Mon ange gardien

by virgules

We all know what Harry went through during his years at Hogwarts. But what happened where he wasn't looking? A love affair between his best friend and his nemesis...? Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, from first to seventh year, gradually fall in love during the real books. Chapter every Sunday evening!

72. 72 : truths, lies, or secrets?

Hello everybody!

I love today's chapter, there's a lot of cute scenes in the Library!

here's some notes before you continue :

- there's a slight chronological problem with Snape's class, which is a week out of sync with the book (I think)

- there's a 'long' scene that takes place during Potions class, and as I often listen to playlists related to the place where the action of the story takes place, I've put on a playlist with cauldron noises that I love, I'll put the link here if you want to get in the mood: /hnYt0Eq0P1M?si=zfwwa2pmw9_aSLwa

- Speaking of music, there's a playlist I've created with love and care in which I've put all the music that reminds me of Mon Ange Gardien, here's the link: /playlist?list=PLQ7Uei7CzLYdXbsMLJb75-2D2M-F26sl-&si=EECDViufXkKa_ash

- even though this chapter is very cute with lots of fluffy scenes, there is still a passage where Harry talks about Cedric and mentions his death. I won't put a tw because it's not very detailed, but I'd rather warn you anyway!

- Lastly, I realised while writing this chapter that the students haven't actually had letters instead of marks since the beginning of Hogwarts. In fact, it's only during the O.W.L. that they get O's, E's, A's... Given that I've been giving them letters since first year and I don't really want to go and correct everything, I preferred to pretend that Snape was saying this to tell them that he marked them severely, and I ignored the scene where Fred explains how marks work to Hermione... Sorry!

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Draco

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Draco didn't have time to ask Granger if his suspicions about Rita Skeeter were true, because he had Occlumency with Snape and couldn't go to the Library. But all through their Care of Magical Creatures class, Draco watched her, his head full of theories.

He had a presentiment. A bit like the Time Turner in third year. He knew she had something to do with it. It all added up: Skeeter hadn't written for three months, the same period Granger had caught him telling her secrets under the tree in the Transfiguration courtyard. Three months also coincided with Diggory's death, and why wouldn't Rita Skeeter, the wizarding world's greatest gossip reporter, write about the biggest story of the last decade?

Draco didn't need to reread Granger's letters from that summer; he knew them by heart from reading them every night. He remembered perfectly that Granger had been furious that he hadn't told her the secret of the Animagus sooner, or that he had revealed confidential information about her precious Potter.

But now that Draco thought about it, he'd never explicitly asked her how she'd known.

He watched Granger take notes in class and wondered if this girl, the best student at Hogwarts, the biggest Know-It-All in England, the best friend of the two lamest boys in the school (counting Crabbe and Goyle), might have had something to do with Rita Skeeter's disappearance.

A second year Draco would have said a resounding no. How could that obnoxious, nerdy, whiny girl have threatened such a renowned journalist?

Today, Draco had no doubt.

Granger was involved, one way or another.

His head was still buzzing with questions as he knocked on Snape's door at exactly 6pm. It was his teacher's guttural voice that brought him back to reality.

"Come in!"

Before opening the door, Draco closed his mind.

The room was exactly as it had been the year before: the huge black desk stood in the middle of the room, next to a granite fireplace with a green glowing fire. The room was dark, the only source of light coming from a candlestick on the edge of the fireplace, barely illuminating the parchments Snape was bending over. He invited Draco to sit down and continued writing for a good minute.

Eventually he put down his quill and looked up into Draco's face, his eyes as dark as his desk.

"I see you're Occluding." he said, matter-of-factly.

Draco raised his eyebrows, surprised at this start to a conversation.

"Is it that obvious?" he asked.

"If you know the effects of Occlumency, yes, it can be easily seen." Snape said calmly. "But facial expressions can be corrected, given time."

Snape analysed him for a few more seconds, then seemed satisfied: he stood up and Draco did the same.

"Have you been practising this summer?" asked Snape, rolling up his sleeve.

"Yes, every night." Draco said with a hint of pride in his voice. "I meditated and sorted out my memories, then practised closing my mind quickly."

"What about your mother? Did she notice anything?" asked Snape.

Draco was surprised by the question. He considered the answer, not quite sure what his teacher meant.

"Yes, I think so." he said honestly. "We haven't talked about it directly, but if you can see that I'm Occluding, I suppose my mother can as well..."

"As I told you the first time, your mother has been taught Legilimency and Occlumency from an early age, in accordance with the education of the Black Line for years. Some say that descendants of this lineage have a gift, an ability to close their minds."

Now that he knew his mother was an Occlumens, Draco had actually noticed the changes in her face when she closed her mind. She was even more frozen. He nodded and Snape said nothing more about Narcissa. Instead, he waved his wand at Draco:

"Legilimens!"

Unlike the first few times Snape had entered his mind, Draco barely felt the intrusion. He'd prepared for it. The needle that had hammered away at his brain was now just a light prick. All his secrets were safely tucked away at the back of his mind, out of reach.

Snape was not deterred. He stormed in, conjuring up random memories.

Draco on the bench, watching the sun set over the Hogwarts valley. Hagrid's bloody hippogriff cutting into his arm, and the pain he'd felt at the time. Blaise asleep on his desk in History of Magic. Pansy bursting into laughter at dinner. Potter glowering at him from his broom.

The needle withdrew slowly and Draco inhaled. The memories Snape had taken were harmless. He didn't try to push them away or hide the images that flashed before his pupils. "That's why the first quality of a good Occlumens, is to not be one."

Snape waited a few seconds, and suddenly the needle came back, much more forcefully. It searched every corner of his mind furiously, and Draco felt his heartbeat quicken. But he remained calm. He knew where the memories were and he knew Snape would never get to them. The intrusion went on for several minutes and Draco let it. He knew that pushing him away would expose him.

When Draco could no longer feel the needle, he opened his eyes. Snape had lowered his wand and was looking at him with a frown. Draco felt slightly dizzy and coughed several times, feeling the familiar headache pounding against his right temple.

"I must salute your perseverance, Draco." Snape said gravely. "You can Occlude perfectly now. A science that few wizards manage to master, let alone in such a short time and at such a young age."

Draco nodded, unsure of how to react. He wasn't used to Snape complimenting him.

Somewhere in his mental library, the reason for his relentlessness was smiling at him, coffee-coloured curls framing her face.

"Now I want to see how quickly you can close your mind." Snape announced. "Stop Occluding."

Draco obeyed. Snape waited a few minutes in complete silence. His hand was in his pocket, and Draco knew he had his wand at his fingertips. He waited, his heart beating faster and faster. His hands were clammy. He waited, and the minutes dragged on, inexorably, and Draco stared at Snape's hand hidden in his pocket.

And suddenly, Snape whispered:

"Legilimens!"

Draco had been so sure he was going to brandish his wand that he was taken by surprise. He hadn't realised that Snape could cast spells without it. He closed his mind two seconds after Snape's needle had entered.

"Too late." Snape signalled. "I could see a door. That's where you stored your memories, I suppose?"

Draco, panting for no reason, nodded. Snape conjured a glass of water, which Draco drank in one gulp, and waited patiently for him to catch his breath.

They did this a dozen times. Each time, Draco took a second or two too long to close his mind, and it frustrated him enormously. Snape couldn't get into his library, but each intrusion was more piercing, more painful than the last.

When Snape got a little too close to the door of his library, Draco pushed him back with all his mental strength and let out a groan of pain.

"That's very good, Draco." Snape encouraged, coming out of his mind.

"No, I can't!" cried Draco in frustration. "I can't close my mind fast enough!"

"We'll practise next time." Snape decided. "But you hardly need me now, you've got all the techniques to be a good Occlumens. Don't forget to keep meditating, and practise closing your mind at random moments during the day."

Draco nodded, increasing the throbbing pain in his temple. He was about to leave when Snape called him back. He turned to see Snape rummaging through something in his desk drawer. He placed a vial on the desk.

"Would you mind giving this to Mr Nott?" he asked.

Draco remained motionless. He looked at the potion and recognised the Murtlap Essence by its yellowish colour.

"Why don't you give it to him yourself?" asked Draco dryly.

"Because I think he'd be better off if it came from someone he trusted." Snape replied briskly, unmoved by Draco's sudden anger. "And I know he trusts you."

Draco analysed the situation several times, unsure of Snape's intentions. He stood behind his desk, looking at him through the veil of his black hair. A wrinkle between his eyebrows furrowed his usually closed face.

Draco imagined leaving without taking the potion, just to provoke Snape. Just to force him to find another solution.

Then he thought of the scars on Theo's body that snaked across the skin of his chest, and he gave in. He quickly approached the desk and took the potion in one swift motion. Draco spun on his heels and took the door handle between his fingers, but stopped when Snape whispered:

"You know, Draco, I'm just trying to help him."

Draco felt anger prickle his skin. He clenched his fingers against the door handle and saw his knuckles turn white, but he didn't release his grip. He barely turned to answer him:

"With all due respect, Professor," he spat. "I think you're two years too late for that."

And he was out of Snape's office before he could get an answer.

He walked the few steps that separated the office from the Slytherin Common Room, and muttered the password between his teeth. Like after every Occlumency session with Snape, he didn't feel like eating. The party hadn't started yet, so Draco found his friends in the dormitory. Theo was reading in his chair, Pansy was sitting in Blaise's bed doing her hair with her mirror, and Blaise was getting ready in the bathroom.

"So? How did it go?" he asked, poking his head through the door.

"He said I could Occlude well, but I can't close my mind fast enough, it's driving me crazy." Draco said with a tired sigh.

"Meaning?" asked Pansy, wrinkling her nose.

"He attacks me unexpectedly and I have to close my mind fast enough so he can't get in." Draco explained.

Pansy's eyes widened, as did Theo's, who finally looked up from his book.

What?" he asked. But that sounds terrible!"

