Chapter 39: Friendships Tested

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, as I'm sure you'll be amazed to hear, belongs to JKRowling. To clear up any confusion, I'm not JKR.

Thanks for 1617 reviews goes to: SilverMoonset,Jaid Ziaen,Alaranth-88, SycoCallie, sara, Tayz, amerie, I-luv-Harry-Potter-Romance, RedWitch1, Keindra, Slytheravengryffinpuff, Night, ShadowSilverWolf, narmolanya, Raiast, Kiyoko, Sickness in Salvation, Zyzychyn, lynzdi, ablakevh, savvyfairy, luckdragon, Evil Scientist (x2), Daisy Miller, PinkTribeChick (x2), soulsaint06 (x2), Crystallized Snow, Munching Munchkin Management, Dixi, KawaiiRyu, Medea Callous, Plaidly Lush, flipflop5, Angel-Wings-Forever, NotreDamegirlie, PhAnToM-ChiK, Nelly (x3), Fuchs-chan, Magellen-chan, chiyoko, Lyannie, Sever13, lilyE78, Ansku, Qmaria, Hidden Relevance, Calixte Ammonian, FerretyGoodness, starr talenyn, Lady Mariel, Best Deception, D/HR SHIPPER, Periannath, Cyhiraeth Elemmiere, wackyone, heavengurl899, Haley, The Twisted Colours Awards, Alice in Wonderland, Pheonix, Fee'-Fairy, MiRoRmInX, Noubliz, tiffangel, Beloved-Stranger, dracosbabigurl, cl0udnin3, Indygodusk, vampireluv, Flexi Lexi.

A/N: I'm really sorry this is late! I'm still ill, but as long as I don't try to walk more than ten steps or do anything for more than half and hour I appear to be alright. Have even been in school, but it's the last week of term and we're doing absolutely nothing other than watching films and eating sweets - and I've not lost my appetite! So I'm okay. As we break up Thursday, I should be able to get a chapter out on Friday, which will be another Fallen as usual.

To answer my own question of last chapter: I was lying in bed one weekend morning, dozing merrily away, when the word 'cyropi' suddenly floated in front of my vision for no apparent reason. 'That's a nice word,' I thought to myself, and took it as my online alias. It's useful because it isn't an actual word in any language existent, so if I search for myself on google I get only things related to me.

Further questions: my favourite colours are: blue because it's my eye colour and I find it calming; silver because for some reason I associate it with stories and dreaming; black because it's rich and deep and beautiful and very symbolic. My bedroom is silver and blue, if you wanted to know. My favourite Harry Potter character is Draco, because his character is so amazingly flexible. One minute you can read/write something where he's oppressed by his father and desperately seeking a way out; the next he could be a vicious, heartless, murdering Death Eater; the next he could be little more than your basic school bully, or a cool, calm Slytherin playing both sides against each other to his own benefit, or even a half-Fallen struggling with emotion. Add to that the complexities of getting him together with the various people we like getting him together with… you see why I like him so much.

Oh, and the audition went… well, I have no idea how it went, really. It was one of those where it was impossible to know if you'd done well or not, so I'm just sitting and hoping. Don't think I got in, but it was really fun anyway! We find out tomorrow, so I'll be sure to inform you.

The shifts of Fortune test the reliability of friends.

Cicero (106 BC - 43 BC), De Amicitia

There was a moment of pure and utter silence.

Draco, carefully positioned around a corner well out of sight, felt his stomach twist nauseously at the silence and wondered if he was coming down with something. He dared to slip his head around the corner for a look at the scene: Hermione was frowning slightly, twisting her hands together and looking worried. Ginny was hovering behind her, her eyes flying between Hermione and the boys.

Potter and Weasley, frozen in time, mainly looked confused. A little surprised. Weasley still had his singing lollipop in his mouth, and it was singing, faint and shrill and completely inappropriate.

