A/N: Bonus chapter time! I hope you enjoy this little one!
I've cheated a bit with the chosen song because it was released in 2001. BUT - the lyrics were just too apt to not use, and to me Ash will always be a band of the 90s, and as this is a 'bonus' chapter, I thought I could get away with it.
You walk like you're in a daze / Unresponsive eyes in a distant gaze / Like all the good times have flown away / And the memory leaves a bitter taste / Tumbling like the leaves / Yeah we are spiralling on the breeze / Destructive love is all we have / Destructive love is all I am
- Burn Baby Burn, Ash
After the Slytherin Common Room party on Saturday night, Draco didn't see Granger again until their DADA class on Monday morning. She'd missed breakfast both that morning and the day before. Without realising, his eyes had started to unconsciously drift across to the Gryffindor table every morning to see if she was there.
She was late to DADA by about ten minutes, mumbling an apology and sitting down at her desk in the ridiculous semi-circle that Ingleton still insisted on arranging them in. She did not look well. Her hair was even more unruly than usual, her complexion sallow and her eyes were rimmed with a dull purple.
She kept her eyes focused on the desk in front of her as the class chattered in a low monotone and Ingleton bustled around them, collecting the students' latest homework. But when Ingleton got to Granger, there was a pause as the teacher waited, looking down at her empty desk.
"Your homework, Hermione?" Ingleton enquired.
Granger's eyes slid up to look at the teacher.
"I – I haven't done it," she said in a quiet, resigned voice.
The room went deathly silent. There was a stillness, laden with surprise and anticipation. It was unprecedented for Hermione Granger to have not done her homework.
"And why, pray tell, have you failed to complete your homework, Miss Granger?" Ingleton questioned, clearly unimpressed.
Draco watched as Granger shrugged. "I ran out of time. My schedule went...off."
There was a tense pause.
"Your schedule went off?" Ingleton echoed, her voice low and incredulous.
"Yes," Granger stated, her expression unapologetic, uninterested.
"Ten points from Gryffindor. You will have the essay on my desk by tomorrow morning," Ingleton turned to walk to the front of the class. "I trust your schedule will go on again."
An odd sound erupted from Granger – a stifled bark of a laugh. Ingleton spun around and glared at her. "Is something funny?" she snapped.
"Yes, quite a lot of things are," Granger replied, her voice dry and tired.
There was a ripple of murmurings and fidgeting through the class at Granger's response which, like the lack of homework, was also unprecedented. Draco thought of what Pansy had said on Saturday night – about Granger fighting evil, robbing banks and riding dragons – and had to agree that redacting house points as a way of punishing her seemed absurd to the point of hilarity.
But even so, that did not make Granger's behaviour okay. It did not make it okay that her voice was so often devoid of any expression, that the light had died from her eyes, that she wasn't handing in homework – homework that she really should have been able to do with her eyes closed.
Ingleton glared at Granger for an awkwardly long amount of time. "See me after class," was all the teacher said before walking to the front and starting the lesson.
Draco glanced at Potter, trying to see whether Granger's apparent best friend seemed to be grasping how very wrong it all seemed, but he appeared oblivious to anything except his girlfriend whispering in his ear as she stroked his thigh under the table; they were both smiling smugly at each other.
Motherfucking Merlin, Draco found himself thinking, how the fuck had this lot managed to save the wizarding world from the clutches of evil?
Over the next week, Draco tried on several occasions to speak to Potter alone. He shouldn't have been surprised that the Boy Who Lived was always surrounded by a fucking fan club – his girlfriend, or other groupies, or Granger herself – which made it hard to approach him. But finally, during a free period the next Monday afternoon, Draco spied Potter strolling down the hillside on his own, towards the half-giant's hut.
"Potter!" Draco yelled down the hillside and the boy in question, who was about fifty yards in front of him, came to a stop.
Potter turned, a guarded expression falling over his face as he eyed Draco, who was striding to catch up with him.
"Malfoy," Potter greeted cautiously as he came within earshot.
"Potter," Draco said, trying not to let it seem as if he needed to catch his breath, as if he hadn't been running after the fucking Boy Who Sucked.
Potter waited, and Draco wished he'd thought more about what he was actually going to say once he'd managed to get him alone. "I wanted to have a word…about Granger."
Potter frowned. "Hermione? What about her?"
"She just…you know she's hanging around with Pansy a lot? Pansy Parkinson?"
