Months passed and Hermione and Draco, to the naked eye, still appeared to be enemies. When discussing it with Ron and Harry, she never barefacedly lied, instead saying things like, "Oh, he's not that horrible as long as we don't bother each other too much."
Classes got more difficult as Christmas drew closer, and she spent more and more time studying, either with Ron and Harry, helping them with their homework or balancing that with Draco and his problems in arithmancy. Ron's transfiguration marks were slipping, and he seemed to have hit a brick wall with some of the more advanced spells. Hermione spent countless hours in abandoned classrooms and the library with him, turning blackboards into buffalo and desks into daschunds. She noticed that Ron seemed strange around her lately. Sometimes shy and antsy, he'd open his mouth during silent moments of concentration, as if he was going to say something, but then after a pause would blurt something about the weather and then stare at his feet, his ears pink. She wondered if perhaps Harry and he were hiding something from her, although Harry never showed the same odd behavior. She was beginning to worry about him, but when she asked him if he had something he needed to tell her the one day, he turned red and said he had to use the loo.
She'd always had sneaking suspicions lurking somewhere deep in the pit of her stomach, but fearing it was just a schoolgirlish fantasy, tried to shrug it off.
One day in mid-November, came a moment Hermione never thought she'd face. She was sitting at the fire in the dormitory, studying a star chart and warming her feet, when Draco walked in, looking ashen-faced and anxious. Immediately Hermione knew something was very wrong. He sat down on his bed, staring at the palms of his hands, his eyes looked wide and it seemed he may have been crying.
"What is it?" She said, immediately casting aside her schoolwork and crossing the room to him.
He shook his head mutely, and swallowed. Hermione sat down beside him on the bed. She spoke softly, "Is it…about your dad?"
He looked at her with eyes full of fear, and nodded.
Though they'd never discussed it openly, Hermione, and many others in the wizarding community knew that his father was high in the Death Eater ranks. She had dreaded this day coming…Now that Draco was nearing graduation from Hogwarts, his father would expect him to join the ranks…But Hermione knew from conversations with Draco, that he didn't want to be involved, on either side. Joining the ministry or the order's side would be betraying his flesh and blood, but being a Death Eater was just as dangerous if not more, and he felt he had no loyalty owed to Voldemort. He'd told her after school he wanted to move to somewhere far away like India or the United States, just to stay away from the battlefronts of the war until things had died down. Hermione could respect that. She felt she had to fight, but she had family and friends beside her, instead of being torn between two causes.
Finally words came from Draco. "It was like he was hardly even asking." He said slowly, still looking down. "Like he just assumed it…that it was inevitable…or worse…That I had no choice in the matter to begin with." His voice shook as he spoke, and he looked up at Hermione helplessly. "He wants my decision by after Christmas… to let me have time to 'adjust' as he said…But I don't want to adjust Hermione. I don't want to fight…To die. Not for someone who murders…Not for someone who I have no loyalty toward!"
Hermione sat there with him. She didn't know what to say or do. He stared down, stricken…And she realized, she was the only person that he could talk to about this. Crabbe and Goyle were already on the Death Eater bandwagon. And his father certainly wouldn't be an unbiased influence on him either.
"Draco." Hermione said firmly. "No one can force you to do anything."
"You don't know them!" he cried, "It's either I join them or I am a traitor, and I'm finished."
"Then get away Draco. Run away, as soon as you can!"
"But I have to finish school…And by January…I'll have to swear myself over to him. Be branded, like my father…Like all of them. I can't live my life under the shadow of the dark mark…I wont." Draco's voice wavered with emotion and Hermione could see his eyes shining.
She hesitated for a moment, and then reached down slowly and took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently in encouragement.
"Draco…" she said softly, "I have faith in you. I know that you're strong…And you're brave. And if you can't stand up to your father for this…Then you probably never will…Draco…Stand up for what you know you want…and what you know is right…"
Draco sighed deeply, and squeezed her hand back. "You make it sound so simple."
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