Draco's POV:
It was fourth year. It had not been a very good year so far, between my dad, and Harry, and the promises of what would happen next year. I had been worried about Harry so much, with his being in the Triwizard Tournament and the special thing the Dark Lord put him through, but I didn't know exactly what it was. I would follow him around (I wasn't stalking him out of obsession, but out of protection), and occasionally run into him on purpose just so I could be absolutely positive he was alright, even if I had to act like my old self and be mean. He was always in danger, and there was little I could do to stop any of it.
It was one of those days. I had been following Harry around for a bit, since he decided to run off to be alone a minute during lunch, since he had time now that the games were over. He was outside now, sitting on the grass where usually everyone was, but since they were at lunch, it was deserted. I watched from far away. He talked to himself, deciding what to do and whatnot. Then he began to sing. It was the most beautiful sound in the world, his voice. So warm it would resonate through the wind, heating the coldest of all days, no matter how depressing the sound of his acapella song was.
"I am still living with your ghost, lonely and dreaming of the west coast. I don't want to be your downtime. I don't want to be your stupid game. With my big black boots and an old suitcase, I do believe I'll find myself a new place. I don't want to be the bad guy. I don't want do your sleepwalk dance anymore. I just want to see some palm trees. I will try and shake away this disease. We can live beside the ocean, leave the fire behind, swim out past the breakers, and watch the world die. We can live beside the ocean, leave the fire behind, swim out past the breakers, and watch the world die.
"I am still dreaming of your face, hungry and hollow for all the things you took away. I don't want to be your good time. I don't want to be your fallback crutch anymore. I'll walk right out into a brand new day, insane and rising in my own weird way. I don't want to be the bad guy. I don't want to do your sleepwalk dance anymore. I just want to feel some sunshine. I just want to find some place to be alone. We can live beside the ocean, leave the fire behind, swim out past the breakers, and watch the world die…"
I didn't realize he was finished until he was silent a moment and then got up, walking away while I was still entranced in his vocals. By the time I had snapped back into reality, he had long left back to his friends. Instead of following him, I just slumped against the wall I was against. I hadn't heard that song before, but listening to the words, made me believe that it was just perfect for Harry. Every word resonated in my head, thinking of everything he had just recently gone through. It was quite a sad, depressing, true song.
Light seeped through my eyelids, and I became aware that I had just been dreaming of the past. While some part of me wanted to open my eyes to find the source of light, most of me just wanted to sleep for the rest of eternity. For a few seconds, I pretended to be asleep, hoping that I could just fall back into the lovely memories I hold, just once more. Of course, I'm not that lucky.
"Get up you insufferable sloth of a son." My father's voice pierced through the air and cut into my very lungs. I stopped breathing and opened my eyes to see if maybe it would all be a dream. I didn't see him, and so I sat up, and there he stood menacingly at the foot of my bed. His nose twitched in disapproval.
"What have you done to your face?"
I got out of bed and walked to the mirror, only to see a large purple blotch on my cheek where my father had slapped me yesterday. My hand went up to touch it gingerly, and I saw I had a matching one on my wrist from where he had grabbed it, along with a contrasting bracelet of white daisies that were perfectly unharmed. My grey eyes were rimmed in red, making them look almost white, and my face ghostly and death-ridden. It was a scary version of myself, but nothing I hadn't seen before. I swallowed hard and came up with some excuse to satisfy him, even though he knew where it came from.
"Oh. It must have been from when I was sneaking out my window and fell out onto the yard. I don't have a wand, because you took it from me when I arrived. I was so careless when I was sneaking out. I really shouldn't dabble in such childish things as escaping out a window." I looked to my father.
Over the years, I had perfected the art of saying things he would want me to say, so I could avoid getting beaten. It's a skill that can never be lost, and comes in handy very often, especially with teachers.
"Draco, why aren't you in your rooms? It is past curfew."
"Yes, I know, Professor. I was a little late in the library studying for the test in your class tomorrow. I apologize. I'll try to cut my leisure time short so I can finish up earlier next time."
"…Very well. Off then. You need to be well rested to be alert for the test as well."
"Yes, Professor." (Works every time.)
Of course, my father would try to find a way past my kissing up and find a way to hit me again.
