Disclaimer: Not mine, never been mine. I'm not making a single knut.
"Merlin's cuticle, woman!" Snape snapped in exasperation at Hermione. "You're barking mad, I swear it."
"Oh come ON! You're going to tell me that you don't see the comparison between the two?" Hermione shot back.
It was now almost two weeks into December; almost a full month had passed since the Charlie/Diagon Alley incident. No new letter had come from Lucius, so he was either plotting something or his spy had a lot of homework and couldn't be bothered. Hermione had noticed some tension in the air when she had arrived for her one-on-one potions lesson after the night she had the dream. She didn't know why he was so tense; she was the one who couldn't stop thinking about her professor. After that day, however, they seemed to melt back into a routine and even started getting back the almost familiarity they had shared during the long hours working together during the war. He started scheduling lessons often, instead of just once or twice a week.
Frequently she would stay even after her lesson and assist on potions for the Hospital Wing and such. Usually during these times, they would discuss random topics. Both hated small talk, but they never had a shortage of discussion topics. Normally, one topic would somehow merge into another topic, many times resulting in the pair facing off and they would spar with the other.
Today was no different. She was there during a free period. After this, she would have Transfiguration, and then dinner. Upon discussing how useful rudimentary potion making knowledge is for any witch or wizard to know, Hermione had gone on to compare it with cooking, where-by Snape had thought her daft.
"I suppose I could see that they both involve ingredients and stirring, but not much more," Snape replied, and went back to his potion.
"There's so much more than that, though! The timing and measuring; the passion-," Hermione was cut off by Snape giving a large snort. "And what, may I ask, is funny?"
"I find it funny that you can even think to compare the passion it takes to brew potions with making a cake," Snape said idly, concentrating on stirring perfect figure 8's in his potion. "For you to even call it passion is almost offensive."
"It is! It's just like your passion for brewing. People are passionate about different things, you know. Just because you can't make a cake…," Hermione mumbled.
"Trust me, Hermione, I can bake. And cook. I didn't always have house elves running around. You misunderstand me. I don't doubt that people have a passion for cooking; quite the contrary. But being a Potion's Master is a different kind of passion. You throw around words because they sound expressive without thinking of what they truly mean. You don't know passion for potions," he told her.
"Excuse me, but I think I know what the word passion means. And I know what a passion for potions is like. It may not be as strong as yours, but I love it. And I'm excellent at it," she shot back heatedly.
"No, Hermione, you're not," Snape said, finally laying down his ladle he had been stirring with and looking at her. "You exceed at them, sure. You're advanced in them, yes. But excellent? I don't think so."
"And what is it that I do wrong? I follow the recipes, I logically deduce what needs to be done, I refuse to make mistakes-"
"And therein lays the problem. You don't give yourself over to the art. You attempt to dictate a potion and force it into being, but a potion is what you put into it. A Draught of Living Death made by you compared to one made by me would effect a person differently, and mine would work better," Snape told her, walking around to her table. "I've made mistakes; I have the burn marks and scars to prove it. I've created batches and batches of worthless liquids, spent too many galleons, and thrown them all away when they didn't produce the results I had wanted. I've lived and breathed potions. I've literally put my blood, sweat, and tears into potions. Potion making has both dictated and ruined my life…and it has also saved it. I have thrown every bit of my life into brewing."
Snape seemed to be lost in thought as he gazed into Hermione's cauldron, and started adding ingredients to it almost mechanically. Hermione just watched.
"I have memorized how certain spirals of steam rise off of a potion. I've mixed ingredients that created power, and I've mixed together destruction. I have seen potions made by my hands extend life, and I have seen them bring death. How many cakes have you made to do that?" Snape finished his speech and walked back to his table.
Hermione looked down at her cauldron and realized that he had finished her Pepper-Up potion and that it looked better than she had ever made.
"You're obviously bright, Hermione. Honestly, I think you just have too much muggle in you," Snape said, already concentrating on his potion.
"I know," Hermione said miserably. "I've tried working on that. But you don't understand how it feels to not belong in either world. I never felt right as a muggle, even when I was a child. When I got my letter, I was overjoyed; finally I knew the truth and I wasn't some freak. I was going to be going to school with kids like me. But I've never felt quite right here either. For a muggleborn, there is no home. It's true that I've felt the most at home here, but there's still so much that's foreign to me."
