A/N:This was one of my favorite chapters to write. I hope you enjoy reading it as much I enjoyed creating it.

Per the usual, these are not my characters, they belong to JKR.

Chapter 5

Companionable silence is all well and good, but as Draco soon found out, when you become friends with Hermione Granger, silence was a rare commodity.

"Just what do you think you're doing?'

"I'm grinding the valerian root in case it escaped your attention."

"You're mauling it, more like. Here, give it to me." She pulled the mortar and pestle toward her while glaring.

Draco's lips pulled inward suppressing a laugh at her outrage.

She began scraping the pestle against the sides of the mortar, the root becoming a fine powder as she worked. "You see, the head of the pestle should be in contact with the side of the mortar, pounding it only scatters the ingredients."

Draco put his hands over hers to still her movements, "I know how to prepare the ingredients, I'm as skilled as you at potions."

Hermione huffed. "But you were pounding instead of grinding."

Draco dissolved into full bellied laughter, falling back onto his stool. Around the classroom eyes turned toward them. Hermione stalled in her preparations as she blushed at the attention. Slughorn shot Draco a narrow-eyed glare and cleared his throat.

"What's so funny, Malfoy?" Hermione hissed.

Draco wiped the mirth from his eyes and recovered the stone implement. The others went back to minding their stations and his shoulders shook in silent amusement as he began to grind the roots. "If I had known being potions partners with Hermione Granger would be so entertaining I would have done it ages ago." He mused to himself.

Hermione swatted his shoulder with the back of her hand. "What are you on about?"

He looked at her, eyebrows raised, waiting for her to get the joke. When she simply returned his expression he leaned in, speaking quietly so only she could hear, "So which so you prefer Granger, grinding or pounding?" When he pulled back she was blushing furiously.

"Just prepare the ingredients," She mumbled tucking her hair behind her ear and turning back to her book.

"As you wish milady." Her blush got deeper.

"I've made you a time table."

Draco took the parchment in his hands and began to unfold it, by the time he opened the last flap it extended just beyond the borders of the library table. It was organized into columns, his classes listed on the left and dates from then to the end of the year across the top. Class assignments were filled in with target dates for completion and suggested supplemental reading and activities listed throughout. He didn't want to tell Granger, but it was very thorough and would likely be a tremendous help.

He folded the parchment up, tucked it into his bag, and returned to the book in front of him. He heard her little scoff and could clearly picture the look of indignation on her face, but he would not give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it.

She huffed louder as she sat down in the seat across from him and began unpacking her materials. Draco was barely able to concentrate on his reading as her irritation with him flared and she slammed a large volume down; ruffling his parchments and forcing him to meet her eyes.

He simply raised one eyebrow in question. "Well?" She needled.

"Did you finish the translation in runes today? I thought the last three lines were rather ambiguous myself."

She drew herself up, preparing for a lecture. "There was nothing ambiguous at all about them." She scoffed, Draco smirked at his successful redirection, she continued, "The cross hatching clearly indicated the translation was 'by the moon and sun one finds their way' the 'and' thusly implying they must both be considered, if the hatching were oriented more vertically, I could understand your confusion, since that would translate as 'or'. But then of course…" He held up a hand to stop her, smirk still in place

"Thank you for the time table, Granger."

She exhaled and let her shoulders drop. "You're welcome."

He watched her organize her books, quills, ink, and parchment. When she finally opened her Arithmancy book and her quill was poised to begin writing he struck. "Maybe I can finally beat you in grades for once." Her head slowly rose, her eyes wide. "And it will all be thanks to you." He pointed at her with his quill and gave her a conspiratorial wink.

She gave a little growl, and hurriedly returned to her work. He could feel the waves of frustration rolling off of her as she furiously scratched out equations and grumbled to herself.

He couldn't help but chuckle at how cute she was with her hackles up. Nudging her foot with his under the table she finally looked up again. He shot her a real grin. "Truly, Granger, thank you."

