Chapter 19

A/N – Day 54 of Quarantine. Just me, the dogs, a nonalcoholic beer, and my introvert husband who is having the time of his life. I, the extrovert, am thiiiis close to dead inside. Check on your extroverts, people.

And because I'm socially deprived, you all get an extra-long author's note. And an extra-long chapter, apparently, because I couldn't find a good way to break it up. So, you know… enjoy! Haha

"Draco!"

Draco walked a bit faster. If he could just get to the next corridor, he could duck behind the tapestry that hid a shortcut-

"Draco!"

Pansy drew out the "O" in his name as she called him, sounding entirely too close to a howling banshee.

Draco exhaled loudly, finally facing his pursuer.

"Ah, didn't see you there, Pans," he deadpanned.

"Oh come off it, I've been screaming your name for ages! Why didn't you answer me?"

Draco rolled his eyes at her tone of voice, high-pitched and cloying.

"Because I'm on my way to the library and didn't want to be delayed. What's so important?"

She crossed her arms.

"The library? But you've been to the library almost every day this week! And besides, I've barely seen you since Christmas."

She sidled closer, running playful fingers along the Slytherin emblem of his school robes.

Draco felt a small twinge of guilt mixed with irritation. He wasn't, in fact, going to the library, but he certainly didn't want her to know his actual destination. Or who he planned to spend his time with. He turned slightly away from her, letting her fingers fall.

"Yes. The library. Father has made it abundantly clear that my studies are to be top notch this year. Anything less would dishonor the Malfoy name, and I won't have that."

"The Noble House of Malfoy…" Pansy mused, eyeing him with keen interest.

Draco's stomach twisted nauseatingly.

Oblivious to his discomfort, she pressed on, "In that case, why don't I accompany you? I've a Potions essay I could use your help with. I just need to grab my book from the Common Room-"

"No."

Draco turned sharply from her, walking brusquely away.

"Wha- wait! Honestly, Draco, it'll only take a minute! Why are you in such a hurry anyways?"

"Did you not hear me? I don't have time to help you! Just - go do your Potions essay in the Common Room, and I'll meet you there later."

"I'm free to go to the library too, you know. It isn't as if you own it."

Draco took in a stuttering breath, actively trying not to show how desperate he was for her not to follow him. He thought about telling her he wasn't going to the library - that he had another spot where he liked to study, but that would immediately pique her curiosity. She was already far too interested in his whereabouts on a day-to-day basis.

A part of him wondered at the change in his perspective. Sure, Pansy was clingy, and she was obviously only after him for his family wealth and status, but that had never bothered him before. In fact, he'd welcomed her eager stroke to his ego. Her interest meant that his position, that he, was desirable. But now…

Now he just wanted her to leave him alone.

And he knew that the best way to get what he wanted was to give her what she wanted.

"I know, Pans," he relented, stepping closer to her, voice low, "I'm not saying you can't go, of course. I'm saying that if you're there, even knowing you're in the same room with me while I'm trying to pay attention to my boring, tedious schoolwork, well - it would be… distracting."

He emphasized the last word by reaching his hand towards her, as if with longing, but never actually making contact with her skin. Instead, he let it linger in the air, along with all that he'd implied.

"That wouldn't be good, I suppose," she said, biting her lip in an obvious attempt at hiding her too-pleased smile, "But you will come and see me later, yeah?"

"Sure," he agreed flippantly.

"Well, I'll see you soon then."

"Right," he said, already turning from her, "Later."

Almost as soon as she was out of his sight, he forgot his hasty promise.

…

"You know, I think this is a new record."

"Hmm?" Granger hummed, struggling to pull herself out of her thoughts and back to the present, "What's a new record?"

"The number of books you have out at once," he said with a sarcastic drawl, "Did you cast another engorgio on your desk?"

He leant casually against the stone entryway of her classroom, projecting an attitude of smug amusement.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Granger replied, nose in the air and a quirk to her lips.

Draco walked over to stand behind her. "Honestly, how many classes can you revise for at the same time?"

"It's not as if I'm reading them all simultaneously-"

"Charms, Herbology, Divination-"

"Yes, and Potions and Arithmancy as well. I have a system, Malfoy."

He gave her a speculative look.

"Do tell, Granger."

"You really want to know?" she asked cynically.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know, would I?"

