Draco
"But I don't want to." The boy folded his arms stubbornly, his eyes narrowed and fixed on his father.
"I know you don't want to, Draco," said the boy's father, "but if you want to earn an important seat in the Ministry of Magic, and get ahead of that filthy Mudblood - Granger, was it? - you will need to attend this program. It will teach self-discipline and how to defend yourself in the wilderness."
"Oh, fine!" Draco muttered, dropping his hands. He ran a hand through his fair hair. "But I don't see the point." Draco's father, Lucius, stroked his chin pensively.
"I am glad you've given in," Lucius said, "for your bags have been packed and sent up to Hogwarts already. You will leave tomorrow evening." Draco felt his father's icy glare on his back as he left the study. He bit his lip. There was no chance anyone from Slytherin would be at this workshop - it was for people like Hermione Granger. Oh no, Draco thought, I hope she isn't there. What if she was? He would be ruined if somebody found out.
Oh, well, Draco sighed, it's only a few weeks. And at least I won't be forced to stay here. Better anywhere than here.
"Goodbye Draco," Mr. Malfoy said. "I will see you next year." His father held out a hand. Draco shook it and watched as his father disappeared beyond the barrier of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. He sighed as he turned about, glad that he was finally free for another year at school. He glanced around to see anyone he recognized. He saw, as he had predicted, no Slytherins at all. There were mainly Ravenclaws around, almost none in his year. One figure, standing in the doorway, looked strangely familiar. She was lean, with a thin, tan face and her long brown hair tied back in a complicated network of braids. Draco hadn't the scarcest idea of who she was until she spoke:
"Why are you here?" It was Hermione. Draco's jaw dropped. Realising this, he shut it quickly and narrowed his eyes. Hermione was no longer her normal, bushy-haired self, but had the body of a slender and fit athlete.
"I should be asking you this," he said coolly in reply. "This program is for witches and wizards, not Muggles." Hermione brandished her wand, and he smirked.
"You're asking for it, Malfoy."
"Go ahead, Mudblood. I bet my broomstick you wouldn't do anything." Hermione withdrew her wand and put it into a pocket in her robes. What happened next, Draco was not ready for.
In one swift movement, one fast punch in the nose, Draco was down, and the whole world ebbed into blackness.
"Who would have known? Miss Granger? Of all people."
"She gave him a sound beating, she did." Draco opened his eyes. Blurry shapes came into focus, and he shifted with a groan.
"He's awake," a voice said delicately. Draco turned his head and had to squint to focus clearly. His eyes burned from the brightness of the sunlight coming in through a window. Three people were standing around him: Madam Pomfrey, Professor Dumbledore, and Hermione Granger. Draco tried to sit up, and managed to, though his head felt as if it was filled with lead. He propped his heavy head up on his hands and stared drowsily into the face of Hermione Granger.
"With a sip of this, he should be fine," Madam Pomfrey said, holding a vial up to Draco's lips. He drank it, gagged, as it tasted strangely of lemons and coconut, and waited for the result. He did, in fact, feel rejuvenated, and soon enough the weight seemed to have been lifted from his head. He turned to Dumbledore.
"Professor, what - ?"
"Miss Granger knocked you out. It seems that she has been taking self- defense. Yes?" Hermione nodded, red patches burning on her cheeks. "She has something to say to you, Mr. Malfoy." He turned to Hermione.
"I'm sorry, Malfoy," she muttered, looking Draco straight in the eye. She turned even redder. Professor Dumbledore nodded.
"You may leave the infirmary, now, Mr. Malfoy, if you like, or would you prefer to stay here?" Professor Dumbledore said, his blue eyes sparkling. Draco scowled.
"I will leave, thank you," he said sardonically. Realising that he was in his own robes, he rose from his bunk. Professor Dumbledore held the door open as Hermione and Draco walked out of the Hospital Wing.
