Happy Saturday!
Draco figured he would never understand Hermione Granger. Not two feet into their trek toward the school library, she freezes and turns around, announcing that they needed to go find the Headmaster instead.
"What is it, Hermione?" Potter asked, obviously aware that his best friend was a loon.
"Harry, don't you remember what Quirrel did in our first year? Unicorn blood was just a way to keep Voldemort alive until he could get what he really needed – the Philosopher's Stone!"
Draco flinched at her casual use of the Dark Lord's name. Potter, he noticed, did not.
Potter stood, stunned. "Malfoy's cousin must be doing the same thing to bring back Voldemort. But – Dumbledore destroyed the stone! She can't use it anymore."
"That's why we have to get to Professor Dumbledore." Hermione said. "There might be another stone that we didn't know about, or some way that she could get her hands on something similar."
Draco held up his hands. "Hold on, hold on. Are you sure that we need to go to Dumbledore? If we're wrong…"
Hermione caught his eye, and he felt himself straining not to blush. She knew what he was thinking.
"We don't have to tell him about Constantine." Hermione assured him. "I just need to find out if there's some way that she could do what Quirrel had been planning."
Draco sighed. He didn't fully understand what they were talking about, since he didn't know a whole lot of information from what had happened during first-year besides Quirrel going completely insane, but he trusted Hermione.
"If it'll help…" Potter said softly, looking uncertain. "The two of you can head to the library and I'll go to Dumbledore. I can ask him about the stone."
Hermione pursed her lips. She definitely wanted to go.
"It's fine." Draco muttered. "We can go."
She shook her head. "No, Harry, that'll work perfectly. It keeps Malfoy from being associated with this, too. If we all go, Professor Dumbledore will have questions."
Despite the heavy relief of not having to enter Dumbledore's office and suffer through a meeting with the old coot, Draco felt a little bad. He could tell Hermione really wanted to talk to her mentor.
After hurriedly finding some parchment and handing Harry a list of questions, Hermione grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him toward the library.
"We need to know if there's any way that she could get her hands on a stone or if there's anything like it. You know, like a second Resurrection Stone or something that has the same power. I can't imagine Flamel could have been the only man in the world to create one." She explained.
Draco nodded. He had no idea what she was talking about, but at least she didn't look disappointed anymore.
The library was mostly empty, which wasn't surprising since it was an unusually sunny winter Saturday. Hermione made a beeline for the bookshelves closer to the restricted section, and Draco kept a close eye on Madame Pince.
It wasn't long before Potter returned.
"Dumbledore gave me nothing." He growled, stalking past Draco. "I'm seventeen! I've fought Voldemort and won. I died and came back! And he thinks I'm too young to know if there's a second Philosopher's Stone?"
"Shh!" Madame Pince shushed from the front of the library.
Hermione shot Potter a glare, and he looked reasonable cowed. In a quieter voice, "Sorry. I just –"
Hermione put a comforting hand on Potter's arm. "I know, Harry. It's all right."
Draco stared down at where Hermione's hand rested against Potter. Though she wasn't anywhere near him, he could still feel the gentle weight on his arm when she'd done the same to him, to comfort him after hearing how awful Constantine actually was.
It was stupid, really. Of course. She did the same to all of her friends, to anyone she pitied. It was nothing more.
He didn't want it to be anything more.
Besides, there were more important things that required his attention.
"Give me a piece of parchment." He ordered. "I'll write to my Mum and ask. If there's dark magic, money, or reputation involved, my family will know about it."
Hermione nodded. She let go of Harry to fumble around for parchment and a quill, and Draco's heart lightened just a smidgen.
Shut up, he told it.
…
It was dinnertime before Hermione let up her research. Draco had written his letter and tucked it away in his pocket, planning to head to the owlery before bed.
Potter had gotten hungry and disappeared, promising to return with food that he could sneak past Madame Pince.
"I'll fill a form to check these out." Hermione told him, motioning toward the stack of books that they hadn't yet touched. "I haven't found anything of interest yet, but I'll try to work through the night."
"I've got Quidditch practice tomorrow." Draco said dully, stacking his book on top of the 'Useless' pile.
"I won't keep you up." She promised.
He held the books while she gave Madame Pince some arbitrary excuse – some class project or fleeting interest. Madame Pince surely didn't believe her, but she signed off on the books and they were on their way.
"Harry will be looking for us." Hermione realized. "Oh, if we could only split up! You could put the books away and I could go find him."
Draco kept his expression impassive. "We've got to go to the owlery, too."
Hermione huffed. "This is so inconvenient!"
He said nothing.
She eventually decided they'd first go to their dorms, put the books away, go to the owlery, and then the Great Hall for dinner. Along the way, she charmed a parchment to inform Potter of their whereabouts and levitated it to where she hoped he would find it.
Draco walked behind her. She'd offered to take some of the books, so he'd given her the top two off the stack. As she walked, she skimmed through the first few pages.
They followed her plan exactly – dropped the books off in their common room, sent his letter through the owlery, and met up with Potter in the Great Hall.
Draco said nothing.
Midway through dinner, Blaise moved to sit next to him.
"What is it, mate? We haven't seen you all day!"
Draco shrugged wearily. "Just exhausted. It's been a long day."
Blaise shot him a look. "What's bothering you?"
Draco shrugged again. When Blaise didn't stop, he added some food to his plate and quietly cut the meat. "Tired, Blaise. That's all."
"Well, if you don't start looking a little better soon, Hermione will notice." Blaise said. "Don't tell me that's what you want. She's a mother hen, that one. I remember what happened the last time you were a little tired."
Draco couldn't stop a small smirk. He'd been so worried over his nightmare, Hermione had taken it upon herself to make certain he ate, and she'd nagged him for so long that he'd eventually just told her what was wrong.
But still – his smile faded. Something had changed.
Oh, if only we could split up!
"Don't worry." He told Blaise. "I'll feel better in the morning. I think I might be a bit ill. That's all."
Blaise seemed satisfied with that explanation.
The rest of dinner passed uneventfully. It wasn't long before they were back in their dorm. He was slightly surprised his roommate hadn't invited Potter back with them.
They sat down on the couches in the common room, just to look over the books once more before they settled for bed.
"Hopefully, your mother will send a message back tomorrow with any information. Until then, I'm thinking we should look over these for now, and then I'll take what we don't get through to my bed with me. That way you can be ready for Quidditch practice. What do you think?" Hermione asked him, as though his opinion mattered.
This is so inconvenient!
He said, "Sure. Whatever's convenient."