"Why, Hermione, don't you like spending time with me?"
"No, that's not it at all, it's just that being in one position for so long, and--besides, it's going to be lunch soon, and I don't want to miss Ancient Runes today, we're supposed to be doing--"
"AHA!"
"What? What?"
"You do like spending time with me!"
"Um...yes...so?"
"Nothing. Just proving a point to myself."
"What point?"
"That I can be nice enough that someone would want to spend time with me--you know, 'cause I'm me."
"You're still stuck on this nice thing? Because by now you've proven yourself entirely capable of being nice, though I will admit you seem reluctant to use this power."
"Look, it's like this, Hermione: I've had a long-standing bet with myself that I could never get anyone to like me for who I am."
"How long has this been going on?"
"Oh, ages. Since before I came to Hogwarts."
"And you wanted to find...?"
"Someone who'd like me for who I am."
"And...who are you...?"
"Someone you've been talking to for the past, oh, say, two and a half hours, who you just admitted that you like spending time with."
"I'm not going into how many grammar mistakes you just made."
"But, Hermione, don't you see?!"
"What should I be seeing? Frankly, I'm rather confused by the turn our conversation has taken."
"I owe myself five hundred galleons!"
"F-five h-hundred--excuse me, five hundred galleons?!"
"Oh, it's okay, I can afford it. Besides, I'm the one giving it to myself, so really, all I have to do is write a note to the Gringotts goblins to transfer five hundred galleons from my bank account to...well, okay, my bank account."
"Exactly how much money do you have, Draco?"
"--Of course, they might think that's kind of weird--"
"Because right now, I have approximately--"
"--moving galleons from, you know, the same place to the same place--"
"--fourteen, fifty-seven, carry the one--"
"--maybe I should just start a new bank account, to accept winnings from myself--"
"--twelve galleons to my name, since I already used all of my money to buy for my friends--"
"--though I suppose that's just an excuse for me to splurge on myself, not that I need one, persay--"
"--at least, the ones I've already bought for. Do I need to get a present for you, I wonder? Would you say that you're my friend, now?, I really don't--"
"--I could buy myself some new Quidditch supplies, or--Oh! I could get that chess set I've been fancying--"
"--Draco? What would you like for Christmas?"
"--Would you say that a solid gold chess set is out of the line, Hermione?"
"What?"
"What?"
"Solid gold?"
"Christmas?"
"You first."
"I'm just thinking about where I'll spend the five hundred galleons that I won. Off myself."
"Erm, in that case, I would definitely say that a solid gold chess set is out of the line. In fact, I'd say that a solid gold chess set is out of the line for anyone, except possibly the Queen."
"Right."
"Besides, what would you do with a solid gold chess set? I'd be looking behind me every minute to make sure it's not stolen."
"Okay. What did you ask about?"
"Oh, yes. What do you want for Christmas?"
Hopeful. "Solid gold chess set?"
"Have you been listening to me at all?"
"Sorry. All I heard was 'carry the one.'"
"I said I've only twelve galleons to my name."
"Oh...right...this is awkward..."
"Draco?"
"Yes?"
"H--how many galleons do you have...to your name?"
"Erm...last estimated figure was...eleven million."
"Gagh."
"If you don't think of the estates in France."
"Oog."
"Or the bonds."
"Eek."
"Or my Chocolate Frog card collection, though, frankly, that's only worth about six hundred if you take away the Special Edition Limphur Ink's card."
Faintly. "...I think my frontal lobe just popped."
"Ooh. Sorry. Does it hurt?"
Pause. Laughter.
"Wait. What were you asking again?"
"Hahahaha, Christmas, hahahahahahaha," gasp, gasp, "hahahahahahaha..."
"Oh. Right. For under twelve galleons?"
"Hahahahahahahahaha..."
"Maybe a roll of parchment? Erm. A new quill?"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"
"Hermione, erm, how do I say this?, erm, your laughter's gone a bit, heh-heh, hysterical."