"Draco, your luggage is in your dormitory. Miss Granger, you wouldn't mind showing Draco what to do, as he missed the opening lectures?" Hermione nodded. "This is your first assignment as a Prefect." Professor Dumbledore walked down the hallway, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
"How nice, I'm stuck with you," Draco said bitterly. "The Mudblood Granger - right now, red as Weasley's hair with a sunburn." Hermione didn't frown, nor did she even look at him. She thoughtfully twirled a strand of hair around her finger. Her expression changed quickly - from pensive to annoyed - and she stopped and narrowed her eyes at him. Draco stood still, watching Hermione cross her arms over her chest.
"Do you think I feel any better?"
"Well why wouldn't you like the privilege to accompany me?" Draco asked smugly. "I am the most charming wizard in this school, and - "
"Do not even start with me," she whispered, her face inches away from Draco's. He resisted the urge to cower under her fierce gaze. "It is because of you that I have a week of detentions - and school hasn't even started yet! And guess how I get to serve my detentions!" Draco sighed and shrugged carelessly. "With you!"
"What - "
"You have detention, too."
"For what?"
"Taunting me." She breathed deeply and walked briskly down the corridor. Draco jogged to keep up with her. He saw her raise her eyebrows as she noticed he was following.
"Oh, yes," she said quietly, "and I believe you owe me a broomstick."
"What?"
"You said you bet your broomstick that I wouldn't do anything," Hermione recalled with a smug grin. "And I did." Draco glared at her, but she took no notice.
Hermione started walking faster, Draco running along behind her.
"So what do I do first?" Draco said between pants. Hermione shoved a piece of parchment into his hand. It was a schedule of all fifth year classes.
"Workshops officially start tomorrow," Hermione said shortly, without even a glance at Draco. "We have the same classes, since we are in the same year. Fifth and sixth year classes are combined."
"But tomorrow is a Sunday," Draco moaned. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Yes, and congratulations on that great speculation. Here is our first class. The professor that teaches it hasn't arrived, yet, and I don't know who it is." She stopped in front of the Transfiguration classroom, which had a sign posted on the door: Magical Self-Defense.
"What is the password to my dormitory? I am the only Slytherin here, so - "
"Your password is Conanbeck." Draco began to push on the door, but Hermione started to walk away.
"Where are you going?" Draco called. Hermione stopped and turned back.
"It is lunch time, and I'm hungry." She spun around and hurried back down the hall. Draco ran after her. By the time he caught up with her, they were already in the Great Hall. The House tables were there, and Hermione sat down next to an older Prefect at her table and struck up a conversation.
Draco dropped himself into the chair at the head of the Slytherin table. He looked around and realised that the Ravenclaw table was practically full. There were only about eight Gryffindors, and about only six Hufflepuffs. He sighed as he looked down at all the empty chairs of his table. Not even the large meal in front of him looked inviting. He would be alone in his dormitory, too. At least I'm not at home, he reminded himself.
He finished his lunch in silence and looked around for Hermione.
"Looking for something?" a voice said from behind him. Draco spun around and saw Hermione standing there, her book bag slung over one shoulder. "Did you hear the announcement just now? Professor Dumbledore said that we should return to our dormitories. He said there will be a surprise later tonight." Draco shrugged and stalked away gloomily. He opened the door leading to the Entrance Hall and heard it close behind him with a thud. After a moment, Hermione strode after him.
"Wait!" she called. Draco stopped so that she could catch up.
"Yes?" Draco said, staring coldly at her. Hermione twirled her hair around her finger again.
"I couldn't help noticing that you are the only Slytherin here," she said mildly. "I thought you might like some company. Nobody would miss me in my common room. The only person who might notice I am gone is that Prefect, Nadine. She'll be glad I'm gone." Hermione smiled gently. "But only if you want me to." Draco shrugged.
"No, Mudblood," Draco muttered. "Go to your own common room." Hermione raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
"You're going to have to find another nickname for me, Malfoy," Hermione replied. She walked away quickly, as she had before.
