"So," Hermione was desperate to change the subject. "What were you two discussing before I came in?"
It was Harry who eagerly answered, "Actually, we were talking about finding time to get some flying in. McGonagall said we can't play for the house teams, but she didn't say anything about not using the pitch for recreation."
Draco nodded in agreement, careful to make eye contact with her only briefly. "Its been ages since I was on a broom just for fun. We're thinking today after Care of Magical Creatures would work."
"I think that sounds like a great idea." Hermione answered, pleasantly surprised they were getting along. She smiled to herself as she thought of the three of them spending the rest of the year in the cottage as friends rather than enemies or adversaries. "I have to admit, its nice that you two are getting on so well. It takes a lot of stress off my mind. I wasn't looking forward to an entire year of tension."
Harry smiled at his best friend, but addressed his response to their former enemy. "I'm not gonna lie... it will take a lot of getting used to, but I am ready to move forward. How about you, Malfoy?"
Draco swallowed hard, trying to conceal the emotion Harry's statement fueled in him. "Yes. Thank you, Potter. Moving forward is more than I had hoped for and certainly more than I deserve."
Hermione wanted to blurt the truth about Draco to Harry, but knew that was something he was entitled to do in his own time. Instead she stated, "Then its settled, this year will be a fresh start."
The three eighth years walked through the portal one after another right as class was scheduled to begin. They all agreed immediate access to their classrooms was ranked among the top five perks of their unique living arrangements. Also on the list were: the kitchen parchment, privacy from curious underclassmen, not having to share sleeping quarters and the portraits of their deceased loved ones. Although he would never admit it, Harry had spent his nights sleeping in the common room under the watchful eyes of his parents.
The scratch of chalk against blackboard began before they'd had the chance to take their seats.
Good morning, Eighth years.
As I understand it, Mr. Weasley will no longer be joining us due to his invitation to play quidditch for the Bulgarian National Team. His departure has left us with quite a conundrum. Individuals or partners, not threesomes are preferable for working on potions, thus the remainder of the year, you will be completing your assignments independently.
(Mr. Potter, I can't imagine your work declining due to this change, as I am certain it is impossible to do worse than that disaster you and Mr. Weasley turned in yesterday.)
I may at some point begin assigning different potions to each of you, however for the time being you will all be brewing the same.
Today's potion is: Skele-Gro it can be found on page 173 in your textbooks. You are welcome to talk things over with each other, but I expect each of you to brew your own batch. Good Luck and Happy Brewing.
~Professor H. Slughorn
P.S. ... Mr. Malfoy & Miss Granger, as brilliantly as Mr. Potter & Mr. Weasley failed at the PASEO IDEAL, you two excelled. Well Done.
"Well, that's just great." Harry muttered, causing Draco and Hermione to chuckle.
"Don't get too beat up over it, Harry." Hermione chided. "Its still early in the year, and I'm sure you'll be able to redeem yourself. Plus, with the way Ron was acting yesterday, its a miracle the potion didn't blow up in your faces."
"Let's just get to work." Harry said, choosing a cauldron, obviously still irritated.
The skele-gro took only an hour to brew, and the trio found themselves with plenty of free time before Care of Magical Creatures. They all agreed to make the best of the pleasant weather while it lasted, but didn't want to run the risk of bumping into any other students.
"I'm pretty sure our cottage has some sort of invisibility boundary," Hermione offered. "Why don't we go back there. We can have tea on the front porch."
Harry and Draco looked at each other incredulously. "Ummm... Hermione. Just this morning, we decided friendship is an option. I don't think we're at the having-tea-on-the-porch stage yet." Harry chuckled.
Hermione blushed, realizing Harry was right of course and that she had gotten a bit ahead of herself. "Well, we could still go to the cottage. The front garden has a great view of the lake."
The boys silently consulted each other and shrugged in agreement. "The cottage it is." Draco stated.
The threesome leisurely made their way back to the library, so accustomed to the corridors that none of them felt the need to monitor their route. What they hadn't known was that the corridor they were used to taking from the dungeon to the library had been severely damaged in the battle, so much so that during reconstruction it had been removed altogether. The three eighth years thus found themselves staring at a brick wall. They were lost. The irony smacked them square in their faces and and they simultaneously burst into laughter.
"Oh, this is rich," Hermione choked out. "Hogwarts' three oldest, most experienced students are lost inside the castle walls."
When their laughter died out, they agreed no one must ever know what had just happened and that backtracking was the smartest plan, but since none of them had been paying attention, they couldn't even do that properly. The wandered in this new, unfamiliar section of the castle for nearly half an hour before recognizing a gargoyle statue that marked the corridor leading from the dungeons to the Great Hall.
"Finally!" Harry exclaimed.
"So much for our free time." Draco added. "Thanks to that little detour, we're going to be lucky if we make it to Hagrid's on time."
"Well, I for one, am not interested in being late." Hermione shouted as she darted ahead of the boys who wasted no time following her lead.
They arrived at Hagrid's hut, breathless, but with a minute to spare. The half-giant gave them a curious look as he exited his home. "What in ther world's gotten in ter you three?"
