That occupied them for several minutes, and then, with great difficulty,
Draco pulled away and reached for something on the seat beside him. He
presented the leather case to Hermione, whose eyes widened.
"Ooh, Draco, my birthday isn't for another two weeks." Her fingers danced over the buckles.
Draco covered quickly. "I wanted to see you open it."
Open it Hermione did, and gasped at the contents. Rows of glass vials winked up at her, surrounded by labeled paper packets. Hermione read the top ones: Floo Powder, asphodel, and. . . Earl Grey.
The phials proved less amusing. Exploding Extract, Cobra venom, and Non- Specific Polyjuice were only some of the contents. In addition, the case contained a ring of silver lock picks, a grayish folded cloth, and a wand that looked suspiciously like Hermione's own.
She took the cloth out, uncovering a bottle-green glass fountain pen. It proved to be a tailored vest with pewter button. The nubbly texture of the fabric felt strange under Hermione's fingers. She looked up at Draco. "This isn't-"
"Togu leather. From Paris. It wasn't nearly as hard to get as some of the other things. Most of the potions were Snape's leftovers, with Potency Charms added. The herbs are from the Apothecary. Most of them. The rest of the stuff, well, I'd appriciate it if you didn't show everyone at Hogwarts. The lock picks are from Knockturn. They'll open anything with a keyhole without leaving a magical signature. Of course, finding the keyhole's usually the problem" Draco realized he was babbling most uncharacteristically. "It's an Auror's Kit," he finished. "As close to Ministry issue as I could get it."
Hermione picked out the wand and balanced it on two fingers. "No two wands are alike. How do you know this one will work for me?"
"Mr. Olivander gave me a fifty-year guarantee on it. He also asked entirely too many questions." Not a virtue in Draco's book.
"It really was lovely of you, Draco, but this can't be legal."
Draco didn't seem troubled by this. "Legally gotten, no, but the Ministry issues everything--"
"To fully certified Aurors!" Hermione interrupted him. "I realize you went to a great deal of trouble, but really, it's not right."
Draco's mouth stopped its slow progression into a scowl. "Not right? You know as well as I do that Lord Voldemort has returned. Just because he kept quiet last year doesn't mean he's gone away. And maybe you don't know, but he's stronger than anyone at the Ministry, especially that idiot Fudge, suspects."
"Draco--"
He kept going. "D'you know what Father was away on business 'doing,' 'Mione? He was traveling all over Europe, pulling strings to get people out of Azkaban. Voldemort's people. And there you are at Hogwarts, Harry Potter's best friend and the love of my life, and it's not right for you to have a bit of something to protect yourself with?" Draco's voice had gotten quieter as he went on, until he was whispering ferociously at Hermione.
"Calm down," she said shakily, when he had finished. "How do you know all this?"
"Dinner conversation. In the past month we've entertained five Death Eaters, two vampires, one hag, and a werewolf, not to mention Hecate Zabini, who is at once the most beautiful and evil thing ever to walk the earth."
"You need to tell Dumbledore."
"I will."
"Thank you. For everything. I will make good use of this." Hermione packed the case back up and buckled it. "We have to do something. I mean, we're Head Boy and Girl."
"And in opposing Houses," Draco pointed out. "Since when did a Slytherin and Gryfindor get anything done together? Least of all us." He almost leered.
"Draco Malfoy, if you think I'm going to spend all year sneaking off into closets and dark corners with you--"
"'Mione, I don't want to love like that. I have morals, you know."
"No!" She leaned back against his chest. "And here I thought you were an unscrupulous Slytherin, and a Malfoy to boot."
He stroked her hair. "I don't want to be a Slytherin any more. Or a Malfoy."
"Do you have a middle name?"
"Several. Draconis Voldemort Lucien Xavier Narcissus de Malfoy, at your service."
"What were your parents thinking?" Hermione seized the hand not entwined in her hair and began to rub it.
"Oh, I imagine it was something along the lines of: 'Let's honor the Dark Lord and all of the family ancestors in a way that's French and embarrassing.'"
Hermione ran through the list to find one that wasn't too familial or evil. "Draco Xavier."
"Draco X. That suits. Now, back to the task at hand."
Hermione sat up. "One of us could transfer. You said I'd make a wonderful Slytherin."
"If you'll recall the circumstances under which I said it, and what you'd just said to me, you won't want to transfer to Slytherin. The girls are even worse than the boys," he added.
"Are you saying I couldn't do it?" Hermione challenged.
"No, I'm saying I don't want you to do it." Draco watched the play of conflicting emotions across her face.
"Well, I suppose I wouldn't want you in a dorm with Harry and Ron. They're terribly untidy."
"Agreed. So we both switch to a different House."
"But the Sorting Hat. How can you be sure it'll put us both in--"
"Ravenclaw," they both said together, remembering that first real conversation, back last December.
"If it was there then, it's there now. Maybe more." It was all Hermione was willing to say. "But how do we convince Dumbledore?"
"Think like a Slytherin, 'Mione! What's the final authority on who goes in which House?"