Draco trudged up to his dormitory, muttered the password, and looked around. Home sweet home, he thought as he looked around the stone walls at the familiar tapestries and the old high backed chairs. He walked up a great stone staircase to his room and sprawled out onto his bed. He pounded the old pillow with his fist and set his head down on it.
As he was in the middle of feeling sorry for himself, he heard a small sound from the foot of his bed. He looked around and saw a small house elf in a white toga-like garment sweeping out dust from under his bed. The elf saw that he had been noticed, and quickly bowed so low that his long, pointed nose nearly touched the ground.
"I is sorry, sir," the elf said squeakily. "I is just sweeping, see. Dobby didn't mean to bother sir." Draco suddenly sat bolt upright, causing the poor elf to jump in surprise.
"You," he gasped. "Our old house elf. What are you doing here?" Dobby's tennis ball-sized green eyes became very wide.
"Little Master?" he stuttered. He nearly fell backward as he tried to straighten up. "What is Little Master doing here before term starts?"
"Summer program," Draco sighed. "What are you doing here? You work here now?" Dobby nodded vigorously.
"Sir, yes," he said. "Dobby gets paid now. Winky works here, too, sir."
"Crouch's elf?" Draco asked, and Dobby nodded again.
"Sorry, sir, but Dobby must finish cleaning. We is having a lot of work tonight." The elf disappeared with a small popping noise. Draco rose from his bed and walked down into his common room.
He sat down in one of the high-backed, black chairs and stared into the crackling fire in the fireplace.
"I can see you're having loads of fun by yourself." Draco jumped and looked at the chair beside him. Sitting next to him was Hermione.
"Heck, Granger, don't ever do that again," Draco said. "And how did you find this common room, Mudblood?" Hermione smirked.
"I've known where your common room is since my second year. I came to keep you company." Draco stared at her, bewildered inside, but not about to show it. His face was as cool and sarcastic as always. "And I told you earlier: you're going to need to find another nickname for me."
"Why? The name Mudblood suits you."
"I found out that I was adopted," Hermione said, smiling. "Mum and Dad told me before I left. I asked them who my parents were, but they said that they only knew my mother's name: Noella Connor. She is a witch - I looked it up. Mum and Dad didn't know who my father was, so I don't know much about him - I don't even know his name. I'm going to send a letter to Noella Connor, though, and ask her who my father is." Hermione smiled.
"You seem so cheerful," Draco drawled. "I'd think you'd be angry to find your parents disposed of you to some Muggle family." Hermione smirked.
"But now you can't call me Mudblood." She smiled again and then shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "You know, these chairs aren't nearly as soft as the ones in our common room. And how do you stand it in here? It's like a dungeon." Draco shrugged.
"You get used to it."
"I'd expect you to live in a place like this, Malfoy." There was an awkward pause between them.
"Granger," Draco blurted, shattering the silence. Hermione looked at him. "So why'd you come to keep me company? Was it the old Malfoy charm?"
"No," she said firmly. "I just felt sorry for you, being here all alone, and all. Want to play a game of wizard's chess?" Hermione pointed to an old, dusty chess board on a study table. "I'm really bad at it, but it's still fun." The two rose from their seats and walked to the table.
Three games later, Hermione winning only one, Draco convinced Hermione to retire from the game.
"But I need to win at least one more time!" she whined.
"My mother taught me," Draco said conceitedly. "There is no way you could defeat me at chess. My mother was the undefeated Wizard Chess Champion when she was at Hogwarts. She still holds the title."
"Maybe she should play against Ron," Hermione suggested. Draco shrugged.
"What are your parents like?"
"My adoptive parents are dentists," Hermione said as they sat down on the floor near the hearth. Draco realised how warm the dark green carpet was under him. Hermione sat with her arms around her legs and her head resting on her knees. Draco sat with his legs crossed and his back straight. "And they're very nice."
"What's a dentist?"