She relaxed once more giving him a nod and returned to her work. This time the quill traversed to parchment at a more reasonable rate and pressure.

Hermione groaned in satisfaction. "These are incredible."

"She only makes them on special occasions."

She reached in the tin for another. "I don't know what the occasion was, but these would make anything special."

Draco hummed in amusement, and agreement, as he selected a hand-made chocolate truffle from the tin.

He savored the rich confection, his eyes closed, breathing in the crisp Scotish breeze coupled with the deep earthy aroma of the chocolate. When he opened his eyes, it was to find Hermione's dancing in delight, and her teeth in her bottom lip, the threat of laughter on her face. "What? Is there chocolate on my face?" He began to swipe at the corners of his mouth.

She released the laugh now, "No, I just think it sweet is all."

"Chocolate is sweet. That's the general idea."

"Not the chocolate." She slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "That mummy still sends 'her little dragon' treats." Her smirk was vicious as he narrowed his eyes at her. Did she see the card? She broke into full blown laughter, falling backwards in the grass. Yes. She saw the card.

Draco huffed in annoyance and turned toward the lake with his arms crossed over his knees. Her laughter stopped and he heard a sigh, "I'm sorry, Draco." This was the first time he remembered her saying his first name. He turned to look at her. Those eyes, as dark chocolate as the truffles, beseeched him for forgiveness, he tried to harden his stare against their wiles. She giggled again, "Oh, lighten up you big mama's boy." She shoved him playfully on the shoulder. "My grandmother always said you could tell a lot about a man from his relationship with his mother."

Draco ate another chocolate while he considered her words. "What can you tell about me?" He asked, his eyes fixed on the lake and his voice just above a whisper.

He wasn't sure she'd heard him, but after a few long moments she answered, "I think you value your family; that you understand, better than most, the power of forgiveness and second chances. And despite the tough persona you armor yourself with, you know that love is a force more powerful than any other."

Turning back to the lake, he nodded, his eyes distant.

"My grandmother sent more blood orange." Hermione riffled through her bag and shortly produced the plump fruit." Instead of a knife, she dug her finger nail into the top and peeled the skin back and divided it into wedges. "It's my last one, seems only fair to reciprocate for the gorgeous truffles." She offered him a wedge.

"Tell me more about your grandmother."

Hermione squeaked in surprise her mouth full of orange. She swallowed quickly, a bright smile lighting her features. "She's one of a kind. She's a muggle." He fixed her with a look that said 'duh', she lightly shoved him again, he waved for her to continue. "She moved to Spain, when I was six. Said she always wanted to live by the sea and have an orchard."

"She couldn't live by the sea in Britain and have an orchard?"

"Fair point, but I think it was the adventure… the romance of it all. Moving to the Mediterranean, being truly on her own for the first time."

Draco scrunched his brow in confusion. "My grandfather had passed on the year previous." He nodded solemnly in understanding. "He and my grandmother were always planning and scheming about their next trip. They loved to just wander… get lost for a day, see what they could find to get up to."

"She sounds like fun. My grandparents would hit me with a stinging jinx if my posture fell during tea." He waved off her look of shock, "Go on, I want to hear more."

Her expression became far off once again and she lie back in the grass, the clouds reflecting in her eyes, Draco, taking a chance reclined as well.

"She was the first person to know about my magic. When I was four, she gathered up a picnic and we hiked… it seemed like miles at the time, but I'm sure it was only to the field by her house. Anyway, she spread out this patchwork quilt and opened her hamper and pulled out silver platters of scones, petit fours, chocolates…" Her face met his with a smile which he returned readily. "And real china tea cups and saucers. She had prepared tea in a thermos."

"What's a thermos?"