"Even I know how to properly exit a window and get to ground safely without bruising my skin so badly. You had better find a way to fix it so that you are presentable for the celebration today. If someone saw that bruise they would wonder why you were escaping the Malfoy house. It's not good for the family name." He took a step closer to me and his eyes bore into mine. I wanted to look away, but knew I would appear cowardly if I did.
"Speaking of such, why did you sneak out? Do you not appreciate the kindness I have done for you by inviting you back into the very manor in which you grew up in? You should be thanking me every waking moment for letting me back into mylovely home after the vile things that you have said and the outright disrespect for our family with your choices. Are you not happy? Would you like me to abandon you on the street again, with no money, no wand, and no home? How dare you take all this for granted! How dare you disrespect me and your mother like that!"
He got me there. I hadn't expected him to say anything about mother. I hadn't even seen her my entire time here, but she knew I had snuck out, and she thinks I was disrespecting her? My eyes glossed over. I never meant to hurt my mother like that…
My father decided to scream at me for a while, and I just sat there, and took it all. Getting yelled at was nothing compared to some of the things I have been through, especially when the Dark Lord was around. I listened to my father rant, and accuse, and basically make me out to be the son who has treated him awfully and not given him the respect he rightfully deserves. I had heard it all a million times at least, but he never seemed to think it grew old.
"You poor excuse of a son! You bloody traitor to the family name! You….YOU…" He raised his hand again, and I ducked my head, but not so much that he would slap the top of my head and send it to the wall (it happened once and I had to visit St. Mungo's). If my guess was right, he would hit my bruised cheek again. But he never swung. Instead, he crumpled his fingers into a tight fist and his arm went slowly to his side.
"I expect you to be ready in ten minutes for the celebration." He strode out of the room, leaving me to figure out how to fix what he had initially caused.
I had no wand. I mostly used wandless magic to do things I really needed magic for, but I had never tried a Glamour before. He had given me so little time. It usually takes me fifteen minutes at least just to get dressed. I rushed over to my wardrobe, opened it up, and stepped inside. I had to pick just the right thing for Harry to notice me (not that he wouldn't just notice me being there because I have no connections whatsoever to him). I knew what I wanted to wear, then. I ran around in my closet before Paisley, my invisible miniature dragon, finally found it hiding behind something less-than-fashionable that a relative had once sent me.
"Thank you, Paisley." I quickly scurried out of my wardrobe and changed into my suit.
Now let me tell you: every man has his perfect suit; one that accentuates every feature of him, and makes him just look absolutely amazing. This suit was my perfect suit. It was fairly simple; black pants, black jacket, basic white formal shirt, and a royal blue silk tie. I don't know what it was about me and that suit, we just clicked. I could wear a black suit, even with the same color tie, but it just wouldn't work. When I wear this suit, my grey eyes pop and look like an icy light blue, my slender arms don't look too skinny or large but just perfect, and my waist was ever so accentuated as to being the thinnest part of my torso. I put on a pair of black dress shoes and walked back over to the mirror. My bruise was a complimentary color to the tie, with its purplish blue shade.
Lucky me. I touched it and found it to be very sore. I sighed and decided to try the wandless Glamour. Of course, it probably wouldn't last long, but that was alright; all I really needed was to get past my father. I commanded (or, uh, persuaded) the magic that flowed through my veins to go into my hand. I felt every little tingle of magic that collected there, and after a few precious seconds, I put my hand to my face. Now, how wandless magic works (for me, anyway) is to sort of wish for the spell instead of casting it, almost like you're just dreaming that something will happen. I told my magic that I wanted to hide my bruise from others, and that it would last long enough just until my father was gone. When I brought my hand down, I sighed and hoped that it had worked. I wouldn't want my father to hit me and make another bruise on my other cheek…
I looked to my hair. Somewhere in the course of my running around, it fell into place. I liked the way it looked, somewhat tousled, but in a formal kind of way, like I had put mousse into it to make it stay that way. I didn't know how my hair always did that, but I loved it and it was ever so the smallest perk to my dreary life.
"Are you ready, Draco?" My father asked impatiently from my doorway.
"Yes, father." I walked out and placed my hand on his shoulder and we apparated.