"A Muggle tooth doctor," she said. "As you know, they are both Muggles. My mum and dad look a bit like me, so I would never have expected to be adopted.. My father likes golf, swimming, and books, and my mum likes every sport but golf - she's very athletic. The first thing she wanted me to do was read about magical sports and magical medicine. They never expected to have magic in the family. The day I got my letter, I was so happy I could have cried. You wouldn't understand, though, as you knew your entire life that you would get into Hogwarts."
"No, not really," Draco said, stroking his chin. "My father does not have good history with Dumbledore. I was going to go to Durmstrang, where they only accept purebloods. That reminds me, what ever happened to you and Viktor Krum?" Hermione blushed scarlet.
"He is going away to some magical university, and I am three years younger than him, so it didn't work. I never really liked him that way, anyway. Shame; he was brilliant and kind. It is rare to find those two qualities in the one person." Draco stared at Hermione, and didn't see that she went even deeper scarlet.
"Isn't it strange that we are sitting and talking to each other?" Draco said softly. Hermione nodded.
"Yes, it is," she replied. "You've always called me a Mudblood, and Harry, Ron, and I always called you everything else." Hermione smiled. "And now it is strange to learn that you aren't such a bad person after all." Draco gave her a kittenish smile.
"Bad?" he said.
"Yes," Hermione answered. "You always acted so prejudice and harsh, but now I see that it was just a cover."
"I've never thought of myself as prejudiced or harsh," Draco said smartly. "Maybe handsome or devilishly charming, but never bad." Hermione smiled. Draco never remembered being smiled at like that. It made him feel as if she could look straight through him.
"Ooh!" Hermione yelped, looking at her wristwatch. "We need to get to the surprise."
She led him out of the dingy common room and to the Great Hall. There were three rows of chairs in a semicircle around a large platform that was raised before the staff table. Draco looked up and saw a clear, starry night sky above them. He hadn't realised how much time had gone by.
Professor Dumbledore waited until everyone was seated before he spoke.
"But I don't want to." The boy folded his arms stubbornly, his eyes narrowed and fixed on his father.
"I know you don't want to, Draco," said the boy's father, "but if you want to earn an important seat in the Ministry of Magic, and get ahead of that filthy Mudblood - Granger, was it? - you will need to attend this program. It will teach self-discipline and how to defend yourself in the wilderness."
"Oh, fine!" Draco muttered, dropping his hands. He ran a hand through his fair hair. "But I don't see the point." Draco's father, Lucius, stroked his chin pensively.
"I am glad you've given in," Lucius said, "for your bags have been packed and sent up to Hogwarts already. You will leave tomorrow evening." Draco felt his father's icy glare on his back as he left the study. He bit his lip. There was no chance anyone from Slytherin would be at this workshop - it was for people like Hermione Granger. Oh no, Draco thought, I hope she isn't there. What if she was? He would be ruined if somebody found out.
Oh, well, Draco sighed, it's only a few weeks. And at least I won't be forced to stay here. Better anywhere than here.
"Goodbye Draco," Mr. Malfoy said. "I will see you next year." His father held out a hand. Draco shook it and watched as his father disappeared beyond the barrier of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. He sighed as he turned about, glad that he was finally free for another year at school. He glanced around to see anyone he recognized. He saw, as he had predicted, no Slytherins at all. There were mainly Ravenclaws around, almost none in his year. One figure, standing in the doorway, looked strangely familiar. She was lean, with a thin, tan face and her long brown hair tied back in a complicated network of braids. Draco hadn't the scarcest idea of who she was until she spoke:
"Why are you here?" It was Hermione. Draco's jaw dropped. Realising this, he shut it quickly and narrowed his eyes. Hermione was no longer her normal, bushy-haired self, but had the body of a slender and fit athlete.
"I should be asking you this," he said coolly in reply. "This program is for witches and wizards, not Muggles." Hermione brandished her wand, and he smirked.
"You're asking for it, Malfoy."