"You just have to make due. And I think I can relate to feeling like an outsider more than you know, even if not on the same level as you," Snape replied. At her raised eyebrow, he elaborated: "Hermione, I'm an ex-Death Eater. When has that ever been alright in a social circle?"
She started laughing. "Yeah, I suppose that would make it difficult."
"Exceedingly."
"Sometimes the muggle portion of my brain comes in handy, though," Hermione pointed out.
"Oh, I don't doubt it. Your problem is that you think like a muggle living in a wizarding world, instead of a witch in a wizarding world that just happens to have knowledge of muggles. You need to find a middle ground. I seem to recall your logic coming in handy during your first year," he told her.
Hermione laughed at the memory of the logic puzzle Snape had devised during the trek to the Sorcerer's Stone.
"I had almost forgotten about that! So many crazy things happened that year," she said, still smiling widely.
"You owe me a cloak, by the way," he said idly, adding powdered centaur hoof to his potion, the corners of his mouth tilting up slightly.
"Oh my god, I forgot about the fire! I'm sorry!" she laughed.
"A little late now, but it's better than nothing."
"Well, I did think you were trying to off one of my only friends, so that's my defense."
"Yes, I seem to remember your friends were obsessed with thinking I wanted them both dead," Snape said non-concernedly as he peered into his cauldron once more.
"You didn't exactly give them reason to believe otherwise," she laughed. "I remember during our first year when you refereed a match, Harry was considering not going to it. Ron told him to pretend to break his leg so he could get out of it." Her face held a wistful look as she remembered.
"That was a horrible suggestion; Madam Promfrey would have been able to set him right in a matter of seconds," Snape replied, peering at her over his cauldron and cocking an eyebrow.
"Yes, well, we weren't thinking clearly. Finally, we just told him to grab the snitch as fast as he could, without regard for points, before you could either kill him or penalize him."
"I seem to recall he had no problem finding it quickly," Snape drawled, looking bored.
She started cooling her potion and getting the bottles ready. "No, he rarely ever had problems catching it. He's very talented. He rarely lost a game."
"I'm sure I remember him losing to the Hufflepuffs of all teams," he said, looking up at her with amusement in his eyes.
"That's because he fell off his broom thanks to the Dementors, as you know full well. At least he never grabbed onto someone's broom tail to hold them back from the snitch like your precious Slytherins," she shot back.
"Don't blame my whole house because Draco was a little snot rag. Not everyone in Slytherin is bad," he told her as he worked on his potion, and then paused as he heard her snort. "What's so funny?"
"You are. Trying to defend them. You do remember you don't have to anymore, right?" she laughed as she started ladling out correct doses into bottles.
Snape stood up straight and narrowed his eyes at her. "You think I'm defending them because I have to?" he asked in a low voice, all amusement in his eyes gone.
His tone of voice made her look up, her smile fading. "Well, yes. I thought that's what you had said before the year started, after Voldemort was killed."
"You were mistaken then. I simply meant that I was free from any obligation that made me favor the students of Death Eaters, and favor my House in general as the Dark Lord thought was only fitting. However, they are still my students and I will still defend them," he told her, still glaring at her.
"I didn't mean-," she began but was cut off.
"Save it, Hermione. I know only too well of what people like you think of the House of Slytherin. Don't attempt to defend yourself," he said, going back to his potion.
"People…like me?" she sputtered. "What the hell does that mean?"
"It means that you're driven by ignorance and conformity," he stated simply, still not paying attention to her.
"Excuse you! That is very far from the truth! How dare you presume to judge me?" She threw her ladle onto the work surface.
"You believe every Slytherin is evil, that's how I presume," he said.
"Well, look at the lot of them!"
Snape stood straight up at this comment, and set his ladle down as well, albeit more gently.
"Ms. Granger, I assumed you were better than that."
"Well it's true!" she said, becoming defensive. "Look at Voldemort! What house was he in? Or Bellatrix Lestrange? Lucius Malfoy?-"
"Draco Malfoy. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Severus Snape," Snape cut in, speaking in the low voice that always preceded danger.
"Wow, you found three people that are good."
