very long chapter today! enjoy :))
notes:
- I recommend that you reread chapters 28, 29 and 30 of the real novel because I'm skimming a lot of the canon in this chapter and I'm afraid it's a bit confusing if you don't remember the exact plot Harry is living through
- The title is a reference to the french tv show "Hélène et les garçons", which could be translated as "Hermione and her boys"
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Draco
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Draco was leaving Snape's office, absently massaging his temple, when he heard a scream to his left. Despite the tiredness, the pain and the darkness, he would have recognised the cry between a thousand and one.
Granger.
His senses immediately went on alert. He drew his wand and began to run along the dungeons towards her voice, panic setting in.
A hundred scenarios flashed through his mind. Granger had screamed, she was in pain, someone had hurt her. Fear crushed him, preventing him from breathing properly. His fingers gripped his wand so tightly he could almost break it in two. He ran into the darkness, not knowing what he would see when he found her.
She better be okay, she better be okay, she better be okay...
He reached the end of the corridor, where the light from the stairs illuminated the walls slightly. Draco then saw Granger at the top of the stairs, her hand on the back of her neck. She looked in pain. He looked down and found, against all odds, Crabbe and Goyle with their backs to him. Goyle's wand gave off a puff of smoke.
That was all he needed to understand what had just happened. As soon as he realised, the crushing, petrifying worry he felt for Granger turned to anger. He felt it rise in his throat like an eruption of burning lava.
Draco pointed his wand in front of him:
"Expelliarmus!"
The spell burst out before he had finished the incantation. His magic was as hot as his anger, almost overflowing. His emotions were so powerful that his fingertips burned, itching to do harm.
Draco felt the two wooden sticks land with full force in his open palm.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he shouted at Crabbe and Goyle, not even trying to hide the anger in his voice. "And what have you done to her?"
He was careful not to look at Granger. If he saw any blood or the slightest sign of pain on her face, he wouldn't hesitate to cast the first spell he could think of on the two Slytherins in front of him.
They turned to him and Goyle replied awkwardly:
"We just wanted to scare her."
Goyle obviously hadn't intended to hit her with a spell like that. It was so rare for him to hit his target that he must have been surprised to succeed. It reminded Draco of the time he had cast a spell on Longbottom.
How could he have been so stupid?
"Scare her?" he repeated harshly, still pointing the wand at Goyle, who now had a look of pure panic on his face. "Why?"
"It's what you always do, Draco!" Crabbe interjected sheepishly. "We thought you'd like us to do this..."
"Do what? What did you do to her?"
He turned his head towards her. He couldn't help himself. He wanted to see her, to make sure she wasn't hurt. She was pale, troubled, but there was a kind of fury dancing behind her pupils. She was furious too.
"What have they done to you?" he asked her, both enraged and frightened by the answer.
She didn't answer. Instead, she met her burning gaze with Draco's and removed her hand from her neck: it was covered in blood.
The moment he saw it, rage took control of his body. It was rage that made him tremble, that burned through his body like waves. It was rage that cast a spell he had not foreseen.
A powerful violet beam hit Goyle right in the chest.
"What were you thinking?!" shouted Draco, his vision suddenly blurred. "Attacking Granger from behind? You're so fucking stupid!"
"She's a Mudblood, she doesn't belong here!" protested Crabbe as he took a step towards Draco.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Granger flinch at the insult. A new wave of anger rippled across his skin.
"That's no reason to attack her!" Draco protested through clenched teeth.
"It's all she deserves!" Goyle added, though he still looked a little confused.
Draco tightened his grip on his wand and aimed between Goyle's eyes, a list of increasingly violent charms running through his mind. He vaguely heard Granger call his name.
Crabbe and Goyle were looking at him with round eyes, both unarmed. Draco chose a spell and the word rolled off his tongue:
"Lashla..."
He was cut off by a guttural voice behind him:
"What is going on here?" asked Snape, as he approached the scene.
Draco was not surprised to hear him. He must have heard the shouting from his office.
Snape walked calmly, his cloak dragging on the floor. He walked past Draco and placed himself between Crabbe and him. He took half a second to analyse the situation: Draco with his wand pointed at Crabbe and Goyle and Granger in front of them.
Then Snape addressed them directly:
"Miss Granger, may I ask what you're doing in the dungeons at such a time?"
Draco had always known of Snape's favouritism towards Slytherins, but he was still shocked by this request. Of all people, he had chosen to ask Granger, the one who had clearly done nothing.
She didn't seem surprised by the question and moved closer to Snape to give him something. She still held his neck with her right hand.
"I've come to collect a book, Professor. From Potions class." she said in a small voice.
Snape analysed Granger's paper for several seconds, probably a note of permission. Draco still hadn't changed his position, wand still pointed at Crabbe and Goyle, whose worried looks alternated between Draco, Granger and Snape.
"And why do you need this book a few minutes before curfew?" asked Snape in his sternest voice, still clutching the paper in his hands.
"I need it for my studies for tomorrow's lesson, Professor." Granger explained. "For the Parnesius Potion."
Despite his anger, Draco felt a pang of sadness at the thought of Granger studying Potions without him tonight. He would have loved to help her study tomorrow's potion.
"Hm." Snape said simply, obviously looking for an excuse to punish her. "And why are you holding your neck like that?"
"Because Goyle just cast a spell on me, Professor." she explained. "When I had my back to him, and after he called me a Mud..."
She didn't finish her sentence, clearly reluctant to use the word. Snape raised an eyebrow without taking his eyes off her. He seemed to doubt her words.
"Show me." he finally ordered.
"You can see she's been hurt!" snapped Draco, not taking his eyes away from the two Slytherins in front of him. "He's hurt her!"
"I'm entitled to judge that for myself, Mr Malfoy." Snape said calmly, oblivious to Draco's anger. "Miss Granger?"
Granger turned and tossed her bushy hair to the side. All four of them could plainly see a long, bloody gash at the base of her neck, running from her hairline to her shoulder blade. Draco grunted through his teeth and looked back at Goyle, assessing where on his body he would suffer most from the spell...
"I see." Snape interrupted, not at all shocked by the size of the wound. "Mr Malfoy, I would ask you to lower your wand."
Draco ignored him.
"Draco. Lower your wand." Snape repeated with a hiss full of fulmination.
Draco reluctantly obeyed. His eyes still pierced the two boys in front of him. Anger was still consuming him with the same fervour, and seeing Crabbe and Goyle's confused faces was even more unnerving.
Snape said nothing at first, probably just assessing the situation. It was difficult to incriminate Granger or let Crabbe and Goyle go unpunished. Finally, he decided:
"Mr Crabbe, Mr Goyle, you will have a two-hour detention, in my office. You can clean the cauldrons, you who melt them in every class."
Both boys looked disappointed and turned to Draco expectantly, hoping that he would use his status as Snape's favourite pupil to dissuade him from punishing them.
Draco did nothing of the sort.
"Mr Malfoy, escort Miss. Granger to the hospital wing. Make it quick." Snape ordered sternly.
