Chapter 30

Lord Black did indeed make an entrance into Hogwarts on the morning of November 1, 1994. Hermione watched, rather fascinated when- about thirty minutes into breakfast, and in a move that was almost certainly timed to ensure that he had the biggest audience- the doors to the Great Hall flew open and the man that Hermione had originally met as a dirty, matted dog strode into the room.

His bespoke robes were cinched at the waist and revealed legs clad in what appeared to be actual dragon hide trousers. His shoulder length ebony hair was tied at the base of his neck. His overall appearance was that of a powerful wizard at the height of his life- not to mention his power, as well as a reminder that House Black had once been, and was again becoming, a force to be reckoned with. Because as much as his clothing begged attention, it had nothing on his demeanour. Narcissa would have been proud of the way he commanded the attention of the entire hall, Hermione wondered enviously if she'd ever be able to develop that kind of presence, or if you had to be born to it.

"Albus Dumbledore, I have a bone to pick with you!" He roared pointing an accusing finger towards the front of the hall. "I left my godson, Scion Potter, in your care and you have allowed him to be entered into a dangerous tournament meant only for of-age wizards! He has also been falsely accused of breaking the rules and entering himself, a belief which you have not corrected, besmirching the Houses of both Potter and Black in the process! I know what it is to be falsely accused and I will not stand for it!"

Hermione cut her eyes in Harry's direction, momentarily worried that he would be embarrassed, but he was barely suppressing a grin. She smiled to herself. Of course, he was just happy to have somebody standing up for him. And to anybody who knew Sirius, this was rather hilarious, after all. He despised his title but he was certainly playing it up.

As soon at he was within six feet of the head table a silencing charm descended and she could no longer hear what Sirius or any of the teachers were saying. But it was obvious that Professor Dumbledore was trying to placate him. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, looked ready to strangle somebody.

After a few minutes the spell was canceled and most of the students tried to pretend that they hadn't been avidly watching the action between the Head of an Ancient and Noble House who also happened to be the notorious Sirius Black, and the senior staff. Sirius spun on his heel and took a detour to walk past the Gryffindor table instead of turning and making his way directly out of the hall.

"Kitten," he greeted Hermione with a perfunctory kiss to the top of her head.

"Godson," he continued, clapping Harry on the shoulder, "everything okay here?" He asked, a slight edge to his voice.

Harry just nodded.

Sirius gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Go be young and have fun, I'll find the both of you later!" He called after him as he walked away.

Hermione tried to remain composed as she imagined a thousand and one ways she could make him suffer for using that ridiculous nickname in the middle of the Great Hall. She heard Harry snicker and then he spoke quietly to her, "you know that you're muttering threats against Padfoot under your breath?" She immediately shut her mouth, berating herself for her slip. Harry just laughed louder.

But he was immediately diverted by the sound of Sirius' voice resounding throughout the hall yet again. "Well hello, Cousin."

Hermione looked up quickly to see Sirius and Draco loitering in the doorway, glaring at each other. She had to hide her face again to disguise the fact that she was rolling her eyes at their theatrics, she was well acquainted by now with how dramatic the Black family could be.

"Cousin," Draco returned the greeting with a slight bow, "a pleasure to see you as always," he said with a sneer, making it clear it was anything but.

"What a git," she heard Harry mutter.

She wondered what he would think if he knew that they were just having a bit of fun, playing off of their family's supposed rivalry?

"I suppose you liked that, all the attention is on you again," came a snide voice from down the table and Hermione whipped her head around to see Ron glaring at Harry.

Harry opened his mouth to respond and she grabbed his arm to stop him, throwing Ron a glare of her own in the process. If he had a fight with his 'best' friend in the middle of the Great Hall it would ruin any goodwill Sirius may have dredged up for his cause. There was no reasoning with Ron when he got like this anyway.

"Let's do as Sirius suggested, how about a walk?" She asked him in an overly bright tone.

