Next chapter! Also, ten reviews on Chapter 20? You guys are spoiling me :P special thanks go to kvance, resina, LovelyAshes, briallyson94, Ariel, 4littlemckay, InsaniumArtisan, bluebook1496, Maria Sven and harrypottergeekychick16 for the reviews, I really appreciate you taking the time to share your opinions :) as always, please don't be shy to review, I love teh feedbacks. Hope you enjoy the chapter!
"No, you're saying it wrong. Put the stress on the 'Vi', right at the beginning. And aim for the glass this time or it'll get in my hair."
"Vinumvenite!"
A long stream of blood-red wine shot out of the end of Draco's wand. Hermione barely had time to register the smirk playing around his mouth when it hit her in the face.
"Hey!"
He grinned at her and she stuck her tongue out. She licked the wine off her lips; it tasted very strongly of vinegar.
Hermione and Draco were in the Room of Requirement. She had been astonished to find that it still worked after Crabbe's Fiendfyre Spell, but after three times passing the blank patch of wall on the seventh floor corridor, a door had appeared, just as it always had. The Room had stretched itself into a large, spacious classroom with books lining the walls, and an expansive cupboard at the very back that contained anything from crystal glasses to boxes of live mice. Large cushions lay around the room for practising Stunning Spells, and in the centre of the room was a large, wooden desk with a chair on either side. Hermione and Draco had sat down facing each other, and now she was attempting to teach him how to conjure wine into a crystal goblet that was about the size of a small bucket.
Hermione wiped the last drops of vinegary wine off her cheeks and tried to glare at Draco. It didn't work – he was grinning at her and she could feel her resolve cracking.
"That tasted awful," she said, flicking wine at him.
"No, it didn't," said Draco, still smirking, "we Malfoys are famous wine connoisseurs. You probably just have awful taste, Granger."
She snorted with laughter. "That doesn't mean you're any good at making the stuff, does it? That tasted like vinegar!"
Draco raised his eyebrows and pointed his wand into the enormous crystal glass that sat between them.
"Vinumvenite!"
At once, the glass filled with deep red wine. Draco picked it up and took a large mouthful.
She could see him gagging.
He forced himself to swallow it – she could see him wincing in disgust – and then muttered "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh come on! It's awful and you know it. I can see you retching!"
"Well, you try it, if you're so good at it!"
She smirked right back at him and vanished the last of the wine, then refilled it with her own wand. She raised the glass in a little toast – Draco fought back a grin – and drank.
It was incredibly strong.
It didn't taste bad at all. At first all she could taste was something sweet, almost flowery, but then the alcohol kicked in. It burned down her throat and made her eyes water, and she almost dropped the crystal goblet on the floor.
"Told you," smirked Draco.
Hermione tried to glare at him. Her constant coughing and watering eyes must have diminished the effect of her icy stare, because Draco just grinned at her.
"It's very strong," she spluttered.
Draco raised his eyebrows, and before she could stop him he reached out and took the glass from her. He took another hearty gulp, swallowed, and let out a breathless wheeze, his eyes streaming.
"Damn, Granger! What's in that?"
She shrugged. "Magic, I suppose."
She took another sip, and spent several minutes blinking rapidly while she tried to pin down the taste.
"And maybe strawberries."
Draco rolled his eyes. "You'll need an expert for this. Give it here."
He took another mouthful and coughed loudly.
"Alcohol," he said, decisively, "lots and lots of alcohol."
Hermione snorted with laughter. Her head was beginning to feel a little fuzzy.
"I think we'd better call it a night," she said, the wine still burning down her throat, "I don't think I'll be much good like this."
Draco nodded. "Fair enough. Do you want to stay for a bit and finish off the wine? It isn't that bad. Seems like a waste just to leave it."
She smiled, and nodded.
An hour later, they were down to the last third of the glass and the pair of them were giggling uncontrollably. Draco had just told her a joke they'd both heard twice before, but the strong drink had transformed it into fine comedy.
Draco looked into the goblet and groaned loudly.
"There's so much of it left! Drink it, Hermione, and put me out of my misery!"
He passed her the cup and she took another sip, still giggling. It burned her tongue.
"You know, you are actually surprisingly nice," she said, handing over the cup. His fingers brushed hers as he took it, and she blushed.
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Surprisingly nice! I'll have you know that I am a joy to be around, Granger. An absolute delight."
"See, that's what I don't get," she said, resisting the urge to let her head slump onto the table. "If we take it as a given that you are – what was it?"
"A joy to be around, an absolute delight, lovelier than a Veela's –"
"– well, lovely," she said, grinning, "then why are you getting all those letters?"
Draco shrugged and took another drink. "No clue. Didn't get any over Christmas, though, so whoever's sending them has got a sense of festive cheer."
"Or they're someone in the castle. And if they didn't send them to you at home, they're probably someone who can't perform a curse complex enough to survive the post."
Draco shrugged. Hermione leaned forward.
"Look, you're probably looking for someone who's got hold of some Polyjuice Potion and is getting into the Slytherin Common Room. And they're probably someone who isn't great at advanced spellwork. Someone like that would definitely leave a trace on the envelope, all you'd have to do is take it to McGonagall and then –"
"I don't want to take it to McGonagall!" he snapped.
"You don't like getting these letters, do you?"
He ran a hand through his fine, blond hair and stared down at the desk. "I should never have told you about this in the first place; I knew you wouldn't understand!"
Her fists clenched. Anger flared up inside her. "What is there to understand? Someone's threatening you!"
"And with good reason!" he shouted, jumping to his feet, "you don't know the things I've done, Hermione, you don't know what's happened…"
"Don't I?"
He rounded on her. "No, you don't! You know what I was doing this time last year! I was standing watch outside the Khongs' house! I stood there all night long while the rest of them went inside and…and…"
She froze. Draco was standing in the middle of the room, his fists tightly clenched, staring down at the carpet.
She knew what had happened to the Khongs. They had been murdered. Both Persephone Khong's parents, her elderly aunt and her five-year-old brother had been torn to shreds by Fenrir Greyback. It wasn't even a full moon at the time, and both Draco and his father had been identified at the scene.
"My father sent me outside when we got there," Draco whispered, "he made me stand guard. He wouldn't let me go inside, not until it was over. I…I heard them screaming, Hermione."
"Draco…"
She got up, went over to him, and put her arms around him. He stood perfectly still, every muscle in his body filled with tension, as though she hadn't even touched him at all.
"I let that happen, Hermione. I could have stopped them, but I didn't."
She did not move. For a moment they just stood there in silence, and then, dragging up the words from somewhere deep inside her, Hermione began to speak.
"You didn't kill them, Draco. I know it must feel like it, but you didn't do it. I think…I think there are moments in everybody's life when they're…well, when they're too weak to stand up for what's right, and those moments aren't something to be proud of. All you can do is try and be a better person, so that when the next moment comes around, you'll know what to do. It won't be easy, but you'll get there."
A little of the tension eased out of his stiff arms, and she looked up at him. He was gazing down at her, his mouth slightly open and his grey eyes wide.
"I know you'll get there."
He stared down at her. They were so close that Hermione was certain that he could feel her heart twitching against her skin. Slowly, he put his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest in an embrace so gentle that for a moment, she could hardly believe he was the same man who'd been to the Khongs' house one year before.
She could feel his hands on her back. They were warm and strong.
He whispered in her ear. His breath tickled the back of her neck and sent shivers running down her spine.
"Thank you, Hermione."