Madam Pince hated Hermione.
Their monthly study group quickly turned into a bi-monthly study group, morphing into every Saturday. So once a week the unofficial eighth years grabbed the largest table at the library and practiced noisy transfiguration spells, making objects talk and move, disrupting the quiet and the peace.
But Madam Pince wasn't alone in her annoyance. Harry now had to share Hermione with what felt like every student at Hogwarts as she ran several study groups spanning all grades. He was finally excelling at some of the Intelligent Motivational Transfiguration; he bewitched his Herbology textbook with a deep desire to teach him things and quiz him on it, something Hermione approved of, but gave it limited energy so the book got exhausted after only thirty minutes and needed a full day to recharge.
Draco worked some real magic and stopped Pansy from saying a single nasty thing during their study group. This was difficult for her, however, and now looked like she was in a perpetual state of repugnance. Neville, who was doing well in all his classes this year, failed spectacularly when he tried his hand at Intelligent Motivational Transfiguration. Luna's brand of Intelligent Motivational Transfiguration was as confusing as she was, Draco did pretty good, and Goyle's talking teapot had no more brains than he did.
The Slytherin's left promptly after the first hour. Hermione and Harry stayed behind with Neville and the others to give him some extra encouragement. Although he didn't need to learn it, both Ginny and Hermione sandwiched him, both giving him pointers, but suddenly Neville was doing much worse and they couldn't figure out why. After 15 minutes they gave up, Neville's blush reaching all the way down his arms.
"Neville- take a break and come see, they're at it again," Dean said, looking out a window.
"Really? But they just left." The example teapot, annoyed it no longer had Neville's attention, burned him with steam. "OUCH!"
"What are you on about?" Harry asked.
"You haven't been in the dormitory. They argue all the time outside. Come see."
Harry got up to look out the window. Even from this distance he knew the unmistakable small pale dot that was Draco's head gesturing at a large blot that could only be Goyle. There was a lot of movement with waving arms and pointing fingers. "You say they go at it like this all the time?"
"Yeah, we see them at least once a week," Neville said, patting Hermione's teapot, consoling it. "I think they forget everyone can see them outside. Would be better to do it in an empty classroom, more private."
After Neville finally succeeded in creating at teapot that cried, they went down to eat.
At dinner, Harry talked with Ginny non-stop about Quidditch, roaring indignantly about all the horrible hi-jinks set by the new Hufflepuff seeker, Jack Hubert (although they couldn't prove anything) and made sure to agree whole-heartedly, nodding vigorously, at all her tough training sessions to whip her young team into shape. Apparently, her second year Beater was one of the better players.
After studying in the common room with Hermione and Ginny up to curfew, he headed out, absolutely no one questioning him for months why he left every single night. One of the few perks of being, well… himself.
But he ran into someone unexpected on his way back- Draco Malfoy descending from somewhere, both of them in a closed off corridor they shouldn't be. They were both probably doing nothing wrong but passed and eyed each other suspiciously anyway.
"It hasn't opened since last year..." Draco gave him a side eye.
"Doesn't hurt to try, does it?" And Harry remembered that Draco probably wouldn't want to go back in there anyway after what happened to Crabbe.
Should he? Or shouldn't he?
"Everyone can see you fighting outside through the windows. It would be better to move to an abandoned classroom or something."
"It doesn't matter," Draco exasperated loudly, sounding like he was absolutely over everything.
"Oh…" he breathed. "Am I… am I allowed to ask what you're… no, never mind." Harry started to walk away again. "Bye then…"
"He wanted you to speak at his father's trial."
"Oh." This surprised Harry, the whole argument being about him. "I could, but I don't think I'd have anything positive to say."
Draco nodded. "He knows we're…"
"Civil." Harry completed for him.
"Yeah…" Draco did not look at him.
"Tell him I said no. You can say that you asked me, and I said no. Even though you didn't ask, tell him that you did."
"I'll do that," and he looked conflicted. "…I will see my father again. Greg will not. So…" He pursed his lips, wondering if he should continue. "…My father… I know what you must think of him, but he's not an awful person."
