Chapter Summary: Something is brewing, and a certain Head Girl is determined to figure it out.

AN: Hello again! I bring to you another chapter, hope you enjoy!

After the Rain Falls
Chapter 5: Stop and Smell the Roses

It was mid-November when they finally had their first official testing session. After a proper stabilization period. Harry stared at the cage that sat atop the table in front of him warily. They had been granted a batch of mice with neurological disorders to test their potions on, and Harry eyed them as they stumbled and twitched at random inside their cage. He couldn't help but wonder if that's what he looked like in the midst of a seizure. Wretched like that, scrambling to find his bearings while entirely unable to do so. His gaze dropped to his lap, and he clasped his fingers together and tried to ignore the constant squealing and shaking of the cage.

Draco approached their table, placing both racks of testers down with care. He sighed as he sat down, and then leaned forwards to remove the seal on each vial one at a time. Two of them bubbled over immediately upon opening, and Harry cast a containment spell on them before disposing of them quickly. Another stank of something foul and had turned an unusual colour. They set it off to the side to examine later, but had no real intent to explore that particular concoction any further.

"Let's make sure the rest aren't toxic first," Draco spoke, and the two of them slowly took eyedroppers to each vial, before placing the bubbles of liquid on a poison parchment indicator. That ruled out a few more. After several more tests, they only had five potions left that were acceptable for trials. With any luck, one of them would prove beneficial. Not just to Harry, but to the mice as well.

They cleaned up their area, and then moved the cage closer. Both of them stared at it, unsure quite how to start. One of them would clearly have to hold the mice while the other administered the dosage. Harry didn't much like the idea of either job, but he certainly wasn't going to volunteer for the first. He side eyed Draco, noting the way he was scowling at the cage. It seemed like he wasn't particularly keen on the idea either.

"I'll do it," Draco said finally, and Harry practically collapsed in relief. He watched as Draco put on a pair of heavy gloves and reached into the cage for their first mouse. It twitched in his grip, and Draco struggled for a moment, but continued, and Harry hurriedly picked up an eyedropper and took a small dose of the first potion. He held it out with unsteady hands, but together they managed to administer it, and Draco returned the mouse to the cage while Harry wrote down its ID number next to the corresponding sample. They continued on like that with the rest, sitting back afterwards and staring into the cage attentively. Draco yanked his gloves off in a hurry, looking every bit as relieved to be done as Harry felt. Harry willed one of them to work, to at least ease the seizures the mice were afflicted with, but after twenty five minutes of studying them, there was no sign of anything at all.

As class neared its end, Harry sighed and slouched down in his seat. "Back to the drawing board I guess," he muttered. He couldn't help but feel a bit hopeless. Years. Draco had said it could take years. Harry was starting to realize he just may be right. He tried to ignore the burning behind his eyes, swallowed through a sniffle and then busied himself with writing down more observation notes. Next to him Draco crossed his arms and stared ahead sternly, gaze never straying from the mice. When the bell signalling the end of period rang, Draco frowned, and Harry returned their work to storage in silence. By the time he came back to gather up his books, Draco was already gone.

Despite their failings in potions class, Harry found time to enjoy other things. He participated in as many activities around the castle as he could. Tried not to think about the bad, and focused instead on the good. He wanted to enjoy his time back at Hogwarts while he could.

On one evening, he found himself in the second floor corridor with a whole gaggle of other seventh and eighth year students who had signed up for The Corridor Mural Project. They were given free reign, to paint the walls with whatever they wanted, so long as it wasn't inappropriate in subject matter. It was a way to leave their own personal stamp on Hogwarts, and it would be added to in future years. An ever evolving mural reflecting the heart of those who walked within the school's walls.

Harry sat atop a ladder, doing his very best to paint a variety of owls flying near the top of the stone wall. He wasn't the best artist, and when he pulled away to look at his work he grimaced slightly at the result. He glanced behind him, where Dean was busy painting a detailed rendition of the school itself across the way, and briefly wished that he'd chosen not to put his own work so close to something so drastically better.

After stretching out his arms, Harry decided to take a break and inspect what everyone else had decided to paint. He shifted atop the ladder, stumbling slightly as he missed the first step, and then his arm knocked into a can of paint when he clung tightly to the top. It toppled, falling on its side and dripping down onto the ground…or more accurately, onto Draco's head.

Harry gaped at him through the rungs, watched as his blond head of hair became tinted with blue. Draco slowly raised his head, steely gaze glaring up at him as paint dripped down his face and onto his pristine white school shirt. He was carrying several empty cans, and had clearly been in the midst of tidying up those at the base of the ladder.

"Potter…," Draco growled. He looked livid.

