"Hey, how did it go?"
Draco dropped himself on the couch near the fireplace and brushed some hair out of his face. Pansy was sitting next to him with a large, dusty old book on her lap, apparently looking for a subject for her Defence Against the Dark Arts essay.
"As anticipated. She stubbornly refused and kept going on about my irresponsibility," he spat.
Pansy rolled her eyes and turned a page, wrinkling her nose as a wave of dust fluttered up from the old pages. She moved the book from her lap onto the table and dug in her bag for a roll of parchment and a quill. Draco eyed the page she had marked and saw some information about ghosts.
"What's your subject?"
"The Use... of Dark Magic... and its Effects... on the Ability... to Leave an Imprint... of the Soul," she answered in intervals as she wrote the line neatly at the top of her parchment. She finished with a forceful dot and looked up at him. "Have you already decided on a subject?" Draco shook his head and Pansy pushed the book in his direction. "You can use this for inspiration if you want, but don't leave it lying around. I don't know if I'm allowed to have it."
Concluding that the book must be the property of Pansy's father, he nodded. Mr Parkinson was very fond of the Dark Arts. He hadn't been a committed follower of the Dark Lord, but he did agree with most of his views. Draco had been at the Parkinson Manor a few times and one of the larger rooms was converted into a library, with one of the largest collections of books on the Dark Arts that Draco had ever seen.
He appreciatively glanced around the Slytherin common room, glad to be spending some time down here. It was quite empty, as only a couple of sixth- and seventh-years had a free period. Sally-Anne Perks was sitting at one of the tables, surrounded by rolls of parchment and a pile of books. One of the other tables was occupied by Viola Richmond, a sixth-year prefect, and one of her friends, Mathilda Greenford. On the couch across from him and Pansy sat Michael Robinson and Timothy Morcott, playing a game of Exploding Snap. Robinson's eyebrows were singed, indicating that he had already lost several games.
"So if I understand correctly, you have to go straight up to that Tower of yours after supper, and you're not allowed to have visitors?" Pansy inquired after having written a short paragraph.
"No. And I'm not allowed to leave until the next morning, either, except when I still have class in the evening," Draco replied bitterly.
Pansy leaned against his arm with her head on his shoulder. "I don't understand why you're so severely punished and I'm free to go wherever I want," she said softly.
Draco sighed. "You don't have the Mark branded on your arm, and you didn't attempt to kill the Headmaster, injuring two students in the process. Oh, and you didn't have a bunch of people locked up in your basement for a couple of months."
"Not in this past century, no," Pansy snorted, and Draco smirked at her.
They noticed that Perks had gotten up and started gathering her things and Pansy checked her watch. In twenty minutes their last class before dinner would start, which was Divination for Pansy and Arithmancy for Draco. They walked up to the ground floor together and parted ways in the Entrance Hall, as Pansy was headed for the North Tower and Draco had to go up to the seventh floor.
"Malfoy, wait up," a voice called out at him.
He looked around and saw Nott leave a classroom, and halted until the boy had caught up on him. As they walked they briefly discussed their Defence Against the Dark Arts class from earlier. Draco was glad that Nott didn't ask him questions about the Charms incident; he didn't want to think about the trouble he was in. They entered the classroom and saw that they were the last students to arrive.
Arithmancy was a fascinating subject, but not many people understood the appeal which resulted in small classes. Apart from himself and Nott, the class consisted of only two Gryffindors, one Hufflepuff and three Ravenclaws. Professor Septima Vector, a witch with long, black hair and a fondness for velvet robes and matching pointed hats, took the register and scanned the classroom with a stern look. She was known among students as a really strict teacher, so much so that some students had been unsure whether to take her classes, even if they were very interested in Arithmancy.
After having checked her list, Professor Vector revealed her instructions on the blackboard and immediately started her class. "Good afternoon and welcome back. Coming term we will study both Isopsephy and Gematria. We have a very tight schedule and a lot to cover, so expect large amounts of homework. Now, Mr Entwhistle, could you tell us what Isopsephy is?"
Kevin Entwhistle, a Ravenclaw Mudblood, sat up a little straighter. "Isopsephy is the practice of adding up the number values of the letters in a word to form a single number. It's one of the earliest known Arithmancy practices and originates in Ancient Greece."
"Well illustrated, Mr Entwhistle, ten points to Ravenclaw. Now, Mr Malfoy, please tell us what Gematria is and how it differs from Isopsephy."
Draco frowned and tried to recall what he had read the night before. "Gematria is a traditional Jewish system of assigning a numerical value to a word or phrase. It differs from Isopsephy in its origin, which is Hebrew instead of Greek, and in the search for different outcomes. Isopsephy searches solely for the value, Gematria searches for the meaning behind the value," he drawled.