He let out a frustrated breath but nodded. She took his arm and they made their way out to the Black Lake. "What's Ron's problem?" He suddenly blurted as they approached the shoreline. "He confronted me last night too, he wouldn't believe that I didn't enter myself and then he made some smart remark about how I should get some sleep because I probably had to be up for a photo call or something."

Hermione bit her lip and considered how to handle this. "Well, he's jealous."

"I know that, but why?"

She took a deep breath. "Ron has always been rather desperate for attention and you've always had it. You're famous, wealthy and titled, and now you live with your famous and wealthy and titled godfather. And you know how sensitive he is about his family's financial situation. And now with the tournament…"

"But doesn't he see what it's cost me to have all these things! I'm famous because my parents were murdered! I had to go live with the Dursleys even though I should have been with Sirius all that time. I didn't even know about magic until I was eleven! I would trade places with him in a second! Not to mention, we've been best friends for three years and he won't even believe me when I tell him I didn't enter the tournament?!"

She bit her lip, she wasn't exactly thrilled with Ron at the moment and didn't enjoy making excuses for him on the best of days, but she knew that Harry valued his friendship and she didn't want to be the thing that drove a wedge between them. "Well, he is a fourteen year old boy. He's not as wise as you," she jiggled his arm playfully, "and he didn't realise that this eternal glory stuff was a bunch of baloney and thought you'd really risk your neck for a measly 1000 galleons."

Harry momentarily blanched and Hermione dropped his arm and covered her face with her hands. "Oh Merlin, Harry, you did consider it!"

"Just for a minute!" He defended. "When Fred and George were talking about it, I just thought for a second that it would be nice to be famous for something I actually accomplished. But then I realised how stupid that was."

Hermione immediately relented, dropping her hands and took his arm again. "Actually Harry, it's not a stupid idea, to want to be known for you own accomplishments. But I am glad you came to your senses."

"It doesn't matter in the end, I'm still in the stupid thing," he responded bitterly.

"I'm sure Sirius is trying his best, and either way, now you can at least honestly say that you didn't cheat. Your integrity is important," she insisted.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Hey," he suddenly perked up. "Wanna come for a fly with me?"

She stopped in her tracks and glared at him.

"Oh come on," he stuck out his bottom lip, "I'm having a bad couple of days, I need a distraction and you on a broom sounds like the perfect thing to cheer me up."

"Harry," she warned.

"Please Hermione," he whined. "You're my very best friend and I need your help right now."

"You are laying it on so thick."

He stuck out his lip further and she sagged. "Fine, but you'll go slow Harry Potter," she poked his arm for emphasis, "and you won't make fun of me if I scream."

"You're the best," he grinned.

Sirius found them on the quidditch pitch three hours later. Hermione had long had enough of flying and was sprawled out on a conjured blanket desperately trying to distract herself from the death defying stunts Harry was performing above her with a book.

As soon as Sirius was close enough for her to see his face though, she knew it wasn't good news. She looked up at Harry who was shouting joyfully as he performed a series of loop-de-loops, he hadn't seen Sirius yet, and her heart sank. She watched Sirius plaster a smile on his face and then call for his godson. She blinked back tears, it wasn't the time, Harry needed her to be strong.

Sirius told them that he had arranged for them to have a private lunch, and so they made their way up to the castle, she in silence, he and Harry chatting about quidditch, but the light banter was obviously forced.

They ate a tense meal in a room that Hermione could only assume had been set aside for instances like this where a parent needed to come meet with a child, and when they were finished Sirius sat back in his seat. "I have good news, and I have bad news."

"Bad news first," Harry said immediately.

Sirius sat up and looked at his godson, there was no artifice in his manner. "I'm sorry, son, but you have to compete."

Harry sagged in his chair but just nodded, completely resigned. Hermione glanced at Sirius and saw how that devastated him, and while she had never protested being included in this discussion, she now knew for sure why she had been. Because when it came down to it, Sirius didn't know Harry that well. She was the emotional support. She reached for Harry but only touched him lightly on the arm, not wanting to overwhelm him, just assuring him that she was there.

"But I didn't enter," Harry choked out.

