Chapter 3: Causa Comperio

            The first thing she was aware of when she awoke was that there was somebody in bed next to her. This was a huge shock for Hermione. Never, in her seventeen years of life, had she shared a bed with another person. The second thing she noticed was that somehow her room seemed to have turned green. Surely it had been red before?

            "Awake, sleepy?" drawled a voice.

            It was Malfoy's voice! She, Hermione Granger was in Draco Malfoy's bed! Then the events of the night before came rushing back to her. In a situation like this, she didn't really know how to react. Intense feelings were washing over her. For the first time, Hermione Granger, she who had conquered Devil's Wort and discovered the hiding place of a Basilisk, did not know what to do. It didn't help that she was lying on Malfoy's arm and had her leg snugly wrapped around his.

            "Because if you are I would like my arm back, although I've been awake for about an hour my arm is still asleep! Aah, that's better." Malfoy pulled his arm away from her and massaged it. She laughed, grateful that he had made the whole thing seem funny and diffused the tension.

            "I didn't want to wake you, I knew you must be worn out from last night. And anyway, I was quite enjoying the sensation of being your human bolster, Hermione."

            So he was still calling her Hermione, was he? Well, that was a change.

            "Morning Draco" she rolled around to face him and delicately removed her leg from his. She smiled at him and he at her. "How's the body?"

            "Hot, manly, sexy…oh the usual."

            "Oh you are impossible!" she sat up in bed. Strangely, she didn't feel an urge to leave it just yet. She sneaked a look at him, he was lying with his chest exposed, covers drawn up over his waist, his blonde hair not slicked back as usual but flopping gently into his eyes. The bruises were gone though there were still scars.

"Like what you see, eh?" he said, with the usual Malfoy cockiness. He was teasing her. She felt all flustered and confused by it. She wasn't used to the fluttery feeling in her tummy and didn't know how to react to things like that.

"Just checking for your bruises. Oh, your towel fell off during the night! Hey, but your shoulder is healed! Where is it? Here it is…I think I'll go get some breakfast. What time is it? Oh my goodness! Eight Thirty! They'll be wondering where we are! Oh no, wait it's Sunday and we're on our own time. What would you like for breakfast? I think I'll go down to the kitchens and ask Dobby to get us something. I better explain to Harry and Ron why I missed breakfast I can say I was in the Library and lost track of time…"

She heard Malfoy chuckling. "What's so funny?"

"Did you know that you start babbling when you're nervous? I noticed it last night too."

"Oh." Hermione checked her flow of words and reached over and picked up the towel from beside Draco, where it had fallen off in the night. He grasped her wrist as she leaned over him.

"So, why are you nervous, Hermione?" he whispered hoarsely as he looked into her honey-coloured eyes. Her long chestnut hair fell down by her face like a curtain and brushed his cheek. He felt it there as if it were burning him. His steely gray eyes were soft and questioning. His firm jaw line set in a determined way. She felt as if ants were crawling all over her body and her head began to swim. She had an insane urge to kiss him and had to summon up all her self-control not to. Till last night, he had been her mortal enemy, for god's sake!

"I-I- don't know." She whispered. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her too, then the two of them began giggling and he released her. The intense moment had passed. With a shock, she realized she had enjoyed it.

"I'll go get breakfast and make the excuses. You can use the bathroom but please Draco, lie down again after that."

***************

"…so then I told Pansy to get lost but that Bulstrode girl kept following me. I lost my temper and turned her into bullfrog and popped her in my pocket. To my horror, she later said she wouldn't mind being a bullfrog as long as she could be always carried around in my cloak pocket!"

Hermione laughed till she cried. Draco was really good at telling funny stories. For the first time I the school year, head Boy and Girl were having breakfast together in their rooms. Draco was propped up in bed against soft pillows and munching on a piece of toast as Hermione speared a pancake and attacked it. She had managed to get the house elves to get them a rather decent breakfast on a tray.

Later it was Draco's turn to laugh when Hermione told him of the time in sixth when Ron had thought Harry was in love with him and panicked, trying to set Harry up with a large number of girls, all to dismal failure. Harry had had to go out on a disastrous number of dates to prove his manhood.

All the time, Draco couldn't believe that he was having a decent- no more than decent- conversation with a mudblood. He had been brought up his whole life to believe that mudbloods were stupid, worthless, pathetic creatures. But here he was, with a beautiful, intelligent witch and she was a mudblood.

"What were you thinking Malfoy? You seemed a bit lost for a while?"

"I was just thinking that I am having a real conversation with mudblood."

He regretted the words the moment he said them. Hermione's hand froze as she lifted her pancake to her mouth. Her face went white with hurt. I'm so stupid! Thought Draco.

