/
As Slughorn droned on and on (and on) to Melinda Bobbin about her family's chain of apothecaries, Draco was rapidly regretting his decision to come to Slughorn's supper.
At least he doesn't seem all that interested in McLaggen at the moment, Draco thought, prepared to hex the smarmy Gryffindor git into next week should he mention his bloody uncle one more time.
His patience was thinner than usual, and for Draco, that meant it had all but disappeared.
He had spent all day up on the seventh floor in the Room of Hidden Things— a Polyjuiced Crabbe outside keeping watch— researching the books he'd borrowed from the library, and failing minute by minute and hour by hour to repair the Vanishing Cabinet.
Exasperated at his lack of progress and enraged by the news that the Manor had again been searched by the Ministry, he'd abandoned a Polyjuiced, freshly memory-wiped Crabbe and headed to dinner, only to run into Slughorn and Theo talking outside the Great Hall. Slughorn had beckoned him over, inviting them both to supper.
In truth, Draco wanted nothing more than to make some excuse to avoid the gathering, but he couldn't help but shake the feeling it couldn't hurt to stay in Slughorn's good graces. The man had connections, after all, and if he had learned anything from his father, it was that with connections, however vile the person, came resources, influence, and power.
Just as Draco was expecting Slughorn to summon the meal, the door to his rooms— a makeshift dining room tonight— creaked open, and he looked up in surprise to find Hermione entering the room.
Draco immediately noticed she'd put more care than usual into her appearance; she wore a casual, but fitted black dress under an unbuttoned cardigan, and her hair was swept back and carefully secured. It was clear she'd been in a hurry, as her cheeks were slightly flushed and a few wavy tendrils of her warm brown hair had come loose, framing her face. Draco admitted the effect was not altogether displeasing.
Or maybe it's the wine, he thought, taking another sip of said beverage.
At least I can hold my alcohol enough not to make a show, Draco thought, noting Slughorn's glass had already been emptied and refilled a number of times, the professor's cheeks burning redder and the readiness of his laughter increasing by the minute. Draco idly wondered what McGonagall— or Snape, better yet— would say if they learned Slughorn was serving wine to students.
"Miss Granger, welcome!" Slughorn boomed.
Across the table, Draco saw McLaggen eyeing Hermione as if she were a bit of perfectly cooked roast beef. Theo had told him about McLaggen's little infatuation with Granger at the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts. Draco clenched his jaw in irritation, and rather felt like punching the prat in the middle of his stupid face.
Or maybe it's not the wine, a voice that sounded rather like Theo's replied in his head.
"I'm so sorry I'm late professor—"
"Nonsense, nonsense! I know you've been tending to some very— delicate— matters," Slughorn said jovially, winking at Hermione and tapping his nose as he glanced pointedly at Theo.
Draco shot his friend a pointed look. What was that about? He wondered.
To Draco's growing annoyance, Theo simply pretended not to notice.
"It seems I should be the one apologizing, apparently I've overbooked this dinner!"
Draco looked away and noted every seat at the round table was already taken.
"Here— Gra- er, Hermione," her name sounded odd coming from Theo's mouth, "take my seat." His friend stood to offer up his seat. Draco glared at him.
Why does it always feel like he's up to something? He wondered.
Because he is always up to something, his mind answered as if he'd just read this obvious fact from his History of Magic textbook.
Hermione opened her mouth as if to protest, but Theo was already standing behind his chair, expectantly waiting for her to take the offered seat.
"Thank you," she mumbled, clearly uncomfortable at the attention. Theo slid the chair in behind her as she sat. The table was too small for the number of occupants already seated, so as Hermione sat down, Draco felt her arm brush against his. He didn't move away from the contact.
"And they say chivalry is dead! Very good of you Theo, indeed."
Draco scoffed internally. Theo had many qualities, but chivalry certainly was not one of them.
Nott nodded in acknowledgement, then strode across the room for another chair. He returned to the table a moment later, chair in hand. To Draco's annoyance, he took a spot on Granger's other side.
"Shame Harry was otherwise engaged, but there's always next time, no Miss Granger?"
"He's very sorry he couldn't make it, professor—"
Like hell he is. Draco was also a bit sorry Potter couldn't make it; he'd pay ten galleons to witness his reaction to seeing Granger nestled between him and Theo. He smirked.