"Go ahead, Mudblood. I bet my broomstick you wouldn't do anything." Hermione withdrew her wand and put it into a pocket in her robes. What happened next, Draco was not ready for.
In one swift movement, one fast punch in the nose, Draco was down, and the whole world ebbed into blackness.
"Who would have known? Miss Granger? Of all people."
"She gave him a sound beating, she did." Draco opened his eyes. Blurry shapes came into focus, and he shifted with a groan.
"He's awake," a voice said delicately. Draco turned his head and had to squint to focus clearly. His eyes burned from the brightness of the sunlight coming in through a window. Three people were standing around him: Madam Pomfrey, Professor Dumbledore, and Hermione Granger. Draco tried to sit up, and managed to, though his head felt as if it was filled with lead. He propped his heavy head up on his hands and stared drowsily into the face of Hermione Granger.
"With a sip of this, he should be fine," Madam Pomfrey said, holding a vial up to Draco's lips. He drank it, gagged, as it tasted strangely of lemons and coconut, and waited for the result. He did, in fact, feel rejuvenated, and soon enough the weight seemed to have been lifted from his head. He turned to Dumbledore.
"Professor, what - ?"
"Miss Granger knocked you out. It seems that she has been taking self- defense. Yes?" Hermione nodded, red patches burning on her cheeks. "She has something to say to you, Mr. Malfoy." He turned to Hermione.
"I'm sorry, Malfoy," she muttered, looking Draco straight in the eye. She turned even redder. Professor Dumbledore nodded.
"You may leave the infirmary, now, Mr. Malfoy, if you like, or would you prefer to stay here?" Professor Dumbledore said, his blue eyes sparkling. Draco scowled.
"I will leave, thank you," he said sardonically. Realising that he was in his own robes, he rose from his bunk. Professor Dumbledore held the door open as Hermione and Draco walked out of the Hospital Wing.
"Draco, your luggage is in your dormitory. Miss Granger, you wouldn't mind showing Draco what to do, as he missed the opening lectures?" Hermione nodded. "This is your first assignment as a Prefect." Professor Dumbledore walked down the hallway, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
"How nice, I'm stuck with you," Draco said bitterly. "The Mudblood Granger - right now, red as Weasley's hair with a sunburn." Hermione didn't frown, nor did she even look at him. She thoughtfully twirled a strand of hair around her finger. Her expression changed quickly - from pensive to annoyed - and she stopped and narrowed her eyes at him. Draco stood still, watching Hermione cross her arms over her chest.
"Do you think I feel any better?"
"Well why wouldn't you like the privilege to accompany me?" Draco asked smugly. "I am the most charming wizard in this school, and - "
"Do not even start with me," she whispered, her face inches away from Draco's. He resisted the urge to cower under her fierce gaze. "It is because of you that I have a week of detentions - and school hasn't even started yet! And guess how I get to serve my detentions!" Draco sighed and shrugged carelessly. "With you!"
"What - "
"You have detention, too."
"For what?"
"Taunting me." She breathed deeply and walked briskly down the corridor. Draco jogged to keep up with her. He saw her raise her eyebrows as she noticed he was following.
"Oh, yes," she said quietly, "and I believe you owe me a broomstick."
"What?"
"You said you bet your broomstick that I wouldn't do anything," Hermione recalled with a smug grin. "And I did." Draco glared at her, but she took no notice.
Hermione started walking faster, Draco running along behind her.
"So what do I do first?" Draco said between pants. Hermione shoved a piece of parchment into his hand. It was a schedule of all fifth year classes.
"Workshops officially start tomorrow," Hermione said shortly, without even a glance at Draco. "We have the same classes, since we are in the same year. Fifth and sixth year classes are combined."
"But tomorrow is a Sunday," Draco moaned. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Yes, and congratulations on that great speculation. Here is our first class. The professor that teaches it hasn't arrived, yet, and I don't know who it is." She stopped in front of the Transfiguration classroom, which had a sign posted on the door: Magical Self-Defense.
