Saturday, 6 February 1999

Draco slid down to the ground with his back pressed against the wooden wall of the stands surrounding the Quidditch pitch. His right hand was clenched around the Golden Snitch, but he didn't feel the high rush that normally followed catching it, because they hadn't won. The Snitch had tried to escape from his grip for a little while but ultimately gave up, letting its silver wings hang sadly from either side of Draco's fist, mirroring perfectly how he himself was feeling. He was completely soaked from the rain but he couldn't be bothered to find his wand to cast a rain-repellent charm on himself.

They had lost the game, again, even though he had caught the damned Snitch this time. He had severely underestimated Morag MacDougal as the new captain for the Ravenclaw team. She had her team trained to a T, and being the smart wench she was she had realised that she and her old Cleansweep were no match for him and his Nimbus 2001, and so she had let her Chasers do the winning for her. Catching the Snitch had not been relevant for her. The Snitch was just there to end the game; to put the Slytherin team out of its misery, something Draco hadn't realised until it was too late.

MacDougal had fully focused on captaining her teammates: flying around shouting instructions so they could do their jobs. From time to time she had sped up to the opposite side of the field, or she had made a steep dive to make him think she had seen the Snitch, but whenever he caught up with her she would just smirk at him and switch directions, and he would know he had been fooled. If it had been any other game he would have sincerely congratulated her on a fantastic strategy, but instead he hadn't even given her the courtesy of shaking her hand after the game. He was just glad his father wasn't here to witness this humiliation; he would likely never hear the end of it.

His face was warm and wet, but Draco honestly couldn't tell if it was from the rain or if there were tears. He sure felt miserable enough to be crying out here. Pathetic, really. He felt so lonely without Pansy. The Slytherin common room didn't feel like home anymore. The god-awful grief counselling sessions were exhausting even though he barely said two words during the appointments, and now even his beloved Quidditch had turned against him. Had the counselor been right? Was the game just an escape mechanism to him now? He drew in a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut as he bowed his head. He was going to break soon. There was no way he was going to be able to make it through the year like this.

Suddenly two warm hands gently touched his arms. "Oh, Malfoy…" a soft female voice uttered. "Come on. You'll get sick if you stay out here." Granger tugged at his arms but he remained seated, bowing his head down further so she wouldn't see his face until he had managed to compose himself.

"Malfoy, please, get up," she said, more urgently this time.

Draco roughly pulled his arms away from her hands and covered his head with them, hoping she would take a hint and leave him be. Then again, this was Granger he was dealing with, and he honestly couldn't name anyone who was more stubborn than this stupid bushy-haired Gryffindor. She proved that only a moment later when she lightly grabbed his shoulders.

"Malfoy, I'm not leaving without you. I won't let you freeze out here in the rain. Get up, please."

In a matter of seconds Draco got to his feet, towering over Granger in anger. He roughly shoved against her shoulders to push her away from him and glared at her with all the anger he could muster. "Leave me alone!" he snarled at her.

Granger stumbled backwards but regained her balance quickly. She glared at him with indignance and whipped out her wand before stepping closer to him again. "I'm sure I'd be doing plenty of people a favour by letting you die of hypothermia out here, but I'm a better and more responsible person than that," she snapped back at him. "Now stop being an insufferable git and let me dry you off."

Not giving him the opportunity to protest she started waving her wand around, and Draco immediately felt how his robes warmed and dried, making him feel a lot better in an instance. She pointed her wand at his head to quickly dry off his hair as well, and the wet locks that had clung to his forehead were released. Finally she pointed her wand upwards, creating an umbrella-like shield against the rain to keep them both dry.

"Go get changed," she muttered. "I'll wait."

Draco glared at the girl before him. She was being suspiciously amiable for someone he had never been particularly friendly to. She had been for weeks, even before he had prevented her untimely demise at the hands of Peeves, and for some reason that made him feel even worse. She wasn't simply repaying a debt. "What the hell are you doing?!" he hissed at her.

"I'm telling you to go get changed," Granger answered in a low voice.

"You know damn well what I meant," he growled in return, but the Head Girl didn't seem intimidated. She straightened her posture and narrowed her eyes at him.

"It's hasn't been terribly difficult to see that something has been bothering you for the past few weeks," Granger said finally. "And honestly, it's starting to worry me."

Taken aback by her words Draco could only stare down at her, replaying her last words in his head. With Pansy gone, no one really paid enough attention to him to him to notice how withdrawn he had been. Nott and Greengrass had mentioned how quiet they thought he was, but he had just told them it was because he missed Pansy. After all, it was one of the reasons for his mood. It just wasn't the whole truth, and they hadn't questioned it further.

