Note: I was going to wait to release this chapter later, but because people are upset that it seems like Blaise got away with things, I wanted to post this now to show that he didn't. :)

Chapter Thirty-One

She'd been working in the library at a table near Madam Pince's desk for two hours when there was a rustling overhead, causing Hermione to glance up. An owl had soared in through one of the open windows and taken roost on the back of one of the large wing chairs arranged near where Hermione had been studying. She glanced at it in curiosity, then over to the librarian's desk, knowing Madam Pince's penchant for chasing anything that could defile her precious books from her domain, with no regard for said defiler's well-being. Lucky for the owl, which Hermione now recognized as Draco's, Madam Prince had gone off to chide a handful of Gryffindor students for talking too loudly, and was across the room at the moment. She quickly removed the scroll from the owl's leg and gestured at it to take flight.

"Hurry," she whispered, checking for the librarian once more, "if Pince catches you she'll make a throw pillow out of your coat!" Looking offended, the owl ruffled its wings and launched itself into the air and out the window just in the nick of time. Hermione quickly hid the note on her lap and offered the librarian a false smile when she looked her way upon returning to her desk. Once Pince had returned to checking-in returned books, Hermione carefully unrolled the scroll.

Hermione, it read, and her heart gave a little flutter at seeing her name in print. Not simply Granger, but her true name.

I know you might not want to see anyone so soon after everything, but I needed to let you know that I'm thinking about you and hoping that you're well. I spoke with Ginny an hour ago and she told me that she was surprised how calm you seemed. I know part of that is your ridiculous Gryffindor pride, but it's ok to let down your guard sometimes. If you truly consider me a friend then know that you can be honest with me.

Hermione paused, rereading the words and hearing the truth in them. She was trying not to let what Blaise did shake her, but holding up a stoic front was wearing on her, and it had been less than a day since everything had happened. She'd pulled Harry aside, with Ginny next to her, after they'd returned from the meeting with McGonagall, and given him a bare-bones overview of what had happened. Predictably, Harry had turned red with anger and wanted to hull Blaise out of his common room immediately for a beat down. He'd said it would be easy enough, as he still remembered where their entrance was, and he could use his cloak to sneak inside, but Hermione managed to talk him down, insisting that McGonagall had assured her that proper punishments would be meted out. She had yet to talk to Ron, but she'd heard a rumour flying around and shared with her by Lavender, that Ron had heard about her attack by an as-yet-unnamed Slytherin, and that Malfoy had been involved in some way, and that he'd gone puce with fury, shouting about how she shouldn't have gotten mixed up with Draco Malfoy, and that he'd probably planned the whole thing. Yet even with all that, he'd not come to see her. Hermione had to wonder if Ron thought she'd brought everything on herself in the end. Her heart squeezed at the thought.

However, the message continued, if you'd like to get away for a bit tonight, I had an idea of a place we could go to work on the Charm. I know it worked in the forest, but that was small stuff. I thought we could go out into the highlands a bit. No pressure, if you'd rather stay in the castle though.

Sincerely,

Draco

Hermione reread Draco's offer, thinking things over. She wasn't sure how she felt about being alone with a boy right now. Then again, if she felt safe with anyone at the moment, it would be Harry Potter or—she still couldn't believe how things had changed—Draco Malfoy. And, once again, he'd proven how well he knew her by offering her a chance to do something normal, something that would take her mind of things, such as working on an extra-credit project. She almost smiled, thinking over their unlikely friendship once more. Reaching for a quill, she pulled a fresh piece of parchment from her bag and began to pen a response.

xXx

It was after dinner when Hermione began to make her way across the grounds toward the lake. Hogwarts was situated in the highlands so she wasn't sure precisely where Malfoy had intended for them to go to continue working on their project. She really did think of it as 'theirs' now, though she maintained that she wouldn't let anyone try and push Draco out of the picture when it came time to present their findings to the Charms Committee at the Ministry. She'd had dinner at Hagrid's hut with Harry and Ginny, finding comfort in the familiar atmosphere, as well as knowing that no Slytherin would ever deign to pay the Groundskeeper a visit. Now she was on her way to meet Draco, a light pack slung over her shoulder containing quills, ink, and parchment, and her wand securely in its sheath, ready to get down to business.

