How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!

"Alice in Wonderland", Lewis Carroll

A/N: Remember: First part is present, second part is past.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JK Rowling. I write to learn. No money is being made.

Chapter 4 – Curiouser and Curiouser

Hermione went to the Burrow after parting ways with Andromeda at the outgoing Floo station in the Ministry. With just nine days before Malfoy's trial, she had yet to secure a prime witness for his defense: Harry.

She found him sitting outside in the garden with Ginny, talking closely, and she hated to interrupt.

"Hey, Harry, Ginny," she said, smiling at the pair.

Ginny waved. "Hi, Hermione."

Harry looked at her knowingly. "Hey."

"I was wondering if I could have a word with you, Harry," she said.

He sighed and withdrew his arm from around Ginny's shoulders. "Sure. I figured this was coming eventually."

Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek and left them alone.

Hermione took her spot on the bench, though not as close to Harry as Ginny had been. "You know what I'm going to ask?"

"Yeah. It just makes sense," he said.

"So? Will you do it? Will you testify for him?" Hermione asked, prepared to give the speech she had been rehearsing for several days.

Harry scratched his head and then ruffled his hair. "I … Are you sure about this, Hermione?"

"Of course I am," she said. "It's the right thing to do. He helped the Order and Snape, after everything else he'd done. The Ministry should be going after people who really deserve it. Malfoy is in the spotlight because of his father. Others have done far worse, but the attention isn't on them."

"It just seems … I dunno, maybe I've been listening to Ron too much."

Hermione bristled. "What do you mean?"

Harry shrugged. "He seems to think there's something else going on, that Malfoy is using you to get him out of prison."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's ridiculous," she huffed. "He hasn't said or done anything to that end, hasn't made me any promises for once he gets out. I went to him, all on my own. I'm sorry that Ron can't accept that."

"Yeah, that's another thing." Harry hesitated. "Why did you go to him?"

"We've been over this, Harry," Hermione said warningly. "I found evidence that showed a different side of the story. It was my duty to bring it to light."

Harry sighed. "I know, I know. Ron's just upset that you seem to have brushed him aside after … you know."

She did know, and she blushed at the reminder of the kiss. "I haven't, exactly," she said. "It's all very complicated."

"Well, I think you two need to talk. I will testify for Malfoy," Harry said, "but only if you talk to Ron. Today. He deserves to know what's going on."

Hermione nodded. "You're right. It needs to be done. Thank you, Harry."

"I'm not doing it for you," he said sternly. "I'm doing it because, as you said, it's the right thing to do."

"Still. Thank you." She smiled gratefully at him.

A shadow fell on them, and Hermione looked up to see Ron standing before them, his hands in his pockets and a nervous smile on his face.

Harry stood. "I'll see you around."

When he was gone, Ron took his seat but wouldn't look at Hermione. "What's going on?" he asked.

Hermione hated the way his voice was edged with pain and confusion. "Are you here to apologize for being a git earlier?"

His head whipped around to face her, and he was glaring. He looked as though a few things entered his head to say, and he dismissed each in turn. Finally, he ended on, "No. I mean, I wasn't a git earlier. I'm just looking out for you, Hermione. Malfoy is evil and always will be. I don't want you to be hurt further by him."

Hermione sighed. "I don't need you to look out for me, Ron. I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

"I know, I know! I wasn't saying otherwise. I just thought … after … you know, that I would be allowed to look after you. A little," he added hastily.

"Ron, can you even say out loud what happened between us?" she asked.

He turned a bright shade of red and turned his head forward. "We … or rather, you … eh, well …" He trailed off.

"I kissed you," Hermione stated frankly. "Honestly, Ron, what's the big deal?"

"It's a very big deal," he said defensively. "We'd never done that before, though I'd wanted to, I just never … did." He winced at his own words. "But I want to, Hermione. I want to again. I liked it. I … I like you."

Hermione had been waiting almost five years to hear those words spoken by him, and now that the time had come, she felt … disappointed, even though she had already concluded that she no longer felt strongly for Ron. His confession didn't send her heart pounding or her palms sweating, nor did she strongly desire a repeat of their kiss. This realization was hard to take, but it would be even harder to explain. She just hoped their friendship would withstand it.

