious Experience, I had to keep Malfoy Cool if I were to remain a not-so-undercover Undercover Agent. (Oh! I so want a theme song! And I will get one!)

In an instant, I gathered up my wits (or lack thereof), and stalked toward the tree.

Ron heard my footfalls and looked up. "No," he said firmly. "NO. Just leave me be! You and your bisexuality!"

I sighed outwardly, and continued toward him.

"Stop!" he yelled, holding out a hand as though I were carrying with me a most terrible cold virus.

Thinking that it would probably be best to halt before I was attacked, I did stop. I stood and stared unblinkingly at Ron, trying to think of how to begin.

"Weasley…"

It was a fantastic start, I think, especially since for one of the few times in my life, I'd said his name correctly.

"Just shove off!" Ron cried out, and I could hear in his voice just how very distressed he was.

"Weasley!" I said again, this time more urgently. "It's a lie!"

"What's a lie?" he spat, turning around in full and glaring daggers at me. Snow flurried down around us.

I shrugged. "The bisexuality thing. It's a complete false."

"Ha! Even I'm smart enough to know it exists," Ron snorted.

"No. I'm not bisexual, Weasley"

Ron paused, and looked irritated. "I knew that." His brow furrowed. "Wait- what?"

"Your brother and Potter made that up to sneak me into your birthday," I explained slowly, figuring that it would be best to tell a least a bit of the truth. I walked over to Ron since he had forgotten he was trying to keep me away.

"So they did want to ruin my birthday!" Ron snarled. "Someone does every year, you know. I was just wondering last night what wonderful things they'd all plan this year." He crossed his arms moodily. "But it wasn't just one thing. Everything's been ruined this year."

"Why do you say that?"

"Didn't you listen to a word I said in there? Fred and George put these loud things in my pillow that burst off at one AM screaming that it was Ronnie's birthday. From there, I found out that Hermione had spent the day yesterday at Neville's house. And then, you showed up."

"And that's all I had to do to make you mad?" I questioned sadly.

"Well, that should go without saying!" He unfolded his arms, and looked inquiringly at me. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"I knew it would come to this."

"Yeah, normal people don't just go to their enemy's birthday bash, Malfoy."

"I suppose not."

We stared at each other for a full two minutes before finally, I cleared my throat and began.

"So. Percy- and Potter- have been trying to improve me."

"Excuse me?" Ron scoffed. "Improve you? Who would be dumb enough to try?"

"Obviously, your brother and your best friend," I spat.

"Oh." Ron became silent and kicked a little pebble with his toe.

"Anyhow, they have been helping me. Apparently, they thought that there was some good in me and they have been attempting to make me a normal person."

"Ha, ha, ha!" Ron roared, which I did not think was very nice. "Good in you? That's hysterical! Honestly, I marked Percy for being more intelligent than that! Maybe a bit gung-ho and scary sometimes, but at least intelligent. You know, Malfoy," he stated, looking at me angrily. "It really couldn't be enough satisfaction for you that your life is perfect. You just have to ruin mine, as well. I've never had a nice, normal birthday. I'm certain your birthdays have never been awful-"

"Now, see here, Weasley! You don't know a thing about me!"

"Yeah, what happened, then? Was your mother two minutes late with your cake? Did they forget to buy you that million-billion galleon broom you wanted?"

I began to shout. "Look, you don't know what you're saying! You should be happy about your life- your mother, father, and all your siblings who care about you! At least they're here for your birthday!"

Ron's eyebrow twitched. "What? Malfoy, I guess I didn't think… I- I thought you got everything you wanted! That you were spoiled and mean-"

"I know I've been rude, but honestly, I'm not really wicked, I just-"

"But, I know you tried to kill people a lot while we were in school." He scratched his chin. "A lot. But then, you didn't actually kill anyone, and that really confused me."

"Why do you think I refrained from killing people?"

"Because you didn't know how?"

"That isn't what happened at all, you just don't even-"

-"But Harry said-"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER-" I shouted, and then took a breath and continued-" why I didn't succeed. All that matters is that I didn't. Succeed, that is."

Ron blinked.

"Look, Weasley, I'm not evil!"