"Evening, Gr—Hermione," Draco called, rising to his feet from where he'd been sitting, watching the water. A gentle breeze blew up, feathering his hair, and he lifted a hand to brush it out of his eyes. He offered her a faint smile of greeting and she summoned an equally slim curve of her lips in return.

"Hello," she said softly, coming to a stop a few feet away. Awkwardness abruptly felt heavy all around her, and she played with the strap of her bag, trying not to stare at Malfoy's hands and arms, imagining them wrapped around her, or his chest, imagining the way it felt to be cradled against it. The wind played with her own hair and she pushed it back, straightening her shoulders. "So, where is this spot you found to practice on? It can't be too nearby, I'd imagine, otherwise the professors wouldn't have left it alone in their quest to make things safe for the first years." Her tone was brisk and professional, and Hermione risked a glance at Draco. He was watching her with a slightly wary expression.

"Oh, it's a bit of a journey from here," he said after a pause, eyeing her with a look that suggested he wasn't completely convinced by her performance of Being Just Fine.

Ignoring his look, Hermione stepped closer, scanning the vast lake as she listened to the waves gently lapping on the shore. Water always soothed her. Some days she wished her family lived by the ocean, but Hogwarts' lake was a pretty good substitute. The sun was low in the sky, sinking earlier in its trajectory as fall trekked on toward November. "How long will it take to walk there?"

"Oh, we won't be walking," Draco said from behind her, and Hermione turned in confusion. "We'll have to fly if we want to have time to get there and back before curfew."

Hermione stared. "You want to what?" she choked out, blinking at him in shock before turning back to look out over the water, and beyond, to the majestic hills of the Scottish highlands. Just how distant was this spot he'd found? And did she really feel comfortable going so far away just now?

Draco smirked faintly, bending to pick up the sleek Firebolt she'd only just now realized he'd had laying on the grass next to his bag. "I promise not to drop you when we're flying over the lake," he said solemnly, though his eyes danced in the fading light of the setting sun. "Scout's honour."

That remark surprised a faint laugh out of Hermione and she raised an eyebrow at the tall boy across from her. "If you know what a boy scout is, let alone actually were one, I'm best friends with Pansy Parkinson."

Draco's smirk grew, threatening an actual grin, but he didn't contradict her. In all likelihood he'd simply heard the term in passing from a muggleborn or half-blood student and decided to use it now because she was one of the only people he knew who'd see the humour in it. The comment had the desired affect though, making Hermione feel slightly less tense over his proposition, and she knew why she'd come tonight. Draco was the only person who didn't treat her like glass, before, or after, her attack. And she needed that right now, someone who wouldn't just tell her to be strong, but would refuse to let her be anything but.

She eyed Malfoy's broom again. He must know she didn't own a broom, for the very obvious reason of her being terrified of heights, and now he was asking her to not only fly, but apparently to double on a single broom. With him. She bit her lip and tried to mentally talk herself into this ridiculous scheme. She'd flown before, on a Thestral even—which was worse, she told herself, because then she hadn't been able to see her ride, at least now she could both see and touch the broomstick. But still…

"We don't have to go, Hermione," Draco was saying, his smirk now gone and his expression becoming more serious, "but you did agree that investigating the more intense concentrations of dark magic in the hills would be essential to our project. There's only so much we can study on the fringes of the Forest here at Hogwarts."

She could see the sacrifice in his eyes and hear it in his words. He had said 'We don't have to go,', not 'you', not 'I'll go and you can stay here,' as if she was so integral to their work that he wouldn't go ahead without her. He wanted to go though, that was obvious, and he was right about their current study areas being limited, especially after Blaise and his friends had somehow ended up stumbling into the very clearing that they'd been working in before. But one look at his face told her that working on the Charm was only half the reason he'd asked her to meet him that night.

