Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. The only exception is the briefly mentioned Lauren, who is a friend I made on fanfiction.net, Amo il ragazzo. Lauren, put up a new chapter soon, or I will introduce you to my very angry basilisk…
A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers for 576 reviews! KAOS, MoonDancerCat, dracoNmione (x2), CatalinaRose, sara, somebody, CrystallineLily, C, Queen Li, Incompetent Fool, DemonBlade, Weasley Pride, Aniron, Auraquilus, Rebecca, Katie Crickett, Sasha, foxyness39, The Dragon Guardian Of The Sea, CrazyCat, Paru-chan, Individual-9086 (x6) CousinYoghurt99, Anon, heavengurl899, Anon, nicole n, BlueStariNight88, Riverchic1998, Goddess-Isis-112, kalariah, smoo, hyper_shark, MiaMaria, Lorraine (x3), Italia12, aznlady (x2), hells, Butterfly, MysticalStormz, QiNg, JAMTillDawn, Elica Park, googoo4you, JoeBob1379, tears flow softly, StarJade, YA'KNOW, AideeEight, Silent Darkness, Raven Black, Katrina, Hp1fan, Xtreme Nuisance, mutsumi, cute089520, Anna*, Helena, animegirl-mika, bridges over De Dwarswetering, oceansun, mormonchick, Akuma Kanada no Tenchi, Amythest-Angel462!
A few people complained that the previous chapter was slightly unbelievable. I tried to make it as believable as possible, but I realise it may not have been. I added a bit to this chapter to try and reflect that. (And to MoonDancerCat who spotted a mistake in this chapter – it's been fixed. Thanks for pointing it out!)
I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!
~*~
If there was one thing the Gryffindors knew how to do well, it was throw a party.
All the tables that were normally dotted about the room were now pushed against one wall, laden with food requested from the kitchens. The house elves, remarkably, hadn't known of the battle raging above their heads. They had been quite distraught when Fred and George had told them, and had donated so much food to the Gryffindors that they had to use reduction charms to carry it all. The sofas and chairs had been pushed into one half of the room to create a dance floor across which enchanted music was playing, both muggle and wizarding. The fight seemed years away.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting on some of the sofas, eating such nutritious food as crisps, mini sausage rolls and those little sausages on cocktail sticks. They munched their food, swapping stories of the fight.
'I think we were really lucky to get away without anyone being killed.' Hermione said, dubiously nibbling a sandwich. 'I mean, Death Eaters against a bunch of kids!'
'Well there were a lot more of us than there were of them.' Harry pointed out. 'We outnumbered them about five to one after all. I don't think they expected to have to fight the pupils as well as the teachers.' He grinned with the satisfaction of winning the fight.
'And some people really ought to have gone to the hospital wing. I mean, Draco was really hurt.' Hermione added. 'He should definitely have gone.'
Draco was still a taboo subject with the boys. He might have changed, he might have stopped being so annoying, he might even love Hermione. But they still felt very dubious about trusting him.
'So Ron,' asked Harry, 'what happened with that Death Eater?'
Ron had previously been giving a thrilling account of his fight. 'Well I knocked him out with a Stupefy.' he continued, waving his wand through the air to demonstrate. Unfortunately his gesture was slightly too wild and sent a jet of light flying through the air, just missing Seamus.
'Sorry! Anyway, I turned my back for one moment to help Ginny out of a tight spot, and then there was this other one behind me! He nearly hit me with the Cruciatus. Would have done, too, if Ginny hadn't screamed and warned me. Anyway, we…'
He stopped short with a puzzled expression, turning his head to look round the room. A wave of whispers had grown up throughout the room, seeming to originate by the portrait hole.
'What's everyone whispering about?' he asked.
Hermione had heard that you could tell when certain people came near you, just by a feeling in the air or a twist in your stomach, but had never believed it. She didn't need a sixth sense, however, to be able to guess exactly who was causing all the commotion.
Draco pushed through the crowds with an arrogant air, and sat down on the sofa next to her. 'Nice common room, I think I forgot to mention it last time I was here. Could use a bit more green, and I wouldn't want to stay in it personally, but I'm sure you find it very nice.'
He seemed very unruffled, as if strolling into a common room full of people who hated not only his guts, but every single part of him as well, was something he did on a regular basis.
'What are you doing here?' asked Hermione wearily. Harry and Ron simply stared, trying to decide whether to be furious or not.
'Do you think the Slytherins can throw a half-decent party?' he asked with a raised eyebrow. 'Quarter of them are miserable the Death Eaters lost, half are just antisocial, and the rest are probably allergic to those sausages on sticks.' He stole one from Hermione's plate and ate it. He almost seemed to be enjoying himself.
