Blaise was sitting in the dark, by the low light of the fireplace in the Slytherin common room. He had a glass of Crabbe's muggle alcohol in hand. It was disgusting stuff but he needed to take the edge off the hellish day he'd had. It was past curfew and Draco still hadn't returned to the dungeons. Blaise had refused Theo's offer to wait up with him. He could tell that his friend was worried about how Draco would react to the news of him and Pansy. He was a little worried too but this was a confrontation he needed to have without Nott. He looked at the clock again, it was half an hour to midnight. He drained his third glass. Where the—?
It was then that he heard the stone wall shift.
Draco emerged through.
Blaise wanted to ask where he'd been but knew better than to question his friend these days. Gone was the boastful and arrogant wizard and in his place was this other Draco, a quiet shadow of the former. The blonde stopped short when he saw that not everyone had gone to sleep.
"Draco, I've been waiting."
"For what?" he asked as though he hadn't a clue.
"Pansy told me she spoke to you," he sighed.
"And?"
"We should talk, don't you think?
"Not necessary," he clipped trying to walk past him.
Blaise took hold of Draco's shoulder. "Look I know I should have told you, Draco… but sometimes — because of the way I am, because of the way you are — I forget we're actually friends — apologies —I think I'm a little inebriated, but, you understand, don't you? I had to chance it."
"Zabini, really—"
"You and Pans have always had this thing," he barrelled on in a rush to get everything off his chest. "So I buried it... but after a while, I just couldn't pretend it wasn't there anymore. There's only so much a person can fake." At that Draco's eyes snapped to his and he almost seemed a little fearful.
"Malfoy, you alright?"
"Yeah…" he murmured, though he sounded defeated.
Blaise's shoulders sagged in relief.
"So we're good?"
Malfoy gave him a curt nod and that was good enough for Blaise. He smiled drunkenly, patting his friend on the back. "Alright, well I'm off to bed."
He was walking, or perhaps he was swaying, toward the boy's dormitory when suddenly Draco called to him.
"When did you stop pretending?"
He turned around and shrugged.
"Suppose when it started to hurt." Then he bit out a sharp laugh. "I have a feeling I'll have a headache tomorrow…. Night." He saluted Draco, who for some reason looked to be a little on the glum side.
That, he thought to himself, as he crawled into bed, went swimmingly. Good bloke that Malfoy.
He fell into a deep sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Draco was in the library reading up on Vanishing Cabinets yet again. His desperation was beginning to mount. He was re-reading a passage from a certain book hoping he'd missed something when he caught a glimpse of Granger between the shelves. To anyone else, he looked to be browsing for a book but his feet were moving him, like a wizard possessed, toward her. Maybe he could just— the table she was seated at came into full view and he grimaced as he saw that Potter was sitting next to her whispering something into her ear. He bit the inside of his cheek wondering what sweet nothings he was cooing into her ear. You're the best in our year. Smartest witch of our age. Ugh. Revolting. He walked over quietly to a stack of shelves behind them and edged closer trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. He would wait till Saint Potter left and then—
"Well, just be careful what you drink, because Romilda Vane looked like she meant business," he heard Granger warn Potter. Draco frowned. Romilda Vane was after Potter with a love potion? Was there no female in Hogwarts that wasn't after him? There was the sound of a quill scratching against parchment. He bit his lip willing his feet to be quiet as he moved right behind them and continued to listen.
"Yeah, well, never mind that," Potter was saying. "The point is, Filch is being fooled, isn't he? These girls are getting stuff into the school disguised as something else! So why couldn't Malfoy have brought the necklace into the school—?"
"Oh, Harry… not that again…"
Draco clenched his jaw. Potter suspected him. Of course, Potter suspected him. He had opened his big fat stupid mouth on the train. Might as well have put it in the Daily Prophet — wait, what was Granger saying?
"…something's that's just been put in the wrong bottle wouldn't register. Anyway Love potions aren't dark or dangerous so it would be down to Filch to realize it wasn't a cough potion, and he's not a very good wizard, I doubt he can tell one potion from—"
Fuck!