"Now." He said once we arrived, "I'm very glad that you took care of your bruise. How you were able to accomplish that, I have no idea, but I will find out later." He gave me his "I-am-your-evil-father" look and then added "Enjoy the celebration," before he disapparated. I put my hand to my cheek, as I was sure that my Glamour had already fallen.
I needed to find Hermione.
I must have looked quite preposterous being the enemy of Harry Potter, walking around the celebration where only friends were invited, and holding my hand to my cheek, because every person I passed looked at me. It seemed like I walked around about twenty times before I finally found Hermione in the decently sized, but rather crowded party room. She smiled oddly when she saw me, and came to me very quickly.
"Hello, Draco. Why on earth are you holding your cheek like that?"
I winced. "I need some help covering up something." I pulled my hand just far enough away so she could see it, but others could not. Her eyes grew wide with concern and she pulled me aside to a corner.
"What happened?" She tried to say quietly.
"It's a really long story that involves a boy and this bracelet." I took my hand off my cheek and pulled my sleeve down to show her the daisies that had gotten me into this mess. "To make it short, my father wasn't too happy that I left the house, but he doesn't know I talked to anyone." Her brown eyes were so full of concern that just looking at all that worry made me want to hug her and tell her everything will be alright, even if I'm the one who needs it.
"Oh Draco…" She bit her lip and raised her hand to my cheek, touching it ever so gently. I blinked, and we were suddenly in a secluded part of the little plaza thingy we were in (I didn't take the time to question where I was). A small tear slid down her cheek and she pulled her wand out.
"Why do you let him do these things to you? He's an awful man. An awful father. How could he…" Her hands tensed into fists and then released as she sighed and cast a blue spell onto me that I assumed was some sort of medical spell. Hermione shook her head and said,
"Nope. It didn't work. I'm sorry, Draco. I'm not a medical witch." She pulled out her small purse and rummaged through it a bit before she pulled out a jar of cover-up.
"Would you be willing to wear makeup?" I shrugged and so she put just a bit on me before sighing again.
"It's too dark. You're so pale compared to me…" She wiped it off, shaking her head the whole time.
"I guess I'll just go without it." I looked into the mirror in the cover-up case and slid my fingers against my bruised cheek. The skin felt the same as it always did, smooth and warm, but it looked so much different. "At least it matches my tie."
Hermione let out a short laugh that was more of a mixture of a laugh and a gasp.
"Come on, then. Let's go."
Harry's POV:
I need my shoes! Where did my tie go? I swore I just had it in my hand. Here's one shoe. Where's the other? Did I brush my teeth? There's my tie! Yes, I did brush. Where in Merlin in my other shoe? I forgot a sock. I need to put on my jacket. Wait, where did my tie go? Here's the other shoe! I'll put it on. Wait! I need the sock!
I was in a rush. I had completely forgotten about the celebration, and had decided to sleep in for once. Of course, the one day I decide that would just so happen to be the day of an important celebration. It was getting close to the time of the little party, and here I was, dashing across my room like a mad person, forgetting things all along the way and getting absolutely no progress whatsoever.
Oh, I'm wearing my tie. Well, that's good. I finally calmed down, put on both shoes and both socks and my jacket and checked to make sure I had everything. Socks, shoes, pants, underwear, wand, wallet, shirt, tie, jacket. All good.
I apparated to the Ministry and entered the temporary celebration hall they had conjured up just for this. Imagining nothing but my friends in one room sounded so amazing. It would be great to see them all and just have a ball. I entered the room, seeing Ron near the door talking to George. They smiled, and I smiled and waved. I walked over, and we started chatting, talking about how everyone was, and all that small talk that begins a conversation. I was just about to ask George what he had been up to recently when there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see the Minister of Magic bow his head, politely smile, and gesture behind him. "This way, Mr. Potter."
"Oh. Alright."
He started off in that direction and so I followed him. I followed him all the way to the front of the room, and over to a chair that looked like a king's chair, up some little steps so that it was higher than everything else, with red velvet trimmed with gold in a pattern I could hardly decipher. The chair itself was so fancy (too fancy, in fact), but as the Minister turned around, he gestured for me to sit in the chair. I looked at him a moment before I finally decided to sit in the chair. It was a good view of everyone staring at me like I was in a museum.
