Draco
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When Draco opened his eyes, the white walls around him were too bright. His headache intensified and he closed his eyes with a groan of pain. These walls were nothing like his dormitory, which was dark, deep green and relaxing. Here, it smelled of antiseptic.
Draco tried to roll over but realised that the bed he was in was far too small. He struggled to open his eyes. It was then that he realised he was actually in the hospital wing and that Theo was watching him with wide, curious eyes from the other side of the bed.
"He's awake!" he exclaimed.
Draco closed his eyes again.
"Madam Pomfrey!"
He had known Pansy well enough for many years to recognise her voice in a thousand. The intensity with which she pronounced the Sister's name told him that she was distressed. He could almost see her worried face in his mind: her thin black eyebrows framing her dark eyes, her mouth twisted in stress, her hands gripping the sheets of the bed.
A strident voice reached him from a little further away:
"Well! That must be the wake-up potion kicking in!"
The voice came closer to his ear:
"Mr Malfoy? Mr Malfoy, can you hear me?"
Draco tried to mumble something unpleasant, but all he could manage was a sleepy grumble. His head hurt, as if his brain had been bruised. His knee hurt too, but he could not remember why.
"Draco, if you hear anything, open your eyes."
This time it was Blaise's voice. It was deep and calm, even in an emergency. The fact that he called him 'Draco' and not 'Dray' was the reason Draco opened his eyes again.
He blinked a few times to get used to the aggressive light around him. Pansy, Theo and Blaise were standing around the bed. Madam Pomfrey stood to his left, a look of incomprehension on her face.
"Mr Malfoy?"
"It's me." he said, coughing halfheartedly.
"How are you feeling?" the nurse asked.
"What happened?" asked Draco, to Theo and Blaise.
"You collapsed on us and passed out." Blaise explained as he looked Draco straight in the eye, ignoring Pomfrey at his side. "You didn't even have time to explain, it happened right after..."
He seemed to hesitate for a second over the word to use before Theo finished in his place:
"Your study session."
Draco frowned. He remembered Snape's face, his difficult Occlumency session. He swallowed hard. He understood better where his excruciating headache in his right temple was coming from.
"Oh." he managed to say. "How long have I been asleep?"
"A few minutes." Pomfrey replied sternly. "Mr Malfoy, may I inform you that it is highly unusual for a student to pass out in the middle of the corridor, I would like an explanation..."
"Stop it, you can see he's in pain!" interrupted Pansy with a glare.
Madam Pomfrey seemed offended, but remained silent. She folded her hands in front of her and waited in silence for Draco to explain.
Draco used his overheated brain to come up with a good excuse.
"I was practising non-verbal spells." Draco explained in a weak voice. "I wanted to get a head start... But I went too fast and got tired."
Madam Pomfrey looked at him as if trying to determine if he was lying or not. For a moment he thought she was going to give him an hour's detention, but that wasn't possible, since he hadn't technically broken any school rules. It wasn't even curfew yet.
The nurse pursed her lips, looking as if she'd had the same thoughts as Draco. Then she waved her wand over him and a diagnostic chart appeared, with vital signs and coloured graphics. It reminded Draco of the Granger study schedule he'd glimpsed.
"You have a temperature of 100°F." Madam Pomfrey announced, as if it were his fault. "You're overworked, you've used up too much of your magic, you're dehydrated, you're low on iron, you haven't eaten for too long, your knee has a haematoma, and your..."
The nurse frowned as she read the diagnostic spell. She waved her wand a second time and a small diagram of a brain came into sharper focus. The nurse analysed it and then asked Draco:
"What spells have you tried, Mr Malfoy?"
"Simple ones." he lied. "Mostly repulsive ones..."
Madam Pomfrey looked at the diagram for a few more seconds, her eyebrows furrowed, before brushing it away.
"The classes are designed to allow you to practise accessible spells." she said in a warning tone. "If the most erudite professors in this Castle have decreed that fourth year students are not ready to perform spells that are overly difficult, you'd suspect it's for a good reason, wouldn't you?"
She turned to Theo, Blaise and Pansy at the same time, who nodded, although they were not concerned. Draco did the same.
"Right. If I ever catch you trying to overwork yourself again, I'll report you to your Head of House." she said firmly. "Is that clear?"
Draco nodded a second time, noting the irony of the threat.
"Miss Parkinson, Mr Nott and Mr Zabini, please return to your dormitories." the nurse continued. "I will keep Mr Malfoy under observation for the night and he will be present in class tomorrow."
Her three friends nodded disappointedly. Pansy gave him one last worried look as she left.
Once they were gone, Draco allowed himself to close his eyes again, but it was without counting the increasingly shrill voice of the bloody nurse:
"Here's a meal tray and some sleeping pills." she said, placing everything on his bedside table. "Don't forget to drink a large glass of water first, as well as the potion to bring down your fever."
Draco opened his eyes and ate as quickly as he could to avoid being reprimanded. When he finished his meal, Pomfrey seemed satisfied and nodded good night. Draco mentally reproached his friends for bringing him here instead of the Common Room, where he would have had a better wake-up call, then took all his potions and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
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His drugged sleep was shattered by an unpleasant sensation. It was as if he had been woken by a painful noise. But nothing betrayed the silence of the hospital wing, which was plunged into darkness. It must have been the middle of the night.