Draco nodded and rushed to Granger's side, not bothering to hide the disgust on his face. They walked up the stairs in silence. All the tiredness Draco had felt when he left Snape's office had vanished.
When they reached the Hall, safe from prying ears, Granger stopped abruptly:
"What's got into you?!" she asked in an offended tone.
"Got into me?" repeated Draco angrily. His hand on his wand was still itching. "They hurt you!"
"That was no reason to get so upset!"
"Why else would I be so upset? Granger, they attacked you from behind! You're bloody bleeding! Come on, I'll take you..."
"No ! I don't want to go to the Hospital Wing." Granger said firmly. "I'm going back to the Common Room."
"No way. I'm taking you to the Hospital Wing." Draco snapped, already heading for the stairs.
But Granger glared at him so darkly that he had to stop.
"I said no." she repeated, as stubborn as ever. "Not the Hospital Wing."
"Granger, your hand is covered in blood!"
"I have noticed!" she yelped. "But I'm not going!"
He sighed. This girl was the most obstinate person he'd ever met.
"Why?" he asked, planting himself in front of her.
"I hate this place." she explained, her voice suddenly less sure. "I hate the silence and the atmosphere, it reminds me of..."
She didn't finish her sentence, but Draco had no trouble understanding what she meant. He remembered all too well her petrified figure, inert and pale, which sometimes still haunted him.
"I-"
"And besides, I'm afraid Madam Pomfrey will demand that I stay the night." she went on. "And I want to sleep in my dormitory."
"Granger, you..." Draco started before pulling himself together, afraid she would leave. He took a deep breath and ran the hand that wasn't holding his wand over his face.
Finally, he came up with a compromise: "Would you at least agree to go to the bench so I can try and fix you up a bit before you go back?"
Granger thought about the suggestion before nodding. So, instead of going to the Hospital Wing, Draco led her outside, through the hidden door he knew well, and they sat down on the bench.
"Show me." he said as she sat down next to him.
She turned her back to him and removed her hand from her neck. The whole top of her robe was stained with blood. She then pulled her hair up and tied it into an improvised bun with her wand. Draco was automatically transfixed by the sight, but he pulled himself together quickly and looked down to inspect the wound.
When he saw the large cut, a shiver ran down his spine. Somewhere in the back of his mind, in the middle of a dusty shelf, a memory of a sleeping boy full of scars surfaced.
Draco tried to push aside the emotions of anger and fear he was feeling and concentrated on the wound instead. He pointed his wand at Granger's neck and whispered:
"Conferrumino pellis."
The cut closed slightly. Fortunately, it wasn't deep. He then threw a Scourgify at her to clean the blood from her neck and hand, then ran his finger over the now re-closed wound. It wasn't necessary, but he couldn't help himself. Granger's skin was as warm as his own.
"That's the second time I've done that spell to you in the last few months." he hissed as he put the wand down.
"I can't remember the first time." Granger confessed quietly, sitting up straight on the bench.
Yet, he remembered perfectly. Krum's bite was still vivid in his mind.
"Are you still angry?" Granger asked.
The question made him let out a small sarcastic laugh.
"Of course I'm angry, those two bastards cast a spell on you out of nowhere, just because you were there! They hurt you! I swear I could have..."
"I wasn't talking about that." Granger interrupted and Draco stopped.
"Oh."
Draco suddenly remembered that they had argued. He had completely forgotten this detail, too upset by the events of the evening. He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair:
"No, I'm not angry anymore. Actually, I haven't been for a long time." he admitted without looking at her. "I mean, I was, after Krum spoke to me, but I've managed to talk myself out of it since then. I'm sorry I got carried away, it was stupid."
Granger didn't hide her surprise that he'd apologised so quickly. He'd been meaning to since Tuesday night, but hadn't dared for fear of reigniting their argument. He had simply cast sideways glances in her direction all evening.
"I'm sorry too." she said, and Draco suddenly lifted his head, surprised by this unexpected admission. She didn't look at him, preferring to play with a thread on the sleeve of her robe. "I shouldn't have told Viktor we were friends, it wasn't a good idea. He won't speak to you about it again."
"Did you ask him not to?" he asked.
"No, I haven't seen him since." Granger said, and Draco's heart gave a little jolt in his chest. "But I'll tell him, don't worry. It annoys me so much that he comes to you instead of asking me directly!"
She let out an irritated sigh. Draco, on the other hand, was suddenly overjoyed: Granger being angry with Krum was an alternative he hadn't thought of, but one he liked very much.
They didn't speak for a few minutes, their eyes riveted to the still-lit façade of the Castle. Behind it, the horizon revealed one of the most beautiful sunsets Draco had ever seen. The sky was an orangey pink, and the sun tinted the Castle in beautiful shades of gold. It was a magnificent sight. The rage he had felt towards Crabbe and Goyle slowly dissipated from his pores. The presence to his right was soothing him.
Draco turned to face her. Her hair was still in a knot and her eyes were wide open as she looked up at the sky. The light of the setting sun reflected off her face, illuminating it with gold.
She was glowing, literally.
So, perhaps it was because of the beauty of the moment, or the sudden change in his emotions, or simply because he always found himself opening up when she was around, that Draco suddenly said to her:
"Remember the other day, when you asked me if I was jealous of Krum?" he asked in a much softer voice.
Granger turned to him, dipping her chocolate eyes into his. They were lighter than usual from the sun, turning hazel.
"Yes?" she said.
"I think I am, a bit." he confessed. "I just... I don't like him very much."
He had a list ready in his head in case Granger asked why: he was too old, he was from Durmstrang, he was weird, he talked like he owned her. The real reason was far too deep inside him to be revealed.
For the first time in her life, Granger didn't ask any more questions. Her cheeks had turned a lovely shade of pink. She nodded shyly and returned her gaze to the sun. Draco did the same, suddenly feeling liberated to have told her.
"Why did Crabbe and Goyle do this to me?" she asked after a few minutes of silence.
"I have no idea." Draco said in a tone a little more heated than he would have liked, remembering those two idiots. "Probably because they're stupid and can't see beyond the end of their noses. They see a Gryffindor Muggle-born outside their Common Room and think they have the right to attack you from behind. And you know what pisses me off the most about all this?"
"No?" said Granger, turning her head towards him curiously.
"It's that I could have done the same thing." he admitted with difficulty. "Up until last year, I was convinced that I had to defend myself like they did, or my 'territory'... I could have hurt you in exactly the same way, for no reason at all. Just to... prove a point."
He lowered his head to look at the ground beneath his feet, too ashamed to meet Granger's gaze. To his surprise, she replied in the same even voice:
"Perhaps. But the difference is that you don't think like that anymore. You're no longer the evil Malfoy who gets angry over nothing. You've managed to see past all that. To get out of your prejudices."
Draco chuckled through clenched teeth. Granger and her eternal optimism...
She continued quietly:
"What the second-year Malfoy would have said, if he saw you sitting next to me on a bench?"
"He'd probably think I'd gone completely mad." Draco admitted.