Potter's frown deepened. "Is she?"
"Yes. She came to a party in our common room the other weekend...and has visited a few times since."
Potter looked confused. "Oh...well...I suppose that's probably about the reconciliation efforts and stuff...what with the ball and everything...Hermione's the kind that would want to make the effort with that kind of thing…" Potter said doubtfully.
"I'm not sure if this is about one of her goody-two-shoes missions, Potter... And I really don't think Pansy's the best choice of company for her right now."
His old adversary's lips curled up in distaste. "Oh, so that's what this is about? You have a problem with a Muggle-born hanging out with your ex-girlfriend? "
"No," Draco snapped impatiently, biting back a cutting remark. "I just think she needs some decent friends right now...like you."
"I'm still her friend," Potter objected predictably.
"Are you? Do you know she was off her face on ecstasis last weekend? And that DADA hasn't been the only class that she hasn't handed her homework in?" Draco could have gone on: had he noticed how she couldn't leave her left arm alone for more than half an hour? How she reached to check her wand was still there every twenty minutes? But he held himself back.
"Really?"
Potter looked concerned now, troubled. Draco felt momentarily relieved he seemed to have finally got the message, a feeling that was quickly surpassed by irritation, and he couldn't help bite out, "Maybe if you lifted your head out from between you girlfriend's legs every now and again you'd realise what's happening around you."
Indignation flashed across Potter's face. "Hey –"
Draco instantly regretted his words. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to be disrespectful to Weasley," Draco tried to placate Potter, but immediately ruined his efforts by continuing, "If she were my girlfriend, I'd want to spend most of my time with those legs wrapped around my waist too –"
"Malfoy –" Potter's voice was raised in anger.
"Calm your tits, Potter. That was meant as a compliment. Came out wrong. She's not my type, you don't need to worry." Fuck, where had his filter gone? "Too…sporty. I like girls that are more…cerebral."
"Right," Potter replied uncertainly. Draco could see that Potter was actively trying to calm himself down. And that he clearly had no idea what 'cerebral' meant. Why, except for maybe Theo, was Draco always surrounded by dumbfucks? "Well…. I'll talk to her. Check how she's doing."
Draco gave a curt nod, relieved his work there was done and the conversation was nearly over. "Good." Draco was about to turn away, but something occurred to him, something which had been niggling at the back of his mind for weeks. After a moment of indecision, he finally pushed the question out. "And – erm - Potter... What happened to Granger's parents?"
Potter's body went still. He looked thoughtful, cautious. "What do you mean?"
"Well – I heard – I read they're alive, but she – she talks about them in the past tense?" Draco had actively avoided the papers over the summer, so hadn't taken in much of the gossip that circulated about Granger, but he had read one article which mentioned in passing that her parents had returned from Australia, where they'd spent the war.
Potter looked grave. "Yeah...well...something happened but...but if she hasn't told you, then maybe it's not my place to say... Maybe you should ask her?"
Potter was almost drowning in his own awkwardness, which actually made Draco feel a bit sorry for him.
"Right. Okay," Draco concluded, letting Potter out of his misery. Then, just as they both went to turn away from each other, he called out again. "Oh, and Potter?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't tell Granger we've had this conversation, will you?"
Potter shrugged. "Okay."
There was a pause as the two boys looked at each other. It was as if there were more words that needed to be said – words that were hanging silently in the air between them but were just out of reach.
But after a moment, Draco nodded his head again, turned, and began the climb back up the hill to the school.
It was nearly a week later, on Sunday evening, when Draco's Binding Book came alive again and revealed the next therapy task. Despite watching her closely, Draco hadn't spoken to Granger since the Slytherin party; when Pansy had invited her to the Common Room a few times since, he'd hastily made an escape to his dorm.
Draco was lounging in said dorm with Blaise and Theo, the latter boy sitting precariously on a chest of drawers, strumming his guitar and singing Ben E. King.
"When the night has come….and the land is dark...and the moon is the only light we see…"
Draco, who had taken to keeping his Binding Book in his pocket, reached for it when he felt it warm up.
"No I won't be afraid...oh, I won't be afraid...just as long as you stand, stand by me…"
He'd both wished that the next task would never come, and at the same time had been impatient for it to be revealed, just so the nagging anticipation would be over.
He flicked the book open.