Draco struggled to sit up, his head still throbbing and a sour taste on his lips. He focused his eyes on the room and was startled to see someone sitting next to his bed.
It was Snape. He was sitting in a chair, watching Draco in silence. He was dressed, as usual, in all black, which contrasted with the white walls of the hospital wing.
The black spot Draco had seen came into focus again and he could read the - indecipherable - features of his Potions Master.
"Good evening, Draco. I didn't mean to disturb you." Snape said in his guttural voice.
Draco made only a low chuckle. He was still drowsy from the sleeping pills, making the scene before him look like something out of a dream. But the deep, dark gaze of his teacher reflected an enigmatic aura that could not be captured mentally.
"I came to make sure you were all right." Snape continued. "I understand that our study session has somewhat... weakened you."
Draco, whose mouth had miraculously stopped working, nodded slowly.
"I'm sorry for that." he said, which seemed like a great effort. "I didn't mean to tire you out. I wanted to test your limits, and I guess I went too far. This incident will not happen again."
Draco nodded again.
"I just wanted you to understand..." Snape took a deep breath and Draco saw that he was clenching his fist against his black cloak. "The danger you are in. The threat is closer than ever."
"What do you mean, Professor?" asked Draco, his voice shaking with sleep and fear.
Snape paused for a long moment. When he thought, he looked like a statue. Draco waited patiently for Snape's internal debate to end, and finally, the professor sighed.
He rolled up the sleeve of his black cloak, revealing his forearm. It was pale, but in the middle there was a drawing burned into the skin. A black drawing of a skull and crossbones surrounded by a snake. Draco couldn't make out much because of the darkness of the room, but he was pretty sure the scar was moving.
He was sure he'd seen it before, on his father's arm, who'd shown it to him several times to frighten him when he was little. But Lucius' was much paler and white, like Theo's scars. Snape's was inky black and swollen.
"Are you familiar with this symbol, Draco?" the professor asked, as if it were a question in the middle of a lesson.
"Yes... I think..." he said with a shudder.
"It's the Dark Mark." Snape explained.
Draco remembered where he had seen the symbol. "It's the Dark Mark!" Theo had shouted at the Quidditch World Cup, pointing to the same symbol in the sky. The symbol sent up by the Death Eaters that had everyone in a panic.
Draco had already heard an awful lot about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Too much, in fact. He'd always had trouble sorting out the information, between his parents' memories and the legends associated with his name. He had always seen the Dark Lord as an omen, a kind of omnipresent threat hovering over their heads that he had grown accustomed to ignoring.
When Draco saw the scar on Snape's skin, he realised that he was no longer a legend. That his father, Snape and his friends had been right. That he might be back, even if Draco had no idea what that meant.
"My father..." Draco stammered.
"Yes, your father has the same mark." Snape said. "It faded a bit over the years, but it woke up again at the beginning of the year. It burns. Often. Which means..."
"That the Dark Lord has returned." Draco finished.
Snape didn't even make a move to confirm or deny. He watched Draco with his piercing eyes, still sitting in his chair on the other side of the bed. Pulling his sleeve down over his forearm, Draco wondered how often it must have burned and if it had kept him awake last night. He thought back to his father's letter, the phrase "I can feel His return", and wondered if his father's burned as much as Snape's.
"Draco." Snape said, which startled him slightly. "I want you to know that no matter what happens, I'll always be on your side."
"You say that because you're friends with my parents." said Draco with a hint of reproach in his voice.
"Not necessarily." replied Snape. "I think you have a great talent for magic and I trust you. All I ask is that you believe me when I tell you that I'm doing this to protect you."
Suddenly, a fear that had always been in the pit of Draco's stomach awoke and crushed him violently.
"Professor, I have to stop this." Draco said hurriedly, suddenly out of breath. "I don't want anything to happen to her, I don't want what I feel for her to put her in danger! You must protect her, Professor, I beg you!"
Draco had moved towards him in his panic, his sheets tangled in his legs. He stared at his teacher, trying to show his plea and his sincerity with his eyes.
Snape had no expression on his face, except for a small twitch of his mouth.
"I've already told you, Draco..." he said in his lowest tone. "I can help you, with Occlumency... To protect her, you must seal yourself off, you must strengthen your mind. Protect it in your mind."
Draco nodded successively:
"I will, I will! I will train, I will meditate, I promise! Please, Professor, don't give up the lessons, this kind of incident won't happen again!"
"I'll see you in my study on Thursday." Snape announced as he rose from his chair, his robes flying around him. "We will continue with the lessons. In the meantime, meditate. And we'll try to fend off my intrusion more gently, so you don't tire yourself out."
Snape turned on his heel to leave the room. But Draco continued:
"Professor... Please... Protect her too. Please do the Occlumancy lessons with her, she'll get there in no time, she's brilliant, she needs help too..."
The professor looked at him with a mixture of pity and indifference. Draco felt himself falling asleep again, but he fought it a little longer:
"Please, Professor Snape, you have to protect her too, she's in more danger than me, she needs you... Even more than me, Professor, please..."
"I'm sorry, Draco." Snape said finally. "I cannot protect her. She's already chosen her beliefs and I can't stop her."
Draco wanted to argue, to insist, to beg, fear heating his heart, his head, but sleep overtook him the moment Snape removed the Silence Charm around them, and Draco reluctantly fell asleep.