"I know you didn't, and Dumbledore is going to make an announcement over dinner confirming that. I was serious, I won't have your reputation tarnished. But it's more complicated than that."

Harry just looked at him, eyes full of tears as Hermione continued to choke hers back. She wanted to rage at Sirius, scream about the unfairness of it all, insist that he could have done more. But she was still clear headed enough to realise that wouldn't help, she had some idea about the complicated magic at work here with the Goblet. Harry was well and truly stuck, she couldn't rattle his support system before they'd even really begun.

"Why?" He said it so quietly, so hopelessly.

She leaned over and hugged him. The room was silent as he took a few deep breaths and when she sensed that he had himself back under control, she pulled away again.

"The Goblet of Fire is an ancient magical artifact," Sirius explained, "and it has been, for lack of a better word, bamboozled. We know that you didn't voluntarily enter, but the magic of the Goblet believes that you did, and that places you into a binding magical contract. And to try to break it before the terms of the contract are met, well that would risk not just your magic, Harry, but that of all the champions, possibly even all of your lives."

Harry nodded. "Okay, that would be bad. It's not fair to the other champions to risk it."

"Well, this isn't fair to you," Hermione interjected quietly.

"Hermione, the tournament officials won't take any steps to release Harry from the contract and I can't force them to," said Sirius.

"I understand that, but I think we should all acknowledge that this sucks and it's okay for Harry to be angry. No reason for him to bury that."

Sirius nodded at her in recognition.

"Oh, I'm angry alright," said Harry darkly. "Could I have the good news now?"

"We caught the perpetrator and he's being taken to the Ministry now for interrogation."

"Who was it?" Harry asked.

"A man by the name of Barty Crouch Jr."

"Crouch?" Asked Hermione, "as in the Ministry official? The one who's helping run the tournament?!"

"His son," Sirius nodded gravely, "and believe me, they'll be hauling Senior in to answer some questions too."

"But why, and how?"

"He's actually a convicted Death Eater, he was believed to have died in Azkaban."

"Believed to?" Harry asked with a frown.

Sirius sighed. "Yeah, I don't know how they bollocksed that up. Though I'm proof that Azkaban isn't exactly the airtight fortress it was once thought to be."

"How did a convicted Death Eater sneak into Hogwarts, tamper with the Goblet of Fire and then enter Harry's name?"

"He was disguised as Alastor Moody."

"Professor Moody!" Hermione exclaimed, her mind racing. "Oh, polyjuice!" She turned to Harry, "remember how he's always drinking out of that flask? Polyjuice potion will turn you into another person but it only lasts for an hour, he'd have to have been constantly re-dosing himself."

Sirius chuckled. "Merlin, Kitten, that's a N.E.W.T. level potion."

"I came across it in my reading," she shrugged demurely. "He would have needed access to the real Moody's hair though."

"He would, which is why he's been keeping him prisoner in an expanded trunk in his office."

"So we've had a convicted Death Eater teaching us Defense while he was holding a prisoner in the next room," Hermione breathed, "that position really is cursed."

"I don't understand how you knew it was Moody though," said Harry, drawing Hermione out of her theorising.

"I suggested a search of the school," Sirius grinned proudly. "The fake Moody was in the meeting and he started to act strangely. The real Moody is a good friend of Dumbledore's and he spotted the odd behavior and stunned him, it was only a matter of minutes before he turned back into himself."

"You'd think Dumbledore would have noticed something before now," grumbled Hermione, "he's been here for months, using unforgivables in his classes."

Sirius' eyebrows rose sharply. "Okay, we will be talking about that last part later."

"So, he wants me dead and he was using the tournament to do it?" Harry asked glumly.

"I don't think so," Hermione responded immediately.

"What?"

"Think about it Harry, he had plenty of opportunity to hurt you if he was just a Death Eater with a vendetta. There must be a bigger plan at work here."

She immediately felt guilty when she saw his face fall. Sirius just nodded.

"That was our thought too, but we'll have to wait for him to be interrogated before we know for sure."

"So what happens next?" Harry asked.

