"Are you staying for Christmas?" Hermione asked. They hadn't exchanged a word since she had given him her parchment. Draco stopped writing at once and glanced at her.
Why was she still talking to him? Because he had her notes? What was she trying to do exactly? Did she think being friendly would make him stop bullying Potter?
"Yeah," he said reluctantly, too tired to tell her off. His word was actually followed by his yawn as Hermione observed him, aware that he was annoyed, but unable to say if it was because of her, or because he had to stay for the holidays.
"You don't want to?"
"I'd rather be home than surrounded by you three, if you catch my drift," he said quietly, tears pearling in the corner of his eyes as he yawned again. He put down his quill, rubbed his eyes and sighed. Just saying it out loud was bringing his mood down. Not only was he stuck there for Christmas, but he would turn during the festivities and he was stuck with them for the entire time? His headache was coming back at the thought. He closed his eyes, massaging his temples.
"It's not a drift if you spell it out," he heard Hermione comment under her breath. When he glanced again, he saw that she was looking at him. She tried to act natural. Would he guess that she had tried to see if he could hear her? Probably not. She didn't look away, she couldn't, she was paranoid that he would notice anything giving away that she knew. "We're insufferable, right?" She continued, addressing him this time, "while you're a joy to be around."
Draco wondered if she was using this specific term, insufferable, because of Snape. "He really offended you, didn't he? He was just telling the truth, you know," he smirked.
"I might know a lot of things but I am not insufferable," Hermione said in her matter-of-factly tone. Draco chuckled quietly. So she was thinking about it, still.
"Keep telling yourself that," Draco said, unconvinced. Hermione looked rather unimpressed and she returned her attention to her book. Somehow, Draco was unsatisfied that she had already lost her interest in their conversation. "Come on, you've got to admit, you're proud of making people know you know everything, insufferable or not."
"I wouldn't say that I'm proud. I just think it's nice to know what's ahead of us." She was still not looking at him. "Besides, you know a lot of things too and I don't see anyone telling you anything about that, especially Professor Snape. Not even when you're disturbing his class like you did last week."
Pleasantly surprised that she was keeping in touch with her competition, he fired back, "That's because I don't feel the need to show everyone that I'm the smartest in the room. But... Well, after all, I don't need to make a demonstration out of it, they already know it," he concluded with a little smile.
Hermione glanced and snorted with laughter when she saw his smug expression.
What an idiot, she thought, amused. She wasn't sure if Draco was actually serious. There was something on his face, a spark in his eyes, telling her that he was just being humorous in his own way and that was weird. He was always laughing with his friends, usually because they were making fun of other people, but he was never trying to make Hermione laugh. If even that was what he was doing right now. At least, it was a nice contrast with the expression he had on his face when she had entered the library. While his eyes were still reddish, he looked more lively already. It was odd, imagining Draco crying because of what had happened in class.
Actually, imagining Draco feeling anything other than hatred for his surroundings seemed preposterous. As if he was also a human being. She pursed her lips, wondering if anyone could view him as anything other than a mean-spirited git. Was he acting like that on purpose? Did he want to keep people away?
"I'm looking all right," she said, giving him back his smile to show that she was joking too, even if her words were tainted by truth, "and all I can see is an idiot disrespecting teachers and thinking he owns the place."
"Draco tilted his head, raising a brow. Wasn't she the one calling one of the professors a crazy lunatic? "Like you said, I know a lot of things too. Maybe he had nothing to teach me about —" Crap. He stopped just for an instant, but Hermione caught it.
Anyone else would have thought that he was trying to find the most inappropriate name for the beast, but Hermione knew that it wasn't like that. He had talked too fast, he wouldn't have stopped so abruptly if he hadn't been speaking automatically, if he knew he was about to mention that specific creature.
"— those disgusting things," he said, staring intently at Hermione, scanning her face for her reaction. Hermione hoped he hadn't been able to read the expression that had flashed across her face at his words. To hid it, she had looked away, maybe too fast, her heart racing. Was that what Draco really thought of werewolves? Was that the way he thought of himself? It couldn't be. Not a Malfoy, not even a bitten Malfoy. Couldn't he even say the word? He didn't seem to be feeling too bad about it during Snape's class, especially when he had howled. Or was he trying to hide it by overcompensating? And the way he was looking at her now... was he trying to get a reaction out of her? Was he waiting for her to agree? But she couldn't. His behavior didn't matter, it didn't affect her opinion on the beast, not when she knew Lupin.