'Four and twenty virgins came down from Inverness, and when the ball…'

Weasley removed the lollipop, looking faintly puzzled. 'What? Malfoy?'

Hermione nodded slowly, and glanced towards Ginny for reassurance. 'Yes.'

'The Malfoy?' Ron was persistent. 'Draco Malfoy? The one who got turned into a ferret?'

Hermione nodded. 'And I know you probably don't like it,' she continued, very quickly, 'but remember, Dumbledore let him stay at the Order, so we know he's not dangerous, and he really has…'

'Are you sure he isn't dangerous?' Potter asked, biting his lip for a second and stepping towards her, holding out an arm as if in some attempt to communicate, and then dropping it, unsure of himself. 'I mean, I'm not… I don't mind,' he said, looking as though the words were difficult to say, but Draco felt something rise in his chest at hearing them. 'It's just I don't want you to get hurt.'

'I've been friends with him since summer,' Hermione admitted after a moment. 'And he hasn't done anything dangerous, or suspicious, or… or anything like that, and I've been alone with him loads of times…'

'He could have done anything!' Ron cut in, apparently over the shock and now alarmed. Draco shrank a little further behind his wall.

'Yes, but the point is,' Hermione said, pushing her hair back behind one ear, 'he didn't. And he knew I was going to tell you, and if he was planning anything he would have tried to stop me, but he was okay with it. If a little worried that you'd try to kill him,' she finished, half-smiling as though it was meant to be a half-joke, and her eyes flicked quickly to the place where Draco was hidden.

'We won't kill anyone,' Potter told her, and then shivered a little as a particularly cold breeze blue past. Ginny frowned at him, raised her eyebrow in wordless question, but Potter merely nodded.

'Unless he kills you,' Weasley added, 'because then he's fair game. Not that I think he will, or anything,' he added quickly. Draco shifted uncomfortably, though he didn't know whether it was at the idea of Potter and Weasley trying to kill him or at the idea of himself killing Hermione.

Hermione shook her head firmly. 'He wouldn't,' she said. 'He… He has changed. He's nothing like he used to be, and I… I trust him.' Even in the middle of the nerves and fear, that statement made Draco smile a little.

Potter and Weasley shared a glance. 'Alright, I guess…' Potter said, his mouth twisting slightly. 'Just, if anything does happen, tell us.'

Hermione nodded. 'I will,' she said firmly. A slow smile began to creep up her face, and must the same thing was happening, as a feeling, in Draco's stomach. 'So you… you don't mind? You aren't going to… to get mad?'

'I'm not sure I exactly don't mind…' Weasley began, before Potter cut him off.

'But it's your choice,' he said firmly. 'I guess…' with a glance at Weasley, 'we do mind a bit, but…' He shrugged, hiving Hermione a worried smile. 'Just be careful, okay?'

She nodded vigorously, grinning. 'I will,' she said, and then in a flash of brunette hair hugged first Weasley and then Potter, which left them looking almost as startled as they'd been after she'd told them about Draco. 'Thanks,' she said, beaming, 'I was so worried you'd be angry or something…'

'Nah,' Weasley told her, 'It's okay. We're worried, and I don't think…'

'But it's okay with us,' Potter quickly cut in. 'Come on, let's head off the Three Broomsticks, shall we? It's freezing out here.'

The group headed off, Ginny grinning and chatting merrily with Hermione while the boys – quieter than before and frowning slightly – followed. Weasley started sucking his lollipop again. 'And when the ball was over, there were four and twenty less!'

When they were well out of sight, Draco slipped out from his hiding place and stood in the middle of the street, watching his breath turn to mist in the cold air around him, trying to analyse feelings. Relief, perhaps, a warmish mass like being able to breathe again after almost drowning. The nerves were still there, diminished now to a pins-and-needles prickling at the base of his stomach. Potter and Weasley had acted as though they didn't mind, but it was obvious that they did. Not enough to be violent, or forbid Hermione from seeing him, but enough that they might do something.