Hermione had a million more questions but she shut her mouth, it was clear her friend didn't want to dwell on the subject of a man who had snuck into their school, apparently with the express purpose of doing him harm. She could always ask Sirius later.

"Well, the way I see it we have a couple of options."

"I'm listening."

"You're entered into the tournament under a nameless, fictitious fourth school, which means you are under no obligation under tournament rules to remain a Hogwarts student. So, I could take you home and we could hire tutors for your schooling and, more specifically, to prepare you for the tasks. When the tournament is over you could return to Hogwarts, transfer to another school, or continue with homeschooling."

"Or?"

"Or you remain here, take most of your regular classes, but we bring in extra tutors to prepare you for the tasks." Harry looked torn and Sirius must have seen it too because he continued. "It's completely up to you, we can make either option work, and please don't think that I'll feel slighted if you want to stay here with your friends. That certainly would have been my choice in your place."

Harry nodded. "I think that's what I want. I don't think I want to be homeschooled for four years, and if I transfer I'd have to start all over. If I leave for just this year I don't think things will ever be normal at Hogwarts again."

Hermione didn't think things had ever been normal at Hogwarts, or that they would return to what Harry considered normal after this was over, but she kept her own counsel. She wasn't surprised that Harry was reluctant to leave Hogwarts, and in many ways she couldn't blame him. She also believed that if Sirius thought it was absolutely necessary for him to do so, that he wouldn't have given him a choice in the first place.

"I understand, that's what we'll do then. There's not a better tutor I could find for you than most of the people who teach the core subjects in this school anyway, McGonagall and Flitwick specifically," Sirius reassured him.

Harry fidgeted.

"What is it, Pup?"

"It's just, having teachers brought in especially for me is only going to draw more attention to me."

"I know," Sirius sighed. "But there's really nothing to be done for it, this tournament is dangerous, you need extra training. We will keep it as quiet as possible." He shifted his gaze to Hermione and looked at her significantly and the knut dropped. She couldn't fix this for Harry, but she could make him feel less alone in it.

"Maybe I could join you in these lessons, Harry?"

He perked up immediately. "Really?" He looked at Sirius questioningly.

"I don't see why not, Hermione's already my ward so it wouldn't be inappropriate and the Headmaster can't object. Considering that you're going to need to learn how to fight it should be helpful to have another student at your level in the lessons with you."

"I couldn't ask you to do that and take you away from your school work though, Hermione," Harry objected, but he looked so hopeful that even if she hadn't wanted to do it, she wouldn't have taken her offer back.

"You didn't ask, Harry, I volunteered," she reminded him, "and when have I ever said no to extra tuition? This is a good opportunity for me too." She smiled brightly at him.

He reached over and briefly laid one hand on top of hers. "Thanks," he rasped, standing up. "I need the loo, I'll be back in a minute."

"Should I?" Sirius questioned, motioning to the door where his godson had just exited.

She shook her head. "He needs to be alone for a bit to process."

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy he has a friend like you, Kitten. But I really hate that I have to ask you about things like that."

Hermione could only nod sympathetically. By all rights he should be the person who knew Harry best and not she.

"Thank you for being here, and for volunteering to be tutored with him. He needs all the support he can get."

"I love him too, Sirius," she said solemnly.

He gave a sharp nod. "Would you make sure he keeps up with his occlumency exercises? He's going to need the ability to compartmentalize his thoughts and emotions now more than ever."

She thought that was quite an ironic statement coming from Sirius, but given that he was right, she didn't comment. "He's actually pretty good about doing them, especially if Ron isn't around to grouse about it." Sirius had begun teaching Harry about the basics of occlumency over the summer and once he understood that there were people out there who could actually read his mind if he didn't learn to shield it, he had been very anxious to learn how to do so and even once he'd returned to Hogwarts he worked on it consistently.

"Speaking of, I noticed your redheaded friend wasn't sitting with you at breakfast, nor was he on the mirror last night."

"He doesn't believe Harry," she explained simply.