She needed to get ahold of herself. Finally, taking a deep breath, Hermione nodded. At least riding with Draco she wouldn't have to worry about controlling a broom herself.

"Okay," she finally managed, taking a step toward where Draco was standing on the bluff overlooking the lake. "Let's go." She swallowed hard and tried to will her hands to stop trembling. As she drew nearer, Hermione realized that they were standing near the spot where Malfoy had helped her to find flowers for her Herbology project all those weeks ago. It really was a pretty view out across the water.

She watched as Draco lowered his broom and muttered something under his breath, waving a hand across the handle, when he pulled his fingers back the broom hovered at waist height next to him. He mounted first, sliding forward so that there would be room for Hermione to squeeze on behind him.

Hermione hovered anxiously next to Draco for a moment, mentally psyching herself up. She was only now fully comprehending the fact that she'd have to put her arms around Draco's waist—rather tightly for all that—and she was feeling apprehensive for an entirely different reason now. He glanced over his shoulder at her when she didn't immediately climb on, raising an eyebrow, and Hermione hastily did just that.

She ended up sitting side-saddle, as there was only a single set of foot-holds, though the tail-end of the broom was wide enough to hold her small form as long as she sat right up against Malfoy's back. He was currently sitting straight, but adjusted his grip further forward on the handle of his broom as her added weight caused them to bob in the air.

For a moment neither of them said anything, then Draco's voice floated over his shoulder. "You're going to want to hold on, Granger," he said, in a tone that was a shade too neutral to sound completely natural to anyone who was listening closely. "The take-off can be a bit quick if you're not expecting it."

"Oh, um, right," Hermione stammered, turning her head to look at Draco's broad back. Sure, she'd hugged him briefly last night, but this was different. She took a slightly shaky breath and swallowed hard, squaring her shoulders and forcing her arms to reach around his body. Her hands settled lightly against his stomach, and under her fingertips she could feel the warmth of his body, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Malfoy's stomach was taunt muscle beneath her hands, and his whole body seemed to stiffen as she pressed her palms against it. Hermione could feel her face flame at the unexpected intimacy of this arrangement, and was immensely glad that Draco was facing away from her right then. She let out a squeak of surprise when she felt his larger hands suddenly cover hers and draw her arms tighter around his body, such that she abruptly found herself with her cheek pressed up against his back.

"You'll need to hold on tighter than that, if you really don't intend to take a midnight swim in the lake, Hermione," she heard him say dryly, though his hands seemed to stay pressed over hers for a little longer than was maybe necessary. "The, er, air force can be strong when we're going fast, and you don't want to slide off," he added, sounding a little distracted. A moment later she felt Draco shift his weight, preparing to kick off. "Ready?"

She wanted to tell him she'd changed her mind, jump off back onto solid ground while it was still only a foot away from her, but instead Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face into the material of Malfoy's shirt. "Y-yes—no!—J-just go!" she squeaked, her fingers tightening convulsively as she tensed in preparation for take-off.

The broom bobbed as Draco shoved off from the ground, fitting his feet into the metal footholds under the tail twigs as they lifted toward the sky, and a moment later, cold air rushed past Hermione on all sides, the wind forcing her hair out behind her in streaming waves, and Hermione found all reservations about touching Draco Malfoy shoved out of her mind—she clutched onto him for dear life, a yelp of fear wrenched from her lips and half-swallowed by the wind. He hadn't been lying about the quickness of their ascent, but he levelled off sooner than Hermione thought he would, and the wind eased off around them.

"Doing ok back there?" she heard Draco shout over his shoulder as they coasted out across the water, and Hermione forced her eyes open. The water was full of tiny whitecaps, the waves rippling with the pinks, oranges, and golds of the setting sun. She felt the breath stolen from her at the beauty below them.

"I'm fine," she called, her arms still tight about Draco's waist, though her face wasn't buried in his back any more, instead her cheek rested lightly against him as she gazed out across the water. She felt the vibration of his chuckle against her skin.

"It's a great view, isn't it?" Draco called back, as if he could read her mind, and she heard the joy in his voice. It was no wonder he was on the Quidditch team if he got such pleasure from being in the air.