'Draco, you shouldn't be here, it's against the rules…' Hermione began, already in full prefect-to-be mode. Draco cut in.
'I think the rules have pretty much disintegrated for tonight.'
Hermione shook her head. 'You're completely hopeless. Everyone's staring.'
'So?'
Something about Draco's don't-careish manner made the corner of her mouth twitch. He was still a Slytherin through and through. A normal person wouldn't walk into a room filled with their enemies to gatecrash a party. A normal person would have been too afraid of getting into trouble, for example being thrown out of the tower window. But Draco, egotistical, cunning, self-confident Draco – he could walk in like he owned the world.
Her eyes settled on Fred and George, standing by the food-laden table. A sudden idea sprang into her mind, causing her to smile mischievously. After all, cunning ideas were not limited to Slytherins alone…
'Of course.' She smiled warmly at Draco. 'Get comfortable, settle in – shall I get you some food?'
She hurried off to the table, vaguely aware of Draco saying something about cocktail sausages. Returning a few minutes later, she found the three boys holding a rather stilted conversation about – what else? – Quidditch.
Draco accepted the plate of food with a polite thanks. Sunken deeply into the comfortable seats, there was an out-of-place feel about him that a paper plate of junk food did nothing to aid.
He ate his food slowly and calmly. Hermione kept the conversation going, while surreptitiously watching him eat. Her eye fixed on an innocent-looking custard cream sitting on the edge of his plate.
Harry followed her gaze. A look of incredulous delight came upon his face, and he gave Hermione a questioning glance. She replied with an innocent expression, as if saying, 'Would I do such a thing?'
Two pairs of eyes watched the journey of the biscuit to Draco's mouth…
There was a sudden squawk, and in the place where the Slytherin had sat only moments ago there was now a large yellow canary.
The whole room burst into laughter. Questions were gasped out between bouts of hysterics – 'Who is it?' 'It's Draco Malfoy!' 'Malfoy? A canary?'
Draco-the-canary looked mortified, and fixed Hermione with the most murderous glare ever to be seen in the eye of a bird. Hermione, as well as Harry and Ron, were helpless with laughter.
'Sorry Draco…' she finally managed to gasp out. 'Couldn't… resist…' She took one glance at him and burst into a fresh fit of giggles.
The canary squawked angrily, and looked for an instant self-pitying.
A few minutes later it had turned into an angry-looking Draco, his eyes blazing with a cold fire. For a second, it could almost have been the old Draco back again. It was a sight that could quiet the loudest of laughters.
Hermione bit her lip, a guilty feeling stirring in her stomach. 'Sorry,' she said. 'I was just trying to have a joke…'
'You turned me into a canary.' Hermione glanced upwards, meeting his condemning eyes. She swallowed hard, and had to lower her gaze to the floor. She hadn't meant to annoy him so much… it was only meant to be a joke. She was painfully aware that the common room was silent around them. Could he forgive her? Please, please let him forgive. The thought of losing him as a friend was painful. Some part of her at the back of her mind cried out, a terrible fearful shout against the thought of losing him.
She glanced upwards, steeling herself for the worst. To her utter surprise, she saw that a corner of Draco's mouth was twitching. She stared in utmost astonishment, and the silence was broken by what was probably the first thing resembling a laugh she had ever heard from Draco. The whole common room started talking at once.
Hermione sighed an inward sigh of relief, reminding herself never to do such a thing again.
Draco stopped almost straight away - after all, Malfoys didn't laugh. But he had a mischievous glint in his eye, definitely heralding a cunning plan…
'Fine, I'll forgive you.' he said. 'But only because it was – and I'll admit it – a halfway decent plan. For a Gryffindor.'
She snorted in mock outrage. 'Why, thank you.'
'And,' he paused, 'You have to dance with me.'
Hermione looked at him as though he were mad. 'Oh no. No way. I do not dance.'
'You do now.' He stood and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet. As if on cue, a slow-sounding song began piping out over the dance floor. Ron made a move as though to stop them, but they were already dancing together, halfway across the room.
The song playing was a slow and sweet one that Draco had never heard before - probably a Muggle song. The world began to fade away irritatingly. It shouldn't. That sort of thing only happened to idiotic people in books. But somehow the rest of the world was a blur. He was aware only of where their hands touched, of her deep eyes. They weren't 'eyes that went on to infinity' or any such ridiculous nonsense. They had a definite end. But they were amazing in their own way – full of the spark of life that defined Hermione. The enthusiasm, the happiness, the laughter. She had fire in her eyes.
~*~
A pair of thoughtful green eyes watched them from the rear of the room. Harry was only paying half his attention to what Ron was saying, muttering nervously about how dangerous this was to their plan. What if he told her now?