"Everyone! Mr. Harry Potter has finally arrived!" He announced, then turned to me and said personally to me, "You're late."
"Sorry. I was in a bit of a rush and made no progress for a while trying to get ready."
Everyone in the room had returned to their conversations. Looking, I saw all of the Weasley family, Hermione, Neville, Luna, teachers from Hogwarts, Denis Creevey and his brother's old camera, some students I had conversed with a time or two back in my school years, lots of Ministry officials, Draco Malfoy, that one kid who used to sit next to me in…
Wait. Why is Malfoy here? From where I was, I could see him just leaning against a wall, his head down, watching people here and there. I was pretty sure that only people I had liked where here. Draco had hated me since the day I walked into Hogwarts. Why would he be invited? Or an even better question, why would he show up? I would think a prideful Malfoy such as him wouldn't be seen at the same party as me. Or maybe that was it. He's trying to give himself a better reputation.
Not that I would ever admit to him that I didn't really hate him, but I really didn't. I never understood why he would always come up to me being to awful and annoying, looking to piss me off at every turn. Making enemies isn't worth the time and effort. Even if he didn't want to be a friend of mine, he didn't have to go out of his way to make me his enemy. It's a decision of his that I really regret.
I realize that I have been staring at the floor in front of me like an idiot while I was thinking to myself. I make a look around the room once more, not really looking at the people, but trying to make it seem as if I'm not absolutely bored on this lonely throne at the front of the room where no one else was. My eye catches Draco again, and I see he's moved across the room, heading toward Hermione it looked like. Why would he talk to her? Not that I really minded if he wanted to chat with her, but from past experience, I doubted that was what he wanted. Oddly enough, a part of me could see that he didn't mean any harm to her. But really, it was strange for him.
The Minister of Magic comes to my side, snapping me out of my thoughts (and staring contest with the floor). He turned to everyone and held his wand to his throat to amplify his voice out to them.
"Witches and Wizards, welcome to the official celebration of the one year Anniversary of Peace. I would like to start off with Mr. Potter saying a few words concerning the celebration." He turned and bowed his head again to me.
He wants me to say something? Is he mad? Nonetheless, I rose and started making things up off the top of my head that I imagine I should say.
"Hello, everyone. Thank you all for coming. I uh…am very pleased that I'm alive to celebrate this day…" the deadly silence was interrupted with a cough.
"For many years, Voldemort had been destroying what we hold dear," a cringe at the name of course, from nearly everyone, "and the many people we lost will not be forgotten. Really, I didn't defeat him alone. All of my friends helped me, and the love of my family, blood or not, kept me going and aided me in my…uh…task. I wouldn't be here without them." By this point, I was all out of things to say. "Uh, thank you all once again. Enjoy the celebration."
They all clapped (George whistled, making himself stick out of the polite applause). I forced a smile and, not knowing what to do, sat back down on my throne awkwardly. I looked out and saw an almost half-purple face stick out in the back, and realized it was Draco, sporting a bruise on his cheek. It took all my control not to let my mouth hang open and gasp. Merlin…
The Minister nodded and put his wand back to his throat. Everyone quieted back down.
"Yes, thank you, Mr. Potter. Now, if everyone would like to say something personally to Mr. Potter, you all may line up now to do so."
A big guy, who I assumed was the usher or something, stepped up just to my left. It hadn't really registered what exactly what the Minister had said until Rita Skeeter pushed her way through the crowd and came right before me. I had been distracted too much by Draco's face (because of the bruise, not the attractiveness) to really notice until she said in her annoying voice, "Oh Harry Dear!"
I visibly sighed and rubbed my forehead with my hand. The big guy next to me must have noticed, because he stepped in front of me and said, "Mr. Potter does not wish to speak to you. Vamoose" with a shooing gesture and all. I nearly laughed at her offended face.
I can send people away I don't want to talk to? Brilliant!
The next was some girl wearing a shirt with my face on it that said "My hero." A red flag went off somewhere in my mind.
I shook my head, and the big guy said, "Sorry, lady. Mr. Potter doesn't want to see you. Scram." Her brown eyes looked grief stricken, and she started to shuffle away slowly. Just as he was about to step back to my side, she ducked around him and over to me.