"I don't think they are disgusting," she finally said, daring a glance towards the boy. "It's not like they chose to become werewolves, did they?" She didn't want him to get suspicious but she couldn't not know what impact her words could have. He looked so upset that she had the answer to all of her questions.
"Probably because you can't afford to have proper standards," he said sharply. Hermione finally lifted her head and her serious, almost jaded look, surprised Draco, but he didn't show any hint of it.
"We clearly don't have the same standards, then. And I don't need an ancestry, a name or money to know what I'm worth, or what I can afford, myself. If you truly think your standards are better than mine, then we will have to disagree."
Draco stayed silent at first, almost making Hermione uncomfortable by the way he was staring at her. She couldn't possibly decipher what this look meant, she was only aware that he was detailing her face, that he didn't look angry or offended by her words. Was he done acting like a child? Did he finally realise that they could dialogue? She could only hope as she stood by her words.
"Let's disagree, then," he said. He saw her eyebrows rise with surprise. Yes, he was dropping it. He didn't have the energy to fight, and truly, he didn't really want to anyway. This debate was a lost cause, he told himself. Especially since he was convinced that she didn't know about the internal battle he had every day with his thoughts, with the way he had been raised, with what he was.
Hermione didn't try to go further into it either. Her eyes fell on his parchment and his book. He was working on his History of Magic essay.
"You can't finish that," she told him.
"Like you're gonna stop me," he said, taken aback.
Hermione, stunned by his defensiveness, almost laughed at this. "I meant, you skipped today's class," she managed to say, and Draco saw that she was holding back laughter, "but Professor Binns talked about some things that you need to put in your essay," she explained.
Defeated, Draco let out a deep sigh, dropping his quill on the table.
"That's just neat," he grumbled. He crossed his arms on the table and let his head fall on them, trying to push his sick feeling back down his stomach.
"Do you want my notes?" Hermione offered. Draco looked up at her as if he had just witnessed Neville succeed at anything first try. "I mean, I've just finished mine, so I can —"
Maybe she shouldn't have suggested this. Not only because it was Draco, but also because he was probably going to insult her again. Their second nice conversation was probably going to go downhill from there.
"It's fine, I'll just ask a friend," he surprised her.
"Who? Crabbe? Goyle?" Hermione asked, doubting they would be of much help.
"Probably a bit too thick for that, don't you think?" Draco muttered. "No, I'll ask Pansy."
"Ah, Pansy, I see..." Hermione said. Draco frowned, needing to hear whatever she had to say about his best friend, and she smiled, "You mean to say the same Pansy who spent the entire lesson throwing paper balls in Binn's dustbin to see if he'd notice?"
"The one right next to him?"
"The very same."
Draco chuckled, "Yeah, that's Pansy all right."
Hermione, unimpressed, smiled to herself, "Bet you regret missing that class now." Draco shrugged, leaning back on his seat. "Look, I won't tell anyone. I know how much of a disaster it would be for you, and I don't need my friends to know either."
"I've got other friends, you know," Draco lied. While he got along with most of his house, they weren't friends. He never really hung out with any of them. The only people he truly spent time with when he wasn't with Pansy, Crabbe or Goyle, was his Quidditch team during practice.
"I'm sure," Hermione said, finally dropping it. The bell rang and she stood up immediately to put her things back in her bag. Malfoy watched her as she did, weighing up the pros and cons of her offer, but he only made a decision when she walked away.
"Wait, Granger —" he called out, standing up so abruptly he hit the table. He hurried towards Hermione, who had turned around in surprise. "Alright. Fine. I'll take them."
Hermione hid how pleased she was by biting her lip and she opened up her bag again, rummaging through her books to find her notebook. "Not because you're planning on throwing them in the lake or something?"
"Nah... I'm much more imaginative than that, that'd be a waste."
She pursed her lips, handing out her notebook. "There's no reason for anyone to find out," she said, as if to reassure him. Why, though? He met her eyes and for an instant, he felt like she was talking about something else than her notes. "By the way, you shouldn't skip any more classes today."
Draco hesitated once again before he finally seized the notebook. He didn't say anything else, he didn't thank her, he avoided her gaze and he walked away, and so did Hermione.