"I know that," Harry said automatically despite having mountains of evidence to the contrary.
"He's like… Snape. Complex. You wouldn't see that side of him. I come from a good family. Please don't judge them based on…"
"Joining Voldemort? Giving Ginny a cursed diary?"
"Potter, it may fascinate you to learn," he turned towards him, vicious, "but unlike yours, my family is not broken. My parents love each other."
Harry didn't doubt this. "I'm sorry," Harry decided to apologize for nothing; he didn't want to go down whatever road they were going.
"I will see my father again," he started, "and Greg's father will most likely get a life sentence in Azkaban. His father has done… worse things."
That they can prove. Harry nodded.
"We don't feel like we have the right to complain. There is so much hatred in Slytherin and there's nowhere for us to direct it. Do we direct it on you? Ourselves? Our parents, who we love, and we may never get to see again? There are no good options."
Harry nodded again. There was nothing he could say. He placed the blame squarely on the shoulders of Voldemort and tried not to direct his anger towards the living. It was a bottomless pit for everyone. "I understand…"
"You don't understand! You go around making friends with everyone- but you'll never understand. What it means to be pureblood. Purebloods are friends with other purebloods because we understand the expectations set by our families' legacies."
"That sounds awful," Harry agreed.
"It's not awful!" And Draco was yelling now, pointing a finger. "It's community! It's understanding! It's our culture! That you know nothing about!"
"I WOULD like to point out that I've had PLENTY of expectations put on me, being 'The Boy Who Lived,' and all. I understand better than you think."
"No, you don't!" Draco said, shaking his head. "And now- I'm about to lose one of the only friends I have! After all he's done, after all I asked him to do!" This was very personal information to be giving him. Draco looked pained, angry, but pained. "It's MY fault… and now..." but he didn't finish the sentence.
Draco didn't speak for a while and Harry didn't speak in case he said something patronizing again. But Draco broke the silence. "So, WHY do I have 'healing lessons' with you and Snape all a sudden? Imagine my surprise when Granger asked me how these imaginary lessons were going."
"OH THAT. Uh… well, I had to lie… about something… so I did. Sorry about that. SO, if you could just roll with that lie, I won't tell anyone you're going into abandoned classrooms with her after curfew."
Draco looked angry and surprised. "THAT… WASN'T WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE!"
"I don't think it was what it looked like either!" Harry shrugged. "That's why I brought it up with virtually no one. And by the way, you're not the only one thinking they're going to lose a mate, SO…"
"Yeah, that's right." Draco shifted his weight, remembering. "Weasley hasn't been around all year. What happened?"
Was Harry really going to confide in him about this? But Draco did just divulge some personal fears about Goyle… "Ron and I were supposed to start as Aurors together- I'm sure you've heard, but I didn't, I chose to come back. At first, I just… didn't want to be around anybody, and Ron somehow got mixed up in that," he's tactless when it comes to certain stuff, "but now… now… well, I'm worried my choices going forward are going to disappoint him."
"What choices?" Draco scoffed, entertained by Harry's pathetic excuses for problems.
Harry breathed deeply and started, "Well, I'm 'The Boy Who Lived,' aren't I?' I feel like if I don't choose acceptable hobbies or life choices, people are going to be disappointed in me. If I decide to drop the Ministry and do something off like work at the Quibbler, it's going to bother him and others. And lets say I start dating again… and I don't choose a looker, he's going to be like, 'you dumped my sister for what?"
"…Oh, THAT," Draco said with a twinge of disgust.
Harry's heart skipped a beat. "What… do you mean?"
"It's kind of obvious, isn't it? Apparently, you're spending a lot of time together- that lie you dragged me into. He looks at you all the time, and now you're trying to catch his eye too."
"… Oh." Harry's heart started to beat even faster. "…I didn't know that you knew."
Draco looked away even more upset. "I DIDN'T KNOW! You just told me!"
"OH!" Harry wanted to slap his forehead, feeling very stupid for not denying it. The empty hallway suddenly felt very hot even though there was a hole in this one, letting in cold air.