"What is the password to my dormitory? I am the only Slytherin here, so - "
"Your password is Conanbeck." Draco began to push on the door, but Hermione started to walk away.
"Where are you going?" Draco called. Hermione stopped and turned back.
"It is lunch time, and I'm hungry." She spun around and hurried back down the hall. Draco ran after her. By the time he caught up with her, they were already in the Great Hall. The House tables were there, and Hermione sat down next to an older Prefect at her table and struck up a conversation.
Draco dropped himself into the chair at the head of the Slytherin table. He looked around and realised that the Ravenclaw table was practically full. There were only about eight Gryffindors, and about only six Hufflepuffs. He sighed as he looked down at all the empty chairs of his table. Not even the large meal in front of him looked inviting. He would be alone in his dormitory, too. At least I'm not at home, he reminded himself.
He finished his lunch in silence and looked around for Hermione.
"Looking for something?" a voice said from behind him. Draco spun around and saw Hermione standing there, her book bag slung over one shoulder. "Did you hear the announcement just now? Professor Dumbledore said that we should return to our dormitories. He said there will be a surprise later tonight." Draco shrugged and stalked away gloomily. He opened the door leading to the Entrance Hall and heard it close behind him with a thud. After a moment, Hermione strode after him.
"Wait!" she called. Draco stopped so that she could catch up.
"Yes?" Draco said, staring coldly at her. Hermione twirled her hair around her finger again.
"I couldn't help noticing that you are the only Slytherin here," she said mildly. "I thought you might like some company. Nobody would miss me in my common room. The only person who might notice I am gone is that Prefect, Nadine. She'll be glad I'm gone." Hermione smiled gently. "But only if you want me to." Draco shrugged.
"No, Mudblood," Draco muttered. "Go to your own common room." Hermione raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
"You're going to have to find another nickname for me, Malfoy," Hermione replied. She walked away quickly, as she had before.
Draco trudged up to his dormitory, muttered the password, and looked around. Home sweet home, he thought as he looked around the stone walls at the familiar tapestries and the old high backed chairs. He walked up a great stone staircase to his room and sprawled out onto his bed. He pounded the old pillow with his fist and set his head down on it.
As he was in the middle of feeling sorry for himself, he heard a small sound from the foot of his bed. He looked around and saw a small house elf in a white toga-like garment sweeping out dust from under his bed. The elf saw that he had been noticed, and quickly bowed so low that his long, pointed nose nearly touched the ground.
"I is sorry, sir," the elf said squeakily. "I is just sweeping, see. Dobby didn't mean to bother sir." Draco suddenly sat bolt upright, causing the poor elf to jump in surprise.
"You," he gasped. "Our old house elf. What are you doing here?" Dobby's tennis ball-sized green eyes became very wide.
"Little Master?" he stuttered. He nearly fell backward as he tried to straighten up. "What is Little Master doing here before term starts?"
"Summer program," Draco sighed. "What are you doing here? You work here now?" Dobby nodded vigorously.
"Sir, yes," he said. "Dobby gets paid now. Winky works here, too, sir."
"Crouch's elf?" Draco asked, and Dobby nodded again.
"Sorry, sir, but Dobby must finish cleaning. We is having a lot of work tonight." The elf disappeared with a small popping noise. Draco rose from his bed and walked down into his common room.
He sat down in one of the high-backed, black chairs and stared into the crackling fire in the fireplace.
"I can see you're having loads of fun by yourself." Draco jumped and looked at the chair beside him. Sitting next to him was Hermione.
"Heck, Granger, don't ever do that again," Draco said. "And how did you find this common room, Mudblood?" Hermione smirked.
"I've known where your common room is since my second year. I came to keep you company." Draco stared at her, bewildered inside, but not about to show it. His face was as cool and sarcastic as always. "And I told you earlier: you're going to need to find another nickname for me."
