Author's note: I love writing about the Malfoy family, my god. They are so fascinating. I don't remember if I've said so before but anything I say about them is usually canon, can be fact-checked and everything, unless I make a note of it at the beginning or the end of a chapter.


The days lenghtened, the nights seemed endless themselves. Draco thought he'd never see the holidays. Everything was different. When he first had to deal with someone knowing his secret, Lupin in that case, he felt like all eyes were on him, as if everyone could see right through his schemes. Now that Pansy knew, he just felt empty and alienated. His only comfort was that she didn't seem to be doing much better. As if time had stopped for them, as if people were moving in slow-motion around them, as if they had lost their sense of purpose. Weeks went by and everyone who knew them noticed that they weren't hanging out anymore, but no one except Pansy's friends asked what it was all about. Draco's… friends, knew better. Pansy's gang? They were more curious. But it was hard for Pansy to face their questions without wanting to cry. They had never been so long apart, and she didn't know if they would ever find each other again.
She wanted to, but everything dictated her to leave him behind. Everything except her own brain. She blamed the weakness of her heart as she tried to push away her feelings, but she found herself dreaming about their argument, crying about their friendship, and lamenting about her decision. Was that it? Was that the struggle was facing when it came to his beliefs? Probably in a very softened way.
Weeks went by, and she did try to approach him more than once, to make him understand that she wanted to talk to him. She knew he knew. She knew he didn't care. He wouldn't let himself care anymore. He'd rather save himself than repair the damages.
And now, there she was, crying again. Alone, away from a group of friends that wouldn't understand, that just wanted to know the latest drama. She was sitting on the steps in front of the huge Entrance to the castle. She had let her friends go to Hogsmeade without her, and once they were gone, she had just found herself unable to do anything or go anywhere. She just sat down, hands in her jacket pockets, and she had started to cry.
When she saw Theodore Nott approach, she had enough time to wipe her cheeks and her runny nose. But she couldn't hide her paleness, the redness of her nose or her eyes.
"Well, well, well, if this isn't Miss Parkinson," Theodore said with a gentle smile as he rubbed his hands together. When he noticed that she had been crying, however, his smile faded away. "Oh. Pansy, what is it?"
He hurried and sat down next to her.
"It's nothing, Theo, just… it's fine. You can go on."
"Come on now, there's no one to see us," he said queitly. She turned to him, stared for a second before her tears started to stream down her cheeks again and she buried her face against his shoulder. Stunned but not about to make too much of a deal out of this, Theo patted her on the back. "Pansy, what's going on?"
"Is that — is that what — what we are — Theo?" She asked in between loud sobs.
"What are you talking about? Hey," he placed his hands on her shoulders and tried to straighten her up. She resisted his first couple of tries before she finally dislodged her face from his shoulder. She sniffed and wiped her cheeks again, her bottom lip quivering with sadness. Theo quickly slid his hand inside his pocket and got out a tissue. She took it, blue her nose and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She managed to stutter her thanks and he cleared her cheeks from the hair stuck to them. "It's alright, it's alright. Just breathe… Breathe, and tell me what's going on. What is that about us?"
She sniffed again, breathing through her mouth as she tried to catch her breath. "We're not friends… We're not anything," she said.
He frowned but smiled too. "Of course we are, or I wouldn't hand out free tissues to you."
She pushed his arm with another loud sob. He laughed and placed his arm around her shoulders to keep her close.
"Of course we are," he repeated. She shook her head.
"That's not friendship…"
"Ooh, did you flirt with me and I missed it?"
"In your dreams, Nott…" she mumbled.
"Not even there I'm afraid," he said and she finally chuckled. She wiped her cheeks one last time, visibly able to finally coold down. "So. Wanna tell me why we aren't friends?"
"What makes you think we're friends to begin with?" She asked hoarsely.
"Well. We've known each other ever since we were kids… Your family comes to my place during the holidays… We laugh, we talk… I mean, to me, it kind of checks all the boxes of basic friendship, but maybe I need to make a few edits? Tell me about that. What have I got wrong?"
"Well, the most important thing," she said. She didn't look at him as she continued, "I don't talk to you in front of other people."