The next morning, a steaming cup of tea and a slice of buttered toast awaited him on the bedside table of his hospital bed, with an invigorating potion next to his plate. Draco took it all in, ignoring the uncomfortable knot in his stomach.
The conversation with Snape was still vivid in his mind, now that he was off the drugs. His head no longer hurt and he no longer felt drained. The potion managed to perk him up even more, and Madam Pomfrey allowed him to return to the Common Room before classes, but not without a final warning about advanced magic.
On the way, Draco made a decision.
If the Dark Lord was indeed 'back', or at least close, he would have to face him. He would redouble his efforts in the Occlumancy, meditate three times as much as he had in the last few days. And once he had the necessary skills to protect Granger in his mind, he would teach her the Occlumancy as well. He was sure she would be able to close her mind even faster than he could.
If Snape wouldn't help her, he would do it himself.
There was no way she would be put in danger by him, or Potter.
He was convinced of that when he reached the door of the Common Room. But he'd spent so much time mentally writing down his promises that he'd forgotten one small detail.
"DRACO!"
Pansy threw herself at him to hug him, her voice piercing with concern. Her hair was a mess, completely dishevelled. Draco realised that she had probably slept on the sofa in the Common Room.
Draco hugged her and breathed in the comforting smell of cold tobacco.
"It's all right Pansy, I'm not dead..."
"You might have been if Theo and Blaise hadn't found you there!"
She waved her hand at the two boys standing just behind her. They didn't look too good either. They waved at Draco with tense smiles.
"I'm touched by your concern, really." Draco said. "But I'm fine, I was just exhausted!"
"I'm exhausted when I've done three assignments in one evening." Theo corrected in his nerdy voice. "You fainted because you'd used too much of your magic. Big difference."
"I just did my dramatic Draco!" he said as he sat down on the couch in the Common Room in front of the fireplace.
"Your dramatic Draco?" Blaise repeated with barely concealed amusement, sitting down in the armchair next to him. "You mean the one who jumped in front of a hippogriff to insult it? Or the one who was turned into a ferret because he wanted to fight Potter?"
"That's the one." Draco grinned.
"Or how about the one who dressed up as a Dementor to distract Potter during a Quidditch match?" offered Theo as he sat down on the floor next to the coffee table, a smile on his face.
"Yeah, well, you get the idea." grumbled Draco, who wasn't too fond of this list.
"None of this tells us how you got into this state." commented Pansy, who wasn't laughing at all. She sat down on the sofa next to Draco and crossed her arms over her chest. "What have you been doing?"
"Did Snape take you to a duel?" asked Theo, half seriously.
"Did he make you test a potion you'd made wrong?" Blaise asked.
Draco sighed. His friends had obviously been tossing the question back and forth. And he couldn't blame them, he would have had the same reaction if one of them had passed out on him as they left Snape's office. They must have been dying to know why.
Draco ran a hand through his hair.
"I... I can't explain." he admitted after a few seconds.
"What?" Theo said impatiently. "You spend the night in the hospital wing after a private lesson and you expect us to be satisfied with that answer?"
"Tell us, Draco! What are you hiding from us?" asked Pansy, on the edge of annoyance.
"I know it's hard to hear." Draco admitted. "I know you want to know. But I can't tell you, at least not yet. I promise you that you'll be the first to know as soon as I have the situation under control. But if I tell you, it could be dangerous for you.
"Dangerous?" moaned Pansy. "If it's dangerous for us, it's bound to be dangerous for you. What has Snape asked you to do?"
"Pansy, I..."
"Draco!" she interrupted in a loud voice. "I hardly slept all night, I was so worried! I've thought of every possible scenario, and now you tell me it's dangerous? Is it your father? Has he ordered you to do something?"
"No, Pans, it's not my father." Draco said in a whisper. "It's me, just me. I have to do something, but I promise it's worth it. It's to protect you. And if I tell you, I'll put you in danger. So trust me and wait a little while and I'll tell you when I'm sure you're safe."
Pansy and Theo looked at him hesitantly. Blaise, on the other hand, analysed the situation without a word, relaxed as always.
"You do trust me, don't you?" added Draco to the silence.
"Yes, but if you take us into your confidence, I promise we won't say anything." Pansy said.
"It's just that it seems strange to us, we'd like to know what you're talking about..." began Theo.
"Stop." said Blaise, cutting Theo off.
Pansy and Theo turned to him, even more confused.
"Stop it." Blaise repeated in a dry, firm tone. "We trust Draco, don't we? If he thinks we shouldn't know, it's for a good reason. Let's drop it."
Pansy was about to argue, but Blaise's determined gaze stopped her.
After a full minute of consideration, they both capitulated.
"All right, don't tell us yet." growled Theo, who hated being kept in the dark. "But you'd better tell us as soon as you can!"
"And if you faint again, you're obliged to tell us." Pansy said in a voice that didn't need to be discussed.
"Deal." said Draco.
The four of them sat around their sofa in the Common Room as it emptied. They did not speak, each deep in thought. Draco looked at the sculptures above the huge granite fireplace in front of him.
Finally he said:
"What have we got this morning?"
"Herbology, in ten minutes." Theo replied immediately, looking at his watch for fear of being late.
"Don't feel like going." Draco said. "Skipping?"
