Chapter 14
Draco watched students leaving the castle for the holidays from the window in the room of requirement. Everyone below seemed so cheery to be heading home to their loved ones for the break. Draco envied their joy.
When he saw Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione leave the castle towards the train station, his feelings were bittersweet. He was happy that Hermione would be surrounded by people who loved her for the holidays, but selfishly wished she would be with him instead.
He watched the way she effortlessly swooshed her wand to clear the snow blocking her path and how she pulled her hat tight to her ears whenever the cold wind blew. He wished she would never disappear from his sight, but eventually she had walked too far for him to see and once again loneliness consumed him.
Unable to stare out the window any longer, Draco retreated to the small sofa in the corner of the room and began reading an old book his mother used to read to him as a child. He wasn't entirely sure why he had chosen to read it, but something about it comforted him. Maybe it was because it reminded him of a simpler time.
Reading consumed him for the better part of the afternoon, until he was interrupted by a small knock on the door. The noise startled Draco, making him jump from his chair. When he didn't answer, the knock returned, and dread entered his stomach.
He never asked the room to hide him from the other students. He had assumed that he didn't need the extra protection because everyone was gone for the holidays. Clearly, he was wrong.
When the figure on the other side of the door knocked a third time, Draco worked up the courage to cross the room and place his hand on the door. When the fourth knock came, he told himself to be brave, and he creaked the door open.
At first, Draco thought nobody was there. Perhaps it was Peeves playing some strange prank on him. But then, a high-pitched voice came from below,
"Sorry to bother you Mr. Malfoy." Draco looked down to see a small house elf smiling. "It's just that I was sent to give you this."
The elf handed a red envelope to Draco, nodded, and left the doorway. Draco looked down to see gold writing on the face of the envelope that read,
A formal invitation to Mr. Draco Malfoy
Draco wondered who in their right mind would be inviting him anywhere. When he peeled the envelope open, a green paper slid out. On the paper, it read,
Given how few students remain at the castle this Christmas, I thought it would be a perfect time to host an intimate dinner party. Please join me this evening, in my office, for a night of riveting conversation and delicious food.
Yours truly,
Professor Slughorn
Draco was surprised Slughorn had invited him. Although he never explicitly stated that he did not like Draco, it was clear his family's reputation had ruined any chances Draco had of joining his infamous Slug Club. Draco could only assume it was a pity invite.
If more people remained at the castle, Draco would have skipped the entire event. But given the few numbers that would be joining the dinner party, it would be very obvious (and not to mention rude) if Draco was absent. And so, he was left with no choice but to attend.
Back in his dormitory, Draco fussed with his hair and tugged at his tie. He was incredibly uncomfortable, and not only because of the fancy clothes. He had no idea how he was expected to act this evening. Did Slughorn want him to join in in the conversations? Or was his invitation merely a formality and Slughorn would prefer he didn't attend at all?
Regardless of the reasons for his invitation, Draco felt obligated to go. And so, he made his way out of the Slytherin dormitory towards Professor Slughorn's office. When he arrived, the door was open as staff and students made their way into the room.
"Draco my boy," Slughorn called out. "I'm glad you could make it." Turning to the other adults in the room, he continued, "this boy turned in the most wonderful pain relief potion the other week. I just must show it to Madame Pomfrey," he bragged to Professor Sprout.
"Thank you, sir," Draco nodded.
"Well now, why don't you make your way to the other end of the table. Seems to me that most of the remaining students are heading there."
Draco nodded once more and turned to find his place. At the end of the table were a handful of younger students that Draco had never met before. None of them seemed keen on striking up a conversation with him, which Draco was grateful for.
As they sat waiting for dinner to begin, an empty seat remained beside Draco. It was clear to him that no one wanted to be beside the death eater. Even the Hufflepuff boy two seats down seemed nervous to be that close. Draco wondered who the unfortunate soul running late was, and how they would respond to having to be beside him all night.
Silently, he watched the commotion of the night. Many of the professors were in deep conversations with one another. Near the middle of the table, a young boy was attempting a new charm Professor Flitwick must have taught him in charms that could be used to light candles. And across from Draco, two Ravenclaw students were stuck in their own love bubble and had barely even noticed Draco's presence.
Just as dinner was about to begin, there was a final knock on the door. Slughorn rose from his seat and crossed the room to let the final guest into his office. When the door peered open, there stood Hermione in the most beautiful deep red silk dress Draco had ever seen. Once again, she was absolutely stunning.
As she made her way into the room, she didn't even notice Draco, and yet he could not take his eyes off of her. It wasn't until she was halfway across the table, that their eyes connected. For half a second, Hermione paused in what Draco could only assume to be shock.
Cutting the moment off, Slughorn gestured to the empty chair beside Draco. "Please Miss Granger, take your seat. I'm not sure if you know Erik Celton and Gemma Worthington. They're third-year Ravenclaw students."
The pair popped their love bubble for a moment to smile at Hermione, and then returned their attention to each other.
"And beside them we have Ethan Riesling. His parent are wonderful potion makers. I taught them myself back in the day. They must be down in South America for the holidays gathering herbs I predict."
The boy scared of being in the same room as Draco nodded in agreeance.
"And then of course you know Mr. Malfoy. Wonderful project you two turned in. I was thinking of providing a sample to Madame Pomfrey if you don't mind."