"We both know that's not true," he said.
"It is. I don't say anything when people mock you, I don't really talk to you. We don't… we don't hang out."
"Because you can't…"
It was the deal. The only reason Pansy's parents were still talking to Theodore's mother was because their mothers were best friends in school, and despite Theo's mother changing her views after the First War and the loss of her husband, they still had a bond. But no one knew about these visits. It was all appearances. Theodore was considered a blood-traitor among his pure-blood peers because of his views, and he himself told Pansy to avoid him at school. He seemed to be doing fine like that, but when Blaise Zabini was being incredibly dismissive of him, she would never react. She couldn't.
"How is this fair?" She asked.
"Pansy, what is this about, really?"
It was about her feeling like the biggest hypocrite on the planet. But she only shook her head.
"Is this about Draco?" She shot him a glance. "Believe it or not, Pansy, but people notice when two inseparable people are suddenly… nothing but apart."
She dismissed his words with a vague hand gesture.
"You haven't exchanged a single word in weeks. And you've been acting really weird."
"Have I?"
"I'm sorry but… yeah, kind of." She looked down, absentmindedly playing with one corner of her tissue. "And I say 'kind of' because I don't want to upset you more than you already are."
"Shut up, Nott," Pansy mumbled and he chuckled, his grip tighter around her.
"So. What could have happened there?"
"It's a long story," she simply said, feeling suddenly tired from this outburst of emotions. Besides, she couldn't tell anything about Draco. It wasn't even about her promise of keeping it a secret. She just would never do that to him. "Let's say… let's say that I caught him talking to someone he's not supposed to talk to," she said. It wasn't the exact issue but it was part of the problem. It was part of her problem. She had to distance herself because she couldn't be associated with him. If his secret were to ever come out, she'd get in trouble too. But she wanted to disregard those rules, just like he had. She tried to comfort herself, she was already doing it with Nott, kind of, so why couldn't she with Draco? Why couldn't she accept that he was talking with Granger? Nothing was public and nowadays, she could finally understand why he allowed himself to talk to Hermione… but then again, Theodore wasn't part-human, or Muggle-born. There was the catch.
She closed her eyes firmly as the thoughts mixed once again in her head. It was too confusing, it was too much pressure.
"Draco Malfoy?" You caught Draco Malfoy talking to someone who's not—"
She elbowed him. "Let's not… make this harder. It doesn't matter."
"Alright, alright. I'm listening."
"He's never actually mocked you, right? He's never done anything to you, right? You won't tell anyone about this…"
"Shouldn't have you asked that before telling me?"
"Theo."
"He's never done anything to me because I'm pure and you know that. I can still come in handy, that's why. That's also why he doesn't say anything about us talking either."
"Theo…" she pleaded.
Theodore raised a hand in innocence. "I didn't say I would tell. You know I'm not like that. I'm just saying… The silent treatment isn't an improved treatment."
"D'you think the same about me?"
He shrugged. "I just get it. For the both of you."
"Well. I just feel like the biggest hypocrite, see. I caused a scene because of that, but… I talk to you, I affiliate with you when I shouldn't."
"Again, not in public."
"But how am I any different from him, then? Even if…" She sighed. "Even if what he's been doing is worse… I shouldn't have acted this way…"
"So that's really why you've been fighting?"
"Among other things…" She put her elbow on her thigh and rested her chin on her palm. "But it all comes back to the same thing…"
"The same old 'should you or should you not?' game. Who'll be the biggest traitor? Fifty points if you talk to another traitor, a thousand if you talk to some Muggle-born." Pansy didn't look amused, she was intently staring at the dirst trail leading to the steps they were sitting on. "Your tally's fifty. What's his?"
"None of your business, that's what it is…" she mumbled. Theo smiled and tilted his head against Pansy's.
"There you are," he said warmly. She pushed him away and they both laughed. "Well… isn't this better?" He asked with his usual kind smile. She shrugged again.
"It doesn't change my problem."
"Come on, you've got the solution right there! Talk to him!"
"He doesn't want me to. He's been avoiding me like the plague."