The classmates shot we-promised-it-would-be-our-secret-looks at one another. It was Harry who finally answered. "We just thought it'd be nice to have a bit of exercise on our way down here. You know, work out the old lungs and such."
Draco and Hermione nodded their heads in agreement as Hagrid's gaze scanned each of them quizically. "Whate'er you say. I've ne'er been much for exercisin' meself, but good for yers." He turned his back to them, and they all breathed sighs of relief. "Anyone o' yers want ter guess what you'll be doin' today?" His smile reached from ear to ear as he held up a large brown sack, that appeared to be getting beaten up from the inside.
It wasn't that Hermione wanted to answer necessarily, it was more like she couldn't help herself. When a professor asked her a question, she was compelled to give a response. "Cornish Pixies."
Harry and Draco were able to pick up on her tone of annoyance, but it didn't seem to register with Hagrid as he cheered, "Right you are, 'Ermione. I caught this band o' pixies tryin' ter sneak in ter the castle last night. They need to be right dealt with... relocated deep in ter the forest."
Draco and Harry exchanged nervous glances as they remembered the last time they ventured into the forest on a mission with Hagrid. It was a time neither of them would likely forget as it had brought them face-to-face with a barely alive Voldemort. Certainly this would not prove as dangerous, but one never did know when it came to the groundskeeper as he was prone to fancying creatures most witches and wizards avoided with good reason. The boys hadn't noticed they'd been left behind until Hagrid's booming voice called to them from several meters into the forest. "Are you two plannin' ter make Miss 'Ermione and I do all ther work?"
"No," Harry answered. "We're coming." He lowered his voice as he added, just for Draco to hear, "Medicating Pygmy Puffs doesn't seem so bad now."
The mission was more or less a success. They reached Hagrid's preferred release point with no setbacks, and it was looking like they'd be having themselves another short class period. But the pixies had other ideas. As soon as Hagrid released his hold on the bag, the air was full of tiny, angry bodies, using anything and everything they could find to inflict pain upon those who had imprisoned them. It took the four of them an hour to calm the flying buggers down. All of their faces and arms were covered in scratches and Hermione was certain she'd be picking sticks and pebbles from her hair for weeks. When the students emerged from the forest, all any of them wanted to do was retreat to their cottage to clean up.
For the first time since he had gone, Hermione truly felt Ron's absence, and while it didn't feel right for her to say it out loud, she couldn't help but be a bit glad he wasn't there to challenge her for first dibs on their bathroom. Meanwhile, her housemates were not as lucky. They were still bickering back and forth as she slid her bedroom door closed behind her.
Though she longed to have a soak in the tub, she decided a shower was more appropriate for the middle of the day. The hot water beat down on her like a thousand tiny hammers, working out the kinks in her muscles. For several minutes, she simply let herself be engulfed in it's rhythm, allowing her mind to drift to the events of that morning. Ron was gone. His lack of effort to say a proper goodbye spoke volumes to her and served to reinforce what she had known to be true for awhile... they just weren't meant to be. Harry and Draco were getting along (the bathroom squabble excluded). She hadn't even had to ask Harry to try, he'd made that choice on his own. For some reason, that made Hermione's next train of thought easier to process. "Ron's gone. I am single. Draco is single. Wait... is he? Think, Hermione, THINK! Has he mentioned anyone this year? No... not that I can remember. But that doesn't necessarily mean anything. If I were him, I probably wouldn't lead with that kind of information, especially to people who once considered me their enemy. I wouldn't want to drag someone else into a fight that wasn't theirs. No. If I were him, I'd keep anyone I am close to a secret, at least until I knew they wouldn't be in any kind of harm's way. But then why did he kiss me? He wouldn't have done that if he had a girlfriend, would he? No, this year's Draco wouldn't do that. But just how much do I really know about 'this year's Draco'? Just what he has told me, but I trust him. And Harry seems to trust him, too. Well, a little bit anyway. McGonagall obviously trusts him. She put him in this cottage with us after all. So he's trustworthy. And a trustworthy guy would not go around kissing me if he had a girlfriend. But what will Ron think? He's always been the jealous-type. What will he think if he hears I'm getting close to Draco so soon after breaking up with him? He definitely won't take that well. But I have the right to get on with the rest of my life. I don't need to consider Ron's feelings about every choice I want to make. He's a big boy, he'll just have to learn how to deal with me being with someone else. Yeah, but that someone else just happens to be Draco Malfoy..." Her thoughts ran themselves in circles, causing her to lose track of time. A loud knock on her bathroom door brought her back to reality.
"Yes?" Hermione called over the running water.
"Just making sure you're okay." It was Draco. Her knees weakened and her heart rate increased rapidly. "You've been in there for quite a while."
"I'm..." Her voice came out shaky and high pitched. She cleared her throat and answered in her teacher's pet tone, "I'm fine, thank you. Just finishing up, actually." He didn't answer, but she assumed he'd gotten the message. She quickly scrubbed some shampoo through her hair, and ran the soap over her body, then exited the shower. She cracked the door to her bedroom open slightly in order to verify Draco had in fact left. The main door was shut and he was nowhere to be seen, so she entered and dressed.
