Wednesday, 18 November 1998
Draco sat outside McGonagall's office, staring intently at the closed double doors and trying to wrap his head around what was happening inside. Quite frankly, he had no idea what was going on in there. He didn't even know why he was summoned here, because dinner had ended quite a while ago and normally he would have to be up in the Head's Tower by now. He had expected it to be Head's business, but then Granger was called inside separately and he was asked to wait, which was rather strange.
What was even stranger, though, was that inside the office, Granger was shouting.
The idea that the Head Girl was shouting at the Headmistress, her former Head of House and mentor, widely known as one of Granger's role models, was about as strange as the thought of her cheating on a test. As strange as the idea of the Weasleys not being poor. As ridiculous as the mere suggestion that Potter would have succeeded in ridding the Wizarding World of the greatest evil of all time all by himself, without the help of dozens of better and more skilled witches and wizards.
He couldn't help but admit that he was curious and slightly excited. Granger was misbehaving and he quite liked that idea. Unable to fight his curiosity any longer, Draco rose from the windowsill he had been sitting on and slowly moved closer to the doors, trying to hear what was going on in there, but he only caught bits and pieces.
"…ridiculous!…"
"…my parents!..."
"…they're Muggles!..."
"…explain?…"
"…cannot believe…"
"…doesn't know?!..."
After a few moments of muffled conversation, someone—Granger, he assumed—stomped angrily at the door and Draco quickly sat back down on the windowsill and put on his best poker face. The door opened, and a very upset Granger rushed out the office and straight towards him, and his poker face faltered slightly in bewilderment.
"If you have the nerve to give me a hard time about this, I will hex you into oblivion!" she shrieked furiously as she pointed a trembling finger at him. After saying that she whirled around to face the Headmistress, who was still sitting behind her desk, watching Granger with a look on her face that Draco could only describe as tired but understanding.
"And you will not hold me responsible for losing my self-control!" she snapped at Professor McGonagall, her voice hoarse from suppressing her tears. Then she turned and ran down the stairs, disappearing out of view.
"You may enter, Mr Malfoy," Professor McGonagall announced tiredly. Draco reluctantly did as she asked and closed the doors behind him, nervously sitting down in one of the chairs facing the Headmistress. He couldn't help but feel anxious. She was clearly about to bring him some news that he wouldn't like, and it had to be really bad to upset Granger like this.
"I must admit that I was under the impression that you and Ms Granger were getting along better and that this wouldn't be such a shock. Clearly, I miscalculated," the Headmistress said with a sigh. "However, I'm not going to attempt to sugarcoat the message. You are to visit Ms Granger and her parents during the Christmas holidays."
Draco inhaled sharply and could just feel his carefully composed facial expression shatter as he stared at the old witch sitting on the other side of the desk in shock. "And why would I do that?!" he snapped after a while.
"You will do that, Mr Malfoy, because you will otherwise fail the class that I have personally assigned to your timetable, which means you will fail the personal development that I decided was crucial," McGonagall answered, her lips pursed in disapproval. "Which also means that you will violate one of the conditions that allowed you to come back here in the first place."
"And then what? I spend an entire day at their house, and then what?" he snapped, a bit louder than intended. Several portraits of former Headmasters and Headmistresses were voicing their disapproval, scolding him for being disrespectful and going against one of their colleagues. He didn't pay attention to them; he could only glare at Professor McGonagall.
"What good could possibly come from that?"
"Mr Malfoy, you knew from your very first week back that you would have to visit a Muggle family. Professor Wilberforce has asked you repeatedly to make arrangements yourself, which you failed to do so. She has warned you only a week ago that she would make arrangements for you if you failed to take matters into your own hands. As I said before, I was under the impression that you and Ms Granger were getting along better, but even though you don't, our decision is final. We still have half a year ahead and the two of you clearly need some assistance in putting aside your differences."
Draco could still only glare and barely managed to keep himself from standing up and smashing all of McGonagall's belongings against the walls. He sneaked a glance at the portrait of Dumbledore, but the old wizard had his eyes closed and seemed to be sleeping. He couldn't believe this. He refused to believe this.
"If you don't have questions, Mr Malfoy," McGonagall announced coolly, "you may go."
He jumped up immediately and rushed out of the office and down the circular stairs. He marched through the corridors without bothering to avoid the other students, roughly shouldering past them without as much as paying attention to the indignant exclamations around him. When he finally reached the top of the Astronomy tower he slowed down and allowed himself to take deep breaths of cool evening air, forcing himself to calm down.