Theodore frowned. "Then you just haven't tried hard enough. Did you even want to? 'Cause the Pansy I know would just force him to listen to her."
"Not this time… I can't force him to do anything… I understand why he's staying away."
"Mh… This really isn't just about who he's been talking to, is it?" She shook her head. "Well… Do you really understand why he's staying away?" This time, she nodded. "You're a hundred percent sure?"
"No," Theo's face seemed to lit up but Pansy continued, "I'm a thousand percent sure."
"Ah," he could only say, dropping the smile. "Well. I'm sorry Pansy but I don't think there's any other way…"
"I know…" She pouted, her chin back on her hand.
"He's not at Hogsmeade," Theodore said and Pansy glanced at him, "I've seen him walking around the grounds earlier. He was near the woods, all alone. You wanna go talk to him now?"
"No," she murmured. She knew why he was there. Besides, she needed to find exact moment it'd feel right to the both of us. "No, I'll just leave him be for now… I'll just let him live a little…"
Theodore didn't understand but he rubbed her back sympathetically. µ

.

Draco was patting the dragonish head of a Thestral, a second one approaching him. He smiled a sad smile. "I should have known, right?"
"I didn't know you liked them too," he heard a voice behind him call out. Startled, he turned around, both the Thestrals taking a few steps back because of these sudden movements.
Draco blinked at the blonde girl who was walking towards them. Luna didn't look at Draco as she approached the creatures, her hand feeling around for something in her bag. She got out a piece of raw meat that she threw towards the Thestrals, her small smile still on her lips.
"You should give them food too, they like it more than being petted," she said calmly. Draco still didn't move.
"You're… Luna Lovegood, right?" He asked with a little frown.
"And you're Draco Malfoy," she said, distractedly caressing the neck of the nearest Thestral.
"Yeah, I am," he said quietly, finally approaching her. He was still staring but quickly looked away when she turned her head in his direction. He focused on the Thestral, feeling her gaze on him.
"You cried."
Taken aback, Draco's grey eyes met Luna's. She wasn't asking.
"So what?" He asked defensively, not even contradicting her.
"Is that why they like you so much?" She asked, her eyes on the creatures again. You seem to attract them."
Draco didn't know how to feel about this remark, given a Thestral's nature and why they were seen only by some people.
"I didn't know they would be so keen to meet creatures like you," Luna then added without so much as a glance in Draco's direction.
"What do you mean?" He asked, taken aback.
"A werewolf."
He was at a loss for words. He stared at the second-year, trying to gather some words, but his thoughts were a blur.
"What?" He just said. She looked curiously at him, only increasing how uneasy he was feeling.
"Aren't you one?"
"What?" He repeated. He looked down at her faint smile and he felt like he was suffocating. Again, he didn't even think about contradicting her. The words just fell out of his mouth, quietly, suffused with worry, "Did Pansy tell you?"
"Pansy? I don't know any Pansy," she said. Draco felt relief surge through his body. She hadn't told. "Is she the reason you cried?"
"None of your business," he said shortly.
"You are a bit rude," Luna said and Draco looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. "But I guess we all have things to deal with."
"Exactly," he said uselessly.
The Thestral Luna was caressing walked away to a nearby tree and Luna approached the one Draco was petting to pat its neck. It only made Draco more uncomfortable.
"What did you witness?" She asked naturally. Pansy might have been right. She was weird. He wouldn't say crazy just yet, but definitely weird. And yet, compelling.
"The man who turned me," he said quietly, the words escaping him again. He did check for her reaction but she only nodded, as if understanding.
"I see… how old were you?"
"Nine."
"Oh, I was the same age," she said, smiling once more. It wasn't a happy smile, but it wasn't a sad one either. Again, it was simply faint, and he felt the way she did. He gave it back to her. A fixed smile, but not cold. "It was my mother."
Draco had to look away, taken aback once again. He wasn't expecting that. He wasn't expecting her to talk openly about it. He cleared his throat, muttering that he was sorry, even though he wasn't.
Luna didn't say anything for a moment, before she opened her bag and looked into it. Draco was expecting her to get another piece of meat ouf of it but instead, she took out a green apple that she handed to Draco. He frowned.