Blaise and Pansy nodded instantly.
They fell back into silence. Draco thought he could use this free hour before the next lesson to meditate a little. After a few minutes Blaise said to Theo:
"You don't have to skip, Theo, if you want to..."
No sooner had he said this than Theo found himself standing up, his Herbology books in hand, and heading for the exit:
"Thanks, Blaise! See you later! Sorry, Draco!"
And off he went, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, who probably didn't know the way to the greenhouses. Pansy laughed mockingly.
While Blaise and Pansy shared a cigarette, Draco closed his eyes and meditated. He emptied his rested mind. He managed to take the memories and place them in deeper layers of his brain, without dwelling on them any longer than necessary.
He repeated this exercise several times, controlling his breathing, until Blaise tapped him on the shoulder and snapped him out of his trance:
"Charms class is about to start."
Draco nodded. The hour had passed in a matter of minutes.
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Hermione
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Happy Easter Sunday!
Did the family dinner go well? Did Gran come? I hope the lamb was as good as the one you made the year before I left for Hogwarts. Did Dad manage to make his hot cross buns? I laugh to myself as I remember the year they burned in the oven and Dad sulked all day.
The students here don't really celebrate Easter. Ron says it's a Muggle tradition. But that doesn't stop them from stuffing themselves with chocolate, Ron being the first! By the way, I'm sending you some (sugar-free) chocolate eggs I bought in Hogsmeade yesterday. I think Dad will like them: they're supposed to melt in your mouth.
Not much news since last week's letter. I got the highest mark in Charms and fifteen points for Gryffindor in Herbology last Monday. In Transfiguration we learnt a spell to change the colour of an object, it was very difficult but really exciting! Neville's wand misfired and he changed the colour of McGonagall's green hat to an ugly, screaming yellow. Fortunately, she took it well and even smiled.
Harry is doing well, as the third Task of the Tournament isn't until the end of June. He's got his colour back. Ron is fine too, as usual. I'm having breakfast with Ginny, who's a bit overworked but still manages to practise Quidditch on her own.
The S.P.E.W. is progressing slowly, but it's still very theoretical at the moment. By the way, I know you can't wear the badge in the practice because it moves and your patients will ask questions, but I'm sending you one anyway, and one for Dad.
Actually there is some news... There's this boy.
I don't know how to describe my relationship with him, except that it's conflicted. Not like with Ron, because Ron is my friend, but this boy is not my friend, he's not even part of my House!
But I think I like him.
Harry and Ron don't know. I spend time with him in the Library, studying and doing homework together. He's very intelligent and cultured. He can be funny when he's in a good mood. But he can be ungrateful sometimes. Sometimes, he gets on my nerves so much that I think that's the last time I'll ever talk to him.
But I always come back the next day.
I don't know why.
I'm up to date with my work, my homework and my study schedule. But I'm a bit lost when it comes to boys.
I'm enclosing three more letters: one for Dad, one for Gran if she's staying with you over Easter, and one for Danny. Tell them how much I miss all three of them. And I miss you too, Mum. A bit too much.
Happy Easter again and see you next week,
All my love,
Hermione.
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"Ronald Weasley, if I have to tell you one more time that it's not spew but S.P.E.W., you'll never be able to copy any of my homework for the rest of your life." Hermione warned with a dark look in the red-haired man's direction.
"Sorry. S.P.E.W." Ron said with a barely concealed smile. "I mean, are you still working on it?"
"No. I'm studying Astronomy." Hermione said as she returned to her book on the table in the Gryffindor Common Room.
"What?! What on earth for?! It's the holidays, Hermione!" Ron complained with a sigh.
"Because I have a study schedule, and holidays don't stop me from studying, on the contrary, they give me time off so I can study even more." Hermione explained in her high-pitched voice.
"Sometimes I really feel like I'm spending my evenings with McGonagall." Ron muttered. "Your move, Harry."
"Rook to E5." Harry said, absorbed in their game of wizard's chess.
His Rook moved up the board and abruptly knocked over Ron's Pawn. Ron, completely unperturbed, said in turn:
"Knight to E5!"
The Knight arrived in the square and pierced Harry's tower with his spear. The Rook shattered with a loud crash and Ron swept the pieces away with his hand as Harry cursed.
It was all a lot of noise, which reminded Hermione why she wasn't studying in the Common Room, but in the Library.
She tried to get back to her studies, half tempted to do a Bubble-Head Charm on herself to stop hearing Harry and Ron's chess game next to her.
Hermione concentrated on the names of the constellations she was memorising.
"Come on Hermione, Ron's right!" Harry interrupted without looking at her, still absorbed in his chess game. "Stop studying for a bit, it's the holidays!"
"What for?" Hermione snapped impatiently. "You're playing chess, only two can play chess!"
"We can play something else if you like. How about a game of Exploding Snap?" offered Ron, sending his Bishop to D4 at the same time.
"No, thanks." said Hermione, who didn't like games that involved an explosion or noise in general.
She plunged back into her book and turned the page, only to find herself facing the study of the Draco constellation. Just reading its name made her blush, so she shut the Astronomy textbook.
"You know what would be nice?" Harry asked Ron with a sad sigh. "For us to play Quidditch."
"You said it. I miss flying." the redhead said with another sigh.
"I have to say, I don't miss it at all." said Hermione.
