Chapter Three

Hello. Another chapter for your perusal. Lots and lots of dramione interaction to be had here. Voila. Enjoy. JKR is as always the owner and proprietor. I borrow.

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The next time she came to see him, Draco was much better prepared. He had survived that first heart-stopping meeting with her. He had managed to sit through it with relative poise and dignity, succumbing to very little grovelling, despite the insistent urge he felt within him to just drop to his knees and beg for her help. All in all he was quite pleased with himself. He was pretty sure he hadn't come across as some kind of deranged psychopath. That was a positive start, right? Considering the history between them it could only continue to go uphill. Calling her filthy names and insulting her intelligence, manners and looks weren't the best foundation to work with, but he was determined to make sure she put all that behind them and saw him for who he was today.

He still wasn't entirely clear about what exactly he wanted from her. His mind was still coming to terms with his own panicked actions. Draco wasn't exactly known for his spontaneity. And surrendering to the Order was not something he'd planned thoroughly. It had just been a matter of the right timing. Timing and hope. The hope that he had nurtured deep inside him since the end of their fifth year at Hogwarts. At first he wasn't sure where the feeling of hope had come from. But maybe he had just been lying to himself, denying the reality of it all. It was all tied inexorably to Hermione Granger. A notion that he had barely thought possible before all this. But now he needed to hold onto the idea of her. He needed it like he needed oxygen. His sanity had been anchored to that one fleeting memory of her, bolstered by the feeling of strength he received when he impulsively took possession of that seemingly insignificant sapphire necklace.

Naturally, Draco had blamed everything and everyone he could for his discomforting obsession. Maybe she had cursed him or he was under some kind of spell. Or maybe, his soul cried out through the darkness of despair, it was merely the balm of human connection. He didn't know why this had plagued him. But he could admit one simple truth. That hope had kept him alive.

So when Hermione came to visit him for a second time, the very next day, he felt much more confident and in control of himself. That was, until she actually walked in the room. Then his gut wrenched with a spasm of anxiety and he suddenly found his mouth too dry to even say a simple greeting. He was sitting upright, with his legs swung over the side of the bed. He was still tethered to it, but he was comfortable and much more at ease. Except for the fact that every muscle in his body tensed up when he saw her brown curls enter the room. He may as well be strapped inhumanely into that damn chair again, since he was now frozen with no apparent ability for speech or movement.

Why does Granger affect me like this? He pondered wryly as she settled herself into a chair next to the bed, her body language tense but determined. He squirmed subtly on the mattress, straightening his posture to make himself seem more outwardly composed. But inside his pulse was racing so fast he could hear it pounding in his eardrums. She offered him a small, nervous smile, but her jaw was just a tad strained. A muscle twitched in her cheek.

They made for a strange pair, both not willing to break the silence and be the first to speak. He didn't waste the time, though. Draco watched her closely as he waited, his gaze so intent he could see her prickle self-consciously. Granger had never been particularly attractive in their younger years. No one could have really called her beautiful. But what had seemed gawky or clumsy in youth suited her quite well now. The hair that was once a wavy, unkempt halo bursting out from her bony frame now appeared voluminous and softer than silk. Maybe it was the length that had altered it so. It had been shorter back then, but she had grown it out long and the weight of it dragged it down into thicker, rounder curls. As a child, her teeth had also been large and bucked forwards in her mouth, but as her body changed through adolescence, her smile had become charming, instead of awkward. Although he suspected magic was also involved. And there was simply no denying the gradual emergence of a womanly figure, perfectly soft skin or the refreshing prettiness of a face untainted by make-up.

And yet none of these things were what made her really striking today. In truth, it was her eyes. Those soulful, impossibly deep brown eyes that reflected a fierce intellect. Draco had been attracted to many gorgeous, but dim-witted and vapid girls in his youth. But now he had to admit to himself that raw intelligence was actually unexpectedly sexy. And that wasn't the only thing made her eyes so fascinating. It was the way that her dauntingly sharp stare was softened by the weight of her compassion. The kindness she expressed in every minute flicker of her gaze took his breath away.