"You can have it," she said.
"Are you trying to tame me or something?" He asked coldly. "I'm not one of them," he said, nodding in the direction of the Thestrals.
"I always take some fruits from the tables… every feasts. And I don't think I saw you in the Great Hall for lunch. I thought maybe you were hungry," she said, visibly not offended. "It's fine if you don't want it."
"Give me that," Draco said, quickly grabbing the apple out of her hand. He bit into it angrily and Luna smiled again. Draco didn't know if she was amused by it, or happy that he took the apple.
They didn't talk at all while Draco ate. She didn't seem about to leave and he thought it was his chance to make a few things clear.
"You can't tell anyone about me," he said, not looking at her.
"Oh, I know. I won't," she said and Draco wondered if she knew about Lupin.
"And I didn't cry because of Pansy. I don't care about her," he lied.
"I still don't know who Pansy is," Luna said, throwing a piece of meat to one of the Thestrals.
"Does it matter?"
"You keep mentioning her."
"But that doesn't mean I care about her," he quickly said.
"No, it doesn't," she said calmly.
"Great. We can agree on that." He knew he wasn't exactly agreeable, but he couldn't help it. When he noticed that she was staring at him, he frowned. "What?"
"You're a bit weird, aren't you?" She said, handing him a piece of meat.

.

Pansy couldn't find the right time. It was never the right time. She was too afraid and the more days passed by, the more strained their bond became, and she felt less and less like she'd have a chance to fix everything.
She couldn't even seem to find Draco anymore, most of the time. Or maybe she did, but she didn't go to look for him there. She didn't want to see him in her company, she didn't want to be jealous, and she didn't want to struggle with her beliefs even more.
At least, Draco reached his goal, which was to avoid everyone. No Crabbe and Goyle, no Pansy, no Luna Lovegood. At first, he thought about going to Moaning Myrtle under the false pretence of keeping his promise, but he hadn't actually promised anything, and he didn't think he could actually find any peace anywhere in her vicinity.
It was April, finally. Pansy and him hadn't talked in so long, they had only spent that much time apart once before, right after he was bitten. He still wasn't used to her absence. After his last transformation, in March, he had been scared to find her waiting for him after his night in the Shack, but when he came back to his common room, he was only faced with his disappointment. So maybe he needed that time apart… because even if he perfectly understood her reaction, he couldn't have reacted any other way than he had that fateful night. But now that he was calm? Now that he had time to think it through? He knew he was at fault too. But he didn't want to go to her, not if she was afraid. And he couldn't because he didn't want to be hurt again. He didn't even know what he wanted anymore.
Apart from one thing. He hadn't had too many chances to speak to Hermione since she had given him her book, and maybe the library was the key to his moment of peace, and to seeing Hermione.
When he stepped in the library and its serene atmosphere, he knew his day would brighten. He walked quietly between the shelves, towards the tables, and there she was, daylight shining on her and their table. There she sat, alone. He didn't even realise that he leaned against the shelf, staring at her for literal minutes. She didn't even notice him, too focused on what she was writing. She only looked up when he sat right in front of her. Surprised at first by his presence, her soft, timid smile appeared when she realised it was him. She greeted him with a small "hi", and they just talked. It was becoming more natural, which was making it even more unnatural to him. But the words were coming easily. They had a lot of similarities, which Draco first saw as an indicator that bad things were bound to happen if their friendship kept growing. And it still was, but he just didn't want to think about it anymore. He didn't want to resist his urges anymore. He wanted to talk to her, to know more about her. He was making his choices, even if there was still a visceral fight happening on the inside. He he had chosent to talk to Hermione Granger, he had chosen to reveal his darkest secret to Pansy, he made a choice by standing his grounds with people like Snape. He probably would have to make so many more choices over the years but it showed that he was finally thinking about what he wanted, and not about what was expected of him.
So, they kept talking that day, they kept discovering each other. Somehow, they circled back to talking about books, namely The Little Prince. Hermione had discovered only recently, through her curiosity with the Hogwarts library and wizard literature, that Antoine de Saint-Exupéry was, in fact, a wizard too.