"Why? The name Mudblood suits you."
"I found out that I was adopted," Hermione said, smiling. "Mum and Dad told me before I left. I asked them who my parents were, but they said that they only knew my mother's name: Noella Connor. She is a witch - I looked it up. Mum and Dad didn't know who my father was, so I don't know much about him - I don't even know his name. I'm going to send a letter to Noella Connor, though, and ask her who my father is." Hermione smiled.
"You seem so cheerful," Draco drawled. "I'd think you'd be angry to find your parents disposed of you to some Muggle family." Hermione smirked.
"But now you can't call me Mudblood." She smiled again and then shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "You know, these chairs aren't nearly as soft as the ones in our common room. And how do you stand it in here? It's like a dungeon." Draco shrugged.
"You get used to it."
"I'd expect you to live in a place like this, Malfoy." There was an awkward pause between them.
"Granger," Draco blurted, shattering the silence. Hermione looked at him. "So why'd you come to keep me company? Was it the old Malfoy charm?"
"No," she said firmly. "I just felt sorry for you, being here all alone, and all. Want to play a game of wizard's chess?" Hermione pointed to an old, dusty chess board on a study table. "I'm really bad at it, but it's still fun." The two rose from their seats and walked to the table.
Three games later, Hermione winning only one, Draco convinced Hermione to retire from the game.
"But I need to win at least one more time!" she whined.
"My mother taught me," Draco said conceitedly. "There is no way you could defeat me at chess. My mother was the undefeated Wizard Chess Champion when she was at Hogwarts. She still holds the title."
"Maybe she should play against Ron," Hermione suggested. Draco shrugged.
"What are your parents like?"
"My adoptive parents are dentists," Hermione said as they sat down on the floor near the hearth. Draco realised how warm the dark green carpet was under him. Hermione sat with her arms around her legs and her head resting on her knees. Draco sat with his legs crossed and his back straight. "And they're very nice."
"What's a dentist?"
"A Muggle tooth doctor," she said. "As you know, they are both Muggles. My mum and dad look a bit like me, so I would never have expected to be adopted.. My father likes golf, swimming, and books, and my mum likes every sport but golf - she's very athletic. The first thing she wanted me to do was read about magical sports and magical medicine. They never expected to have magic in the family. The day I got my letter, I was so happy I could have cried. You wouldn't understand, though, as you knew your entire life that you would get into Hogwarts."
"No, not really," Draco said, stroking his chin. "My father does not have good history with Dumbledore. I was going to go to Durmstrang, where they only accept purebloods. That reminds me, what ever happened to you and Viktor Krum?" Hermione blushed scarlet.
"He is going away to some magical university, and I am three years younger than him, so it didn't work. I never really liked him that way, anyway. Shame; he was brilliant and kind. It is rare to find those two qualities in the one person." Draco stared at Hermione, and didn't see that she went even deeper scarlet.
"Isn't it strange that we are sitting and talking to each other?" Draco said softly. Hermione nodded.
"Yes, it is," she replied. "You've always called me a Mudblood, and Harry, Ron, and I always called you everything else." Hermione smiled. "And now it is strange to learn that you aren't such a bad person after all." Draco gave her a kittenish smile.
"Bad?" he said.
"Yes," Hermione answered. "You always acted so prejudice and harsh, but now I see that it was just a cover."
"I've never thought of myself as prejudiced or harsh," Draco said smartly. "Maybe handsome or devilishly charming, but never bad." Hermione smiled. Draco never remembered being smiled at like that. It made him feel as if she could look straight through him.
"Ooh!" Hermione yelped, looking at her wristwatch. "We need to get to the surprise."
She led him out of the dingy common room and to the Great Hall. There were three rows of chairs in a semicircle around a large platform that was raised before the staff table. Draco looked up and saw a clear, starry night sky above them. He hadn't realised how much time had gone by.
Professor Dumbledore waited until everyone was seated before he spoke.