Draco only looked at the shelves when he was sure she had disappeared behind them. He looked down at the notebook before he shoved his belongings in his bag, knowing that she was right. Binns probably didn't notice his absence but McGonagall would. He kept the notebook in his hands as he hurried to get out, not wanting to draw attention by arriving late in class.
He skimmed through her notes as he walked in corridors, telling himself that he was curious, knowing deep down that he didn't want to look at anyone. He was impressed, even if he would never admit it. How could someone with so many classes and working so much could take such meticulous notes? Unbelievable, she really wanted to be perfect, didn't she?
Paying no attention to his surroundings, Draco ran into a suit of armor that fell on the ground in the loudest commotion. He could only look at the dismantled body, rubbing his forehead and wishing he could disappear. Way to go, he now had everyone's attention. He didn't have to do anything, as the suit of armor started to reassemble in front of him, floating back to its original place. He discovered Professor McGonagall, who was standing a few feet away from the boy, her wand out. Students started to circulate again around them. Draco was gently pushed back by the armor as it stepped down its base to pick up its sword. Then, it placed itself back in its original position.
"What do you thing you're doing?" McGonagall asked.
"Professor," he breathed out in disbelief, "I don't go around knocking them off on purpose."
She swiftly gestured towards the door, her lips thin. "Hurry up now."
Draco quickly walked in the classroom. Some students had watched their Professor leave the class and had been staring at the entrance, waiting anxiously to hear her scold someone. When Draco entered, some students chuckled and quickly whispered in each other's ears. Undoubtedly about Lupin's class, he guessed.
Hermione smiled to herself again when she noticed her notebook in his hands. Draco slumped on his chair next to Pansy, hiding his face in his hands.
"Didn't know if I should keep you a seat," Pansy whispered to him. "Was that you outside?"
The muffled noise he produced made Pansy laugh and she patted his back. He slowly turned his head to look at her. "D'you think McGonagall will change me into an ant if I ask very nicely?"
Pansy held her laugh in and shook her head, "I'm pretty sure she won't."
"Will you ask her for me if you get to squash me right after?"
Again, Pansy shook her head and rubbed his back. "Come on, the day can always pick up."
.
It did, kind of, because to Draco's relief, the day went by way faster than he could have ever hoped. And the next morning, students were going back home. He watched as the boys in his dormitory left one after the other, and he only went up to his common room to see Pansy before she left. He had a black turtleneck jumper on, the donjons reaching incredibly cold temperatures at this time of the year.
"You're not even eating something before you go?"
"I'll grab something at Hogsmeade before the train leaves," she said, hugging Draco.
"Alright... Don't miss me too much or you'll have a horrible Christmas." Pansy's face lit up. It pleased Draco, who hadn't been on his best behavior with her for the last few months, when she didn't deserve his mood. She wasn't even asking for him to apologize about anything.
"Count on me," she said before she pecked his cheek. He heard someone whistle before Marcus Flint, the culprit, gave him a brutal pat on the shoulder blade, throwing Draco off balance.
"We won't see you this year?" Flint asked, still walking towards the exit. Every year, one way or another, their families would cross paths at some events for Christmas.
"Nah, you're gonna have to do without me."
"Aight, better be in shape for training when we come back," he said, pointing at Draco. The boy pointed back at him with a wink and Marcus disappeared out of the common room. Draco slipped his hands in his pockets and Pansy softly grabbed his uninjured forearm. He had removed the splint some time ago now but she was still being careful.
"Write me," she said with a small smile. Draco nodded, his lips curling up.
"'Course. Have a nice Christmas, and say hi to your parents for me."
Pansy finally left Draco behind. He stodd in the center of his common room for a minute, alone. There was only another Slytherin that was staying for the holidays, a fifth year Draco didn't know that much, and who wasn't there at the moment. He looked around him. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad.
That thought was bottled up and pushed in the back of his mind quickly when he entered the Great Hall for breakfast. Snape, who had been talking with McGonagall near the staff table, cut his conversation short as soo as he saw Draco walk in and Malfoy knew what was coming.
They left the Great Hall, crossing paths with Harry and Ron as they did. The Gryffindor boys were getting down the stairs and watched Snape and Draco go back down towards the dungeons.
"Well, I guess that answers your question," Ron told Harry.
"Yeah, well, I don't know if I really want to find out anymore, turns out," Harry sighed as they walked through the large doors. They walked towards Hermione who was already at their table, surrounded by books.
