9:25
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"Are you sure you got them all?"
"Yes, Granger, I'm bloody well sure I got them all. I know you're used to dealing with your idiot Gryffindor friends, but-"
"Leave my friends out of this, Malfoy!"
They glared at each other for a long moment, doing battle with their eyes, then Draco surprised her by giving a graceful, one-shouldered shrug.
"Fine, Granger. Whatever you say. I won't mention your friends again, if you'll do me the same courtesy. I don't really want to bicker all night. Why make things harder than they have to be?"
She was reduced to simply staring for a long moment, before she realized her mouth was hanging open rather unattractively, and shut it with a snap. She had never expected Draco to be- well, agreeable. There was silence for a moment. Then,
"I just don't understand it," she said. "We're supposed to check and chart every half hour. It only takes ten minutes to do so. That leaves us twenty minutes of each half hour, or two-thirds total of the night, with nothing to do!"
Draco cast an eye at Hermione's overflowing bookbag. "Granger, you must have twenty books in there. Why don't you read?"
"They were all textbooks for today's classes, and I've finished every one of them. I didn't bring any pleasure reading. I never expected this!"
There was that nonchalant shrug again. "Cry me a river," Draco said mildly, then fished a pack of playing cards out of his own bag and began dealing himself a game of exploding solitaire.
Grumbling to herself, Hermione dug out her notes from the day and began rereading them. She had gone through all of them once and was halfway through them a second time when Draco called her attention to the fact that it was time to check-n-chart once again.
00000
10:05
Hermione was pacing by wandlight.
They had finished their second charting session by 9:55, and she had just settled in to finish her second rereading of her notes, when the lights in the astronomy tower had abruptly gone out.
There had been a moment of startled silence, then, from the far side of the room, where Draco had been sitting, she heard him murmur, "Lumos." Immediately a soft glow emanated from his wand, which allowed her to fumble her own wand out of her bag, where she had stored it all the way back before the astronomy lesson had begun- astronomy didn't generally call for wandwork- and ignite it as well.
"What on earth is going on?" she had demanded.
Draco, who had gone immediately back to his card game, his wand now giving out a steady light from where he had laid it on the floor beside him, hadn't looked up.
"It's ten-o-clock, Granger. Officially past curfew. All lights in the castle that are not in dormitories or common rooms go out at this time." He had sounded entirely unfazed. "Wouldn't expect you to know that, though," he'd added then; "let's see, Astronomy ends at nine, so you're probably tucked all snug in bed by nine-thirty every Friday night, dreaming of Arithmancy and Runes…or maybe, if you're feeling extra naughty-" and he glanced up for just an instant, a flash of quicksilver eyes, sending a trademark smirk her way- "studying by wandlight under your covers. You bad girl, you."
Which remark had led to her angry pacing as she attempted to phrase a reply that would adequately convey her deep contempt and utmost loathing for this obnoxious, stuck-up-
"Git!" she shouted suddenly, rounding on him, all hope of an intelligent comeback flying out the window. "That's all you are, Draco Malfoy. Just an obnoxious, stuck-up git!"
He raised his head again and this time kept it raised, merely regarding her, steadily, coolly, one eyebrow arched.
"I'll tell you what, mister high-and-mighty, mister I'm-so-proud-of-being-out-past-curfew-and-breaking-all-manner-of-school-rules," she continued furiously (choosing to conveniently ignore all the times over the years that she and her friends had done the exact same thing),"it just so happens I knew perfectly well about the lights going out at ten-o-clock. I can even tell you exactly when and why that spell was first implemented- it's right in 'Hogwarts, A History'. I just can't understand why the faculty would allow this particular light to go out on this particular night- Sinistra said they're all aware that we're in here; you would think they could have made an exception for us!"
"You've read 'Hogwarts, A History'?" Draco asked then, incredulously. "But why? What interest could a mu-Muggle like you have in the history of this school?"