"An insulated container for keeping liquid warm or cold and has a lid to prevent spills," she explained quickly. "So here we are having tea and a butterfly flitters past, so of course, four year old that I was, I began to chase it, my hand out hoping it would land on my finger. When it didn't, I stomped my foot in a fit, but as soon as my foot connected with the ground, the flowers around me burst from their stems and began to flutter all around my head. My grandmother said she thought it was some trick of the wind, until I began to run about the meadow and the fluttering flowers trailed after me. I didn't notice anything was strange and she just calmly led me back to the blanket for tea. She's been my confidant about magic since." Draco saw a simple joy and peace etched on her face as she turned to him. "What happened when you did magic for the first time?"

"I blew up my mother's favorite vase and was sent to my room without dessert."

Her laughter echoed over the Black Lake.

The wind whipped through Draco's hair as he dipped and dove on his broom. His cheeks stung with the chill, but he pushed his broom faster and faster, tucking his body low over the handle. He let his mind wander and disconnect as he circled the pitch at top speed, made hair pin turns and risky practice feints.

He let his feet touch down softly in the grass before launching himself straight toward the sky; but as he rocketed forward he heard someone calling his name. He pulled up on the handle to stop his ascent and looked over his shoulder to see silhouetted figure at the entrance to the pitch; but she was unmistakable with her voluminous hair.

Turning the broom around he shot toward her at top speed. To her credit she merely fixed him with an admonishing look when he stopped the broom just inches of her before dismounting.

"Can I help you, Granger?" His tone tired and his face that blank mask he'd worn for years.

Hermione's eyes sparked in confusion and her brow furrowed at his cold tone. "You weren't at dinner."

"I know you've spent the better part of the last seven years overseeing the lives of your dunderheaded friends, but rest assured, I'm perfectly capable of caring for myself." He made to remount his broom and take off when he was hit square in the face with a wrapped package. He shot a glare at Hermione, and she returned his fire with her own.

"Well forgive me, won't you, but I thought friends cared about each other's well being." She bent to pick up the wrapped package. When she retrieved it he saw that it was soft dinner rolls filled with chunks of roasted chicken.

She whipped around to leave with a huff, and stomped back toward the castle.

Dropping his broom he raced off to catch her. With just a few hurried strides he was close enough to reach out and grab her shoulder.

She stopped but didn't turn to look at him. "Granger," he rubbed his hand down his face with a sigh, "I got some news this morning, and… and I just needed some time to think."

He felt her deflate, she turned to look at him again and held the chicken rolls out toward him, "You shouldn't think in an empty stomach. Sorry to have intruded." She made to leave once again, and he couldn't let that happen.

"Won't you at least keep me company while I eat?" He called out.

Resigning to his request, she turned and they strolled back to the pitch, taking a seat in the stands. Draco tore into the package of chicken rolls, his hunger meeting him full force. Hermione leaned back on her elbow to the row behind them, looking at the stars.

When he finished his snack, Draco reclined as well, taking in the inky sky. "There you are." Hermione pointed to the cluster of stars in the Draco constellation.

Draco made a noise of derision. "Being kept down by the man like always."

Confusion painted her features. "Hercules. He's got his big fat foot right on my head." Draco gestured angrily toward the sky.

"I'm certain your using a metaphor right now, but I'm afraid I'll need more information."

Rifling in his cloak, he presented her with a letter; the seal was broken and it looked as if it had been crumpled and then straightened. She opened it and mumbled silently as she read the contents, she gasped and turned toward Draco, her face alight with excitement. "They ended your probation!"

'Yes, and now I'm expected to take up the mantle as the Head of house Malfoy."

"Is this why I saw you storm out of the counseling office today?"

He deflected, "What were you doing at the counseling office?"

"Just because no one mandated I have therapy doesn't mean I don't need it." She ducked her head chewing on her bottom lip, her hair falling in her face.

Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed. She stood to leave and a soft touch to her wrist stopped her. She stilled and waited for him. "I should not take my frustrations out on you." She nodded, he continued, "Fly with me." He descended to the next step and mounted his broom, motioning for her to take a seat in front of him. "I know you don't like to fly, but I promise I'll go slow and you won't fall."