"A single person can tip the scales, Hermione." When she rolled her eyes, he continued. "How well would your fifth year have gone without Kingsley being on our side and helping in the ministry? He also brought us Tonks. How would Mr. Potter have been now, after the battle is over, never coming to terms with himself because Draco wasn't around to help him? And where exactly would the whole side of the Light be without the information I passed from the Dark Lord's own inner circle?"
Hermione opened her mouth to retort but Snape wasn't finished.
"Or, how about your own Mr. Potter's life? His parents would still be alive if not for Voldemort, yes? That is what drove him for so long, was it not? And I've heard Hagrid say many times that there's 'not a witch or wizard who went bad that wasn't in Slytherin', correct? But how would Voldemort have ever known where to find his parents if not for Peter Pettigrew?" Hermione's face paled slightly and he grinned in triumph. "He may just be one person, but he single handedly paved the rough road for your best friend. He fed the Dark Lord information from the Order, gave away Harry's parents' position, helped keep his inhuman form alive, and in your fourth year I seem to remember some minor event including the Dark Lord rising again, aided by Mr. Wormtail. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't he in Gryffindor?"
Hermione just glared at her professor.
"You, like many others, judge on the main events instead of realizing that they are just chunks of time. Adolf Hitler, for example, has made it so that now many people ONLY think of the Holocaust when they think of Germany, even though he was Austrian. It is a huge black mark on Germany's record, not only as a country, but as a people. You see a German and you think Nazi. I, on the other hand, live in Germany during the summers and I find it spectacular. But what else would you expect from a Slytherin such as me? Slytherins and Nazis go hand in hand according to your lot don't they?"
"You lot?"
"Honestly, Hermione, this repeating game of yours is getting old."
"If any of your Slytherins were halfway decent, maybe I COULD change my mind!" she shouted.
"How many Slytherin students aside from Draco do you know? And not as Head Girl 'knowing' the prefects," he asked. When she didn't answer, he continued. "As I thought. How many Slytherins were you ever friends with in your almost 8 years here?"
"That's not fair!" Hermione cut in. "How many of your precious students were friends with me?"
"Did you ever attempt to befriend them?"
"Why should I make the move to do it?" she asked, avoiding the question.
"Nice maneuvering. It didn't work, but I'll answer that question anyway. Slytherins are demonized from the start. Don't roll your eyes at me! They are. No Slytherin feels welcome except by other Slytherins because they are shunned by every other house from the moment the sorting hat yells SLYTHERIN. When you got your letter and started reading up on the houses, what did the traits for Slytherin house say?" he asked her.
"That the students chosen were normally those that sought power, and were cunning and ambitious," she said tight lipped.
"And that's a bad thing? No. It only became bad when you got on the train and asked around about the houses. The older students all had something to say, as well did the first years with older siblings. After that, power turned into greed. Cunning turned into sneaky rats. Ambitious turned into dark. By the time that train rolled into the Hogwarts station, which houses were you considering?"
"Gryffindor or Ravenclaw," Hermione said at once.
"Why?"
"Because Ravenclaws are intelligent and Gryffindors are brave," she said.
"Ah, intelligence and bravery are very admirable qualities, and obviously ONLY centered on those houses. Never mind that cunning is a synonym for clever, or that you're the brightest student at Hogwarts and not in Ravenclaw. Tell me, Hermione, do you plan on living off of your fame as a war hero for the rest of your life?"
Taken aback by the random question, Hermione answered honestly, "Of course not! I want to do something with my life!"
"And you were very brave during the battle, I must say. Some of those plans you created for our side were brilliant," he told her, taking a deliberate step from behind his table and towards hers.
"Thank you…?" Hermione wasn't sure where he was going with this, but didn't like the evil smirk on his face as he stalked closer.
"In short," he said softly, as he drew closer, "you're very ambitious. Your ambition and the way you demonstrated it shows how powerful you are and how powerful you can become. And those plans in the battle were very…cunning." He placed his hands on her table and leaned close to her. "Now, before you say anything further, ask yourself…are you sure you were sorted into the correct house?"
XXX
"Hey, 'Mione! Wait up!" said a voice from the side of Hermione.
She was on her way to dinner with Harry and Draco. She had holed herself in her room after class to replay the argument she had had with Snape that morning.
