Hermione
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Hey, Hermione,
Bad week, eh? I'm sorry about your fall, it must have been really painful to have your two front teeth knocked out like that. Have you told your parents? And will the braces that the nurse put on you be able to straighten them out?
Or did you just want to do what I did and have a prettier smile than me? :)
I reread your last letters and I have to admit that I don't really understand this "tournament" thing. I understood that it was about sporting events between French schools, but I don't quite understand the panicky tone you take when you talk about it. You make it sound like Harry is going to die! If he loses, it's no big deal, is it?
Was the girls' boarding school allowed to take part too? You didn't say whether you'd signed up. I know sport isn't your thing, but I'm surprised you're not taking part in a school event, you Hermione Granger!
In any case, don't forget to tell me if Harry passes the first test at the end of November. If he's as good as you say he is, he should do well, I'm sure! Send him my best!
Things aren't quite as hectic here. It's freezing cold, but it's not snowing, which makes the city even more depressing. It is freezing, though, so there are patches of ice on the ground and I've already fallen twice on the way to school. A bit more and I'm going to break my teeth too! (too soon?)
School is as boring as it gets. I know you love it, so you're not going to agree with me. But maybe the French syllabus is better, because here, science and literature are pretty rubbish. The only good thing is that I've made a new friend since the start of the school year. Her name is Samantha, but everyone calls her Sam, and she's really nice. But don't worry: you're still my best friend.
Sam's really funny, she makes the time go by quicker. I only see her at break times and in music class, because she's in a different class to Adam and me. I'd like to say that you'd like her, but I'm not really sure. She's very daredevil and loves to break all the rules, all your opposites.
Apart from that, there's nothing new. At the moment we're studying surrealism, which is interesting but not my style at all. Anyway, if you've got any ideas of what I could do for the next course, I'd love to hear from you.
You didn't tell me much about the course in your letter last week, only about this 'tournament'. Are your teachers still as fascinating as ever? What's your favourite subject at the moment? And your least favourite (chemistry, I suppose?)?
I can't wait for your letters, they're my little ray of sunshine at the start of the week in this grey weather.
Have a great week!
Danny.
PS: Your mum told me you'd run out of jam, so I'm sending you a jar of orange jam. I hope you like it.
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Hermione smiled as she reread the letter she had received the day before several times, especially the part about winter. She couldn't imagine Danny in such weather, for her, he had always represented the sun. When she imagined him, she saw him tanned and with the tips of his hair blonded by summer.
She walked down the stairs into the Great Hall, where she saw Ginny sitting at the Gryffindors' table eating breakfast. She approached her and glanced at the Slytherin table, where Zabini, Nott and Parkinson were already seated. Malfoy was next to them, eating and listening to their conversation.
When she sat down opposite Ginny, the latter gave her a tired smile:
"Good morning to you. What are you doing here on such an early Sunday?"
"I couldn't sleep very well. What about you?" asked Hermione as she helped herself to some porridge.
Ginny leaned towards her and hid her mouth with her hand so as not to be overheard by the other students:
"I'm going to practise Quidditch, but I don't want my brothers to find out, so I'm doing it very early."
Hermione gave a small laugh and began to eat. There were only a few people scattered around the Gryffindors' table, and everyone was still too woozy to talk. Ginny poured herself and Hermione a large mug of black coffee and looked at the paper Hermione still held in her hand:
"What's this?" she asked gently.
Hermione appreciated Ginny asking, because Lavender and Parvati would probably have snatched it out of her hands, too eager to know everything.
"Oh. A letter, from a friend of mine back home. Danny." she replied.
"Danny?"
"Yes, he's my neighbour. We write to each other every week, and we spend our summers together."
"What's he like?" asked Ginny curiously, now very involved.
"Um... He's tall, brown hair, with a nice smile."
"Ohh." said Ginny quietly, with a sudden mischievous little smile hanging on her lips. "So, Hermione Granger can't decide between Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy and Danny?"
"Shhh!" intimated Hermione with a wide-eyed expression, much to Ginny's laughter. "Danny is my childhood friend, we just have a correspondence, don't go imagining things, Ginevra Weasley! And I have absolutely no feelings for Draco Malfoy!" she added in a whisper.
She turned discreetly towards the blond, as if he could have heard what Ginny had said in a whisper, even though he was three tables away from them. He was still deep in conversation with his friends and absentmindedly sipping his pumpkin juice.
"You were late getting back last night." Ginny pointed out as she sipped her coffee, teasing as ever. "Where were you?"
"I was... with Draco Malfoy." blurted Hermione lamely, after checking that no one around them could hear.
This time Ginny's eyes widened and she nearly spat out her coffee.
"What?" choked the redhead. "I was only joking! I didn't think... What were you doing with Draco Malfoy at 10pm last night?"
"Nothing, we were... just chatting."
Ginny's brown eyes were now inspecting Hermione intently, putting her in a very unpleasant half-shameful half-uncomfortable state.
"Are you continuing your study sessions in the Library?" the redhead asked.
Hermione then proceeded to tell her all about it, in the lowest whisper ever, so that Ginny had to lean over more and more to hear Hermione's blown confessions. By the end, Ginny hadn't drunk a drop of the coffee she'd been holding for ten minutes and her eyebrows were furrowed considerably.
"So? What do you think?..." asked Hermione piteously.
"To be honest, I don't really know. He looks very different from the Malfoy we know, but that doesn't change the fact that he insulted you, and that he hurt you."
"I haven't forgiven him for that." Hermione cut in. "And I'm not saying he's become my best friend, far from it, I don't even know if I like him or not. It's just that..."