"Oh, Ron," she said, biting her lip with a sympathetic frown. "I … I don't know what to say."

He looked at her questioningly. "I don't know what you mean. Wouldn't you say that you liked me too?"

Hermione couldn't look at him, so instead she stared at her hands. "I wish I could say that," she forced out. "I really do. You have no idea how much."

When he didn't say anything for a few moments, she turned to him. He was frowning deeply, staring at the ground, his arms resting on his knees and his red hair bright in the afternoon sun. "Ron?"

"So, you don't, then. Is that it?" His voice was full of anger. "You kissed me, you know."

"I know, and I'm so sorry!" she rushed. "I think it had to happen, though. We'd been through so much, we've both changed so much, and you left Harry and me alone when things got too difficult! I did like you once, very much, but that started to fade. I don't know when, but after you left, that's when I knew it could never work between us. The kiss … was the heat of the moment, it was you finally getting something I had been trying for years to get you to understand, and I just … reacted. I'm sorry, Ron."

He hadn't taken his gaze from the grass at his feet through her entire speech. After another few moments of silence, he looked up, toward the woods beyond the Weasley property. When he spoke, his words broke. "So that's it, then?"

"Ron—"

"No, Hermione. You've said enough. I get it." With that, he walked away, leaving her alone on the bench.

After his last class of the week, Draco rushed to his private room, shutting the portrait behind him with a relieved sigh. He had made it through another week without drawing any suspicion, by carrying on as Snape had instructed. He paled whenever he was asked to perform an Unforgivable, his hands shook, and most of the time he couldn't even get the words out before the class laughed and someone shoved him out of the way, eager to show the teacher his or her prowess.

They had moved past the Cruciatus and on to the Imperius. Amycus seemed to take great pleasure in watching his students force each other to do things they would never do otherwise. It was disgusting, and in those instances, Draco didn't have to pretend to be too sick to participate.

He had lost the respect of his friends, but he didn't really care. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to relish the Unforgivables, the Cruciatus especially. They readily volunteered to mete out punishment and did so with unchecked bloodlust in their eyes. It frightened Draco to see them enjoy the pain they caused.

Pansy still clung to him, months into the year, but even she was having a hard time acting interested in him. Draco suspected she was only doing it because she hoped to marry him and gain access to his inheritance. It certainly wasn't that she cared about him. He knew she was spending copious amounts of her free time with Zabini and Nott, and they weren't engaging in academic pursuits. She made a show of trying to conceal the evidence of her extracurricular activity, but the attention she garnered from other blokes and the jealousy from her schoolmates ensured she did a poor job of it.

The only person Draco felt like he could talk to was Daphne. She was one of the few Slytherins … two, actually … who didn't jump at the chance to punish her fellow schoolmates. When he had questioned her about it, she had shrugged and said that as Head Girl, she should be approachable. Students shouldn't have to worry about facing the end of her wand if they said something she didn't like.

He agreed and added that to his set of reasons for not using the Unforgivables. Daphne, alone, didn't seem to define his reticence as cowardice. They started eating and studying together, working hard to fulfill their duties as Head students.

One evening, while meeting with Snape, Draco mentioned her.

Snape smirked. "What do you think of my choice for Head Girl?"

Draco nodded in approval. "Daphne is great. She takes her position seriously and works hard. I admit, I was surprised when I learned it was her. Though, without Granger around, she makes good sense."

Snape threw a scrutinizing look his way. "Granger? That reminds me. You haven't told me what happened with her. I still want to know."

"I won't tell you," Draco said firmly. "Why did you pick Daphne?"

Snape didn't answer right away, just continued watching Draco as though he was a very interesting code he was trying to decipher. "I knew she wasn't like the others in your year. You and she are very like-minded. I had hoped that you would find … comfort … in each other." Snape trailed off, allowing his last thought to linger in the air.

It took a moment, but then Draco understood. "C-comfort, Sir? You were setting us up?"