Professor Vector nodded appreciatively. "Yes, very good Mr Malfoy, take ten points for Slytherin. Now, we will start with Isopsephy and the letter values of the archaic Greek alphabet, so if you could all take a couple of these charts... Ms Roper, would you please be so kind to pass them around? Thank you."
After an hour of assignments in which they had to represent different numbers through the Greek symbols, they were assigned to write an essay in which they researched and explained both known variations of the Number of the Beast through the Isopsephic methods. The bell rang, and the students enthusiastically left the classroom to drop off their bags in their dorms and enjoy the free time they had before supper.
"Are you coming down to the dungeons?" Nott asked him as he collected his notes and headed for the door. Draco nodded and followed him. When they arrived in the Slytherin common room, Zabini immediately walked up to Draco with a sour expression on his face.
"Detention on Friday, directly after supper. We need to polish ever single suit of armour in the Armoury. We're not allowed to bring our wands," he spat.
Draco groaned in disgust and glared at his classmate. "Next time you claim to have a better idea, I'll provide you with a month's worth of detention myself, and I'll make sure it's something nasty."
Zabini shrugged at the threat. "At least I won't be so bloody bored," he drawled, clearly not impressed with Draco's threat. He turned around and disappeared toward the dormitories.
During their exchange, Nott had already settled down in one of the armchairs near the fire. He had taken out his Arithmancy books and was presumably already working on his essay. Draco joined him and decided to start on his essay as well.
~ X ~
Their free hour had gone by quickly and before Draco knew it, it was time for dinner, and soon after, isolation from everything but Granger. He reluctantly made his way up to the Great Hall with his classmates and seated himself between Pansy and Tracey Davis. He absent-mindedly listened to their bashing of other House students, poking his food around with his fork until Pansy gave him a sympathetic look.
"Eat something, or you'll starve tonight. You do realise you won't be able to sneak down to the kitchens, right?"
With a sigh, Draco threw down his fork. "It's just ridiculous. I'm allowed to spend time in the dungeons during the day, but they lock me up with a sodding Gryffindor during the evening. That's not even the worst part; I could just avoid her by staying in my dorm, but what am I supposed to do all evening?"
Nott smirked at him from across the table. "Your homework."
"In which case you should probably stay in the common room and start a study group with Granger, high grades ensured," Tracey Davis added, sniggering and earning a glare from Draco that shut her up immediately.
"Maybe if you keep a low profile and behave the way they expect you to, they'll let you come back down to the dungeons after a while," Pansy suggested. "Think about it, they're testing you, right? If you behave accordingly and be a responsible Head Boy, you passed the test."
The Slytherins remained quiet for a while, thinking about what Pansy had just said. Nott was the first to speak up. "That's actually not too far-fetched."
Draco frowned in thought. "Perhaps... If I phrase it right, Granger might even cooperate. She hates the arrangements as much as I do."
"You might want to avoid Zabini, then," Nott said quietly. "He's not happy to be back and he's desperate to find a way out, and I don't think he cares if he takes someone down with him, which you have already experienced during Charms."
"Where is he, anyway?" Greengrass muttered, who was sitting next to Nott.
Pansy motioned her head to the left. "At the far end of the table, with your sister." Greengrass raised her eyebrows in surprise and glanced at Zabini, who was sitting next to a girl with dark brown hair. They seemed to be having an animated conversation.
"I didn't even know you had a sister," Draco commented with a smirk. "Is she as cold as you are?"
"I'm not cold," Greengrass snapped, and Pansy and Davis chuckled, staring down at their plates with amused expressions on their faces. The blonde girl crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at her friends for a moment before returning her glare to Draco, who was still smirking. "Damn you three," she muttered when she realised that they were teasing her.
They continued their meal with lighthearted conversations, occasionally teasing each other. Much too soon the leftovers disappeared and the table was cleared. The students left their tables to make their way to their common rooms. "See you tonight, Draco," Pansy said softly when she and the other Slytherins headed downstairs, and Draco made his way up to his quarters alone, feeling more irritated than ever.
~ X ~
Draco had been lying on the couch reading through his Arithmancy book for at least an hour when Granger entered the common room with a package in her hands. He had finished the first half of his essay and was now researching the second part. Granger muttered a greeting and disappeared to her dorm. After a little while, she came back downstairs and put down some books on the coffee table and sat down in one of the armchairs across from him, clearly determined to show him she wasn't going to let his presence keep her from using the common room.