"What...?"
"With Harry and Ron fighting at the moment, I'm constantly torn between the two of them, and it's exhausting." Hermione explained with a sigh. "With Malfoy, I don't have any of that, I'm different with him. He has interesting points of view, and it's good to listen to someone new..."
"Hello you two."
Ron's voice next to Hermione startled her so much that she slammed hard against the edge of the table, sending her bowl of porridge tumbling and making a funny noise.
"Oh, Ron!" she exclaimed, her cheeks burning. "What are you... what are you... what are you doing here?"
She hurried back to her bowl of porridge and tried to calm her heart rate, which had probably taken off. Fortunately, he didn't seem to have heard what Hermione had said before he arrived, probably still too sleepy. He sat down next to her, his hair still tousled.
"Dean woke me up, so I thought I'd go downstairs and get something to eat. Would you like to go and see Hagrid afterwards? It's been a while since we've been." Ron offered.
"Yes, sure."
"And you, what are you doing here so early?" asked Ron to his sister, nibbling a piece of toast.
"None of your business." replied Ginny snappishly.
However, her scathing tone was quickly lost as she spotted Harry coming through the doors of the Great Hall, looking more tired than ever. As soon as he sat down to Hermione's left, Ginny stood up suddenly, her cheeks flushed and carefully avoiding meeting the boy's gaze.
"I'm going." she said a little too quickly. "Hermione, I'll see you later."
She gave her a grave nod and walked out of the Great Hall. Harry, who was used to her running off and not talking, didn't look up and poured himself a large cup of coffee.
"Did you sleep well, Harry?" asked Hermione in a worried tone.
"Yes, perfectly. Sorry about last night, I..."
"Don't worry about it." she cut in, not wanting Ron to hear what he was about to say.
The night before, Harry had fallen asleep half slumped over her, so she had fallen asleep in turn. Harry had woken her in the middle of the night and she had gone back to her dormitory, her back sore from sleeping in such a position.
Hermione continued quietly:
"Harry, you really should get some rest today. Think about... the first Task, and all that..."
Her best friend's green eyes crinkled.
"How do you expect me to do that? I have no idea what to do, since I don't even know what I'm going to face." he said coldly.
"Maybe we should study Attraction spells? You're still struggling with Accio, aren't you?" she insisted.
Ron suddenly cleared his throat and Hermione turned her head towards him, her right, suddenly irritated:
"What?"
"Can you pass me the milk, please?"
"It's in front of Harry. Why don't you ask him?" she replied curtly.
She turned her head towards Harry again, but before she could speak, Ron had pulled his wand from his pocket and pronounced clearly:
"Accio milk."
The bottle slid towards him along the table. Hermione was sure he'd done that on purpose because Harry still couldn't make them, which pissed her off even more. Harry, on the other hand, was exasperated, his jaw clenched.
"I was saying..." Hermione resumed. "Why don't you and I study before lunch? What do you say?"
Before Harry could open his mouth, however, Ron swallowed his bowl of milk quickly and stood up, pulling Hermione by the sleeve at the same time:
"Come on, Hermione. It's time to go. To the place where we were both supposed to go, remember?" he said, emphasising the last words.
Hermione sighed loudly, but stood up anyway. Boys and their egos...
"Don't worry, you go ahead." Harry said quietly. "I'll see you later."
Ron was already turning on his heels to head to Hagrid's. She'd never seen him so determined to go in four years, he really could be immature when he wanted to be. She followed him with a sigh, turning her head slightly towards the Slytherin table as she walked to the door.
He was already looking at her, his grey gaze, though distant, as piercing as ever. He had a raised eyebrow, very subtle, but Hermione noticed it from where she was standing. He didn't look happy, but Hermione had no idea why. He watched her for a split second, then turned his head towards Zabini and paid no further attention to her at all.
Ron led her to the park. On the stairs to Hagrid's house, she caught up with him and took his arm:
"What were you thinking?" she asked, exasperation prickling her tone.
"What?" asked Ron.
"Over there, in the Great Hall! Don't you think Harry's got enough problems without you adding to them?" she snapped. "Why don't you two explain yourselves, instead of bickering like children?"
"We're not bickering!" he protested indignantly. "And why do you defend him all the time?"
They were speeding down the steps of the park, and given that Ron was much taller than she was, she struggled to keep up, nearly stumbling several times.
"I'm not defending him any more than you!" exclaimed Hermione. "I'm just saying..."
"You spend all your time with him! You're on his side!" he cut in.
Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron walked faster and faster towards Hagrid's hut.
"There are no sides, Ron! I'm friends with both of you, and I've been torn between the two of you ever since your stupid fight started. I just want you to put your grudge aside and let everything go back to the way it was! Harry's my best friend, I..."
Ron then turned sharply, interrupting her in a curt voice:
"Your best friend? What am I, a flowerpot?"
He was now standing in front of her, his face tinged with anger and fatigue. She folded her arms against her chest, as much because she was indignant as because she was very cold.
"Of course you're not. You're my best friend too, I care about you as much as I care about Harry, you know that very well."
"Do I? You have a funny way of putting that." he said snidely.
"Oh, stop it, Ron."
"It's true, though! It's bad enough I don't get to talk to Harry anymore, if on top of that I have to suffer your ignorance too, it would be... I mean, to me, you're... you're..."
She saw Ron's cheeks turn red and her heart began to speed up unnaturally as she listened to him. Suddenly she wasn't wound up, she was a bit shy. She quickly changed the subject so as not to force him to finish his sentence:
"All right. I understand, I'm sorry that you had the impression that I was spending more time with Harry than with you. I assure you, that's far from the case, Harry rarely accompanies me to the Library and I spend all my time there at the moment."
