She stayed up too late.
Hermione awoke with a jolt when firm pounds echoed off her cabin door.
"Wake up, Granger!"
"I'm up, I'm up!"
The comforter piled on the ground as Hermione flung it off her body, stumbling slightly when her feet tangled in the sheets. She cast a few Self-Cleansing Charms and gathered her hair into a quick low ponytail. It would do.
Not three minutes passed before Hermione was dressed for the day and opened the door.
Draco stepped inside, eyebrow lifted. "What was the last thing I said to you?"
He stretched out a muffin and a banana, both cradled in his hand. No doubt, she had slept through breakfast. She seized the muffin, and Draco placed the banana in the dragonhide pouch attached to the utility belt fastened low around his hips.
"You should have known giving me three books wouldn't end well," she retorted before taking a bite.
"Forgive me for miscalculating your self-control," Draco said, no actual remorse in his tone. "But we're working on a limited timeline if I'm to take advantage of what few hours I have left of you being here."
"And what about my surprise?"
"No need to worry your over-saturated mind. I haven't forgotten." His eyebrow raised once more. "Any theories?"
A short huff flared her nostrils. "I thought you wanted me to focus on the books, not spend my night speculating about something I'd get the answer to in the morning regardless."
Amusement cracked his facade. "Doesn't mean I believed you to listen." He summoned the books and notebook off her nightstand and shrunk them into his pouch. "Eat fast. We've got a special dragon to tend to."
Hermione took a few more bites of the muffin while Draco levitated over the collection of protection gear he had brought with him. After consuming enough to hold her over til lunch, she set the partially-eaten pastry on the table then slipped on the protective chest piece. When she finished pulling the second glove halfway up her biceps, Draco extended his bent elbow.
"Ready?"
She paused. In her morning rush, it hadn't clicked with her that she would need to latch on to Draco in order for him to Apparate them to their destination. Something about letting her touch him— encouraging it —paralysed Hermione. Even if she was wearing gloves.
Her mind transported back to fourth year, when Draco had offered Hermione a 'Potter Stinks' badge—only for him to jeer that he didn't want her to get any of her 'Mudblood slime' on his hand. It was moments later that he and Harry had attempted to hex each other, with Draco missing and hitting Hermione and her teeth instead. The resulting humiliation had brought her to tears—Pansy's sniggering giggles, Snape's dismissive remarks, Draco's accomplished grin—yet it was the cut of those words whose pain had scarred the deepest.
It wasn't often that she let those memories back to the forefront. While several years had passed since they'd last seen each other, his cruel comments' sting had yet to fully fade. And despite being within his near-constant vicinity the past day and a half, those thoughts now amplified to an echoing roar in the neglected chambers of the better-off-forgotten parts of her mind.
Was this what it had felt like for Draco when he'd first seen her? What flashbacks had he been forced to relive that he had so blissfully blocked the past four years? Had compelled him to construct walls of defence and protect himself from the suppressed memories that resparked his synapses?
Colour drained from her face. No wonder he had been such a prat the first night.
He likely wanted those memories gone just as much as she did—if not more so.
"If you're going to be sick, I'd rather you eat."
With a few firm shakes, Hermione snapped herself out of her trance. Cursory concern flashed across Draco's expression, gone a second later. For that brief moment, she almost forgot that he was the same wizard who had tormented her for so many years.
In some ways, maybe he wasn't.
Other things he could never change, no matter how hard he tried.
But at least he appeared to be trying.
Forward. They could only move forward.
Heart seizing, Hermione took hold of his forearm. His left forearm. The one with a wretched mark hidden beneath his long sleeved shirt.
Not a single muscle flinched.
So different from fourth year.
She peered up to meet his cool grey gaze and shoved aside her outworn thoughts, allowing a foreign sense of guarded ease in his presence to wash over her instead.
"Ready when you are."
...
The scaling height of treetops was lost in the clear blue sky. Similar to yesterday morning, Hermione felt herself land somewhere in the higher parts of the mountains. Draco landed beside her and wasted no time before he started trekking through the leaves.