"It's mostly frustrating." Draco grumbled. "And it's giving me a bloody headache..."

He massaged his temple as he closed his eyes, unaware of the three concerned looks on his face.

"Are you sure that... this Occlumency is worth it?" asked Theo, worried. "It sounds exhausting."

"Yes, I'm sure." he replied firmly, despite the weakness in his voice.

"What is that you're holding?" asked Pansy.

Draco removed his hand from his burning forehead and held up the vial of Murtlap Essence.

"Snape gave it to me. It's for you, Theo."

He handed it to him and the boy straightened in his chair, not quite understanding.

"For me? Why?"

"Don't know, Snape just told me to give it to you."

Theo took the vial and analysed its contents. As soon as he understood, he hastily put it back in his pocket before Pansy could look at it for too long.

"What is it?" she asked.

"A potion." Theo replied.

"I gathered that." she replied in a shrill voice. "Why would Snape give you a potion?"

"Because he's a Potions teacher." Theo replied, picking up his book again.

Pansy rose from the bed, her arms crossed in displeasure.

"Theo!" she shouted in a piercing tone that intensified Draco's headache.

Theo sighed, and finally confessed without looking at her:

"Because that's the one I stole from his storeroom when he caught me last Monday."

"What?" gasped Blaise from the bathroom. "You stole a potion?"

"Yeah. I do it a lot." Theo mumbled as he pretended to continue reading, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

"But why?" asked Pansy pointedly.

Theo must have realised she wasn't going to let go, because he sighed a second time and reluctantly explained:

"This is Murtlap Essence. I use it on my scars. It's less painful than Dittany, and it's supposed to heal faster."

Pansy froze. Blaise stopped looking in the mirror and looked at Theo through the opening in the door.

"Is that what you were doing, with Granger?" Blaise guessed after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"Yeah." Theo said with a shrug. "She caught me snooping in the potions storeroom, and she defended me when Snape wanted to know what I'd stolen. I told him it was to heal some scars my father gave me, and I think he feels bad that he didn't notice I was disowned, so he repented by making me some potions."

Pansy and Blaise both had the same sympathetic look on their faces and quickly changed the subject so as not to embarrass Theo.

But Draco wasn't fooled.

He knew he was lying.

He'd never heard Theo lie so bluntly before and it was a little disconcerting. But Granger had told him the true story, she had told him that it was she who had stolen Snape's potions to heal Potter. Why would Theo lie? To protect her? To protect Potter?

Draco had never thought that Theo, such a sincere boy, could lie so brazenly. And he realised, once again, how much he belonged in his House.

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When they left Greenhouse Three after Herbology the next day, it was pouring. Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Crabbe and Goyle had to run to the Castle, hiding as best they could in their cloaks. As they entered Potions class, Pansy let out an exasperated wail:

"You see! Celestia Valpan is really shitty, she didn't even warn us it was going to rain today!"

She wrung out her rain-soaked hair.

"I'm probably going to get sick because of her." Theo said, but Pansy didn't notice the hint of sarcasm in his sentence. "And the dampness of the dungeons won't help..."

Blaise took out his wand and cast a Drying and Warming spell on everyone except Crabbe and Goyle, who were shivering behind their desks.

Draco, on the other hand, took the dampness of the Potions classroom in stride. He knew most people hated it, but Draco loved it. The cold, the smell, the sound of the potions in the boiling cauldrons...

"Take your seats and start writing down the ingredients for the antidote to dragon bite venom." Snape announced as the Gryffindors took their places in the classroom. "I have deliberately forgotten to write down some of the essential ingredients... It's up to you to find them, otherwise you'll end up with dragon venom in your veins, which is far from pleasant."

Draco heard Longbottom's small cry of horror. Granger patted him on the shoulder in sympathy.

"Begin." Snape barked.

Draco took out a piece of parchment, almost rolling his eyes at the ease of the exercise. He wrote down the essentials and even added a few ideas, then waited for the class to finish and looked around.

At one person in particular, to be precise.

Granger had her hair tied back with a clip to keep it from swelling from the humidity. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, while Draco was sure she knew all the answers. She eagerly wrote down each ingredient, in the same frenzy she sometimes had in the Library when writing her essays. Weasley, next to her, was completely lost. He cast not-so-subtle glances at Granger's copy.

"You should be done by now." Snape warned after a few minutes.

Blaise and Pansy were well finished, but Theo and Granger were still writing, their pens scratching the paper at the same frantic pace.

"Accio."

All the copies flew onto Snape's desk and he put his wand back in his pocket. Granger was almost out of breath.

"We will now move on to preparing the Strengthening Solution, which you should know by the end of the year, as it will surely be required at the O.W.L."

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Granger take out his cauldron before anyone else.

"But first, I'll return your homework on the moonstone."

Snape picked up a pile of papers and walked between the rows to hand out the assignments.

"I've given you the marks you would have got if you'd handed these in for the O.W.L." the teacher continued. "This should give you a fairly realistic idea of what to expect on examination day."

Snape pushed the parchment onto Draco's desk, a large 'O' smeared across the corner of the paper. He felt a proud smile form his lips.

"Excellent, Mr Malfoy." Snape said quietly. "You understood the paper perfectly. And the addition about the paralysing usefulness of moonstones was a very good move on your part."

Draco's chest swelled with pride. Granger had obviously heard: she blushed and glared at him. When Snape handed in her paper, Draco thought he saw an 'A'.

"Satisfactory work." Snape said curtly.

When he handed Potter and Weasley their homework, he said nothing. Draco knew immediately that their grades had been pitiful.

"The overall grade for this assignment is abysmally low." Snape said as he walked back to his desk. "If this subject had been set for examination, most of you would have failed. I hope you will try harder for this week's assignment on the different types of poison antidotes, otherwise I will be forced to give detentions to those donkeys who can't manage more than a D."

"There were some who got a D?" muttered Draco with a small laugh.

His words had the desired effect: Potter glared at him. Draco gave him the most innocent smile he could muster.

"What did you get, Dray?" asked Blaise, who had turned around.

"Outstanding." he replied, loud enough for Granger to hear his mark again. "And you?"

"Acceptable." said Blaise, showing him his parchment. "Theo got an Exceeds Expectations."

Theo turned for a second to share a smile with Draco and Pansy who were sitting on the desk behind them.

"What about you, Pans'?" asked Draco.

"Acceptable too." she replied.

Draco was sure that Theo had done his homework for her, but he congratulated her anyway.

"You will now prepare your Strengthening Solutions in silence, and individually." Snape announced.

Draco set his cauldron on the fire with a smile. He couldn't wait to tell his mother that he'd gotten an Outstanding for his first Potions test of the year. He started his solution without even looking at the instructions on the board: he already knew all the ingredients.

Draco was pouring salamander blood into his cauldron, dreaming of a future where he was the most famous alchemist in the wizarding world, when he suddenly felt something hit his skull. Surprised, he looked up, but everyone was concentrating and paying no attention to him.

Draco massaged his temple, wondering what could have caused such pain.

A few minutes later, he felt it again. It was a strange sensation, like...

Like a needle.

Draco suddenly raised his head and looked at his Potions teacher who was sitting at his desk. He was completely ignoring Draco.

Could Snape do that?

Could he get inside his head without even looking at him?

When he felt the intrusion again, Draco saw the door to his mental library.

He pushed the needle away violently, and as soon as it was out of his mind, he closed it carefully. He Occluded for several minutes, trying not to panic. When he was sure his library was closed and safe, he opened his eyes again and looked at Snape with fury. But his teacher did not see him: he was still pretending to write at his desk.

When Draco turned his head, he saw that Pansy was looking at him strangely.

"What?" he hissed through gritted teeth.

"You've been panting for the last five minutes like you've run around Hogwarts three times." she said in an almost accusatory tone. "What's the matter with you?!"

Draco didn't answer, and Pansy didn't insist, but continued to glance at him frequently.

Draco's mind remained closed until the end of the lesson. His hand trembled as he held out the sample bottle of his Strengthening Solution, but Snape pretended not to notice. Pansy, Theo and Blaise were waiting for him at the entrance to the classroom.

"Go on, I'll join you." said Draco.

"Why?" asked Pansy, her eyebrows furrowed.

"I need to talk to Snape. About my homework." he lied.

The three of them walked out of the classroom and into Charms, the last class of the day. Draco deliberately put his things away as slowly as possible and when he was finally alone with Snape, he went straight to his desk:

"What the hell were you doing in my head?!" he shouted, not even bothering to check that no one could hear them from the corridor. "In the middle of a fucking lesson?!"

Snape didn't answer and remained impassive, which made Draco even more angry. He wanted him to scream, too, so he could vent his anger the way he wanted to. Snape took his wand and cast a spell on the classroom door before calmly putting it down.

"Occlumency is not a subject to be studied for one hour a week, Draco." the teacher said in his hollow voice, which had a way of embedding itself in Draco like the needle in his head. "I did that to show you that you have to be constantly prepared."

"That's no reason to do it in the middle of class!" continued Draco in a loud voice. "I was surrounded by students! Pansy noticed something was wrong, how could I..."

"Do you really think the Dark Lord would give you a few minutes to prepare, Malfoy?" asked Snape coldly, and Draco shut his mouth sharply.

Hearing that disguised title sent shivers down his arms and spine. It was as if the name sounded even more threatening coming from Snape's mouth.

"You think the Dark Lord, the greatest Occlumens of all time, will be kind to you? Gentle? Patient?" asked Snape, staring into Draco's piercing black eyes. "If that's the case, you're wrong, Malfoy. He won't be any of those things. If one day, you are unfortunate enough to have your mind examined by Him, He will not be as meek as I am. His intrusion will be brutal, poisonous, crushing and destroying all your thoughts, in order to select those that interest him. If He sees, even for a second, the door to your hidden thoughts, he won't ignore it like I do. He'll break it down, plunder it, mark your brain forever. It will be worse than when you passed out from exhaustion. You'll be drained, left for dead, and He'll have seen it all. And He's killed for less."