Ron's anger seemed to disappear as he listened and he let out a small, relieved sigh:
"Oh. I see. I thought you..."
"No." cut in Hermione reassuringly. "I see even more of Ginny than him, to tell you the truth."
It wasn't entirely true, but she couldn't tell him who she spent her days with. He nodded:
"Right. Sorry, I think I'm just tired and getting paranoid."
"Don't worry, it's forgotten." Hermione reassured him, placing an affectionate hand on his arm. "Shall we go and see Hagrid?"
He nodded and they set off again, much more gently this time. Hermione pulled her cloak tighter around her, feeling little snowflakes brush against her cheeks.
Ron knocked several times on the door and Hagrid opened it, Fang at his feet.
"Oh, Ron, Hermione!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "I'm glad to see you, come on in! Isn't Harry here?"
"No, he couldn't make it..." lied Hermione in a small voice as she entered the tiny house.
"He must be bloody busy, with that first Task coming up!"
Ron and Hermione took their places in Hagrid's armchairs, and thankfully, he said no more about Harry after that. He made tea, giving Hermione the cinnamon tea she liked so much, and soon the room was filled with the soothing smell.
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They did not leave Hagrid's house until lunchtime. It snowed all the way to the Castle, enough to keep the snow in a thin layer on the floor, which creaked gently under their feet. As they passed through the gates, Ron and Hermione were shivering and welcomed the warmth of the Great Hall.
Harry wasn't there. Hermione didn't know if he'd already eaten or if he'd skipped his lunch, but she didn't dare ask Ron for fear he'd get angry. Hagrid's visit had put him in a better mood, so she didn't want to dampen his spirits. They ate together, chatting happily about the week that had just gone by.
They talked about everything except the Tournament, as if it didn't exist. Ron didn't want to talk about the fourth champion and Hermione didn't want to think about what Harry was going to have to face in the first Task.
Behind Ron's shoulder, she could glance towards the Slytherin table, but Malfoy wasn't there. Nor, for that matter, was Parkinson, Nott or Zabini. Instead, she concentrated on her conversation with Ron and found herself laughing, something she hadn't done for too long.
When Hermione had finished her dessert (candied orange tart), Ron asked her:
"Are you going to the Library?"
"Yes. Do you want to come with me?"
Ron made the same face as if she'd asked him on a picnic with Aragog.
"No! Certainly not."
She stood up and pulled her scarf around her neck.
"All right, see you later!"
He waved and turned to Seamus as she left the Great Hall.
Without really wanting to admit it to herself, she was a little concerned not to see Malfoy around. She wondered if he was already in the Library, or if he had preferred to spend his Sunday doing something other than studying. In reality, it was possible: she understood that not everyone wanted to work all the time.
But she had to admit that she preferred it when he was around, even when he wasn't talking, his presence at her table had become habitual and familiar.
She reached the corridor of the library she loved so much, where she could already smell the books in the air. She nodded slightly to Madam Pince, then went and sat down at her usual table.
Viktor Krum was there, and as she passed him he gave her a discreet little smile, to which she responded, not without surprise. Her fan club of girls was still there, but much smaller than the last few times, as if half of them had grown bored. Still, Hermione sat down at the secluded table that she only occupied when she was alone.
She took out her things, but began by reading the long letter her parents had sent her, then replied using so much parchment that she wondered if the owl she was going to use would have too much trouble carrying her letter.
When she took her S.P.E.W. notebook, she heard Malfoy's footsteps approaching the table. She didn't look up when he arrived, but she was secretly relieved to see him.
He sat down, murmured a "Hello" and took out his books without another word.
She didn't know how he knew that she was already sitting there, alone, every time. It was as if he had the Marauder's Map, too.
Hermione plunged into the only book she knew about house elves. After several minutes Malfoy let out a mocking laugh:
"No, don't tell me you're seriously continuing with your spew?"
"It's S.P.E.W!" she said for the thousandth time since school started. "And of course I'm continuing, did you really think I was going to give up after a week?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes but still had that smirk on his lips. Before he could reply, however, she reminded him:
"You remember our deal, Malfoy? No insults for a month."
"Oh. I know." he said without losing his smirk. "I wasn't going to insult you, I was going to say it was a wonderful idea and that the house elves must be very happy with your work."
His tone was so ironic. Hermione feigned a poor laugh:
"Of course, Malfoy. So, will you sign up?"
"No." he replied instantly. "I wouldn't add my name to a membership list like that, I don't deserve that place." he said, even more mockingly.
He pointed to Hermione's little notebook, which contained only five or six names of members. She didn't let it get her down, however:
"Besides, you haven't got room for my badge any more, the one you've already got takes up too much space."
She pointed with her chin to the ugly badge he had on his jumper, "Potter stinks", in neon green. Malfoy was wearing a pale blue shirt that was a little too baggy, over which he had added a sleeveless jumper. His outfits looked nothing like Muggle outfits, and yet they were in stark contrast to what she was used to seeing on him.
He lowered his gaze to it, seeming for a moment to remember that it was clinging to his jumper.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he commented.
"Not really, and copied from my idea. Could you take it off, please?"
Contrary to what she might have thought, he obeyed and threw his badge into his bag at his feet. Then, he continued working and Hermione did the same.
Immersed in the working conditions of the house elves, time accelerated without her wanting it to. Soon, her little notebook was full of new ideas and her brain was boiling.
