The last Saturday of September, Hermione sat at her usual out of the way table in the library, running over her Herbology assignment, when a tap on her shoulder made her jump.
"Geez Draco, I should get you a little bell to wear around your neck. I nearly spilled my ink."
He grinned at her, unrepentant.
"Sorry," he lied, pulling out a chair and sitting down.
"Yeah, whatever. Let's see what you've got. I added little bits to the ends of my sections so they'd lead into yours. And I figure that an introduction and conclusion could just sort of be a summary of the main points of the essay. Sound good?"
"Sure, sounds fine," agreed Draco. He handed her the scroll with his new essay. After a watching her read for a few moments he spoke again. "Look, I wanted to apologize for making you mad last week. It was stupid argument, and I didn't think."
Hermione looked up at him from the parchment, surprised and suspicious. "You're apologizing? Draco Malfoy's apologizing? Am I hearing things?" A thought came to her. "Or do you just want me to copy out the final essay?"
"No, really. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make you mad, and when I thought about it, I realized that what I said was stupid," Draco replied, realizing as he spoke that what he said was true. "I mean, I've never met a Muggle, really, so why should I care about them. And I guess that maybe I was a little extreme about the whole no Muggles thing. I thought about what you said, and it kinda made sense. I was just mad, okay?"
Hermione kept staring at him until Draco started feeling uncomfortable. Finally, she spoke.
"I'm really not quite sure what to think here, Malfoy. It's a bit of a 180 from what you're usually saying is all. What about all that 'Death to Muggles' stuff from last year? Because I thought you were pretty serious about that?"
"Well, it's not like I really thought about it. And my father says that if people cared less about Muggles, we could deal with things better. He figures that if we completely cut ourselves off from the Muggle world, we would be better for it."
"So from that you figured that it was okay to kill Muggles?"
"Look, I said I didn't really think about it, okay?"
Hermione snorted. "Obviously. Too busy sucking up to Papa, huh?"
"Leave my father out of this, Granger!"
"Fine. I won't insult the Great Lucius Malfoy. Too easy of a target."
Draco glared. "Let's just get this assignment sorted out. Obviously it was a mistake to try and talk sensibly. I should never have bothered."
"Fine."
Hermione went back to reading the essay Draco had given her, and Draco started making lists of the important points he thought should be in the introduction and conclusion. When she finally looked up again, he tried to keep his voice level.
"All right. I've listed the points I think should be in the lead in and summary. So why don't we come up with a way of tying them together. And since I'm pretty much done the rest of my work for the weekend, I'll copy out the final product. Is that acceptable?"
Hermione nodded, and for nearly twenty minutes the two worked in near harmony as they wrapped up the final details of their paper. As they worked through the layout of the essay, Draco stole occasional glances at Hermione. She'd gathered her hair into a bun and stuck a quill that had lost most of its feather through it. He found himself staring at her neck as she wrote out the outline they'd agreed upon. It seemed that now that he wasn't fully concentrated on hating her, he was starting to notice things he'd never been willing to see before. When she looked up suddenly, Draco shook his head and flushed slightly.
"So, I think we've got it all laid out," she said. "If you have any problems sorting it out, I should be here for a couple hours this evening and most of tomorrow. Or I suppose you can come find me at meal time."
"Yeah, if I want Potty or the Weasel to punch me out," he pointed out.
"Why on earth do you call Ron that?" she asked angrily. "It's not like he's ever done anything to you. I mean, Harry I can understand, he's pretty much your antithesis, but you've been nasty to Ron since before you even met him, really."
"So?" he asked. "He's a Weasley. That whole family's loopy. My father calls them an insult to wizarding."
"Good grief! Don't you ever have an original thought?" Hermione snapped. Draco stared at her blankly as she rushed on. "It seems like every second sentence in your argument is prefaced with 'my father says' or 'according to my father' or some such garbage. If I worshipped my father as much as you do yours they'd be sending me to a psychologist."
Hermione stood and gathered her books as he watched her, speechless.
"Come on, Draco, think for yourself for once. Do you actually believe anything you're saying, have you even thought it through? Or do you just accept it as the truth because," she said mockingly, "your father says ?"
With that remark, she turned on her heel and left the alcove, leaving Draco alone with a pile of parchment and a whirl of confusing thoughts.
. . .
While Draco spent the next several days writing the final essay and trying ignore what Hermione had said, it seemed the professors' experiment was working on the rest of the student body. As the majority of the fifth year Slytherins and Gryffindors began to adopt the attitude of acceptance, the lower years followed suit. It was actually being commented upon by Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws when they shared classes with the two houses. As the experiment and its outcome were explained, the other two houses began to adjust their attitudes as well. Few of the students in the potions class were upset when Snape put off administering the normalizing potions on the excuse that there were still some pairings that had not been resolved. Most had slipped into acceptance of their partners, even occasional friendships, over the weeks of the fall term. By the time the Halloween was approaching, there was greater harmony in the school than had been felt for nearly two decades. With a few notable exceptions.