Draco listened to the tirade in horror. Snape's words seeped into him like snake venom. Snape fell silent, and Draco thought he saw a flash of pain cross his frozen face. He had the impression that Snape had not imagined what he had just said. Perhaps he had already experienced it.

Draco shivered unintentionally and Snape continued in a calmer tone:

"That's why I train you, Draco. In all situations. To get you used to it. So that one day, when you're faced with it, you'll be ready."

He had no choice but to nod, too dazed to speak. Snape waved him off and Draco left the room without another word. He walked to Charms class with an automatic stride. He didn't look at any of the portraits, at any of the students who passed him, his eyes lost in the emptiness, his head still in the Potions class. Every word Snape said was stuck in his head, repeated over and over again. He barely heard Flitwick's thin voice scolding him for being late and ordering him to sit down. He did not notice Pansy's puzzled look in his direction.

He continued to think about what Snape had told him, more determined than ever to practise Occlumency.

Draco spent the Charms class closing and reopening his mind as quickly as possible. He was so focused that he missed the Growing Charm, which Flitwick gave him as extra homework.

He ate his dinner in silence, still haunted by Snape's terrible speech. Draco had always known that Snape had taught him Occlumency for defence, but he had always used it to protect himself from his father. He hadn't really imagined that the Dark Lord himself might one day enter his mind, and the prospect was terrifying.

Snape began to pick at his brain again during dinner.

He hadn't even noticed that his Head of House had taken a seat at the staff table. All Draco felt was an uncomfortable sensation in his frontal lobe, and he realised immediately that it was Snape trying to get inside his head. He Occluded quickly, pushing the needle away.

When his mind was completely closed, he risked a glance at his Potions teacher. Snape was eating in silence, unaffected by Draco's gaze. Still, he could have sworn he saw a sneer curl his lip for a second before it faded.

"Are you coming to the party tonight, Dray?" asked Blaise, drawing his attention back to the table.

"Er, no, I can't." he replied, rather flustered. "I have to... I have to study the Growting Charm that Flitwick gave me for homework..."

Blaise gave a small laugh that made his shoulders shake:

"Damn, you're getting even more studious than Theo!"

"No, not at all." countered Draco, who thought the compliment sounded like an insult in Blaise's mouth. "I've just fallen behind. Besides, don't you think the teachers are assigning ten times as much homework as last year?"

Theo immediately jumped at the chance to explain the importance of the O.W.L. again, and to remind them that he had warned them that they would have to work much harder than before, and Draco listened with one ear, happy to have found a way out.

When Blaise, Pansy and Theo went to the party in the Common Room, Draco slipped off to the Library corridor instead. He didn't really feel like studying: it was Friday, and he had a headache from all the Occlumency he'd had to do during the day. But he went to the Library for a reason.

He found her sitting there, writing with her stypo. She had removed the clip from her hair and was running her hand through it without noticing. The steam from her tea gently caressed her cheeks.

When she heard him coming, Granger looked up in surprise.

"Oh, I didn't think you'd turn up." she said, looking up at him with round eyes.

"I turn up practically every night, Granger." he replied as he sat down across from her.

"Not every Friday." she contradicted, and blushed, probably at the thought that he knew she was analysing his schedule so much. "I mean... it's... pretty rare."

Watching Granger blush was probably one of Draco's favourite things. All the worries Snape had given him since his speech vanished in an instant. In his Library bubble, it was hard to think about the Dark Lord.

Besides, seeing Granger reminded him of what he had to hide in his mind, and he thought that was reason enough to suffer.

"What are you doing?" he asked, trying to see what she was writing.

"A History of Magic study sheet." she replied, showing him her parchment.

Draco thought this was the worst thing to do on a Friday night.

"What about you?" she asked.

"I... I'm not sure." Draco admitted.

Normally, when he didn't have anything to do, he would read a Potions book. But he knew there was a pile of homework waiting for him and he'd better get a move on for the weekend. He reached for his bag, but realised he'd left his things in his dormitory.

"I didn't take my things." he continued. Granger frowned. Trying to think of something to do without his books, he stammered : "I... I thought you could help me with... With the Vanishing Spells, in Transfiguration."

Hearing this, Granger's eyes literally lit up with joy.

"Oh, yes, of course!" she exclaimed, happy to be able to put her knowledge into practice.

She pushed her History of Magic stuff out of the way to clear the centre of the round table, then pulled out her wand at the same time as Draco.

"Do you happen to have anything you could make disappear?" she asked as she rummaged through her bag. "I think I've got an old feather in here..."

Draco pulled a green apple from his pocket, which he'd stolen from the Slytherin table in case he got peckish. Granger nodded and pointed her wand at it as he placed it in front of her. She coughed a little, and the sound reminded him so much of McGonagall that he almost burst out laughing.

"It's quite simple, really." Granger explained, as she always did when she was about to explain the most complex thing Draco had ever heard in his life. "You just have to consider the object, and visualise it in its entirety."

Draco, who had no idea how to "consider an object" and "visualise it in its entirety", merely raised an arrogant eyebrow as he stared at the apple in front of him.

There was more silence, and the apple remained: an apple.

"Are you visualising it?" asked Granger in a low voice, as if afraid to break his concentration.

He nodded, though he had no idea what she could be talking about.

"Now, cast the spell, and don't forget to rest your wand on the apple." she advised excitedly.

"Evanesco." Draco said without much conviction.

The apple remained firmly on the table.

"No, no, you didn't consider the object!" said Granger, this time in a loud voice.

"Yes, I did, it's just a fucking apple!" cried Draco, his ego bruised.

Granger's eyes widened, as they did every time he said a foul word in front of her. She shook her head and pointed at the apple with her wand:

"Look at the apple." she instructed, and he obeyed. "Look at it. What colour is it? What does it taste like when you bite into it? What is its texture? How big is it? What shape is it? Does it have any imperfections? Bumps? Does it fit in your hand?"

Draco analysed the apple, suddenly seeing it in much more detail than before: it was slightly larger than normal apples, a vivid green, and slightly bumpy from its journey in his pocket. He imagined biting into it, almost feeling the acid on the tip of his tongue.

"Now..." Granger continued in an almost hypnotic whisper. "Imagine if all the atoms that make up this apple suddenly disappeared. What would be underneath the apple? What would you see instead?"

Draco imagined the wood of the table, its dark colour. He concentrated so hard he could feel the pressure of his headache between his eyes.

"Cast the spell." Granger breathed.

Draco placed the tip of his wand on the apple and whispered:

"Evanesco."

The apple disappeared. One second it was there, and the next there was nothing on the table. Then, Draco felt a strange sensation, like a vibration along his arm.

"You did it!" exclaimed the Gryffindor, as happy as he was.

"It's not much." he grumbled, though inwardly, he was gloating. "You can Conjure objects, let me remind you, and that's not until sixth year!"

"My success doesn't change yours, Draco." she said wisely. "Just because someone succeeds at something, doesn't mean they're better than you."

Draco didn't really agree, but he didn't insist. He watched Granger wave her wand and rematerialise the apple and felt a surge of admiration for her. If he'd been able to do that, he'd be shouting it from the rooftops. But she just smiled, bit into the fruit and handed it back to him.

The juice dripped down her chin, and Draco thought she had rarely been so cute.

"Do you want to do it again?" she offered, placing the apple back in the middle of the table.

Draco unconsciously massaged his eyelids and Granger watched him, losing her smile.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"Yes, there is something. Do you have something in your eye?" she tried.

"No, I just have a headache." Draco confessed.

"Oh." she replied, clearly surprised. "Oh, I didn't know..."

"How could you have known?" he asked, amused at such a reaction.

"Are you tired?" asked Granger.

"No, I've just had... a long day." Draco admitted.

Our Potions teacher got into my head without my consent during the day and I had to fight him off with my mental strength until I was exhausted.

"Oh." Granger repeated. "I don't know a spell that cures headaches, I don't think..." she added a little pitifully, as if Draco had hoped she might know something about medicinal magic.

She frowned and looked around, hoping to find something to help him. She stopped at her teacup and hastily pointed her wand at it:

"Calefactorius." she said, and immediately smoke rose from her teacup again.

She took the cup and held it out to Draco. It took him a few seconds to realise it was for him.

"Would you like some tea?" she offered with a sheepish smile. "It'll do you good."

Draco looked at the cup in confusion.

"Granger, we've been sitting at this table almost every night for a year now and this is the first time you've offered me tea."

His sentence had no effect other than to widen the brunette's smile.

"Really? How rude of me." she said lightly. "Well, I'm offering you some now."

"I thought you were the only one allowed to drink tea next to Pince's precious books?"

She shrugged, her smile still on her lips.

"You get a pass for tonight. But only because you have a headache, and I'm making sure you don't spoil the precious books in question."

Draco took the cup with two hesitant hands.

"I feel like I'm doing something wrong." he confessed, a little amused.

"I'll have you know that we ate not one, but two giant chocolate eggs on this very table." Granger remarked with a hint of severity in her voice.

"Yes, but you were the one who talked me into it..." said Draco with a false look of fear.

Granger rolled her eyes.

"Drink the tea, Draco."

He raised the cup to his mouth, hiding his smile. He took a sip, and was suddenly struck by the resemblance between this tea and Granger. He had always associated the smell of her cups with the comfort of their study sessions. It was as if he had drunk his Amortentia, the very essence of Granger, the substance of the love he felt for her.

He had never tasted such delicious tea in his life.

He stole a few more sips and couldn't hold back a soothing sigh.

"Is it good?" asked Granger.

"Delicious." admitted Draco, unable to hide his awe.

"Keep it, it'll do your head good." she advised. "It's cinnamon, my favourite."

Draco burst out laughing.