She hesitated, then she explained, "Well, first I re-read the assigned chapter for one of the more practical subjects, like Charms or Potions, and then I do a bit of practice if possible. I follow that with theory-based topics, like Divination. I also like to cross-reference where I can, in the case of Arithmancy and Divination, or Herbology and Potions. And then, if I find myself getting tired, I take breaks by doing a bit of side reading."

She gestured to each of the texts as she mentioned them, ending on a book with a drawing of a Hippogriff.

"Side reading? This isn't for Care of Magical Creatures?" he asked curiously. He leaned closer to her, only so he could inspect the image more thoroughly.

"No," she answered, giving him a pointed look, "This is for Buckbeak's trial, actually. I've found some helpful tips for Hagrid, but he needs more concrete examples if he's going to successfully defend that poor, innocent-"

Draco raised his hands. "Stand down, Granger, it was only a simple question."

He was not going to have this argument with her - not again. He'd already been dragged into it twice before; he wouldn't allow himself to get caught up in another of her passionate debates.

"Anyways," she continued with a soft huff, "It's my system, and it works well for me. I like having everything open to the last place I left off."

"Well, it's entirely too chaotic in my opinion."

"Lucky you don't have to abide by it then."

"How can you even tell what you're supposed to be working on?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? The text I'm focused on is the one directly in front of me, and once I'm ready to switch, everything rotates in a clockwise formation."

"That…" he said with a hint of a grin, "...is mental, Granger."

"Oh, shove off, Malfoy!" She ordered, blushing prettily as she swatted him away.

"All right, all right, no need to get all pushy. So according to your infallible system, you're currently working on… Divination?"

"Unfortunately." She rolled her eyes, then groaned, rubbing her temples. "In fact, I think it's time I took a break from it. I'm starting to get a headache from all this eye-rolling."

Draco snorted.

"Not a fan of fortune-telling, I take it?"

She rolled her eyes again, then winced. Taking out her wand, she turned the tip to her forehead and mumbled, "Reparifors."

A purple light flashed from her wand.

Granger waited a moment, then groaned. "It still hurts… but I've used that spell before and it worked just fine!"

Draco shook his head. "That spell only works on magically-inflicted ailments*. You'd be better off using permulceo, but really, no healing spell is effective when you cast it on yourself."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "I didn't know you knew about healing spells?"

He kicked himself mentally. Of course she would immediately hone in on that; healing wasn't taught in the general curriculum.

"My mother is a Healer," he said quickly, "She taught me some basics."

Well, that was mostly true anyways. His mother had never outright instructed him, but he had picked up a thing or two from observing her. Mostly, though, he'd eked out his education painfully over time, after every one of his father's outbursts.

She was staring intently at him.

"What?" he demanded rather defensively.

"Nothing, just - those spells aren't basic. They must be part of N.E.W.T. levels, maybe even more advanced."

"You seem surprised," he pressed, a bit offended.

"I, no of course not-"

"You seemed surprised the last time I used an advanced spell, too." He gave her a piercing look. "What, do you think you're the only one who can study above their year?"

"Malfoy, you're taking this the wrong way."

"Well, go on then, how should I be taking it?"

She spluttered for a moment, blushing in earnest.

"I'm - well, I'm impressed, is all," she admitted, apparently unable to make eye contact with him.

All of his defensiveness shattered in the wake of his surprise. "Impressed?"

She cleared her throat, still not meeting his eyes. "Yes. I've seen you throw around Notice-me-not charms and the like with ease, and I assumed you went out of your way to learn them because they're useful, and because you're an arrogant little show-off."

Timidly, she raised her eyes to meet his. "But healing spells, those are different. They're not flashy. You likely didn't learn about them to flaunt your magical prowess in front of Parkinson. And they require much more study and, well - intelligence. It's just… impressive."

He studied her for a moment, trying to figure out if she was being genuine or not. To his astonishment, he believed she was. She thought he was intelligent. She thought he was impressive.

The idea warmed him, and he managed to turn his pleased grin into a smirk.

Granger, seeing the expression, fought down a smile. "Now, don't go getting an even bigger ego. I've already got a headache."

She rubbed her temples for emphasis, grimacing a little as she did.

"Here, hold still," he said, against his better judgment.

He really shouldn't do this.

He took out his wand anyways.

Seeing the way she stiffened, he said reassuringly, "Come on, Granger, I'm not going to curse you or anything."