She read quickly, frantically turning the pages of the thick book. She had almost forgotten where she was when she was rudely brought back down to earth by Malfoy's voice, which had suddenly lost all trace of amusement:
"La lettre à Elise?!"
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Draco
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Pansy was particularly perky this Sunday morning, which was rare enough for everyone in the dormitory to notice. She was doing her hair in the bathroom, a hairstyle far too refined for a Sunday, humming some music between her lips.
"Has Pansy eaten a Pixie or something?" asked Theo as he dressed.
Pansy tried to throw her brush at his head through the opening in the bathroom door but failed.
"What's the matter with you? It's rare to see you so cheerful." said Blaise.
Pansy didn't reply, but Draco suspected why. He was sure it had something to do with what he had told her the day before, the lie he already bitterly regretted. When she came out of the bathroom, she had a big smile on her face, wearing her hair in a sophisticated bun.
All the way to the Great Hall, Draco stood slightly apart from the group. It was hard for him to see Pansy so happy, because he felt terribly guilty. She was probably already imagining things.
They sat down at the Slytherin table. Draco helped himself and ate without much appetite, while his friends chatted about the previous evening. Blaise kept saying that it had been one of the best parties he'd ever been to, and even Theo, who hated it, only agreed.
Granger wasn't seated yet, but Weaslette was there, wearing a tight red jumper. Theo said to him:
"And you, Draco, where were you yesterday? We didn't see you at the party."
"At the Library." he replied.
"Really?" continued Theo, frowning. "That's odd, I was there in the afternoon and I didn't see you."
"I was probably looking for a book on the shelves." Draco lied without looking at his friend.
Theo seemed convinced.
"What are you working on these days?" asked Blaise. "You're always studying, you must be ahead on all your homework!"
"Yeah, I've made quite a bit of progress. My dad's been putting pressure on me, I've got to be in the overall rankings at the end of the semester." continued Draco as he ate.
"You'll probably make it, you've been in the Library more than me lately!" grumbled Theo. "Besides, with Crabbe and Goyle's homework I have to do too, I feel like I'm going to lose my place..."
"Why do you keep doing their homework if it's taking up so much of your time?" asked Pansy.
"Because I need the money, and those two morons seem to have far too much."
Theo thought for a few minutes, then asked Draco:
"I'm going to the Library this afternoon, do you want to come?"
"No, I'm not going this afternoon. It's Sunday!" Draco exclaimed.
In fact, he was planning to go, but at the distant table he shared with Granger.
Just then, Granger entered the Great Hall. She was dressed in Muggle clothes; he was so used to seeing her in uniform that seeing her in trousers was extremely odd. They were blue trousers, made of a strange material he didn't know, as if it were canvas, and a knitted jumper.
She sat down at the Gryffindors' table, opposite Weaslette and with her back to him. He watched her curls cascade down her back. She quickly plunged into a conversation with the low-messing redhead.
A few owls then scurried into the Great Hall to drop off the mail. Granger didn't even seem to notice, too involved in her discussion. She received no letters, only the Daily Prophet, which fell by her side without her seeing it. Draco, on the other hand, received his mother's weekly letter from Ebony, whom he thanked by giving him the rest of his toast.
While the group finished their breakfasts and chatted, Draco watched Weasley enter the Hall. He looked terrible. He came to the right of Granger, who jumped violently when she saw him, dropping her bowl. She straightened up completely, and if she'd been facing him, Draco was sure he could have seen the blushes on her cheeks.
Potter came in and sat down too, and Weaslette left, her cheeks flushed crimson.
He didn't know if it was because Granger had told him about the argument between Weasley and Potter, but Draco found the atmosphere brittle, even though he was quite far away. The two boys were sitting on either side of Granger, both ignoring each other completely.
"Krum's here! Krum's here!" Blaise suddenly exclaimed, overexcited.
Indeed, the Bulgarian had just come in too and was looking for a place to sit and eat his breakfast. Draco was so focused on the scene in front of him that he hadn't even noticed Krum's entrance, even though dozens of girls had squealed in unison. Some of them wiggled to make room for them on their benches, and Blaise did the same. But Krum opted for a seat at the Slytherin table, as far away as possible. Blaise made no secret of his disappointment:
"Why doesn't he want to talk to the others? Is he afraid of the Slytherin students, or what?" he asked, dejected.
"Maybe because you're even creepier than the girls who faint when he walks by." Theo commented with a smile. "Why do you react like that as soon as you see him? He's just a Quidditch player!"
Blaise looked at him with a look of deep disgust:
"He's the best Quidditch player in the world, I've already told you."
"He's not even that good looking." added Pansy who was watching Krum eat with indifference.
Draco returned to his contemplation of Granger, who had just suddenly stood up. She followed Weasley reluctantly, clearly furious. Her hair was held back by her ear, Draco could see her cheeks flush from where he stood.
She was leaving with Weasley. This fact sent a small thorn through his chest, a slight pain that he took with difficulty. She probably didn't feel like following him, but she was doing it anyway. This friendship with Weasley was incomprehensible, and had been since first year. The Library Granger would never follow a boy like that if she didn't want to.
The thought that he might be her boyfriend crossed his mind and he tightened his grip on his spoon. Granger searched for him at that moment, darting her eyes towards the Slytherin table. Her angry expression changed when she saw him. He knew he was glaring at her, but he didn't look away, so that she would register his state. Then, he turned his head towards Blaise.
If he was honest with himself, he didn't really know why he was angry with her. He had imagined that she would go to the Library and he would join her, but she had decided otherwise, and that was what was bothering him. On top of that, she was with Weasley. It was as if she had no will of her own with him, as if she gave in to his demands. This bond between the two of them annoyed him.