"Yeah, I know it," Draco started to explain, "I remember that… we were in Paris, I was… probably five, maybe six. When you're a wizard and you know where to go, you can find absolutely incredible stuff there too. We were in a bookstore and I looked at some of the books, until I found it. I think I looked at it because there was a blonde boy on the cover. I skimmed through it and there it was,"— he smiled at the memory —"a snake. I immediately asked my parents to buy it. But it was in French, obviously. I made my father read it to me again, and again, and again," he said, this last information slipping out of his mouth before he could stop it. She raised a brow.
"In French?" Hermione asked.
"Are you deaf?" Draco smirked.
"I didn't know you could speak another language," she said, putting down her quill.
"Another?" Draco asked, sounding almost bewildered for some reason. "It's not the only one… but it's the one I talk best after English, for now." Hermione's eyebrows shot up.
"Are you serious?"
He nodded. "I'll have you know my family comes from France," he said proudly. "Ten centuries ago, Armand Malfoy arrived with the Norman Conquest. He helped William the conqueror tremendously — I guess you know who that is?" Hermione nodded. William the Conqueror was a Muggle after all. If Draco had learned about the history of his world and his family when he was a child, he guessed Hermione must have done the same. But he didn't know how that worked for her, or if she knew everything, given their age at the time. He stared for a second, thinking about asking her about it. He was getting too curious for his liking. "Thus, when he was crowned king, he offered Armand a piece of land in Wiltshire. We've been living there ever since," he concluded. She stopped a smile, her mouth twitching, because of the very french way Draco was pronouncing that name, Armand, as if the language was second nature.
"So the Malfoys have always been well connected…" Hermione commented quietly and it only widened Draco's smirk.
"We came this close to being royals," he said, demonstrating how very close they had been with his fingers.
"Imagine that, you wouldn't just be treated like royalty by some questionable characters, but you'd actually be…"
Draco chuckled quietly. He stopped himself from joking about royal blood courting her, so he wouldn't give himself away even more.
"How come you came so close, though? It's not like marriage would have been possible back then, or now, and they wouldn't have had children."
"Draco frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"King William, how would that have been possible? Did your great, great, great… great-whatever tried to get the throne instead of land?"
Draco genuinely laughed at the question. He clasped his hand on his mouth to cover the sound and held the table with the other as he imagined the scenario. He shook his head, red in the cheeks. Hermione wasn't embarrassed by her train of thoughts, and she almost laughed too, but it was because of Draco's contagious hilarity. She watched as he doubled up on the table, biting her lower lip at his grin. He had closed his eyes and she had all the time in the world to watch him.
"No," he said in-between giggles, waving his finger no. He clasped his hands on the table, took a large gulp of hair and huffed all of it to finally calm down. "No," he repeated, removing his hair from his forehead because of how hot he had become. "I'm talking later. When the first Lucius Malfoy tried to marry Queen Elizabeth the First."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up. She stayed silent for an instant, looking down at her quill, her fingers slowly running along the vane of the feather.
"What is it?" Draco asked, curious about her changing attitude.
"So… your ancestors mingled with Muggles, more than once… And were even willing to marry them."
Draco realised his mistake. He had been so eager to boast about his family history that he didn't think much of it. Yes, they did. Back then, their large estate and their place as one of the wealthiest families in wizarding Britain was partly due to their mostly dodgy business with Muggles. After the creation of the Statute of Secrecy though, which they opposed at first, his family had cut ties with Muggles and decided to keep their history with them under wraps. The pure-blood society was evolving too, and the disdain towards Muggles and Muggle-borns grew from there. It's only at that point that they decided to mingle with the Ministry of Magic mainly. Again, they were as opportunistic as they always had been. Never in the place of people with the most power, and yet receiving most of the benefits of those people's actions. They always knew how to get their way.
"Your family was part of the high-class Muggle Society at some point. So… tell me, what is it about, in the end? Power?"
Draco shrugged.
"So what if it is?"