It was another thing to be watchful for.

'I don't like it,' was the first thing Ron said to Harry, quite emphatically, when the portrait hole closed behind Hermione. She was on her way to the library, and though she hadn't said it, they knew she was meeting Malfoy. Knew that she must have been, behind their back, for weeks; how many times had she told them she was going to the library since the beginning of term? Some would have been genuine, of course, but others…

That still stung.

'Of course not,' Harry said, shifting into a more comfortable position. His head was on the arm of one of the fat, squashy armchairs that littered the common room, lying on his back with knees bent and pointing at the ceiling, feet resting on the opposite arm. 'He's Malfoy. I don't like it either.'

Ron paused, frowning at the carpet. 'You don't think he's… he's done something to her, do you?' he asked. 'It's the kind of thing…'

'I don't know,' Harry said, attempting to shrug. 'He could have done, but I don't think…' He paused again, frowning. 'He's not done anything to us lately, have you noticed?' he asked. 'He hasn't picked fights with us, or insulted us, or… well, I don't think he's spoken to me at all, really.' For a moment he remembered the fight they'd had back at the Order, ages ago, but he didn't mention it to Ron. Since they'd come back to school, Malfoy had done nothing at all.

'So you think he's changed?' Ron asked bluntly, frowning.

Harry paused before replying. 'I think he might have,' he said. 'He hasn't done anything to us at all. Dumbledore seems to think he's okay, or he wouldn't have let him stay at the Order. And we still don't know why he was at the Order, and he must have had a really good reason for going there…'

'And Hermione seems to like him,' Ron added, frowning thoughtfully. 'And she wouldn't like him if she didn't see something there, something…' He paused. 'Likeable.'

There was a short silence while they considered this prospect, before Ron spoke again. 'You don't think he could be trying to trick us?' he asked.

'Into what?' asked Harry. 'I suppose if he got us to trust him…'

'Or just Hermione to trust him. He could persuade her to, I don't know, go somewhere with him and then take her to some dungeon and hold her hostage. He could turn her over to Voldemort!' Ron concluded, in a moment of utter horrified inspiration.

Harry was more sceptical. 'I don't know. The only reason Voldemort would take Hermione hostage would be…' he took a breath. 'Would be to get at me. And it'd just be easier for him to have Malfoy get me to trust him and then drag me off somewhere. And Voldemort wouldn't have Malfoy do it. He'd choose someone else. Someone I don't really know well, not someone I already hate.'

'I guess,' Ron said, not willing to let go of his theory so easily. 'But Malfoy could still be tricking us, or something. Trying to trap us. Hermione could be in danger.'

'She could be, but then, it could be perfectly innocent,' Harry replied, staring thoughtfully at the fire. 'Malfoy could really have changed, and be nice… well, reasonably nice… and Hermione could have made friends with him.'

Ron stared glumly at a threadbare patch on his sofa. 'Both sound as unlikely as the other, don't they?' he remarked.

'What sounds as unlikely as what?' came a new voice, and both boys looked up to see Ginny, face flushed from hurrying up flights of stairs from the kitchens, one arm full of Butterbeer and the other full of Chocolate Frogs. Ron had declared that one bottle of Butterbeer wasn't enough to cope with the news, and Harry, remembering Professor Lupin and the cure for Dementor exposure, had asked for some chocolate too. Ginny had volunteered to get it.

'Malfoy being nice and Malfoy trying to kidnap Hermione for Voldemort,' Ron explained, taking a bottle from Ginny's arm. Ginny passed one to Harry, and dumped the remaining bottles and chocolate unceremoniously on a nearby table before curling up in the space next to Harry on the sofa. She was frowning.

'He isn't evil,' Ginny said, quite clearly and decisively, looking from Ron to Harry in turn. 'I think… I'm fairly certain he's actually changed.'

'What makes you say that?' Ron asked, reaching for some chocolate.