Harry swallowed nervously. "Oops," he muttered, fingers clinging desperately to the ladder as he started to sweat. But he couldn't help but think that Draco looked a bit like a Billywig, with that bright blue colour all over his face, and the image of his head floating on a Billywig's tiny little belly popped unwillingly into his mind. "Ppth!" Harry snorted, and he covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

Draco narrowed his eyes then, and he reached out, yanking on Harry's pants with a shout, "Get down here you little shit!"

"Ack! No! It was an accident!"

All of Harry's clinging was no use as he was tussled to the floor. Draco swiped a large glob of paint on Harry's face and rubbed it across Harry's cheek aggressively. But Harry wasn't about to go down without a fight. He used his wand to levitate the paint from a nearby can tossing it into Draco's side, and Harry dragged his fingers across his shirt, spreading the bold yellow over his chest. Both of them swept at each other's arms and torsos with the closest colour they could reach until Harry scampered to his feet, sneaking around the ladder to use it as a barrier. Draco stood up quickly, eyeing him like a leopard hunting his prey, and then he dove under the rungs of the ladder and caught him again within seconds.

"Paint fight!" someone shouted as Draco twisted his arms behinds his back, and suddenly paint was being thrown across the hall from all directions. A splat of bright pink hit Draco across the face and Harry burst into laughter, and then he was struggling again as Draco grabbed his hair and ruffled it, mixing a blend of different shades into the dark strands. He caught Draco's grin a moment before he was tackled to the ground.

The two of them wrestled atop the stone floor, until Draco finally managed to wrangle him into submission as he straddled him and held him in place. Harry squirmed as Draco rubbed pink and yellow across his face and neck, stuttering out weak protests as his fingers attempted to push him away. But it was difficult through his laughs, and he just ended up covered in a multitude of colours as he struggled to catch his breath between them.

"Boys!" Hermione shouted, standing in the middle of the hall, eyes wide in horror as she took in the chaos around her. It looked as if a large glob of paint had struck her in the side of her head, dripping bright orange all down her robes and throughout her frizzy locks of hair. The shouting in the corridor immediately died down. Draco froze atop him, completely coated in paint, and Harry stared at her from behind streaked glasses, hair standing on end and streaked with a variety of shades. Pansy walked up then, with Luna Lovegood in her stead, carrying a bunch of unopened cans. The two of them stared at Hermione's steaming form, and then at the mess around her, tilting their heads to the side curiously.

"Well that's an interesting way to paint a wall," Luna murmured, taking in the splotches of colour and hand prints across the stone. She stuck her hand in one of the paint cans and pressed it against the wall, satisfied at the print it left behind.

Hermione put her hands in her hair and pulled at it anxiously. "Professor McGonagall is going to kill us."

Professor McGonagall didn't kill them, but she certainly wasn't pleased. About forty students found themselves crammed into the West Study Hall since the Detention Hall simply wasn't big enough. They sat in silence as the clock moved agonizingly slowly. They hadn't been given a chance to change, and Harry's clothes clung to his body where the paint had started to dry and crack against his skin. He could feel Hermione seething a few seats away, likely miserable to find herself in detention for the very first time since first year.

Harry glanced around the rest of the room, eyeing the mass of students that were covered in paint, most of which sporting smiles and sharing knowing glances. It had been fun. Harry startled as something poked at his ankle, and he looked down hurriedly, frowning when he saw a piece of parchment dancing animatedly by his foot. He snuck a glance behind him, caught Draco's pointed stare, and then reached down to snatch it up. After a quick look towards the front of the room Harry opened the parchment in his lap, and he let out a snort which he immediately covered with a fake coughing fit.

Draco had drawn a stick figure re-enactment of their paint fight, right up to and including Professor McGonagall's arrival. It was impressively exaggerated, and Harry watched the scene and grinned widely as he and Draco dodged McGonagall's angry curses at the end. Ron leaned over and tried to hide a grin as well but then Hermione inched forward at her desk and positively glared at him. Ron coughed under his breath and sat up straight, while Harry glanced back at Draco and smiled.

Later, when he was showered and back in the dorm, Harry pulled the note from his book bag and stared at it again as he sat atop his bed. He took in Hermione's scandalized expression, the mass of random students running around and exploding into random colours of paint. And then there was their scuffle on the floor up until the moment they'd been caught. Draco even did an impeccable job at depicting Harry's abysmal attempt at drawing owls, making sure to feature them at the start. Harry folded the note back up carefully and tucked it away in his trunk, and when he fell backwards onto his bed he couldn't keep the grin off his face.

The last week of November came quickly, and with it the first snowfall. Just a light dusting of flakes that melted the moment they hit the ground. It was pretty, and Harry watched them cascade down into the West Wing Courtyard sombrely, as they revealed the newly installed memorial in honour of The Fallen Fifty.