Hermione closed her eyes and forced herself to take several deep, calming breaths, her hands clenching and unclenching spasmodically at her sides. "You just don't get it, do you?" she finally asked in a very tight voice. "I am not a Muggle. My parentage aside, Malfoy, I am just as much witch as you are wizard. There is every ounce as much magic in me as there is in you. And as for why I am interested in the history of Hogwarts, oh, I don't know, maybe it's because this is MY SCHOOL TOO?"
For a moment, no response from Draco. Then, "so you've read the whole book, have you?" he asked, in a casual tone, completely ignoring her emotional outburst, catching her entirely off-guard.
"I-I- three times," she stammered.
A smug look settled on his face. "Four," he said.
"Bollocks," she snapped automatically, then her eyes widened and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth, unable to believe herself what she had just said. Oh, Malfoy was a bad influence on her all right- a dangerously bad influence.
Draco, for his part, looked hugely amused. "Such language, Granger," he tutted, through a smirk that was very nearly a grin. "Go on and ask me something if you don't believe me, you foulmouthed little shrew."
"What time is it?"
"I meant something from the- oh, right. Time for another charting session."
00000
10:35
"All right, then, tell me why the school was briefly closed in the year 1643."
"Pixie infestation." Draco yawned. "Come on, Granger, you can do better than that. Ask me something that actually proves I've read the book, why don't you?"
Hermione huffed, jutted out her lower lip petulantly and blew upwards at a stray curl that had fallen across her brow. That had been the third question Draco had answered both promptly and correctly, and as far as she was concerned, he had indeed proved that he had read the book. The bastard. This was supposed to be her area of expertise. Hers and hers alone. If Ron and Harry knew that Malfoy of all people- just a dumb Slytherin- had read "Hogwarts, A History" more often than she had, they would never let her live it down.
Draco chuckled at her obvious discomfiture. As if reading her mind, he said, "you and your friends have a bad habit of judging all Slytherins according to Crabbe and Goyle. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out why, when most of us are fairly intelligent people. Look at the traits that were prized by the founder of my House; cleverness, resourcefulness, ambition. Not a lot of stupid people have all those traits. Honestly, Granger, just because you don't like us doesn't mean we're all dumb."
She stared at him, rendered momentarily speechless. She had never thought of it that way. Never expected Draco Malfoy to defend himself and his Housemates from her preconceived notions so calmly and articulately. It was at that very moment that it first occurred to her that there could be more- a lot more- to this boy- nearly a man now- that she had hated for close to six full years. Also that his soft, near-colorless hair looked strangely appealing by wandlight, and-
STOP THAT!
00000
11:00
"All right, Zabini then."
"Blaise? Blaise is a bloody genius. Smarter than I am, perhaps, and I don't say that about just anyone. More underhanded, too."
Hermione snorted her disbelief. "More underhanded than you?"
"Granger, you Gryffindors don't know from underhanded. You think I'm underhanded because I make snide remarks- that's not what underhanded is. For a Slytherin, I practically wear my heart on my sleeve. Someone underhanded would be more or less civil to your face- much like Zabini- but you wouldn't want to know what's going on behind your back."
Well. Hermione was taken aback. That was certainly food for thought.
"What about Pansy?" she asked after a moment. "You can't tell me she's smart. She's the very definition of a dumb blonde."
Draco shook his head slowly, looking unexpectedly thoughtful. "Pansy's not stupid," he said at length, "she's just unmotivated. An underachiever. The course of her entire life has been plotted out for her by her parents, and whether she earns top marks or bottom marks makes no difference to those plans, just so long as she can say she finished school. So she does the bare minimum to get by- she doesn't see a point in doing more. It's not like she's going to be a career woman. She's going into an arranged marriage, you know, right after graduation."
Hermione gasped. "That's- that's horrible! That ought to have been outlawed! Centuries ago! Who is she marrying?"
"Me."
00000
11:40
"What the hell is that thing?"
"Fawkes!"
For indeed, Dumbledore's phoenix had just flown into the room via the same open window through which the telescope was jutting. He sailed three times around the perimeter of the large, circular tower room, warbling his eerie, beautiful song all the while, then alighted on Hermione's shoulder, shifting his weight from one taloned foot to the other, clacking his beak contentedly and poking his fiery head into the curtain of her thick, dark hair.