"It is," she allowed, "though I'd enjoy it more if I were closer to the ground!"

A laugh vibrated through his ribs and into Hermione's fingertips, the sound stolen by the wind, and a second later the broom swooped downwards, arcing toward the water. Hermione shrieked, clutching at Draco desperately as they sped downwards, but he pulled up at the last moment, levelling off a few feet above the waves.

"Oh, I hate you!" Hermione cried, her face pressed into his back once more, eyes screwed tightly shut, but she could feel Draco laughing despite her words.

"No, you don't," he called back, and she managed to open her eyes in time to see the way he'd turned on his broom to look at her, his grey eyes dancing.

"You think this is funny?" she demanded, focusing on his face so as not to give her stomach another chance to flip over.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," he called back, voice flip, a grin on his face.

She poked her fingers into his ribs, hard enough to cause that smirk to vanish and Malfoy to yelp in surprise at the sudden pain, but her revenge was short-lived, as he swerved to the side in an automatic response to avoid a second attack—despite having nowhere to actually go. "Hey, watch it, Granger!" he shouted, sounding not nearly as repentant as she would have liked. "If you keep messing with the driver of this broom you'd better know how to swim!"

Hermione resisted poking him again, and finding that, bizarrely, she almost felt like laughing herself after their exchange. Somewhere, deep inside her, she felt her heart start to mend the smallest bit.

xXx

Draco was thankful for the many years he had spent on a broomstick. Hermione was pressed firmly to him, her cheek resting against his shoulder, hands held tightly over his stomach as they flew high above the restless lake below. He angled the broom down into a sharp dive, mimicking the sensation of his stomach turning upside down. When she dug her fingers into his side Draco did his best to keep them in the air despite trying to escape Hermione's errant fingers. A smile split his face and he felt happy and carefree, two things he'd seldom felt in tandem. He also felt something else, something gentle and warm that radiated throughout his body.

It wasn't a familiar feeling, nothing as demanding as desire. No, this was far more tender and very confusing. It made his heart speed up in his chest and his hands grow clammy against the wood of the broom handle. He wasn't quite sure he liked this feeling. Draco had never been one for exploring his feelings as they had been simple ones until now. When something happened that he didn't like he felt angry, and when something went his way Draco was happy. When Hermione held him close like this, laughed like that, teased him, Draco felt...he didn't know, like he couldn't breathe, like he was seeing for the first time in his life, as if his bones were like to jump right out of his skin and dance a happy jig.

"How much further do we have left to go?"

Draco jolted out of his thoughts at the sound of Hermione's voice behind him. Gods she was so close he could feel the words vibrating along his spine. "Not—" Draco cleared his throat, the word strained and hoarse. He tried again. "Not much longer." He pointed and he felt his shoulder cool when she lifted her face to look in the direction he indicated. "Just there, in that clearing. There's an abandoned building." It was barely visible, but Draco could make out the foundation of what once was a home.

"Are you sure it's safe?" Hermione asked, and Draco could hear her trepidation.

Draco had wondered the same thing when he'd first seen it. He'd been out flying and contemplating his life, frustrated by just how arduous of a journey his path to redemption was turning out to be, when he'd seen the crumbling building. He'd flown lower, wary of what might be lurking out of sight. He hadn't gotten far when he'd felt it: dark magic. It was small, and concentrated around what Draco discovered must have been the fireplace of the dilapidated home. He'd assumed dark potions must have been concocted there, and many of them. Unwilling to go further, Draco had moved away to further explore the surrounding area and found there was not much more to see. It was well and truly abandoned.

"I hope so," Draco tossed over his shoulder, his smirk evident in his tone. Hermione, deciding she didn't like that answer, dug another finger into his side and Draco yelped again, the broom jerking upward as he hauled on it in surprise. He felt Hermione slide back on the broom, his name a curse and a plea yelled into his back as her arms constricted around him in a death grip. Draco gasped out a laugh as he righted them. "Hermione please," he laughed as he reached down to loosen her grip. "I can't breathe!"