Hermione didn't comment on it, but she did look disappointed. Draco kept quiet too, feeling like he had said too much. Not only for his family, but for what they were sharing at that moment. There would always be something tainting this… friendship that they had, and Draco knew it. Sometimes, it was just more apparent than others.
"So, is learning French mandatory at home?" She asked to try and get back to a less tense aspect of this conversation.
"There's just something about heritage that sticks to the family," Draco replied with a certain drawl and Hermione rolled her eyes. "My father has always used both languages with me, so I'd learn it easily. For the rest… what do you think I did before coming to Hogwarts?"
"Of course I knew you studied some stuff but… I never actually imagined you doing… anything, to be quite honest."
Draco frowned, visibly amused. "How so?"
"You're Draco Malfoy," Hermione sighed, "all I can imagine you do is pace the room while concocting some sort of idiotic plan to mess with Harry."
"Oh, so I'm an evil genius?" Draco asked, twirling an invisible moustache. Hermione chuckled.
"Do you consider yourself evil?" She asked, genuinely curious about his answer.
"I consider myself a genius, and thus, I won't answer this question. I wouldn't give my hand away."
"What's got into you today?" Hermione asked, trying as hard as she could to repress her grin, her laughter, her everything. She knew her cheeks were probably getting redder by the minute, so she would control what she could try to keep in check. She couldn't give herself away either.
"I'm just in a good mood, is that a problem?"
She shook her head, biting her cheek.
"So, tell me more. What else do you do back home? Or what did you do before Hogwarts?" She continued, eager to know more about him. Again, Draco stared for a few seconds. If she could do it, why couldn't he? He had to bring himself to ask her questions, to show his interest…
"I studied a lot already, before coming here. You can't really practice, obviously, but if you know enough, you can have a good headstart and—" he stopped when he saw how furiously she was nodding and he looked down, refraining a smile. "I learned loads of different stuff. About spells, potions, duels, like I said a lot of our history, um… I learned how to fly," he said, absentmindedly counting on his fingers as if he had a list to go through. But he was still staying evasive, he wasn't talking about the manners he learned, the music or the dancing for events his family would attend. Besides, he wasn't exactly used to people actually being curious about his personal life at home or his childhood, and he was only talking about what he wanted to boast about, to keep the vultures around him impressed.
"And who taught you these things? Besides Professor Snape for the potions…" Draco wasn't smiling but the way he was looking at her struck Hermione. She told herself that it was wishful thinking, because he couldn't look fascinated by her, but the gleam in his eyes was the most peculiar thing she had ever seen coming from him.
"My mother, mainly. Severus taught me many curses too," he said with a wicked little smile and Hermione blinked. Had he just called Snape by his first name? She didn't raise it, he obviously hadn't noticed and she didn't want to stop him. "But, um, my mother was always at home with me, so she taught me a lot of stuff," he said then paused, as if gathering his thoughts. "She's really smart, you know," he added as if he couldn't stop himself from letting her know. Hermione slightly smiled and nodded. No matter who his parents were, whatever their actions were, Draco was obviously proud of being their son. It didn't matter if he knew they were the bad guys or if he truly held the same beliefs as them. She couldn't take his pride away from him, and she wasn't trying to.
"If you say so, I believe you," she said quietly, "I mean… you didn't turn out to be a complete idiot, it must come from somewhere." He simply shrugged, this time. He didn't boast, he didn't try to place himself above others. Draco had never felt so close to a normal kid than at that moment, to Hermione. "What's her name?"
He looked up at her, his gaze quick and piercing. He seemed hesitant, before he let go of his apprehension.
"Narcissa."
The name stood out when it rolled off his tongue in a huffed tone, as if divine, almost god-like, and Hermione remembered that he was braving every interdiction he had ever been taught by getting close to her.
"Like the flower," Hermione said in the same tone, thinking of Harry's mother, Lily. Draco seemed almost disconcerted as he looked around the table.
Unlike the rest of her family, his mother didn't get the name of a constellation or a star. Draco had. He blinked at his book, unwanted thoughts about both sides of his family and his place in the equation surging through his mind once again.
"Beautiful name," Hermione continued. When he met her eyes, he realised that she had noticed his discomfort and he tried to regain his composure.