"Well that's just what he needs right now, a fairweather friend, " he sighed.

Hermione didn't comment, she didn't have the energy to expend on Ronald Weasley at the moment.

It was quiet for a few minutes.

"You know," she began, changing the subject, "Harry didn't notice because he's trying not to think about it too hard, but there's a glaring hole in your story."

He just arched an eyebrow in response.

"The polyjuiced Moody had been impersonating one of the Headmaster's friends without raising any suspicion for months. He suddenly starts acting oddly. And the Headmaster stunned him, just like that?"

Sirius grinned and pulled a piece of worn parchment from his breast pocket.

"The map!" She exclaimed, "I'd forgotten about that."

"So had I, but your boyfriend inadvertently reminded me of it when I spoke to him last night. So I went to see Lucius and Narcissa and we sat up all night in his study watching for anything suspicious, or anybody who didn't belong inside Hogwarts."

She nodded.

"We noticed that Bartemius Crouch spent the night in the Defense professor's bedroom, and Alastor Moody spent it in his office, which didn't track for a whole list of reasons I won't go into. And before I entered the Great Hall this morning I checked again, and sure enough the person labeled Bartemius Crouch actually appeared to be Alastor Moody. I had a private audience with the Headmaster before the larger meeting to address Harry's situation and I showed him my proof, though I'll admit I was expecting the father, not the son, but the map doesn't differentiate between people with the same name. I also had to admit I had a hand in making the map, but I just made it sound like I'd had it stashed away all these years, he doesn't know of the Malfoys' involvement."

"That's brilliant, so simple," she breathed. "You're not going to tell Harry about the map?"

"It would be difficult for me to explain to him how I obtained it without admitting that you and Draco stole it from him and then everything that happened after that, including my true association with the Malfoys."

"Which you can't do without violating at least one of the oaths you've made with Lucius and Narcissa," she realised.

He nodded. "I could make something up but," he sighed, "it seems easier to keep it from him than to tell him a bald-faced lie. And then, of course, there's the fact that I'm trying to be a responsible adult and as much as my Marauder's heart rebels at the idea, this map might not be the safest thing for a fourteen year old boy with a propensity for mischief and access to an invisibility cloak to have. The four of us certainly put ourselves at a lot of risk with it, and we didn't have a dark lord after us," he winced as he spoke.

Hermione laughed. "That was actually painful for you to admit, wasn't it?"

He gave an exaggerated grimace. "Anyway, Lucius has deigned to let me hold onto it in order to keep an eye on Harry with," he explained with heavy sarcasm. Then he waggled his eyebrows. "But don't worry, I won't tell him and Cissy how much time you and their son spend in broom cupboards, that would go against the Marauder's Code."

She rolled her eyes but kept mum about the room which she knew for sure didn't appear on the map- apparently the infamous Marauders had never found it- where she and Draco spent almost all of their time together. Instead she changed the subject. "When Harry comes back I'm going to go and let you two spend some time alone together."

"Thanks Kitten."

"No thanks necessary." And they weren't, she needed to get away and find Draco. She needed to feel his arms around her and maybe finally give into the temptation to cry. It was going to be a long school year.

0000000000

Claire followed Draco discreetly through the library and slipped through the door to the turret room just as it was closing behind him. She walked up to him smiling brightly and reached up to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm happy to see you, but when did you get so tall? I'm still getting used to you being taller than me, much less having to stretch to give you a hug. How does Hermione manage?"

He rolled his eyes. "We make do."

She snorted. "I'll bet you do." She looked around pointedly. "With a place like this I'll bet you make do very well." She taunted as she strolled further into the room. "Seriously, this is great. And Hogwarts is lovely, if a little chilly."

"It has its good points," he said with a shrug. "I'm just glad your name didn't come out of that blasted Goblet."

His parents had been less than impressed that Claire had volunteered for the tournament. In fact, given the changing political climate they would have preferred that she stay out of Britain completely, as they assumed that being associated with the name Malfoy would soon see a target painted on her back. They couldn't force her to withdraw her name so they had convinced her not to publically associate with Draco, hence the rather cloak and dagger act through the library. If she had actually been chosen for the tournament they would have gone crazy, so would he, for that matter.