"I almost died and you have the nerve to laugh!" she snapped, and her grip loosened, if only slightly.

"If you would stop poking me maybe you wouldn't have," Draco said with a roll of his eyes, unbothered by her tone. "Besides, you didn't almost die. That's a bit dramatic." Draco felt her fingers flex against his stomach and he knew she wanted to poke him again. He smirked.

"Stop smirking," Hermione grumbled.

Draco laughed again. "I'm not," he lied.

They finally reached the clearing and Draco guided them down in a gentle landing, deciding he'd had enough fun scaring Hermione for the time being. She hopped off of the broom on unsteady legs and Draco popped up into the air, still flying for two, before he settled both feet on the ground. Used to the transition between flying and landing he dismounted with his customary grace. He reached out a hand to steady Hermione, a shiver running through him at the loss of her body heat at his back. She was wind blown, her cheeks flushed from the flight and Draco found that he was quite charmed by it.

Without thinking he reached forward and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, his fingers skating featherlight against the chilled skin. A second later Draco realized what he had done and he jerked back, turning away from her to survey the clearing. He could feel heat crawling up his neck and face. Why had he done that? Yes the two of them were getting along these days, but to touch her in such a companionable way was most unlike him. He took a step closer to the crumbling foundation and pivoted to look back at Hermione, and was met with a strange expression on her face. Draco smiled and gestured opulently at the scene before them, trying his best to distance himself from what he'd just done. "Behold, a home fit for a queen."

Hermione took it in stride, though he could see her colour had risen as well. She walked past him, her hand going unconsciously to the ear Draco had touched. Draco bit his lip to restrain his smile. She was cautious as she approached, her eyes moving over the precarious piles of rocks that had once been walls, over what had clearly been a well, and an overgrown path of cobbles. "What happened here? It looks like the house exploded." She continued forward until she was standing in what used to be the doorway, her body stiff as she turned towards the remains of the fireplace. "This is it, I can feel it." She turned to look at Draco, eyes lit up in a way that he'd only ever seen them do when she was faced with a problem that needed working through.

Her excitement was contagious. Draco nodded, smiling as he walked past her and stood as close as he dared to the dark magic roiling nearly invisible on the hearthstones. "My guess is this is the result of a potion gone wrong. You can even see scorch marks if you look closely enough."

Hermione joined him, her wand already in hand. "I almost feel sorry for whoever this happened to," she uttered, her brows furrowed as she looked at the damage around them. "Shall we give it a try?" She peered up at Draco, looking as unsure as Draco felt.

"I suppose it would be a waste if we didn't." Draco said, though, if he were being honest with himself, the experience of Hermione riding on a broom behind him held its own merit. Again those confusing feelings welled up inside him and Draco had to breathe deep to focus himself. He flicked his wrist releasing his wand into his hand with barely a sound. No mind that the wand holster was Ministry grade and only legal for Aurors to carry, Draco had but to ask and his father had gotten it for him. There were moments in which Draco was still the spoiled child of his past, but this had been something a little different than him stomping his foot and demanding whatever it was that caught his eye.

He remembered it clearly: his father had been in his study staring down at a blank piece of parchment when Draco knocked on the door and caught his attention. His father had been brooding and easy to ire, and although Draco firmly believed his father deserved his fate, it was still hard to watch him descending so low. And so he had come to ask his father for a gift, knowing that Lucius would take pride in providing for him, even if it were something as small as a wand holster. Lucius had been slow to pull himself from his thoughts which was alarmingly uncommon, but once he'd understood, Draco's father had taken to the task with alacrity. The next morning Draco had come to breakfast and found a smartly wrapped gift next to his place setting. His mother had smiled at him, knowing what he'd done for Lucius, and his father had been more present that week than he had in months. It was an oddly cherished memory for him, filled with equal parts resentment at his father for making Draco care about his feelings after all that he had done, and tenderness.