"Oh-my-gosh-it's-Harry-Potter-oh-my-gosh!" she said in a rush as she climbed on my chair. I tried to push her off, but she managed to pull off some of my hair and then ran away screaming, "I got it!" Some other girls squealed with her, and then they all disapparated.
"Ow." I said, rubbing my head where she had pulled out some of my hair.
The big guy turned to face me with a pale face, like I was a dragon about to eat him whole after I burned him to a crisp. In a quiet voice he almost whispered, "Mr. Potter, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…you see she scooted right around me…I couldn't do anything about…honest I…"
Not only was it odd to see a guy like him so ruffled thinking I would be mad at him for some crazy girl stealing some of my hair. It was…funny? Either way, I started laughing.
"It's alright. You didn't so anything wrong. She was just…" I stopped laughing now and started rubbing my head again "a really weird girl…no harm done…uh…what's your name?"
"Name's Big Todd. I assure you, Mr. Potter, it won't happen again." He nodded and turned back around. Next in line were Ron and Hermione. I was so glad I nearly sighed with relief.
People I'm actually friends with! Thank Merlin!
"Hey, Harry," Ron said. "What's with this whole thing? Did you become a prince of something while I wasn't looking?"
I laughed. "If I did, they forgot to tell me."
Hermione smiled weakly. "Sorry, I couldn't stop the other planners from making you out to be royalty. They were those screaming girls you just saw. I didn't pick them, honest."
"Well, that would explain a lot." I smiled.
It was good to see my friends, no matter how often or infrequent it was that I saw them. The whole idea of this celebration reminded me that they could not have been here with me to celebrate it. I didn't like the idea very much.
Hermione smiled and said, "Well, we'll have to talk to you later. You seem to have a lot of people in line wanting to talk to you."
I sighed. "Yeah, I know. See you later then, guys."
"See ya, Harry."
When they left, I really noticed just how long the line really was. It seemed that everyone was in line. For a while, I wasted time talking to ministry officials, and teachers, listening to them preach on how well I handled He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and how brave I was, but of course I am a Gryffindor, so it wasn't so surprising, and how lucky I was with the hand I was dealt, and how it was astonishing how I wasn't famous in the muggle world, blah blah blah. Really, I felt like my ear would fall off or maybe that I would fall asleep and be unable to pretend I was listening by saying "yes" and "oh of course". Even my favorite teachers, including Professor McGonagall and even Hagrid, had really bored me to a point of no end, but I put up with it all. Without them, I might not have been here.
I had just gotten done listening to Professor Flitwick's praise of how I was able to pass classes and save the world in my younger years (or something like that), when he said goodbye and the next person stepped forward to speak to me. I noticed at once it was Draco, and I tried to sit up and prepare for anything awful he might say to me. But something, maybe the red in his unharmed cheek or the way he looked at the floor when he walked, told me he had no intention.
"Well Harry," he finally looked at to me, and I had a full view of his bruise. "It seems as if you have recently been crowned." He did a small bow. "I am truly humble to be in your presence."
I was about to say something sarcastic back, when I noticed that he had called me Harry, not Potter. Instead, I managed to say "Hello to you too, Draco."
"I suppose you're wondering what I'm doing here, then?" he said.
I shrugged. "Not really. Though I am curious as to how some others were let in here. I mean, Rita Skeeter is far from any friend of mine…"
Draco snorted. "And here I thought you would be thinking the same thing about me."
I looked at him, intending to tell him how I honestly didn't want to be his enemy, when a sudden curiosity took over me, and before I could stop it, I blurted out, "How did you get that bruise?"
He pulled back as if he was taken off guard, but his expression of coolness did not break. "It really is a long story, but it doesn't concern you in the least."
Nodding slowly, I replied "Of course. It isn't my business. Sorry." I looked away from him. It's odd, how a person can make one feel so small, even if one is sitting so much higher than them in a fancy throne and being treated like a tyrant who scared everyone out of their mind. "So, um…why did you come to talk to me, then?"
He shrugged and said, "I don't know really. I guess I just wanted to see what it would be like now that we aren't in school anymore."
With such an odd answer from him, it was difficult to come up with a reply. After a moment, I finally said, "I guess that we've changed, though we never had to be enemies in the first place."