It was simply unbelievable how awful his week had been since Friday. He had lost his self-control and hexed Zabini down the stairs after which he was dragged into Slughorn's office to be yelled at for what seemed like an hour. Zabini had been excused from his detention for a week and he would have to take his place. Slughorn had taken away fifty points from Slytherin and he had given him an official final warning. If he misbehaved one more time he would be stripped of all his titles and privileges. There would be no tolerance left for his actions whatsoever, and they would expel him for the first error, no matter how minor.
Pansy was furious with him and refused to talk to him or even be in the same room with him if she could avoid it, something that hurt him more than he would ever admit, even though he understood. Not only had he hurt one of her close friends, he had also pretty much attacked Zabini in the same way as someone had attacked her earlier this year. On top of all that, he had lost the first Quidditch game of the season. He had lost against Gryffindor. Against the female Weasley. Against a little fourth-year girl who had never played Quidditch before in her life and who wasn't even from Magical parents.
After having stared out over the Hogwarts grounds for a while, a folded parchment aeroplane circled around Draco's head and landed on his hands. With a groan he unfolded it, knowing that he was being reminded of his curfew.
Mr Malfoy—
You no longer have a legitimate reason to be violating your curfew. I urge you to get back to your common room at once, unless, of course, you would like to prolong your detention.
Signed,
Professor McGonagall
Draco forcefully crushed the parchment and threw it over the balcony, watched the yellowish ball disappear out of view and reluctantly made his way downstairs and back to the sixth floor. Just like that, his week had gotten even worse.
Friday, 20 November 1998
"Pansy…"
"Leave me alone, Draco. I don't want to talk to you."
"For Merlin's sake, Pansy, it's been a week!"
"Oh, well, say no more!" she snapped with heavy sarcasm. "Since it's been a whole week, I'll just toss my values from the Astronomy tower and forgive you, just like that! Would you like a grand public forgiveness speech or would you rather just retreat to the dorms for some private excitement?" She shot him a passionate glare, forcefully snapped her book shut and rose from the couch, grabbing Davis' arm and pulling towards the dormitories.
Draco sighed and sank back into the leather couch. This whole thing was messing with his emotions in ways he didn't understand. The year wasn't progressing in the way it should. His original plan had been to have been out of the Head's Tower by now, far away from Granger and back down in the Slytherin dungeons with the people he felt comfortable around. Instead, he was still trapped up there and now the person he cared about most within these castle walls was angry with him.
He was so plunged in thought that he hardly noticed someone sitting down next to him until a soft voice greeted him. When he looked beside him, Astoria Greengrass was looking up at him with a gentle smile and something in her eyes he believed to be concern.
"Hey," she repeated. "Are you alright?"
Despite hardly knowing the girl he felt an urge to tell her about his week, about how bad he felt about the whole Zabini-incident and how he wanted nothing more than to just make it up to Pansy. Instead of giving in to this urge, he settled for a half-hearted "I'm fine," and sighed.
"Pansy told me, you know," Astoria said softly. "She's not really as angry with you as she seems, it's just that she doesn't want to hurt Blaise's feelings by forgiving you easily. She figured that if she keeps this up long enough, you'll put your pride aside and apologise to him, since you refused to do that last time."
Draco groaned unhappily. Last time, Pansy had stayed at his side despite missing Zabini's company and being hurt because the boy ignored both of them. She had urged him to talk to him, but Draco had refused because he didn't like being told what to do, and also because he felt that it was the dark-skinned boy's fault. This time, though, it was his fault.
"That sly wench," Draco muttered, though the words didn't come out harshly. Instead, he smiled slightly. Astoria smiled back at him and then she stood up from the couch.
"I've got to go. Take care, alright?"
He watched her walk away and then decided that sitting here all by himself wasn't going to make him feel any better. He slipped out of the Slytherin common room unnoticed. Even though it was Friday evening, the corridors were quiet and not many students were out. Draco soon reached the entrance of the Head's tower but before he could mutter the password, the portrait slid to the left and Granger appeared in the portrait hole. As soon as her eyes found him her facial expression became grim and her shoulders tensed.
"Get out of my way," she hissed.
Draco raised his eyebrow and glared at her. "What the bloody hell have I done?" he asked indignantly.
"You know full well what this is about," Granger replied bitterly. "Now get out of my way or so help me I'll use my wand."