"Well, Minerva, it's looking as though we have a few lost causes in our midst." Snape was looking sadly over the great hall at dinner one evening in mid October.
"Don't beat yourself up, Severus," she admonished. "There are some minds where simple magic is not enough. It is perhaps fair to say that Goyle and Crabbe were lost to us before they even came here. Living in those families, it's a wonder they have managed to keep their intentions hidden so far."
He sighed. "I know, those two I understand. And also young Collier in second year. But it's Malfoy who frustrates me. Perhaps it was wrong to let them proceed with the incorrect potion. I will only blame myself if that one joins his father. I've tried so hard to pull him away."
"Yes, Severus, I understand. But there was nothing that could be done. The Fidelitas is based on the same principles of bonds and trust, simply magnified. I had so hoped that the Granger girl could break down some of Malfoy's barriers and make him see what the others are realizing. The boy is not stupid, we know this. And I understand that they have been fighting spectacularly for the past several weeks. Perhaps she's getting somewhere."
"Well, I have been informed that he is spending less and less time with Crabbe and Goyle. Perhaps that is a positive sign. I only hope that there will be some break through soon. I can't keep coming up with excuses for why their potion's pairing drags on. Soon I'll have to let them move on, or they will complain to Dumbledore. Or worse, Malfoy will speak with his father."
"We can only hope that something will happen soon. If Malfoy has refrained from going to his father so far, perhaps there is a distance growing there. Which can only be positive. We have accomplished much so far, we must keep up hope."
. . .
Later that evening, Draco was curled up in a chair in the Slytherin common room, having turned down Crabbe and Goyle's offer to go make fun of the Hufflepuff's Quidditch practice. He really wasn't in the mood for spending time with those two. Since he'd had his last fight with Hermione, he had been spending a lot of his time on his own, trying to come up with defenses against her accusations. Trying, and failing.
They'd met one more time to work on their paper, and there had been surprisingly little said. She read over what he'd written out and approved it. He had been so furious over their last conversation that he hadn't wanted to talk, and she had rushed away as soon as they had agreed that he would present the paper to Snape. He had supposed that that was the end of his working with Hermione, but Snape seemed to have a more twisted sense of humor than anyone had realized. He had not only refused to administer the normalizing potion but also assigned another essay to be done by the student pairings. Draco nearly choked when the new work was announced. He was getting more and more uncomfortable working with Hermione in class, with the awkward silences as they brewed potions side by side. He was starting to realize as they worked together that she was actually an interesting and intelligent girl, and this wasn't helping his attempts the dismiss their debates.
The more he thought about what she had said about his father, the more he realized how right she had been. And that lead to questions about what he truly believed, which were unsettling at a time when it seemed that fewer and fewer of his fellow Slytherins shared his father's opinions. The only two he knew of were Crabbe and Goyle, and trying to discuss the issues with them was akin to banging his head against a wall. They believed what they were told so unquestioningly that it simply made Draco doubt his own convictions even more. What he really wanted was someone reasonable and intelligent to talk to about the whole issue. And the worst part of that was the only person who came to mind was Hermione Granger.
. . .
Hermione was sitting at lunch a few days after Snape had assigned their new Potion's torture, as Ron called it, when Draco walked over to where she was sitting. Ron glared as Draco approached.
"What does that creep want?" he growled.
"Probably to talk to me about our homework, Ron. He is my partner," pointed out Hermione.
"Well, can't you talk about it in class?"
"We don't have another class until next Monday, and we have to get started," she said, reasonably.
"Fine, whatever. But I don't like him coming to our table."
"Why not, Ron?" asked his sister. "It's not like you're getting all grumpy when Regina comes over to hang out."
Ginny and Hermione grinned at each other as Ron's ears turned scarlet.
"That's different," he said defensively, "Regina's nice. Malfoy's a jerk, and unlike most of the Slytherins, I don't see him turning out to be human."
"I have to agree with Ron," Hermione told Ginny. "Malfoy's going to end up following his father, turning into a Death Eater without even thinking about it. But I still don't want you punching him out, okay Ron?"
"Why Granger," Draco's mocking voice came from over her shoulder, "Rising to my defense. How nice."
She turned around slowly. "What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked coldly.
"I just wanted to know if tonight was a good time to get together to discuss our new assignment."
"Yeah, tonight's fine. Seven, at the library?"
"Sounds good. But maybe you should leave the bodyguard at home, huh?"
. . .
Draco walked off before she could respond. He had heard the end of her conversation and was shaking with fury and hurt that she could think of him that way. Well, if she thought he was a mindless pawn of his father's, he was going to prove her wrong.