Hermione was angry. She was angry that he called her ignorant. She was angry that he based his opinion of her character as a whole off of one thing she said. Most of all, however, she was angry that he had a point; several points, actually. And it angered her that somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought he was right.
Looking around for the person that called her name, her eyes landed on Charlie Weasley. Fresh snow littered his red hair and jacket, and he was jogging over to where she was standing in the front hall.
Beside her, she felt Harry stiffen. He had still not come to easy terms with the older Weasley, and still maintained that he had a right to be suspicious. Charlie's eyes narrowed at the sight of her best friend as he drew near. He still felt like Harry owed him an apology and was suspicious of him. Hermione just thought the two of them were crazy.
"Hey Draco. Harry." Charlie said greeted as he neared. Harry acknowledged him with a curt nod, while Draco gave a half wave. "I like your hair like that, 'Mione. It's really pretty."
Hermione blushed as she put her hand on her perfect French braid. "Thank you," she said at the same time as Draco. Charlie lifted an eyebrow at this and Hermione just giggled.
When Draco had found her sulking in her bedroom, he had taken it upon himself to give her a small make-over. Not much, just some light make-up and did her hair. He said he remembered watching his mom do hers as he grew up and his mom would let him brush her hair and help her style it. As he did Hermione's hair, he finally coaxed her into talking and she recounted the entire conversation with their Professor earlier. Draco had just listened to her rant, and his face held traces of amusement in the reflection she stared at. At the end, he just shrugged and said that he agreed with his godfather and that she should try to view it from the eyes of a Slytherin, or just ask him any time she wanted to.
"Draco did it for me," she explained. "He did a great job though." Draco did a slight bow, and even Harry grinned and shoved his shoulder playfully.
"Yeah, he did. You look wonderful," Charlie said, ignoring Harry's eye roll.
"Thanks. So what's up?"
"Just got finished cleaning up from my last class, and wanted to catch you and ask if you wanted to maybe come have dinner with me tonight." Charlie smiled at a group of first year girls that had entered the hall and were taking their time to mosey to dinner, giggling and blushing, clearly enamored by the rugged looking professor.
"Oh! Well, I-" Hermione started and was cut off by Harry.
"Can't. Sorry. She's eating with us tonight, being that she's a student and students eat in the Great Hall with other students. And she's Head Girl. You would think you might remember that being a teacher here," he said.
"Watch it, Potter," Charlie said, glaring at Harry.
"Sorry, Professor," Harry shot back, smirking.
"Anyway, 'Mione, if you want to join me I would be honored," Charlie said, giving Hermione his most charming smile, making the first year girls still dawdling glare at her.
"It sounds wonderful, but I can't. We're having a study session right after dinner, and I want to dive right in. I'm sorry," Hermione told him.
Looking a bit crestfallen, Charlie gave her a small smile. "It's ok, maybe next time. I don't give up easily." More students were starting to trickle in through the hall.
"Maybe you should," Harry said.
"What was that?" Charlie shot at him.
"I said, maybe you should give up, Professor," Harry said in a low voice and went to take a step forward but Draco put his hand on his shoulder, restraining him.
"I don't think it's any of your business what 'Mione does in her personal life, Potter," Charlie answered just as low, eyes glinting maliciously.
"Both of you stop," Hermione said firmly, but they ignored her.
"I thought your mother taught you better than to go after a woman who's already taken. I know Ron never tried to come between relationships," Harry bit out, making Charlie pull up short; Harry never mentioned Ron casually. Before he could reply, however, another voice spoke.
"As much as it pains me to say this, I would have to agree with Mr. Potter," a deep baritone said softly next to them. They all turned their heads to see Snape standing by them with his arms crossed, sneering. He waved his wand and they all felt the muffliato spell take place.
"Do you have any idea the spectacle you're making?" Snape asked them. "If you want to argue, then at least have the intelligence to remember to put up protective charms! And Mister Weasely, Mr. Potter here is very correct and you should do well to remember to limit your flirting and invitations to Hermione. I won't warn you again," he finished, and waved his wand once more, disabling the charm.
He put his hand on the small of Hermione's back and led her away from her group of friends and into the Great Hall. She knew it was pointless to argue so she went along with the show. As they passed the new table she sat at, he stopped and pulled out her chair for her and waited until she sat down before walking to the staff table. Draco and Harry joined her moments later, and Charlie took his seat with the staff looking grumpy.