Ginny paused again before answering. 'I've known for about a week,' she finally admitted. 'Since that DA meeting when she didn't turn up, remember, and I said she'd left a note saying she had to go because of some first year being bullied…'

'You mean…?' asked Harry, guessing what she was going to say. Ginny nodded.

'I saw her with Malfoy,' Ginny said quite simply. 'Just… just talking, but they didn't see me. I confronted Hermione about it later, she said they were friends… I asked her to tell you. I didn't… it wasn't fair for you not to know,' she finished, raising her head high and looking almost defiant, as though she expected them to disagree.

'I think it was better she told us,' Ron mulled. 'Better than finding out accidentally later. It already… I am a bit annoyed with her for not telling us, for going behind our backs. Almost as bad as the fact that it's Malfoy,' he finished thoughtfully.

'She was really worried that you'd be angry with her,' Ginny said firmly, then spread her hands, questioning. 'Wouldn't you have been afraid what the rest of us thought? If it'd been you that was friends with him instead of Hermione?'

Harry nodded, and Ron muttered, 'I'd have been more worried I was going mad,' in the general direction of his Butterbeer.

'But how do we know if he's dangerous or not?' Harry asked. 'Short of pinning him down and forcing Veritaserum down him, I don't see…'

'I think he's really changed,' Ginny said firmly. 'Dumbledore trusted that enough to let him stay at the Order, and I think if Dumbledore can trust him, so can we.'

'Dumbledore can be wrong though,' Harry said firmly. 'Or tricked, or just… misjudge the situation. We can't know whether Malfoy's a danger or not…'

Ron was frowning. 'You really think he's okay?' he asked, and Ginny nodded firmly.

'I've not seen him much. Just with Hermione when she was meant to be at the DA, and a few times she kept meeting him in Hogsmeade.' She ignored the boys' raised eyebrows and continued. 'He didn't act like… like the Malfoy I knew. He acted different, just… just normal. Like anyone else. Not sneering at anyone, not being mean, not calling people a… calling people names.' She shrugged. 'Since we came back to school, he hasn't done anything which suggests he's got some evil plan up his sleeve. And he's not a good enough actor to keep that kind of act up this long.

It was Ron who said, 'You're right,' quite simply, and took a swig of his Butterbeer. 'If you think he's okay, and Hermione thinks so and Dumbledore thinks so, and there isn't any evidence against it…' He shrugged again.

'So we think Hermione's not in any danger?' Harry asked; both Ron and Ginny nodded. 'Okay. But – just in case, you understand – keep an eye on him. On Hermione, too. Just in case something odd happens.' He bit into his chocolate thoughtfully. 'I guess I'm a bit paranoid, but…' He was thinking of Sirius.

Ginny nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. 'Don't worry. We won't let anything happen to her. Promise.'

'Have they said anything else?' was the first thing Draco asked, tensely, as Hermione sat down. He bushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. 'I heard what happened in the street when you told them, but nothing after you left. I couldn't have followed without being seen.'

'They didn't talk about it,' Hermione replied simply. 'And obviously I didn't try bringing the subject up. I was just glad it was over and done with.' She leant back into her chair, closing her eyes for a brief second. 'I'm just hoping all three of them will ignore the whole topic now, and that'll be an end to it.'

Draco shifted in his seat, leaning forwards to rest his head on the table, looking almost over his shoulder back at Hermione. 'Do you think they will?' he asked.

'I guess so,' she replied after a moment's pause. 'I don't think they like it…'

'Well, they wouldn't, would they? They hate me,' Draco interrupted, his tone sharp and almost snappish. He sighed. 'Sorry. It's just… I don't believe for one moment they're simply going to let this be.'

Hermione paused before she spoke, frowning. 'How do you mean? They aren't going to…'

'They might,' Draco replied darkly. 'All I'm saying is that they might, and I ought to be careful. At least keep an eye on them until I know what they're doing.'