"Are you working on the essay?" she asked him, eyeing the book he was holding. He briefly looked up and nodded, instantly returning his attention to what he was reading. He heard her sigh before she opened a book, noisily browsing through the pages and interrupting his focus. Draco looked up, irritated, and then recognised the book she was reading. He closed his own book with a loud snap and sat up, staring at the book with suppressed excitement.
"Where did you get that?"
Granger looked up at him with a brief confused expression on her face until she realised what he was referring to. She glanced down at the book in front of her and her cheeks turned a little pink. "I–um–borrowed it from Professor Dumbledore..." she muttered.
"You stole it," he concluded, slightly amazed that this girl didn't seem to fully conform to the reputation she maintained among her fellow students.
"No..." Granger made a really uncomfortable impression. "It's complicated, okay? Please don't ask me questions."
Draco was now openly smirking at her. "You're not as innocent as you'd like to come across, are you? I wonder what people will say when they hear that their Head Girl stole one of the darkest and most dangerous books known to mankind."
"I didn't steal anything!" Granger snapped. "I didn't receive this book with permission, fine, I'll admit that, but that's only because Professor Dumbledore died a few days before I got it, and he knows I have it, okay?" She glared at him for a moment before she looked down at the book again. "I can't believe I have to justify myself, to you of all people," she huffed.
"You started defending yourself before I asked you anything," Draco pointed out in a drawl, eyeing the book Secrets of the Darkest Art with hungry eyes. "May I see that once you're done with it?"
"No, you may not," she answered curtly as she turned another page. "When I'm done with this essay it's going back to where it belongs: the Headmistress' office."
"Fine," he groaned grumpily in disappointment and he opened his Arithmancy book again, searching for the page he was reading earlier. Each worked on their own essay in silence, the only sounds came from flipping pages and the scribbling of quills on parchment.
After about an hour, Draco threw down his quill and stretched until his back cracked.
Granger shuddered at the sound but continued writing. He observed her, briefly wondering why she didn't attempt to control all that hair. He decided that this was a good moment to propose Pansy's idea. Granger glanced up and caught him looking at her. "What?" she asked grumpily, narrowing her eyes at him, clearly suspicious of the reason why he was staring at her.
"I have a proposition."
She didn't move and her expression didn't change. "I'm probably not interested," she muttered.
"I think you are," he answered. "Unless you'd like to share these quarters with me for the rest of the year."
Granger moved a little, but kept looking at him in scepticism. Her expression was doubtful, but she was unable to hide her curiosity. "If you think you would be able to trick Professor McGonagall into letting you go back to the dungeons, then I don't think you know her very well."
Draco raised his eyebrows. "I'm not trying to trick anyone. I know the old hag well enough to know she's not that easy to persuade."
"Don't you dare call her an old hag after she allowed you back," Granger snapped.
"Do you want to hear what I have to say or what?" he spat back. They glared at each other for a moment.
"Fine," she sighed in defeat. "If you really think you have a brilliant plan, please, do share."
He decided to hold his tongue and start explaining his plan. "McGonagall's decision of me being Head Boy was initially just to keep me under supervision. She wants to see how I handle my duties and whether I've changed." Granger stared at him, and he could read the judgement in her eyes. "I know you're well informed on everything I've done, and more importantly, what I haven't done," he continued. "You know my motives."
"Do I?" she inquired softly, and Draco shot her another glare.
"You know I did what I had to do to protect myself and my family. I realised it was an impossible task as soon as I started and I tried to find another way."
"Do you even hear yourself?" Granger asked softly, a cold tone to her voice. "It's like you're talking about a homework assignment. You tried to kill the Headmaster and severely injured two students in the process, nearly killing them instead."
"And I would do it all again if it guaranteed my family's safety," he replied coldly, not sure if he honestly meant that. The past two years had been hell, and Draco genuinely felt bad about the things he'd done. He had never intended for those students to get hurt, even though he didn't particularly like either one of them, but there hadn't been any other way. That was what he kept telling himself, what made him able to sleep at night.
"I thought you had changed," Granger said in the same soft, cold tone as before. "I honestly thought you weren't as evil as people always claimed. But you're a true Slytherin, aren't you, Malfoy? Using any means to achieve your ends, even if it means killing a couple of people in the process."
He brought his hands down to the table with a loud smack, causing Granger to jump a little. "You are close to crossing the line, Granger. Don't you dare claim you know me, because you don't. You have no idea what I've been through."
Anger flickered in Granger's eyes. "No, of course I don't," she bit back with evident sarcasm. "I can't possibly imagine what you must have endured. As the parents of one of Harry Potter's best friends, my family was perfectly safe, of course," she spat, her words thick with sarcasm.
"Be it as it may, you were in a completely different situation and you still have no idea what it feels like to be pushed into corners with no possibility to even turn around."