"I should've started hanging out with you two sooner; it's exciting," Draco said amusedly, reaching for his cup while Harry and Hermione glared at him. "But, Harry is right." Harry sat up a little straighter and his glare turned into something softer.
"Well, I think that Severus is right and we should've put up a charm, but Harry was just saying that to get Charlie away," Hermione said, waving her hand as she started putting food on her plate.
"No I didn't; I was serious, Hermione. He needs to stop," Harry told her, looking over Draco to talk to her.
"Harry's right, Hermione. It's dangerous for Charlie to be doing that," Draco said.
Hermione scoffed. "Dangerous? To flirt?"
"Yes, to flirt," Harry sneered at the word and cast a quick muffliato. "Isn't the crucial part of this plan that it be believable you and Snape are madly in love? That you two aren't held down by titles because your feelings are too deep?" –Draco faked gagging as he started putting food on his boyfriend's plate- "How is that supposed to fool anyone, especially Lucius and his spy if Charlie is trying to get in the middle and you're not doing anything about it?"
"Whoa, when did this become my fault?" Hermione said indignantly.
"No one said it's your fault, Hermione," Draco drawled. "However, it's true that you need to start acting up the doting girlfriend act. You're supposed to be with him because you two are a perfect match," –At this, it was Harry's turn to fake gag as he started digging into his food- "and you're supposed to be super mature so you can handle this love that you both know people won't accept. If you're going to flirt back with Charlie, or allow him to flirt with you, then you're allowing the school to see it and you know how rumors spread here. How many people do you think will be talking about the scene in the entrance hall by tomorrow?" Before she could angrily retort, he lifted the charm and started eating.
Hermione sat in her seat, sulking, while she picked at her food.
This sucks, she thought. Now, not only is my freedom being taken away, but I'm not even allowed to enjoy some flirting.
After about 15 or 20 minutes, however, her thoughts started to change. Draco and Harry had been studiously ignoring her the entire time, Harry warning Draco of her thinking face.
I suppose they have a point; I could be a bit more graceful about everything people are doing for me. She fingered her necklace thoughtfully. I really should be nicer. Severus, in particular, is giving up so much of his freedom as well; maybe even more than I am.
She glanced over to where her "boyfriend" sat, chatting quietly to Professor Flitwick and eating. He's had almost no freedom for so long…and he finally has a year to turn everything around for himself and he's roped into helping me. Here I am moaning about how I can't go to Hogsmeade alone or go have a dinner with Ron's brother, yet Severus is taking this all in stride and not even being put off.
Hermione had no idea she had been staring at Snape the entire time with a thoughtful look on her face until his eyes met hers, and he raised his eyebrow. Hermione blushed and looked away, only to raise her eyes to his once more. This time he gave her a slight smile, not a smirk, before he looked away and back to the other Professor.
Hermione felt a huge goofy smile overcome her face and looked back at her plate, suddenly hungry. She heard Draco give a slight, discreet cough to her left and she looked at him. Harry was still eating and looking at his plate, but she could tell he was paying attention. Draco was looking ahead out at the Hall as he picked up his goblet.
"So, while you were lovingly eyeing our Potions Master, did you come to the conclusion we were right?" he drawled before he took a sip, a smirk on his face. Harry snorted into his goulash, unable to help himself.
Straightening her spine, Hermione stiffly replied, "I've decided that your argument is sound and has merit, and I will consider it further."
"Is that the closest I'm going to get to an 'I'm sorry, I was wrong, and you were right'?" Draco asked, smirking at her.
"Basically. Be lucky you got that," Harry mumbled into his food, while Hermione leaned around Draco to glare at him, and Draco just laughed.
XXX
The next morning, the trio walked into breakfast talking about their plans for Christmas. Hermione, obviously, was staying in the castle. Both Draco & Harry decided they would be her friends and stay with her, but she waved them off.
Draco had been talking about spending the holidays at the house he shared with Snape in Germany, hedging around the idea of taking Harry with him. Hermione thought it was brilliant and told Harry to go enjoy himself for once.
They were still talking about it when the owls came streaming into the Hall. Reflexively, she glanced up to see if she could spot the hawk. What she saw instead were at least 5 different owls heading her way.