"Apology gladly accepted. Right, then— famished everyone?" Slughorn waved his wand, and their supper appeared before them, plentiful and steaming. "Dig in, enjoy! I intend to do so."
Obviously, Draco thought, noting Slughorn's immense stomach prevented him from sitting very near the table.
Slughorn returned his attention to Bobbin and Greengrass, who flanked his left and right, while McLaggen dug in as though he'd never seen a hot meal before.
"So… Confund anyone today Granger?" He whispered, his lopsided smirk growing as he took another sip of wine.
To his pleasure, he felt her shift in alarm beside him.
Theo had been quick to recount what he'd seen at Gryffindor's Quidditch tryouts, highlighting Granger's special influence, not that Draco particularly cared about the team. There was no doubt he would miss playing Quidditch this year— part of him wished for the days when the next match was his biggest concern— but he just didn't have the capacity to care about the competition this year, not when he was otherwise engaged with trying to avoid certain death.
Rather puts things into perspective, he thought dryly, idly wondering if this was how Potter felt every year.
In truth, he was more disappointed that he hadn't witnessed Granger use a Confundus on McLaggen— the prat certainly deserved it, and worse. He'd be happy to see it again, in fact, right here in the middle of Slughorn's supper would be more than all right with him.
"I have no idea—" she began, without turning her head to look at him.
"—right," he interrupted, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "And Potter's really just so upset he can't be here."
"Just like you're so upset you couldn't make it to the pitch today? Had to send Nott to do your dirty work?"
"You'd know a lot about dirty work, following Potter's every whim all these years. Theo went on his own accord. I could care less about—"
"You're talking an awful lot about Harry. It seems to me you do care."
"I'm not even playing this year—" the words tumbled from his lips before he could stop himself.
He ventured a glance in her direction, and their eyes met. Her gaze was warm and bright with surprise in the glow of the room's candlelight. They were sitting so close, he could see every golden fleck in her irises, reflected back at him. He looked down and saw the necklace against the smooth skin of her throat, and near her collarbone, the outline of something pink— like a new scar…
"Miss Granger, that necklace can't be goblin-made platinum I see Draco admiring, can it? But it must be— I know it when I see it! It always has such a special glow— charming. I won't even mention it's value! I hope you don't mind me pointing it out, but I can't possibly ignore an object so rare."
Draco saw Hermione blush as all eyes turned to her.
"Oh, yes, er— thank you professor."
"Usually such objects are precious family heirlooms, I wonder how yours came into your possession?"
It was true, Draco knew, pureblood families revered goblin-forged precious metals like their lineage depended on it; the objects, like the ring on his finger, passed carefully from generation to generation through the centuries.
But Draco felt suddenly incensed for Granger. Slughorn knew she was Muggle-born, and it was almost as if the professor was accusing her of stealing the necklace from someone more worthy.
Who does Slughorn think he is, Salazar Slytherin?
Draco recognized it was a comment he might've made himself not all that long ago, but it now struck him as rather uncouth.
Hypocrite, a voice that sounded annoyingly like Theo's whispered in his head.
"Oh, um, it was a gift," she replied dutifully, and Draco swore he could feel Hermione's heat— her embarrassment, or more likely her anger— radiate toward him. Clearly Slughorn's implications had not been lost on her either.
He swallowed hard and busied himself with his supper, feigning disinterest.
"A gift! Oho, what do you think of that, Mister Malfoy? I see a platinum most similar on your finger there."
Beside Hermione, Draco heard Theo sputter on his drink.
I don't know who I'm going to kill first: Theo or Slughorn, Draco thought, legitimately considering his options.
"Easy there, Mister Nott! Don't tell me I've stumbled upon some sensitive information?" Slughorn grinned deviously and looked to Draco, then Hermione, then back again. "Oh, my—"
Definitely Slughorn. Like I would ever sincerely buy a gift like that for someone like Granger.
But you did buy that for Granger, his mind argued.