"Look," Draco threw up his hands and shook his head, not making eye contact. "It's none of my business. I don't know anything; I don't need to know anything."
"Thanks for that," Harry said quickly. "Please don't say anything to anyone, that'd be great. I don't want anything to compromise… his, uh… position here."
"A little late for that, don't you think, Potter?"
"Nothing's happened!" he implored him, lying. "It… it probably will eventually, but not now."
"No, I don't think Weasley would be okay with that." Draco bit his lip hard, thinking about this unwelcome news. "Does Granger know?"
"No, I haven't told her. I hope she'll be cordial about it… she's good with… that kind of stuff."
Draco shook his head again. "If he loses his job because of you…" he turned back to threaten him with his eyes.
"Then he loses his job!" Harry threw up his hands, now feeling defensive about their choices. "He's a Potions Master! He's not helpless. And it's not my fault!" Harry exclaimed, trying to get this point across. He wanted to say more but 'he kept looking at me' didn't sound like a valid argument. And 'he made me cut him' needed a lengthy explanation. "It's… it's different with us, isn't it? You, me and Snape. We've all been part of this… terrible event, eye of the storm, all this pressure… So what, we're spending time together. It's not…"
"You didn't have to snog him."
"It's not my fault!" Harry erupted. "I'm not some… temptress!"
"You're saying he started this?"
Harry pursed his lips. Yes, Snape started this. But would Draco be mad if he said it? "Surely you don't want… details…"
Draco gave him a disgusted look. "No, I don't."
"I'm not expecting you to… understand. I'm expecting you to shut up about it. If not for my sake, for his. You'll do that, won't you?" And he knew Draco would.
"… Yeah…" he agreed, looking like he couldn't wait to forget it.
Harry felt like he needed to defend their situation more but couldn't find the right words, even for himself.
Draco suddenly pivoted to leave. Harry wanted to stop him, make him understand. "Malfoy..."
"I don't care about your love life, Potter."
"Terrible things happened!" Harry said forcefully, still not finding the words. "It's not that weird!"
Draco whipped back, surveying him, drinking in this new audacity. "JUST BECAUSE it took you seven years to realize Snape is an extraordinary person does not mean others are as BLIND. If there's anything weird here, it's YOU, Potter." He left, fists in balls.
Draco's reaction to his 'love life' was terrible, disappointing, and unexpected. He was weirded out, but did not question why it was happening- caring more about Snape's reputation than anything. In desperation, Harry thought about testifying at Goyle's father's trial just to win a small amount of favor back with Draco… but it was a fleeting thought. A Slyffin-puff idea.
On Monday the rest of Harry's homework was dumped in front of him covered by hastily scribbled D's, P's and A's by an exhausted Snape. The very top piece of parchment read: "TRY HARDER, NO THURSDAY." Another Thursday cancelled? Harry glanced up at Snape who looked like he was about to drop dead in class. His normal love poems for the Dark Arts sounded more like Binn's monologues, talking blandly with deep circles under his eyes, hair looking oily as any year previous. Harry thought the progress on the castle was indeed going unexpectedly slow. Out of the 47 closed off areas only 11 were reopened. All of the broken towers remained. This was actually fine with Harry- he'd prefer Snape alive than dead at this , it was a Hogsmeade weekend so there was something to look forward to.
After a rare whirlwind week of him turning in every single assignment, Hermione and Harry walked down into the grounds with everyone else.
"So… uh… is Ron coming?" Harry asked tentatively. This time he didn't mind, but wanted to prepare himself.
"No, I told you, we're meeting with Draco and Gregory. Do you honestly think I'd subject Ron to that?"
"No, I guess you wouldn't…"
The weather collected clouds overhead but all the students lined up anyway, wanting to get out of the castle. The temperature was alright, a little breezy, but thankfully no snow. When it was their turn, Filch probed him up and down, like being Harry Potter was the most suspicious thing of all. Hermione actually knocked the sensor away when he got too close. Thankfully he only sneered at her, moving on to the next person.