.
When Hermione arrived at the library that evening, Draco was waiting outside the doors. As she moved past him to enter, he grabbed her arm and stopped her.
"I was wondering if we could do this somewhere else tonight," he asked. "I'm getting a little sick of getting glared at for fighting in there."
"That's assuming we're going to fight, Malfoy," she pointed out.
"Well, with us it's pretty much expected, isn't it, Hermione?"
She looked at him with confusion, as they both realized he'd used her first name. After a moment, she nodded and turned away from the library doors.
"Okay, Malfoy, where do you want to go?"
"I was thinking we could try and see if one of the classrooms near the Great Hall were open. They sometimes are, since the teachers don't leave anything important in there."
"Sounds fine by me," Hermione said. "Lead the way."
As they walked together in silence, Draco tried to come up with a way of starting the conversation he wanted to have. He couldn't seem to come up with any lead in that didn't sound argumentative or mean. By the time they reached the main hallway and had started testing door knobs, he'd pretty much given up on finding a way of saying what he wanted. Fortunately, Hermione's impatience got the better of her before he could make a fool of himself.
"So Malfoy, I'm figuring there was probably another reason you wanted to come work here rather than the library. D'you plan on keeping me in suspense all night, or are you going to let me in on the secret?"
As Hermione spoke, the door knob under Draco's hand turned. Silently, he stood back and motioned Hermione into the room. As she entered, Hermione muttered the spell to illuminate the lanterns hanging from the ceiling, filling the dusty room with an amber glow. Following her inside, Draco shut the door behind him and put his book bag on the nearest desk. He took a deep breath, still not entirely sure where to start.
"Okay, Hermione, yes, I did want to talk to you away from the library for reasons other than school. I'm not quite sure how to say this, so please be patient."
She nodded at his pleading look. Putting her books down, she perched on the desk in front of him.
"All right. You remember that fight we had the other week where you accused me of not thinking for myself?"
Hermione nodded again, not wanting to interrupt him.
"So I've been thinking about what you said. A lot. Pretty much all the time. I guess I've come to the conclusion that you're right, and that I have been pretty much a parrot for what my father says. I spend so much time with people like Goyle and Crabbe, people who've never thought about anything more complicated than what to eat at dinner, and so I never really thought about any of those things you got mad at me about. I just want you to know that what you said got through to me. And now I really need someone to talk to about a lot of things I have questions about. And I was hoping that I could talk to you."
Draco stopped and took a deep breath. He'd been looking at the floor while he spoke, and when Hermione didn't respond after a few seconds, he looked up at her face. She was smiling. Not smirking or even grinning, just smiling. Draco stared at her in confusion. Finally, she spoke.
"Well, this was not was I expected to hear. This is great. I mean, I'm assuming that it doesn't mean you've decided to ask if you can switch houses and join Gryffindor or anything. But wow, this is really not what I expected."
Draco tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling, relieved. He'd been afraid she was going to laugh in his face or call him some horrible names. He wasn't quite sure what her reaction could be called, but it was positive.
"So, Malfoy," Hermione continued, "what do you want to talk about? Is there some issue in particular, or do you just want someone to listen to you ramble? Because maybe rambling should be done on some night when we don't have mountains of school work."
"I don't think there's anything in particular, right now," he admitted. "Everything's kinda jumbled up in my head right now. I don't know what I think about anything. I mean, if you take away all the stuff my father taught me about life, I really don't have much of a basis for believing anything. I don't know where I stand. I guess I know that I don't think that killing people and hurting people is right. And I'm starting to think that I really don't want to be a Death Eater. But I'm not sure. I mean, what if they win? They'll kill anyone who didn't fight on their side. And I really, really don't want to die."
"Draco, they aren't going to win," Hermione said firmly. "I'm surprised you haven't figured that one out yet. No one's going to let You Know Who get away with this. Dumbledore, and Harry, and Sirius, and so many other people, are going to stop him, just like last time. Except this time he's never coming back, and people like your father are going to end up in Azkaban. And you know that's not where you want to be, right?"
"Well, yeah, obviously. But I've always been taught that you figure out which side's stronger, and you pick them. And Father always said that it's people like him that have the power. Not the Weasleys of the world. And I'm not parroting what he says here. It's true. My father has power, and respect, and I want that too."
"Respect," scoffed Hermione. "Try fear. And only some people feel even that. You don't understand what respect is, anyway. It's something that has to be earned, by doing and saying things that people admire. Not by following whoever is most powerful at the moment and then switching sides when it looks bad for you. Your family isn't respected. Everyone knows that your dad was a Death Eater and then pretended to switch back so he wouldn't go to Azkaban. And if you understood anything, you'd realize that the only reason that the people who do 'respect' him do so because they're scared."
