/
A few days after Slughorn's supper, Draco collapsed into his four-poster bed, absolutely exhausted. Luckily, everyone was asleep, even Theo.
His entire body ached from the stress of his mission, but even more so from the after-effects of every bone in his body shifting to that of another's, then back again, all within a few hours.
The taste had been rotten enough, and he hoped he never had to use Polyjuice Potion ever again.
Guess Crabbe and Goyle's complaints are a bit valid, he shrugged.
Under the cover of night, Draco had made his way to Hogsmeade through one of Hogwarts' secret passages, the one in the dungeons behind an enormous ebony urn. He'd been unsure if the passage would be protected by the extra wards around the castle, so he'd been pleasantly surprised to find this particular passage undisturbed. Draco's solo trip certainly hadn't been sanctioned by any professor, and he'd chosen Tuesday evening in particular with the hope that the Three Broomsticks wasn't too busy.
Luck had been on his side; he'd evaded the attention of the Aurors posted in Hogsmeade, and the bar had been all but empty save for one mangy-looking wizard and the barmaid, Madam Rosmerta.
He remembered the way his heart hammered in his chest as he'd finally worked up the nerve to cast the Imperius. He'd never done it before, and feared it would fail; as he'd learned from a young age, you had to mean dark spells for them to have any actual power. As he'd cast the spell, it felt as though a bit of himself had been removed, leaving him a bit hollow. It was to his great surprise, and immense relief, his Imperius had succeeded. Rosmerta was now under his control, and none the wiser.
He could call this part of his plan a success; but it brought him little relief.
There was much to be done.
One of the coins he'd enchanted was warm in his hand (he'd given another to Rosmerta), and he amused himself by imagining what Granger's reaction might be if she ever discovered how her idea of Protean-enchanted coins were now being used. He wondered how she'd come up with the idea last year when she used it for Dumbledore's Army— the coins reminded him of the Dark Mark; more discreet, certainly less painful, but just as useful and powerful.
There was some sort of joke there, or deep irony— the other side of the same coin— but Draco was too tired to sort it out.
Unconsciously, he slipped the coin into his pocket and removed his ring from his finger. In a sliver of the pale light of pre-dawn seeping its way through the curtains of his four-poster, Draco could see 'Gryffindor dorm' inscribed inside the curved metal. He idly wondered what Granger's dorm looked like, all red and gold; he pictured her sleeping soundly, the pale morning light just beginning to illuminate her features, and felt himself begin to drift asleep.
He shook himself awake.
Tomorrow, he needed to find a way to get Saturday detention. The first trip to Hogsmeade was rapidly approaching, and with Potter, Snape, and Theo sniffing out his every move, he couldn't afford to be anywhere near Rosmerta, nor the parcel he'd "advised" her to pick up from the Hogsmeade owlry— the one Greyback and Borgin owled— then deliver.
Draco knew it'd be easier to rely on some other alibi— Theo perhaps, or Madam Pince in the library— but it would not be the wisest choice; he needed an ironclad alibi.
He mentally reviewed his class schedule; he had Transfiguration tomorrow.
Perfect, McGonagall. It didn't take much to earn detention from Gryffindor's stern Head of House, but Draco knew he was about due for a detention from the professor anyway; he'd barely touched his Transfiguration homework all week.
He slipped his ring back on his finger and waited for the sleep he knew would not come.
/
/
As he'd hoped, McGonagall obliged Draco with a Saturday detention the very next morning for his missing homework, and he felt he could relax slightly as he and Theo made their way to their extra Healing lesson.
"Did you manage to ask your aunt about Occlumency yet?" Theo asked.
"You know, just because I'm related to her by blood doesn't mean—"
"I'm not interested in your technicalities today, but I'm going to take your evasive answer as a resounding no. What the hell are you waiting for?"
It was true, Draco had yet to find the right opportunity to ask Professor Tonks about Occlumency, and she hadn't brought up the subject during any of their lessons.
"Another job for me I suppose," said Theo determinedly.
Draco sighed, knowing any further argument would be futile.
They found their seats at the table in the back of the room, and the other students, of which there were few, filed in.
"Good morning class, please pass your essays forward—"
"—Yes, Mister Nott?"
Draco sighed again as he glanced Theo's hand in the air.
"Professor— I was wondering, could you tell us about the benefits of Occlumency and Legilimency as a Healer?"
At a table in the front of the room, Hermione felt Harry tense beside her. She shot him a sympathetic look, despite feeling he'd rather wasted his opportunity to learn Occlumency from Snape.
She'd never imagined she might have a chance to learn about it in Tonks' Healing class.
Andromeda smiled at Theo in a way that very much reminded Draco of his mother— an amused smile she reserved for him, when he thought he was being particularly clever, but when she saw right through him. It had been so long since he'd seen it— so long since his mother had been happy.