"So… where are we meeting them?" On their way down Harry thought about The Hogs Head and possibly running into Mundungus to throttle him, and he still needed to properly thank Aberforth.
"We're going to Madam Puddifoot's."
"What?" Harry gasped. "Malfoy's going to kill us if we go there!"
"They know where they're meeting us!" she snapped. "What's wrong with Madam Puddifoot's?"
Harry walked slower, eyes glazing over with flashbacks of hearts and confetti. "It's… it's for couples, isn't it?"
"Harry? What are you talking about?"
Sure enough, when they entered Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop it looked like just a normal cafe. Devoid of holidays, it looked… completely normal. Not a decoration in sight. Some couples talked happily together at quaint circular tables, yes, but most people sat having lunch and tea or enjoyed something a little stronger.
Draco and Goyle were sitting in a booth in the corner looking like they just had another row.
"There you are! Hello Draco, hello Gregory," Hermione greeted them with too much enthusiasm. Goyle looked at her reproachfully. They did not greet her but she slipped in the booth looking bright. Harry sat down too, not feeling like he had a choice.
"Thank you both for coming. Oh, those look good," she pointed at the mead samplers. "Harry, let's get some too." She wasted no time and pulled out a book with papers stuffed inside. "So, I have drawn up a proposal."
Draco gave her a warning look. "NO, I believe I DREW up the proposal!" he snarled, pulling out his own parchments.
"Wait a minute…" Goyle said, looking at Draco. "She drew it up? This was HER idea?"
"What does it matter?" Hermione pleaded. "Harry is going to step down as Vice-President to a Group Leader. The Dueling Club will be completely Slytherin-ran!"
"YOU said this was your idea." Goyle only had eyes for Draco, now realizing he was lied to.
"It was Draco's idea, Gregory. I simply wrote up a proposal too. In case he didn't bring one… In case he forgot it," but her voice sounded too high to be genuine.
Harry knew the best thing to do was to shut up and let Draco handle this, so he kicked her under the table, but it was too late. Goyle got up and stomped away. Draco looked stunned at first, and then buried his head in his hand.
"Well, that went great," Harry said. Hermione looked mortified by her mistake.
"…Do you know how hard it was to get Snape to even consider letting Goyle be Vice-President?" he asked miserably.
"What can I get for you, dears?"
"OH!" Hermione startled at being asked her order so quickly after Goyle left. "Uhh… yes. These." She pointed at the mead samplers. "Uhh, four… I mean, three. Three more, I guess."
"Of course, dears. Anything to eat?"
"Uhhhh, no. No, I think we're… not right now. Thank you."
Zabini slipped in as she left. "Again, Draco? Now you're just trying too hard."
"Well, if he never talks to the Granger girl again, he's not going to pass this year either. It was worth a shot," he said right in front of Hermione like she didn't exist.
"Pansy almost talked him out of coming this morning."
"Pansy can sod off- she's poison. Puts Slytherins back five years, I expected better of her by now."
"Pansy is a nasty witch, everyone knows that."
"Here I am, playing nice with Granger and Potter, and I can't get Greg to even talk to me. I can't win."
"Slughorn agreed to give you private lessons every other Friday. That sounds like winning to me Draco. Others have noticed, although your father is locked up, you've been keeping your head well above water."
"It doesn't feel like it," Draco mumbled miserably.
"What you're doing is better. You don't want to lower yourself to anyone else's position just for friendship points. The other Slytherins are looking at you for an example, and they see you're keeping your wand down and networking appropriately. It's a good example, to be frustrated and not react out of anger."
The waitress came by and Zabini took Draco's new drinks for himself. "Goyle should be following your example. Potter has his uses; it is wise to be cordial with him. He forgives and others put their wands away."
"I know that," Draco said with hands around his old sampler. Harry sipped his, pretending he wasn't being spoken about by two Slytherins using him like a pawn.
"And you, Potter," Zabini turned to him unexpectedly. "I heard your failing Defense Against the Dark Arts. How?"
"Well… there's all those… laws," Harry shrugged. "Now that Voldy's not around, I don't have much to do. Maybe I need a holiday." Zabini and Malfoy twisted their mouths like they couldn't stand him. Harry raised his drink. "Slytherin for the Cup!" and they sneered.