Hermione bit her lip, worried for a moment. 'They're not going to do anything,' she said at last, slowly. 'They know…'

'They don't know anything,' Draco said firmly. 'All they know is that I stayed at the Order over summer, where we fought as much as we always have – excepting you – and then we came back to school and suddenly you're telling them that we're… whatever we are,' he finished impatiently. 'Like friends. Would be friends if I had a clue about emotions, anyway.'

Hermione bit her lip. Draco had closed his eyes, frowning lightly, and he looked pale and unearthly in the dim lighting of the library. Almost as if he were glowing, as angels were supposed to.

She leaned forward, resting her head on her arm in a mirror image of Draco, facing him. His eyes opened, and he frowned at her and glanced down, towards the table. He really did seem impossibly pale; she could see every shadow and highlight of his face, now, and the places where the light caught his face seemed almost pure white. Where the shadows clung to him, they traced his skin in elegant shades of pale grey, darkening through medium to charcoal, until at the darkest place – the side of his neck, just where it passed into invisibility, blocked by his arm – it seemed almost the black of a midnight sky.

Like a pencil drawing, almost; everything in shades of grey, beautiful but lifeless, parchment and pencil and not human, though it took a human form.

'Draco?' she asked, almost half afraid that he wasn't real, and he moved his eyes towards her. She took a breath. 'I think… I say we are friends.'

His expression didn't change. 'I haven't a clue what friendship is, Hermione, how can I…'

He fell silent, and after a moment, Hermione spoke. 'When I was five, my cousin was staying with me and we had ice cream after tea,' she began, in a moment of sudden inspiration. 'My mum left us, and he scooped up the biggest spoonful of ice cream he could and acted like he was going to throw it at me. Like a catapult, and I had my favourite dress on,' she said, smiling slightly at the memory. 'I begged him not to, but he did it anyway.' She moved her hands out from under her head to describe the movement; one hand holding the handle of the spoon, the other pulling the bowl back, ready to catapult the ice cream forwards, then mimed flicking the ice cream at her imaginary younger self.

'The next thing I knew,' she finished, 'my cousin had a huge load of ice cream in his hair, freezing cold, and he was wailing as though someone was pulling all his toenails out. Mum never did figure out how he managed to flick ice cream into his own hair…'

'Accidental magic,' Draco replied, shrugging slightly. 'Everyone magical does it.'

'Without knowing how, or understanding it,' Hermione finished, with a small triumphant smile. 'Which doesn't make them any less magical because they don't understand it. I was thinking about it in Hogsmeade,' she explained. 'Because I had to tell Ron and Harry you were my friend, otherwise I'd have had to explain about you being half-Fallen, and then I ended up thinking. I don't understand friendship properly either, you know.'

'You don't?' Draco looked half-amazed at this.

'No. I understand it well enough to recognise it, and tell you a bit about what it feels like and what it means and the bigger chunks it consists of, but…' She shrugged. 'You don't think about them when you've always had them.'

Draco didn't reply to this, instead tilting his head slightly to stare at the table again. 'I think I'd like to be friends,' he said eventually, quietly, and a slow but wide smile began to creep over his face. Hermione found herself smiling back.

'Then we're friends. Officially.'

A/N: The song that Ron's lollipop sings is in fact real: it's an infamous Scottish song called The Ball of Kirriemuir (among other names…). There are numerous versions on the web, all slightly different and all incredibly rude. Seriously, that's the politest verse. It also tells you something about my family that my dad taught it me, or at least the first verse. He's also introduced me to a French Foreign Legion marching song which begins 'Gosh, here is a pudding, here is a pudding, here is a pudding.' But in French. My dad likes the unusual.

On the topic of music: I keep meaning to find Fallen!Draco a theme tune, but being decidedly unmusical and owning all of one CD and a radio, I haven't found one yet. Hence I turn to you, my wonderful reviewers; what song do you think best fits the Draco of Fallen, and why?