"Do you have anything to do this morning, Draco?" asked Pansy.
"No." he grumbled.
He wasn't going to go when she was there with him. Pansy gloated silently, but he ignored her. It wasn't because of Pansy that he wasn't going, it was because she wasn't there.
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As they didn't know what to do after breakfast on this Sunday, Pansy, Blaise and Theo decided to go to the edge of the Black Lake. It was cold, but the Slytherin group didn't seem to mind, so Draco followed them without saying anything. He was still annoyed about Granger, but he couldn't think of a good reason for his anger, so he tried to ignore it by spending time with his friends.
The air was cool against his cheeks, but he wasn't particularly cold. However, the grass had frozen during the night, crunching under their every step. They arrived at their usual spot, under one of the trees that lined the lake, and took a seat underneath. Draco had no idea how Pansy didn't shiver in her tights and skirt.
The Black Lake had frozen in places, making the surface smooth and cracked. Theo rubbed his hands together after thirty seconds, his nose already flushed:
"It's freezing!"
He was the most covered of the four, but he had always been the coldest. Pansy offered him a warming spell, but Theo preferred to do it himself. Draco could feel the warmth emanating from his body, just a few inches away.
Theo took out a book and Blaise lay down under the shade of the tree, ready for a nap. Draco and Pansy remained side by side, both staring at the motionless Black Lake in front of them. They were used to silence, comforting themselves in it in the same way. They had spent years sitting like this, without speaking.
Pansy was pensive, her dark eyes fixed on the landscape in front of her. Draco wondered what she was thinking. Occasionally, a slight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, which she quickly wiped away.
Draco was lost. He thought back to his confession the day before, his lie that he had told. "I love you too." He had never said "I love you" in his life, to anyone. The two people he loved most in the world were his mum and Pansy, but yet saying it like that was wrong, bad, like acid on his tongue.
He felt bad for Pansy, who seemed so euphoric at the idea that he might feel the same way she did. But he couldn't take back what he'd said, at the risk of her ignoring him again. He couldn't do that.
He was stuck. And above all, angry with himself. Why couldn't he love Pansy? His life would be so much easier. He imagined his existence, free of problems, in love with the girl who was destined for him.
And then there was another problem, one he didn't allow himself to think about, one he brushed up against from time to time before mentally pulling himself together. Granger. Why was he so fascinated by her? Why did he analyse everything she did, count the time he spent with her, those precious minutes he replayed over and over in his head before falling asleep?
Why did he feel more sensations with her and not with Pansy, the one he was closest to?
Every time he dared to ask himself these questions, he pushed them to the back of his mind. He studiously ignored them, content to follow his desires. If he were reasonable, he would stop going to the Library, stop talking to Granger, stop thinking about her all the time.
But Draco Malfoy was not a reasonable boy.
"It's snowing?!" exclaimed Theo, alarmed. "Seriously? I'm not staying here if it's snowing."
He stood up. Draco noticed at that moment that the sun had moved, it was now almost in the centre of the sky. Pansy had smashed a few cigarettes between them, now covered in a thin film of snow that burned on contact.
"But you've got a heat charm around you!" exclaimed Pansy.
"It doesn't protect me from the snow, and I'm still cold! Why stay here when there are perfectly warm rooms just over there?" said Theo, pointing to the Castle.
"OK, let's go inside then." said Pansy as she stood up.
She removed the few snowflakes from her skirt, showing no sign that she was cold.
"Dray, are you coming?" asked Blaise, who had risen in turn.
"No, I'll stay here for a while. I like it here." he said in a whisper.
His friends nodded and left him alone. He could hear their voices fading away, Pansy's laughter echoing against the trees until it disappeared.
He stayed there for a long time. He didn't know if he really liked it here, but it was relaxing. He thought about his dilemma for a long time, because in such a secluded place, he allowed himself to think about it, as if he was afraid that by being close to someone, his thoughts could be read.
Pansy, Granger, his parents, their table in the Library, the bench where they'd talked, the "I love you too", Weasley...
Draco went over it again and again until he was exhausted. When he got up, he was soaking wet. He hadn't noticed how much it was snowing now. He couldn't even see Pansy's cigarette, buried under the new layer of snow.
He cast a spell to dry his clothes and made his way back up to the Castle. He'd missed lunchtime, but he wasn't hungry. He had decided not to go to the Library, to follow the wisest path. For his parents, for himself.
He almost turned to go to the dungeons when he saw her. She was coming out of the Great Hall and hadn't seen him. She walked confidently towards the Library, her bag far too heavy for a Sunday. He could see her little notebook from her association sticking out.
His resolution vanished before it could be carried out. He watched her walk away, waited a little, then followed her, trying as best he could to silence his disapproving spirit.
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.
.
He waited a few minutes in the Library, walking randomly among the shelves. The sun shone through the room's large windows, illuminating some of the slices of book Draco was dreamily reading. He made a few turns before heading for Granger's table. She was sitting in her usual place, pulling books out of her bag.
"Hello." he muttered.
He took out his things, but really, he was more interested in what she was doing than his own homework. He'd never worked as hard as he had since school started, he was ahead in every subject.
Granger was reading a huge book, so heavy she could hardly turn the pages. He couldn't see the title, but when he spotted the pictures on the pages of house elves, he knew immediately what it was.
"No, don't tell me you're seriously continuing your spew?" he scoffed.
"It's S.P.E.W!" she corrected impatiently. "And of course I'm continuing, did you really think I was going to give up after a week?"
He rolled his eyes, amused to hear her so involved in his project. She went on:
"You remember our deal, Malfoy? No insults for a month."