"It's not what you think Hermione." He said softly, feeling her tense as he pushed her fork down from her lips gently. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, it doesn't matter what you are. That surprised me. I was wrong. Lucius- he winced at the name- was wrong. You are a good, intelligent, beautiful witch who saved my life. My stupid prejudices. I love talking to you. I think I really love…love…talking to you."

He saw her visibly relax. "Thanks Draco. But could you do me favour?"

"What"

"Could you not call me a mudblood again? I mean, I know I've learnt to deal with it over the years and what you say doesn't matter a toff to me anyway, but I would really rather you didn't. It reminds me of the old you."

He nodded. "Sure, I promise I won't call you that again. But Hermione. I'm still the old me. One night doesn't change anything you know."

She looked down at her hands. "No, I suppose not. It's just that you seemed different today. Stupid me."

Draco felt really confused. He wanted her to like him, be a friend to him, a true friend seeing as he had never had one before, but he needed to explain her that he couldn't trust himself, not after so many years of conditioning by Lucius. If his will was his own, he could promise her everything she asked, but he knew that part of him was bound to Lucius and to him that he served.

"Hermione..."

"Forget it, Malfoy."

She had called him Malfoy again.

"No, you don't understand Hermione. And call me *DRACO*! Please hear me out, and you'd better because something happened last night when you looked after me. Something unlocked inside me and I feel all wonderful and kind but I don't know how long it will last or if it will happen again and that's part of the problem you see. I don't know how I really feel about things. But I do know that what I'm feeling now is good, it feels *really* good and if I could have it my way, I would want to feel like this for the rest of my life- sitting here and talking with you and eating honey toast!"

"I'm listening… Draco" she said in a small voice.

"Hermione, this is the first real conversation I've had here at Hogwarts with you. I feel like six years of my life here went past only half-lived because I shut myself out from so many interesting and wonderful people and events happening around me. I shut myself out because of what my father told me, my hates, my prejudices. I can't believe I missed out on so much. Do I even care? Yes! I always had to act bitter and sneering and superior because it was how I was told Malfoys *should* act, there were times I wanted to  play gobstones with you and Seamus, I wanted to help Neville when his cauldrons exploded in Potions, wanted to bring someone other than Pansy to the Yule Balls…but I couldn't! And I am *fucking* mad about it!"

She pursed her lips at the expletive but remained calm. He could see she was struggling to understand him. It gave him strength to continue.

"Do I hate Potter? I don't know. I was told that I must, that I do…but I never had the chance to really make up my mind for myself. It was always made up for me…ha, yes Hermione, it's amazing what a few Crucios and Beatings can do towards making up your mind for you. Ever since I was five, I was beaten by Lucius, did you see all my scars? My mother couldn't do anything- she was often under the Imperius anyway. When I got older, I could resist the physical beatings better but then Lucius began using curses on me. Terrible ones. The beating you saw last night was hardly the worst. He wants me to be a Death-Eater you see, serve You-Know-Who…but I'll be *DAMNED* if I do."

He broke off here, clutching her hand tightly in his, sweat breaking out on his brow. He was panting for breath. It seemed to take a lot out of him.

"Wh-Why not?" asked Hermione, carefully, wanting to hear everything but afraid that pushing him too far might make him clam up again. Fortunately, he seemed willing to go on.

"Because I am a Malfoy and I *won't* be forced to do anything that doesn't benefit me! Yes, Hermione. Are you shocked I am so selfish? I figured it all out when I was ten and began to resist the beatings. Lucius always thought that Voldemort would give him power and riches if he helped him rise to power…Lucius is a damned fool. Voldemort would kill him once he's done with him, as he would all the other Death Eaters, but they're all too weak-brained to figure it out. In my blood runs the blood of many noble generations of Malfoys, we are rich and powerful but we were always self-serving. It is a prized Slytherin trait. So don't you go thinking I am all goody-goody and about to make friends with Potter and Dumbledore just because I'm telling you this…because you see, I have it figured out…I am a selfish, self-serving Malfoy who will do anything within my power to resist harm to myself, my family name and…. that includes resisting Voldemort!"

He was looking at Hermione feverishly. For a moment he looked as if her regretted telling her this. Then, as he saw understanding, compassion and damnit, pity in her eyes, he gave up the struggle and slumped back against the pillows.

"So now you know" he said hollowly.

There was a silence as Hermione formulated her thoughts. Poor Draco! What he must have gone through all these years! All those scars on him.

"What are you crying for, Hermione?" she heard him ask, not roughly.

She shook her head. She looked at him, she was a Gryffindor after all, her soul filled with bravery, dignity, compassion and …justice.

He repeated his question. "What are you crying for?"

"For you."