"I see you've been reading up on my work— well, I won't say I mind," she clasped her hands behind her back and addressed the class as she had addressed her medical fellows countless times before.
"For those of you who may not know, Occlumency is the art of magically defending the mind against external penetration, sealing it against magical intrusion and influence – the defensive counter to Legilimency, which is the ability to extract emotions and memories from another person's mind."
"Occlumency has many uses, in life and work, especially as a Healer. It gives one the ability to compartmentalize their emotions and memories, to provide more objective diagnostics and treatments while maintaining the ability to empathize with the patient. The Healer profession is one that is well-known to be physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting, and studies are beginning to show that Occlumency can help reduce healer burn-out."
Hermione raised her hand, and Professor Tonks' nodded in her direction.
"But Professor, isn't Legilimency strictly controlled, especially as a Healer?"
"You're quite right, Miss Granger. A key aspect of Healing is respect; respect for the patient's privacy, personal characteristics, their families and caregivers, and their minds, of course. Legilimency is allowed in a very controlled and measured capacity, typically only in very severe cases."
"Excuse me professor," Susan Bones chimed tentatively. "But isn't forcing yourself into someone's mind disrespectful?"
"At a very base level it does seem to come across that way, but you must remember, as Miss Granger pointed out, the use of Legilimency is calculated, careful, controlled. To provide an example, there is a patient I have been working with for over ten years… her identity is still quite unknown, and she is unable to access her memories and thoughts without the assistance of Legilimency… and without extreme distress."
The class sat in awed silence for a moment.
"Will we learn the basics of Occlumency or Legilimency in your class?" Theo asked, unable to disguise the hope in his voice. He knew Draco needed it more than he did, but Theo's thirst for knowledge matched that of Hermione's.
Draco saw Andromeda smile in that familiar way yet again, "Unfortunately, no, Mister Nott. Such training is simply logistically impossible here at Hogwarts. It's best taught one-on-one. Plus, adolescence is perhaps the most challenging time to attempt to learn Occlumency… for—er, obvious reasons," she cleared her throat. "But, if any of you decide to take the path of a Healer after Hogwarts, you will most certainly have the opportunity."
Theo had given him an in, and Draco turned to find his friend looking rather smug. He rolled his eyes.
"You're welcome," Theo said quietly.
"Moving on," Andromeda addressed the entire class again. "Some of you may recall Dumbledore speaking of unity at the Welcome Feast—"
Not this again, Hermione grimaced.
"Surely, the idea has merit, but I believe most people do not have the luxury of living in a world of idealism. Frankly, I believe true unity is a bit of a farce, a naive delusion."
Draco leaned forward in his chair, his interest piqued.
Thank Merlin, Hermione thought.
"Teamwork, however, is vital as a Healer."
Well, never mind then… Hermione cringed as she thought of her and Nott's work with Felix Felicis. She'd had quite enough of teamwork this year.
"As I mentioned, Occluemncy can help one compartmentalize their feelings and emotions, and their biases as well. With or without Occlumency, this skill is necessary to be successful as a Healer, as we rarely work alone. Today, you will each be assigned a partner with whom you will work with for the remainder of term, in our extra lessons only."
A few of the students in the class groaned, and Hermione bit her lip in silence. She didn't allow herself to hope that she'd be paired with Harry; things didn't seem to be going her way this term.
At least we'll still be able to work together during the regular Healing lessons, Hermione tried to console herself.
"Let's get to it then," Tonks said as she unfurled a bit of parchment.
"Finch-Fletchley and Potter…"
Hermione saw Harry and Justin nod to each other in acknowledgement. Justin had been a member of the D.A.; she had a sinking feeling she would not be so lucky with her partner.
"… Nott and Bones…"
"Peachy," Theo whispered flatly, to no one in particular.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Draco thought darkly, ignoring the names of the other students now being paired up. Draco knew Voldemort loathed the outspoken Bones family as a whole, or at least what was left of them, tortured into madness or murdered by Death Eaters— Voldemort had even killed Susan Bones' mother personally.
"…Granger and Malfoy…"
Of course, Hermione thought in irritation, considering she could really use that Felix Felicis right about now. It was Harry's turn for the sympathetic look.
Draco glared at the back of Hermione's head, then unleashed said glare upon Theo, who was already smirking.
"Don't— just, don't."
"Enjoy," Theo said in a sing-song voice as he rose from his seat to join Bones.
Draco did not look up from his textbook as Granger approached, but her unmistakable brown curls were soon beside him. He heard her sigh in exasperation.
Same, Granger, same.
"Today you and your partner will go through every technique we've learned so far," Andromeda waved her wand and a ravaged-looking grapefruit, gashed, oozing, and covered in number of as yet unidentified medical ailments, appeared on each table. "In our next lesson we will graduate to more advanced spells, and more realistic test subjects."