"Why?!" both boys asked at the same time, stunned.
"Waiting in the cold, in the stands?! Watching you get shot in the face, hit by bats, fall sixty feet?"
"I appreciate you worrying about us after pointing out the cold." Harry muttered with a grin.
"And we don't get hit by bats." Ron clarified. "The only time that's happened was when George mishandled his sledge in the back garden..."
"Still, it's a dangerous sport." she said.
"I still prefer this to the bloody Tournament." Harry objected, frowning from behind his glasses.
Hermione had to admit that she agreed with him.
"Besides, how do you know you don't like Quidditch?" asked Ron, still staring at the board in front of him, covered in chunks of chess pieces.
Hermione was outraged by this question.
"I want you to know that I've come to watch every Quidditch match the Gryffindor team has played!"
"Yes, because Harry is on the team!"
"Of course, why else would I put myself through that?" asked Hermione, annoyed.
"Thank you, Hermione." Harry said wryly.
"My point is," Ron rephrased, finally looking up at her. "It's that you've never actually played Quidditch."
"I hate flying." she said.
"No, you decided you hated flying during Flying lessons in first year, which made sense, because broomsticks are all horrible, and everyone gets scared."
"I'm afraid of heights, Ron." Hermione said with a hint of annoyance. "I hate flying in general."
"What? How else would you fly other than on a broom?" asked Ron, confused.
"On aeroplanes, Ron." Harry explained.
"Oh, are those those big flying things that carry people from one country to another? Knight to H3. My dad wanted to take one to Egypt last year, but my mum refused. Checkmate, Harry."
"What?! But I was about to take your Queen!" protested Harry, as his King dropped his sword in defeat.
"Sorry." Ron said with a proud smile, not at all sorry. "Hermione, what do you think? You could try flying a broom, I'm sure you'd like that."
"Why would I want to fly on a broomstick?" she asked. "I'm afraid of heights, I don't know how they work, and besides, we can't play Quidditch this year because of the Tournament!"
Hermione knew that Ginny was practising Quidditch with Madam Hooch's permission, but she didn't want to let them in on the secret.
"You can try it this summer, at the Burrow!" said Ron.
"Try what?" asked George suddenly, appearing out of nowhere and taking a seat in one of the chairs around the table they were sitting at, followed by Fred.
"Try to fly a broom." Ron told his brother before Hermione could intervene.
"Oh yeah, it would be so much fun to watch you fly, Mione!" exclaimed Fred.
"It wouldn't. I don't want to ride a broom."
"Oh, come on!" insisted Ron.
"I said no." Hermione repeated, crossing her arms.
"Perhaps we could challenge you instead?" offered George, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, as usual.
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.
"We'll challenge you, and if you lose, you'll have to ride a broom this summer, if you win, you won't." Fred explained.
"Good idea!" said Ron.
"What kind of "something"?" she asked suspiciously.
She'd learned not to trust the twins without getting the exact explanation first.
"I don't know, you decide." George said with a shrug.
"But she's bound to win!" objected Seamus, who had suddenly appeared to join the conversation. "Hermione's good at everything!"
"Oh, we could challenge each other to name the most constellations on the astral map?" she offered, pointing to her Astronomy book. "That way, we can play and work at the same time!"
"But that's rubbish." Ron said with a pout. "And I don't like Astronomy."
"Recite the most spells? Guess the rune symbol? Turn this teacup into a turtle?" Hermione listed.
"No, something fun!"
"A game of chess?" offered Fred, pointing to the board between Harry and Ron.
"Oh yes! Good idea!" exclaimed Ron as he put the board away to start a new game.
"But that's not fair, I'm rubbish at chess!" exclaimed Hermione.
"So what, you think I'm good at runes?" asked Ron with a laugh.
Hermione watched him set up the game, biting her lip. She had never beaten Ron, he was very good at chess. Even Harry had a hard time beating him, although they often played against each other.
Several students had come up to watch the game. It had to be said that a chess tournament was a good way to liven up the Common Room on a Sunday evening during the holidays. What's more, Fred and George took great pleasure in shouting into the Common Room: "Wild game about to start, come closer!"
Hermione reluctantly took Harry's place and he whispered a "good luck" in her ear.
"All right, I'll play chess." Hermione said to the cheers of the audience around them. "But on one condition."
"What?" asked Ron suspiciously.
"If I win, you have to wear the S.P.E.W. badge every day for a month." she said.
The students gathered around the table murmured a collective "ooooouuuuhh". Ron hesitated, then held out his hand:
"Deal."
They shook hands. Ron's palm was warm against hers, and Hermione tried not to think that she had shaken Draco Malfoy's hand in the same way, twice.
"Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for THE Gryffindor Chess Tournament." George called to the assembly. "Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, head to head for the coveted victory!"
"A Tournament watched by all Gryffindors, and one that will probably be remembered for a long time to come!" continued Fred, waving his hand wildly. "Commentated by George Weasley and myself, and presided over by the completely neutral and objective referee, Harry Potter..."
"...What?" said Harry.
"... whose purpose will be to penalise any foul or cheating by either candidate! Are our players ready?"
"Yes." Ron and Hermione replied.
They worked out a way to determine who took which colour: wand, stone, cloak, the witch's version of rock-paper-scissors. Hermione did the stone and Ron did the wand, so Hermione could decide what colour she wanted her pieces to be. She chose white.