"That's the funniest thing I've heard all day, not that I've heard a lot of funny-"

"I cannot believe that Ronald Weasley was the only person present for the most impressive declaration of my entire life," I hissed, and whipped around.

"Wait! You mean it?"

I turned around. "Yes!"

"Oh! Sorry, I thought, you know- you're pretty much the most evil person I know, but now that you're not evil, it would have to be my brother Bill."

I stared at him.

"Yes, well, don't ask. He just stole… someone from me, that's all." He shuffled around uncomfortably. "Heh, heh, never mind that. So, you aren't evil? Truly?"

"I just recently discovered that. I'm also a bit shocked."

"Seriously." Ron frowned thoughtfully. "So, Professor Snape…?"

"What?"

"Is he…?" Ron's eyes darted from side to side. "evil?" he whispered quietly.

(Dear, oh dear, this poor young man has a severe problem.)

"No," I stated firmly. "And he clearly has not been evil for awhile, don't you remember…?"

"Of course, of course! I just wasn't certain, you know… Thought I'd get the scoop from the real deal, you know what I mean?" He laughed uncomfortably.

"What is that supposed to mean? Look, just because I was a Death Eater does not mean I am evil!" I declared.

"You were a Death Eater?" Ron shouted.

"Does anyone tell you anything?" I shouted back.

"No, it's sort of a family joke," he said. "Like, 'ho, ho! Don't tell Ron! That'll make it funny!' "

"I'm sorry…" I trailed off. "But, that was kind of all over the news."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I apologise for not reading about your five minutes of fame, blimey!"

"Never mind!" I exclaimed. "Look, now that you know all of this, are you going to let me back in your home and believe that I don't want your family cursed?"

"I suppose… But, why do you suddenly want to be in our group?"

I stared at my hand. "It's not a sudden thing, Weasley. Let's just keep it at that."

"Right," said Ron, and we had a nice, gruff, straight male kind of understanding, if that makes any sense, which it doesn't, except at the same time, it does. "So, Percy and Harry are your friends now?" he asked slowly.

"Yes, I suppose."

"And they believe you?"

"Yes."

"Well, then…" He cleared his throat, and then stuck out his hand, giving me a sheepish smile. "I still have my doubts, but if Percy let you over here, you must have some redeeming quality. Either that, or you're just super boring, but…"

I shook his hand.

"It's just kind of pathetic how they treat you better than me," Ron grinned, shrugging. "It kind of takes away a man's confidence, you know what I'm mean?"

I shook my head. "Trust me, they give me Hell. I mean, look what they gave me to wear!"

Ron suddenly paid attention to the fluffy blue jumper. "Erm… I think that's mine," he stated, frowning, and said nothing more on the subject.

"Oh."

We walked back toward The Burrow, Weasley bracing himself for more family fun, no doubt.

.inside.

"Look who's back," Hermione muttered when we walked in. "I'll get you your coat, Malfoy."

"How subservient of you," I replied quietly, and then thought NO. STOP SPEAKING TO HER LIKE THAT. YOU'VE HAD A RELGIOUS EXPERIENCE AND WE CANNOT HAVE THAT ANYMORE!

Her mouth twinged in anger. But who was she kidding? My coat? Like I would believe her getting me my coat.

"No need to, Herm," Ron said casually, not hearing the last bit of dialouge. "We blokes worked out the matter. He can at least stay for cake, don't you think?"

Hermione, Ginny, Molly, and Harry gaped at this comment. In fact, Harry even dropped a pumpkin pastie onto the maroon carpet.

"Good man, Ron," Percy nodded, the only calm person present. "I was wondering at what age you'd be when you grew up."

Ron's face reddened as if he were about to become angry, and then he exhaled.

"Thanks, I guess," he said.

The room's atmosphere immediately changed. Mister Weasley began to tell funny stories about Muggle artifacts that had been bewitched- an evil hair dryer that spit fire, to name one. Molly put on the radio and bantered happily to Percy, while Ginny and Hermione spread out on the floor and laughed.

Hermione shook her long locks and grinned, coming out of a good giggle and her eyes fell upon me. It became clear to her that I had been staring at her, and she moodily turned away.