Snape shrugged uninterestedly and tended to a cauldron that he had simmering in one corner of the room. "If the situation presented, I had hoped you would take advantage."

Draco gaped at the Headmaster. Sure, he had enjoyed getting to know Daphne better. He felt he could be more himself around her, that he didn't have to pretend. It was a nice feeling, but he had never looked at her as anything more than a friend. At least, not seriously. He was constantly on edge, always looking over his shoulder. He couldn't relax enough to consider a relationship, even a casual one. Stress had a way of dampening his drive. And the few times he had thought of Daphne that way, Granger popped into his head and that had completely turned him off.

"That is my business, not yours," Draco snapped.

"I merely put the two of you in favorable conditions. What you do with them is, as you said, none of my business," said Snape smoothly.

Over the next few weeks, Draco started seeing Daphne differently, and he cursed Snape. He didn't need to be thinking about another girl. His thoughts already drifted to Granger more often than he liked.

Then, one night, they were studying together for an Arithmancy exam, and she kissed him unexpectedly. He hesitated, his thoughts whirring with indecision, and she pulled away.

"I-I'm sorry," she muttered, and she began gathering her things.

"No, don't apologize," he said, taking her arm and stopping her movements.

She gave him a defeated smile. "I thought … that you were interested."

Draco blew air through his lips and shook his head. He wasn't sure what he wanted or why he hadn't kissed Daphne back. She was a beautiful girl, kind and charming, and Snape had been right; they did have similar interests. But … Merlin help him, Granger had been imprinted on his brain. Ever since the night he had saved her life, he couldn't stop thinking about her, wondering where she was, if she was safe … if she was with Weasley.

"I … don't know what's going on with me," he said honestly. "Sometimes, I am, but then other times …"

"Is there someone else? Is it Pansy?" Daphne asked.

His eyes widened. "Pansy? Merlin, no! Not a chance." He shuddered at the thought.

Daphne laughed. "I'm glad to hear that. She's really getting on my nerves this year, bragging about her conquests, as though Theo or Blaise are anything to brag about."

Draco chuckled, then he scowled at the thought of Blaise. Every time he saw the other Slytherin, Draco had to resist the urge to strangle him. Not only had he nearly killed Granger the year before, but Blaise was one of the students who jumped at the chance to enact punishment. He had never been satisfactorily punished for almost killing Granger; in fact, he didn't even remember the incident, thanks to a well-placed Memory Charm.

But Draco couldn't forget. He had a lot of nightmares, and reliving the night Granger almost died was a frequent one. Only, instead of saving her, something always went wrong. Blaise read his thoughts and stopped him, or Greg was quicker than Draco had anticipated. In every scenario, Draco was forced to watch as his three former friends inflicted the worst kind of pain on the girl he had once wanted to hate with all of his might.

"Are you okay?" Daphne asked.

Draco realized he had let his thoughts surface in his expression. His jaw and fists were clenched, and his eyes narrowed. He forced himself to relax. "Yeah. Fine."

"Is it me?" Daphne asked quietly.

"No," he said quickly. "I swear. You … you're amazing, and I wish I could relax and just … be with you. But I can't, not right now. Maybe after …" He trailed off, imagining what life would be like after the war. With Snape's help, he had a chance at something normal.

She smiled. "After sounds all right."

I hope we both get to see the other side of this.

Draco closed his eyes and groaned again. Granger couldn't do this, she couldn't control him. Especially when she didn't even know the power she wielded. He looked at Daphne and made a decision.

In an instant, he had closed the distance between them and was kissing her fiercely. She responded in kind, and soon he was breathing heavy and cursing the layers of fabric that stood between them. As he slowly unbuttoned her shirt while kissing down her neck, he thought again of Granger. Instead of turning him off, as usual, the image of her dark brown eyes clouded with desire for him only fueled the fire. He groaned and leaned in to kiss Daphne again, imagining for a moment that she was someone else.

Almost immediately, Daphne stiffened and pulled away, turning her head away from him.

He took a few moments to reorient himself with where he was. "What?" he breathed.