These were all things he had first started to realise back at the end of their fifth year. When they had broken all those barriers down between them for one foolish, surreal moment. The feeling had only grown since then – not that she had any clue how deeply that night had affected him. And now, sitting in front of her so close he could touch her if he lifted his hand, the feeling was stronger than it had ever been before.

It was this that roused him to speak, to actually be open with her for only the second time in his pitiful life.

"Thank you for helping me yesterday."

Granger seemed surprised by his opening words. She cocked her head to one side in mild confusion.

"I didn't do anything," she retorted, causing him to smile indulgently.

"You did. You treated me like a human being. It's been… a long time since I have been spoken to with any kindness."

Her confusion quickly morphed to shock, no doubt taken aback by his rather frank manner and confession. He smirked.

"I have surprised you," he murmured, raising one eyebrow questioningly.

"No," she disagreed softly, leaning forward to rest her chin on her palm, "I'm not surprised. The Death Eaters aren't exactly renowned for being tender hearted, are they? But I do feel…" she sighed, as if contemplating the right label for her emotions. She frowned and finally settled on an answer, "I feel uneasy about it. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you."

Draco decided to brush the topic to one side for now. He wasn't exactly ready to recount his experiences yet. They were too fresh. He was genuinely worried he would fall apart completely if he started remembering, started sharing it with her.

"Did you get in trouble?" he asked instead.

Granger shrugged lightly.

"Not exactly. I did start to hear the predictable lectures about our safety and whether or not we can trust you… but I just told them to get over it. They may not like it, but you're here now, and I refuse to let anyone treat you with cruelty. We should be better than that."

Draco considered her words carefully, wondering what it was about Hermione Granger that shone through every speck of her soul like a beam of warm light. It was like the feeling of every hair on every inch of his body warming by a crackling fire, thawing away the iciness of despair.

"Do you trust me?" he asked curiously. But she quickly gave him a rather direct, impertinent look, raising one eyebrow challengingly.

"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. You haven't given me any reason to trust you yet."

"Yet?"

"There's a vague possibility, I suppose. I wouldn't want to rule it out in the future."

Draco smirked.

"Then why care so much about how I'm treated now?"

"Because it's who I am."

Her response was so simple and so direct, that he was a bit stunned. Years ago he would have sneered at her Gryffindor sentimentality. But now he couldn't help but respect her.

"Then I will have to endeavour to earn your trust, to repay you for your kindness."

Granger frowned, tapping her foot nervously.

"You don't owe me anything, Malfoy"

"Let's agree to disagree."

The curly haired witch pursed her lips, observing him carefully for a long time before she flicked her wand surreptitiously and a pot of tea appeared on the bedside table between them. Still darting her eyes up to regard him every now and then, she poured two cups of tea. She pushed one towards him and he took it gratefully. The first sip scalded his tongue a bit, but it was a welcome sensation. He wasn't sure when he'd last enjoyed a cup of tea. It seemed like a luxury from the distant past.

"Will you tell me why you decided to surrender to the Order?" she asked quietly after a brief pause, drinking from her own cup. Draco sighed. He stayed silent for a very long time contemplating the question. So long that she started to squirm impatiently. Of course she had opened with the same difficult question, typical bossy Gryffindor. At least this time he felt slightly more braced and ready to answer it.

"I didn't have a choice," he finally admitted in a soft voice, "I felt…trapped. Although to be honest I didn't really fully think it through. Until that moment I'm not sure I actually intended to give myself up."

"You weren't planning to do it?"

Draco snorted with a slightly contemptuous expression.

"And end up here? Hell no. But I didn't exactly have many options."

"What do you mean?"

"The way I saw it, I had three choices. Stay there and die. Run away and die. Or try and find some kind of protection, but probably still die anyway. At least the third option had a slim chance of success."

Granger bit gently into her bottom lip as she considered him.

"I never knew you were such a cynic."

"No, Granger, I'm a realist."

She released a slow breath and shifted forwards in her seat. Her gaze was intent and shiver inducing.