But Granger was not his friend. He knew she was curious and observant, but he had to admit that it felt… good... to have someone notice; to have someone worry. It did strange things to him, and in this moment he felt too weak to fight his emotions from crawling up to the surface. His father would be incredibly disappointed if he saw him right now. He hadn't been emotional in public since he was a child, but to be accompanied by a Gryffindor Mudblood during one such moment was truly a new low. Draco drew in another shaky breath and he looked down again in a futile attempt to hide his tears.

"Oh, God," Granger breathed out with obvious worry. She hesitantly reached out and touched his arm in what was probably supposed to be an attempt at offering comfort. "Malfoy, please, is there something I can do?"

He once again roughly pulled his arm away from her hand. "Can't you just get lost?!" he snapped at her, but his voice was hoarse and cracked ever so slightly. "Just leave me… leave me be…" he trailed off, vaguely registering how soft and fragile he sounded.

"Draco…"

Her voice was gentle, a little doubtful and full of sympathy, and he froze at the sound. It had been weeks since someone had used his name and it sent a shiver up his spine. He slowly turned his head back at Granger and glanced up to find her eyes. Warm, brown, kind eyes without judgement but full of compassion. Eyes he had never expected to find comfort in, but beggars couldn't be choosers and she was the only one who had expressed any form of concern for him in the past month.

He should feel anger at her pity, or disgust at her meddling, but instead he felt his shoulders relax a little as he stared at her. Granger's eyebrows were slightly knitted together with worry as though she was waiting for him to lash out again; to maybe give her another shove, but for the most part her eyes were kind.

Draco slowly took a step in her direction, his eyes scanning her face for changes in her demeanour. She tensed ever so slightly, but there was no distrust in her gaze. Draco closed his eyes for a moment as he took a deep breath. There was a whirlwind of emotions inside his chest and he had a hard time identifying half of them. Still, he felt an undeniable appreciation for Granger's kindness, however strange that sentiment felt coming from her. It was more than he had received in weeks, and it provided him with a certain warmth inside his chest that he hadn't felt in a long time.

When he opened his eyes again he was met with the sight of the dreary, grey and rainy Quidditch pitch, and as quickly as it had found him did the warmth leave his chest again. Draco glanced down at Ganger and saw that the sympathy in her eyes was mostly replaced with anxiety, and he didn't like it. He needed the warmth back. His eyes flickered over her face and he resolutely settled on the decision to go and get it back himself.

Draco took another slow, measured step in her direction and slowly brought up his right hand. With his left he gently took her wrist, bringing her hand up to meet his. Granger glanced up at him and he could read countless questions in her eyes, but she didn't flinch at his touch. She opened her fingers and he handed her the Golden Snitch he had been holding this whole time. His hands lingered on hers for just a moment before letting go and he watched how she quietly examined the Snitch for a brief moment. When she looked up at him again there was an amused curiosity in her eyes, as though they playfully asked him why in the world he would give her a Snitch, and Draco decided that he liked this look.

His eyes trailed down to the amused little smile that played on her lips, and as he flicked his tongue over his own his mind went blank. He closed the last bit of distance between them and brought his hand up to her chin, pushing her head slightly upwards as he bowed down in one swift movement and pressed his lips on hers without giving it a moment's thought.

Granger whimpered softly against his mouth in protest and her hands shot up to his chest in a weak attempt to push him away, but the rigidness of her arms lessened considerably when he lightly trailed his fingers along her jaw and settled them on the back of her neck while deepening the kiss. Still, she didn't kiss him back, and her mouth, though soft and more relaxed than he would have expected, remained quite still against his. Draco could honestly say that the thought of kissing Granger had never crossed his mind until mere minutes ago. It was an uncharacteristically impulsive move on his part, but he would be lying if he said he didn't like the feeling.

When Draco broke the kiss after several long seconds she gasped softly, and he was vaguely aware of the fact that he was once again wet from the rain; they both were. Granger had placed one hand lightly on his chest, seemingly with no intention to push him away, while her other hand still held the Snitch. He leaned backwards just slightly to be able to see her face and smirked a little. Her cheeks were flushed along the cheekbones and her eyes, though averted, seemed unfocused. Her chest moved with rapid breaths and Draco realised that this—this, whatever it was—would be over soon.

He slowly stepped backwards and glanced down to see Granger's wand forgotten on the ground. He kneeled to pick it up and when he rose again he saw immediately that Granger had caught up with whatever it was that had just happened between them. The look in her eyes had become extremely guarded and she looked a little bewildered as she stared back at him.