"And what does today's Draco say?" asked Granger, her voice suddenly full of apprehension.
"That he's bloody lucky." he replied, turning to her.
A smile lit up Hermione's sun-kissed face. She looked so beautiful when she smiled that it took Draco's breath away.
They turned back to the sun and Draco thought about the question again. What would second year Draco say?
The sun sank lower and lower until it followed the thin line of the golden horizon. The last few rays were still illuminating Granger's face, and Draco couldn't help glancing in her direction every now and then.
"Draco?" she asked suddenly, her eyebrows slightly drawn in concentration.
"Hm?"
"You were with Snape, weren't you? Tonight."
"You're too curious, Granger." he said, an amused smile stretching his lips without meaning to.
"Maybe, but that doesn't answer my question." she said in that dotty voice she used when she was in class.
He sighed, for what seemed like the tenth time tonight.
"Yes." he said finally. "I was with Snape."
"Why?"
"I have private lessons with him."
"Private lessons?" she repeated, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oh. In what?"
"Alchemy."
"That's not until sixth year." Granger countered, as if trying to find out if he was lying.
"I know. He's training me, so I'll be ready." Draco lied. "I told him it's what I want to do when I grow up, so he's giving me advice."
"I see." she said, though she wasn't completely fooled.
"What, you're surprised that I'm so good at Potions that I'm taking extra classes?" he asked, falsely outraged.
"No, not at all." she admitted. "But I must confess that I had all sorts of theories, and none of them were about Alchemy."
"What theories?" asked Draco, full of curiosity.
The thought that Granger might be wondering about him and theorising about his absence gave him immense pleasure. It was hard to hide his smile when he heard her say that.
"Hum... That you had parties..." Granger listed, a little rosier. "That you signed up for an extra-curricular activity..."
Draco chuckled at this:
"Yes, I didn't come to the Library because I wanted to practise my secret passion for chess." he joked.
"... That you were having study sessions with someone else..." she continued.
"No, I'm only loyal to you, Granger."
"... Or that you were seeing a girl." she said finally, redder than ever.
"A girl?"
"Yes, that you were dating a girl, or whatever." she said, absentmindedly tugging at the sleeve of her robes again.
"Who?" he asked, amused.
"I don't know!" she exclaimed, taking care not to look at him, and blushing more than ever. "A girl from Beauxbatons, or whoever..."
"Well, I'm not." he said, and against all odds, Granger looked... reassured?
"Anyway, I'm glad Snape is tutoring you." she said, trying to change the subject. "Even though I don't like him at all. Did you notice he didn't take any points off Slytherin tonight?"
"I guess he went over his punishment limit." Draco replied, also appalled by Snape's behaviour. "And only two hours of detention? Casting a spell behind someone's back in a corridor deserves a lot more than that."
Granger nodded in agreement, clearly pleased that Draco shared her opinion.
The sun finally set and the Hogwarts grounds became much darker. Just as the sky stopped casting its beautiful golden hues, clouds rolled in and a light rain began to fall. Draco and Granger were forced to return to the Castle.
Back in the Hall, Granger automatically headed for the stairs leading up to her Common Room. But just before she went up, Draco asked her:
"Can I have a look at your cut, to make sure I've cleaned it properly?"
She agreed. In reality, it was an excuse to stretch the precious few seconds he had with her. He wanted to hear her ask him questions all night.
Granger stood in front of him and he saw that the wound had closed up nicely.
"Don't forget to apply Essence of Dittany quickly." he advised, just before she pulled her hair back.
"I will. Good night Draco!"
"Good night, Granger." he said and she walked back to the stairs. "See you tomorrow?"
She turned to him one last time, a smile on her lips. She replied quietly:
"See you tomorrow."
That night, before he went to sleep, he meditated to capture this moment with Granger and lock it away in one of the most beautiful books in his library.
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Hermione
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When Hermione returned to the Common Room, still holding her Potions book, she was surprised to find that Harry wasn't there. She went over to Ron, who was talking to Fred, George and Ginny in a corner of the room. As she sat down on one of the chairs next to them, the four redheads smiled at her:
"Ah, there you are!" Ron said. "Were you in the Library?"
"Yes, but I had the misfortune to bump into Crabbe and Goyle on my way back..." said Hermione.
Immediately, the four sincere smiles of the Weasleys turned into strained grimaces.
"Oh no. What did they do?" asked Ron.
"I was in the dungeons getting a Potions book from the classroom." she said, holding up the volume of "Mugwort and Asphodel" for them to see. "I was about to go back when I ran into Crabbe and Goyle. They asked me what I was doing there, on the pretext that it was 'their territory' or whatever..."
Hearing this, Fred and George rolled their eyes at the same time. Ginny and Ron frowned considerably.
"They said this place wasn't for "Mudb..." like me..." she continued, refusing to say the word out loud.
Fred exclaimed immediately:
"What! They said that?!"
"Yes... And then I turned around, and they cast a spell on me from behind."
At this, the four Weasleys suddenly stood up in disgust.
"What?! Hermione, you have to report this, it's very serious!" said Ginny in a loud voice.
"I already have." Hermione continued, and they sat down again, not quite reassured. "Snape came."
Ron grimaced.
"I don't suppose he was much help." he guessed.
"He asked me what I was doing there, and since I had a note of permission from Madam Pince, he couldn't think of any reason to punish me. So he gave Crabbe and Goyle two hours detention."
"Only two hours?" asked George, dumbfounded.
"Yeah." sighed Hermione. "Not even any points off."
"Snape is really shameless. That's clearly favouritism. You should complain to McGonagall!" Ginny objected, clearly furious.
"Was Malfoy with them?" asked George.
Hermione, who had been careful not to mention Draco's presence, hesitated to tell them the truth. Under Ginny's suspicious gaze, she was forced to confess:
"He arrived shortly afterwards, and Snape asked him to accompany me to the Hospital Wing."
"As if you hadn't suffered enough!" said Ron with a gleeful laugh.
"Oh no, he wasn't... as bad as usual." Hermione disagreed, feeling compelled to defend him at least a little. "He actually seemed surprised by Crabbe and Goyle's behaviour."
"When he could have done the exact same thing to you without batting an eyelid! No, really, Mione, you were ambushed. Not one good person to help you!" George insisted.
Hermione shrugged sadly. She didn't want to insist on Draco's kindness for fear that one of the boys might suspect something. But it was very difficult to let that comment go when she was the only one who knew about the Slytherin's evolution.
"Did they hurt you?" asked Ron anxiously.
"Hardly at all. Just a scratch." she said, trying to reassure him.
Ron nodded. He didn't ask her to show him the wound and she was grateful. Besides, Draco's spell had worked: just like the wound on her arm from the Second Task, she couldn't feel it at all.
They talked some more about Crabbe and Goyle until Fred and George ran out of insults to hurl at them. Then the twins and Ginny hatched a plan for revenge. They decided to put a vomit-inducing pill in their morning pumpkin juice, even though the pill was still a prototype and they didn't know exactly what it would do. For once, Hermione didn't scold them.
