Draco had returned to school in a foul mood that he was not especially motivated to hide and his friends did not seem keen on analyzing—except for Theo, who guessed right away.
"Aww, you and Grey have a lover's spat, did you?" he teased during lunch the very first day classes had resumed.
"Piss off, Theo," Draco snapped as they walked the length of the Great Hall toward their seats. "What makes you think this has anything to do with Grey?"
"You saw her over the break. Tea at the Selwyn Estate?"
"Who told you that?"
Theo laughed. "My dad. Spoke with Selwyn a few days ago." He elbowed Draco. "Someone seems to think the match is made."
Draco tsked like it was utter nonsense, relieved none of his other friends were within earshot. "My parents had tea. I was dragged along. I barely saw Grey."
"Is that why you're upset? Not enough cuddle time?"
"You think you're funny, do you?"
"Hilarious. So, it's not true then?"
"Is what not true?"
"You're not matched."
"No," he scoffed.
"Huh." Theo shrugged. "Someone had better tell Pansy that. Seems the rumor's already gone around. She was a bit put out—and that's puttin' it lightly, if you know what I mean."
Draco sighed and Theo laughed.
Diffusing Pansy had not been necessary, as it turned out. She acted as though she didn't believe the rumors. Draco wasn't sure if she truly didn't believe them or was putting on airs, but he was certain a small contributor to her confidence was in the fact that, when Draco walked into Divination the next day, he ignored Grey's existence. In part because he was still mad at her, but primarily because he still had no idea what had gone wrong. Things had been perfect between them until his mother had spoken to her… He had asked her three times what she had said to Grey, but she had insisted it was "between us girls" and wouldn't tell him. And yet his mother seemed as thrilled as ever about matching them…
"You should have seen them, Lucius," his mother had gushed to his father when she thought Draco was asleep. "He looked so happy dancing with her."
It only stumped him more. If she was still keen on matching them, whatever she said to Grey had to have been encouraging. So why had Grey expressed guilt? Was it just because she was insufferably nice all the time or had she really come to care for his parents? That will change when they learn the truth, she had said when he told her his parents liked her. Was she afraid of their rejection? Draco honestly hadn't given any thought to how this might affect Grey when it was over. Not that he found himself suddenly concerned about her feelings, but he didn't want to intentionally hurt her. Not anymore, at least. Not when she seemed to actually care about his parents.
But why add in that bit about him acting differently with her at school? He felt like he was missing something.
A week passed without them speaking and Draco knew, much to his frustration, that he was only proving her right: that they were seemingly trapped in a cycle of having an enjoyable time together during breaks and despising each other at school. Not that he expected the situation to ever truly change, but even he was at his limit. It simply wasn't fun anymore.
Draco was still debating how to talk to her while maintaining his pride when she literally walked right up to him at dinner one night. The entire section of the table hushed and all eyes turned on her as she stopped beside him. Why was she here? Why now, of all times? He knew he hadn't been overly accessible lately, but now? With all these witnesses?
Pansy laid a possessive hand on his arm. "Are you lost?" she scoffed. "We're trying to eat here. I'll lose my appetite if I have to look at you too long."
The jab earned her a few chuckles from those nearby. Grey just stood there.
"What do you want?" he sneered.
"May I talk to you?" she asked quietly.
Draco rolled his eyes and turned back to his food. His friends laughed. Grey did not leave. Why wasn't she leaving?
"Draco, can I speak to you, please?" Grey asked again. He feigned annoyance as he swiveled back to face her. He lifted his eyebrows, a signal to speak or go away. "Privately?"
Silence descended for several heartbeats.
Theo leaned forward on the table. "Too bad," he drawled. "Looks like my boy Draco is no longer interested. But don't worry, Amaris, I'm sure Goyle, here, will take you." He smacked the big man's arm. Goyle jerked his shoulder, violently throwing off Theo's hand. "Or not," he said with mock regret and the others laughed again. "Well, I won't marry you," he grinned, "but if you need a good shag, you know where to find me."
The raucous laughter grated against Draco's eardrums. That little prat couldn't help himself, could he? "Shut up," was on the tip of his tongue, but he knew better than to scold his friend when it might be perceived as defending Grey. Draco looked at her again, fully expecting tears, but instead was met with the Pureblood armor she sometimes wore, her face a picture of boredom even as she looked down her nose at everyone present. Theo stopped laughing and the others followed suit.