"Fawkes," Hermione crooned delightedly, "so you're Dumbledore's mysterious chaperone! Come to check up on us, have you?"
Withdrawing his head from her hair, Fawkes bobbed it up and down once, as if in response to her question, then took off, circled the room once more, and left.
Hermione turned toward Draco, who was staring after the bird with the strangest expression on his face; one of mingled amazement and alarm.
"Malfoy, are you going to tell me that you were born and raised in the wizarding world and have never seen a phoenix before?"
She watched interestedly as he composed himself, his features smoothing back into his usual expression of bored disdain. "My family doesn't hold with phoenixes, Granger," he said at length. "I've been told they're nasty, vicious creatures."
"Funny," she replied, "I've always heard the same thing about snakes."
He gave her a long, intent and- was it just a trace unsettled?- look from those strange, pale eyes of his, but when he spoke, it was only to say, "time to chart again, Granger."
00000
12:00
It was on the dot of midnight that Dobby appeared with a soft pop, bearing a covered wicker basket in one hand, with a red and white checked tablecloth folded over his other arm, a solemn expression on his face, looking humorously like a waiter in a fine restaurant.
His large eyes lit up when he saw Hermione. "Hello, miss," he squeaked, shaking the tablecloth out with a flourish, spreading it on the floor and laying the basket in the middle of it. "Dumbledore is saying to bring this midnight picnic up to the astronomy tower, but Dobby wasn't expecting to be seeing- eep!"
He had just caught sight of Draco, sitting once more with his back against the far wall, completely engrossed in the card game he had resumed as soon as the latest check-n-chart had been completed. He hadn't even looked up, apparently not deeming the presence of a house elf to be worth his attention- it was as if the elf's high-pitched voice didn't even register in his mind.
He certainly had Dobby's full attention, however. The little creature backed up first one step, then another, the look of pleasure that had suffused his face upon seeing Hermione replaced by utmost horror.
Hermione, for her part, looked from Dobby to Draco and back again, blankly at first- but then her eyes widened and her mouth formed a soundless little 'oh' as realization struck. "It's all right, Dobby," she said soothingly, "he's-"
But before she could finish speaking, the elf had vanished with one more frightened squeak.
Draco looked up then, an expression of mild interest on his face.
"Did you say 'Dobby'? We used to have a house elf called that. Completely worthless, that one was. Father said he gave it clothes- and past time, too, if you ask me. Hardly got any work done at all, far too busy slamming its ridiculous ears in the- oh! Look, our midnight snack's arrived."
00000
12:25
"No."
"But-"
"No."
"But-"
Draco put down the piece of cold chicken he'd been munching on and leveled his gaze on Hermione. "The answer, Granger, is no. You can ask me a hundred times and it will still be no, so I suggest you give it up. It will be a cold day in hell when I join your preposterous house elf liberation society." He picked the chicken up again and tore off a large chunk with his teeth. "Absurd," he mumbled through the mouthful of food.
Hermione's ensuing glare would have sent both Harry and Ron running for the hills. On Draco, however, it had no discernable effect.
"You, Draco Malfoy, are a- a- barbarian!"
There was that easy single-shoulder shrug yet again. "The way I see it," he said calmly, after having swallowed, "I'm taking a stand for the elves here. I'm protecting both their best interests and my own. They like to serve. I like to be served. It's a win-win situation, Granger. And you're not going to convince me otherwise."
"Your old elf Dobby didn't like serving you, you arrogant, self-centered-"
"My old elf Dobby was worthless. I already told you that. It didn't like much of anything except for self-inflicted pain." His eyes narrowed then. "And anyway- what would you know about it?"
Hermione thought fast. Draco hadn't seen Dobby come in, but Dobby had seen Draco and was plainly out of his little mind with fear. If Draco didn't know his former servant was working at Hogwarts, did she really want to tip him off?
"Just…um…guessing?" she said lamely.
Those pale eyes narrowed further, until they were mere silver slits in the dim wandlight.
"Hmm…"