"It's critical you stay behind me," he directed, wand out and in his grip. "When we reach the dragon, you are not to pass the barrier I create. Understood?"
"Afraid I'm not capable of holding my own around a dragon?" Hermione called after him. She darted to keep up with the irritatingly long strides that came with his significant height advantage.
When she reached his side, his scoff filled the crisp early morning air, though hints of mirth remained detectable on its edges. "I merely prefer not to add any unnecessary incident reports to my workload if something goes wrong and she does end up harming you."
"Oh?" Hermione eyed him closely. "So it's a female dragon."
"Ten points to Gryffindor."
"And you think this armour and my innate desire not to get mauled isn't ample to keep me safe?"
He shot her a challenging glare. "And must you fight me on everything?"
"Only if you insist on treating me as incapable."
His gaze slid to her again, right as Draco hastened his steps, but not before she caught his departing remark.
"I know you're not incapable."
Hermione paused—just long enough to let the momentary shock wear off and for a faint smile to creep up in its place—then followed Draco the rest of the way up the mountainside, continually amazed by how he found a new way to surprise her with each fresh hour they spent together.
The terrain turned rockier the farther they went until they reached the mouth of a cave with trees surrounding the outskirts. Alert and standing guard in the cave's opening was a massive dark green dragon with sharp black ridges spanning down its back. Hermione gasped at the sight of the beast. If pushed to actually guess earlier that morning, she would have assumed that Draco was leading her to Nevarth or Urso to assist them with their investigation. That would have made sense. But this… Hermione hadn't been this close to a dragon so impressively large since Gringotts.
Draco held up a hand for her to stop, and Hermione didn't need to be told twice.
"A Norwegian Ridgeback?" Even from thirty feet away, she could easily recognise the species. She blinked at Draco in disbelief. "Charlie said I shouldn't go near anything more dangerous than a Welsh Green."
"And just where exactly is your famous sense of Gryffindor adventure?"
"Adventure that is logical and justified," Hermione swiftly corrected. Her attention fell back to the dragon, coaxed by the bulging, orange eyes staring straight at her. "She's absolutely remarkable, but out of all the dragons here, why show me this one?"
A satisfied glint reflected in his gaze. "I know it's been several years, but are you telling me you don't recognise her?"
Hermione's curious focus shifted to Draco, trying to determine what he was referring to, until the realisation clicked.
"That's Norberta?"
A roar pierced through the morning air, causing the surrounding earth to shake. Draco whipped towards the stirring dragon, her nostrils emitting curls of white puffed smoke.
"You can have your reunion later," he said, firm resolution set in his gaze. "If I don't get her breakfast soon, these trees are as good as ash."
True to her stated intentions, Hermione kept a safe distance as Draco tended to Norberta. He reached into his pouch and withdrew several chunks of wrapped raw red meat. At the sight of the food, Norberta tramped out of the cave, ground quaking under her heavy steps, and Draco flung the first piece of meat into her awaiting mouth. Piece after piece, her sharp, venomous fangs eagerly ripped into her breakfast, long tail thrashing behind her in anticipation for more. At least ten minutes passed before her hunger finally seemed satiated and Norberta let out a final gentle roar as she folded her wings against her body and rested on her stomach.
"That's a good girl," Draco said to her, still maintaining his own distance from the dangerous dragon.
Hermione itched to approach closer, that familiar ache to be in the action starting to take over again, but she resisted the urge for the sake of not pushing things too far with Draco. Instead, she settled for watching with transfixed attentiveness while he cast the same Diagnostics Charm she had heard Charlie use the day prior. The wand movement was the same, a curved flourish to the right with his wrist followed by a single flick down and accompanied with words he was too far away from her to properly make out. Yet as soon as the words left his lips, a thin mist drifted alongside the soft breeze and surrounded Norberta in a blue haze. Charts appeared above Norberta's head, and Draco studied them for only a few moments before he vanished them away, the diagnostic levels all appearing stagnant and presumably normal.