Grey leaned down between him and Crabbe and placed his mother's book on the table in front of him. "Please return this to your mother," she said in that icy way she had scolded Theo at Christmas, "with my sincerest thanks for lending it to me."
When their eyes met, she may as well have been looking through him. Draco's jaw tightened. And then she turned and walked away. Theo pretended to shiver and a few of the boys chuckled. Pansy feigned amusement, but her hand was squeezing his arm tightly enough to give her away.
Draco stared after Grey for a moment in utter shock. She had never looked at him like that before, not even when she was quite obviously furious with him. He was surprised to find that he hated it. Maybe it was just her reaction to Theo and he was caught in the crossfire, but he couldn't go after her to find out. There were too many eyes on him. It would have to wait.
Draco eyed the book and saw a piece of paper sticking out from the inside cover. A letter. He quickly snatched the book up and hid it in his lap before anyone else could see. Theo grinned at him, his eyebrows bouncing up and down. Draco resisted rolling his eyes, opting to look as indifferent as possible, but he was anxious to find out what Grey had written in her letter to his mother.
He tried to find time after dinner to read it, but Pansy wouldn't let him out of her sight. So, after returning from their prefect duties, Draco muttered an excuse about a headache and headed for his room for some privacy. Theo immediately ambushed him.
"What's up with you and Grey?" he asked at the door.
"Nothing," Draco mumbled, masking his impatience as he loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt like he wanted to change. Theo walked in and closed the door. Draco held his breath so he didn't sigh.
"She was barely on our radar before this year," Theo continued, "and now she's everywhere. Something's up with the two of you."
"I told you, my mother's considering matching us," he said, yanking his sweater over his head.
"What's your mum's obsession with her though? She's out of the blue, Draco."
"We," he slipped his tie from around his neck with a snap, "played together one summer when we were kids."
"Aww, first kiss?" Theo teased. Draco threw his tie at him then proceeded to work at his buttons.
"Nothing like that. We just played together, that's all. Her parents were friends with my parents." His hand stilled over his shirt as he remembered Grey's words at Christmas about being an only child. "It was nice to have someone to play with for once," he muttered before resuming his efforts to change.
Theo crossed his arms over his chest. "So, is that what's going on now?" he asked. "You're just 'playing together'?"
Draco glanced at him, that hint of a smirk on his mouth, and shrugged. "Something like that," he replied.
Theo chuckled. "All right," he conceded and walked out.
Draco locked his door. Forgetting his unbuttoned shirt, he went straight to his mother's book, held it by the spine, and shook. An envelope fluttered out. Draco caught it. It was addressed to Mrs. Malfoy. He instantly opened it, ripped the letter out, and began reading. It was filled with the usual drivel about the book—what a mystery it had been, oh so well-written, couldn't believe when blah blah blah—and how grateful she was to have borrowed it.
As he neared the end, he was beginning to think it had been a pointless skim, when his eyes snagged on his name. He dropped onto his bed and read the final paragraphs.
I wanted to thank you again for your encouragement that day at my uncle's house. I was too young to understand Pureblood society when mom died and, ever since, I have been utterly lost. I can't begin to express what your words meant to me and what a relief it was just knowing that someone else understands.
I know you're right about Draco. Perhaps it was our history, but there were times when I enjoyed our time together so much that I momentarily forgot the reason for our mingling. It may surprise you to learn that we often do not get along, and yet of all the potential matches I've been forced to entertain, his was the only company in which I felt like a person. I know you're right about him. Truly. His wife will be a lucky woman.
I do not know when we will see each other again, but I will look forward to it.
Draco swallowed the lump in his throat, his heart hammering in his chest, and reread those last few paragraphs three times. Before he could give it any thought, he drew his wand and erased the part about him. He didn't know why—embarrassment, guilt, fear. He just knew that no one else could read it. He wasn't even entirely sure what it was about—what any of it was about—only that what had been said had been deeply personal and at least part of it had been about him.
He resealed the envelope, tucked it into the cover, and finished changing. He tried to think of anything else as he crawled into bed, but his heart would not slow down.
Author's Note: It's been really weird publishing a story a chapter at a time. I normally write the whole thing and then post it all at once.