He sighed. "Is this still about Wednesday? My, what is it with witches and holding grudges for days?"
"You think this is a grudge?!" she snapped, and he tensed at the unexpected intensity of her anger. "I have modified my parents' memory for a year to protect them from people like you, and now McGonagall just throws you into my home, and you think this is a grudge?!"
"What is that supposed to mean?!" Draco snarled back.
"People like you!" she spat angrily. "Muggle haters! Evil wizards! Death Eaters! Pathetic people who have no legitimate reason whatsoever to hate Muggles. People like you!"
Draco took a step closer to Granger, which brought him inside the portrait hole. He heard the portrait slide to the right behind him, closing the common room off from the corridor. A brief uncertainty flickered through Granger's eyes but she kept glaring up at him despite it.
"Just because you never asked me about it doesn't mean I don't have a legitimate reason to hate your kind," he hissed at her.
"Really, Malfoy?" she bit back. "Then why don't you enlighten me?"
"You really seem to lack all the common Wizarding knowledge, Granger. It's things like this that prove that you don't fully understand the world you so dearly wish to be part of," sneered Draco. "The fifteenth century, does that ring a bell? Or else the seventeenth century, perhaps?"
Granger narrowed her eyes at him. "Does it look like I'm up for a game of guessing?"
"Fine, Granger," Draco said. "The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. Tell me why it's there."
She blinked her eyes in surprise. "To safeguard the Wizarding community from Muggles and to hide its presence," she said after a while, her tone uncertain.
"Very good, five points to Gryffindor for this flawless textbook answer," he mocked her. "Go on, Granger. Explain to me why the Wizarding community needed to retreat into secrecy."
Knowing she wouldn't respond, he continued. "You know what, I'll tell you instead. We had to live secret lives because your kind started hunting us down; persecuting us so they could eradicate us like rats. All that out of ignorance and jealousy. If you don't consider that enough legitimate reason to hate them, then I don't know what is."
"You hate Muggles because of something that happened centuries ago?!" Granger snapped angrily. "You don't know anything about Muggles in this time! You have no idea what they're like! Just because the pureblood society you so painfully cling to is stuck in some ancient mindset doesn't mean everyone is!"
"Oh, really Granger?" Draco snapped back. "Then please, do tell me how your parents react to your magical gift. Tell me all about how wonderful they think it is and how understanding they are of our world."
The Head Girl's cheeks reddened. "They are my parents, of course they support me and the choices I make—"
"That's not what I asked, Granger. I asked you to tell me whether or not they understand our world. I know they don't, because you yourself told me about a month ago that you had to protect them from an evil force from a world they don't understand. And how could they understand something they can never experience themselves? They try to and they support you, sure, but only because you are their daughter. If you were the girl from across the street and they knew, you would be considered a freak and you know it. It's a simple fact that it's in human's nature to be suspicious of what they don't understand. Muggles don't, nor will they ever, understand magic, and so they fear it."
"You can wrap it up in pretty words all you want but I know it all comes down to filthy prejudice," Granger sneered. "I know all about your ancestors and the despicable things they've done. Wasn't one of them an editor for the periodical Warlock at War, where he published about his hatred for Muggles and those who interacted with them? You can't tell me he did that out of concern for the Wizarding community and to protect them. I'm quite sure it was just a power rush to have his disgusting biased opinions published."
"I very much doubt you know anything about my family," Draco bit back in the same tone. He narrowed his eyes at the girl before him, realising that this heated argument was slowly becoming personal, and he wasn't sure whether he should continue. This little voice of reason, however, was overruled by his anger.
"If you did your homework so well you shouldn't be surprised to hear that quite a few of my ancestors have found their end at the hands of Muggles."
The look in Granger's eyes changed drastically. "What?" she breathed, and he glared at her in anger.
"Burned at the stake, Granger. Beheaded, drowned… Most of them weren't even adults yet, but mere children who weren't fully capable of controlling their magic yet."
He paused briefly, trying to compose himself. "You see, Granger. My family hasn't always hated Muggles. We have lived alongside them for many centuries and we were integrated into their high-class society. The Malfoys weren't always this wealthy, you know, my ancestors have worked hard for that. The first Malfoy who set foot on English soil was in service of William the Conqueror."
Granger's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't stop there.