"Oh. I know." he said wryly. "I wasn't going to insult you, I was going to say it was a wonderful idea and that the house elves must be very happy with your work."
"Of course, Malfoy. So, will you sign up?"
"No. I wouldn't add my name to a membership list like that, I don't deserve that place." he said, pointing to his small open notebook.
From where he was sitting, the notebook was upside down, yet he had no trouble deciphering the first two names at the top of the page: Harry and Ron. He wondered if her two best friends supported Granger in her association, or if they were mocking her just as he was.
"Besides, you haven't got room for my badge any more, the one you've already got takes up too much space." she said curtly.
At first, he didn't understand what she was talking about, until she pointed to his chest. He had forgotten his "Potter stinks" badge, which had been hanging on his jumper all morning. He suddenly felt a little ashamed to be wearing it in front of her.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said.
"Not really, and copied from my idea. Could you take it off, please?"
He complied, surprised that she didn't get more upset than that. She must have thought it was a childish idea, and in a way, it was. He looked up at her again, but Granger had fallen back into her reading and Draco realised there was no point in bothering her any further.
He picked up his History of Magic textbook and began to read the next chapter. It was the first time he'd read a chapter of this subject in advance. In fact, it might even have been the first time he'd opened the textbook at all - the binding creaked slightly as he flipped through it, as it was so new.
The minutes ticked by. Even with all the will in the world, none of the chapters in this manual were interesting. Draco quickly lost concentration as he read about the goblin rebellion of 1612, preferring instead to watch the snow fall through the library window. The room was engulfed in silence.
The only sound Draco could hear was Granger tapping her fingertips against the wooden table without realising it. He had noticed that she often did this while reading, but had never understood why. He looked down at her fingers and realised that she always tapped them in the same order, like some kind of musical tune.
He concentrated on it without noticing, now attentive to the sound Granger's fingers were making. It was strangely familiar. It was as if he'd heard this tune many times before...
A - E - A - A - E - A - C - B - A...
Suddenly, he recognised the music. It brought back a very specific memory, that of his piano lesson, in the Manor Hall, with the two doors wide open and the sun shining into his cold house, lighting up Pansy's youthful face beside him.
"La lettre à Elise?!" he exclaimed, shocked.
Granger gasped slightly, he had spoken loudly without realising it. He heard a distant "shush", but ignored it and stared at Granger, dumbfounded.
"Excuse me?" she asked.
"You know La lettre à Elise?"
"What? What are you talking about, Malfoy?" she asked, still confused.
"You were playing, with your hand." he explained, showing her fingers still resting on the table. "You were playing with your fingers, you were playing La lettre à Elise!"
"Ah." she said, looking at her own hand. "Yes, I do that sometimes. I just never realise it."
"But... How can you know that music? Do you play the piano?" he asked, flabbergasted.
"Yes, I played it all my childhood." she replied calmly.
Draco's eyes widened and she gave a little laugh.
"How did you manage to play the piano?" he asked. "It's a wizard instrument."
"No." she contradicted him with a smile. "The piano is a Muggle instrument. It was the wizards who reworked it, to make it an easier instrument."
He was sure it was the other way round, but not keen to start a debate on the rivalry between Muggle and wizard, he continued:
"Did you have classes?"
"Yes, I went to the music academy after school. My parents suggested an extra-curricular activity, so they asked me to choose between gymnastics and piano. As you can see from our Broomstick Flying lessons, sport isn't really my thing. So, I opted for the piano."
Draco was stunned to hear this. He would never have thought that Granger could know the piano, the art that his parents prized so highly and that he had had to learn all his life.
"Oh. I didn't know Muggles..." he began.
"Yes, we can be interesting, if you did a bit of research on the subject." Granger cut in mischievously. "Have you been taking classes, too?"
"Yes. All my life."
"Really? Is that part of the required classes for young wizards?"
She now looked very interested, had even straightened up in her chair and pushed her book away.
"No, but my parents felt that it was for us." Draco explained.
"Us?"
"Me and Pansy." he said. "We had lessons with a teacher at home. I studied English, Latin, French, mathematics, calligraphy, geography, the history of magic, dancing, piano..."
"Dancing?" repeated Granger with a small smile on her lips.
"Not dancing in a tutu. The real dance, the waltz." said Draco, as if justifying himself.
"And what was your favourite subject?" asked Granger.
How could this girl ask so many questions? He almost pointed this out to her, before remembering that it was he who had mentioned the piano in the first place. So he tried to answer:
"The piano, in fact. It was the last lesson of the day. And... I liked it. I thought it made pretty music."
Granger nodded, confirming what he had just said.
"I really liked the piano, too." she said. "I learned all sorts of sheet music, but I stopped before my last year of elementary school."
"Why?" he asked, a little curious about Granger's pre-Hogwarts life.
"Because I had too much work."
"At school?" he scoffed.
She frowned:
"Muggle school has nothing to do with your home learning." she said. "I had a lot to study: English, grammar, algebra, geometry, arithmetic, science, geography, history, physics, chemistry..."
Draco had never imagined that Muggles could have so much to learn, he didn't know half of these subjects. He couldn't hide his surprise, which made Granger smile.
"What's a music academy?" he asked.
"It's a place to learn music. It's not linked to school, it's an additional form of education, like a hobby. I had piano and music theory lessons there."
He would never have thought that life before Hogwarts could be so busy for Muggle-borns. Suddenly, he felt like asking her lots of questions about how schools worked, but he didn't dare, not wanting to sound like Granger and her hundreds of questions.
"Is that where you learned La lettre à Elise?" he asked instead.