"The Sorting Hat. . . ."
They began to scheme.
"Ooh, Draco, my birthday isn't for another two weeks." Her fingers danced over the buckles.
Draco covered quickly. "I wanted to see you open it."
Open it Hermione did, and gasped at the contents. Rows of glass vials winked up at her, surrounded by labeled paper packets. Hermione read the top ones: Floo Powder, asphodel, and. . . Earl Grey.
The phials proved less amusing. Exploding Extract, Cobra venom, and Non- Specific Polyjuice were only some of the contents. In addition, the case contained a ring of silver lock picks, a grayish folded cloth, and a wand that looked suspiciously like Hermione's own.
She took the cloth out, uncovering a bottle-green glass fountain pen. It proved to be a tailored vest with pewter button. The nubbly texture of the fabric felt strange under Hermione's fingers. She looked up at Draco. "This isn't-"
"Togu leather. From Paris. It wasn't nearly as hard to get as some of the other things. Most of the potions were Snape's leftovers, with Potency Charms added. The herbs are from the Apothecary. Most of them. The rest of the stuff, well, I'd appriciate it if you didn't show everyone at Hogwarts. The lock picks are from Knockturn. They'll open anything with a keyhole without leaving a magical signature. Of course, finding the keyhole's usually the problem" Draco realized he was babbling most uncharacteristically. "It's an Auror's Kit," he finished. "As close to Ministry issue as I could get it."
Hermione picked out the wand and balanced it on two fingers. "No two wands are alike. How do you know this one will work for me?"
"Mr. Olivander gave me a fifty-year guarantee on it. He also asked entirely too many questions." Not a virtue in Draco's book.
"It really was lovely of you, Draco, but this can't be legal."
Draco didn't seem troubled by this. "Legally gotten, no, but the Ministry issues everything--"
"To fully certified Aurors!" Hermione interrupted him. "I realize you went to a great deal of trouble, but really, it's not right."
Draco's mouth stopped its slow progression into a scowl. "Not right? You know as well as I do that Lord Voldemort has returned. Just because he kept quiet last year doesn't mean he's gone away. And maybe you don't know, but he's stronger than anyone at the Ministry, especially that idiot Fudge, suspects."
"Draco--"
He kept going. "D'you know what Father was away on business 'doing,' 'Mione? He was traveling all over Europe, pulling strings to get people out of Azkaban. Voldemort's people. And there you are at Hogwarts, Harry Potter's best friend and the love of my life, and it's not right for you to have a bit of something to protect yourself with?" Draco's voice had gotten quieter as he went on, until he was whispering ferociously at Hermione.
"Calm down," she said shakily, when he had finished. "How do you know all this?"
"Dinner conversation. In the past month we've entertained five Death Eaters, two vampires, one hag, and a werewolf, not to mention Hecate Zabini, who is at once the most beautiful and evil thing ever to walk the earth."
"You need to tell Dumbledore."
"I will."
"Thank you. For everything. I will make good use of this." Hermione packed the case back up and buckled it. "We have to do something. I mean, we're Head Boy and Girl."
"And in opposing Houses," Draco pointed out. "Since when did a Slytherin and Gryfindor get anything done together? Least of all us." He almost leered.
"Draco Malfoy, if you think I'm going to spend all year sneaking off into closets and dark corners with you--"
"'Mione, I don't want to love like that. I have morals, you know."
"No!" She leaned back against his chest. "And here I thought you were an unscrupulous Slytherin, and a Malfoy to boot."
He stroked her hair. "I don't want to be a Slytherin any more. Or a Malfoy."
"Do you have a middle name?"
"Several. Draconis Voldemort Lucien Xavier Narcissus de Malfoy, at your service."
"What were your parents thinking?" Hermione seized the hand not entwined in her hair and began to rub it.
"Oh, I imagine it was something along the lines of: 'Let's honor the Dark Lord and all of the family ancestors in a way that's French and embarrassing.'"
Hermione ran through the list to find one that wasn't too familial or evil. "Draco Xavier."
"Draco X. That suits. Now, back to the task at hand."
Hermione sat up. "One of us could transfer. You said I'd make a wonderful Slytherin."
"If you'll recall the circumstances under which I said it, and what you'd just said to me, you won't want to transfer to Slytherin. The girls are even worse than the boys," he added.
"Are you saying I couldn't do it?" Hermione challenged.
"No, I'm saying I don't want you to do it." Draco watched the play of conflicting emotions across her face.
"Well, I suppose I wouldn't want you in a dorm with Harry and Ron. They're terribly untidy."
"Agreed. So we both switch to a different House."
"But the Sorting Hat. How can you be sure it'll put us both in--"
"Ravenclaw," they both said together, remembering that first real conversation, back last December.
"If it was there then, it's there now. Maybe more." It was all Hermione was willing to say. "But how do we convince Dumbledore?"
"Think like a Slytherin, 'Mione! What's the final authority on who goes in which House?"
"The Sorting Hat. . . ."
They began to scheme.