"You seem to think that if you stayed with the Death Eaters, you would die. Do you really believe the Order of the Phoenix would have killed you in that battle or maybe even the next one?"

Draco shuddered a bit at the thought of opening this door, of talking about his fears. But he knew he had chosen to go down this road, and he also knew Granger had impeccable integrity and discretion. She might not be able to trust him yet, but he could trust her implicitly.

"I wasn't talking about the Order killing me. I can hold my own. But if I had stayed, it was only a matter of time before a Death Eater or even the Dark Lord himself finally got rid of me."

Granger reeled back in shock.

"What? Why would they kill one of their own?"

"Because I wasn't one of them. I thought I could tolerate it. I thought it might even finally make my father proud of me if I just tried... But I never wanted to hurt anyone."

"And for that they'd kill you?"

Draco snorted a bit fatalistically, his eyes turning haunted.

"If you're not with them, then you're against them."

"That's horrific…"

"You have no idea."

Granger actually looked a little bit sick at the thought. Draco sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He drained his teacup in one more sip.

"Every time I refused to torture someone or kill a random muggle when I was ordered to, every time I chickened out of something or even hesitated, it became worse. The punishments for being weak were…" he paused and swallowed, choking slightly on the words and on the memories associated with them.

"They hurt you?" she asked in a hushed voice, as if afraid to discuss it aloud at all. Draco nodded, rubbing the back of his neck absently, "Oh Malfoy, what did they do to you?" Her face was filled with pity, eyes more impossibly deep and pained than he had ever seen them before. It gave him confidence to continue.

"It varied, depending on who was displeased with me."

"Who…?" she began, but he interrupted.

"Bellatrix is very fond of the Cruciatus curse. It doesn't leave a mark and she enjoys the screams. If I didn't torture them, she tortured me. That was her policy. My fath…Lucius on the other hand doesn't like getting his hands dirty. He would just chain me up and starve me if I was being ungrateful as he put it. Or he'd leave me trapped in a room with Fenrir Greyback-" Draco's skin crawled and he felt the familiar lurching in his gut.

"The werewolf…?"

"Yes. He didn't touch me of course. But I had to watch…awful things."

Draco blanched and fell silent. He couldn't go on any more. He felt a bit sweaty and he was trembling. He balled up his hands into fists to hide it. Granger looked disgusted. There was a deep crease in her forehead between her eyebrows and he watched her visibly swallow as she processed the information.

"Did Vo…You Know Who punish you because you didn't kill Professor Dumbledore?"

Draco's heart skipped.

"Yes. But…please don't ask me to talk about that. I can't," he begged quietly, and she nodded very quickly to placate him.

"I won't. You don't have to say or do anything you don't want to, Malfoy."

"Thank you."

"Okay, I get it. Clearly you had to escape… but why not just run away?"

Draco shifted awkwardly on the small mattress. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to block out the memory pressing insistently on his mind of watching Karkaroff being paraded in front of them, tied and bleeding…

"No. He always finds them. Always."

Granger nodded slowly, watching him warily but he could see the mollification in her gaze too, reassuring him that she wouldn't press for details. It was clear that he didn't want to discuss it. He wasn't quite ready.

"So that brought you…here."

"Yes. At least he can't find me here. For now. He may even think I was captured during the fight. I didn't reveal my intentions to anyone."

The curly haired witch looked distinctly unsettled by the whole thing. She chewed on her lip nervously and was twisting her fingers together. It was actually pretty adorable the way he could see the thoughts whirring through her head at a fast pace. The way her nose crinkled slightly as she contemplated him. She didn't even realise how much emotion she expressed on her face. She was an open book.

"That still doesn't explain… I mean… why not just talk to Remus or Kingsley? Why stay quiet? You could have just explained this to them."

Draco snorted.

"Would they have believed me?"

"Of cour—okay, maybe not," she changed her mind mid-sentence, her cheeks flushing with something that resembled guilt or embarrassment. The pink cheeks made her look almost sweet, but so very vulnerable. She continued, "But I don't see the point in not even trying to vindicate yourself."