Sighing, I looked off into the distance, thinking how funny this situation was. And how screwed up my life had gotten.

Come on. I am in love with my enemy's gal pal- my enemy who is now homosexual and, just two hours ago, was pretending I was his boyfriend, and NOW we're pretty not even enemies anymore. And I just made up with my enemy's other friend, who I have beaten up (or gotten beaten up by, but same difference) on several (twenty nine and a half) occasions. Annnd, I'm friends with his older brother, who was a disgrace to his entire family months ago, but now it's all perfectly dandy.

Except the part about my enemy's gal pal who I am in love with. Yes, now, even though everything is starting to make sense- I have friends who don't just hang out with me when I have candy-, the one thing that began it all is incomplete.

So, when Hermione got up from her place on the floor and announced that she needed some fresh air, I took this as a sign from someone (but NOT Lord Voldemort. Definitely not THAT jumped up old fogie.) that this was my chance to go speak to her.

.outside…. because, I considered leaving this as a cliff hanger and then I realised that the idea was foolish to the tenth power, and also EVIL with a capital E, and although Draco and I are zany Geminis, we wouldn't do that. Or, I wouldn't, at least…

SO.

/end random author's note.

.outside.

I grabbed the annoying scarf. It was white and therefore fashionably unappealing, however, necessary, for the snow was falling in heavy amounts now. I swung it around my neck, and walked casually out the front door, just behind her. I shut the door as quietly as possible.

Granger whipped around. "If you think that just because Ron's suddenly gone mad and has become your best friend, I will start liking you, then you have another thing coming, Malfoy!" she shouted, pointing at me. "I don't care if Percy and Harry find you to be a changed man, either. I think they're all stupid, honestly. Stupid for believing you and believing your acting skills!"

"Granger, come now! Do you really, honestly think that Percy would have invited me here if he thought I was bad? And, I don't have any acting skills! Don't you remember third year, when I told everyone the hippogriff had killed me, yet I was walking around and breathing? Sadly, I have no acting skills."

Her eyes narrowed. She wanted to spite me, I could tell. But no one could deny that I had terrible acting skills.

Instead, she changed the subject.

"Why can't you leave us alone? Don't you have something else to do?"

"Not really."

"I find that very hard to believe. What about shopping with your beautiful mother, or going hunting in the Icelandic wilds with your strong, brilliant father?"

"My father does not hunt!"

"Well, he should, then!"

"What are you implying?"

She snorted. "That you should hurry home to your rich, fashionable, and Pure-blooded family, you two-timing, murderous asshole!"

With that, she flung back her hair, and walked away briskly in the rapidly falling snow.

"Wait!" I pleaded, and followed her. She broke into a run, and I caught up to her and grabbed her around the waist.

"Let go!" she commanded, pulling away, and in doing so, she toppled onto me, and we both fell backward into a snow drift.

For a moment, we sat there silently. But then, I couldn't help myself- I began laughing.

She struggled to get up and fell back on top of me. "Shut up, you!" she said, and rolled onto the ground, getting up and standing over me. "You are an idiot," she declared, and then she knelt down, gathered up an armful of snow, and dumped it over my face.

"Holy Salazaar!" I cried out, trying to cover my head as the freezing matter made contact with my skin. I scrambled up, and made my own snowball, thrusting it at her. It bounced off her chest.

"I guess your aiming isn't much better than your acting, Malfoy," she voiced solemnly. And then she started to giggle.

"And you say I'm evil," I stated, shaking my head slowly.

"I am not evil," she argued. "Just a little malicious at times."

"Sure," I nodded. "That makes me feel loads better."

Hermione paused, and looked at me seriously again. "What do you want?" she inquired.

"I suppose I just want you to give me a chance. Will you hear me out?"

She thought for a moment, and then nodded. "I guess you deserve that, if anything. But not now. This is not the time. I'll meet you in Diagon tomorrow. Do you know that Chinese restaurant-"

"I know it well."

"Tomorrow at four thirty?"

"What about eight?"

She smiled slightly. "No. This isn't a date, Draco. Don't be silly." With that, she walked back inside.

I did, as well. And as much as I tried to focus upon the words of "Happy Birthday", I had other things to fathom.