"I noticed." he said. "The smell of Granger."

She laughed at that, but didn't pick it up. If she knew what cinnamon meant to him...

"You could be a teacher, you know." Draco announced, changing the subject.

She looked at him, not understanding. He pointed to the apple:

"I've been practicing making objects Vanish for months now, and I never succeeded until you explained it to me."

Granger tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, a gesture she often made when she was embarrassed.

"Oh, um... No, I don't think so, I'm far too impatient."

"And yet you were patient when you explained to me how to do it." he objected.

"Because you understand quickly. I don't think I could keep my composure with a student who couldn't, I'd want to do it for them."

"Like Longbottom, for example?" asked Draco sarcastically.

Granger gave him a cold look, stung that he would dare to make fun of her friend.

"No, I was thinking more of Crabbe and Goyle." she hissed, surely hoping to be unkind.

Draco shrugged: he thought Crabbe and Goyle were stupid too, it didn't affect him much.

"If you don't want to be a teacher, what do you want to do?" asked Draco, genuinely curious. "After Hogwarts?"

He had expected her to answer immediately, that she had been planning her career for years. So he was surprised when she took the time to think.

"I'm not really sure." she admitted thoughtfully. "I'm interested in a few professions, but I don't really know which one I would like the most..."

"Which ones?"

"When I first came to Hogwarts, I wanted to study Healing Magic, but I found that it involved a lot of potions and I'm not particularly passionate about it." Granger counted on her fingers. "When I was little, I wanted to run a bookshop, and I think that would suit me much better, but it's Muggle... So I'd thought about working at Flourish and Blotts. But lately, I've taken an interest in the Ministry, especially the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, and I thought I could use the ideas of the S.P.E.W. to continue to fight for the rights of house-elves... I was determined to do so, but with everything that's happened with that dreadful Umbridge... My opinion of the Ministry has really taken a beating."

She finished her list with a worried look on her face, as if she feared his reaction. Still, he thought they were three fairly logical jobs, and very much in line with her.

"I think they're good ideas." he said, and the phrase brought a new smile to Granger's face, one that dug small dimples in her cheeks and showed her too-short teeth. "And I don't think Umbridge represents the whole Ministry..."

"Perhaps, but I certainly wouldn't want to work in a place that could tolerate that kind of behaviour. I find it deplorable."

Draco felt the corners of his mouth turn up. He could have sworn Theo had said the same thing to him at lunch.

"What about you? Do you still want to do Alchemy?" she asked, taking the apple back and biting into it again.

Draco was surprised that she remembered.

"Yeah, why not. It's what I'm most interested in, anyway." he said with a nonchalant shrug.

"If Snape thinks you have an aptitude for it, you must be really good at it." she remarked encouragingly.

But the comment made Draco uncomfortable: it reminded him that he was lying to her, and he hated that. He would have liked to tell her that he didn't really practise Alchemy on Thursday evenings, but he knew that the moment he told her about Occlumency, she would want to learn, and he wasn't ready to teach her yet.

Draco pointed to the paper she had left behind to train him in Vanishing Spells:

"I'm stopping you from working."

She looked at her study sheet in surprise, as if she'd forgotten it existed until now.

"Oh. Well, actually, I already know the lesson." she said shyly. "It's a chapter we haven't studied yet, about the Gargoyle Strike of 1911, but I've already read a book about it... Do you want me to study? That way, you'll learn too."

She handed him the paper with her round handwriting, written in her strange stypo ink, and Draco took it.

"Right. So... what were the three main demands of the gargoyles during the strike?"

"The first was the desire to be able to choose their place on the monument, wall or fountain to which they were assigned, the second was to be cleaned at least twice a month by a competent wizard, and the third was the demand for paid holidays." Granger recited without the slightest hesitation.

"Which wizard opposed the strike in 1912 and why?" asked Draco, who was reading Granger's notes at the same time.

"Boyd Crooks." she replied immediately. "He wrote an article in the Daily Prophet calling for the strike to end because there were no Gargoyles to show the wizards the way, and it was causing huge traffic jams on the streets..."

Draco listened intently, asking her several questions about her lesson, which she answered with breathtaking accuracy.

And there, sipping his cinnamon tea and listening to Granger's soft voice as she recited her notes, Draco thought that studying History of Magic on a Friday night might not be so bad after all.

.

.

---

Hermione

---

.

.

Hermione didn't dare mention her idea of Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons to Harry again, lest he get upset again. He remained grumpy all weekend and the following week. On top of that, with Umbridge's detentions, he didn't have time to do his homework, which seemed to make him very stressed. Hermione helped him as much as she could, correcting his essays while he dozed half asleep on the sofa, completely exhausted.

His hand was as lacerated as ever, but Hermione stopped herself from going back for more Murtlap Essence. If she ran into Snape again, he would have no trouble understanding what had really happened last time.

So she preferred to keep up the hellish pace of classes, studying, helping the boys with their homework and knitting. The only time Hermione could really relax was when she was studying in the Library with Draco. There, she laughed, a habit she had lost a few weeks ago.

But every time she went back to the Gryffondors, the guilt came back and slowly ate her up inside. How could she enjoy these moments with Draco when Harry was suffering all the time?

One night in September, Hermione was studying in the Common Room. The fire crackled in the fireplace, a sound she loved and which helped her concentrate on the runes before her eyes. Tiredness made her eyelids droop, but she was determined to finish translating the text before going to sleep.

When she heard footsteps on the dormitory stairs, she didn't even have to turn her head to guess who it was. She could recognise the sound of his footsteps anywhere.

Harry sat down on the sofa beside her with a tired groan. He was wearing plaid pyjama bottoms and a navy sweatshirt, and his hair was a mess. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and pulled his glasses back on tightly, stifling a yawn.

"Can't sleep." he muttered.

He avoided looking at her. He looked troubled.

"Oh." Hermione said, not sure if he wanted to talk about it.

He looked into the fire, as he often did when he was thoughtful, and Hermione let him do so in silence. She continued reading her runes.

After a moment, Harry said in a barely audible whisper:

"I'm still having nightmares."

Hermione looked up, surprised at such a confession. Usually she had to insist that he tell her everything that was on his mind. The fact that he was revealing his torment to her on his own was proof that he was in desperate need of reassurance.

"Nightmares about what?" she asked quietly, making sure not to look at him, lest he feel scrutinised.

"About... About that night. In the cemetery." Harry said in one breath.

She didn't show any surprise at hearing those words, though it was the first time he'd brought it up since he'd lost his temper in Grimmauld Place.

"Are you... Are you seeing the same scene again?" she asked in a slightly alarmed tone.

"Sort of, yeah." Harry replied, his eyes still fixed on the flames. "I... I see the graveyard again, and I feel the dread that came over me the first time I saw it. I see Pettigrew again, and I feel the anger, the hatred I have for him, and I blame myself for not picking up my wand sooner, for not..."

He did not finish his sentence, still lost in his painful memories. Hermione listened to him without saying anything, her muscles paralysed by his story.

"I see Voldemort again..." he continued, ignoring the shudder that ran through him as he said it aloud. "I see Voldemort again and I feel... The terror I felt when I saw him in Pettigrew's arms, I feel the waves of power emanating from his body, the smell of dark magic that seemed to fill the place... I see Cedric again, and..."

A sob escaped his lips and Hermione immediately put a hand on his shoulder. Still not looking at her, he continued, his voice shaking:

"I see Cedric again, and I feel the desperation, the visceral urge to help him, but I can't. I try to shout at him to fight back, to point my wand at Wormtail to stop him from killing him, but I can't, I never have the time or the strength, and I watch Cedric die again before my eyes... I can't escape it, Hermione. I watch him fall, every night. Every night since the Third Task."

Hermione felt a tear roll down her cheek, but she didn't notice, too caught up in Harry's distress. She clutched the sleeve of his jumper in a gesture of comfort.

"Why did I tell him to take the Cup, Hermione?" asked Harry tearfully.

"Oh, Harry..."

"And I see my parents again." he said, his voice hoarse. "When our wands linked, you know? I saw my parents, and Cedric, and Bertha Jorkins, and my parents... They were more real than ever. I know they were just ghosts, or apparitions, or whatever." he said, seeing that she was ready to contradict him. "But somehow, they were even more real than in the Mirror of Erised, because I could hear their voices. I'd never heard their voices before."

"What were they like?" asked Hermione curiously.

"My mum has the same red hair as Ginny, only longer, and she has a gentle smile, and my dad has the same hair as me, almost as dishevelled as it is now." he replied with the shadow of a smile. "They are beautiful. But they were afraid, I think. They were confident that I would manage to escape, but there was terror in their eyes."

"I suppose all parents would be frightened." said Hermione.

"Maybe." Harry agreed. "But it was the first time I'd ever seen it. Concern from my parents. I'd seen my aunt and uncle worry about Dudley hundreds of times when we were little, whenever he had the slightest problem, but I'd never had that. Somehow, I think that's what kept me going.

"You know they're still there, don't you?" asked Hermione.

For the first time since he'd sat down, Harry looked into Hermione's eyes. His green eyes were filled with tears.

She put her hand where his heart was, and felt the frantic beating against her fingertips.

"They're looking after you, Harry." she murmured quietly.

He smiled and Hermione did the same. She held her hand against his sweatshirt for a few seconds.

"You know, with everything that happened afterwards, I didn't even have time to tell you, but... I'm so glad you came back from the graveyard, Harry." she said sincerely.

She thought he was going to start sobbing, but Harry just nodded, still with his sad half-smile:

"Do you know you're the first person to ever say that to me?"

Harry moved his hand to Hermione's warm cheeks to wipe away her tears. They looked at each other for a long moment, and when the emotional charge around them became a little too much, Harry sniffed and pointed to the runes book:

"What are you reading?"

"Oh, um..." Hermione stammered, also looking at the book. "It's just my rune study textbook, sorry, it's not very interesting..."