Her eyes found his again. She stared at him for a long moment, weighing him. Draco met her gaze unflinchingly, trying to show her what she wanted to find. Sincerity. Honesty. Trust.

Granger's eyes widened ever so slightly. Then she blinked, nodded decisively, and looked straight ahead with determination.

He was slightly shocked that she would allow him to cast the spell on her. That she trusted him that much. Gingerly, he touched his wand to her temple.

"Permulceo," he said quietly, moving his wand in a complicated motion. A soft, yellow light spread over her skin.

She shivered a bit as the magic took effect - this particular spell, Draco knew, caused a pleasant cooling sensation if cast correctly. And by the look of relief that spread over her features in waves, he had indeed cast it correctly.

"Wow, that's…" She cleared her throat. "Um, thank you. That is impressive."

Draco could only nod.

He'd never been able to perform that spell on himself, and part of him was truly proud that it had worked so well. Another, louder part of him was berating himself for being so pleased at her reaction.

"Well," he forced out, "Now you can continue to be tortured by Divination."

He stepped away from her, turning instead for his desk in his familiar corner, which was altogether a much safer distance from her.

"You know," she said, smiling curiously, "I don't think I will torture myself with more of this rubbish at the moment. I think I'll take a proper break."

She stood to her feet and stretched, arms reaching up, back arched.

Draco commanded his eyes to look anywhere but at her.

Then she knelt down and rummaged in her bag for a moment before extracting yet another book. Walking to the large window sill, she sat primly, swinging her legs up and resting her back against the wall. Then she opened her book and began reading, a satisfied little smirk on her face.

Draco simply couldn't stop himself.

"Really? Another book?"

Granger stuck her tongue out at him.

"That thing is huge," he protested, "What is it?"

"Rhetoric and Logic."**

He blinked at her. "You can't be serious."

"I've no idea what you're insinuating," she replied, still smirking.

"That is how you take a break from your schoolwork? By reading that giant, boring monstrosity?"

She snapped it shut and turned her body towards him, obviously pleased as punch to be able to defend her "monstrosity".

"I'll have you know that this is an excellent read. Besides, a lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic - I said the same thing to Harry our first year. Logic tends to be a weakness in wizardkind - a weakness I don't intend to share."

He raised a brow. "I know plenty of wizards and witches who are great with logic."

Granger giggled. "And that argument, my dear Malfoy, is anecdotal evidence. It's a fallacy - a logic error."

"Well - that doesn't change the fact that I still know loads of magical people who have brilliant logic," he said, a little defensive.

She laughed again. "No, certainly not. Dismissing an argument because it contains a fallacy is also a fallacy. See? It's right here."

She opened the book and turned it towards him, pointing to a bolded section she'd obviously read before.

He walked over to her and scanned the page.

"Post hoc? Ad hominem? These almost sound like spells."

Granger nodded. "These fallacies are very common - so much so that they have formal names. I like knowing about them. It helps my writing, and my learning in general."

Her voice had an odd, almost shrewd lilt to it as she added, "Especially when I'm tackling a bigger, overwhelming subject. It's, um, nice to be able to analyze all of the information logically."

He eyed her. Something was off with her tone, but he wasn't entirely sure what it was. He continued perusing the page, but most of his attention was on her.

She shifted on the window seat, making room for him to sit down.

He did. She handed him the book and leaned closer, pointing to it.

"This is one of my favorites: the False Cause Fallacy, or Cum Hoc Ergo Propter Hoc."

Drago managed to disguise his bemused snigger in a cough.

"Ahem, ah - and what does that mean?"

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, am I the only one who thought that learning Latin might come in useful? Literally translated, it's 'with this, therefore because of this'. Basically, it's the idea that just because there's a connection between two things, it doesn't mean that one caused the other."

He peered at her out of the corner of his eye. "And this is exciting why?"

"Think about it. Have you ever heard the old wizard superstition that 'Bad luck can be prevented by turning three times on the spot and deliberately Splinching one's thumbs*'?"

"Of course," he shrugged, "Everyone knows that."

Granger clenched her jaw, then shook herself a bit and continued, "Muggles have tons of similar superstitions. Like throwing salt over your shoulder staves off bad luck, or a black cat crossing your path means bad luck-"

"Well that's utter rubbish - why would a black cat have anything to do with your luck?"