"By the way, has Harry gone to bed yet?" asked Hermione after Fred, George and Ginny had left.
"No, he hasn't come back yet." Ron whispered, his freckled cheeks wrinkling a little with worry.
"Oh? Still?" asked Hermione in surprise.
Harry had gone to find Ludo Bagman and the other champions to find out the contents of the upcoming Third Task. But he should have been back long ago. He had left before Hermione went into the Library.
Just then, the painting of the Fat Lady swung round and Harry entered. His hair was as dishevelled as ever and his trousers were dirty at the knees, as if he'd fallen. But he didn't look shaken. He approached them swiftly, eager to tell them what had happened to him as quickly as possible.
"I have so much to tell you! You'll never guess what just happened to me!" said Harry as he hurriedly sat down in the chair available.
"You fell?" guessed Ron, noticing the state of his trousers. "Did they make you do the Task early or something?"
"No, no..." said Harry, absentmindedly wiping his knees. "The Task is a maze!" he announced.
Hermione and Ron had two very different reactions: Hermione immediately sank into her thoughts, trying to come up with a strategy to help Harry find his way. Ron, on the other hand, exclaimed : "Brilliant!"
"Bagman showed us." Harry explained. "They're growing hedges on the Quidditch pitch. Apparently there will be obstacles, and if I can get past them fast enough and find the centre of the maze, I could win!"
"What kind of obstacles?" asked Hermione, who was already making a mental list of books to borrow from the Library.
"I'll tell you later -the most important thing isn't the Task, it's what happened afterwards." Harry said with enough excitement that Ron and Hermione leaned towards him, curious.
"What? What happened?"
"Krum asked if he could speak to me privately..." began Harry, already deep into his story.
"What? Why?" Ron interrupted.
Harry didn't answer right away, but turned his eyes for a second to Hermione, who immediately understood the reason for this conversation. She suddenly felt an immense sense of embarrassment, accompanied by the usual blushing of her cheeks and the urge to scream at Viktor.
Fortunately, Harry lied as best he could:
"He just wanted to talk to me about the Task."
"Did he?" said Ron.
"Yes, but it's not important." Harry brushed it off quickly, to Hermione's relief. "So, we were at the edge of the forest, talking, and you'll never guess who came out of the woods."
"Hagrid?" offered Ron, the least surprising answer possible.
"Karkaroff?" offfered Hermione, the most logical answer possible.
"No. Crouch." Harry revealed, his eyes shining.
"WHAT?" gasped Ron and Hermione.
"He was completely lost and... haggard." Harry explained, chewing on his words as he spoke so quickly. "He didn't seem to know where he was, and he was mumbling incomprehensible things, it sounded like he was talking to Percy, like he thought he was at the Ministry..."
Hermione was soon absorbed in Harry's story. As he spoke, many theories about Crouch's sudden appearance flashed through her mind. When he told them what Crouch had said about the Dark Lord's growing power, Ron and Hermione shuddered in horror. And when Harry recounted that he had run into the Castle to find Dumbledore and that Snape had stopped him, Hermione suddenly felt very hot.
What if Harry had arrived just as Crabbe and Goyle had attacked her? Or worse, what if he'd walked in on Hermione and Draco talking side by side on their bench? She had never considered the possibility of them being seen outside, they always walked at night, out of sight. But Harry hadn't been far. He could have seen them at any time...
Hermione tried to push these worries to the back of her mind. He hadn't seen her, that was the most important thing. But she needed to tell Draco quickly.
She listened to Harry's story carefully. He told them that Krum had been Stunned when he had finally arrived with Dumbledore and that when he had woken up, Krum had told them that he had been attacked by Crouch himself. Then Hagrid had appeared and gone to fetch Karkaroff, who had become furious when he saw Krum in a daze. Karkaroff still thought it was a corruption of the Tournament.
Hermione was not surprised when Harry told them how Hagrid had grabbed the Durmstrang Headmaster by the collar and pinned him against a tree trunk when Karkaroff had spat at Dumbledore's feet. Hagrid had always placed unconditional faith in the Headmaster, so it was hardly surprising that he was offended by this despicable gesture.
Then Harry ended his story with a hint that Dumbledore had asked him not to send an owl until tomorrow. It was as if he had guessed that Harry and Sirius had been exchanging letters since the beginning of the year, telling each other about everything that was happening at Hogwarts.
The rest of the evening and early night was taken up with the many theories that Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged. They talked about all the possibilities. Hermione was most concerned about Crouch's presence. What could he be doing in the Forbidden Forest? And where had he disappeared to while Harry was looking for Dumbledore?
She asked her best friend to repeat Crouch's entire speech to her, in great detail. Harry repeated the half-intelligible sentences over and over, so that they were soon imprinted on Hermione's brain.
After her third cup of tea, and tired of hypothesising, Hermione suggested that they write to Sirius first thing in the morning and then go to Moody for more answers. The boys agreed and shuffled off to bed.
Hermione went up to her dormitory, where the lights had long since gone out. Crookshanks was waiting for her in the middle of her bed, looking reproachful, probably because of the late hour. Hermione lay down beside him and the cat rolled against her, half crushing her arm. In a whisper, she told him what Harry had just told her, both to keep him informed and to remember the whole scene aloud.
She didn't fall asleep until very late. She was awakened by the dawn peeking through the curtains of her four-poster bed. Her Potions book was waiting for her on the bedside table, but she didn't have time to leaf through it as she would have liked. Instead, she went down to the Common Room, her eyes red and puffy, and found Harry and Ron, who were as tired as she was. They went to the Owlery to send the letter to Sirius, continuing their theories between yawns.
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Over the next few days, Hermione and Harry went into the same frenzy as they had for the previous two Tasks. Now that they knew the content of the Third one, they practised relentlessly: magical creatures, defensive spells, offensive spells and orientation.
For the defence spells and the creatures Harry was likely to encounter in the maze, Hermione, Harry and Ron studied in the Library. Hermione made a list for him to study, and Ron looked up other useful spells in books.
For the attack spells, they used their free time to practise in empty classrooms. Since Harry didn't have to study for the year-end exams, he practised countering and attacking instead. And of course, Hermione and Ron were the guinea pigs most of the time.
Ron had never complained about the extra work involved in the Tournament. He would do anything to help Harry. On the other hand, he didn't hold back from complaining whenever Harry trained on him.
"That's the fifth time I've been petrified this afternoon." he grumbled, massaging his back. "Now it's Hermione's turn."
Hermione groaned in spite of herself. She wasn't a big fan of practical training either : she much preferred looking up the best techniques in her books.
"I can't, I'm doing a study sheet on the Dismissal Charm for Harry..." she began from the desk where she was writing.
"Can't you stop writing for two minutes?" complained Ron as he sat down next to her. "My back hurts from falling backwards! Besides, Harry's never going to read this."
Hermione glared at him. Harry intervened immediately:
"Of course I'll read it. And don't worry, we can stop, I know I'm asking a lot..."
"Nonsense!" Hermione said immediately, getting to her feet quickly. "I'll do it."