"Let's just stay away from him mate," Ron said, relieved that Malfoy wouldn't be mentioned so often in their conversations anymore.
Harry just had too much on his mind, what with the Dementors, Sirius Black and the first private lesson Lupin was about to give him. Maybe some mysteries should stay just that; mysteries. Or maybe they would find out later. Or maybe Hermoine would finally tell them what she knew. Well, if she and Ron could patch things up. Harry thought Ron had a point about Crookshanks but still, it was no reason to fight so much. They sat with her and Ron acted as if nothing had happened so that the boys could follow their plan.
"Maybe we should finish our homework too, don't you think Ron? Hermione might have a point, if we do everything now, just like her, we'll be free to do whatever for the rest of the holidays," Harry started innocently enough.
"Good idea, Harry!" Ron exclaimed as he grabbed some parchments from his bag. "The most annoying thing to do is History of Magic... so maybe we should start with that!" He continued with a look at Hermione who still hadn't so much as given them a glance. Ron acted as if rummaging through his bag. "Oh, shoot! I think I forgot my notes in the dormitory! Have you got yourse Ha —"
"I'm not giving you mine," Hermione said shortly. The boys exchanged a look before Ron turned back to her.
"Come on now, I'm not mad at you, I promise!"
"Maybe next time you should just listen to Professor Binns," she snapped, more sensitive than she should have been about it, "how are you gonna learn, ever?"
Harry waited to be sure the matter was dropped, dead and buried before he threw all of his nice view on mysteries out the window, "So, we saw Snape and Draco a minute ago."
Hermione didn't look up but she did stop writing.
"I thought you weren't interested anymore," Ron said, annoyed. Harry shrugged. Of course he still wanted to know, he was just sorting out his priorities. And given how interested Hermione was in the matter, he hoped this would make her less belligerent when talking to them. "You know, you've got three weeks to finish all of your work, what about you cut yourself some slack," he continued, talking to Hermione this time. The girl suddenly closed her book and looked at Harry.
"I know, I saw him turn around the moment he arrived."
.
"So," Snape began as he gained his place behind his desk. Draco closed the door and approached. "I heard that you had an interesting lesson with Professor Lupin yesterday. Very interesting indeed."
Draco crossed his arms, suddenly uncomfortable. "And I'd rather not talk about it."
"You don't have to, he already told me exactly what happened."
Draco clenched his teeth, his stomach churning. "You mean what he caused."
Snape sighed and sounded disappointed as he continued, "He was genuinely worried." Draco looked away with a shrug, a shiver going down his spine. He told himself it was the cold and not due to the bile he was pushing down his throat. "He also said that you refused to talk to him about it. Let me remind you that whatever your relationship with him is like, you can always come here if you need someone to confide in."
Surprised, Draco couldn't help but meet his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He knew. Kind of. But hearing Snape actually articulate this possibility was a whole other level of relief, and of weirdness, he had to be honest. Was he feeling guilty for the lesson he had given on werewolves, that he was extending an olive branch? Surely not.
"It was nothing, really," Drao said, still wary at the idea of letting his thoughts out. Snape kept staring until Draco had to look down.
"Are you sure?" Draco nodded, trying hard to stay very stlil and not rush to the door. "Can I see your arm?" Again, the boy nodded.
He pulled up his sleeve as he approached the desk. He didn't look at his arm, he didn't need to add nausea to the pile of feelings that were already menacingly close to falling out of his mind, ultimately sending him into a mental breakdown. He gritted his teeth when he felt Snape's fingers around hsi wrist and watched him out of the corner of his eyes. His godfather was bending over his desk to inspect the injury way too closely. He got a glimpse of his arm and he looked away quickly. The scares were clearly visible, still red because too recent.
"It would look better if Madam Pomfrey had taken care of it," Snape commented, evidently having never heard of tact before.
"I didn't need her. I'm fine."
Snape looked up at him. "Are you, really?" He asked. Draco felt like Snape could see right through his charade and he avoided his gaze again.
"Don't try to read my mind."
"I wouldn't dare," Snape said as the corners of his mouth curled up. He freed Draco's arm.
"There's nothing to see anyway."
He tried to look relaxed, hands in his pockets again as he approached the shelves to examine their content without any actual interest.