"What would a black dog have to do with death?" Countered Granger.

Draco swallowed, seeing again in his mind the enormous shadow of the snarling dog, the harbinger of death.

He'd been avoiding thinking about it for weeks. He told himself time and time again that it wasn't The Grim, that seeing it didn't mean he was doomed.

And yet, peculiarly, he found himself arguing against the very points he'd tried to talk himself into believing.

"The Grim has been spotted for centuries by wizards who have soon after been killed or died in terrible accidents." He forced himself to say the next words: "It's synonymous with death, Granger."

"Or," she held up her index finger, "Some people who thought they saw a dog also just happened to die. It's a False Cause fallacy - almost all superstitions are. 'Jane came across a black cat, and then she fell and broke her leg; she must have gotten bad luck.' Don't you see? Just because the two events happened together, it doesn't mean that one caused the other. Correlation doesn't equal causation."

He tilted his head, weighing her statements. It all made a surprising amount of sense. And if he were being honest with himself, he would happily believe anything that pointed to his death not being imminent.

Needing to fill the silence, he asked, "Are you saying that thumb splinching thing is fake, then?"

"That's one of my favourite Wizard sayings. Do you know where it came from?" she prompted.

He shrugged, keeping his curiosity from showing on his face.

"It originated back in the 14th century. A rather simpleminded wizard called Felix the Unlucky was convinced he had bad luck. All sorts of awful things kept happening to him - his most beloved possessions would habitually explode as he reached for them, he would often wake to find his horse on the roof, the grass outside his home repeatedly spelled out the word 'imbecile' no matter how he tried to get rid of it - things like that."

Draco chuckled. "I'd probably blame bad luck too if my garden insulted me regularly."

"Finally," Granger continued as if she hadn't heard him, "In an almost mad state, he decided to flee his home. Not knowing where to go, he turned in a circle three times before finally deciding to apparate to his mum's house. In his distress, he splinched his thumbs, leaving a bit of a mess where he'd been standing. After that, all the bad things stopped happening to him. Eventually, he returned and lived out the remainder of his life relatively disaster-free."

"But that proves it-" Draco protested, eyebrows furrowed, "If his bad luck was dispelled after he splinched himself-"

"That's not the whole story, Malfoy," Granger interrupted, giving him a smile that clearly said "I know something you don't know."

Draco raised his eyes to the ceiling before gesturing for her to continue.

"It turns out, Felix was never unlucky in the first place. He was unfaithful."

"What?"

"You see, he'd taken a liking to a couple of pretty witches from the village - sisters. And instead of pursuing one or the other, he secretly wooed them both, at the same time. His 'bad luck' began when they both found out."

Her eyes shone with excitement, and Draco couldn't tear his gaze from her.

"The sisters exacted their revenge by hexing his things, levitating his horse, spelling his garden - all of it. When he finally splinched himself, they decided that losing both his thumbs was punishment enough, so they left him alone after that."

"So he never had bad luck in the first place - he was just an idiot."

She nodded excitedly. "The problem was, he told everyone how he had triumphed over his bad luck streak, and he so completely believed what he was saying that others believed him too. And it just sort of spiralled from there, until nowadays it's common knowledge, even though it has no basis in fact!"

"Right," Draco said, "Well, I won't go intentionally splinching myself anytime soon, then. Of course, I wouldn't be stupid enough to try and carry on with two witches simultaneously in the first place."

Granger laughed, "Yes, well, I should hope not."

Her fingers traced the cover of Rhetoric and Logic lovingly, a smile curving her lips.

"You really love learning about all this, don't you?" he asked.

She nodded. "It's important to me."

She looked down at the book, then took her bottom lip between her teeth.

Looking back up at him, she ventured, "Would… would you like to borrow it? It might come in useful with your studies - er, you know, with homework and such."

Her voice had adopted that same shrewd tone it had earlier. He couldn't place it, but it intrigued him. She really wanted him to have the book.

And somehow, even though he knew she was up to something, he didn't want to disappoint her.

Slowly, he held out his hand, palm up.

A brilliant smile swept across her lips, lighting up her face as she placed the book in his hand.

*Thank you to the Harry Potter fandom Wiki for these various references.

Also, according to Google, Permulceo is Latin for "alleviate or sooth". It can also mean "gently touch".

**If anyone knows where Rhetoric and Logic comes from, I will be so incredibly giddy.