The game began and the students around them fell silent. The Common Room was silent, all eyes glued to the movements of the board. From time to time, Fred or George would make a little comment, in the manner of a Quidditch match, except that it was slow and not very stimulating. When they tired of commenting on their moves, Fred and George started handing out chocolates and tricks instead.
Hermione concentrated hard. She had seen Ron and Harry play hundreds of times, she knew Ron's strategies. She knew how he used his Queen, or how he made barrages with his Pawns to distract from the real action he wanted to do.
When she used her Rook to take Ron's Queen from the other side of the board, there were excited murmurs from the audience. Hermione had never thought she would enjoy playing chess so much in her life. Ron swore through his teeth and used his Bishop to take one of Hermione's Pawn that was in his way.
The game went on for about twenty minutes. Hermione concentrated on the technique she was trying to achieve: the Back Rank Mate, a technique Ron himself had taught her in second year. She moved her second Rook, ignoring her pieces who were simultaneously advising her on another strategy.
"Rook to A8!" Hermione repeated louder to her Rook, which refused to cooperate.
The piece finally agreed to move. Ron moved his Bishop and declared:
"Checkmate."
"What? No, my King has his Knight to protect him."
The white King dropped his sword and crashed to the chessboard. Hermione opened her eyes wide as everyone shouted and congratulated Ron.
"No, no, my Knight was right there, he moved to another square without me asking! Referee!" she shouted in a panicked voice.
"Sorry, Mione." Harry said, shaking his head and pursing his lips. "You moved your Knight two turns before to stop Ron's Rook from taking your Queen. Ron won."
"Good game, Mione!" said Ron, overjoyed. He held out his hand, "I can't wait to see you on a broom this summer."
Hermione shook his hand, gritting her teeth. She hated losing. Ron was grinning from ear to ear.
"Everyone who wants an autographed picture of Miss Granger on a broomstick, please line up!" Fred announced to the Common Room.
.
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Draco
.
.
On the Monday of the holidays, Draco waited until after dinner to knock on Snape's office door.
"Come in." Snape's deep voice announced.
Draco entered and Snape didn't seem surprised to see him.
"Mr Malfoy?"
"I would like to continue the Occlumancy lessons, please." Draco said after closing the door.
"We're supposed to work on Occlumancy on Thursday evenings." Snape interjected.
"I know. But since we're on holiday, I'd like to use my free time to practise as much as possible."
Snape studied him silently, his piercing black eyes moving slowly across his face. Draco didn't know how to tell, but he had the feeling that his Potions Master was pleased by this request.
"I see." Snape replied simply. "Have you been meditating?"
"Yes, several times since..."
He didn't finish his sentence, not wanting to bring up the embarrassing moment when Snape had come to see him in the hospital wing in the middle of the night. Snape nodded briefly and stood in front of Draco:
"We'll train a bit every night, and after the holidays you'll come on Mondays and Thursdays, before dinner. Does that suit you?"
Draco nodded. Then he took a deep breath and barely heard Snape say the spell.
He felt the needle enter his mind, but the meditation and preparation of his mind helped him to feel less pain. He had no trouble finding it and pushing it away. Snape tried again several times, too gently at first, as if he feared Draco would pass out again.
After several attempts, which Draco fought off skilfully, Snape became more insistent. The needle penetrated deeper into the layers, harder, but Draco managed to concentrate hard enough to push it away without difficulty. At the end of the session, Draco was left standing, and Snape looked impressed - as much as his impassive face could show.
"Keep meditating and closing your mind regularly. Good work."
Draco left the office, tired but proud. He had successfully countered the intrusions and was beginning to understand the techniques of Occlumancy.
Lying in bed, Draco meditated for long minutes, his mind empty and his breathing calm. He could feel his quiet heartbeat pulsing against his neck. He could hear the ambient sounds of the dormitory: his mattress creaking slightly as he moved, the water against the window, the music of the Common Room muffled by the thick walls.
When he had finished his meditation, he allowed himself to think of Granger and fell peacefully asleep.
.
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Hermione
.
.
Hermione was surprised to hear footsteps approaching the secluded table. She had expected it to be a student looking for a book, but it was Draco. He hadn't been here since the Wednesday before the holidays.
"Oh, it's you." she said impulsively.
Draco gave her a strange look as he took a seat opposite her.
"Of course it's me. Do you receive many people at this table?"
"No, but it's been a while since you've been here." Hermione said, then winced inwardly as she heard her own disappointment break through her voice. "I thought you wanted to take a break from studying over the holidays."
"And risk a lecture from the Head Revision Planner? No, thank you." Draco scoffed.
He took out his things and got to work. Hermione did the same and for the first time since last Wednesday she managed to concentrate. It was as if Draco's presence beside her helped her work. As if he absorbed everything else and allowed her to regain the composure she needed.
She finished her History of Magic study sheet with the key dates she needed to know for the exams. She placed her quill against the inkwell, blew on the fresh ink of her sheet and looked at her work with satisfaction. Then, distracted, she looked up and let out a small cry of horror.
Draco was taking a huge chocolate egg out of his bag. So big, that when he put it on the table, Hermione couldn't even see his head.
"Malfoy!" she exclaimed in shock.