"Who taught you?" He blurred out, eager to keep any conversation about his mother's side at bay. He was glad to see Hermione's smile getting bigger.
"Mister Wilson, for the most part," she said as if Draco was supposed to know who that was. He frowned and she smiled. "I went to school," she said, increasing the stunned look Draco was giving her. "Muggle school. You don't know about it? I'm not surprised…"
He stared, weighing up his options. "Are you serious, or are you trying to make me look like a fool?" His lack of knowledge about Muggles was an easy target, she could make him believe anything she wanted, how would he be able to question it?
She seemed very amused once again. "Of course I'm serious. Before I received my Hogwarts letter, I was living like any other Muggle, we didn't know about my powers. And, well, Muggles go to school really young. Tehre's also day care centers for babies. When parents work and they don't have anyone to look after you during the day… You go there, you're with other kids, you play games, then you go home."
The grimace on Draco's face translated his incomprehension and Hermione giggled. "That's… unusual," he mumbled. "Freaks…"
"Well, not everyone's well off."
He shrugged again.
"So is that why you love studying so much? 'Cause all your life you've been in school? Are all Muggles the same way?" He was probably being too curious, but he couldn't help it anymore.
"Actually, most Muggles hate school. But I've always loved learning as much as I could," she said, and Draco nodded, all smiles.
"And what do you learn there? Languages? How to play instrument?"
"That's not the main subjects, and I was still a kid so at that age, you don't have many options. Muggles learn their own things, like math. We learn how to read in school for the most part. You learn about history too, but the Muggles one, obviously, and—" she stopped when it finally hit her. "Wait, you also learned how to play instruments?"
Taken aback, Draco became visibly tense.
"It's my turn to ask questions," he quickly said.
"Come on, I've always loved music. What instruments can you play?"
"Just the one," he muttered. He didn't exactly put up much of a fight, Hermione thought, but he did look slightly embarrassed. "My mother taught me piano…"
"Is she the one who taught you how to fly?" She asked, trying to make him more at ease again. Maybe talking about flying would do the trick, he seemed to really enjoy his time on the Quidditch team.
But Draco felt like it was a sensitive subject as well, mentioning his father. It usually didn't bother him, and he had mentioned him already in the conversation, but it suddenly seemed… he slightly shook his head. She got it, and she could perceive how uneasy he was, but she didn't know what to do anymore to try and get him to open up again. She didn't force it and was surprised when he continued by himself. "My father taught me," he said, "and Pansy."
"Oh," Hermione said before she nodded, "I thought you guys knew each other from a long time."
Draco seemed to get back into the conversation, but Hermione also knew that he wasn't hanging out with Pansy anymore, lately, so she didn't know what to expect. She wondered if it was all her fault, but then, Draco didn't seem to be mad at her about it.
"We'd play together often. The grounds are huge and we're mostly hidden. If we fly low enough, we've got no problem training. I've tried to convince her to join the team too but she always rejected the idea. She'd put some of us to shame though."
"Why doesn't she want to?"
Draco shrugged, "I figured it's because there's no other girls on the team but I don't know…" It didn't really matter anymore anyway, did it?
Now, they stayed perfectly quiet for a few moments, but neither of them got back to work. Draco stared at the table, Hermione at his tie, both looking for a way to continue talking, but not daring to ask anything else.
"You're less boring than I thought you'd be," he finally confessed. When she looked up at him, he shrugged and leaned slightly over the table to try and see what she was working on. He wouldn't allow her to meet his eyes or see the expression on his face. It didn't matter, she was really happy with those carefully chosen words. She could barely see his grey eyes behind his white-blond hair, but she detailed his pale, pointy face, his tired features, until he looked up. They both felt it, the heat in their cheeks.
Madam Pince broke the moment. When they noticed she was approaching, they looked away. Draco leaned back on his seat and Hermione focused on her parchment again. She glanced at Draco, her heart beating furiously in her chest when she noticed that he was still staring at her.
"I've never been boring," she said quietly, hoping he wouldn't notice that her voice was strangled with glee. She couldn't wait to talk about this with Ginny. "You just didn't know me."
"Well, I'm starting to."