But unlike Charlie, Draco didn't stop there. He returned his wand to its holster and raised both hands out and in front of him. His exposed palms faced the dragon as he bent down on one knee, his face the embodiment of assertive calm. Draco stayed in that position for several seconds, eyes locked squarely on the dragon, until Norberta huffed so strongly that a cloud of dust mushroomed from the ground, seeming to give what appeared to be a permissive nod.
Only then did Draco caution forward, Hermione still witnessing everything from her area of safety, though with no Shielding Charm ever cast. She crossed over to the other side of the clearing in front of the cave so she could better see where Draco went after moving to Norberta's obstructed side.
A keen, marigold gaze also tracked Draco to the spot next to her belly where a clutch of large, midnight black eggs was arranged in a stone nest. Once again, Draco retrieved his wand, and the Diagnostic Charm covered the eggs, revealing seven different charts for seven future dragons.
Hermione could hardly believe her eyes. While it felt like a lifetime had passed since she had witnessed Norberta's birth from within Hagrid's hut, surely it hadn't been that long.
The question was out of her lips as soon as Draco had finished casting an Incendio underneath the eggs and had walked back close enough.
"Norberta's already old enough to have her own eggs?"
Draco removed his gloves and clipped them onto his belt. "Didn't you do your reading? Due to the ancient magic in their bones and bodily systems, dragons mature at a faster rate than other magical creatures, despite also living longer."
Hermione flushed. "Of course I know that," she promptly returned. "I just can't believe she's already ten."
"Face it, Granger," Draco said after a short laugh. "We're getting old."
...
They followed a similar system as Draco tended to other Norwegian Ridgebacks, with Hermione always staying dozens of feet back and Draco casting the same Diagnostic Spell. Of all the dragons they visited, Norberta was the only one with babies on the way. Between his responsibilities, Hermione and Draco discussed what she had learned while reading. In-depth descriptions of the Common Welsh Greens' anatomies, details about the keepers' daily routines and basic protocols to keep the dragons safe, what tools and techniques were best for different procedures. All of it benefitted Hermione's general knowledge, but to both of their disappointment, none of it proved useful for deducing much more about the attacks. It only supported what Hermione already suspected:
"It must be a keeper within the grounds."
The sun was near directly overhead as Hermione yet again reviewed her notebook pages and Draco led them through the woods towards his final dragon for the morning.
"You've said that at least six times already," he mocked from beside her.
Hermione flipped her notebook shut. "And I'll say it six more! It's the conclusion that makes the most sense."
"Based on what we know right now."
"Well you can't expect me to make conclusions based on what we don't know."
"Then clearly we still need more information."
Of course they needed more information! What did he think she had spent all night and all morning trying to do?
They reached the edge of the trees and stopped at a river where another Norwegian Ridgeback—this one named Cuzan—had his head dipped into the flowing waters. This dragon was younger than the others they had tended to so far, with the ridges lining his back protruding only a few inches compared to the foot-long spikes of a fully-grown adult and his length less than double that of Hermione's height. Based on Hermione's knowledge, he had to be at most three years old.
When he lifted his head and caught sight of Draco and Hermione less than fifty feet away, Cuzan let out a soft, premature roar and opened his mouth expectantly. Once again, Hermione watched as Draco threw the chunks of raw meat for the dragon's breakfast, but after an entire morning on the sidelines, Hermione had waited more than long enough.
"Can you teach me how to cast the Diagnostic Charm?"
Draco stalled his feeding to turn back and blink at Hermione, an action that almost proved harmful when Cuzan snapped down to grab the meat still clasped in his grip. He noticed the dragon's motion with barely enough time to fling the meat upward and away before his hand became an unintended part of breakfast.
She expected him to chastise her for interrupting his work, as if she was responsible for his near-accident, but his surprise quickly shifted into something triumphant. He threw one more piece of meat into the distance, causing Cuzan to chase after it, then clipped his gloves back onto his belt and pulled out a pocket watch.
"Two hours and thirty-eight minutes."
Hermione folded her arms against her chest, a bubble of exasperation forming in the cavity underneath. "And just what precisely is that supposed to mean?"