Your Second Task
Your second task is to partake in a physical activity with your partner! This should be something that can be done within Hogwarts Castle, or its grounds, and we encourage you to spend at least an hour and a half on this task. Please do not partake in anything that could be potentially harmful to you or your partner. A list of banned activities is below:
Walking - although this is relatively harmless, it is not sufficiently complex enough to stimulate the development of relationships that are needed for this intervention...
"Oh yeah, me and Red are going to get physical!" Blaise leered from where he was lying on his bed, holding his own Binding Book up to read, and causing Theo to halt his singing.
"If you're making another innuendo I can guarantee you that Potter will Avada you before you've managed to undo her bra," Theo commented dryly.
"And anyway, sexual activity is on the list of banned activities," Draco added sullenly.
"Nah, seriously, I'm not into Ginny like that – you know I'm never interested in people that are already taken... Well, I'm going to suggest flying. It's something we both like – makes sense," Blaise said with a satisfied finality that Draco envied.
"How did it go with your first task?" Theo asked Blaise.
Blaise shrugged. "We just talked Quidditch. She had a go at me for the fact that all my favourite players were Purebloods. I said that that wasn't the reason I like them, but then she said maybe I had an 'unconscious Pureblood supremacist bias'."
"What did you say to that?"
"Made some facetious joke and changed the subject, of course."
Theo smiled wryly. "Well, she could've had a point. I'm reading this book at the moment – Me and Pureblood Supremacy, it's called –"
"Sounds delightful," Blaise quipped.
"Written by Battersby, actually. And it's a bit like a reflective workbook, where you go through all the ways society is systematically pro-Pureblood, or purist, and it makes you question your own biases. You should read it, mate. You both should."
Draco was only half listening. He was wracking his brains, trying to imagine what physical activity he and Granger could possibly do together – he knew it was his turn to decide on the specifics of their task – but his mind was well and truly blank.
"What the hell am I meant to do with Granger? She's as clumsy as fuck and hates sport," he spat, his vitirol born more from agitation at his lack of ideas than derision at Granger's physical agility.
"She was a pretty sharp fighter during the Battle of Hogwarts, from what I hear," Blaise said.
"And from what I saw," Theo added in agreement. He had been the only one out of the three of them that had fought in the battle. Well, that had fought on the right side.
"Are you suggesting we duel?"
"No. With your and Granger's history, that's the worst idea ever," Blaise retorted.
"Maybe suggest a low-key Muggle sport? Like extreme frisbee?"
"Extreme whats-bee?" Blaise queried, and Draco also lowered his book to listen as Theo explained.
"So...they basically throw a flat, circular object at each other and catch it? And that's an extreme sport?" Blaise asked sceptically once Theo had finished.
Theo frowned. "Actually, I'm not sure what makes it extreme exactly…"
As Blaise commenced scribbling in his Binding Book, Theo continued strumming Stand by Me on his guitar.
"This one's not your usual music taste?" Blaise queried, as Draco stared down at his Binding Book, as if he could conjure an idea to appear there with this very eyes.
Theo paused in his playing, and looked down at the carpet pensively, causing Draco to look up at him.
"My mum used to dance around the kitchen to this at home, when she helped the house elves bake scones," Theo murmured. "I don't have that many memories of her, but that one's really vivid. Her singing was beautiful…" It was only since returning to Hogwarts that year that Theo had started to talk about his mother. He'd rarely mentioned her in previous years, even though the Slytherins from their social circle had all known she'd died when Theo was eight. "Her dancing was pretty good too…" he said, his eyes far away, as if he wasn't in the room anymore.
It was Theo's last sentiment that gave Draco the idea. An idea which had him reaching for his Binding Book and silver quill...
Look into my tired eyes / See someone you don't recognize / Binds that can't be untied / Oh this is slow suicide / Feelings that I can't disguise / And later we'll be reconciled / Oh but something inside has died
Burn Baby Burn, Ash
A/N: I based the book 'Me and Pureblood Supremacy' on the actual book 'Me and White Supremacy: how to recognise your privilege, combat racism and change the world' by Layla F Saad. I've always considered myself as 'not racist', but since the killing of George Floyd in May 2020, I decided I wanted to do more, and I thought that beginning with myself, and addressing my own White privilege, was a good place to start. If you are White and want to be actively anti-racist and not just 'not racist' (I've learnt that there is a difference) then I recommend this book :o)
As always, huge, huge thanks to Frumpologist and scullymurphy for being amazing alphabetas.
Your thoughts and comment are, as ever, loved!