"Yes, Granger?" he said, still hidden by the chocolate egg.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Eating a chocolate egg, can't you tell?" he replied sarcastically.
He broke off a piece and the sound echoed around them. Hermione was horrified.
"You can't eat chocolate in a Library! Madam Pince will kill you!"
"Relax Granger, if you wanted some all you had to do was ask me..."
"I'm serious, Malfoy!" Hermione said in her high-pitched voice. "Put that away right now!"
He sighed loudly, but moved the giant egg anyway, so he could look at her with a blasé expression.
"It's not fair, you get to drink tea all the time!" he grumbled. "I'm hungry!"
"I have Madam Pince's permission to have tea!" Hermione said. "She'll be absolutely furious if she catches you eating chocolate in here!"
"I'm not putting chocolate on her precious books!" said Draco, rolling his eyes. "Besides, she hasn't been near this table since last September!"
He wasn't wrong. Madam Pince had never been near the table they secretly shared. The only time they could hear her was when she closed the window on the other side of the shelf. That didn't stop Hermione from curling her lips into a stern scowl.
"Wow, you really do look like Pince." Draco admitted. "All right, all right, I'll put it away."
Draco took out his wand and pointed it at the egg:
"Nolite conflandum."
Hermione wrinkled her nose.
"I don't know that spell." she said in surprise. "What is it?"
"A spell to keep it from melting." Draco explained.
Hermione, who wasn't used to learning a spell from anywhere but a book, made a mental note of the formula. She watched as Draco put the chocolate back in its box as if it were a very fragile relic.
"Easter was last Sunday." she informed him.
"I'm aware of that."
"Did you keep this chocolate for five days?"
"Of course not." he replied. "I get one every morning."
"Yes. Of course you do." she said with a smile.
She should have known that his mother would send him an Easter egg every day. Draco realised why she was laughing and replied immediately:
"I'll have you know that of all the ones I've received, this is the only one I've managed to get."
"How come?"
"Because a particularly persistent and discreet creature has been taking my chocolates every morning for the last five days and eating them." he said, falsely irritated.
"A mouse?" Hermione tried to guess.
"Theo."
"Theo?" she repeated, her eyebrows furrowed.
"Yes." Draco said with a grin. "Theo. He loves chocolate. Completely obsessed with it. He eats it whenever he reads a book, which is all the time. He gobbles up chocolate boxes and eggs. Blaise is actually almost afraid of him, and had threatened to take him to hospital this morning. I took advantage of Theo's protest to put the egg back in my bag."
Hermione couldn't help but smile fondly when she heard that. She had never heard Draco talk about his friends like that before and his smile proved that he cared deeply for Theodore. She knew he wouldn't have reacted like that if Crabbe and Goyle had taken his precious chocolate. He might have had a fit in the middle of the Great Hall.
"I don't blame him." she said at last. "I always drink tea when I read."
She pointed to the steaming cup of tea next to her. Draco raised his eyebrows:
"You know, somehow, I think I've noticed that." he said, full of irony.
She took a sip of tea to stop herself from answering.
"And you?" he asked when she put the cup down. "Did you get any chocolate for Easter?"
Hermione was surprised by the question. Draco wasn't the sort of boy to make conversation. She thought to herself that he was in a remarkably good mood, which was strange and pleasant to see.
"My parents aren't the type to send chocolate. They're dentists." she explained.
"Oh. Muggle teeth healers, right?" he asked.
"Yes." she replied, surprised that he'd remembered. "They're not big fans of sugar in general. Muggles get cavities from it."
"Maybe I should tell that to Theo, so he'll stop eating five pounds of chocolate a day." he grumbled.
"Mrs Weasley sent me some though." Hermione continued. "She does every year, but..."
Hermione winced and rather than explain to Draco, she chose to show him. She took out of her bag the tiny egg she had received from Ron's mother that morning, smaller than the palm of her hand. She placed it on the table and Draco stared at it strangely.
"What is this thing?" he asked, almost disgusted by such a small confection.
"An Easter egg."
"It's tiny." he said, putting great emphasis on the last word.
"Yes. Ron and Harry got a huge one."
Draco lifted his head to look into her eyes, his head tilted slightly to one side. His eyes were a deep, dark grey.
"Why is yours so small?" he asked.
Hermione looked down at the tiny egg, trying not to look too sad at the confession she was about to make:
"I think Mrs Weasley reads the Daily Prophet."
Understanding relaxed Draco's incredulous features.
"Oh. I see." he said flatly.
Hermione had expected him to make a joke about the Weasleys being too poor to afford chocolate, but he didn't. He must have realised she was a little hurt.
They watched the tiny egg in the middle of the table in silence for several seconds. Then Draco picked up the broken piece of his own chocolate egg and cut it in half:
"Here, have a piece."
Hermione's eyes widened again:
"No! We're in the Library!"
He smiled, his hand still outstretched towards her, the offered piece of chocolate in his palm:
"Oh, come on, Granger! Just a piece!"
"It's a huge piece, it's almost as big as my egg!"
"And if it stays in my hand any longer, it'll melt, and the chocolate will stain your History of Magic worksheets, and you won't be able to read the dates, and Madam Pince will come and kick you out of the Library..."
Hermione took the piece of chocolate, more to shut him up than anything else. Satisfied, he took his own broken piece and prepared to eat it. Hermione, still reluctant to do this in the middle of the Library, muttered:
"The Library rules state..."