She literally waved him off. "I was never worried about that. Hermione must be worried sick though, have you talked to her?"

"Last night on our mirrors," he nodded, "and yeah, she is. I'm just hoping Sirius can take care of it."

"Well he certainly made sure everybody knew his opinion on the matter," she smirked. "What was that thing between you and him earlier?"

"Just a bit of fun, I talked to him last night too and he said that he would see me today, so I made it a point to make sure that he did."

"You're such a peacock, Draco, just like Uncle Lucius. I don't think either of you can even help yourselves."

"I'm just playing my part," he said innocently, "can't be letting people think I'm too friendly with the family blood traitor."

She snorted. "I can't wait for the day the world finds out you're completely head over heels for a muggleborn witch. I'm going to be there to see it, mark my words." She looked around. "So where is it safe to sit?"

"Safe?"

"Well I don't exactly relish the idea of lounging around in the remains of your dried bodily fluids," she said wryly.

"What?!"

"Oh come on! You have a secret girlfriend and a secret room. Don't tell me all the pair of you get up to in here is a chat."

He knew a whole host of emotions crossed his face before he could school his expression.

Her eyes went wide. "Wow, okay, I was just teasing, what's wrong?" She approached him, took his arm and pulled them down onto the sofa.

"Why does everybody think that!"

"Think what?"

"That I've been skulking around defiling Hermione?"

She just blinked at him for the longest time. "Defile? Merlin, Draco, you're practically engaged and, like I said, you're besotted with her, you would never do anything that could be characterised as defiling her. Anyway, I was kidding. So, do you want to tell me what's going on? Because you looked horrified just now, and I know you can't actually be horrified by the idea of being intimate with Hermione."

He took a deep breath. "It's kind of weird to talk about this with you," he murmured.

"Yeah, it is, but we'll get over it. Tell me what's going on," she demanded.

He opened his mouth and the whole story of what happened the night of the World Cup- most of which she already knew, and of what happened on the morning after- most of which she didn't, came spilling out. When he finally finished talking she just stared at him, her mouth slightly open, and then she began to giggle, which turned into full out guffaws.

"Claire! This is not funny!" He hissed.

She took a few heaving breaths in an effort to calm herself, waving her hands in front of her face to dry the tears streaming down her cheeks, but when she turned to look at him she cracked up again. He sat back, crossed his arms over his chest, and glared at her.

"Oh stop pouting," she shoved him, "I'm sorry, but you have to admit, it's a little bit funny."

"I don't see anything funny about it," he snapped.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Really? You don't see the humor in Narcissa 'serious discussions are not to be had at the table' Malfoy accusing you of sneaking around to have sex with your girlfriend over breakfast?" She took a breath. "'Draco, you mustn't continue to have intercourse with Hermione. Lucius, would you pass the marmalade?'" She said in a disturbingly spot-on imitation of his mother.

"Yeah, well it didn't seem so amusing at the time," he grumbled.

She finally stopped laughing and looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sure it wasn't, and after all that happened at the World Cup I bet it was a pretty terrible morning. Why didn't you tell me about this before?"

"It's not really something I wanted to write in a letter."

"Okay, that makes sense," she nodded. "I knew something was off between you, Aunt, and Uncle but I never would have guessed anything like this." She sighed and reached over to touch his arm. "So, when are you going to forgive them?"

He blanched at the abrupt question. "I have forgiven them, I'm just-"

"Punishing them for not trusting and embarrassing you?" She interjected.

"When you put it like that, it sounds petty. But I think I have a right to be angry," he scoffed.

She nodded in agreement. "You have plenty of reasons to be angry. But that's not what I'm saying. It's been two months, don't you think it's time to cut them some slack?"

"They should have trusted me, that's on them!" He snapped.

She sighed and squeezed his arm. "They do trust you, you have more freedom and they share more things with you than any kid I know. They made a mistake. But I know you Draco, you're holding on to this righteous indignation to hide what's really going on."