"Not at all," Hermione replied.
'Great," Slughorn beamed. "Well, I'll let you kids mingle."
The moment Hermione took the seat between Draco and Ethan, Ethan's entire mood changed.
"Hi Hermione," he almost yelled in excitement. "I'm Ethan! Well, I guess Professor Slughorn already said that. I'm a first year! I wanted to be in Gryffindor like you, Harry, and Ron, but the sorting hat said I was better suited for Hufflepuff."
"Hi Ethan, it's nice to meet you," Hermione responded. "And you should be proud to be in Hufflepuff. I've known plenty of amazing, loyal wizards from that house."
Hermione was smiling but behind her eyes Draco could see that she was in pain from the thought of those she lost during the war.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. At least it's not Slytherin," Ethan exclaimed.
The moment the words were out of his mouth, his face returned to the panic Draco had seen when he first sat down. His cheeks flushed and he attempted to take back what he had said. Clearly, he had not meant to insult Draco's house directly in front of him.
Although the comment would have angered many of the other Slytherin's, Draco actually found it quite funny. In truth, Ethan was right. Slytherin really was the worst house to be in at the moment.
Easing his tension, Draco chuckled, "It's all right. I get it. Slytherin isn't exactly a fan favourite at the moment."
Ethan relaxed immediately and returned to his conversation with Hermione.
"I must say that I am surprised you're here Hermione. No one to spend Christmas with?"
Draco too was curious why Hermione was still at the castle.
"My parents are in Australia."
"Traveling?" Ethan asked.
"Kind of," Hermione sighed.
Her force smile said it all. Draco didn't understand why, but for some reason Hermione didn't have the option to be with her family this year. He reached his hand under the table to hers in hopes she would find some comfort from him.
"I've always wanted to travel! Mom and dad say I'm too young to go with them. Ingredient gathering can be dangerous I guess," Ethan continued.
"I'm sure you'll go one day." Hermione was still forcing herself to smile back at the young boy.
"I sure hope so!"
Dinner continued this way for the remained of the evening. Ethan was so excited to be near the golden girl, that he barely let her eat her food. Despite this, Hermione never acted annoyed or rude towards him the entire night. Draco was always amazed with her patience.
When Slughorn indicated that the dinner was over and everyone could disperse when they were ready, Ethan gave Hermione a warm goodbye. When he was gone, Hermione stood from her chair and began to exit the room.
Draco followed casually behind Hermione, hoping nobody would notice that he hadn't turned towards the Slytherin common room. When they were far enough away from everyone, he called towards her, "I thought you left."
She turned to meet his eyes and asked, "what do you mean?"
"I thought you went to the train station with the golden boys. Not spending the holiday with the Weasley bunch?"
"No," Hermione replied as she diverted her eyes to hide her pain.
Draco wished she wouldn't try and hide her emotions from him.
"I figured it would be nice to have some quiet over the break. What about you? Why aren't you going home for Christmas?"
"Not really on speaking terms with my parents at the moment. Attending Christmas at the Manor meant attending visitations to Azkaban as well. They seem to think I should be supporting my father more."
"And what do you think?"
No one ever asked him what he thought or what he wanted. Everyone just assumed he was the same as his parents. It was nice to feel acknowledged for once. To feel listened to.
"I think he's a complete arse." It also felt nice to be honest. "I think it's a good thing he's going to rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life. I think my mother would be wise to let go."
"I'm sorry," Hermione offered.
"For what?"
"That you were born into something so poisonous. I see the way your family tears you apart. It's been like that for years. I remember the way the anxiety was killing you back in sixth year."
Memories flashed in Draco's mind of the stress he experienced after being tasked with killing Dumbledore. He hated himself desperately for allowing his life to end up this way.
"It is our choices that define who we are, not our families. And unfortunately for me, just like my family, I've made some rather horrible choices."
"You've also made some rather good ones," Hermione reminded him. "And given the family who raised you, I'd hazard a guess that those choices required a lot of bravery to make."
Despite all of his wrong doings, Hermione still saw him for what he was… a child who was forced into something he never asked for. A child who was told to grow up too fast. He loved her for seeing the good in him. But still, he hated himself and could not forgive his own actions.
"They weren't brave enough. I could have done more." Draco said quietly.
The pair continued down the corridor in complete silence. Draco wondered what Hermione was thinking about but was too nervous to ask.
When they reached the Gryffindor common room entrance, Draco was unwilling to part ways so soon, and so he prompted, "I showed you mine, are you going to show me yours?" in hopes that she would invite him in.
Hermione paused for a moment before nodding and turning to the portrait on the wall. The Fat Lady sang, "hello Miss Granger," in awful tune.
Hermione responded, "Hello. Memento legi caesorum."
Draco recognized the password as being some Latin phrase, although he couldn't quite figure out what it meant. He wondered if it was more meaningful than the Slytherin password Ophidian, which made reference to serpents. It probably was… the Gryffindors seemed much more thoughtful than the Slytherins these days.
Hermione's face grew with worry was the door didn't open. Then, the lady in the painting said in a highly judgemental tone, "He is not a Gryffindor."
Standing her ground, Hermione stated, "I've given the password. I don't need your comments. Open the door."
Giving in, the portrait slowly opened, revealing a small tunnel into a grand red room. Draco followed Hermione through the hole in the wall into the lion's den.