As she stood in front of her best friend, Harry gave her an apologetic little smile.
"I'll buy you a nice feather, any one you like." he promised.
"Thank you Harry."
"Hey! What about me?!" cried Ron indignantly.
"I'll buy you anything you want at Honeydukes the next time we go to Hogsmeade. All right?" said Harry with a smile, and Ron seemed pleased with the answer.
Although they practised whenever they could, the trio took this Task much more calmly than the previous two. They found that compared to the dragons and the Lake, the maze was much easier. Harry was much more relaxed and didn't seem to be suffering from insomnia, unlike earlier in the year.
Practising with Harry also meant less time in the Library. And this news bothered Hermione for two reasons: the first was that she was behind with her exam revision. Even though Harry and Ron knew that she needed her study time, she always felt that she was late, and she hated that.
The second was that she was seeing a lot less of Draco.
As on previous occasions, Draco made no comment. He must have understood that Hermione was busy with Harry's training. But she regretted this absence even more than she had in November and February. She had always thought of those times in the Library as secret study sessions. Now, she wondered if she didn't see them differently.
So she deliberately scheduled Harry's training sessions for Monday and Thursday evenings, knowing that Draco wouldn't be coming in the Library anyway, and immediately felt bad about it. She put her desire to see Draco ahead of her best friend's needs. It was selfish.
So, she agreed to be the guinea pig for all the attack spells Harry wanted to try the next day.
On the last day of May, a Thursday, Harry, Ron and Hermione were practising during their lunch break when the bell rang, signalling the start of classes. Still sore from falling down so many times, she said goodbye to the boys and made her way to her Arithmancy class. She arrived just in time. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but she had the distinct impression that Draco gave her a curious look as she took her seat.
Hermione wrote down everything Professor Vector said to make sure she didn't miss any information for the exams. When she handed in the last marked papers of the year, Hermione received a promising Outstanding. Theodore Nott received an Exceeds Expectations and showed it to Draco happily. The Gryffindor smiled despite himself.
After class, she had to meet Harry and Ron before Defence Against the Dark Arts. She was all too aware of Draco walking right behind her, accompanied by Theodore Nott. She could almost feel his eyes burning into her back. She was embarrassed all the way up to the third floor, constantly wondering if her hair covered the cut Crabbe and Goyle had made on her neck. Perhaps he could see that she had not yet applied the Essence of Dittany, too preoccupied with Harry to remember.
By the time she reached the third floor, however, all embarrassment was gone when she saw that only Ron was waiting for her outside the classroom. His mouth was set in a worried expression that stressed Hermione as soon as she saw him.
"Where's Harry?" she asked when she had barely reached him.
Ron's face confirmed her fears. Something had happened to him, it was rare for him to be so sombre and worried.
"In the Hospital Wing." he said, his voice hoarse. "During Divination... I thought he was asleep... It was so hot in that bloody class, everyone had dozed off, me first."
Hermione nodded quickly, now hanging on every word Ron said.
"Anyway... At one point, about halfway through the class, Harry started to scream. A long, horrible scream, a bit like when the Dementor had entered the carriage, remember?"
Hermione nodded. How could she forget? It was one of the worst screams she'd ever heard in her life, along with the one Ron had let out when he had seen Sirius Black burst into his room, back when they thought he was a serial killer.
"He fell to the floor." Ron went on to explain darkly. "He kept screaming "No! Stop!"... And both his hands were pressed to his forehead, over his scar. I was standing next to him and had to shake him and shout for a good five minutes before he came out of his trance. Trelawney was convinced he was having a vision or something, so he had to leave before he could explain anything to me.
Hermione looked at Ron's horrified face and understood now why he was so worried.
She spent Defence Against the Dark Arts thinking about what he had told her. Her fear for her best friend and her desire to understand were so overwhelming that she didn't listen to a word of the lesson. Training with Harry counted as homework anyway, and she didn't need any more theories, she already knew the whole year's programme.
They ate their dinner in silence, still without a trace of Harry. On their way to the Common Room, Ron and Hermione stopped by the Hospital Wing to check on him. To their surprise, Madam Pomfrey told them that Harry was not in there, and had not been all day.
Ron and Hermione went to the Common Room, more confused than before. If Harry hadn't gone to the Hospital Wing after Divination, where could he be?
They had to wait a good hour before Harry finally returned. He didn't look hurt, but his scar looked redder, or perhaps Hermione's imagination was playing tricks on her again.
"Harry!" she murmured in relief when she saw him come. "How are you feeling? We didn't see you in the Hospital Wing..."
"I didn't go to the Hospital Wing." he said in a whisper. "I went to see Dumbledore."
With the Room still full of students, Harry told them in a low voice what had happened to him. This time, he wasn't as excited as when he had told them about his encounter with Krum and Crouch. This time, he sounded tired and drained. His tone was monotonous, and he kept running his hand over his scar without realising it.
He quickly told them about his vision. The macabre scene he had seen unfold before his eyes frightened Hermione, even though the fire in the Common Room warmed her skin and her favourite scent perfumed her nostrils. He had seen the Dark Lord torturing Peter Pettigrew for failing to do his job. What job, however, none of the three knew.
Then, Harry told of the time he had spent in Dumbledore's office. When he described the pool with the strange substance, Hermione recognised the description and interrupted his story for the first time:
"A Pensieve?"
"Yes, exactly." Harry confirmed. "Dumbledore had closed his cupboard door wrong, and I saw it... I leaned over it and entered his memory."
"Entered his memory?" repeated Ron, dazed.
Harry then described the three scenes he had witnessed that evening. They had all taken place in a courtroom, with Crouch as the judge. He explained the atmosphere and how each memory played out. At the end of his story, the entire Common Room was empty and the sky behind the windows was black, dimming the light in the circular room.
Just like last time, they exchanged several theories, but they were either too tired or too impressed by the amount of stuff Harry had brought back tonight to run out of ideas. While Ron and Harry were discussing Snape's supposed innocence, Hermione was thinking about something completely different...
"Rita Skeeter." she murmured aloud, unintentionally.
"How can you be worrying about her right now?" asked Ron, a little irritated.
"I'm not worrying about her." Hermione replied. "I'm just thinking... Do you remember what she said to me in the Three Broomsticks? "I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl." That's what she meant, isn't it? She covered his trial, she knew he'd given information to the Death Eaters. And Winky too, remember... "Ludo Bagman is a bad wizard." Mr Crouch would have been furious he got off, he would have talked about it at home."
The boys quickly changed the subject. But Hermione was still stuck on Rita Skeeter... Something about that woman gave her a bad feeling, but she couldn't put her finger on it...
They finally went to bed. Crookshanks was waiting for her on her bed again. She lay down and he nuzzled her neck, as he often did. But this time she didn't tell him what had happened, she was too exhausted.
The last few harrowing events, the frantic studying for her exams and the lack of sleep had taken their toll and Hermione fell asleep very quickly, her eyebrows furrowing in her sleep.