He sighed and pointed angrily towards the door.

"Those people out there hate me. And with good reason. I was a spiteful little shit to most of them. And believe it or not I still despise every single one of them. The feeling is most definitely mutual. They don't want to believe that I could either need asylum, or that I would be worthy of it. I'm a Death Eater. And the son of Lucius fucking Malfoy. I can't be trusted, remember?"

"And what about me?" Granger argued, her cheeks flushing as she set her brow in a scowl of stubborn determination, "You were nastier to me than you were towards any of those people. I have absolutely no reason to think well of you either. So why talk to me?"

Draco grit his teeth and frowned sternly at her.

"You know why."

She blinked a few times, shaking her head in denial, though he wasn't convinced she was that naïve. He sighed, forcing himself to be patient and leaned forwards to rest his elbows on his knees, bringing him closer to her. So close her scent washed over him in a dizzying rush. Lavender and honey.

"Granger, you're not stupid. You know why I wanted to see you. Don't you remember? This is not the first time we've spoken like this."

Granger blushed prettily, darting her head down so that her hair fell slightly to cover her face. She gnawed on her bottom lip until it turned a dark red. Then she looked back up at him. This time her eyes held a challenge in them.

"Even so…I'm just a filthy mudblood, right?"

Draco physically stopped himself from wincing. He knew it would come back to haunt him. But whether he liked it or not, he had believed it all once upon a time. He had looked down on her. He had scorned and belittled her because of her blood status. Because she was smart and powerful and he had hated her for it. He cleared his throat when he felt an uncomfortable lump resting there. He maintained eye contact as evenly as he could.

"After everything…I don't think it really matters to me anymore. I'm tired of being such a prat, tired of being filled with so much hatred."

Contrary to what he expected, Granger actually glared at him, straightening her spine and looking intensely disappointed.

"So that's it? You didn't change your opinion of me because you realised it was wrong, you just grew tired of it?"

Draco stared at her in shock, not understanding how he could have phrased it so poorly to give her this impression.

"No…I didn't… I mean, of course I…"

"And did you think that by acting as if you accept a muggleborn, you might be more likely to convince the Order to help you?"

"No!"

"You said you were merely tired of being cruel, not actually remorseful."

Draco blindly reached out and grabbed her hand as she made to push off her chair and stand up. Feeling his touch on her skin made her freeze, however, and she stayed sitting in front of him, her eyes accusing and wild. Draco barely registered the action or what had made him do it. He just needed to get through to her.

"I was a fool, Granger. I still feel totally humiliated by even the faintest memory of how I treated you at school. I let me father's prejudices influence me, and let my own cowardly ego get hurt by your ability to beat me in every bloody thing. I was a stupid child and a wanker. I stopped actually thinking and feeling that way a long time ago. I merely got tired of pretending."

Granger seemed slightly pacified by his words. He was still touching her forearm and he could feel her muscles relaxing somewhat from when she had tensed.

"What do you mean you were pretending?"

He sighed and stared down at where their skin connected, not willing to remove his hand even though it was slightly awkward.

"That last year…I was surrounded by Death Eaters at home and the children of Death Eaters at school, Granger. It didn't matter what I thought. Only how I acted."

"When did you start to change your mind?" she queried curiously.

"At the end of fifth year," he confessed in a voice so quiet she had to cock her head to the side to hear him, "Sometime during that night."

She shook her head numbly.

"I didn't realise, Malfoy... I thought that night… Well, I thought you'd just gone mad."

"Maybe I had," he said with a slight smirk.

Before Granger could articulate how she felt about that particular revelation, there was a familiar rusty creaking sound as the key turned in the door. A vibration of magic rippled over the room as the wards collapsed, and then the door was opening with a groaning creak. Although Draco didn't move an inch at the sound, Granger hurriedly pulled back from where he was still touching her arm. His hand dropped uselessly as he saw her nervously lick her lips and turn to greet their intruder. Draco personally could have cursed whoever it was if he'd had his wand.