Drawn to the conversation he had inadvertently stepped forward and made a noise. Draco backed away and quickly made his way out of the library because he had just been given a marvellous idea.
Poison! He could smuggle in poison.
Thank you, Hermione Granger.
Inviting Cormac McLaggen to Slughorn's Christmas party had been a terrible mistake. Hermione's thirst for vengeance had come at a dear price, or more specifically a snog. Kissing a dementor would've been more enjoyable. Thankfully she'd managed to escape and found Harry and Luna. Harry had been whizzed away by Slughorn and she was left sipping on her goblet, listening to Luna, who was telling her all about Rufus Scrimgeour being a vampire. Holding her tongue back she nodded along feigning interest.
She was at breaking point when she heard someone clear their voice from behind her.
"Hello Pansy," Luna grinned. "What a beautiful dress."
Parkinson's cool façade faltered for a moment.
"T-thank you," she stuttered.
Hermione gave her an uneasy smile, weary of the way the other girl was looking at her. "You both look…" she paused searching for a word. "Nice."
Looking up at the fairy lights, Luna remarked, "I saw you with Blaise Zabini."
"Yes," she blushed. "He invited me."
Hermione's brow furrowed. She had thought Pansy and Malfoy—
"He's a very handsome wizard isn't he?" Luna said dreamily. Hermione, who was still a little stunned to be within earshot of Pansy Parkinson without being insulted, could only nod in agreement. So this is what it felt like to remain civil.
"I think so," the Slytherin girl replied with smug pride as though she alone were responsible for Blaise's good looks.
Hermione took a large gulp of her mead, looking around the room hoping for something or someone to intervene.
"Granger, that's a lovely bracelet you're wearing."
She practically startled.
Luna grinned. "A token of affection from Victor Krum, I believe... although I do think—"
"Victor Krum?" Pansy clipped. "Really, it's funny because I don't recognize the coin charm, but the gold chain, well it looks identical to the love bracelet Narcissa Malfoy wears. It's crafted using the golden hairs from a unicorn foal."
Hermione stopped breathing. Her mouth had fallen open and she fought to compose herself.
"Cost a fortune, I imagine," continued Pansy.
"That's fascinating!" Luna mused, completely oblivious to the real conversation taking place between the two of them.
The dark-haired girl, looking pointedly at Hermione over the rim of her goblet, hummed. "Isn't it?"
"I wonder if you could do something similar using Thestral hairs," Luna said in wonderment. "Although you'd have to be able to see them first…"
Pansy frowned at the bizarre suggestion. "Well, I better get back to Blaise," she said with a tight smile, giving Hermione one last long look before disappearing into the throng of people.
Luna was still speaking but Hermione couldn't hear her. Her mind was racing. The air in the room was stifling.
It hadn't been a gift. It was just something he had sent her to be able to communicate with her without anyone else knowing. Probably so no one would find out he was getting help from a Mudblood. It was just to tell her he'd have to meet her on a different day to finish the Transfiguration essay. Then she'd kept it without giving it back. He'd even asked for it back and she'd refused. Although there was that moment in the dark stairway of the Astronomy Tower where he'd... No! No, no, no. Draco Malfoy wouldn't give her a love bracelet, he hated her and he'd demonstrated his hatred openly and consistently.
She excused herself and then went after Parkinson. She couldn't have her thinking what she was currently thinking.
"Wait," she said catching hold of the Slytherin girl near the drinks table. "I think there's been a real, big, mix- up."
"Oh?" she asked amusedly as Hermione sidled close to whisper.
"Yes, well you see," Hermione began rambling, "it's actually, well, what happened was, there was this owl and well he only wanted to let me know that— um — Malfoy doesn't love me." Pansy was wearing a blank expression on her face, the polite and calm demeanour she'd been exuding minutes before was gone. Hermione hadn't meant to blurt it out like that but she was in such a fluster. "Really, he—"
"It may not be love, but it's just as dangerous."
Hermione found she'd gone mute.
"You'll ruin him," muttered Pansy walking off. "You'll ruin him."