A hand on his arm brought him back to the present and Draco had to wonder at his roving mind these days. It seemed he was bound to lose himself in sentimentality. He grimaced, displeased by the notion. "Shall I try it first?" Draco offered holding his wand up and aiming it at the dark energy before them. Hermione took a prudent step back as Draco widened his stance and began the charm. "Sana Cresco," he intoned, magic flowing out his wand to envelop the pulsating orb. It formed a glowing barrier that held strong for a second then dissipated with a loud crackling noise. Draco frowned and tried it again, concentrating hard on the pronunciation and willing his magic to do his bidding. The barrier held longer this time and the dark magic shrank within it, but again it did not work as planned.

"Let me try," Granger said stepping forward, her face set with determination. Draco moved back and watched as her efforts met with similar results. She frowned and stared at the magic, thinking. Her face cleared and she glanced over at Draco. "We should try doing the Charm together, Draco. With our magics combined I'm sure we'll have more favourable results."

"Brilliant idea, Hermione," Draco agreed with a nod. "With the two of us working together we should be able to overwhelm the magic completely."

"On the count of three?" Hermione said, her gaze trained on the magic before them.

"Yes," Draco affirmed, levelling his wand at the hearthstones.

"One...two...three!"

"Sana Cresco!" they said in unison, and magic poured from the ends of their wands to twine around the dark energy in a protective layer of shining light. Draco's magic flowed silvery and pale next to Hermione's golden opulence. It was hard to look at, and Draco swore he could feel Hermione's magic running alongside his own like a caress. It was strangely intimate, but Draco didn't find the sensation disagreeable. It reminded him of how Hermione would touch him randomly when talking to him, grabbing his arm, bumping shoulders with him. Focus, Draco! He pushed out more magic and felt Hermione's magic surge forward as well, which made Draco think that maybe she could feel his magic too. They watched as the darkness shrank against the force of their combined efforts, crackling much like Draco's magic had when he'd tried the Charm on his own, until it dissipated with a hiss.

"Ha!" Draco cheered, breathless with the effort of it all. Sweat gathered at his temples and his body felt hot and energized all at once. He turned to Hermione and laughed, gripping her about the shoulders as he did a little hop. "Hermione, it worked! The Charm works!"

Hermione smiled up at him looking a little winded herself. "Of course it worked; we have two of Hogwarts brightest students working on it!"

Draco's smile was haughty and he straightened his tie and brushed at his sleeves, milking the moment "Bright, am I?" he said teasingly.

"Don't let it go to your head," she said, her lips tilting to the side as she squinted at him, laughter in her dancing eyes. Her expression turned serious as she looked back at the fireplace. "I am worried about the implications though. If it took the both of us to dispel this tiny bit of magic…" she trailed off, biting her lip. "Suppose next time we try Sana Converte Cresco? Converte may help pick up where Cresco is falling short."

"Wand movement may aid as well," Draco added, tapping his bottom lip with a long slender finger in thought. "It's obvious that the Charm needs improvement, but what is all this for if not for working out the kinks."

Hermione nodded, putting her wand away. "I do believe we're on to something here, Draco. This could change the Wizarding World as we know it. This could do a lot of good."

Draco knew. He was thrown back to the time when Aurors and Cursebreakers had flooded the manor, confiscating dark artifacts and heirlooms alike, in search of anything nefarious. They'd even taken portraits to interview extensively, as their testimonies would be taken as evidence in his father's trial. Draco remembered gathering with his mother and father in the portrait room to hear what they had to say, all of his ancestors clamouring to tell their story as they bunched together in the ever growing family portrait. Some had been very forthright with the aurors, while others had given their interrogators a hard time, having decided that ambiguity was the best policy. Draco has found the process hard to watch. Complete strangers were ransacking his childhood home, all the while cutting accusatory and judgmental glances at the Malfoy family. He'd chosen to explore the grounds during most of it, unable to stomach the scene. It was then that Draco knew he had to do something to restore his name. He'd felt helpless, not something he was used to, and he'd decided that he wouldn't be a victim all his life. He'd watched some of his fellow students as they descended into a dark depression, had almost become a victim to it himself, but that was no way to live a life. He had his whole life ahead of him, even if the path seemed treacherous and disheartening, he would do it, do whatever it took, to live up to his full potential.