Daphne bit her lip. "You … n-nothing." She reached for his neck and tried to kiss him.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "What did I do?"

"You … promise you won't get angry at me?" she asked timidly.

He huffed impatiently. "Yes, fine. I promise."

Daphne's words were barely a whisper. "You said someone's name. Not mine."

Draco's blood froze. He'd been thinking about Granger … Merlin, had he said her name? He couldn't conceive of anything worse happening. "Who?" he asked nervously, only partially wanting the answer.

"Well …" she began. "It was … the girl who would be here if she was here."

Draco blinked. "What? That doesn't make sense."

"Head Girl," Daphne said, exasperated. "She'd be Head Girl, if things were … normal."

Draco shut his eyes and then lay on his back. He wished the room would open up and swallow him whole, burying him and his humiliation. Of all people! Granger? Where had that come from? If anyone found out, he would be skinned alive and then tortured to within an inch of his life. He groaned, feeling a phantom shoot of pain from his last bout under the Cruciatus.

Daphne scooted over to him after putting her shirt back on. "Don't worry, Draco. I won't tell anyone, I swear."

"Are you serious?" he said, incredulous. "Why wouldn't you?"

"I have no desire to see you tortured," she said.

"Daphne, I'm awfully sorry about this. I didn't mean to. I can't even believe I did." He searched his brain for some clue about how this could have happened, and all he could come up with was that ever since he had saved her life, he had reserved a special place for her in his mind and obviously, his heart. It didn't make sense, but there it was.

"It's okay," she said quietly, avoiding his eyes. "It makes sense there's someone else."

Draco wanted to beat his head against the wall until the pounding went away.

"How … How is it her, though?" Daphne asked.

The urge to roll his eyes was nearly too great to overcome. Daphne wouldn't understand that he was rolling his eyes in frustration with himself and not at her question. It wasn't that Granger was 'someone else,' but she was, too. She was almost constantly on his mind, and he didn't know what to do about it.

Now, he only hoped he wouldn't have to deal with an entirely new facet of his … what? Fascination? Interest? Obsession? … with Granger. He had officially fantasized about snogging her, and he feared he could never go back.

Draco could only shake his head. "I … truthfully don't have an answer to your question."

"I'm not asking how you could be attracted to her," Daphne said. "She's pretty and smart, and I think a lot of blokes were stupid not to take notice."

Draco gaped at her. "Seriously?"

"Absolutely," she affirmed. "But with you … I'll be honest; I thought her blood status would be an issue."

Slowly, he shook his head, shutting his eyes once more. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation."

"So you don't care, then?" she asked.

"I … it doesn't even matter," he said. "She is … that's never going to be a remote possibility. I reckon I don't care about her blood status." Not since he had her blood all over his hands and clothes, and not since the moment he realized she was just a girl. It would seem, however, that he had just taken note of the fact that she was more than 'just a girl.'

Daphne smiled. "I'm glad to hear that, Draco. I really am. I swear, no one will hear this from me. To show you I mean it, I'll confess something to you."

"Okay," Draco said.

"I had a small thing for Potter. At the end of last year. It just hit me one day, during a Quidditch match. Gryffindor wasn't even playing, but I glanced to their section and saw him. I can't explain it." She gave him a pointed look. "I would imagine you feel the same way."

"That's for sure," he said. "Except, it's not so much that I fancy her as it is blatant confusion."

Daphne nodded. "That makes sense. You'd be more resistant to the idea than I would, considering your background."

Draco scowled. "You were attracted to Potter. That's far worse, in my opinion."

She laughed. "Than a Muggle-born witch? I think they're pretty even."

"You might be right," he said with a sigh. "You don't … still fancy him, do you?"

Daphne just shrugged, her eyes shining.

Draco wished that he could force himself to like Daphne, even if just for that night. It would probably help take some of the edge off, but it was too late. The mood had been ruined, and he really didn't think he could kiss her while wondering if she was imagining that he was Potter.

ooo

End Notes: Thanks for reading! Happy Friday! :) Many thanks to my wonderful betas: Shug and pokeystar! Written in response to a challenge issued by drcjsnider.