Luckily, Bobbin, Greengrass, and McLaggen combined seemed to share the mental acuity of less than one Weasley family member; Draco saw McLaggen was open-mouthed, a bit of potato escaping from his lips to his plate, all the while winking at Granger; Greengrass was more interested in inspecting her own jewelry, as if offended Slughorn hadn't mentioned the worth of her valuables; and Bobbin appeared altogether miserable, anxiously glancing at the door every few seconds.
"So, Professor, this is quite a fine elf-made wine we're drinking," Theo interjected coyly. "The cellar at Greystoke Castle spans the length of the estate, you know, but I don't think I've ever seen this one before."
Draco knew this was a lie; at least the part where Theo had said he'd never seen the wine before. The cellars at Greystoke Castle were vast, and he and Theo had certainly explored every crevice. He was relieved at the change in subject, however.
"Cellar, you say?" Slughorn's eyes lit up as he addressed Theo, as if Draco and Hermione no longer existed. "How fine, indeed! Albus— er, Dumbledore, goes on and on about mead, but I must admit I much prefer a fine aged grape…"
Slughorn's voice faded from Draco's consciousness as he focused his attention on Hermione, who'd gone still and silent beside him. She'd barely touched her meal, but he could see her chest rapidly rising and falling as she no doubt struggled to control her emotions.
"It burned me, you know," she whispered softly, and he felt as though the room were suddenly very hot.
She shifted in her seat slightly, as if to see him better, but her eyes never moved from her plate. He felt her knee brush against his leg.
He bit his lip as his eyes traveled again to the platinum necklace, then across her chest to her collarbone. In the soft light of the room, he could not help but notice her skin was smooth and luminous, save for the slightly raised mark he'd noticed earlier. If he'd been any further away, the mark would be mostly invisible, but because he was sitting so near her, he could see she had attempted to conceal it somehow; a scar, just below her delicate collarbone— in the shape of the letter 'M.'
The sight of it gave him pause— this was neither a random 'M' nor a strange wound that had just-so-happened to slightly resemble the letter. No, this 'M' was his; it looked at if his own hand had started signing his surname and just stopped after the first letter.
Maybe it was the wine, his day of failure, his fear for his mother, his exhaustion, or maybe it was nothing more than being in the same room as McLaggen for more than half an hour, but Draco felt an undeniable pang of guilt at the sight of Hermione's scar.
When he'd clasped it around her neck, he knew he'd be the only one able to remove the necklace without de-activating the charm first, but he never imagined it would burn her.
The irony that she'd been marked, against her will, like him, and that he'd been the one to do it, was not lost on him.
Should've known better, buying from Borgin's, a voice in Draco's head reasoned. But he hadn't really cared then.
And you care now? His mind asked.
"Every time someone else tries to remove it…" She whispered, and Draco clenched his fist, suddenly irrationally angry at the image of Potter trying to remove the necklace.
It wasn't like he really cared now, either. Did he? He certainly wasn't going to suddenly relent and remove it for her.
"Not my problem," he whispered, feigning disinterest. She scowled and turned to face the table, leaving him feeling rather cold.
"No, I suppose you have too many of your own problems to deal with right now," she whispered icily, her gaze traveling to his left forearm.
"Pudding everyone?" Slughorn asked rhetorically and he clasped his hands together in delight.
/
/
"What're you playing at, Nott?" Draco asked icily as they made their way back to the Slytherin dungeons after Slughorn had drunkenly bid them goodnight.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, but if I did, I'd tell you that you're not the only one with secrets, Malfoy. Unless, of course, you're ready to share?"
Draco sighed in exasperation.
"Since when do you fraternize with Gryffindors?"
Theo abruptly stopped just outside of the Slytherin Common Room, his expression firm.
"You want to know something?"
Draco turned to face Theo, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do I have a choice?"
"I don't think you would bat a bloody eye about what I was up to if you didn't think it had anything to do with Granger."
Draco regarded his friend through narrowed eyes.
"I don't know what the hell you're getting at."
"Of course you don't, which is even more concerning," Theo replied without missing a beat.
"So enlighten me, oh wise one."
"Tell me what you were up to all day, and I'd be glad to."
"Goodnight Theo," Draco said with finality as he tapped a pattern on the stone wall outside the Slytherin Common Room and it dematerialized to let him through.
/
A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this one, I hope you enjoyed reading it. Thanks as always for reading and reviewing!