"You can study and knit at the same time?" asked Harry, surprised.

"It's just translation." Hermione explained, showing him the page with the symbols. "I put it in front of me and knit, trying to remember my rune alphabet."

"Hermione, you never fail to impress me."

There was a new sound of footsteps on the stairs and Ron came into the Common Room, his eyes half closed with sleep and yawning uncontrollably.

"What're you doin?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I came down to keep Hermione company." Harry explained, watching him over the edge of the sofa. "What about you? You were fast asleep when I left."

"I heard you leave and didn't hear you come back, I thought you'd gone with the invisibility cloak... Merlin, Hermione, don't tell me you're working! It's the middle of the night!"

Ron walked around the sofa to sit on Hermione's left and, as if by reflex, lifted her legs to rest them on his thighs. It was a completely innocuous gesture, one that Fred did often and that had never bothered Hermione before. But when it was Ron doing it, it sent a series of shivers down her legs that were hard to ignore.

"I always translate runes when I can't sleep!" she exclaimed in justification.

"And you've left your knitting all over the Common Room again?" continued Ron, pointing to a pair of socks rolled into a ball on one of the tables. "Hermione..."

She was about to reply when Harry interrupted them in an overwhelmed voice:

"Stop arguing, both of you."

They obeyed, but not without one last angry look at each other. It was very contradictory: he annoyed her as much as she loved him, sometimes.

"So what were you translating, Hermione?" asked Harry, looking at the open textbook on the table.

"It's a text about Viking women who become pirates to escape marriage." Hermione explained.

"Well, that must help you fall asleep." Ron remarked, wrinkling his nose as he tried to decipher the text.

"Not at all, it's very interesting." Hermione protested. "But right now, I'm rereading the legends of the Knights of the Round Table..."

"I know that one!" exclaimed Ron suddenly. "Mum used to read them to us when we were little!"

"I read them the year before I went to Hogwarts, but I decided to read them again to understand the character of Merlin." Hermione explained, pointing to the huge book she had placed next to her textbook.

Ron frowned:

"What? How could you know about the Knights of the Round Table before you came to Hogwarts? They're wizarding legends!"

"It exists in the Muggle world too." Hermione pointed out.

"How is that possible?" asked Ron, stunned. " There's magic in it!"

"I already told you, magic exists for Muggles, but only in fairy tales or fantasy stories." Harry explained, resting his head on the edge of the sofa.

"I find it hard to understand how you didn't know that magic really existed when you had books on the subject..."

Hermione and Harry rolled their eyes at the same time. They had explained the concept of Muggle magic to Ron hundreds of times, but he always pretended not to understand.

"Would you mind reading a bit, Mione?" asked Harry in a sleepy voice. "I've never read this book."

Hermione turned her head towards him and saw that his eyes were closed, his cheek pressed against the pillow. Ron nodded in agreement and sank into the sofa as well.

"All right, I can read for a bit." Hermione said as she picked up the huge book and propped it up against her raised legs.

She began to read in a low voice:

"Chapter One: The Quest of Sir Ivain. A long, long time ago, England was not ruled by a single King as it is now, but by several Kings who shared the land and were always at war with each other. Of all these Kings, the noblest of all was King Arthur..."

Crookshanks leapt onto the sofa and wedged himself into the space between Ron and Hermione's legs, which were still intertwined. He curled up into a ball and immediately purred, creating pleasant vibrations against Hermione's skin. Ron stroked his neck absentmindedly, already lost in the story.

Hermione continued to read in a soft voice, just like her mother used to do when she read her stories. Harry fell asleep very quickly, probably lulled by her voice, the crackling of the fire and Crookshanks' purring. Ron kept his eyes half open and continued to pet the cat as he listened to the story.

They stopped as the first light of day broke into the room. Hermione stood up, sore from sitting in the same position for several hours. As she reached for the book to take it to her dormitory, Ron stopped her by brushing her wrist:

"No, leave it." he whispered so as not to wake Harry. "I want to hear the rest tonight."

Hermione nodded and put the book down on the table, then looked at her best friend. His glasses were hanging dangerously from his nose and the arm he was sleeping on must have been quite stiff. Yet, Hermione hadn't seen him this calm for months.

She continued to read them the King Arthur stories every night that week.

And Harry had no nightmares.

Hermione was so busy that when she arrived in the Common Room the following Thursday morning, she didn't immediately understand why Harry, Ron, Ginny and Neville were waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.

"Happy birthday, Hermione!" they all shouted in unison.

"Oh, thank you everyone!"

"You forgot again, didn't you?" guessed Ron with an amused smile.

"Yes, a bit." Hermione admitted with a wry smile.

"Here, open my present first!" called Ginny hurriedly.

Hermione took the gift that was held out to her, beautifully wrapped in pink wrapping paper with floral patterns that moved magically. Hermione unwrapped it and was delighted to find scented candles to brighten up her nightly study sessions in the Common Room. Harry had given her a gold portable telescope and Ron had bought her a beautiful hardback copy of Hogwarts: A History. As much as she loved the book, Hermione couldn't help but feel a little disappointed when she opened his present. She had the impression that he gave her books every year.

Neville handed her his present with red cheeks. It was a beautiful notebook with thick pages for their study sessions, and Hermione found the thought particularly touching.

When they went down to breakfast in the Great Hall, a big brown owl brought her the rest of her presents: her mother had sent her a book on knitting for beginners, which came at just the right time. Her father had added skeins of wool in Hermione's favourite colours, with a note asking her to make him some socks for Christmas. Danny had sent a small parcel of Cadbury's chocolate fingers and stationery. He had also included a letter, and Hermione took advantage of the fact that everyone was chatting to read it discreetly:

Happy birthday, Mimi!

I haven't even sent you a letter since you left, shame on me! I only noticed the date yesterday so I could only get you Cadburys. I'm sorry, what a bad friend I am. But I'll make it up to you, I promise! I'll send you a watercolour sketch as soon as I find the time, so you can add it to your "personal collection of Danny's drawings".

Anyway, I hope you have a great day. May it be filled with classes and hard studying, just the way you like it. By the way, do you remember the book I gave you for Christmas in 1992? "How not to be overwhelmed by work in five steps"? You should read it from time to time, just to refresh your memory... :)

Totally unrelated, but you'll never guess who I met the other day! Mary! I don't know about you, but I haven't spoken to her in years. She didn't even recognise me when I stopped her. We had quite a chat and she told me she'd changed schools to go to East London. She wants to work in fashion when she graduates. She asked me about you and asked me to wish you a happy birthday, so I'll do that: happy birthday again, Mimi.

Otherwise, not much to report. It's raining almost every day. Leonie had her first piano recital at the conservatory and she plays really well. Thomas has started studying engineering, but I don't think he really likes it. And I'm thinking about taking music lessons, maybe guitar, but I don't think my parents would accept me doing both drawing and music, so it won't be for a while.

Your parents are fine, I had tea with them last weekend. They told me you'd taken up knitting - I had no idea! What made you start? I thought you were too impatient to knit. So I'm asking for a pair of gloves for the winter, please :)

I look forward to hearing from you. I hope Harry, Ron and Ginny are well. The same goes for Draco, the boy I met this summer. Did he enjoy his visit to London?

Happy birthday again, I can't wait to see you again.

All the best,

Danny.

Hermione folded the letter up with a smile, mentally preparing her reply. She put it away, along with the letter from Viktor, which she didn't want Ron to see, lest he ask her a hundred questions about their correspondence. Looking through the rest of the parcel her parents had sent, she noticed that there were still a few books at the bottom. There was a note inside, and Hermione recognised her mother's handwriting immediately:

I found these books when I was tidying up and I think they are yours. I'm sending them to you in case you need them.

Love,

Mum.

Hermione picked up the pile of books: most of them were textbooks from previous years, or extra reading for her lessons that she hadn't been able to take with her due to lack of space. The last book, however, had nothing to do with a textbook: it was a beautiful herbarium with a green cover.

"Merlin, Hermione, what's this?" asked Neville, who was standing opposite her and had also spotted the notebook.

"It's a herbarium that my grandmother gave me for Christmas in first year." she explained, recognising the book. "I never got a chance to complete it..."

"Can I see it?" asked Neville in astonishment.

Hermione handed it to him and Neville opened it carefully, inspecting each page as if it were extremely fragile.

"Is it Muggle?" asked Neville, his head still bent over the notebook.

"Yes. My grandmother doesn't know I'm a witch. She sent me this five years ago, along with an encyclopaedia of medicinal plants. It's in my dormitory, if you want I can show it to you tomorrow."

Neville nodded in agreement. Hermione knew he had a special fondness for Herbology, but she hadn't thought he'd be so interested. She watched as he inspected every inch of the notebook.

"We can do it together, if you like." she offered enthusiastically.

Neville looked up at her without understanding.

"Do what?"

"Collect plants for the herbarium." Hermione said. "We could put a flower or plant name on each page and try to find some around Hogwarts?"

Hermione had rarely seen Neville so excited.

"Oh yes, I'd love to! Oh, maybe we could even find some moly, they say there's some in the valley!" he exclaimed, his cheeks flushed with euphoria. "And maybe I could tear off a leaf or two from my Mimbulus mimbletonia... But are you sure you don't mind? Didn't you want to do it yourself?" he asked abruptly, reluctantly handing the herbarium back to her.

"No, not at all, I'd love to do it with you." Hermione replied. "Besides, you know a lot more about it than I do, I'd need your expertise to locate the plants."

Neville blushed intensely and stared down at his napkin, stammering his reply:

"Oh, er, thank you, Hermione... Well, I would love to... When would you like to do this?"

"Saturday, after our study session?" she offered.

"Perfect!" Neville replied with a genuine smile.