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Draco
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When Draco returned from Occlumancy lesson on Thursday evening, he found Pansy standing in the middle of the Common Room, addressing an audience of Slytherins who were listening intently. Even Leo Hills, who had ignored her since their break-up, was interested in what she was saying.
Draco immediately approached the sofa she was sitting on. Her black hair was combed back behind her ears and she described the scene with large hand gestures.
"It was just as Professor Trelawney was explaining the importance of the angles of the planets in Astrology..."
Draco was surprised that all these people were so passionate about Divination. But then he saw that Theo was one of the listeners, and he realised that her story had to be a bit juicier. He listened to his best friend tell her tale, clearly overexcited at having to tell a gossip to so many people in front of her.
"Then, suddenly, he fell to the floor and there was a big "boom" in the classroom. Everyone stood up to look at him..."
"Who's "him"?" interjected Draco, who had no idea what she was talking about.
Pansy looked up at him, only seeming to notice his presence at that moment. Her dark eyes lit up with joy and she replied with a broad smile:
"Potter, of course!"
Draco was much more attentive to the rest of the story.
"So he fell on the floor." Pansy continued, her black-painted mouth still open in a mysterious smile. "At first I thought he'd just fallen asleep and fallen out of his chair. But no! He started screaming, really loud! He was screaming and mumbling things like "Noooo! Stop it!"
Pansy imitated Potter's scream in a shrill voice, and several Slytherins burst out laughing, including Draco.
"Weasley went over to him immediately to wake him up, but poor Potter was too deep in his nightmare to wake up. He was rolling around on the floor, banging his head. It was very funny to watch. And then he finally opened his eyes, but he refused to tell anyone about his dream."
"What do you think it was, Pansy?" asked a third year Slytherin, completely absorbed in the story.
"I don't know, he went to the Hospital Wing and said he had a headache. Professor Trelawney told us she was sure he'd had a vision or a prediction. Most psychics refuse to reveal their gifts at first, so as not to frighten others, you see." she said, suddenly much more serious. It was hard not to hear the admiration for Trelawney in her voice.
Theo rolled his eyes, but Pansy didn't see him. Blaise pouted:
"The only Divination class I miss, there's something interesting going on!" he complained.
"Blaise, you've missed every Divination class since the beginning of the year." Pansy objected, clearly annoyed.
Blaise gave her his best smile.
"That's true."
The Slytherins spent the rest of the evening trying to imagine what Potter had seen in his nightmare. Some ideas made Draco burst out laughing. Even Theo smiled, even though he hated to see people laughing at anyone.
Draco didn't stay long at the party, exhausted from his Occlumancy session. Theo went to bed at the same time as him, and he probably sulked a lot less, because he wished him a good night before closing his curtains.
As usual, Draco took the time to meditate and sort through his memories. That night, he spent it sorting out the first time Granger had sat on the bench with him. It was a sweet memory and he fell asleep with a smile on his face.
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The next day, a Friday, Granger sat at their table in the Library after dinner.
This was a rare occurrence these days, as Granger seemed to spend all her free time with Potter and Weasley. Draco was sure that Potter was still asking her for help with the Tournament, which annoyed him a little, because Granger had large dark circles under her eyes and seemed constantly worried.
The change in her timetable meant that she no longer had the time to study as much as she wanted. With exams just around the corner, her study diary was busier than ever. When she opened it on Friday evening, Draco was startled to hear the notebook actually scolding her.
"You have NOT achieved all your goals this week!" the planner shouted. "You MUST work twice as hard if you are to succeed in learning all the lessons you need!"
Granger abruptly closed the notebook, covering its screeching voice. She looked like she was about to cry. Draco rushed to calm her down:
"Relax, Granger, you're not late at all! You know the whole programme inside out, you'll pass!"
It was always so strange reassuring Granger on this subject. In previous years, he'd desperately wanted her to fail so he could get past her, and now he wanted her to pass more than anything. Granger looked at him, on the verge of tears.
"I didn't do everything... I was supposed to study Potions this week, but I didn't have time..." she said tearfully.
"That's okay, we can study it together tonight if you want." Draco offered. "And you can do it again tomorrow, with Longbottom."
This suggestion reassured Granger. She opened the notebook and rearranged it for several minutes, which seemed to satisfy its enough to keep it from croaking. Even though Draco was getting to know Granger's habits, he was still amazed that she could be yelled at by paper.
"Will you help me study?" she asked when she'd finished.
Draco nodded. He had nothing else to do that evening anyway. So he took Granger's huge pile of Potions study sheets and made her study in a low voice.
Obviously, she had all the answers.
Once they had seen all the important lessons that were likely to be on the exams, Granger crossed out a line from her timetable, which congratulated her. She seemed so pleased with herself that Draco tried to make a comment without bringing her to tears:
"You look tired."
"I am. Harry needs help right now..." she began.
"I know." he cut her off. "I'm just saying, if you need a rest, I'll understand. You don't have to come to the Library every night to keep me company."
"Keep you company?" Granger repeated, amused. "Since when have the roles been reversed?"
"You know what I mean." Draco said. "We don't have to be together every night you're available. You're entitled to your rest. How long has it been since you've had a full night's sleep? Or read a book for pleasure?"
Granger bit her lip unconsciously. Then she swept her eyes over all her open notebooks and shook her head:
"No. I can't, I have to study. I'll take some time off after the exams." she concluded categorically.
Draco didn't insist.
The Library would only be open for another hour, so he went to get a Potions textbook to pass the time. In the past, when he had nothing to do, he had simply left the table without saying goodbye. Now that was practically impossible. He wanted to spend as much time with her as possible, even if it was in silence and concentration.
When he returned to the round table, he was surprised to see that Granger had put her things away and was now busy writing on a blank piece of parchment.
"What are you doing?" he asked as he sat down.
"I'm doing some research."
"For the S.P.E.W.?"
"No." she said simply.
Draco frowned. It had been weeks since Granger had made any progress on the S.P.E.W., he thought if she had time she would be devoting it to that. She must have had another whim if she chose to do it instead of studying. He straightened even more in his chair and tried to read something on her parchment.
"Charm of Disillusionment"? "Shrinking Potion"? "Extended Ears"?! Merlin, Granger, what are you doing?"
"Making theories." she explained, as if that was enough.
"Theories about what?"
She promptly lifted her head and locked her focused gaze with his. She seemed to realise that she had to speak, because Draco was a persistent boy. She sighed and capitulated:
"Theories about Rita Skeeter."
"What?" exclaimed Draco. "But why are you picking on that poor woman?"
"Because I don't understand how she does it!" she snapped. "Every article she puts out, it's like she's right next to us! Listening to all our conversations! Even though she's banned from Hogwarts! She's spilling confidential secrets, and I'd like to know how she manages to hear them in the first place. First Harry, then Hagrid, then Viktor and me..."
"She's just a good journalist." Draco said, and seeing the angry look Granger gave him, he quickly corrected himself : "I'm not talking about her work, I'm just saying she's discreet."
"She wasn't there."
"Maybe she just has very good sources? People who can get her information she wants for money?" offered Draco.