Draco looked right at me, his pale grey eyes meeting mine directly for the first time since the last time we had actually talked, long ago; just a word or two, after I had just saved his life exactly one year ago.
"I wish I could take it all back," he said quietly before he turned and left.
Hermione's POV:
The party was mostly a failure on my part. Yes, I had invited decent people Harry would like, and the teachers from Hogwarts, and some of the people from our year, but really those fan-girls that I had been stuck with as planners had ruined it all. I have no idea how, but somehow or another, Rita Skeeter, whom I put on the "Do-Not-Invite-At-All-Costs" list, was able to convince them to let her attend.
They had told me, "But she promised she wouldn't bring her camera, so she can't do anything. She's just coming for fun." I knew it was a bad idea from the start, and now, I followed her through the room as she took out her notepad, scribbling some stuff down rapidly while she thought no one was looking. I walked right up behind her.
"What is that you're writing? A story for your paper, perhaps?"
She turned around, notepad behind her back, looking a little startled.
"There shall be no stories in the paper about this celebration at all," I continued. "Not any notes, or anything. If this happens to become a problem, I will have you thrown out."
She brought one hand to her side and the other to her chest, her notepad in neither hand, with a fake expression of hurt on her face. "Of course not. I promised I wouldn't." Despite her efforts, she wasn't a good actor.
"Then you wouldn't mind if I asked to see your notepad?"
"Well, I wouldn't want you peaking at all my stories. Some of them haven't been published yet. I'm sure I'm not allowed to share them with anyone. I could lose my position…" She stepped to the side to reveal nothing behind her.
"And as it seems, my boss has summoned it." She smiled wide and walked away easily to have a discussion with Denis Creevey, Colin Creevey's younger brother who kept a camera with him at all times.
It seemed that this party was doing more bad than good for Harry.
After the invitations went wrong, I tried to take control of the events. I really wanted to have a nice brunch of some sort, and then maybe a nice dance or even have people come up and talk about their experiences while You-Know-Who was alive. The other planners had no problem with that (especially the dance, since they all wanted to dance with Harry), but the Ministry told me I could not have a brunch because the mess would be too much, and the dance was inappropriate for the holiday, but the stories would be too much of a reminder for those who had gone through a lot and didn't want to remember it. So of course, they came up with their own plans, making it such a boring celebration. There was absolutely no food, only a punch bowl that refilled itself, not even many chairs because they had not let anyone take the time to get them, or conjure them, or anything!
I was staring at the order of events they had given me right before the party had started.
1. Introduction
2. Potter speech
3. People talk with Harry-Indiv.
4. Toast to Harry
5. History of holiday (because that wouldn't remind people of what they lost)
6. Pictures
7. Conclusion
Really, it was quite an awful party. By the time it was over, I was wishing that I hadn't let anyone interfere with my original plans. After everyone had left, Ron and his family, the teachers, various others, even Harry, Draco came up and slapped my arm.
"Ow," I said immediately, rubbing the stinging away. "What on earth was that for?"
He gave me a "don't-you-act-innocent" look and said, "I know you told Harry to wear that suit."
I smiled, unable to pretend like I had nothing to do with it. "Well, when you told me about his 'perfect suit', I just couldn't wait to be able for you to see him in it."
He didn't smile back.
"Oh, come on. You have to admit he looks absolutely brilliant in it."
"Of course he looks bloody brilliant," Draco said, tone bordering on a whine. "So brilliant, in fact, that those crazy fan girls stole a piece of his hair!"
I shook my head. "Honestly, they didn't just take some hair. They took something out of his pocket too."
Draco looked shocked and puzzled. "What would he have in his pocket?" He thought for a moment and his eyes widened. "Did they take his wand?"
"I don't think so," I answered. "He disapparated to his room."
He nodded and shrugged slightly. "Well whatever it was they took, I'm sure he'll have to go through hell and back to get it. And by hell, I mean his fan club." I laughed, but he gave me a cold stare. "And don't think you're off the hook just yet!"
I continued laughing, about to protest, but suddenly thought of something I had been wanting to ask all evening. "Oh! How did your talk with him go?"