"I do," came her soft answer, and she suddenly sounded vulnerable. "But you're right, I have no idea what it must have been like for you. And I have no idea what I would have done had I been in your situation."
She took him off guard and Draco stared at her in slight bewilderment, wondering what had happened that changed her mood so quickly. He observed her for a little while as she stared at the table with sad eyes. She made him feel very uncomfortable.
"There is no point to this argument, so let's forget about it," he muttered quickly, trying to shake off this uncomfortable atmosphere. "My point is that I need this position, as I already told you before. And I'm willing to behave accordingly and work on my inability to take responsibility," he said, mimicking her tone from earlier.
"And then what?"
"You don't want to be stuck here with me all year, I don't want to be stuck here with you, either," Draco said impatiently. "You're the one who has to report my behaviour; McGonagall trusts you. You could suggest a trial period in which I have to behave and act like a responsible Head Boy... if I pass, I'd be free to go back to the dungeons."
Granger stared at him, a sceptical look on her face. "And you think you can do that? This includes a civil attitude and treating your fellow students respectfully. That includes me and other Muggleborns."
"I know," he grumbled.
She eyed him suspiciously, seemingly deep in thought. "Fine, let's do this. But before I propose this to Professor McGonagall, I want to see that you mean it. Starting now. If you behave accordingly for... let's say two weeks, I'll try my best to convince her that this is a good idea. If you can't do it, then I won't even mention it to her."
"Why complicate this any further? You have nothing to gain from not proposing it!" Draco snapped.
"I happen to take my duties seriously, Malfoy, and I feel strongly about standing behind my actions. You want out? That's fine, so do I, but I won't help you until you show some changes that indicate that you actually care about doing well this year," Granger snapped back.
"One week."
"You are in no position to negotiate, Malfoy. I'm not the one that's stuck here; I can leave whenever I want and see whoever I want. A two week trial or no deal, it's up to you," she said in a snobby tone, turning her attention back to her essay.
"Fine," he snarled, finally losing his composure, already regretting having given her so much power over him. He knew it was necessary; he wanted to get out of these quarters and he would have to work hard for it. She had been right when she said he was a true Slytherin; he did use any means to achieve his ends, even the unpleasant ones as long as it meant that he would get his freedom back.
He watched her write another paragraph and his mind wandered off to the previous year. Draco knew that Granger had gone off with Potter and Weasley to search for Horcruxes to defeat the Dark Lord. The papers had written about them all summer, describing them as an extraordinary trio, saving the Wizarding world. Even though all of it was probably true, it had been sickening to read.
"What now?" Granger sighed, sounding annoyed.
Draco snapped out of his thoughts. He hadn't realised that he had been staring at her. "Nothing," he shrugged.
She studied him for a moment. "Then please stop looking at me, it's distracting."
"I was just wondering why you're writing your essay about Horcruxes."
"Why wouldn't I be writing about it?" she asked, but her voice was soft and sounded unsure.
"You're the one who had to deal with them, not me," Draco drawled, frowning at her determination to tiptoe around the subject. If she was willing to write about it, she should be able to talk about it too.
"Which is exactly why I'm writing about it, to deal with it," she retorted quietly as she welcomed the Weasley-cat onto her lap. The beast circled two times and laid down, purring softly as Granger scratched him behind his ears.
"What is that?" Draco spat in disgust, eyeing the cat.
Granger shot a glare at him, clearly indicating that he had offended her. "This, Malfoy, is a cat. His name is Crookshanks and he's a half-Kneazle."
"He's ugly," Draco remarked.
"Well, you're not exactly blessed with a flawless appearance either," Granger countered crossly. "And unlike you, Crookshanks happens to be pleasant company."
He snorted at that. "What a ridiculous name. You could have fooled me into believing it was Weaselbee in his Animagus form if I hadn't been aware of his dreadful Transfiguration skills, or rather, his complete lack thereof."
To his surprise, Granger snorted in amusement. "I wouldn't let Ron hear that you compared him to Crookshanks if I were you, they don't particularly like each other."
"As if I care about what Weasel King likes," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes at this unexpected comeback.
Granger sighed and raised her eyebrows at him. "Has anyone ever had the heart to remind you that weasels and ferrets are distant relatives?"
Draco felt his blood creeping up to his face and he stared at her in anger as he remembered the incident in their fourth year when Moody had temporarily transfigured him into a ferret, and the way Granger had mocked him with that by pretending the blasted Professor was standing behind him when he had made fun of her.
He noticed the smug look on her face as she pushed the cat off her lap, gathered her books and once again left, taking away any opportunity to have the last word for the second time today.