It took on the shape of a Phoenix, large wings casting shade out to the sides, while the base was lined with plaques, upon which the names of those lost were engraved. All fifty of them. The fifty lives lost in the Battle of Hogwarts defending against Voldemort's attack. Many of whom Harry knew quite well, and just as many he'd never had the chance to meet. Once the crowd began to dwindle, Harry walked backwards along the length of the memorial, making sure to acknowledge every single name along the way.

He shivered as a gust of wind flew through the courtyard, blowing several snowflakes and leaves across his face before they settled again and floated down towards the ground. Ron was standing quietly in front of his brother's name, fingers touching it gently. Harry knew what he was thinking. That it felt wrong to see Fred's name by itself without George at its side. Even more wrong that it was listed on a memorial at all. He should have lived. It wasn't right. Harry wanted to say something to him, but Ginny was at his side, Hermione, the other, so for the moment, he was in good hands.

Harry walked on, making his way throughout the list of names, only coming to a stop when he saw Draco standing quietly ahead. Goyle and Pansy were at his side, heads down, and then Pansy grabbed Goyle by the elbow and began to lead him away. When Harry reached Draco's side, he glanced at the memorial, already knowing the name Draco stood there for. Vincent Crabbe.

Harry looked up at Draco, unsure what to say. Thankfully, he didn't have to think on it long.

"His name shouldn't be there," Draco admitted. "But, I'd be upset if it wasn't." Draco closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose before tucking his hands into his pockets and turning towards him. "You never said anything about him, to the press, or at the trials. Why?" Draco asked, and Harry fidgeted uncomfortably beneath his stare. It wasn't a question he ever expected to get asked.

"He already paid for his mistakes," Harry started. "I didn't feel the need to tarnish his memory. He wasn't given the chance to redeem himself, but I'm sure he would have, if he had been."

Draco tilted his head to the side, eyeing him for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm not so sure. Not everyone is good, not everyone can recognize right from wrong," he drawled. There was a grimace on his face, and he looked almost angry as he turned back towards the memorial. It was obvious that he was torn.

"It's still okay to feel conflicted about his loss. To remember and honour a different version of him. The one you befriended," Harry spoke quietly.

When Draco looked towards him, his eyes were a bit red and glassy, and Harry's widened slightly in surprise. Another gust of wind blew by, tousling Harry's hair, and he shivered and turned away as the last remaining leaves floated down from the trees around them. The wind settled, and Harry risked another look, startling when Draco reached out towards him. He plucked a single leaf out of Harry's dark strands, twisting it in his fingers between them, and Harry watched it twirl with a stuttering heart.

"Bloody Gryffindor," Draco whispered. Then he ducked his head, took a deep breath, and left with a nod. Harry felt his cheeks redden, and he fiddled with the front of his robes as his heart raced in his chest. What…was that?

"You and Malfoy are getting along quite well lately, aren't you?" Hermione asked from her place across from Harry in the common room.

Harry's quill halted mid-sentence, and he glanced at her before looking back down at the notes in his lap. There was a heavy tomb balanced over the armrest to his left, as he did his best to research for an upcoming Charms paper. "I…I guess. We're just working on our potions project. There's…a lot of research involved," he explained. He didn't think he stumbled over the words too badly, though he kept his face down, and his ears were burning and likely bright red. She turned a page, and Harry returned to his work, despite his racing thoughts.

"What is it you're trying to brew?" she asked curiously, and at that Harry paused and actually smiled. He'd been so busy with other things that he hadn't even mentioned the project to her or Ron.

He looked up at her then, dropping his quill for a moment in excitement. "A seizure inhibitor!"

Hermione perked up, and she folded her hands in her lap above her own notes. "That's…brilliant Harry, I hope it's successful. Was it your idea?"

"No, actually. Malfoy suggested it," Harry said with a shrug, and then he leaned back over his work, scribbling a few more notes on his parchment. He hummed idly, completely missing Hermione's astonished expression, and while he worked away, she sat back in her chair and considered him, fingers twirling the quill between her fingers. She had many questions, but she held her tongue, taking a moment to watch the way he worked away happily, while eyeing the rosy tint upon his skin.

It was curious. Very curious indeed.

On most days, Hermione wore her Head Girl pin with pride. It was a role she'd always dreamed of. One she wanted from the very first moment she set foot in Hogwarts all those years ago. But every so often there was a day, where she wished she could just take it off. Just for a minute or two. And pretend like she wasn't responsible for dealing with the ridiculous behaviour of actual children like some kind of unpaid babysitter.