Hermione put the pile of presents down beside her and joined in the Gryffindors' conversation. When Fred and George arrived and exploded their tubes of confetti over her head, Hermione couldn't help but burst out laughing with the others. It felt so good to have some fun in these dark times that she wasn't even embarrassed. They all sang "Happy Birthday" over and over again, getting louder and louder to irritate Umbridge, who was eating at the staff table.

And Hermione smiled and sang along, trying not to think that this was the first year since she had been at Hogwarts that she hadn't received the usual pumpkin biscuits from Hagrid.

.

.

.

.

"What do you want to do now?" asked Ron as they walked back up to the Common Room after dinner that evening. "Do we start our homework, or celebrate Hermione's birthday with a game of chess?"

"I'd much prefer to do my homework." Hermione said and Ron burst out laughing. "But you'll have to do it without me. I've got the Prefects' round tonight, remember?"

"That's right, I forgot!" exclaimed Ron in despair. "Poor Hermione, you're going to have to sit through a prefects' round with Malfoy, and on your birthday, too!"

Hermione walked through the opening in the painting and shrugged, trying to look detached:

"Surely it won't be that bad..."

"Are you joking?" interjected Harry, his eyebrows raised above his glasses. "It's bad enough that spending the evening with Malfoy is worse than going to Hell, but on your birthday..."

Hermione pursed her lips, trying not to think about how many evenings she had spent in the company of "Malfoy" since the previous year.

Ron looked confused:

"What exactly is "Hell"?"

Harry gave him a brief explanation of the Muggle concept of Hell, while Hermione went back up to her dormitory to change before going out on rounds. She had expected to be alone, so when she entered and saw Lavender in the middle of the room, she jumped in surprise.

"Oh, er, sorry, I didn't know you were in here."

Lavender dropped her eyes in embarrassment.

"Um, I won't be staying long, I just came to get my tarot..."

Hermione nodded, not sure what to say. Her relationship with her flatmates had deteriorated badly since Lavender had accused Harry of lying about the Dark Lord's return. Now, they barely exchanged a few words or communicated through Parvati, who was tired of acting as a messenger between them.

But as Hermione approached the bathroom with the firm intention of locking herself in while Lavender left, she was surprised to be stopped by the blonde's tentative voice:

"Er, Hermione?"

"Yes?" she replied, a little too brusquely.

"I just wanted to say, um... Happy birthday."

"Ah. Thanks."

She still hadn't quite got over what Lavender had said about Harry, but she smiled at her anyway, because she had taken a tentative first step forward and Hermione didn't want to spoil the mood by sending her away. Lavender nodded, twirled the tarot deck in her hands a few times, and then headed for the door:

"Um, see you later then."

And she left quickly, probably to get away from the tension in the room. Hermione quickly changed into jeans and a white jumper, tied up her hair and hurried downstairs so as not to be late for her rounds. Harry and Ron had started a game of chess.

"I'm off. Will you be awake when I get back?" she asked.

"Probably. Rook to A6." Ron said, watching his piece move along the chessboard.

"Do you want us to come and help you, just in case Malfoy bothers you?" offered Harry, his voice full of concern.

"No, don't worry, he's not as... Obnoxious as he used to be." Hermione assured him. "I think he'll just ignore me."

"Feel free to threaten to turn him back into a ferret if he says anything to you out of line." Ron advised, his eyes still fixed on his pieces.

"Good idea." she replied, a little amused as she imagined Draco's reaction if she dared to use that threat.

"Have a good round, Mione!" called Harry as he saw her leave, half concentrating on his pieces which were being shredded by Ron's attacks. "Call us if you need us!"

Hermione left through the painting that closed behind her and took the stairs down to the ground floor. Since it was Thursday, she knew there was a chance that another student had replaced Draco so he could go to Alchemy. He had never missed a private lesson with Snape. Still, she hoped not. She just wanted to spend the evening with Draco.

She had no idea where she was supposed to meet him, so she went to the Great Hall, hoping he would be in the same place. She walked down the stairs and saw him leaning against the stone wall, dressed all in black. Hermione's heart leapt in her chest.

"Good evening, Granger." he greeted in his usual drawl.

Looking at him, Hermione could have sworn she was spending the next three hours with Malfoy, not Draco. He had that arrogant smirk on his face, the same one he used to insult her with. His voice was disinterested, flat, and his eyes had that inexplicable veil that hid his emotions. He acted exactly like Malfoy, only he wasn't Malfoy.

This bivalence was disconcerting.

"Good evening, Malfoy." she said, so that the students who had just come from a late dinner would not suspect anything.

They began by inspecting the first floor of the Castle, looking for any first or second years who had overstayed their curfew. They checked every nook and cranny in dead silence, which made Hermione uncomfortable. She hated silence.

Draco, on the other hand, was perfectly calm. He walked a little ahead of her, his hands in the pockets of his black cloak. From time to time, she risked a glance at him, but he pretended not to notice and continued walking without saying a word.

Even though they didn't speak, Hermione found it very strange to be walking next to Draco in the middle of Hogwarts. In front of everyone. It was the first time they'd been able to show their faces without fear of being discovered. She had experienced this when he had visited her in London and they had been able to walk side by side through the streets without anyone stopping them. That had never happened here, and apart from a few surprised glances in their direction, no one really noticed.

At 9pm, the last students hanging around the corridors returned to their Common Room. Except for a group of fourth years playing cards in a corridor on the fourth floor, Draco and Hermione saw no one else. They walked on without saying a word to each other. Perhaps Draco was afraid to talk to her when they were so exposed. She didn't dare to start a conversation.

After a -very- long time, Draco finally slowed down and came to stand next to her. When she turned her head towards him, she saw that he was smiling. Not the Malfoy smirk, but Draco's real smile, the one she loved.

"Happy birthday, Granger." he whispered.

She couldn't help but widen her eyes in surprise: she still hadn't realised that he could remember such information about her.

"Oh, thank you, Draco." she said sincerely. "I assume you heard the birthday songs this morning."

"Yes, I did. I came in just as the Weasley twins were throwing the second bucket of confetti on your hair." he said with a chuckle. "But I already knew it was the 19th of September. As Pansy would say, you're a Virgo. Like Theo."

"Yes, but I have no idea what that means." she admitted. She had little interest in Astrology. "And you're... a Gemini?" she tried to guess.

"That's right. And I don't really know what that means either." he said.

They climbed a few steps to the fifth floor and turned left, to the foot of the Ravenclaw tower. No one was there, but they stopped talking anyway, in case the surrounding paintings were overhearing their conversation. They went round the stairs, Hermione checked the girls' toilets, and when they found no one, they went up to the sixth floor.

This floor was much emptier. There were no paintings on the walls, only tapestries to brighten up the dark corridors. The only sounds they heard were their footsteps on the stone floor, and the faint chirping of a distant bird.

Draco took advantage of the lack of life to break the silence once more:

"Speaking of Astrology..."

He looked at Hermione, half amused, half irritated.

"I've discovered a new secret of yours." he announced seriously.

"You say that like I have hundreds!" said Hermione, feigning annoyance as her heart suddenly began to beat faster.

"You have hundreds." Draco replied automatically. "You may say otherwise, Granger, but I think you're one of the most mysterious people I know. Maybe tied with Blaise."

She rolled her eyes, secretly flattered by the compliment.

"Anyway, I've discovered another one." Draco continued very solemnly. "One of your many secrets."

"Something to do with Astrology?" Hermione repeated, confused.

"Yes."

"Are you referring to the fact that I dropped out of Divination?" asked Hermione, racking her brain to figure out what he meant.

Draco rolled his eyes as if she had just underestimated him.

"No, I've known since third year. I'm still convinced it was because of your Time Turner, by the way... And you didn't just "drop out" of Divination." Draco added, cutting Hermione off just as she was about to deny his insinuation about her necklace. "You left in a fury and threw a crystal ball on the floor, there's a difference."

"How could you possibly know that?" asked Hermione, surprised to hear so much detail.

"Because I know everything." Draco said proudly. Then he added more quietly: "And because Pansy told me."

"Ah, Parkinson, of course." Hermione sighed. "Well, if it wasn't Divination, then what secret are you talking about?"

"You really have no idea?" he asked.

Hermione thought. She hadn't hidden anything from Draco in the last few weeks, except maybe her cuddle with Ron and her correspondence with Viktor, but she didn't really see what that had to do with Astrology, and she didn't know how he could have found out about it. While she thought about what had happened recently, they went up another floor and arrived in the dark corridors of the seventh floor.

"Merlin, are you hiding so much from me?" exclaimed Draco with a hint of panic when he saw how long it was taking her.

"No, I just have no idea what you're talking about!" Hermione snapped impatiently as she came to an abrupt halt in the corridor.

"You don't? Really? You have no idea?" asked Draco with a hint of irony. "Would the name "Skeeter" help you remember?"

His outburst caused a painting to open a lazy eye.

In a flash, Hermione saw the beetle trapped in the jar and let out a hiccup of surprise.

Draco resumed his walk at a brisk pace and Hermione hurried after him.

"Skeeter?" she asked in a feeble attempt at indifference.

"Yes, Skeeter." Draco repeated, lowering his voice but still sounding annoyed. "I know you had something to do with her absence."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know very well that you do." Draco said, his gaze hard.

Hermione had gotten used to arguing with Draco, his repartee was so quick that sometimes she found it hard to keep up with their own discussions. But this one was different from all the others she had known: usually, they sat and passed each other's sentences back and forth like a timeless game of table tennis. Now they were walking, and Hermione had to keep up with Draco's pace, which was much faster than hers, and the conversation, which was taking an accusatory turn she had not anticipated.

She was fascinated by Draco's way of keeping her off balance. He was the only one who could do that.

"You're always involved." he retorted immediately, as if he'd already guessed her question before she'd even asked it.

He turned his head towards her and they exchanged a glance, gazing for a moment into those icy blue eyes that almost petrified her. She could hardly decide whether he was irritated or delighted to have managed to unravel yet another mystery about her.