"Nothing? Now, Draco, I wouldn't go as far as saying 'nothing'. We both know that is a lie," Snape said as he sat back down. Draco kept facing the vials and the books but he wasn't reading the tiltes or the labels. He was so annoyed by Snape's tone, by his words... He reached for one of the potions, brushing the glass with the tip of his fingers. "Do not touch."
"I'm not," he said, slipping his hand back in his pocket. "Can I go eat something now?" He asked, coming back in front of the desk.
"I still haven't heard what you think of your lesson with Lupin. Why don't we talk about it first?"
"Because I really don't want to?" He said, hopeful that Snape would let him go. But he just got a glance of acknowledgment and he rolled his eyes. "It's not important, really, I don't know what he's trying to do, worrying you about that, and I don't know why you would listen to him."
"Presumably because the whole class got a glimpse of your mo —"
"I don't care," Draco interjected sharply. Snape glared but Draco didn't care. His cheeks had taken a reddish tint. "You've got a problem with Lupin, you take it up to Dumbledore. I can deal." He knew talking to his godfather this way was a mistake, but he just couldn't do it anymore. It was too much for someone his age. Everything. It was just too much.
"You can deal?" Snape repeated, slowly standing up. "You weren't even able to jinx a Boggart. We both know this should never have happened. I don't remember ever seeing you fail at something you were learning."
Draco didn't even feel good at this backhanded compliment. He was getting too paranoid about everything and everyone. He felt like Snape was trying to manipulate him to talk about it. He muttered, "Well, you didn't actually see me f —"
"Enough!" Draco got back in line, eyes on the floor and lips shut tight. "I had Minerva coming to me too, asking me to talk to you about it. She said she was worried. It's not just Lupin, it's not just me, it's everyone who knows about you, especially after what happened in that class. You're lucky your parents don't know, it would be ten times worse."
"Try a hundred," Draco muttered and Snape slammed his hand on the desk, startling Draco who looked up at him. "I couldn't use a spell against my parents, alright?"
"That is the point. It wasn't your parents."
Draco closed his fists in his pockets, his nails digging in his palms. Why was he being scold exactly? Because he wasn't talking, or because he had failed? He felt like it was unfair. What were they expecting of him?
"It felt like it was," he said quietly. "Can you imagine me pointing my wand at either of them? It's the only reason I didn't do anything, it was too weird."
"Am I just supposed to atke your word for it?"
Finally, Draco stood his ground, the candles reflecting in his watery eyes, "Yes. You should."Snape's expression changed but Draco couldn't read it. "Like we've established, I can talk to you if I feel like it. Well, i don't feel like I need to right now. Everything's fine."
Snape didn't look all that convinced. Who would be? He seemed to think about it before he dismissed Draco with his hand.
"I'll see you tonight."
Draco hurried out of the office, and out of the dungeons. He was glad to sit alone at the large Slytherin table. He helped himself with some toast, even if the appetite wasn't there.
When his owl arrived, his mood rose slightly. There were two letters, one from his father and one from his mother. He took his time at the table, eating and then answering the letters, his own starying right next to him for the duration of his breakfast. He gave it something to eat and it waited patiently for him to finish.
Once he was done, he stood up, gave his answers to his owl and watched as it flew away. When he turned to leave his table, he noticed Granger, a few seats down at the table behind his own. He smiled to himself when he heard Weasley ask her for her History of Magic notes and that she refused. He didn't even know that it wasn't the first time that morning. He hadn't even noticed Harry was staring at him, but Ron did. The redhead turned to Draco and frowned.
"What are you looking at?" Ron asked too defensively. Hermione turned too, her eyes meeting Draco's. As soon as they did, he turned his attention to Ron.
"Your nasty smell is ruining my appetite," he said, approaching. He had to walk past them to leave and he seized the opportunity to continue. "Crazy, 'cause you've got enough water for everyone here, you can bathe everyday. But old habits die hard I guess." Satisfied, he left the trio behind him.
"Get bent!" Ron yelled at him, but Draco ignored him. Harry looked at the staff table and gave a worried look at Ron when he noticed that McGonagall was staring.
"Just ignore him," Hermione said quietly.
Ron kept complaining though, and Hermione glanced at the doors to see Malfoy's back one last time before he was out of her gaze's reach. The, she tried to focus again. She tried really hard. She also tried to ignore Ron and Harry, who were mocking Draco next to her, and to shut down the little voice in her head that made him so angry and sad about it. Of course, Draco had started it, he deserved these words, and she couldn't tell why she felt personnaly insulted by them.