"More advanced than a bloody grapefruit? Didn't think it was possible," Draco murmured.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Let's just get this over with, Malfoy."
"Be my guest," Draco winced at the ghastly sight of the grapefruit, noting the dull ache in his arm. He'd become better at ignoring it, the ache of his Dark Mark, but every now and then—
"Squeamish, much?"
"Not all of us are as practiced as you at witnessing physical atrocities—" Draco lied, his mind suddenly flooded with an onslaught of the grotesque, both physical and mental, atrocities he'd witnessed over the years at the hands of his father, Death Eaters, and more recently, Voldemort. "—Potter and Weasley's faces— you must be so desensitized."
He watched as Granger pointed her wand at the grapefruit, and, in silence, its purplish boils instantly disappeared.
Impressive.
It was clear to Draco that her non-verbal spellwork extended beyond Jelly-leg and Confundus jinxes, both of which he had only managed once or twice.
"Are you sure? I can only imagine how lovely the mark on your arm looks," she whispered icily and he cringed. She grinned in satisfaction.
Draco pointed his wand at the grapefruit and muttered, "Episkey."
The gash in the rind closed only slightly.
"Looks a lot better than that new scar of yours," he retorted, realizing he was simultaneously insulting his own handwriting as he remembered the details of her scar.
But she doesn't know that.
"Episkey," he tried again, and watched in dismay as juice bubbled from the fruit's wound, leaking onto the table.
"You're really terrible at this, aren't you?"
Yes, Draco's mind answered despondently.
"Me? And your attempts to heal that wound on your chest were so successful. Out of Pomfrey's wheelhouse too?"
Hermione sighed and healed the gash Draco had failed to mend with a quick, verbal, "Episkey." To Draco's consternation, no trace of the wound was left behind.
Despite her success, she frowned. Malfoy's presence seemed to be diminishing her ability to cast non-verbal spells.
"I'm not sure why you'd even care, but I haven't asked anyone to heal it. No one else even knows about it." In truth she had considered going to Madam Pomfrey or Professor Tonks, even Snape, but it seemed to her the interrogation and attention that would surely ensue would be more trouble than it was worth. She'd been careful to hide it with the right clothing choices, or, as she'd done for Slughorn's supper, a bit of Muggle make-up.
"Why not?" He blurted, unable to stop himself, surprised to learn she'd kept it a secret.
"So you want me to tell—?"
"No—" he blurted again. Occlumency was sounding more and more appealing with every moment he spent in Granger's presence.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at his uncharacteristically flustered reaction. She even thought she noticed the most subtle twinge of warmth appear across his cheeks.
"It seems like more trouble than it's worth," she shrugged. It was the truth, and she saw no point in deception here. She wanted the necklace removed, and she certainly wished it had never marked her, but it had proved to be otherwise harmless. There were more important things to think about these days, after all. She reasoned if Harry could live with his scars, she could live with hers.
Draco stared at her for a long moment, and he couldn't be sure, but he thought he felt something like respect, admiration even.
He turned again to the grapefruit, "Desperismus Wartcap."
The citrus vibrated but a little, then was still.
"Bloody—"
Hermione couldn't help but grin in amusement at his obvious frustration. She knew Malfoy was typically more successful at his academic endeavors, and that he was more than capable of success, but it seemed as though he was entirely amiss this year, particularly with Healing.
And I bet that Mark on his arm and whatever he's been up to has something, or maybe everything, to do with it, she thought.
"Maybe you're thinking too much about getting the grapefruit back to how it used to be, you know, before it was 'wounded,'" she said as she met his gaze.
"Try imagining what it will look like after it's been healed," she added softly.
She was surprised to find Malfoy actually heeding her advice, and even more surprised at herself for sincerely encouraging him. She figured he probably wasn't all that familiar with the sentiment. At any rate, they were partners now, and she wasn't about to let her pride get in the way… particularly where her grades were concerned.
Maybe she's right, Draco thought grudgingly. She's definitely better at healing than you are, a voice in his head reasoned.
He sighed and closed his eyes, focusing on the image of what the grapefruit could look like, should he succeed.
Hermione watched him with curiosity, unable to tear her eyes away from his relaxed features, the firm line of his jaw, the curve of his slightly parted lips.
Hermione's gentle guidance echoed through his mind. "Desperismus Wartcap," he said quietly, but purposefully.
The hard, thick crust covering a section of the grapefruit disappeared instantly. It looked as though the citrus had just been plucked from the tree.
He ventured a glance at Granger, and their eyes met again, but this time— for the first time— in understanding. In that moment, they both hoped their own wounds would heal as easily, should the war ever come to an end.
/
A/N: I hope you're enjoying more of these Dramione moments. Thank you for reading and reviewing!