She sighed in annoyance as two first year students grappled with each other in the middle of the hall. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor of course. Ever at each other's throats, even after the bloody war. She yanked on their robes and struggled to push them apart, narrowly avoiding getting sideswiped in the head.

"Stop it! Stop it now!" she hissed, to no avail. They were like little gremlins, scrapping with each other like a bunch of stray cats that had gone too long without food. One of them yanked on her hair and another her shirt, and she practically growled as her patience thinned. And then suddenly the two students floated up from the ground, clawing at the air instead of her and each other.

Draco stepped up beside her, muttered something under his breath, and the two students landed on opposite ends of the hall. He whisked their book bags towards them, both grunting as they caught them in their arms, and finally they huffed and went their separate ways.

Hermione straightened her robes and stood up straight, letting out a relieved sigh. "Thank you, Malfoy," she uttered, and he nodded at her and tucked away his wand. She felt a bit silly for not having used magic, but even after studying as a witch for so long her instincts were admittedly often very muggle. She needed to work on that.

They had Arithmancy together next, so she walked with Draco down the hallway, and it did not go unnoticed that he eased his stride slightly to accommodate her significantly smaller one. Hermione stared at him out of the corner of her eyes, unable to get a clear read. He'd certainly changed, perhaps more than any of them. There was no sign of the spoiled child that picked on them during first year. But he was still unreasonably confident, and had an air of authority about him that seemingly came naturally. He didn't use it the same way anymore, however. He didn't rub his wealth in or act like his bloodline made him better than those around him. He even made choices that left her questioning his motivations. Little acts of kindness. Like helping her deal with a group of rowdy first years, for example. Something she never would have expected from any Slytherin in previous years, let alone Draco Malfoy.

It was strange. Like he'd been wearing a mask all this time that had finally broken and chipped away. Except behind it…was yet another mask that needed chipping. None of it made sense to her. To put it plainly, Hermione simply didn't get him.

But she'd always liked a good puzzle.

She tucked her arms behind her, acting nonchalant as she spoke, "May I ask a question?"

"You already have."

He glanced at her with a smirk and she bristled slightly before continuing, "Why did you turn it down? The title of Head Boy," she asked, and his steps wavered slightly. "I know you were offered the position first."

He gaped at her for a moment, stunned, and then looked off to the side uneasily. "You know why," he muttered. "It wouldn't be right, for an ex Death Eater to have that privilege. I have no ambition of being a purveyor of justice. I don't have the right to make decisions based on right and wrong, when I have a history of making so many wrong choices myself."

Hermione was surprised by his answer. Not only by the honesty within it, but also at his willingness to share. She grinned and responded, "Oh, but, that's exactly why you'd make a good one. The best leaders are always those who don't seek power." Draco glanced back towards her, and then his pace quickened slightly and she had to skip ahead to catch up. "Regardless, thank you for your help. Even with this pin on my lapel there's only so much I can do to wrangle unruly first years," she mourned. "Like Cornish Pixies, honestly," she added as an afterthought.

They turned a corner, sidestepping to avoid an onslaught of students hurrying out of one of the classrooms. Once they reached the end of the corridor the two of them stopped, waiting for a staircase to return to its place. It gave her time to study his face and continue the conversation.

"Have you registered for the Magical Creature Fair?" Hermione asked, though she was fairly certain she already knew the answer. It was unlikely that Draco would want to help with an event run by Hagrid, especially considering he wasn't even registered in the Care of Magical Creatures class this year. What she hadn't been expecting was the way the question appeared to put him off balance. He shifted on his feet, and avoided her gaze.

"I…don't think I should," Draco muttered.

Hermione paused, thinking intently. Could it be that he actually wanted to, but was worried his presence was unwanted? At one time, that might have been correct. But…they had all moved beyond that now. Even Hagrid would have been glad to see him there, showing an interest in the animals he cared for so dearly. She wondered what might convince him so.

"Harry will be there," she mentioned casually. His head turned to look at her, quicker than normal, gaze narrowing in suspicion. She kept her tone even and added, "I'm sure he'd be glad to see you there too."

And that was all it took. Draco frowned a bit, looking at her quizzically, but there was a nervous flit in his eyes, a slight increase in his pulse, and a quick, barely discernable intake of breath.

Ah. Got him.

The staircase rumbled and moved into position and Hermione put a carefully crafted smile upon her face and walked backwards down the first step. "There's still time to sign up if you change your mind," she said pleasantly. "Well, I guess I'll see you in class, Malfoy." She skipped down the staircase then, leaving Draco stunned at the top. Once she reached the bottom she turned, more than a little amused by his bewildered expression, and added, "Oh, and, twenty points to Slytherin."

Hermione snickered at the way it made him squirm.

AN: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think :).