Draco reached out and gently touched her hand, wordlessly asking for the Golden Snitch back. She stiffened at his touch this time, but released the Snitch into his hand a moment later as she accepted her wand back with her other hand. He held her gaze for a few seconds longer, trying to uncover something that would tell him what she was thinking, but he came up blank. Then he resolutely turned around and marched to the Slytherin locker room to change out of his Quidditch robes.

When he came back only fifteen minutes later, she was gone. Even though that didn't surprise him Draco couldn't fight back the little pang of disappointment. As he made his way back to the castle he determined that there were two possible places she would consider going right now, but then he quickly changed his mind.

He was pretty sure he knew exactly where to find her.

~ X ~

"Unitatem Pacis," Draco muttered. The portrait slid to the left and he stepped inside, immediately noticing the bushy-haired girl that stood in the center of the common room. He had been right. She whirled around at the sound of his footsteps and stared at him with wide eyes. She wasn't angry, he concluded, but she looked very confused.

"I thought you said you would wait," he said in a clear voice, nonchalantly setting down his Quidditch supply bag on the floor as he spoke.

"That was… before…" Granger murmured, seemingly temporarily incapable of forming coherent sentences. Her eyes flashed around the common room and Draco wondered how long it would take for her to figure out that he had never left the Head's Tower to go back to the dungeons.

"Do you always run away after Weasley kisses you, too?" he asked her. He sat down on the armrest of the chair beside him and studied her with concealed interest. "That really does a number on a guy's self-confidence, you know. I never took you for that kind of girl."

Granger's eyes snapped up at him and her shoulders visibly tensed. "You… you're actually acknowledging what you did?" she breathed out.

"It was just a kiss, Granger," Dracosaid evenly after a brief pause. "You've handled far worse things from me in the past, haven't you? Though it wasn't very Gryffindor of you to run away. I have to admit that I expected more from you."

She sank down on the couch, clearly struggling to keep her eyes on him. The common room was quiet for a while. "Why?" she asked in a soft voice, and Draco was once again struck by the vulnerability in her voice.

"I don't know," he admitted softly.

"Don't you play games with me, Malfoy," she muttered darkly.

"Granger, I am well capable of having a serious conversation," Draco snaped. "This isn't all part of some elaborate plan; you were witness to my post-game breakdown, I felt like shit and you were there. You were kind to me and I needed that. That is all there is to it."

The Head Girl stared at him with a deep frown on her brows. Despite everything that had happened today her eyes were still kind, and Draco couldn't help but be slightly envious of the optimistic worldview she apparently seemed to hold. She took a deep breath and looked away, only to glance up at him again immediately.

"Is this because of Parkinson?" she asked nearly inaudibly. Her voice was incredibly soft but Draco clearly heard the doubt. It was a risky question. One that he would normally label as prying, and one that he would normally punish instantly by lashing out. He wanted to, but he recognised that it was an instinctive response. Instead of giving in to that he took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten.

"It's a reason," he muttered finally.

"You miss her."

"Yes."

"But surely there are better-suited alternatives available within Slytherin House as a replacement for Parkinson," Granger said softly, and Draco couldn't fight back the cold glare that fought its way to the surface. She tensed under the glare and briefly broke off their eye-contact again.

"I don't want to replace Pansy," he said coldly. "What I've had with her I'll have with no one else. But that doesn't mean that I don't miss having someone to fall back on, and sometimes urges win against reason in a moment of weakness. So as long as you'll stay out of my way during any such moments, this will never happen again."

She stared at him and blinked her eyes, seemingly surprised with his intensity regarding Pansy, but she remained silent for a moment longer. Then she glanced around the common room again before resettling her gaze on him. "How did you know I'd be here?"

"A calculated guess," he answered easily. "I figured you would either go here or the Gryffindor Tower since the library is no place to panic. You strike me as someone who wants to make sense of something before facing your friends, to collect yourself first, so I assumed I'd find you here. But just so we're clear, I didn't follow you here. I'm just here to drop off my stuff."

"Drop off your…" Granger echoed quietly, and then her head snapped up. "Wait, what? Malfoy, are you telling me you stayed here? You fought tooth and nail to get out of this tower and now that you're finally allowed to move back to the Slytherin dungeons, you stay here?!"

He raised his eyebrows at her. "That was before," he answered shortly. "Things changed."

She opened her mouth but closed it again almost immediately, and she suddenly had a very understanding look in her eyes. "It's not the same without her down there, is it?" she questioned softly. "I understand that. I feel the same when I'm up in the Gryffindor tower without Harry and Ron."

Draco stared at her but didn't reply. There had been a time—not too long ago, in fact—where the thought of having an understanding with Granger seemed like the worst thing in the world. But things had changed, and funnily enough he drew a certain comfort from her lately.