"Yes, that's right."
"But how could a Muggle teach you that? Beethoven was a wizard."
Granger frowned in a half-confused, half-amused grimace.
"No he wasn't. Beethoven was a Muggle."
"I beg your pardon?" snapped Draco, this time confident. "You dare to imply that Beethoven, the famous composer, student at Durmstrang, was a Muggle?"
"Beethoven was not a..."
Draco cut Granger's sentence short by suddenly rising from his chair. He walked quickly to the Library's 'Personalities of the Magical World' section, split into several parts, where he found the red book he was looking for. He took it back to the table and placed it in front of Granger, who read the title in a low voice:
"Famous Witch Personalities of the Northern European World?"
He opened the book, which he already knew from borrowing it in second year, and looked for the right page. Granger hiccupped in surprise when she saw Beethoven's face moving in his frame.
"Gosh! I had no idea..." she said, surprised.
She read the page avidly, and Draco felt proud that he had been able to teach Granger, who already seemed to know everything, something.
"I didn't know." she repeated in amazement. "He's one of the most famous composers in the Muggle world too, his music is known in both our worlds, I suppose."
They continued to talk about music and composers, and Draco was increasingly amazed at how much Granger knew about them. Pansy had never much liked piano lessons, preferring Astronomy, but he had been very interested in them. It was strange to share this secret passion with someone who had nothing to do with it. She had a different point of view.
He learned that her favourite composer was Bach, but that she also liked to listen to violin music, like Vivaldi, which Draco was not familiar with. At the end of their discussion, Draco confessed:
"I didn't think your Muggle background was so... rich."
If he was being completely honest, he might even have pointed out that she knew more about it than he did, but he didn't want to admit it. He'd been so convinced he was a piano prodigy, but seeing Granger so passionate called everything into question.
"Ah, Malfoy..." she began with a laugh. "I think with all the things you don't know about me, you could write at least two books like that."
She pointed to the two thick volumes of books in front of her, one on inferior magical creatures, and the other on famous personalities. Granger stretched and looked at the clock, then sighed:
"I'm going to go and have dinner."
He nodded and pretended to continue reading, even though he had stopped reading the paragraph about the goblin revolution a long time ago. Granger stood up, went to put away the book on house elves, but kept the one Draco had taken from the shelf in her arms.
"I'll borrow that one." she said with a smile. "Maybe I'll recognize some of the other musicians in there."
"Okay." he said simply.
"See you later, Draco."
And she left for the Library entrance. Draco watched her go with the red book clutched tightly to her, and a smile played on his lips that he couldn't control. It was so stupid. He was smiling just because she'd said his name. But it was so unusual, so comforting. She had a way of saying it that was different from others, or maybe he just wasn't used to hearing his name in her voice.
Why did he care more when Granger called him Draco than when Pansy said "I love you"?
He finally put his things away too, just before Madam Pince asked him to leave. Dinner was almost over, so Draco took the path to his bench outside instead.
It was still as cold as ever. He wished he knew what Granger was doing with her jam jars - he hadn't managed to rekindle the flames in the one she'd given him the night before. He sat and stared at the still-lit castle, his hands in his pockets to try to keep them warm.
He didn't want to think about his problems, but as always when he was alone, they came flooding back. He had been tormented all the time lately. His resolution not to go and see Granger had vanished, and he had even spent the afternoon with her. His values, his reason, all vanished when he saw her, replaced by his desire, which always won out.
He decided to tell someone. He needed to share this, and above all, to get an outside opinion, to know if what he was doing was wrong. Normally, he would have confided in Pansy without hesitation, but he obviously couldn't talk to her about this.
Theo was a good adviser, and Draco had trusted him for several years now. But Draco feared he would make things even more complicated than they already were by asking him too many questions.
A bit like Granger, in fact. Those two were far too similar.
Crabbe and Goyle were a good alternative to make sure he didn't get questioned, but Draco couldn't see himself showing his feelings to those two idiots.
That left Blaise. He was the second person who knew him best, he trusted him, he knew he'd never repeat his problems to anyone, or judge them, and he had good advice. They'd never really confided in each other like this, but Draco was going to have to take it on himself.
Draco stood up suddenly, determined, and went to the Slytherin dungeons. He whispered the password and when he opened the door, he wasn't really surprised to hear music and loud voices. The Slytherins were celebrating, drinking and dancing by the big fireplace. Some students were still doing a bit of work, including Theo, who was sitting at one of the study tables on the other side of the room. When he saw Draco, he waved to him.
"Hey." Draco said as he approached.
"Hey, if you're looking for Pansy, she's sitting on the sofa just over there with Daphne." he said, pointing to one of the green sofas with his back to them.
"No, it's fine. Is Blaise here?" asked Draco.
"In the dormitory."
"Why don't you study there? There'll be less noise, how can you concentrate in this mess?"
"Oh, I don't mind." Theo explained. "Sometimes I prefer to have lots of noise around me, it helps. I don't suppose you came to dinner? Here, they got some stuff from the kitchens earlier, if you're hungry." he told him, before picking up his quill again to continue his homework.
Draco thanked him, helped himself to some nibbles from the table and hurried to the dormitory before Pansy saw him. When he entered, Blaise emerged, already in his pyjamas, from the bathroom where steam from hot water was escaping through the opening.
"Hi Dray. The shower's free, if you want." said his best friend as he walked over to his bed.
"No thanks. Actually, I need... I'd like to talk to you, if you don't mind."
Blaise looked surprised but nodded in agreement. He sat down on his bed and Draco sat down on Theo's bed, just opposite Blaise.