"I just hate her." Hermione explained. "Her absence is a happy coincidence and I don't regret it at all. Satisfied?"

Draco then made a move she hadn't expected at all: he took a step past her and cut her off by standing in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. He was close, too close. She could smell the scent of his green apple cologne and mint on his skin.

"You're lying to me, Granger." he whispered, like a warning. "Tell me what you did to Skeeter."

"I didn't do anything to Skeeter."

"Another lie." Draco remarked in a suddenly light tone.

He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek, brushing away a strand of hair as he went. Hermione's heart skipped a beat.

"Tell me what you did to Skeeter." he repeated, even more quietly. He looked at her and Hermione was lost in his troubled eyes.

"I didn't do anything to Skeeter." she repeated stubbornly.

"You told me in your letter that you knew her secret." he said very slowly, as if trying to put the pieces of a puzzle back together. "So, between the Third Task and the summer, you discovered her secret. Did anyone tell you?"

"No." she replied defiantly.

"Did you find out when you saw me talking to her under the tree?" asked Draco.

"Not only that." she objected, unable not to share her knowledge. "I realised she was an Animagus because it was the only possible explanation after she'd been able to overhear such private conversations: Hagrid talking about his mother, Viktor pulling me aside during the Second Task, Harry having a nightmare in Divination... (Draco had frowned at the mention of Krum's first name, but Hermione sped up her story so he couldn't ask her any questions). At first I thought she was a cockroach, but I realised she could turn into a beetle when I found one on the windowsill of the hospital wing."

"And what did you do?" the Slytherin asked, his eyes twinkling with greed.

He moved even closer to her and Hermione felt the alcove against her back. Draco put a hand to the side of her head and waited for her answer with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione hesitated, unconsciously biting her lip.

"If I tell you, will you promise not to tell anyone else?" she asked in a small voice.

It was hard to think clearly with him looking at her like that. His face was too close to hers, just like when they'd been shouting at each other at the Ball. His eyes were riveted on her and he slowly examined her, moving his gaze from her eyes to her mouth, and Hermione parted her lips without even noticing.

With each breath Draco exhaled, she could feel the mint cooling the tip of her tongue.

"I promise." he whispered, and Hermione instantly believed him, without knowing why.

"I locked her in a jar." she confessed, so quietly that she wondered if Draco had heard her.

But when his eyes widened, she realised that he had indeed heard her.

"Wh-What?" he blurted out, not even bothering to whisper anymore.

"I locked her in a jar and took her back to London with me." Hermione explained very calmly.

Draco suddenly looked at her as if he saw her for the first time.

"Are you joking?" he asked after a few seconds of silence.

"No, I'm not. I locked her in a jar, put an Unbreakable spell on her so she couldn't turn again, and threatened to tell the Ministry if she wrote a single article for at least a year. When she agreed to my terms, I set her free in Hampstead Park, London."

Draco was obviously weighing up whether she was making up a story or telling the truth. He must have opted for the latter, because he let out a muffled exclamation that sent a puff of minty air over Hermione's mouth.

"Merlin... Fuck, Granger, that's..." he said, struggling for words.

"Slytherin-worthy?" she finished with a mischievous grin.

"Yeah, fuck yeah," he breathed, shocked and admiring at the same time. "That's really... Fuck."

He suddenly pulled away from her and ran a hand through his hair, the gesture that showed his nervousness. It reminded her of the Ball, when they'd been yelling at each other and then suddenly they'd come so close that they were inches apart...

She shook her head, forcing herself to push the memory to the back of her mind.

"You won't tell?" she insisted.

"No, of course not, and who would believe me anyway?" asked Draco with a hesitant laugh. "Fucking hell, Granger, that's really..."

She stepped towards him:

"Draco, you're a prefect!" she reminded him in her high-pitched voice that she couldn't control. "Your language!"

"You're the one telling me that?!" he exclaimed, his eyes bulging. "Fucking hell, Granger, you've locked a fucking journalist in a bloody jar!"

"Shh!" she intimated.

She scanned the corridor, but there was no one in the paintings around them.

"I didn't think... I never thought..." Draco confessed, resuming his walk aimlessly, his eyes lost in the void.

"What did you expect?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know! That you'd send her a letter telling her that you'd understood her secret, or at least that you'd revealed it to the Prophet so that they'd stop publishing it... I never imagined that you'd locked her in a fucking jar! You took her to London?!"

Suddenly, he turned to her in horror:

"Don't tell me she was on you when I was there?"

Hermione felt a small flush of warmth at the memory.

"No, of course not." the Gryffindor said with a grimace. "Do you really think I have a collection of insect jars that I keep in my pocket at all times? I'm not Luna Lovegood!"

"Who?" asked Draco, confused.

"No one, never mind."

They took the stairs up to the Astronomy Tower and patrolled around it: from the theory room to the icy platform where they had their midnight classes. Hermione didn't like this place very much, she was afraid of heights and the gusts of wind whipped her so hard that she was always convinced she could go over the edge. Draco, on the other hand, immediately approached the barriers around the platform and looked out over the darkened landscape for a second, before descending the stairs. He still seemed troubled by Hermione's confession, and she couldn't help but feel a small pang of pride at having impressed Draco Malfoy.

They passed Professor Sinistra's office and fell silent by tacit agreement. Once the corridors were empty again, Hermione asked:

"By the way, how did you notice Skeeter was missing?"

He turned his head towards her, a look of disdain on his face.

"How do you think? Who would have noticed the absence of their precious Rita Skeeter?"

Hermione stopped frowning in sudden understanding.

"Of course..." she sighed. "Parkinson, how could I have forgotten..."

"Needless to say, she's completely devastated." Draco added. "No more morning horoscopes... Her own personal hell."

"Well, I'm sorry about that." Hermione said in a falsely sad voice. "I completely forgot about Pansy Parkinson's passion for horoscopes when I stopped the most vile journalist ever from revealing Harry's secrets. How could I?"

"She accepts written apologies." Draco said with a chuckle.

Hermione smiled and turned into the adjoining seventh floor corridor leading to Gryffindors Tower. Draco didn't stop and continued on his way, without passing through the Fat Lady's corridor.

"How did you manage to escape Snape's private lesson tonight?" she asked, not wanting to create another silence.

Draco's smile faded when he heard Snape's name. Hermione felt his eyes suddenly darken, but that was probably due to the play of light from the torches in the corridor.

"It's been adjourned till tomorrow." he said, his voice much more tense than before. "I explained that I had a round to make and that my duties as prefect were more important than Alchemy."

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise at this answer. She had no idea that Draco took his duties as prefect so seriously.

Then he turned his head towards her with a mischievous smile:

"Besides, I didn't want to miss your birthday."

Hermione tried as hard as she could to hide the blush that this sentence brought to her neck, but to no avail.

"To be honest, I thought you'd cancelled." he admitted, pointing to the Gryffindor tower with a rough wave of his hand. "I thought there was a party to celebrate you and that you couldn't get away..."

"Oh no, there's no party..." she stammered.

"Really?" Draco said in surprise. "Don't they have parties over there?"

"No, not really. Ron and Harry were playing chess when I left, so I think they'll be asleep by the time I get back."

He looked at her funny.

"Seriously?" he asked with a touch of contempt. "No one thought to throw you a party?"

"Not during the week!" she said in her sternest voice, but one that made her all fluttery. "Besides, I don't want a birthday party, I don't really celebrate. I blew out the candles to please Ginny, I opened my presents and that's enough."

"I thought Potter and Weasley were going to kidnap you to force you to celebrate." he said, and Hermione realised he was referring to her boozy evening of Butterbeers.

"No, not at all, they're not like that. They know I don't give a toss about this day. But... I have to admit, I like celebrating my birthday with you." she confided shyly.

A smile spread across Draco's cheeks and she couldn't help but imitate it.

"Really?" he asked.

His hand brushed Hermione's as he walked.

"Yes."

"Come with me." he said suddenly, taking her wrist.

The contact electrified her. He was holding her wrist just as he had that night. His fingers were pressed against her arm, his cold skin sending fiery pulses against the thin skin of Hermione's wrist. He led her a little further down the dark corridor.

With his other hand, he took out his wand and placed it on the handle of the nearest door:

"Alohomora."

The lock clicked and opened. Draco led Hermione inside and silently closed the door behind him. Then, he waved his wand and all the torches in the room lit up at once.

Hermione realised they were in the Arithmancy classroom, she could recognise the layout of the desks and the diagrams hanging on the walls.

"Draco, what are you doing?" whispered Hermione. "We're prefects!"

"That's the point, if they find us, all we have to do is say we thought we heard people in the classroom." he replied quietly.

Hermione's mouth twisted at the thought. He really did have a knack for breaking the rules, he was worse than Harry.

Still, she did nothing to get out of class. Curiosity had gripped her.

"Why have you brought me here?" she asked.

He put his wand in his pocket and approached her, a smile on his lips.

"I have a present for you." he said proudly.

She hadn't expected this. At all. She took a step back, surprised.

What?" she asked. Oh, but you shouldn't have..." she began.

"I was sure you were going to say that."

He seemed very amused by her reaction. She must have been flushed.

"I told you, I don't really celebrate my birthday." Hermione said.

"But you've been getting presents all day." Draco objected. "Don't I have the right to give you mine? You gave me sheet music, remember?"

"I didn't give you music to get a present in return!"

"Well, I think that's the way it works." Draco said sarcastically. "You give me a present on my birthday, and I give you one on yours, and so on and so forth..."

"I know how birthdays work!" sighed Hermione in annoyance.

"Perfect, then let me give you my present." he said with a small satisfied smile.

She knew he'd had the last word and almost stomped on the floor in indignation. But Draco pulled a parcel out of his cloak pocket and all their conversation faded to make way for curiosity.