"I know," he said, his voice solemn and hushed. He looked at Granger, heaving in a large breath and smiling wistfully. "I just hope everyone sees it that way."

Granger's smile matched his own. "The people who matter will see it for what it is, Draco. As for the others, well, only time will tell. We can't let the past spoil the future. It won't be easy, nothing worthwhile ever is, but we can't let that stop us."

Draco saw a deep sincerity in her eyes and he had to look away, a lump forming in his throat. Buoyed by the success of their work that evening, and the presence of Hermione at his side encouraging him, Draco felt motivated in a way that he hadn't when it was just him tolling away at the Charm on his own. He was happy that he'd decided to take a chance and ask Hermione to join him on this endeavour. He had always believed that working alone would produce the best results, but this partnership was proving that line of thinking to be false.

"We should get going if we want to be back in time for curfew," he said, turning and making his way back to the broomstick. "Would you like to try flying us this time?" he asked with a smirk.

xXx

Classes resumed with much fanfare. The rumour mill churned with new hearsay, everyone badgering Draco for the truth of what had happened during the weekend. Some said that Granger had gotten really drunk and started a fight involving Draco and Blaise. Others purported that Draco himself had been the drunk one, that he had started a row with Blaise over Sylvia, of all people, and somehow Granger had been caught up in it all. The one Draco found the most amusing was the version where he and Blaise had gotten into it over a game of cards. Draco, sore over losing an egregious amount of galleons to Blaise's prowess, had caused a scene, and when Hermione, busy body that she was, tried to stop it, she'd gotten hurt. Amusing solely because Draco knew he'd never be bested by Blaise at cards, though he balked at the notion that he was responsible for any injury to Hermione.

"Classe, settle down! Settle down now, please!"

The crowd around Draco dissipated with much reluctance. Draco settled down in his seat with Phil and, interestingly enough, Sylvia, to the left and right of him. Sylvia had sought Draco out that morning as he was preparing to leave for breakfast. Her eyes were red and she looked as if she hadn't gotten much sleep.

"Mind if I join you?" Sylvia tossed her head, her hair falling from her face in shining waves. "I'm finding the previous company I was in unagreeable at the moment."

Draco chuckled. "I'm glad you're able to finally see that. Blaise was no good for you, or anyone, let alone himself. I think he's truly on a path to self destruction, and I'm glad to see you're unwilling to fall with him."

Sylvia raised one shoulder, her tone airy. "I know a sinking ship when I see one." She grabbed his arm and turned towards the door. In true Slytherin fashion, Sylvia glazed over the issue at hand. "I'm famished, shall we go?"

And so the three of them had gone to Potions together after breakfast, a strong front in the face of the scrutinizing looks everyone one gave them upon entering the classroom. Draco, used to the attention by now, nudged Phil and pointed to a row of seats near the supply closet.

"Malfoy! I heard you got your arse handed to you this weekend!"

"I heard he was fighting over Melville, seems it's true!"

"I thought it was Hermione Granger he was fighting over?"

Voices overlapped as the class debated what happened.

"Ignore them Draco," Sylvia whispered to him, her fingers digging into his arm where she clung to him.

"No," he said to her, gently pulling her hand from his arm. If they wanted to make a spectacle of it all, Draco would end it here and now. He stepped forward and addressed the class, and although his voice was not loud everyone ceased speaking to hear him. His face set in icy seriousness, Draco spoke. "It is true that there was an altercation this weekend," he admitted, and gazed around the room, unflinching. "But it is also true that the circumstances of that altercation are none of your business. It was handled, and the proper repercussions assigned. I suggest that the lot of you behave like the 8th years you are and show some decency. If you wish to stay in the past and behave like depraved children that is your choice, but I, for one, am choosing differently." With that, he made his way to his seat.

Unsurprisingly, that did not satisfy the masses, as they flocked to Draco and his two companions when they took their seats. The onslaught didn't stop until the professor entered the class and ordered everyone to be seated.

