Granger was making it far easier than Draco had expected her to. He'd expected, after kissing her the second time, for her to turn into a high maintenance girl and she was anything but. She was being patient and kind and the same Granger he'd come to care for. Granger hadn't even brought up giving whatever they had a name; he'd been begged to give names to relationships before and Draco absolutely despised it when that happened to him. But Granger was willing to keep things normal, though Draco was half sure that was because she was just about as nervous about the entire thing as he was. They'd been enemies before the school year and now they were secretly doing things that enemies definitely shouldn't be doing. Things that Draco was starting to enjoy and often found himself thinking about if he was bored and didn't feel like doing anything else. He didn't kiss Granger often and she didn't usually kiss him either, but Draco found that those were some of his favorite moments to think about. Everything felt natural then, if he could keep his mind away from the thought that the action should never have happened.
Draco shook his head slightly, trying to clear it as he sat in the great hall for lunch. He'd barely focused in Potions, as that class had been spent wondering why Granger hadn't just explained the news about her parents earlier. She'd known for weeks before she'd told him and the words definitely would have made Draco stop being so stubborn and talk to her again. He wanted her to be happy and the fact that her mother was dead had to be what had started affecting her so badly after she'd gotten back. If she would have told him he would have done anything to try and make sure she was all right, as that was what he wanted. He just wanted Granger to be all right.
He'd only found out that morning, and that was nearly a month and a half after she'd left unexpectedly. Draco doubted she wanted to mention the development to him because she'd left the matter alone for so long and she'd been reluctant to explain what had made her stumble out of her room, gasping and crying, as she tried to make it to the bathroom. They'd started coming back out to the common room at night and Draco had been out before her, and her actions had worried him. He'd followed her into the bathroom, feeling incredibly awkward as he'd done so, only to find her sinking to the floor and attempting to dry her eyes. Granger didn't cry often; he'd known something was seriously wrong with her to make that happen. Draco had listened with a neutral expression on his face, as normal, as she'd slowly explained why she'd been gone and the new nightmares she'd been having. In reality he was horrified, as Granger didn't deserve that kind of news, but there wasn't much else he could do besides pat her back gently and attempt to make her feel better with a few quiet words of reassurance.
An angry sigh escaped his lips as the scene replayed through his mind. He was slowly becoming okay with thinking about Granger and what was going on with her, but constantly thinking about her and not being able to drag his mind away for more than five minutes was becoming more and more irritating.
At that thought, he glanced over at the Gryffindor table, trying to spot Granger. She was sitting with her friends, something Draco expected as they were once again growing closer, and there was a small smile on her face. He was slightly pleased to see her happy, but from far across the hall he couldn't tell if the smile reached her eyes. That's when Granger's smile was best; he'd started seeing it once they'd become friends and it had always been very enjoyable.
His head was finally pulled away from his thoughts of Granger when he heard laughing a few seats away from him. Normally he wouldn't think anything of it, Slytherins could laugh, but Draco was sure he'd felt someone's gaze on him seconds ago, when he'd been looking toward Granger. Draco looked at the younger students with narrowed eyes, and caught the eye of a fifth year who only started laughing harder. "Insufferable brats," he muttered, shoving his plate away from him and standing up from the table. He hadn't noticed people laughing at him in a while but he was already annoyed with his thoughts of Granger and the laughing was going to send him over the edge.
He was very prepared to leave the hall and had started walking toward the door when a scream filled his ears. Draco immediately looked to Granger, worried she'd started seeing portions of the battle at random times again, but she caught his gaze and gave him a worried look. The teachers were standing up, looking around in confusion. Before Draco could think of anything else, he ran out of the great hall, well aware that the other delegates, McGonagall, and Potter were behind him.
It wasn't the first years, as Draco had originally thought, because he hadn't seen them that day. Instead there seemed to be a fight between a few Hufflepuff third years, who were screaming about something Draco definitely didn't care enough about. He rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest, watching Granger and Boot walk over to the girls to try and calm them down. McGonagall, who was only just getting to the entrance hall, looked absolutely furious and went over to yell at the girls. "You ran out very fast," Potter said, coming up beside him.
"Your point?"
"I'm just curious, Malfoy,"
"And you have no right to be, Potter," he snapped; being questioned was starting to irritate him. And Draco really didn't want to admit that he'd been worried about the first years.
"I told you all I knew when Hermione was gone,"
"Which was next to nothing, Potter, so leave me the hell alone,"
"I just-"
"I absolutely hate it when people get into petty fights," Granger sighed, cutting Potter off as she walked over to stand next to Draco. He was surprised that she hadn't stood by Potter, as he was sure she liked him more than she liked Draco. "And honestly, why they felt the need to scream is beyond me; don't they realize how much that could worry everyone else? If they're hurt, I get it, but over a borrowed shirt? That's ridiculous," Draco stared at her and Potter had his eyebrows raised. Granger was speaking as comfortably as if they were all friends; perhaps she'd missed the tension in the air but Draco knew that she almost always picked up on things like that. "Why are you both looking at me like that? Stop it,"
"Granger you're-"
"Hermione it's really-"
"You two are capable of getting along, aren't you? It's really not that hard,"
"He's the one who was snapping at me," Potter said defensively.