"Then the Muggles became suspicious and witch-hunters started tailing my ancestors, who were accused of using magic to gain all their wealth and status. Some were sentenced to death while others were merely imprisoned for the rest of their lives, and even then my family still tried to keep the peace. When that proved unsuccessful the Malfoys finally cut off all ties with Muggle families and started embracing the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy: to protect themselves from these fear-driven people who only wanted us dead, or to use our magic for their own Muggle ends. And may I just add that we were one of the last large and influential families to do so? So much for not having a legitimate reason, right, Granger?"
The Head Girl stumbled backwards and sank down on the couch while staring at nothing in particular. "I—I had no idea," she muttered after a while.
"Of course you didn't," Draco sneered, stepping forward to lean against the armchair closest to him. "How could you know when I never chose to tell you before?"
She shot him another glare and the common room went silent for a while. "I think you're right, though," she murmured after a long pause. Draco's head snapped up and he raised his eyebrows at her. He certainly hadn't expected this.
"You know," Granger continued softly, "there is so much I have never dared to tell my parents because I just know they wouldn't understand. It's also why I modified their memories, rather than tell them about the War. If something had happened to me they would have labelled all magic as evil, even though guns are generally more destructive than magic and the Muggle world is more often at War than the Wizarding world."
He blinked his eyes a few times when Professor Wilberforce seemed to whisper in his ear. A gun is a normally tubular weapon device designed to discharge projectiles more commonly known as bullets. Throughout history, Muggles have used various kinds of guns in battles and wars. Being hit by a bullet causes injury, varying from minor to severe depending on the spot, and can also result in death.
"If I had told them I was discriminated against because I wasn't born into a Wizarding family they wouldn't have wanted me to go back for my third year. If I had told them that a fellow student had died in a magical tournament at the hands of a wizard that was supposed to be dead they wouldn't have let me go back for my fifth year, and if they knew that I was injured from a battle against said wizard's followers…"
Granger sighed. She then seemed to realise that she had just spilled some personal information and her facial expression became guarded again. She glanced up at him with a thoughtful frown on her face. "You still haven't told me why you hate me, though," she stated after a while. "I am not a Muggle. I'm as much a witch as your mother."
Draco raised his eyebrow again. "I hardly think it's appropriate that you compare yourself to my mother," he sneered. "And I don't hate you, Granger. It would be petty of me to hate you because you beat me academically, or because you're Muggleborn. Even your questionable friendships are hardly enough reason to hate you."
He paused. "What I hate about you, though, is that because of your magic, my world is exposed to Muggles and that's something I'll never understand. Witches and wizards who marry Muggles are not allowed to tell their spouses about magic, but Muggle offspring is allowed to involve their parents in everything. It's people like you that makes us vulnerable."
"But my parents guard my secret!" Granger snapped defensively. "How dare you suggest that they would expose the Wizarding world!"
"They will once something happens to you, Granger!" he bit back sharply. "You just told me yourself that if something happens to you, something magical, they will label it as evil. If you don't think they'll declare war on the Wizarding world you're pathetically naive!"
The common room went silent and the Head Girl was glaring at him with an indignant look in her eyes, apparently feeling thoroughly insulted. "And you wonder why I'm so angry about the fact that you're coming over during the holidays," she said softly after a while, her voice bitter. "I swear to Godric, Malfoy, if you have the nerve to behave like this in my home, I'll curse you in so many different ways that even your own mother won't recognise you afterwards."
With those words she got to her feet and rushed past him, disappearing through the portrait hole. Draco sank down into the chair he had been leaning against and let out a string of air, trying to ignore the cold shivers that went down his spine. The idea of having to be among Muggles for an entire day unnerved him immensely.
He would never admit it to anyone, but they sort of… scared him. There were so many of them and they had been so vicious in the past… He didn't believe a word of what Granger had said. There was no way Muggles in this time and day were any different. He just wished he wouldn't have to see it for himself whether or not that was true.
Monday, 30 November 1998
"Mr Malfoy, Ms Parkinson, I'd like you two to stay behind for a moment, please," Professor Wilberforce requested after the lecture was over.
The other students collected their belongings, shouldered their bags and left the classroom quickly and quietly. Draco glanced at Pansy, who still wasn't talking to him but didn't seem all that angry anymore. He suspected that Astoria Greengrass was right about what she had said. He sighed dejectedly. This had gone on for long enough now. He would apologise after this class. Sighing, he glanced at her again. She was staring straight ahead, not acknowledging him.