"Two hours and thirty-eight minutes," Draco repeated as he tucked the watch back into his pouch. "That's how long we've been out here. Which means it took you around two hours and thirty-seven minutes longer than I expected before you asked me that question."
She felt her cheeks grow hot. "What happened to the wizard who originally commanded that I stay behind a protective barrier all morning?"
"And what happened to the witch who has never listened to anything I ever said in the first place?"
"She tried to be cooperative!"
"My, my, miracles really do happen."
Hermione humphed. He may not be a spiteful prat anymore, but he was still a prat.
She set her notes on the ground then re-crossed her arms, now more determined than before. "I've been watching you all morning and the spell looks simple enough," Hermione said, pushing her shoulders back and standing straighter so she didn't falter from the satisfaction reflected in his far-too-pleased expression. "And it's not as if I'm asking to work with one of the adult Norwegian Ridgebacks. You know perfectly well—"
"Granger."
"—that adolescents have yet to develop full toxicity in their fangs—"
"Granger."
"—and their tail spikes are only just now starting to come in—"
"Granger."
"—making Cuzan a relatively harmless dragon for me to try this on!"
"Granger!"
The cry of her name rippled through the trees and both Hermione and Cuzan stared at him, though she was the only one who frowned.
"Are you done now?"
When she didn't deign his question with a response, his eyebrow merely lifted, lips quirking.
"I don't recall giving you a book on Norwegian Ridgebacks."
Hermione blew out a sharp exhale. "You think I didn't learn everything I could about young Norwegian Ridgebacks as soon as Hagrid started trying to raise one on his own?"
"Not one beetle-eye of that is surprising," Draco said with an amused snort. He retrieved his wand from its holster. "Now, if you're done rambling, come here."
It took two additional blinks for Hermione to process his intention.
Draco wasn't going to argue with her? Tell her it was too dangerous or that it was a waste of his time?
Anticipation electrified her veins and hastened her movements as Hermione pulled out her own wand, opting not to waste any time questioning his motives. It had been far too long since she had learned a new spell, especially one that intrigued her so much. Even if learning said spell from Draco Malfoy was far from her ideal, it also wasn't the worst thing she could imagine.
She studied Draco's movements closely.
"First, twist your wrist so that your thumb is directed downward, parallel to the ground," he directed, modelling the wandwork while Hermione mimicked the motions by his side. "Then curve your hand 180 degrees as you make a small loop upward and say Notitia Revelio."
Hermione practised the movement three times before uttering the spell.
A thin mist wisped from Hermione's wand tip, a puff of cobalt dust, yet it faded from existence after no more than a few seconds.
"Your loop was too large," Draco said before the final blue sparks had even disappeared. "You need to control your wrist more."
Hermione tried again.
"Still too large."
Again.
"A little smaller."
And again.
"Too small."
A fifth, sixth, seventh try.
"Close." "Almost." "Merlin, Granger, and they call you the Brightest Witch of Our Age?"
Hermione aimed her wand at Draco after that last retort, the blasted wizard looking infinitely more smug than apologetic.
Frustration bloomed inside her. "And just how long exactly did it take you to master this spell?"
"Admitting that our skill levels are equivalent and that I'm the bar you should hold your achievements comparable to?"
Oh, how she wished she could hex that blasted smiled off his blasted stupid face!
He chuckled. "Not as easy as you originally assumed, huh?"
Definitely still a prat.
"I've got it."
"Clearly not."
"I'm fine."
"You're gripping your wand too tightly."
"Maybe if someone would stop talking."
"Or if someone would just loosen her grip."
"I'm fine."
"You're—"
Draco's hand clasped around Hermione's and their movements froze.
He couldn't have touched her for longer than a second. Two at most. But it was enough to make Hermione's heart stall.
Strong, large, warm.
His gloves were still clipped to his belt.
Both their hands had wrapped around her wand's base, his bare palm gripped on top of hers. Even from the brief touch, Hermione could feel the muscle of his hold. The roughness of his work-worn hands. The small jolt that had shot straight through her at the fact that Draco Malfoy was voluntarily touching Hermione Granger.