A strange feeling of guilt welled up as he watched the two of them dance. They looked almost like something out of a story, one of the ones for children with happy ever after endings. Although he doubted that any of those dances ever took place in a school common room with popular music blaring through speakers, the same feel surrounded them.
Did it matter that Draco had once been an enemy? He had saved Hermione's life goodness knew how many times. He wouldn't hurt her. Some part of his mind nagged at him, shouting 'This is Draco Malfoy!' but somehow things had changed. Hermione ought to be able to make her own choices.
By the time the dance was over, he had made up his mind. He watched as Hermione left Draco, parting with an unheard remark and a laugh. A giggling girl in the year below, whose name Harry vaguely remembered as Lauren, asked Draco for a dance.
Hermione sank down next to Harry. He threw a furtive glance at Ron, who was still watching Draco suspiciously. He leaned towards Hermione, who had one narrowed eye on Draco as he and Lauren danced.
'Can I talk to you in private later?' he asked as loud as he dared.
~*~
The party went on for hours. Hermione and Draco danced a few times more, Ron turning angrier and more suspicious every time. When Draco wasn't dancing with Hermione, he seemed to find plenty of dance partners among the Gryffindor girls, Lauren included. Hermione would chat to Ron and Harry when she wasn't dancing, but every now and then she would forget herself and throw an irritated glance towards Draco and whoever his current partner was, until finally she walked over and had another dance.
But now the party was all but over, and Harry and Hermione sat on one of the beds in the fifth year girls' dormitory (the rest of the girls were helping with clean-up, and having a very giggly time of it by the sounds drifting up the staircase). The dormitory seemed strangely quiet in spite of its bright colours. After the adrenalin rush of the fight earlier, then the spontaneous party, it seemed rather quiet and forlorn.
Time seemed to have vanished for tonight. The only indicators that it was past midnight was the full moon shining through the window, and the muggle-style clock on Parvati's table, which was enchanted to give off a faint tick…tick…tick… even though it ran entirely on magic.
'So, what did you want to tell me?' asked Hermione. Harry glanced up, his emerald eyes a swirl of worry and concern and nerves.
'It's …something about Draco.' he said.
A strange worry gripped Hermione at the mention of his name. What was Harry going to tell her? 'What? Is he alright?' she asked without thinking. It was a natural reaction.
Stop being so silly, Hermione, Draco can take care of himself…
'Yes, yes, he's fine.' Harry assured her. 'It's…'
He looked up towards her, his face in conflict. Her friend's worry only scared Hermione more. What could be so bad to make Harry worry? Calm down, you don't know it's bad. She hung on his every word.
'It's… he loves you.' he finally said.
It wouldn't be true to say that she heard her heartbeat suddenly thud louder in her chest. Because, while it certainly did beat harder, she didn't hear it. She felt it, felt it pulse through her veins with the backbeat of life. Things seemed to be sharper and more faded at the same time, and conflicting thoughts turned her head into something resembling an impending apocalypse.
'What?'
'He loves you.' Harry wouldn't meet her eyes. He looked slightly embarrassed and extremely nervous, like a little boy in the head teacher's office to confess some wrongdoing.
'No. No. No. Draco Malfoy? Me? You must be… completely mad.' Hermione shook her head. 'He hated me…'
'And now he loves you.' Harry said gently. 'I know it's hard to believe…'
'But how do you know? He could be lying…'
Harry sounded strangely resigned. 'It was in that book. The cure for the Glacios curse – it's to touch the skin of someone you love.'
Hermione shook her head in confusion. How could this be? Draco had been her enemy for years. He had bullied her, insulted her. But… somehow those things belonged to a different Draco. Now he was just… Draco.
'What do you feel?' Harry asked, a note of curiosity and urgency mixed in his voice. 'Do you…love him?'
Did she? She tried to think, gathering her confused mind together. What was Draco like? He was… him. There was no way to describe Draco. He could be annoying but make you laugh at the same time, could be funny while being deadly serious. You never knew what he would do next – he was completely unpredictable. He had an air around him that simply stated, 'I am Draco Malfoy.' and left you to draw your own conclusions. Every day you found out something new, or saw some side of him you hadn't known before.
Did she love him? How do you define love? She closed her eyes, searching deeply through herself. Draco loves you, she thought, and the words made a feeling of warmth inside. It wasn't like the warmth of the sun, or the warmth of a friendship. It was an invincible warmth, one that could climb mountains as if they were nothing, one that could travel to the ends of the earth.
'Yes.' she said, opening her eyes. 'I do love him.'
~*~
A/N: Review! The next chapter is the last, so get ready for some romance! There might be a sequel, but I'd have to fit it in with schoolwork and other writing projects. The only reason I've been able to update this so frequently is that most of it was pre-written, and I don't know how long I'd take to update if it was a sequel. What do you think?