"I snap at everyone, Potter,"
Granger grinned slightly and pulled on Potter's arm. "Come on, Harry," she said, seeming to be in a better mood than she'd been in a while. "We've got Transfiguration. Will I see you in Arithmancy, Draco?"
"I don't plan on skipping the class," he answered, rolling his eyes.
She nodded slightly before dragging Potter up the stairs and out of sight. Draco sighed heavily, glanced at the girls who were being yelled at, and made his way back to the Charms room. He liked Charms well enough, but the class was one of his least favorites because Flitwick so obviously hated him. After nearly an entire school year of that behavior, Draco was convinced that the class wouldn't be any different.
Which would be why he was so shocked when he was wrong. Draco had entered the class early, as per usual, though unlike any other day Flitwick was actually there. Usually the small professor would come in the moment class started, but he was sitting at his desk. Draco hadn't been paying too much attention when he'd walked in, so upon hearing Flitwick clear his throat he'd immediately turned back around to walk out of the classroom. He would much rather sit outside the door for the next fifteen minutes than sit under Flitwick's disapproving gaze. "Not so fast, Mr. Malfoy,"
Draco hesitated; he was only a few steps away from the door and if he acted like he hadn't heard him... But no; he couldn't run from anything. "Is there something you need?" he asked, a hard edge to his voice that he hoped would make Flitwick thing twice about what he said. "Professor," he added.
"There is, actually," Flitwick squeaked, offering Draco a grim smile. "You realize you're quite... talented with Charms, do you not?" Draco simply nodded, wondering if he would get snapped at if he spoke up. "I simply wanted to inform you that... I am rather proud of your progress, Mr. Malfoy. It seems I have not done well to keep any-"
"You're not the only one, Professor," he said quietly, glancing up to see a sad expression on the small man's face. "I... appreciate the words," he said awkwardly. "Though they aren't necessary,"
"I would have let any other student know a while ago. I apologize for not saying so sooner,"
Draco nodded and sat at his seat, pulling out his textbook. He felt a little bit better about staying in the room, though he didn't know why Flitwick had suddenly decided to stop hating him. For the first time that year, Draco actually enjoyed his Charms class; Flitwick didn't ignore him or glare at him which was an amazing improvement that seemed to have taken place over night.
He was in a considerably better mood for the rest of his day, which Granger noticed when they got to Arithmancy. The first year Slytherins noticed it as well when they joined him in the library that afternoon. It seemed as if nothing would ruin it either, because the rest of his day was spent in a good mood. He didn't even mind that he was thinking about Granger, because she'd smiled at him in Potions that morning and that had only added to his day.
By the time dinner rolled around that night, Draco was sure something was wrong. He hadn't felt like he was free of everything in a long time and he wasn't sure he was supposed to feel like that. The realization made him worry that something had happened to Granger, as that would be the perfect thing to make his day take a turn for the worse, but when he got down to the great hall he saw her sitting with her friends as she had been at breakfast and lunch. He shrugged it off, daring to actually believe that he'd actually had a good day and nothing had really gone wrong. He could get used to it if all his days were like this; he wanted nothing more than to have a bit of peace in his life.
Draco listened to the first years as they sat down around him and started talking about their day and how annoying they thought a few of the third year Slytherins were. There were plots to irritate them in return, and for first years they were surprisingly well thought out. Draco would go as far as to say that he was proud of the four students for being able to come up with something like that. The first years were surprised to find him acting even slightly happy, though it was Elizabeth who kept commenting on it. She was thinking that Granger had something to do with it. And she did, but most of it was the thought Flitwick had given him. Because what if he was going to be forgiven by the wizarding world? What if people started to not despise him? What if he could go on with life without his actions hanging over his head? He hadn't believed it possible, but... "Are you even going to acknowledge that owl?" Elizabeth asked, gesturing to the spot in front of Draco at the table.
He'd been too lost in thought to notice the bird sitting in front of him, and it had its head cocked to the side as it stared at him with wide eyes. Draco took the letter attached to its leg. He recognized the handwriting almost immediately and complete dread settled in his stomach.
His mother hadn't written him since before Christmas, and those letters had never been good. Draco began cursing himself in his head; something bad had to happen and he should have paid more attention to that rule. He should have known something would ruin a good day. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he answered gruffly, rising from the table and turning his back on the first years. He walked out as fast as he could, not bothering to look in Granger's direction because he was sure that would make him feel worse. Draco was sure that she wouldn't be paying much attention to him because her friends could be a handful, but that didn't bother him. Whatever it was his mother had to say, he wanted to read it in private and not have to listen to Granger's questions of what was going on.
He walked up the stairs, carefully opening the letter. He only caught a few words that were written on the page before his feet slipped out from under him. He let out a surprised noise, too caught up in the words trial and end of June to have heard the few whispered words that sent him tumbling down the stairs and trying to catch himself. He didn't manage to do that though, and ended up at the bottom of the stairs in a deserted corridor, groaning as he curled into a ball and held his stomach. He'd hit his head one too many times going down the stairs and he felt dizzy even though he wasn't moving. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and remained laying down, as he was sure that standing up would make him sick and he had no desire to get sick.