But only for that second.
Two days ago, she would have assumed he let go so quickly because he was still disgusted at the idea of her skin somehow tainting his. But today…
He took two steps back. Hermione did likewise.
Blocking out the distracting blond hair in her periphery and fixating her concentration on her wrist and (admittedly loosened) grip, Hermione uttered the spell once more.
"Notitia Revelio."
Mist reappeared at the tip of Hermione's wand, this time, coming out in a steady, glittering stream. The blue particles flowed from her wand like the steady river next to them and enveloped Cuzan in the same sheer haze she had witnessed surround so many other dragons that morning. And when the corresponding diagnosis charts appeared over Cuzan's head, pride burst through her.
"Well done, Granger."
She ripped her attention from Cuzan to find Draco staring at her with an impressed expression.
"It took me two full days to do that."
Hermione beamed brighter. Four years later, it was still just as satisfying to beat Draco Malfoy.
It didn't take long for Draco to analyse Cuzan's diagnostic levels. Much like all the other Norwegian Ridgebacks, his results were all normal. When he finished, Draco walked towards Hermione at her resting spot against a nearby tree trunk where she admired the flowing river and skyscraping trees. All the while, her vinewood wand twirled between her hands, still basking in the invigorating aftermath of her successful spell.
She had almost forgotten how good it felt to be successful.
"Not even going to thank me for teaching you?"
He slid down the trunk and settled next to Hermione in the accumulation of autumn leaves.
"Does a 'thank you' have the same value if you have to ask for it?"
Draco let out a laugh. "Depends. Do I also have to ask you to apologise for almost getting my hand bitten off?"
"You should have been paying attention to the dragon, not me."
"I take that as a 'yes' and confirmation that it's not going to happen." He dug into his pouch and retrieved the banana from earlier. "Hungry?"
Lunch was only a half-hour off, but the muffin from earlier no longer appeased Hermione's appetite.
"Thank you."
Draco smirked. "Oh, look. She is capable of gratitude."
Hermione jabbed him with her elbow before starting to peel back the banana. How Charlie tolerated him, she couldn't understand.
Well, maybe she sort of understood.
He pulled an apple out for himself and they sat in silence for a few moments until a curiosity popped into Hermione's mind.
"Let's just say something had happened to you while you were tending to the dragons," Hermione said. "Doesn't that prove that it's dangerous to have all the keepers doing these check-ins alone?"
Draco shrugged. "There are too many dragons for us to partner up and properly care for them as needed," he explained before taking a bite from the apple.
"But what if something happens and you get hurt?"
"Easy." With his spare hand, Draco retrieved a worn silver coin from his front pocket. It was identical to the one Charlie had retrieved before Draco appeared to tell him about Viscer. "Every keeper has one of these coins embedded with an adapted Protean Charm. Not only can you send a message on it, but if you put your thumb on this part"—he pointed to the embossed dragon in the centre—"it will also detect your location so another keeper can Apparate adjacent to you."
He stretched out his hand for Hermione to take the coin into her palm and examine it more closely. She brought it to her eyes to read the Latin inscribed around its edge and turned it over three times before returning it to Draco.
"Let me guess. Your design?"
An assured grin appeared across his lips. "My handiwork that recognisable?"
She huffed a short laugh. "No. I just know how difficult the Protean Charm is and that you're one of the few I've ever known to also master it. Modification would require even more skill."
"Ah, so you recognize my talent."
She rolled her eyes. "You copied the idea from me first."
"Then we'll settle on brilliance recognising mutual brilliance."
He took another bite from his apple before resting his head against the tree, leaving Hermione to stare at him, once again trying to put together all the pieces of who this wizard now was. He looked at peace. Content. So unlike the removed, distant Draco Malfoy she had seen before his disappearance from Hogwarts. And as much as he was still a prat, a small part of Hermione had to admit that she rather liked this matured version of him.
An unusual flutter tingled inside her, soon eclipsed by another surge of pride.
He had even confessed that he thought she was brilliant.