As much as he had hated it, she had shown him time and time again that she understood what he was going through, and that she believed that it was possible for him to redeem himself if he played by the rules. A few months ago that had been a challenging prospect, but his pride had taken enough of a beating and he was ready to try a different approach. He wasn't supposed to like Granger, and though he was quite sure he didn't really like her, he also knew that he didn't really dislike her anymore either.

"I'm going back to the Gryffindor Tower," she announced softly, pulling him back to the present. He refocused his stare on her and saw that she was watching him carefully. He simply gave her a nod to indicate that he had heard her, and she rose from the couch.

"I'm… glad… that you've finally accepted that it's okay to lean on people when you're feeling down," she started hesitantly. "And if I can help you in any way, I would like for you to feel comfortable enough to ask me for it… but I don't appreciate being used in the way you did earlier. I will not be one of those girls."

"Noted," Draco replied in a forced drawl. "You can tell Weasley that it was a one-time digression. It will not happen again."

"This has nothing to do with Ron," Granger countered at once. Her voice was still soft, but her tone said clearly not to mess with her. "We're not together right now, but just because I'm not seeing anyone doesn't mean I'll just accept any advances made at me."

"Advances?" Draco let out a laugh. "Come now, Granger. Don't mistake one kiss for a personal advance at you. It wasn't personal, I probably would have kissed Longbottom had he been there. I'll admit that you're not—what's that phrase you use?—particularly unpleasant to be around anymore, but just because you happened to be around during a moment of weakness doesn't mean—"

"Shut it!"

Draco fell silent immediately and stared at her with concealed bewilderment. He had never heard Granger speak in such a hostile tone before, and he felt strangely compelled to oblige to her command.

"Don't you dare to put me down for being a decent person," she snapped at him, spitting out the words as though they were fire. "There were a hundred ways for you to respond to my being there, one of which included simply walking away, but instead of that you chose to kiss me. I don't care what your reasons were for doing that, but they were your reasons and they have nothing to do with me."

Granger took a deep breath and moved in the direction of the portrait hole. She halted next to him and took a moment to collect herself before meeting his eyes. There was an unmistakable anger visible in her gaze, and Draco was surprised to note that he didn't feel the urge to argue with her.

"I don't want to be your enemy anymore," she continued quietly, clearly forcing herself to be reasonable despite her anger. "I thought that our partnership had evolved into a sort of mutual respect for each other as people, but if this is how you're going to treat me then I don't—"

"I'm sorry."

Her mouth snapped shut at once and she blinked, and Draco exhaled slowly, never breaking off their eye contact. "You've been the only one outside of Slytherin House who has treated me decently," he said softly. "I don't have much of that left now that Pansy is gone. As for the kiss — I didn't do it for the right reasons, but I also wouldn't have done it if it were anybody else."

The Head Girl studied him for a moment. "You won't do it again," she stated finally. "I don't care how much you feel like shit or how big your next breakdown is, I am your fellow Head student and I never signed up for a partnership, let alone one that's more than strictly business."

"Noted," Draco said, echoing his earlier comment, this time without attitude. "It won't happen again."

Granger gave him a once-over before nodding her head. "Okay. Good," she concluded their conversation. With that she turned away from him and continued her path to the portrait hole, leaving him alone in their once-shared common room a moment later.

Draco sank down into the armchair he had been leaning against and exhaled slowly. Now that he was alone he was starting to realise what he had done. Not only had he kissed Granger, he had also told her why he had done it. He waited for the wave of regret to wash over him, but it never came.

Instead he was hit with the realisation that Granger was no longer an annoying know-it-all to him. She had mostly grown out of her bratty attitude from years before, and she wasn't nearly as stuck-up as she had always seemed. But most impressively, he thought, was that even despite everything that had happened in the last months of the Second Wizarding War, she had never lost her fierce and unyielding self-respect. Granger would never compromise who she was, no matter who demanded it from her, and Draco couldn't help but admire that.

He had kissed her, and instead of hexing him until his own mother wouldn't recognise him, she had allowed him to explain himself to her. She had responded with grace and understanding, yet she had still defended her boundaries. No, perhaps he didn't quite like Granger, but he did respect her, and he realised that it wouldn't take much to evolve that.

He also knew there were only two reasonable options available to him. He could give Granger the wide berth from now on, and this should honestly be the only option to even consider. The second option was continuing down the path they had been following for a while now, where they had developed some sort of respectful partnership in the form of what might be the beginning of a tentative friendship; where he found comfort in being with her to the point where the thought of kissing her made him feel better, and actually doing it made him feel happier than he had in weeks.

Something, somewhere, had gone terribly off-script, and he was in a world of trouble.