Her eyes sparked, "Who says I don't like to fly?"

"I've only seen you fly once… in the Room of Requirement." His voice fading on the last part.

"Well… I'll have you know," she extended her arm and a broom flew into her outstretched hand, "I can sit a broom just fine. I am a witch after all." And with those words she mounted the broom and shot off into the sky.

Mouth agape for several moments Draco watched her begin a series of lazy spirals around the pitch; wild curls flying behind her as she rose higher and higher. With a renewed smirk, he launched himself to join her.

They flew for almost an hour before Draco was struck with hunger once more.

Hermione practically dragged him to the kitchen.

They arrived at the kitchen with no incident. Hermione tickled the pear and the portrait opened onto a scene of bustling house elves, levitating dishes, and charmed cleaning equipment.

Once spotted by the elves the pair were shuffled into seats around a small scrubbed wooden table. "What would the young Granger and Malfoy be wanting this evening?" asked a sprightly elf, an apron fixed securely around her waist.

Hermione, who was summarily rebuffed in her efforts to help the elves, simply asked for a tea and biscuits, if it wouldn't be too much trouble and only if you're sure you aren't too busy; but Draco had bigger plans in mind and soon a roast beef sandwich dripping with thick gravy, a side of fresh crisps, a bowl of fruit, and a cold pumpkin juice was placed before him.

They each ate silently, but when Draco swallowed the last bite of his fruit, Hermione asked, "Why are you upset about your probation ending? I would have thought that's a good thing."

"It is a good thing. I think I was just caught off guard by the ramifications of it."

"Those being?"

"Being a head of my house for one," he said giving her a look that indicated she could have figured that on her own.

She pursed her lips at him and motioned to continue. "I just never saw myself as the head of house, at least not at this age. Say what you will about my father, but he had a presence. He commanded attention and respect."

"But is commanding respect the best way to go about it? Wouldn't you rather earn people's respect.

"Just how am I to do that?"

She rolled her eyes. "The way you've already been earning it. By being more than just a talking head, and contributing more than just money to reconstruction. By spending your time rebuilding this castle and Diagon Alley. Forging friendships and relationships with people whom you were once in opposition… by being a leader through actions more than just words."

The resolution in her voice was enough, but he saw the truth in her eyes; Hermione Granger held him in respect, she believed he was a leader… she saw him as a friend.

"Thank you, Granger," Draco finally spoke, his voice thick with the emotion of the moment.

A scarlet hue rose in her cheeks as she bit her lip, ducking her head. "There's nothing to thank me for."

He reached across the table, putting his hand over hers; she looked up at the contact, her eyes sparkling bronze in the torchlight of the kitchen, "There are innumerable things to thank you for… but primarily for looking past our history and giving me a chance." He paused, his gaze going distant, "I'm not sure it's a chance I deserve."

"Of course it is!"

Scoffing at her indignance. "How can you want to save me when I didn't even try to save you?"

"What could you have done? Attack your aunt and get us both killed?"

He shrugged, but his eyes landed back on the fiery witch across from him; on the scar left on her neck by his aunt's dagger.

Hermione pulled herself up straight, extending her neck and flipping her wild curls behind her shoulder. "I am not ashamed of this scar-of any of my scars-I was hurt, but I heeled and the scars are a reminder of all I went through to still be standing here today. I will wear my scars proudly."

Draco pulled the corners of his mouth into a grin of reluctant acceptance. Reaching out as if to touch the scar on her neck, much to his surprise, she leaned in, but before coming in contact he dropped his hand. "I've never even apologized."

"It's never too late," she whispered.

His response was several deep breaths later. "I'm sorry."

Hers was immediate. "I know… you're forgiven."

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Thanks as always to Mcal for her support and work as beta.