Wait; not her way. They were now landing in front of a bewildered Harry, with a grumpy Draco wrinkling his nose at the owl now stepping in his eggs.
"I'm surprised it took this long," Draco drawled, glaring at another owl when it tried to go for his bacon.
"What?" Hermione asked, but it seemed that Harry had already caught on. His face held just resignation and had an air about him of a man who wanted to get the worst over with.
Moving to the owl with the biggest burden, Harry unrolled his copy of The Daily Prophet. With Harry seated in the middle this time, it was easy for his two friends to lean over and see what was splashed across the front page.
The Boy-Who-Lived, GAY?
And you won't believe who the 'Chosen One' chose for his lover!
The Boy-Who-Lived, our Chosen one, defeater of Voldemort has come out of the proverbial closet, writes award-winning correspondent, Rita Skeeter.
The startling revelation was made almost a month ago in the middle of dinner at his school Hogwarts, where he bravely returned to finish his education even with the loss of his best friend.
"I'M GAY!" Harry Potter shouted for all to hear, startling everyone in the vicinity. It appeared he had been arguing with his new beau, none other than the son of notorious Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy.
Yes, that's right; the 'Chosen One' has chosen former school enemy, Draco Malfoy. No words yet on how Potter's 'adopted' family, the Weasleys, are taking this shock.
Almost everyone knows that Arthur Weasley had a grudge with Malfoy, Sr. for years, as well as their only daughter, Ginny, had a bad run-in with Malfoy, Sr.'s trickery her first year at Hogwarts that almost killed her. Harry's other best friend, muggle-born Hermione Granger, is also known for hitting Malfoy, Jr. in her third year, as well as everyone hearing Draco make fun of Potter's now dead best friend, Ronald Weasley, for his family's financial situation.
What would Ron say if he knew what was happening? What would Harry's parents say? All my speculations and more continued on pages 4, 5, and 8. (Short bio on Draco and Lucius Malfoy, as well as Ron Weasley on page 7).
Harry's eyes looked murderous as he lowered the paper.
"That's…horrible! How dare her!" Hermione said indignantly.
"Well, might as well look and see which of your fans stand behind you and which ones think I'm going to corrupt you," Draco drawled. "Shoo!" He backhanded an owl as it tried stealing his bacon again, and grabbed the letter before the affronted bird flew off. "Here, I have your first one."
"Let's cast some detection spells first. I still remember the pus that blistered my fingers in fourth year," Hermione said, and raised her wand to cast when another ten owls landed.
By now, nearly everyone in the hall was talking about the story, either reading it first hand, or leaning over to read a friend's copy.
"I suggest we retire to our rooms before class," Draco said, surveying the watching students. Draco, Hermione, and Harry had a free period that morning before class anyway.
When at last the letters started to look like they were slowing, the three friends grabbed handfuls of them and walked out of the Great Hall.
"Honestly, I think I should just burn them all," Harry said as they walked.
"Are you serious? This is the one time I might get to see people disagree and write angry things about The Boy with the Lighting Scar!" Draco said amusedly.
"Yes, because helping the foul Skeeter woman in your 4th year didn't count. Nor did the articles in our 5th year," Hermione said idly as she walked. Draco stuck his tongue out at her. "I'm tempted to agree with you, Harry. Even if some say good things, the bad ones will stick with you more."
"Yeah, I just don't really care about what they have to say. Maybe I will just burn them." Harry and Hermione ignored Draco's exasperated noises.
"Well, we have a fireplace in our room so you can decide there," Hermione said as they reached the dorm door.
Upon entering, the three friends dropped the letters on the table in front of the fireplace as Hermione started a fire.
Draco immediately seized a letter and ripped it open.
"What?" he said as Harry and Hermione stared at him. "Harry couldn't decide so I'm deciding for him. If it's a bad one, I'll chuck it. If it's good, he can keep it if he wants if he ever needs an ego boost."
His eyes scanned the letter for a few seconds before crumpling it up and lobbing it into the fireplace.
"Easy, see?" he said.
Hermione rolled her eyes and gave into temptation as she grabbed a few letters. Harry just sat back shaking his head in amusement.
"Hey Dobby!" he called suddenly, and there was a loud CRACK as the house elf appeared. He sunk into a bow before Harry and as he lifted his head, he saw who was seated extremely close and cozy to him.