"What's going on?" asked the dark-haired boy, slightly worried.
"I need to talk to you." repeated Draco, avoiding looking at Blaise, embarrassed. "I have to tell you, because otherwise I'll explode, but that's not right, no one can know, my parents... But I have to tell you, otherwise I'll go mad, and I need your advice, you see?"
"No." replied Blaise sincerely. "I haven't understood a thing."
Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He'd never done this before, displayed his feelings like this. Talking, in fact. It wasn't his thing at all, to reveal things he felt, things he didn't even allow himself to really think. He took several deep breaths and spilled it all out:
"Pansy told me she loved me last night."
"Okay..." continued Blaise, hesitating. "But... you already knew, didn't you?"
"Yes, she'd already told me... Well, no. She hadn't really told me, not explicitly, not like that! And yesterday she told me, out of the blue!"
"And what did you do?"
"I replied that I loved her too." said Draco, the weight of his lie suddenly weighing much heavier in his stomach.
There was a silence, where Blaise looked quietly at Draco with his caramel eyes. He announced softly:
"But you don't."
It wasn't a question. Draco took his head frankly in his hands:
"No." he groaned.
"Then stop getting her hopes up." said Blaise. "Tell her honestly that you don't love her, but that you want to remain her friend. Pansy's a grown-up, she'll understand."
"But I'm scared... If she stops talking to me, like she did this summer..."
"You can't go on like this anyway." Blaise said firmly. "You can't pretend to be in love with her, to sleep with her in secret, it will destroy her, and you as well."
Draco knew he was right, but it was hard to hear. Blaise continued, his eyebrows furrowed:
"There's something I don't understand. You say that no one can know, especially not your parents. Do you really think they'd be so angry to know that you don't want to end your life with Pansy?"
Draco sighed again. Maybe he should have talked to Crabbe and Goyle about it after all.
"It's not just that..." Draco admitted in a small voice. "I think I like... another girl."
"Oh." said Blaise with a barely concealed smile. "So that's your real problem."
Draco nodded and stared instead at his pale fingers resting on his legs rather than at his best friend's enigmatic gaze.
"Is that who you've been spending your days with lately?" asked Blaise.
Draco nodded again.
"And your parents wouldn't approve?" he asked.
"No, they wouldn't. I'm not even sure I approve of her myself. She's different, completely opposite to us, to my family. She's the opposite of Pansy. And I don't even know if I like her, I just feel this constant need to talk to her, to get to know her, to look at her."
"Are you in love with her?" cut in Blaise.
"No!" exclaimed Draco, raising his head sharply. "No, not at all. It's just that I see her a lot, that's all."
"Hm. Is she a Hufflepuff?" asked Blaise, more in jest than a real question.
Draco gave a small laugh.
"Worse than that." he said quietly.
"Listen." said Blaise in a confident tone. "You're at Hogwarts, in fourth year. It's not like you're getting married tomorrow. I suppose if you introduced her to your parents, they wouldn't be thrilled, but if you hang out with her at school without anyone knowing, there's no harm in that, is there? I say you should enjoy it. If you like her, and she likes you, don't let your family stop you. They don't even know about it. Don't beat yourself up about it."
Draco felt the effects of this life-saving phrase relax his shoulders immediately. He needed to hear that more than he thought he would.
"Yeah, you're right."
"On the other hand, you have to clear things up with Pansy. Tell her how you feel. I'm sure she'll understand."
Draco reached up and patted Blaise's leg gently:
"Thanks, Blaise. I needed that."
"Anytime." he said. "You know, sometimes you can't always be with the person you want to be with. Enjoy her while you can."
Draco returned to his bed, and when he turned round Blaise was gazing thoughtfully at the curtains of his bed. Draco wondered if this sentence was really addressed to him, or if he was talking about his own feelings.
He wanted to ask him, but thought that if Blaise wanted to confide in him, he would have done so already.
He thought long and hard about the discussion they had just had. Suddenly, his problem was not as unattainable as he had envisaged earlier in the day. All he had to do was be honest with Pansy, and keep talking to Granger. They weren't doing anything wrong, just chatting in the Library, or on a bench, were they?
Blaise made no further comment on their discussion, thankfully. Draco knew he'd probably realised who he was talking about. Blaise was clever, he was inevitably going to link Draco's escapades in the Library with Granger, who spent the most time there, not to mention the fact that she was Muggle-born, and in Gryffindor. Perhaps he'd already realised this months ago.
Theo eventually returned to the dormitory with his notebooks under his arm. The music was still loud as he opened and closed the door.
"That's it for today!" he said with a tired sigh. "I'm going to bed, I'm exhausted. Pansy's going to sleep with Daphne, Draco."
The latter nodded slightly to show that he had heard. Theo went to his desk to put his things away. Next to his bed, he had set up a small bookcase, where several dozen books were all stacked on top of each other. Most of them were Muggle books, which Theo no longer hid, because none of his flatmates had said anything to him since the day they'd found out what he was secretly reading.
"Hey, Theo...?" called Draco, eyeing the full shelves.
"Yeah?"
"Can I take a book?"
Theo raised his eyebrows, but agreed. Draco crouched down and read several covers, some of which didn't tell him anything at all. He finally settled on "Renaissance Music and Art."
He returned to his bed and closed the curtains after wishing Theo and Blaise a good night, lit the end of his wand and began to leaf through the book. There were hundreds of names of people he didn't know, and even sheets of music he'd never heard.
He stopped at the chapter on Vivaldi and looked at the small picture of him. It wasn't moving.
He wondered if, a little further up the Castle, Granger was reading the same thing he was.