He thought of Pansy, who could give her money to give informations. Granger pondered, her face tight with memories.
"There was no one around when Viktor told me..."
She stopped abruptly and Draco felt a surge of anger inside him.
"What? When he told you what?" he asked, suddenly on edge.
"Nothing. I'm just messing with my head." she said to end the conversation, probably sensing Draco's state. "You're probably right, she must have sources."
Despite her words, she still looked thoughtful. Draco couldn't understand why she was thinking so much about this woman. The article was a long time ago, he didn't see why she was bothering with it on top of all her current problems.
Granger pretended to be doing something else, but Draco could still see her scribbling down theories about the journalist's eavesdropping methods. She kept crossing out a few Muggle words that Draco didn't know. He preferred it when she was a house-elf fanatic, it made more sense.
A few minutes before the Library closed, Granger got up to return to her Common Room. He suspected she was going to help Potter train for the Task. This habit didn't help Draco like Potter, he found him even more selfish than before. How could he not see that his best friend was exhausted? How could he ask so much of her without feeling remorse?
When she yawned and said good night, he gently took her wrist. She turned, surprised at his gesture.
"Could you ask Potter to let you get some rest, please?" he asked her, in the gentlest possible tone.
She rolled her eyes.
"I'm fine." she lied.
Then she walked away, leaving Draco to seriously doubt her words.
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The next day, a Saturday, Draco looked for Granger, as usual, wherever he went.
Of course, he already knew her schedule.
In the morning she would have breakfast with Weaslette and a few other friends, if they were up early enough for her.
Then she would go to the Library to meet Longbottom and spend the morning studying. It usually finished an hour or two before lunch. Sometimes she'd just stay at the table and study by herself.
At lunch, she always ate with Potter and Weasley.
In the afternoon, she usually spent some time in Hagrid's hut. If she wasn't there, she was with Potter and Weasley. Sometimes she would go for a walk around the Lake with Potter. And sometimes she stayed with Weaslette. When it was exam time, she would go back to the Library to study for a few hours before or after dinner.
So, Draco was very surprised to see her, in the middle of a Saturday afternoon, outside with Viktor Krum.
He knew they were seeing each other. He had seen them together several times before, under a tree in the grounds, hidden from prying eyes (except his own). Sometimes she'd have a quick chat with him between classes, or in the Library. But they had never been "on display" like this, in the middle of Hogwarts park, in full view of everyone.
They were sitting on a bench, chatting and eating muffins. Granger was wearing a black skirt, shorter than her uniform, and she wasn't wearing tights. The June sun must have warmed her. Weasley and Potter weren't there. Krum wasn't wearing his usual fleece that he carried everywhere, this time, he was wearing some sort of shirt of a horrible greenish colour that made Draco wrinkle his nose in disgust.
He felt the usual pang of jealousy in his heart. But he also felt something else: anger. Especially towards Granger. She was supposed to be angry with him. She'd explicitly told Draco that Krum had annoyed her by asking about their bond. Yet here, sitting on her bench, her cheeks flushed and her smile revealing her shortened teeth, she didn't look annoyed at all.
"Dray? Are we going or not?"
Draco turned to Blaise. He had completely forgotten that they were walking side by side. He'd stopped dead in his tracks when he'd seen Krum and Granger and had been pondering for too long. Blaise was looking at him strangely.
"We don't have to go if you want..." the dark-haired man went on.
"Yes, we do. Sorry, I thought I saw something." Draco lied as he continued walking.
They continued along the path that led further into the Hogwarts grounds. Granger hadn't seen him walk past her, which annoyed Draco even more. She had been so absorbed in her conversation with Viktor that she hadn't even noticed him. Did the fact that they were out in public mean that they were officially together? With only a month left in the school year?
Blaise continued on his way without speaking. This allowed Draco to ask the hundreds of unanswered questions in his head without being disturbed. Maybe they'd had a fight earlier and just made up? Maybe Krum had given her his muffin to make up for it? Draco muttered something to himself. That muffin didn't even look good.
"Did you say something?" asked Blaise.
"No, nothing." Draco growled.
"Look, here we are." Blaise said, pointing to the Quidditch pitch.
Blaise had asked Draco to come with him to see the site of the Third Task. Apparently, Daphne had told him that it would take place on the pitch. And indeed, as they reached the iconic towers that surrounded the Quidditch field, Draco saw some sort of plant protruding from the edge.
"What's that?" asked Blaise as they approached.
They passed between a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw tower to enter. But they were quickly stopped by a huge hedge in front of them, a deep fir green. Draco came close enough to touch the thorns.
"Do you want to climb one of the towers to get a view from the top?" suggested Blaise.
But before Draco could reply, Ludo Bagman suddenly emerged from the hedges a little further away. He dusted off his skimpy suit and, seeing the two boys standing there, approached them with a look that was both disapproving and proud.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"We've just come to see the site, sir." Blaise explained.
His natural politeness helped Ludo Bagman to smile more, clearly eager to talk about his new construction.
"Ah yes, I see... Well, as you can see, our dear Hagrid is in the process of growing hedges, which should be about twenty feet high by the end of June. I was just checking on the progress. Let me tell you, the Champions will have a hard time of it!"
He turned back to Draco and Blaise, his usually laughing eyes crinkling slightly.
"But I shouldn't be telling you this!" he said, suddenly more serious. "You're not Champions!"
Draco approached him and held out his hand.
"Mr Bagman, allow me to introduce myself. I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy. I was on the official stand at the Quidditch World Cup."
Bagman shook his hand.
"Ah, yes, yes... I see..." he said, although Draco had the feeling he couldn't see who he was at all.
Bagman then naturally turned to Blaise, who shook his hand as well.
"Blaise Zabini, sir. Slytherin."
"Oh, Slytherin!" cried Bagman, suddenly more enthusiastic. "That was my House too, in my younger days at Hogwarts! I should have guessed." he added with a chuckle.
"I wanted to tell you that I've always been a big fan of your Quidditch years, sir." Blaise continued in his melodious voice. "You're a Beater of repute, I'm honoured to finally be able to speak to you."
This praise made Bagman's bulging chest swell and he put on a smug expression.
"Oh, thank you for the compliment, my boy." Bagman replied, his cheeks flushing with pleasure. "I'm flattered that someone so young can admire my -many- victories."
"Of course I can! How could anyone not appreciate your swing of the bat, especially in that match against the Banchory Bangers in '78..."
"But you weren't even born yet!" exclaimed Bagman, laughing.
Draco lost the thread of the conversation, uninterested in Bagman's past exploits. They continued to discuss the important matches in the former Quidditch player's career, and the more the conversation progressed, the rosier Bagman's face became. Blaise was probably trying to coax him into revealing information about the Tournament.
Draco returned to his inner worries. Why were Krum and Granger spending time together? And more importantly, why wasn't she spending what little free time she had in the Library instead of visiting him? He knew he'd asked her to rest and not spend all her time studying, but he hadn't meant to spend it with Krum!