Draco was amused by the way her voice squeaked when she'd first tried to answer him. He could tell by her overly composed second attempt that she was nervous. It was a tell she'd had even as a six year-old. He was careful to get in and out of her room before Harry finished his shower. Draco knew that just because they had agreed to move forward, it didn't mean Harry would be okay with him being in Hermione's room, especially while she was in the shower. He had acquiesced the argument for bathroom rights to his housemate. There was no point in damaging their newly built trust over something so trivial. The shower would still be there in half an hour, but Harry's decision to be on good terms might not be.
The cottage was in stark contrast to the house in which Draco was raised. Malfoy Manor had no warmth or character. Every item was chosen and arranged to serve its specific purpose. There were no throw pillows or blankets. No vases of flowers on the coffee table. No colors other than shades of gray. Draco hated it there. As a child, whenever he could, he would sneak away to the outskirts of the garden where his father rarely visited. There Draco's mother had planted several small patches of wildflowers. She took great caution to select flowers that would grow naturally, thereby providing an explanation of how and why they were growing if Lucius ever stumbled upon the area. Draco didn't care so much about the flowers, but he did love the butterflies and the honey bees that frequented the area. They reminded him of Hermione with whom he spent countless hours chasing said insects during his summers as Blake. The simple flower bed was Draco's only sanctuary during the nine months of the year he spent at the Manor. He couldn't help but wonder if Professor McGonagall had somehow known about it when she chose plants for the cottage garden, because staring at him through the floor to ceiling window were the exact flowers he'd been able to find solace in all those years.
Suddenly, a white butterfly captured his attention. It fluttered near the window, and seemed to be observing him just as he was it. His imagination was about to get the best of his reasonable judgement, then just as whimsically as it had appeared the creature flew away. But it sparked a memory... his conversation with Luna on their first day back. Somehow she knew his secret. He rushed back to the sitting room, hoping his godfather would be in the portrait.
"Severus..." Although he could still hear both showers, Draco nervously looked toward the landing for any signs he wasn't alone.
"Draco, not that I'm not pleased to have a chat with you, but what's got you stopping by for a visit during the school day?" The portrait's tone sounded curious, but Draco could tell it was also laced with concern.
"Luna Lovegood knows about us. She knows about me... about Blake. How does she know?" He asked desperately.
Snape's stoic expression did not waiver, but he was unable to hide the surprise in his voice. "Well, that would be interesting. Are you sure she knows?"
Draco shot another glance over his shoulder. One of the showers had shut off, so he moved closer and lowered his voice. "Yes! I ran into her on the first day. She told me Hermione and Ron don't belong together and that the season is right for forgiveness. Then she called me Blake! How is that possible?"
His godfather's portrait was silent for what seemed, to Draco, an eternity, but he finally answered, "I've had my suspicions about Miss Lovegood since her third year, and this confirms it..." He seemed to be having a great internal dialogue with himself. His gaze was focused to Draco's right, somewhere inside his frame. He quickly turned to face his godson. "Draco, think... you've always known there was something different about Luna. You told me so when you first met her. That made me take notice. Did you know she has received the school's highest marks in Divination, and not just the highest for her year... the highest ever. Now you're telling me she knows the secret... I believe Luna is not only skilled in Divination, but in Legilimency as well. For her to know something we were able to keep hidden for Voldemort for seven years means she is the most powerful legilimens in history."
"But aren't most legilimens dark wizards?" Draco's stomach tightened.
"In general, that is correct. Most legilimens have trained themselves to be so with dark motivations. However, in the case of Miss Lovegood, I believe she is a natural legilimens. Meaning she doesn't try to read people's minds, but that others' thoughts are transmitted to her unknowingly. I've only ever heard of one other natural legilimens... Ariana Dumbledore. The reason people called her insane was that they were scared of her, especially those in the wizarding world. That's why the ministry didn't step in to help when she was being harassed by the muggles. No one could explain what was happening so they labeled her a freak and washed their hands of her."
"That's awful." Draco said mostly to himself as Snape continued.
"I've always wondered why Albus shared the truth about Ariana with me, and now I know. He knew about Luna all along, and I can bet you he made special arrangements to keep her from suffering the same fate as his beloved sister." The portrait was once again lost in thought.
"So, if Luna is a natural legilimens, does that means she knows everything about everyone?" Draco asked, his voice low with anxiety.
"No, I don't think so. The way Dumbledore described it to me was that a natural legilimens has certain triggers. Certain emotional "currents" if you will that they are able to pick up on. For Ariana, they were others' excitement or guilt. It is impossible for me to know what Luna's triggers are, but given that she knows about our secret, I'd say deception is likely an option, but its possible that learning the secret was a side effect of a different trigger." Snape raised his eyebrows at Draco, hoping the boy would catch his drift.
He wasn't the second in his class for nothing. Draco did in fact know what his godfather was implying. "You think maybe she found out about the secret because she sensed my love for Hermione."
The portrait simply winked and nodded to the bedroom door opening above them.