A knock on the door made him turn around and Granger, Thomas and the Ravenclaw Mudblood, Entwhistle, entered the classroom, followed by a sixth-year Hufflepuff girl he recognised from the Prefect meetings. "Ah, you're right on time," said Wilberforce, smiling at the newcomers. "Please sit down and I'll explain to you what's expected of you."
"What are you doing here?" he heard Granger whisper to Thomas.
"I'm paired up with Zabini," Thomas whispered back. "My parents are Muggles, remember? Just because I recently discovered that my real father was a Wizard doesn't mean they're suddenly not Muggles anymore," he laughed.
They all sat down and Draco noticed that Entwhistle grabbed the hand of the younger Hufflepuff girl as he shot worried glances at Pansy, who was still staring straight ahead, not acknowledging anyone.
"Well," the Muggle Studies Professor started, looking around the group. "Mr Thomas, I suppose there isn't really any reason for you to be here. Mr Zabini doesn't seem to have had a change of heart, and if I'm truthful, I don't expect that to change. However, just in case he does adapt, please stay, alright?"
"Yeah, sure," the dark-skinned Gryffindor said with a shrug. Pansy snorted and shook her head slightly, and Draco knew it was because there was no way Zabini would ever adapt to a situation like this. Wilberforce was naïve if she hoped otherwise.
"Very well. Just to refresh your memories: Ms Granger, you've been paired up with Mr Malfoy. Seeing as you're both Head students and have to work together for the majority of this year, both the Headmistress and I thought this might give you that little persuasion you need to put aside your differences."
Draco raised his eyebrow and glanced over at Granger who was frowning at the older witch. She briefly glanced in his direction, clearly still not agreeing with their plan. Since their conversation little over a week ago they hadn't spoken much. He had managed to persuade her to help him finish his Muggle Studies essay, which she had, albeit reluctantly. She was clearly still struggling to wrap her head around the fact that he would have to spend a day at her home with her parents, and he had the same difficulty.
"Mr Entwhistle, you have been paired up with Ms Parkinson. Because your sister is a student here to," she smiled and nodded at the Hufflepuff girl, "we felt that it was only fair to have her prepared as well. You have been paired up with Ms Parkinson because it has come to my attention that in all the years of education here at Hogwarts, you two have never interacted before."
Now that he knew they were related, Draco found that the resemblance between the Entwhistle siblings was evident. Both had the same honey-blonde hair and the same big, blue eyes. They also had the same dimples when they smiled, and he could imagine that their innocent looks made them very popular with the opposite gender.
"Mr Thomas, you have been paired up with Mr Zabini for much the same reason, although, as you already know, the chances of his visit are slim."
"Oh no, such a shame," the boy muttered and Professor Wilberforce smiled at him with sympathy, apparently thinking Thomas was being serious.
"You are probably wondering what I expect from this visit and I will tell you. The visit has to be at least twelve hours long. In this time, it is up to the host to show the visitor as many Muggle activities as possible and explain daily routine. At least two meals have to be included and the visitor is required to actively participate. Additionally, the visitor is required to have conversations with the hosts that gives them more insight into daily Muggle life. I want a report consisting of two rolls of parchment. It is expected of the host to make sure the visitor makes the most of their visit and puts in an effort. You will be interviewed afterwards and you will assist me in grading the visitors. Is this assignment clear to you all?"
Everyone muttered unenthusiastically in response. Draco sighed. He just couldn't wait to spend an entire day with Granger and her Muggle parents, especially not when he knew she had all the power.
"Good, good," the older witch smiled. "The deadline for the assignment is the 31st of January. Please make sure to arrange everything together in time. You may go."
While everyone rose and turned to leave, Draco gently placed his hand on Pansy's shoulder, keeping her from leaving too. She tensed a little and turned around with raised eyebrows, but made no move to shrug his hand off. "What?" she hissed at him over her shoulder. He placed his hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her to the door. Once they reached the corridor, he let go of her, sighing when she stared up at him, half expectantly and half annoyed.
"I want to apologise to you," he said softly. "I'm sorry for what I did."
Pansy's eyes widened slightly. He had never apologised like this before. Usually, he showed her he was sorry, doing everything he could to avoid actually having to say it. This time, showing hadn't been enough. She hadn't even given him a real chance to do so.
She recovered remarkably quick, raising her eyebrows at him once again. "It's not me you should be apologising to," she said in her snobbiest tone. "It's Blaise. Now, if that's all you wanted to talk to me about, I have to go, if you don't mind."