"And what's that?" He asked snidely, resisting the urge to pull away from her grasp.

"Your feelings are hurt that Aunt Cissy could believe you would disappoint her like that."

He just looked at her disbelievingly.

"Do you remember when you were six or seven, Uncle Lucius got that new racing broom and you snuck it out for a fly and crashed in the woods? I've never seen either of them so angry or so scared. They didn't even remember to ask me to leave the room before disciplining you."

Draco did remember that, he remembered it perfectly, and he still felt a lick of shame everytime he thought about it. But he just nodded.

"Uncle Lucius yelled at you for what felt like forever, and even though you were just a little kid you stood there and took it. I think you knew that you deserved it. But then, right after he dismissed you, your mother just looked and you and said very quietly, 'Draco, I'm so disappointed in you,' and only then did you start to cry. You were still all red and blotchy at dinner that night."

"I cried all afternoon," he conceded.

"I know you love Uncle Lucius and you want him to be proud of you, but it's the thought of disappointing Aunt Cissy that kills you. You learned how to respect witches from her. And then she went and accused you of being disrespectful to the witch that you love, she believed, if only for a moment, that you were capable of doing that, and you can't get over it. But it's not a reflection on you, Draco, she was scared and she had a bad moment. I know it's hard for you to believe, but she's not perfect."

"I know she's not perfect," he responded automatically.

She just looked at him pityingly. "Okay, not perfect, but it's an awfully high pedestal you have her on. You learned it from Uncle Lucius, I think."

Draco just huffed, but he couldn't dispute her statement, at least not as it pertained to his father. Before he could think of another response she continued.

"You said that she apologised?"

"More than once," he admitted with a sigh. "For making assumptions and not giving us a chance to explain. And also for not explaining to us the nature of the connection she sees between us."

"I don't think she'll be so thoughtless again, I mean, it's really not like her. I don't think she does anything without thinking of every possible consequence, and that includes encouraging you to befriend Hermione."

It was another annoyingly good point, because he could admit, if only to himself, that if his mother had shared with him when he was eleven that she saw a magical connection between him and a muggleborn witch, he very well might have dug his heels in and refused to associate with her. The thought filled him with terror.

"I don't know," she shrugged, "just think about it. I just don't think you're doing yourself any favors by remaining upset. How does Hermione feel about all this?"

"She was upset, mainly embarrassed I think. She wants to wait for marriage."

Claire looked taken aback. "To have sex?"

He nodded uncomfortably.

"Is that a muggle thing I don't know about?"

He chuckled. "That's what I asked. She said it is in some religions, but that's not why, she's not religious. She just doesn't want to have to sneak around. You know how she is, it's the principle of the thing."

"I mean, you should discuss this with her, but why would you have to sneak around?"

"You think Mother and Father are just going to give us permission? After the story I just told you?"

"I think what they didn't like is that they thought you were sneaking around in the first place, and that you're still a little young to be going that far. But I also think it would be hypocritical of them to forbid it."

"What do you mean?"

She looked at him incredulously. "Draco, have you met your parents? There is no way they waited until they were married."

He felt his eyes go wide as his brain automatically traveled to a place to which he never wanted it to return. "This discussion is so over and I'd really appreciate a memory charm right about now." He shuddered.

She just laughed.

After lunch he returned to the room on his own hoping that Hermione would seek him out after she'd spoken with Sirius. And, sure enough, about an hour later she came barreling through the door and basically threw herself at him, curling up on his lap.

"They couldn't get him out of it, huh?" He surmised when she'd finally quit breathing like she'd just run a marathon.

She just shook her head.

"What happened?"

"A Death Eater, and not the reformed kind disguised as Professor Moody," she sniffed. "Can I wait to tell you the whole story later, I can't think about it anymore right now."

"Of course," he responded immediately. He wasn't certain he even wanted to know all the gory details, he already had plenty of fodder for his nightmares.

"I'm afraid for him," she admitted.