He suddenly felt the need to meditate, to sort out his thoughts. When his head was too full of questions, he liked to take a step back, but he couldn't do that in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. At least, what was left of it.
Draco listened with one ear to the discussion next to him. Bagman was bragging about his victories, encouraged by Blaise's exclamations. When Bagman asked him if he played Quidditch, Blaise replied with an immediate 'yes'.
"What position do you play?" Bagman asked.
"Chaser, sir."
"Difficult, that position, difficult... You have to be as agile as you are clever..."
Draco listened to Bagman's explanation. Blaise nodded frantically, pretending to be deeply interested, but Draco knew him well enough to know that wasn't the case. After several compliments, Blaise finally managed to get what he wanted:
"Anyway, I hope the Quidditch pitch is back to its old self by next year! I'm planning on joining the Slytherin team, so hopefully we'll be able to play on it again..."
"Oh yeah, definitely!" asserted Bagman, looking at the hedges around them. "It'll be as good as new! The land is simply the best place to build the maze, and it'll be much easier for the public to catch a glimpse of it! Of course, it will be difficult to see the centre from above, where they'll have to collect the Tournament Trophy, unless you stand on the northernmost tower, the Slytherin one..." he said, pointing to the stands in question.
Draco made a mental note of this information, as did Blaise, no doubt.
Blaise finally offered Bagman a bet on the Champion and Bagman happily accepted. He was writing down his wager in his betting book when a second person stepped over the hedges. It was Hagrid. He was carrying an impressively large bucket in one hand and an empty barred cage in the other. His forehead was dripping with sweat. When he saw Draco and Blaise on the other side, he dropped both handles and charged at them:
"You! What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here!"
"We just came to see the Quidditch pitch..." Blaise protested.
"'Go away! Now! And don't you dare come back!" growled the gamekeeper.
"Calm down, Hagrid, they're good kids, there's no need to get so upset... We were just having a chat..." Bagman interrupted with a smile.
But Draco and Blaise took advantage of this moment of distraction to leave, after thanking Bagman in their sweetest voices. When they found their way back to the Castle, Draco saw Blaise writing something down in his little notebook.
"So, did you manage to get him to bet you something?" he asked.
"Of course I did. The idiot bet that Potter would win. I'm hoping to get 40 Galleons out of him." Blaise said with a mischievous smile.
On the way back, Granger and Krum were no longer together on the bench.
That calmed Draco down a bit. Now that anger was no longer clouding his judgement, he realised that they had just been talking. He was sure that Granger had reprimanded him for asking about their bond to Draco, she would never have let it go. And if they were indeed a couple, he would have been one of the first to know, thanks to Pansy, who knew everything.
Still, he wasn't completely at peace when he entered the Library. Much to his relief, Krum was alone at his usual table. This time he was reading a parchment full of Bulgarian phrases. When Draco passed him, Krum didn't hesitate to give him a dark look, that Draco imitated.
He was relieved to see Granger already at the table. She looked less tired. She smiled proudly as he sat down:
"I took your advice. I rested!" she said, as if she had achieved something extraordinary.
"Congratulations. You no longer see blurred?" he asked, full of irony.
"I didn't see blurry! Merlin, you can be very dramatic sometimes. I just slept and didn't work all day. I have to admit it did me good." she added with a smile.
"That's good."
Draco was tempted to comment on her conversation with Krum, but he didn't. Granger was finally rested and he didn't want to tire her out by arguing about it again. Besides, he was afraid of what she might say. If she mentioned "feelings" or "declaration" again, he'd be ready to get up, go to Krum, and ask to fight outside. He was sure Blaise would back him up without him having to explain.
He pretended to read his Herbology lesson, but in reality he imagined beating the shit out of Krum. The image warmed his heart. Granger was still testing her theories about Rita Skeeter given the book she was reading: "Stealth Techniques, An Essential Guide to Wizarding Espionage".
His thoughts drifted away from Krum as time went on and he simply watched Granger read. It was as stimulating a sight as ever, no matter how many times he saw it. Her facial expressions changed very subtly depending on what she was reading, and he enjoyed trying to guess what she was thinking as she read. He could see her chocolate eyes scanning the text rapidly.
After an hour, she finally put the book back on the shelf and returned to her seat. Then she took out a long piece of parchment and her best quill, and Draco guessed that she was writing a letter to her parents. He decided to do the same: it had been a long time since he had written to his father, and his discovery of the Third Task would surely interest him.
He told his father all about Bagman, the Quidditch pitch and the principle of the Third Task. The latter looked relatively simple, Draco found it hard to understand what Granger could do with Potter. All he had to do was find his way back and watch out for Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts...
Granger pulled out the last letter her parents had sent her to read something. Draco looked at the strange paper she always received her letters on: it was smooth and very white. Muggle paper. Granger searched for the right page and Draco was suddenly intrigued by something:
"What's that thing?" he asked, pointing to a piece of metal that held the pages together.
"Oh, that's a staple." Granger explained, showing it to him. "It's a sort of iron hook that Muggles use to bind several pages together. My parents use it to attach several papers to me at once."
She showed him how to use the staple as she quickly turned the pages. On one of the papers, Draco noticed a change in the handwriting. Just before Granger closed the pile, he checked the signature.
"Who's Danny?" he asked.
Granger pursed her lips and put the stack of papers back on the table a little too firmly.
"Hmm?" she asked, suddenly distracted.
"Who's Danny?" repeated Draco.
"Oh, nobody." she said, but she was blushing.
She continued writing and Draco couldn't ask her any more questions. Still, the name stuck in his head.
Danny. He had never heard of anyone called "Danny" before. He suspected it wasn't a wizard, because his letter was attached to Granger's parents' letter. Or perhaps she had attached several unrelated letters herself?
Danny... Draco guessed it was actually "Daniel". Nobody was really called Danny, it had to be a diminutive. It was a long letter, obviously they knew each other well enough to exchange a lot of things.
When Granger said goodbye to him at the end of the Library, Draco was still deep in thought. He made his way to the Common Room without looking where he was going. Danny, Danny... Who could that bloke be?
He entered and wasn't even surprised to hear the usual din of a party. The music was blaring, and Pansy was dancing and drinking her foul vanilla whisky, and Blaise was kissing Daphne languorously on one of the sofas, and Draco was wondering who the fuck this Danny was.
Someone handed him a glass, and Draco drank it without looking at the contents. It was disgusting, it burned his tongue, but he continued to drink, staring into space.
In a horrible realisation, Draco imagined the possibility that Granger might have a brother he'd never heard of. A Squib, perhaps, or a boy too young to enter Hogwarts. But it didn't make sense: the handwriting he'd seen was far too neat to belong to a child, and he thought he was close enough to Granger to know enough about her life. She couldn't have hidden the existence of a brother from him.
A cousin, perhaps? But then, why would she answer "nobody" when Draco had asked her who it was? She had clearly been deliberately vague. But why?
Draco put his head in his hands, exhausted, not noticing that he spilled half the contents of his glass.
Why was it that every time he got closer to Granger, he felt like she was pulling away from him?