Luckily for them it was Minerva McGonagall. The old head of Gryffindor house was the only one out of this damn Order lot to show him any mercy. She had brought him food once or twice, probably behind their backs. It was only a shame she wasn't in charge instead of that fucking werewolf. He loathed that simpering, smug git. The man hadn't held a candle to Snape in teaching Defence.

"Hermione-" she murmured softly, coming to stand in the room completely and closing the door behind her, "I just thought I'd warn you to wrap things up. Remus and Kingsley said they want to… uh… limit your exposure to the Death Eater I believe was the phrase they used."

Granger groaned and rolled her eyes.

"What do they think is going to happen exactly? He'll break free, and then kill us all with the sharp side of a piece of broken teapot? He doesn't have a bloody wand! And I doubt he means to escape anyway."

Minerva smiled at her former student, looking slightly proud of the younger woman.

"Actually I think that is exactly what they fear. I admit they are being a tad over zealous."

"A tad?" she snorted in disbelief. Draco's lip twitched in the beginnings of a smile, but he tamped down the urge. McGonagall turned her gaze across to him and gave him a shrewd, doubtful look.

"Are you hungry, Mister Malfoy?" she asked sternly but calmly. Draco wasn't sure what was stopping him this time, but he didn't answer, remaining silent. His eyes flickered over to Granger, wondering whether he could get away with only interacting with her. He didn't want to give the impression that he was suddenly open for communication with every bloody person here. He only wanted her. McGonagall raised a sceptical eyebrow as Granger turned to look at him with a wry smile.

"Really? Back to silence? I thought the damn had broken now…"

Draco gave her a dark, meaningful look and she shrugged and nodded with a sigh of forced patience. "Fine. Yes, I daresay he is hungry. I'll charm some food up here after lunch."

"So he did actually talk to you, did he?"

Granger snorted mockingly.

"Oh yes. It was getting him to talk sense that was the hard part."

Draco glared at her but she just gave him an innocent grin in return.

"And do you think he poses any danger, Hermione?"

Minerva watched the two of them carefully as the curly haired witch let out a breath and considered him quietly for a moment.

"I don't see any reason to keep him tied up, as long as the room is warded and he has no wand," she explained with a casual confident that warmed him. She was certainly starting to trust him already, regardless of her earlier hesitation.

"You think he is sincere?"

"Not at all. I think he's an arrogant prat, actually. But despite this, I believe he does need our help."

McGonagall chuckled at her joke, and although Draco felt a wry appreciation of her willingness to tease him, outwardly he tried to appear just as icy as she described. The Head of Gryffindor had actually always treated him fairly at school, despite him being a colossal snob, but he still wasn't prepared to let down his guard with anyone these days. He had been hurt too deeply already. Granger was the only extraordinarily unique exception to that rule. She turned to him now and gave him a wry little smile, tinged with a hint of regret.

"I'll come back as soon as I can… or at least as soon as certain people pull their heads out of their arses, anyway."

"Hermione-"

"Right, sorry Profess…er…Minerva."

Draco's lips did twitch then, and he was sure the older woman had noticed. Her eyes darted between her two former students, and he quickly responded by turning his face to stare blankly at the wall, shutting them both out. He hated anyone seeing him vulnerable, but even more he hated anyone intruding on this precious time with Granger. He was supposed to be figuring out his sense of connection to her, not parading his confused feelings around for the rest of the damn wizarding world. He distantly heard Granger sigh, but he steadfastly kept his gaze turned away.

"Well…goodbye for now."

He didn't reply, and she didn't seem to except any because seconds later the door shut firmly and all sound from outside was once again muffled. Draco sighed and closed his eyes. Today had been…revealing. He had known that talking to her would evoke all those strange emotions and thoughts all over again, even though many months had passed. But he was surprised by the intensity of his reaction. It was like hope had sprouted its wings wide and was taking its first flight into the unknown.

….

End of another chapter. A seriously large amount of conversation in this one. Dialogue is painful to write. Actually painful. My fingertips hurt. What do you think about his feelings so far? And what exactly happened at the end of their fifth year? Please review, cheers!