"M-Master Draco!" said Dobby, his large orb eyes growing wide as he backed up. Draco looked up and cocked his head at the elf.
"Hey Dobby; you're looking good. I like the socks," Draco said, and went back to reading an exceptionally long letter.
Dobby just looked at Draco curiously for a moment before turning back to Harry.
"Harry Potter, how are you? Dobby misses having Harry Potter at the house. It is not much fun with just Kreacher there," Dobby shook his head, and then lowered his voice to a whisper. "Why is Harry Potter cuddling with Draco Malfoy?"
Draco tried turning his laugh into a cough as he pretended to have not heard the elf.
Harry just smiled. "Dobby, Draco has changed a lot. In fact, he's my b-boyfriend." Harry blushed slightly over his stutter and hesitation of the word.
Draco stopped reading and stared, wide eyed, at Harry. Hermione surveyed them over the top of her letter.
"That's the first time you've actually said that," Draco said, sounding awestruck.
"Well, I might as well get used to it after the Prophet article," Harry said, shrugging as he tried to play it cool. He lost that battle, however, when Draco grabbed his head and pulled him in for a kiss. Hermione went back to reading the letter and Dobby covered his eyes with his ears.
When Draco had sat back and resumed reading, Dobby peeked to check if it was clear to look. The house elf and Hermione met eyes and shared a smile.
"Harry Potter, Dobby is happy if Harry Potter is happy. If Draco Malfoy makes Harry Potter happy, then so be it. If Harry Potter says Draco Malfoy is changed and good now, then Dobby believes him. If Harry Potter-" the elf was cut off by Draco.
"Hey Dobby, you don't have to call me Draco Malfoy. I'm fine just being Draco," he said, and set aside a letter and sat up to look straight at his former house elf. "My father was a bad man. He was cruel, and vile, and treated you and the other house elves like vermin. You deserved more, and I am SO happy that you went and helped Harry during my second year. I'm extremely sorry for, not only the way my father treated you, but also for how I treated you. I wasn't a pleasant person, and I can't blame it all on my upbringing; I was a jerk. If you can find a way to forgive me, I would appreciate it. I really am trying to change. I'm even taking a Muggle Studies class. I don't wish to be associated with my father in any way, ever again, and the easiest way to do that is to use my last name as little as possible. Is that ok?" Then Draco stuck out his hand to the tiny elf, who flinched by habit. Draco tried not to show the slight hurt on his face, and kept his hand out.
Dobby stood blinking at Draco for a few seconds before his face split into a huge grin and he had tears in his eyes. He grabbed Draco's hand with both of his and shook it repeatedly.
"Master Draco has never spoken to Dobby with-with respect! Master Draco even asked if Dobby is ok with something that he said! He asked me to forgive him! No worries, Master Draco, Dobby will not call Master by his surname anymore!" Dobby said and released Draco's hand finally.
"You don't have to call me Master either. Just Draco," he said, smiling at the elf and picking up a new letter.
"Anyway, Dobby, I was wondering if you could bring us some tea and some fruit or crackers. We left breakfast early. I was going to call one of the Hogwarts elves, but I missed you," Harry told Dobby.
Dobby was still mopping his eyes on one of his many scarves as he nodded. He disapparated with a loud crack, and appeared less than 30 seconds later with trays laden tea, cakes, biscuits, fruit, and crackers, along with another house elf helping him to carry them all.
"Hey Kreacher!" Harry said. "Thanks!"
"Kreacher is a good elf and helps his master. Dobby and Kreacher have been tending to Master's plants and grass. Master's house is ready for when he comes home," Kreacher said, bowing to Harry.
"Hey Kreacher," Hermione said to the elf. Kreacher turned around and bowed to Hermione as well.
"Miss Hermione," he said in his croaky voice.
"Master Harry has a boyfriend, Kreacher. It is Dobby's old Master's son, Draco! But Draco is good now, and is kind. He complimented Dobby's socks! Draco doesn't want to be called Draco Malfoy or Master. Draco just wants to be called Draco," Dobby told Kreacher.
"I've never heard my name said so many times in a short span of time," Draco said looking at the two elves in amusement.
"You get used to it," Harry said, laughing.