"Slytherin for the Cup," Draco repeated his sarcasm, drinking.
"Isn't your ex-girlfriend Seeker?" Zabini questioned, wondering why he would joke about rooting against her.
"She is."
"Is she single?"
"She is," Harry raised an eyebrow, not upset. "At least… I think she is. Watch it now, she's hard to please."
"I've heard."
Harry didn't know how to take that little comment.
"Anyway Draco," Zabini turned back to him. "Give Greg some time. He'll be lucky to get a single C.H.A.R.M.S. this year, as you said. But he'll come out of it. It's hard to be your friend when you're getting on with your life and he isn't."
"Yeah…" Draco agreed, looking at his mead like it should be Firewhisky. They separated soon afterwards, the real purpose of their visit abandoned.
"That was a really good meeting!"
"How do you figure?"
"We had a full conversation with the Slytherins without fighting. A first, I think."
"We barely said anything."
"But they did! And they trusted us to listen. Draco must be having a real hard time this year, most of the Slytherins are, it sounds like. I wonder if they get sick of being the dark house."
"I'm sure they do," Harry agreed. "Zabini likes Ginny, how about that…"
"Does that bother you, Harry?"
"No," he shrugged. "I don't think it bothers me at all."
"Wow… you really are over her then?"
"We weren't together all last year. Like I said- I like her just fine. And I haven't lost her, we're still friends… I think. It's just that… things are different now. I feel disconnected from her, it's tough to explain."
"I feel that way too... but towards my parents." Harry looked at her. "Well, they're muggles, aren't they? And I just survived a war they know nothing about, and I go home, we have dinner, and oh Harry, it's so weird being there. They've gone back to work at their practice, and nothing feels like it's changed, except everything has changed."
"I'm sorry, Hermione."
"Oh, I know you are. And I know you don't want to hear it, but going to Ron's is easier. Everyone is grieving, making a show of being happy, but grieving. And it feels better to me- more authentic."
"Yeah…" Harry agreed. He couldn't say it out loud, but in a weird way it felt like all the things he was doing with Snape indirectly helped his bottled-up unresolved grief. And more concerning yet, the grief was just a thin sheet over a pressure cooker. And now he had this puncture- an outlet. And it was kind of working.
They were passing Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. The supply shop reminded him of books he wanted to order. But… he didn't know how to ask for them. "Umm, Hermione… don't you think it's weird there's not a book shop in Hogsmeade?"
"Yes, but it's easy to owl-order them. Plus, Hogwarts is full of books. Perhaps the students don't want even more books. But you know I would love a bookshop here, why do you ask?"
"I just…" he could probably tell her... he probably could. "I'm looking for… well, I don't know if I can owl-order what I'm looking for. I don't even know the titles, only the subject."
"Really? What do you want to read up on? Are you sure it's not in the library? Did you ask?"
"Definitely not in the library."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
And now she was curious. "Really? What are you looking for? Something to help you with Auror training?"
"Uhhh, not exactly. I'm looking for… instructive books…"
"About…?"
"You know, books for more… you know, intimate matters…"
"Are you talking about sex books, Harry?" she asked bluntly.
He stared at her, hating himself. "And if I were… where would I get those?"
"You need to go to Diagon Alley for that. I don't think they take owl-orders from Hogwarts students." Thankfully she didn't shame him, but she did give him a searching look, wondering if he got a new girlfriend he wasn't telling her about. But then she looked away, considering. "You could probably ask George, though."
"George?" Yes, that made sense.
"Yes, George. Surprised he hasn't offered you one. They were selling them on the side at Hogwarts for years. Tried giving them points for it but then they forced a copy on me. Quite educational. A matter of health and contraception, you know."
"Oh. Uh, good. So… yeah. Thanks." It was difficult to remain with her after asking such an embarrassing question but he powered through. He was glad he did. Now that he had the information he needed, and the Goyle dilemma out of the way, they enjoyed themselves, entering Honeydukes where everything looked delicious.