"Ha--ha--ha--" Snort. "Ha, heh-heh-heh...whew..."
"You all right?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Sanity all...intact, and everything?"
"Yes. I think so."
"Great. I know what you can give me for Christmas."
"What, Draco?"
"Something you've made."
"...You know, that just might work."
"Why? What are you thinking of?"
"Ah-ah-ah. Don't want to spoil the surprise, do we?"
"Actually, you know, I did hear something more than 'carry the one.'"
"That was out of nowhere...what did you hear?"
"That you thought of me as a friend."
"...Well?"
"Well what?"
"Well, what do you think? Are we, or aren't we?"
"What?"
"Friends, Draco."
"Oh. That. Erm...how do I say this properly?"
Nervous. "What?"
"...Do you want to be my friend?"
"Oh. Heh. Yes. I mean, of course! For a moment, there, I thought you were going to say something...else..."
"No, I wasn't going to turn you down. Honestly, Hermione."
"Well, there was always the possibility that this was an anomaly. That after this, we'd just...go back to being hateful and--and all that."
"But--what is going to happen to us after this?"
"...I don't know."
"...Well, you said yourself that it, you know, hasn't been so bad...talking to me, and all..."
"...Yes, I did--but, Draco, it's not as if we can just, you know, sit together at meals or anything."
"No, that's true."
"I suppose we could meet in the library. Hey! We could study together!"
"Trust you to think of studying first."
"But we're the top of our class, Draco! Imagine what we could accomplish!"
"...All right, I'm willing to concede that we could be productive--"
"'Productive'?! D'you know--we're advanced enough to make our own magic!"
"...I'm warming to the idea..."
"Oh, this'll be brilliant, we can share all of our favorite books!"
"--I could finally match you in some other subject besides Potions!"
"Yes, and--! Oh, no."
"What? What?"
"Draco. Let's be realistic, here."
"Damn, must we? I was rather enjoying the fact that I might, for once, tie you for marks..." Grin. "What a lovely thought..."
"Oh, but Draco...what are your--your housemates going to say? And...and your father?"
"#&%."
"Yes, precisely."
"...We could either keep it a secret...or we could be massively public and disgusting about it, and everyone will think we're going out."
"But what about your father?"
Offhand. "Oh, he's in jail, who cares?"
"But your mum?"
"Pfft."
"But...the Slytherins?"
"Er, Hermione? I don't know if I ever fully confessed this, but--they're kind of awful. Think of the people in our year: Crabbe, Goyle--Zabini, and," shudder, "Parkinson."
Sigh. "Oh, good, I was hoping you'd say that."
"So we'll be open?"
"Openly what?"
"Friends?"
"Yes, but--Oh, no."
"Urgh, what now?!"
"Harry and Ron."
"Bugger."
"They're not going to be happy about this..."
"Should've known Potter and Weasley would be the ones to screw this up for me..."
"Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Unless they can get to know you, too?"
"Hermione. Think for a moment. It's what you're good at. Those two are just as prejudiced against me as I am against them."
"So? I was prejudiced against you."
"And now?"
"And now...I'm overcoming my prejudices."
Hopeful. "Against Slytherinkind?"
"Against you."
"Oh. So what do you suggest? That we lock myself, Potter, and Weasley into a spare cupboard or something for two and a half hours?"
"No, that would likely result in death. No, we have to try and force them to see that you're not so bad."
"'Not so bad,' thanks ever so much, Hermione."
"But how?"
"Dunno."
Oh, guys...::sniffle::...the end is approaching. ::sob:: I don't know if I'll be able to survive without this fic!
Luckily, however, there is going to be a sequel. :D
For some reason, this chapter fought me like a Peruvian Fighting Frog. Or, you know, something else that fights.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: thank you so much for all the reviews. 'Cause I can tell ya, if I hadn't gotten 'em, I wouldn't have come this far with this fic. ::sobs, hugs all around::
(If you're wondering why I'm being all soppy: I just graduated from high school)
'Till next time!