Draco's Secret

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Harry Potter or BtVS, so please don't press charges. Thank you.
~.Marx.~

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Draco walked through the Hogwarts library, heading towards the general education section. Several students who were studying looked up from their reading and watched as the silent Slytherin headed straight for the muggle studies section, and then looked back down as if he had struck them with a curse, in which he clearly did not. Draco's face was blank and serious as he passed them without so much as a sneer or glare; it seemed he had been researching for an answer no book had, but not one student had the guts to ask him what was bugging him. This was the third time this week he had entered the library with something worth doing; he had been, each time, staying until his next class was about to start. He never checked out anything because it arose suspicion and made proof. It hadn't taken long for anyone to notice the quiet and brooding Slytherin lurking throughout the shelves for certain reading materials, picking up books such as 'The Way of The Muggle' and 'Muggle Life: Book I'. Draco seemed to be searching for something important, otherwise he wouldn't be showing such interest at all; it was unlike him to be concerned with anything so mundane.

Draco walked through the aisle on muggle studies and looked at the books he had already looked through. 'Muggles Through the Ages', 'A Life Without Magic', and, his least favorite, 'Muggles: A History'. There were other books like 'The Way of The Muggle' and 'Muggle Life: Book I' but none came close to what he wanted. The one that came somewhat close to what he desired to know was 'A Life Without Magic', but even that book didn't speak with details of any sort. He was getting nowhere fast, and he wanted an answer right now. He recalled an old wizard saying something like, "You can't learn everything at once." He hated that quote, but remembered it well. A book in front of him took him by surprise, and he let hope in his cause slip, grabbing the book and taking it down from the packed shelf, placing it under his arm as he walked over to his usual sitting perch, which was a very secluded niche on the South wall that had very good lighting; he took a seat against the wall of the large cranny and opened the book, beginning to read intently.

Many noticed that he, Draco Malfoy, didn't seem his usual snide self. Anyone who was right in their mind could have seen that, so gossip was at an all time high. Of course suspicion arose about what his intentions were, or why he chose to hang out at the library in all of his spare time. Pansy Parkinson had stopped trying to ask what was on his mind when he had refused to spare her a single glance in acknowledgement, which steamed her greatly. She merely 'hrmphed' and stormed out of the general area; his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, had left him alone at his particular request, and they did as he told naturally. What scared everyone was his behavior in the hallways of Hogwarts. Everyone had stopped in the hall as they witnessed him walk past the one, Harry Potter, without so much as a glare or snide comment at the wonder-boy's expense. That was where the line was drawn. That was when everyone started taking Draco Malfoy's odd behavior seriously.

As Draco skimmed through the book he cradled in his arms, he noticed a girl walking past him who was searching for something, or maybe someone. She wore the traditional robe that was fastened to the top but was loosened at the top of the uniform; her light brown hair waving behind her and she walked past the niche he was sitting in. He spared her a longer sideways glance before she appeared in front of him, a scrutinizing stare on her features. His eyes went from blank to annoyed blank, which was why many didn't feel like approaching him; it seemed that everyone was bound to have that affect on him now. She was no different. Draco sighed in irritation as his thoughts drifted to other matters than he wished, and closed the book with his finger holding his place. The one who stood before him was none other than Hermione Granger.

Hermione stood there in front of him with her hands on either side of the bookshelves, blocking any means of his escape had he been looking for one. No, he thought. Where would I run to. She stood straight up with her right knee outwards and her left lazily to her left. Her form was threatening, and with that he stood up, staring at her as if proving that he had not lost all of his pride. They exchanged stares as if it were a battle of acceptance; she would be allowed to stay if--and only if--she stared him down. Maybe she wouldn't wait for permission; she was a Gryffindor for a reason. Draco stood tall against her, literally. He was about seven inches taller than her, and it made the scales tip in his favor. But she was confident that he wouldn't scare her off. "What is wrong with you, Malfoy." Alas, they didn't have to wait long. He debated speaking for the first time in several days, but decided to make her choose her questions wisely in case he considered answering. He stayed standing just in case she did come up with something; he knew if he sat down he would be submitting to her a message of defeat. He didn't dare do anything less than breathe. She seemed to figure his silent gestures with perspective, and appeared to search for a phrase, a quote, a mental note she had seen in a book she read once. She seemed to get his meaning, which was the important part.

Did this mean he, Draco Malfoy, would submit valuable information as soon as someone figured out the correct way to approach him? They would have to be pretty wise to find the right wording because he was only giving Her one good chance to find the right question. If she failed to deliver he would merely leave and not mention anything of it. It was a battle of values and wits, involving a half-breed witch with his business. If she told anyone--should he tell her in the first place, mind you--he would not be the only one in the hot seat. Who knows what his father would do to her and her family. All he wanted was answers because of some real appealing ideas his brother planted into his brain. Damn you, William, Draco thought. I wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't sent me that owl. Draco was beginning to lose his patience. He sent her a look that said, 'Are you going to stand there all day or do you have something to say to me?' Sure enough, Hermione seemed to come to a solid conclusion regarding his challenge. She stole a look to see what he was reading, and her eyebrows raised in interest; she looked at him as she had when she had first approached him.

"You've been acting weird because of a bunch of books on muggles, Malfoy. What brought this whole ordeal on?" He didn't seem to scare her off just by standing there afterall, because Hermione was standing tall against his stare like the Gryffindor she was. Draco was somewhat impressed at her reaction but didn't take it into his hands to point it out to her; he wouldn't bring it to her attention even if she threatened him with a curse. She waited patiently for his answer, but was rewarded with silence. "I will start making assumptions, then." She waited for him to speak up, but he didn't even humor her. "Tell me you aren't turning over a new leaf."

"Why should I tell you anything in the first place?"

"Because you've been brooding since you received that owl and disappeared for three hours this weekend and came back different. I have been the only one who could get you to say more than four words since then. You've got everything on the line if you keep this up. Tell me you haven't gone suicidal."

"I haven't gone suicidal. Happy?"

"It doesn't reassure my suspicions."

"And you believe I, Draco Malfoy, am turning over a new leaf? What a fallacy."

"What else is there? Tell me what's going on." Draco didn't answer her. Why should he tell her anything at all? She wouldn't understand. He approached her to leave the small study area and she stood in his way. Annoyance crept along his face and disappeared just as fast, and he took his finger out of the book, making sure she saw it before he tossed the book high into the air; she turned her attention to the large volume and grabbed it before it reached the floor. Draco slipped by her and walked away from her silently and acting as if nothing had every happened, though he knew better. When Gryffindors begin fearing for his well-being he should be upset about something. He dismissed the thought until he could find somewhere more secure, but now that task has become somewhat tougher. He could ignore a Slytherin because he was above them all in the hierarchy of meanness, but Gryffindors were another subject altogether. Not that he was giving them praise or wanted to give them praise.

Draco stopped when he exited the library, thinking as two Hufflepuffs walked past him. They stared at him as if he had grown a second head, in which he did not. He, Draco Malfoy, had been confronted by Hermione Granger, a Gryffindor who lived strictly in a muggle world up until a few years ago. She used to be a muggle, not a mudblood. It gave him a thought, not a pleasant one, but a thought nonetheless. Granger is good at all sorts of spells and enchantments, so why not...Draco smothered the thought with a proverbial pillow and stamped the remains of the idea. Not in this lifetime or anywhere beyond that, so get over it and move on. But still, he was curious...Draco found the feeling in his feet again and started off down the hall, away from the library. He had some more thinking to do.