"But he is able to make people do things, like getting Dumbledore suspended that time."
"Yeah, and that was pure blackmail, wasn't it? And generally as more people start to realize that your father is on Voldemort's side, the 'respect' will start to disappear, since no one wants to be manipulated by a Death Eater. Only the incredibly blind and stupid, like Minister Fudge, still listen to your dad. Most people, and these are powerful people though you might not have figured it out yet, know your father for what he is, and are working to pull him down."
"But..."
"Look, Draco, we can argue this point all night. I have homework to do. If you want to keep talking about things like this, why don't we do it this weekend, when I'm not trying to finish three different projects, okay? You may be having a crisis of faith, but it's not going to get me behind in my school work."
Draco smiled at her remark as she hopped of the desk, grabbed her books, and headed for the door.
"Hermione," he called.
She turned with her hand on the door knob. "Yes?"
"After lunch on Saturday then? We can talk about the Potions work and then maybe just, well, talk?"
"Sure, Draco. Saturday." And she hurried out of the room.
. . .
Draco sat on the desk beside his book bag. Saturday. Saturday he could talk with Hermione. Maybe even have a debate about some point or other. He had to think of somewhere to take her. If they were going to have a proper chat, they should go somewhere better than an empty classroom. Maybe if the weather was nice they could go out on the grounds. Like a picnic. He pictured Hermione sitting on a blanket in the sun, the wind lifting her hair, and then shook his head with surprise at the image. Although it was a nice thought. Even if she was there for the homework and serious conversation, nothing said he couldn't look. Mmm... he was looking forward to Saturday.
. . .
As Hermione tried to concentrate on her Arithmancy homework, her mind kept slipping back to her bizarre conversation with Draco. She still wasn't quite sure what was going on with him, or what she felt about him suddenly acting so differently. It was very disturbing, managing to have if not a civil conversation at least a reasonable debate with someone she'd always thought of as a complete blockhead.
"Hey Mione, that quill done something to offend you?" Ginny Weasley's voice broke into Hermione's thoughts.
"What? No, why?" asked Hermione.
"Well, the old 'if looks could kill' y'know. You were glaring at it as though it had said something rude."
"No, just thinking."
"Hmmm... horrible thought, huh? You met with Draco earlier didn't you?"
"Yeah," Hermione admitted. "And it was weird, Gin. He was definitely acting in a non-Draco like manner. It threw me a bit."
"So what was he doing, exactly?" her friend asked. "I figured the day Draco stopped acting like a superior snot, the sky would turn pink."
"Well, you might want to take a peek out the window, because he was being reasonably friendly, and he actually admitted that perhaps he doesn't want to end up like his father. It was really weird," Hermione admitted.
"Maybe someone's bewitched him," Ginny said.
"Yeah, or maybe he grew a spine. Or a brain. Whichever one it was that it took for him to form an original thought. And he wants to spend time with me on Saturday. To talk, he said."
"To talk?" Ginny laughed. "Boys don't want 'to talk.' Are you sure you haven't charmed him with your witchy good looks?"
Hermione threw her quill at the other girl. "Get real, Gin. The day that Draco notices someone else's looks is the day I go skinny dipping in the lake."
"I'll hold you to that one," her friend threatened. "I'd be willing to bet that Draco's got just a weensy little crush on you. I knew all this inter-house friendship was going to make things interesting."
"Ew, Ew, Ew," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose. "Can I point out how much I don't want Draco to have a crush on me? I'm still adjusting the civil conversation part."
"Oh I don't know, he's pretty cute, you have to admit. And if he gets a nice new attitude to go with those Golden Boy looks, really, what's wrong with him?"
"Oh, I don't know. I guess you're right. I mean, he does have the most incredible grey eyes. Have you ever noticed?"
Ginny looked at her friend in fake shock. "Hermione, you were noticing a boy! I think I may have to write the Daily Prophet."
"What? This was your idea, Ginny Weasley. And if you tell anyone that I think Draco's cute, I'll tell Harry that you kissed Seamus."
"You wouldn't," Ginny looked horrified, and as pale as one of the ghosts. "That was ages before I started dating Harry. But still - you wouldn't dare. I'm way meaner than you, Mione."
"I know," giggled Hermione. "But it was great to see your face. But please don't tell anyone about this Draco thing. I have no idea what's going on. And I figure he's probably just looking for a friend to talk to. It's not like he could have had much intelligent conversation the last four years, hanging out with Crabbe and Goyle."
"You got it, Mione. Lips are sealed here. But I expect to be the first to know if anything, happens. 'Kay?"
"Deal - but like I said, I doubt it."
"Sure."
Ginny stood and moved away from the table. ~Hermione and Draco,~ she thought ~who would have guessed? This could get really interesting.~ She smiled to herself as she headed off to have a little chat with her boyfriend.