October the 16th 4th year - Draco Malfoy

11:23 am

Waiting. There's a lot of that involved with him. I don't know how he expects me to just sit idly by and wait while he discusses… Well, I'm not even entirely sure what or how much he's going to tell the girl. Bollocks. She terrifies me. She's the one he trusts though. Of the pair I can see why he puts the most faith in her, but it doesn't assuage this gnawing fear that I'm going to be turned into something foul, even if only for a moment.

It's true, he didn't give me a specific time. It could take some convincing, even as bright a girl as she is. That's it. That's what's keeping him.

Crack! The loud sound startles me out of my internal ramblings as Dobby pops into the room. He really isn't one for using doors any more than he absolutely must. I'd have taken the time to consider the reasons for this, if not for the instant nervous ramblings of the elf. In his defense, he has every reason to feel that way still. Time. That's what he'd said.

"Dobby has come to collect Master. They're ready." It is as simple as that, I don't even have a chance to respond, think even. He's taken my hand and with a loud crack! We're suddenly, and a little nauseatingly, in a room I don't recognize and they're both standing across the room, still talking.

The elf is gone the moment we're in the room, leaving me on my own.

"If you're certain, then I promise to keep an open mind. I trust you, Harry. Hello, Malfoy." Hermione switches gears without missing a beat as she turns to face me, halting me in my tracks. The urge to run as she stares me down is almost winning out.

"Greetings, Granger." I try to make my tone calm, hoping I am the only one that can hear the words tremble on my tongue. It isn't the effort to be cordial, it is simple the fact she's an utterly terrifying bint.

"It's going to take all the time we've got to make this convincing, I hope you both realize this. Ron's going to be tough. It'll hurt, but in the long run his ignorance is your best-selling point and I'll have the holiday to explain things when you are both out of reach."

"Straight to it then. Right." I nod, inhaling deeply but holding moments longer than I should have. I feel a tad dizzier than I already was and feel a bit greener to boot.

"You all right, mate?" I feel his hand on the back of my neck. When did he get so close? Have I just been that focused on keeping it together and being strong in front of the girl that I just didn't see him move? Had he just been that quick?

"Just… bit dizzy is all. I never handled moving about with Dobby like that." I try and smile, just the slightest bit in his direction, catching those emerald eyes. It isn't fading though, it's not enough to distract.

"Right then." I hear her, but no clue what she's on about, I just feel his hand, the spinning of the room and those eyes.

Then, there's suddenly a bucket being held in front of me, the hands holding it are hers. Too small to be his. I can feel my head shake, fighting the sensation, pretending their assumption is incorrect. Then it happens. It's disorienting, embarrassing, humiliating, disgusting. It happens, but I can feel one of his hands holding back my hair, the other moving in circles on my back, tips of his fingers curling and uncurling until I've finished.

She's quick to remove the bucket and provide a damp cloth for my face. Then they're both insisting that I sit. I haven't the desire to fight it. They're on either side of me. I can feel my body tense. This is far more than I had expected, more kindness and compassion, than I had expected from the witch.

"Harry used to react the same way the first few trips. Going with Hagrid wasn't too much better on him in the beginning. Drink this." She hands me a glass, only a shot worth of some funny colored liquid. I drink it down as quickly as I can. Shocked, I look at her, I feel loads better. She just shrugs, blushing for a moment before she gets back to it. "Right, then. The way I see this working best is what's going to be the hardest for you, Harry. You're going to have to distance yourself from Ron gradually starting tonight. In about a week you two will be more public about your friendship. Nothing obvious, but more than just civility and cordiality you two have been doing so far. The agreement of civility in public you two have already been engaging in works to your advantage. It makes it less of a stretch that by the holiday you're even open to having anything to do with Mr. Malfoy -I don't mean you, Draco." She pauses for what feels like only a single breath before she's off and running again. How has he not found a way to silence her before now? Or at least slow her down. Once she's got her mind on something, it seems she's an unstoppable force.

"Hermione!" Harry calls her name, pulling both of us in his direction, I can still feel his hand on my back. It's only in the silencing of the witch I realize I never left. "You're saying if we take the friendship a little more public and I push Ron away, shut him out, by the holiday enough will get back to Lucius that Draco wanting me to return with him for the holiday won't be surprising?"

"I'm saying the only difference between getting everyone to believe that he's turned over a new leaf and you flipping sides is a very fine line. It truly boils down to your connection with Ron. You severe that it sways things in the darker direction. No one notices me, you know that. I'm just the brains that keeps you lot from getting killed. At least, that's the gist of how everyone sees things. It all comes back to that moment in the outer hall before first year began. When you chose Ron over Draco. That's the selling point. I've always been the brains you two needed to survive. At least as far as everyone else is concerned. No, I know we're more than that. But, where you and I stand will never be as important to the public eye as the three of you. You've been in the middle since first year, Harry."

I stare at the witch, letting her words truly sink in. Reality floods me, she's right. That moment turned the tides, not just how I conducted myself but how Harry handled the situation. We were nothing more than children, we still really aren't, but that simple refusal set the tone for the years that followed, for even some of the things at home. It sickens me that the fact we must resort to this farce is going to make Father over the moon. The idea that I could sway 'the boy who lived' to his master's side of the line is… It's the safest way to not be alone with him over the holiday. It's a way to briefly be on his good side, even if it is all a lie, the idea of such relief is enough to nearly send me to the floor. That is, had I not been seated between the odd pair and he's still touching me.