Frankly, Draco was afraid for Potter too. But he was mostly afraid for Hermione, because she had, on more than one occasion, compared her relationship with her friend to his relationship with Claire, and she knew very well how much he cared for his cousin. If anything happened to Potter she would be devastated. "I'll do whatever I can to help," he vowed.

She pulled back to look at him and then gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. "Thank you, I love you."

They sat there for awhile just drinking in each other's presence before he decided to change the subject.

"Claire thinks I should forgive my parents...for this summer."

She remained silent and just began playing with the hair at the base of his neck.

"I take it you agree?" He prompted.

She shrugged. "I think you've already forgiven them, but your feelings were badly hurt and that's harder to forget."

He let out a startled laugh. "Merlin, am I that transparent? She basically said the same thing."

"We just know you," she said as she somehow found a way to curl her body even more tightly against him.

"I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have you if it wasn't for Mother," he admitted.

"Yeah," she nuzzled his neck, "we definitely owe her one there."

"I get why she didn't tell us when we were younger- about our connection- but she should have told us before she went jumping to crazy conclusions!" He realised he sounded petulant even as the words left his mouth.

She let out a little laugh in response and tugged playfully at his hair. "Well, I could have done without the jumping to conclusions thing," he felt her smile against his neck as she spoke, "but did we really need her to tell us?" She kissed his jaw. "We already knew, Draco."

"We didn't know that she knew," he groused.

"You're adorable." He could still feel her smiling against his skin.

"I'm not sure I like that term," he rolled his eyes, "but why do you say that?"

"You're so protective of me. You can't stand the thought of our privacy being invaded, not for your sake, but for mine. But I don't need protecting from your parents. I love them, and they love us. So, don't hold onto this for my sake."

He growled and moved onto the next source of his ire.

"Can I hold onto the belief that Hogwarts is a deathtrap and I'd prefer to take you and run far away?"

"Yeah, I feel the same way," she sighed, "but we can't."

"Remind me why?"

"Well," she sighed. "I've just agreed to help Harry prepare for the tournament. Sirius is hiring tutors and I've said that I'll participate in his training." He felt a flicker of jealousy but she took his silence for anger. "What would you have done in my place?" She asked, "he doesn't deserve this!"

"Neither do you," he countered.

"Neither do you," she said in return.

"What do you mean?"

"If we left now we could very well be running forever, away from our families, our society, and your birthright. Could you do that to your parents? To mine? I'm not sure that I'm prepared to. I'm not even sure that we have the resources in place at this point to make it happen. And are we really that desperate yet?"

He felt a weight pressing on his chest at the very idea and tried to concentrate, instead, on how annoyed he was with witches who were making so much sense today. It didn't work.

"Not yet," he conceded. "But don't you ever wish that we could?"

"I feel terrible about it, but yeah, I do."

He gathered her further into his arms. "Is it wrong to want to be happy?"

"No. Not at all." She craned her neck to give him a kiss. "But would we be? We agreed to put each other first, but could we live with ourselves if we just disappeared? We're not at war Draco, not yet at least, and believe me I'm tired of hiding our relationship too, but it seems a little soon to throw in the towel."

Her words settled upon him heavily- as truth. It was one thing to make extreme plans, another to enact them. And he couldn't stop imagining the devastated look on his mother's face if they suddenly disappeared. "You're right, of course."

"I'm just afraid," she said in a rush of breath.

"Me too," he admitted

"Not just about what's to come, but if it comes down to it, how do we decide to leave everything that means anything to us, except for each other?"

The weight on his chest increased, almost unbearably so, sometimes he wished she wasn't so insightful. "I don't know." He breathed her in. "I really don't know Mia. I just know that I love you."

"That's the only thing I don't question."

Author's note: Ah, the teen angst! Though to give Draco and Hermione credit they have a pretty heavy weight on their shoulders. Also, there you go, Harry has to compete but at least they've caught Crouch, how will that change things? This is the longest one yet, Weestarmeggie deserves an extra big round of applause for her beta skill. Thank you, lady! And thanks to you all for reading!