That was also when Blaise Zabini entered the room.

Draco didn't notice him until the professor stopped talking mid sentence. He looked up from his supplies to see everyone looking at the door. He turned and saw Blaise swaggering into the room, smirking and slightly bruised, with a few of the more disreputable Slytherins at his back. Draco froze, unable to process what his eyes were seeing. Beside him he could feel the tension rolling off of Sylvia, and Phil hummed in disapproval. The silence that fell was deafening, and Draco felt his whole body tense as Blaise neared his table. He stood, fists clenched, wand already in hand, as Blaise ignored him and chose the empty table beside their own.

"What in the bloody hell—" Draco began, filled with righteous anger, but he was cut off by another voice.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your class professor." It was McGonagall, her face pinched and severe. She had eyes only for Blaise, who stood frozen behind his table, his face pallid and blank of emotion. Behind her stood two formidable Aurors dressed in the customary red robes that distinguished them. "But I must ask that Blaise Zabini come with me."

Draco's smirk was a nasty one as he turned to look at Blaise, and he relaxed. He re-holstered his wand with a flick of his wrist and crossed his arms arrogantly before him, waiting for his former friend's reaction.

"Headmistress," Blaise said unctuously, his hands held up before him in a placating manner. "There must be some mistake. I believe our business was concluded earlier." His smile was a creamy one, dripping with condescension and hauteur.

McGonagall's smile was tight. "The matter is now out of my hands, Mr. Zabini. Now, if you would come along—"

"No." The word dropped like a stone from Blaise's lips. He shifted, legs planted firmly, and he looked ready to fight. Behind him stood Blakely and Wittlesbrite, doing their best to look intimidating, but the effort was lackluster in the face of the two Aurors now approaching them. "My mother—"

"Your mother," McGonagall cut in, drawing herself up to her full height, thin frame imposing as the light from the windows of the hall filtered in behind her, "did her best to beguile and coerce me into doing her bidding, but the fact of the matter is that real life does not work that way, Mr. Zabini. It is a hard lesson to learn, but one that holds much benefit if one is willing to learn it."

The Aurors had reached Zabini now, each one now holding firmly to either of Blaise's arms. They marched him unceremoniously to the door and Blaise did not struggle against them, which was for the best if he didn't want to further embarrass himself.

Draco was tempted to spit on the floor as they passed him but he determined that he was bigger than that, that he would not lower himself to such juvenile behaviour. He took his satisfaction in the anger on Blaise's face, in the way Wittlesbrite and Blakely seemed to flounder without Blaise before them.

The Headmistress stepped astutely out of the way as the Aurors passed with Blaise in tow, then she nodded at the professor who stood gobsmacked at the head of the class. "Again, my apologies for interrupting your class, Professor. Please proceed as usual." She turned to the class and gave them all a smile that sent a shiver down Draco's spine. "Have a nice rest of your day." The door closed with a solid thud behind them.

Draco sat with grace, his body shaking with adrenaline and unspent anger. "I suppose that's that," he said to no one in particular, and only then thought to seek out Hermione. She sat between Potter and the Weaselette, her face ashen as they whispered to her. Their eyes met across the room and Draco returned her gaze with a raised eyebrow. She looked away and turned to nod at Ginny, placating her, as far as Draco could tell.

The class broke out in barely suppressed whispers, and Draco could practically hear the rumours working and reworking themselves to account for what had just happened.

"I'm sure what just happened was for the good," Phil said to Draco's left, sounding uncertain. "But somehow I feel like that only made matters worse."

"I'll say," Sylvia agreed. She turned to Draco, her sharp features turned down in a frown. "I think you should put an end to all the rumours. They'll just keep spinning and spinning otherwise."

Draco agreed, but he knew it wasn't his place to do such a thing. That would be up to Hermione, if she said anything at all. He completely understood if she chose not to address any of it, but he thought that it would be easier on her if everyone knew the truth. Not that they would be inclined to believe it, but for Draco's sake he hoped she would.

xXx

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