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not really sure. First, I joked around, calling him royalty, then he commented on how I was here, but said he was more shocked on how Rita Skeeter got in. Then he asked how I got my bruise, and I acted all defensive telling him it was none of his business, and I feel awful because he looked so dejected after that. Then he said we didn't have to be enemies, and I walked away after saying I wish I could take it all back. You know, being enemies for so long." He rubbed his forehead. "I feel like such a loser, Hermione."
"Hey." I tried to reassure him all the time, but never as much as I had to when it concerned Harry. "At least you two didn't act like you hated each other. You had a civil conversation. And he wants to be your friend, now, so that's good."
"No, Hermione. I ruined everything. He knows how I feel about him now, and I bet he doesn't want to talk to me anymore. Maybe we should be enemies. It was much easier pretending to hate him than to try and be civil without any comment on how infatuated with him I am."
I sighed, but an idea immediately struck me. I smiled and dug in my bag until my fingers closed around a jar. I pulled it up reading the label to make sure it was the correct jar. Polyjuice potion. Perfect. I helped myself to one of Draco's hairs (which of course came an "ow" and a look of confusion after) and popped it into the potion, which boiled and produced bubbles as usual. I smiled at a puzzled Draco and sipped. It tasted oddly like a sort berry, with a tart end to it mixed with hazelnut.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked. "Please don't tell me you've caught the fan-girl disease, but with me instead of Harry…"
I felt the effects start to happen. It sort of burned, but not as much as it used to.
"I'm turning into you, stupid, so I can talk to you still after your dad takes you home."
"And what am I going to do? Hide behind you?" He winced and relaxed as my face contorted into his. "But might I say, Hermione, you are beginning to look very attractive."
The transformation finished, and I transfigured my dress into a suit exactly like his before replying. "Here, hop into my purse." He gave me a look of astonishment.
"Why can't you be the one in the purse and me be the one who's escorted by my father back home?"
I smirked, probably looking exactly like he does when he said something witty and smug. "Because I have a wand to put on a Glamour for my face."
His nose scrunched, but he obliged as I enlarged the entrance to my purse by stepping inside.
"Don't get lost, and don't step on anything glass either!"
"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively.
Once he was inside, I narrowed the purse, making it even smaller than its original size so I could slip it into the pocket of the suit I was now wearing. After casting a quick Glamour on myself, I stepped outside into the hallway, seeing Mr. Malfoy at once.
"There you are!" he said sharply. "How dare you keep me waiting."
He grabbed my arm rather hard before I could even think of replying (not that I had anything in mind to say) and apparated us to Malfoy Manor. He released my wrist just after tossing me into Draco's room forcefully so that I almost fell onto the floor.
"You will not be dining this evening, as your mother has helped me realized how my usual punishments do more harm than help with our reputation." And with that, he shut and locked the door.
I stood for a moment, astounded, mouth agape, just trying to understand what had just happened. My purse started ruffling in my pocket, and so I pulled it out and my wand and enlarged the entrance again to let Draco out. "Draco, that was awful. How on earth do you put up with that?"
He pretended to dust himself off and just shrugged. "It's my life. Grew up like that."
By now, the Polyjuice potion was wearing off, since I had only had a small sip of it, and not the entire concoction (which left me with an opportunity to me to turn into Draco whenever I wanted, and so I added it to my collection of extra Polyjuice potion of certain people that I carried). I transformed the now-oddly-fitted suit I was wearing into a comfortable shirt with regular pants.
"Really, Draco, that's awful. I really don't think you should stay here anymore."
Draco lay on his bed, face to the ceiling, and sighed. "I can't leave. I know it's horrible here, but there is something that's keeping me here." He sat up and looked at me. "I haven't seen my mother at all, yet. I suspect she's very busy. Wouldn't be the first time. But I have to stay here, just long enough so I can talk to my mother."
"Well, alright." I sat next to him on his bed. "But I suppose you're just going to have to vent out all your Harry feelings while I'm here, so you might as well start." I grinned and nudged him.
He rolled his eyes, but said nothing.
"It's alright, Draco." I said, deciding to stop pestering him but trying to comfort him instead. "Love isn't everything in life."
His voice died down to a whisper. "It is when you're trapped in a prison cell."