"Damn it, Pansy, I miss you!" Draco snapped in annoyance.
She stubbornly kept her pale blue eyes down, seemingly examining her shoes. "If you really do miss me so much, then stop being such a proud prat and just bloody apologise," she said softly. With those words, Pansy turned around and left for the Great Hall.
He stared after her, his mood a mixture between slight anger and annoyance. He then resolutely turned around and nearly ran down the stairs to the dungeons. Reaching the entrance of the common room, he spat the password and slipped through the crack in the wall that appeared.
Inside the common room were only a handful of Slytherins, lounging on the couches or studying at the tables. Two of his teammates, Morcott and McGruder, were playing Exploding Snap, and in the corner, near the fireplace, Zabini sat with Astoria in two leather armchairs, quietly conversing.
Draco marched towards them with clenched fists and halted next to Zabini. "I'd like to have a word," he announced softly, raising his eyebrow at his dark-skinned classmate. "Alone, please."
Astoria rose gracefully and disappeared from the sitting area without a word. Draco sat down in the seat she had vacated and exhaled uncomfortably. Zabini was glaring at him with suspicion, waiting for whatever he was about to say.
After a short inward battle, Draco shoved his pride out of the window and cleared his throat. "I want to apologise for hexing you down the stairs. I shouldn't have lost my self-control. I'm sorry."
Zabini narrowed his eyes at him, momentarily taken aback and surprised. After a moment of silence, an arrogant smirk slowly spread on his face, and he lifted his chin. "Say that again, will you?" he requested softly. "A bit louder, please."
Glaring at his classmate, Draco cleared his throat again. "I'm sorry, Zabini," he managed reluctantly through clenched teeth.
Morcott and McGruder glanced over at them with amusement, quietly making fun of his apology and snickering amongst themselves until McGruder let out a yelp, throwing his hand of smouldering cards away from him.
"Thank you, Malfoy," Zabini said softly, sounding cold and insincere, and his smirk quickly faded from his features. "I... appreciate it."
Draco studied him for a moment, feeling surprised with his classmate's attitude. He simply didn't seem smug enough. It was only then that he noticed a trunk standing beside their chairs, and he shot a questioning glance at Zabini, who arched an eyebrow in response.
"I'm leaving," he announced softly. "Finally I won't have to endure this dreadful school and its awful teaching staff any longer. Mother will see that it's for the best," he added softly, more to himself than to his company, seemingly not completely convinced of his own words.
Narrowing his eyes, Draco realised that he had never seen Zabini in any state of uncertainty before. The dark-skinned Slytherin was normally clouded in an air of arrogance and contempt, but right now he looked a little scared of what was to come. Apparently, the rumours about Mrs Zabini's reputation of being utterly unpleasant was true, even toward her own son.
After a moment, Zabini reached for a bottle that stood beside his chair, quickly conjuring up two glasses and filling them up with the liquor. Handing Draco a glass of Firewhiskey, they simultaneously raised their glasses at each other and drank in silence.
After a lengthy silence, a familiar aeroplane landed on Zabini's lap, who opened it wordlessly. "It's time," he announced softly, crushing the parchment and tossing it into the lit fireplace. Rising from his chair, he waved his wand to levitate his trunk. He looked down at Draco and gave him a small smirk that did nothing to mask the hollow gaze in his eyes.
"See you around, Malfoy."
"Likewise, Zabini," Draco returned with a nod. He watched his classmate make his way to the entrance of the common room, allowing a couple of fifth- and sixth-year girls to embrace him goodbye, among them Astoria. After that, Pansy, Davis and Daphne Greengrass entered the common room as well.
Pansy and Zabini stared at each other for a while, speaking quietly, before tightly embracing each other goodbye. When they released each other, Greengrass pressed her lips together in a tight line and surprised everyone by extending her hand, which Zabini shook. He turned around and gazed through the Slytherin common room one last time, completely ignoring Davis. He nodded at Draco and then disappeared through the crack in the wall.
Pansy smiled at Greengrass with gratefulness before turning and making her way to the dormitories. At the foot of the staircase she halted and slowly turned in his direction. When their eyes met, she smiled at him and Draco smiled back, relieved that she wasn't mad anymore.
As everyone went back to their normal routine, Draco sat back in his chair and slowly exhaled through his nose, trying to identify the strange feeling in his stomach. Somehow, he knew, he was going to miss Zabini's presence more than he was willing to admit.