The wrapping paper was white, with floral patterns waving across the paper. Hermione found the gift so beautiful that she automatically closed her mouth, unable to reply.

"Happy birthday again, Hermione." Draco murmured with a smile.

Ignoring her heart, which skipped a beat when she heard him say her first name, she looked up at him, her eyes already soaked with tears:

"Oh, Draco..."

"You have to open it." he said, still as sarcastic as ever.

She blew out her nose, half laughing, half sighing, and carefully unwrapped the paper. The thought of Draco wrapping a gift for her was as strange as it was pleasant. Her fingers trembled a little as she removed the white paper.

She had expected it to be a book, so when she saw a black box with no markings on it, she frowned. She looked up at Draco who was watching her with a grin on his face.

Hermione opened the box to find a device she had never seen before: it was a small, square, black machine, about the size of her hand, with a large black circle in the centre. Inside the black box was also a large, bright white sphere.

There was a pause as Hermione analysed the device, racking her brains to understand what Draco had just offered her.

"Do you know what that is?" he asked.

"No." Hermione admitted awkwardly.

"It's probably the first time I've ever heard you say that." Draco said with a chuckle. "This... is a camera."

Hermione frowned even more as she looked at the small machine at the bottom of the box.

"Cameras don't work at Hogwarts." she immediately denied.

"Muggle cameras, maybe." he conceded. "This... Is a wizarding camera."

Hermione lifted her head sharply to look at him. She then saw something she had never seen before: Draco was blushing.

Obviously, her lack of reaction had disturbed him. He had lost his smile and was watching her apprehensively, his cheeks slightly pink with stress. Hermione had seen all sorts of moods in Draco over the last few years. She had spent a long time with Malfoy, before coming across Draco, mysterious, teasing, sarcastic, sometimes angry, sometimes cold, often competitive, then, jealous Draco, caring Draco, kind Draco...

In any case, Draco had always been confident, no matter what his mood. He had always been brimming with that confidence, sometimes even bordering on arrogance. For the first time since she had known him, Hermione was confronted with a new version of Draco: Shy Draco.

And she had to admit that she particularly liked seeing him blush. It proved how much he'd opened up to her, made himself vulnerable to please her.

"You bought me... a wizard camera?" she asked in a low voice.

"Yes, I thought..." he began, stammering slightly. She had never heard Draco stumble over a word before. "Last time you told me you couldn't show your parents Hogwarts because Muggle devices don't work here. So I thought... It might be nice to... Maybe if you could show them your life from here, they'd understand better, and the barrier between you might come down."

He paused to run a hand through his hair. She stared at his lips, listening to the rest of his explanation:

"You seemed really sad about this split with your parents, you mentioned it several times in your letters, and I know it's something that hurts you a lot, so... I don't know, I thought it would make you happy to share moments of your life with them."

Hermione was taken aback. Not only was it a very nice, original gift, it was also extremely personal. Draco had listened to her and thought of her in a way she had never thought possible.

She was so overwhelmed with emotion that she couldn't express her gratitude. Draco, on the verge of nervousness, stepped back slightly:

"Sorry, I really thought you would like it..."

"Draco, it's..."

She looked at the box and felt tears welling up as she thought of all the symbolism behind the gift. She lifted her head and looked into his stormy eyes.

"I can't tell you how touched I am by your gift. It's... It's... It's a bloody great gift." she blurted out frankly.

His eyes widened as he heard her say that word.

"Language, Granger."

In response, she threw herself into his arms.

She hadn't planned to hug him, but Hermione realised at that moment that she really needed to. She put both arms around his neck and he immediately responded to her embrace by wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. Her chest compressed, Hermione let out a small sigh that mingled with Draco's, a breath of relief that she felt in her hair.

"Merlin, I'm so relieved, I thought you took it badly..." he whispered.

"How could I have taken it badly?" she asked truthfully. "It's one of the best presents I've ever been given. Thank you, Draco. I'll finally be able to show them the part of my life they find so hard to understand, and my friends, and Hogwarts..."

The tears now ran freely down her cheeks. Draco tightened his grip even more, and Hermione inhaled the minty scent that emanated from him all the time, and that she had the impression she could smell on the tip of her tongue every time he spoke to her.

They embraced for several minutes, and Hermione hoped that all the gratitude she felt for having received such a thoughtful gift came through this contact. She felt as if their hearts were beating in unison.

She finally broke away and before she could wipe away her tears, he brought his hand to her face and ran his thumb gently over her cheeks. His icy fingers felt divine against Hermione's fevered skin.

"Thank you, Draco. It's a lovely gift." she said honestly.

"Would you like to try it?" he asked.

Hermione nodded and put the box down to carefully remove the device. It was a little larger than the Muggle cameras and a little heavier. She held it to her eye and looked around the classroom through the slightly rounded lens.

" You need to take this and place it next to your face, to the right." Draco instructed, handing her the large white sphere. "This is to capture the image and make it move."

Hermione followed his instructions. She took the sphere and placed it in front of her face.

"What are you going to take a picture of?" asked Draco, looking at the Arithmancy diagrams around him.

"You, of course." she said without hesitation.

He turned to face her and Hermione could see his frown through the camera.

"Are you sure...?"

"I'll hide it." she promised.

"I hate pictures." Draco said.

"And yet you took one with Parkinson, at the Yule Ball."

She'd said it as an observation, but only realised what her sentence implied a second after she'd said it. Draco rounded his eyes:

"Were you watching me?"

She didn't answer, because he was right. She had been watching him. In fact, now that she thought about it, she had been watching him a lot more than she should have.

"Even when we weren't talking?" he asked with a pleased smile. "You were watching me at the Ball?"

"I..." Hermione began.

"Oh, I don't blame you." he said. "I was watching you too. Merlin, you were the most beautiful girl there."

He'd regained his overflowing confidence, because he'd said it in a detached tone, as if it were a statement of the obvious rather than a compliment. Hermione blushed and stammered a shy "thank you", and held the camera to her eye so he wouldn't see her blush:

"Go on, strike a pose!"

He rolled his eyes in mock excitement, but agreed anyway. He crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his lip in his signature smile. With his blond hair falling over his forehead and his deep blue eyes, he was extremely handsome.

Hermione pressed the button and the flash burst from the orb with a little puff of purple smoke. The picture instantly came out of the camera slot. As Hermione took it in her hands, she was delighted to see that Draco's face had been captured perfectly: from his features carved in marble, to the ocean blue of his eyes. She could see his smile forming on the moving photograph.

"It's perfect! Oh, I'm going to be able to take so many pictures!" exclaimed Hermione, thinking of all the things she had been dying to show her parents since she had arrived at Hogwarts. "Do you think Madam Pince would let me take pictures of the Library?"

Draco laughed slightly at such a question.

"I don't think she would deny her favourite pupil anything."

Hermione almost jumped with joy.

"You've got forty rolls in there, but I've bought you three more packs so you don't run out." he explained. "If you do run out, you can always buy more from Blue Retinae in Diagon Alley, that's where I bought them."

"It must have cost you a lot of money..." Hermione realised as she weighed the device. It was strangely light.

Draco dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand and consulted his watch:

"I'll take you back." he announced.

"What? But what about rounds?"

"Rounds are over, Granger. It's almost midnight."

Hermione hiccupped in surprise. Time always flew by when she was with Draco, she never saw the hours go by. She nodded and they left the Arithmancy class in silence as he closed the door behind them.

The Gryffindor Common Room really wasn't far: they walked barely five minutes and found themselves at the bottom of the tower. The Fat Lady was at the end of the corridor. Hermione could hear her snoring echoing off the stone walls.

"Happy birthday again, Granger." he said, turning to her.

"Thank you Draco, and thank you for this gift, it really is perfect." she said, showing him the box.

He shrugged. On impulse, she stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. He stiffened as he felt her lips against his skin.

"Good night, Draco."

"Good night, Hermione."

He turned and headed back up the stairs as she walked down the corridor. She hid the camera box as best she could under her jumper, then coughed heavily at the painting. But the Fat Lady was fast asleep.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia!" Hermione said loudly.

The woman woke with a start and opened one eye, which she lowered at Hermione with an annoyed look.

"And where have you been?" she asked imperiously.

"Making my rounds as prefect." Hermione replied.

"Then why are you all red?" the Fat Lady asked as she straightened up to look at her more closely.

"The stairs made me breathless!" Hermione lied in a small, wispy voice.

"Did it?" said the Fat Lady, who didn't seem to believe it at all. "I'd rather say you're in love, miss."

Hermione let out a scandalised exclamation. She glanced behind her to check that Draco had left, then turned back to the painting in outrage:

"Absolutely not!" she squealed.

"Oh, be serious." said the Fat Lady, her painted features pulling together in a knowing smile. "It's been over a hundred years since I was hung here, I've been around teenagers for a century, and I know the blush of love when I see it."

"Well, you're wrong, I'm just out of breath!" protested Hermione indignantly. "Now let me pass!"

The Fat Lady did not insist, but her smile remained. The board opened and Hermione stepped inside, whistling as disdainfully as she could.

The Common Room was empty. Ron and Harry hadn't waited for her after all. Hermione didn't mind the change and was able to stretch out on her favourite sofa, her mind on fire. She took the black box out from under her jumper and looked at it for a long time, her thoughts a little elsewhere.

She was thinking about Draco.

His attitude these past few months. The way he'd changed. His beliefs about Muggles had changed so much that it was confusing. She thought of the way she looked at him all the time. The habit she had developed of looking for him in the crowd whenever she could. The desire to see him, to talk to him, to laugh with him. She thought of her desire to be close to him, to feel him against her, to breathe in that addictive scent that defined him so well.

She thought of Ginny, who had asked her a few days earlier if she was in love with Malfoy. She had answered with an automatic, definitive no.

Hermione realised then that she had just lied to the Fat Lady.

And she had lied to Ginny.

Because Hermione was definitely in love with Draco Malfoy.