"Merlin, Granger, eat it!" Draco cut in with a sigh. "Madam Pince will never know!"
"If she sees me eating here, I'll say you made me."
"I'll take all the blame." Draco said, putting his hands in the air. "I'll do hours and hours of detention. Agreed?"
Hermione nodded, then finally bit into the chocolate, careful not to get any crumbs on the table.
It was delicious. Hermione had rarely eaten chocolate this good in her life. It was melty, crunchy, and covered in praline. Hermione finished the piece far too quickly for her liking.
"Not bad, is it?" said Draco.
She reflexively licked her fingertips with a vague groan of approval. Draco watched her with a look of both surprise and amusement. With his usual aristocratic manners, he preferred to wipe his hands with a handkerchief.
"Would you like some more?" he offered.
"It really wouldn't be right..." she said, even though her stomach was screaming for another mouthful.
"Miss Granger, it's time to break the rules a little." he said, pulling the egg out of his pocket and cracking open a new piece.
They ate the egg. The whole egg.
And Mrs Weasley's, which paled in comparison to Draco's tasty one.
When the Library closed, Hermione had a belly full of chocolate, probably a mouth full of it too, and she hadn't finished a single page of History of Magic.
She and Draco took great pains to remove all evidence of their feast with Scourgify on the table, the books and their hands, so that Madam Pince wouldn't understand, although Draco insisted that the librarian would never question the seriousness of her beloved best pupil.
They both went outside, far enough apart that no one would know they were talking, but close enough to be able to talk. Hermione laughed at something Draco said and Madam Pince watched them leave her Library with a funny look on her face.
They walked through the deserted corridors of the Castle. It was almost curfew time. Hermione, feeling a little rebellious after breaking the rules, suggested to Draco in a cheeky tone:
"Shall we go to the bench?"
Draco looked at her as if she'd turned completely green.
"I beg your pardon? You want to go out after curfew?"
"I stay out past curfew all the time!" she said with a laugh.
"That's true, but usually it's because I'm the one offering." he said with a smile that showed his white teeth and was hard to control, Hermione's favourite. "But unfortunately, tonight, I can't."
Hermione tried to ignore the disappointment that fell sharply into the pit of her stomach as she heard this.
"Oh." she said, trying to sound casual and detached. "Do you have somewhere to be?"
"Yeah, I've... got plans." he replied evasively, heading off in the direction of the dungeons.
"I see." Hermione said, even though she couldn't see. "With anyone?"
"Er, yes, you could say that." he said, confusing Hermione even more.
"Oh?" she continued, stopping at the top of the stairs that led down to the cellar. "Who?"
"Enough with the questions Granger!" said Draco, though he was still smiling.
He descended a few steps.
"Good night!" he threw over his shoulder.
"Good night. Oh, and, Draco?"
He turned around.
"Are you coming back tomorrow?" she asked quietly.
"Well..." he replied, his eyes looking up at the ceiling in a sort of deep thought. "I didn't really work tonight. A particularly stubborn witch made me eat chocolate in the middle of the Library... So, yeah. I'll be back tomorrow."
Hermione smiled. Just before he descended the last few steps of the stairs, she called out to him a second time:
"Draco?"
"What, Granger?"
"Try to get the chocolate back from Theo's clutches in the morning."
"Aye, aye, Miss."
He laughed and turned into the dungeons, disappearing from Hermione's sight.
Hermione found it hard to wipe the smile from her face. She couldn't stop giggling softly as she remembered her evening. She loved Draco in a good mood, he made her laugh and she never saw the time go by. If only he could be like that every day...
She wondered who he might meet. Parkinson? Maybe they had a ritual, a kind of weekly rendezvous. But it didn't fit, since Draco was always away for Thursday dinner, while Parkinson ate with Zabini and Nott.
Maybe it was a party? Hermione didn't know what to make of that possibility. She'd heard there were lots of parties in the Slytherin Common Room, but she doubted there would be one on a weekday, even if it was a holiday. Besides, she couldn't really imagine Draco having a party.
Perhaps he had a date with a girl. The thought made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she couldn't explain why. Perhaps Draco was in a relationship? Maybe she was the one he saw every Thursday night? Maybe she was a pretty blonde from Beauxbatons, Ron always said they were the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen.
Hermione dismissed the idea. Both because it annoyed her and because, if it were true, she would have found out, thanks to Ginny, who knew all the gossip in the school.
Hermione mulled over her thoughts as she walked mechanically up the stairs to her Common Room. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't even notice that the staircase she was climbing had moved to connect with the corridor on the fourth floor. What was Draco doing on Thursday nights? Why had he been so vague when she'd asked?
I've got plans...
She thought of his eyes, grey, dark, captivating, the way he drew her gaze to him, as if her eyes were magnetised to his. She thought of his laugh, his smile, the dimples in his lower cheeks when he really smiled. The way he pronounced each letter with his almost noble accent, the way he rolled the 'R's' in "Granger".
She thought about that as she let her own feet lead her. She climbed the stairs, so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice Krum's imposing figure waiting for her at the top, and bumped into him.
"Oh, Viktor!" she said, suddenly coming down to earth.
"Good evening, Hermy-own." the Bulgarian said, his face serious. "I vas vondering if ve could talk, just the two of us?"