Hermione closed the door behind her and stepped far enough into the room that even with the dim light that was burning by the bedside, Draco could see her. When he realized it wasn't Harry who'd invaded, his manner became dramatically less vitriolic, if still ungracious. He sat up so that his back was against the headboard and he could see her clearly. "What are you doing here?"
"I've come to see why you're being such a complete and utter prat to Harry, of course," she answered, sitting down even when he didn't invite her to do so.
He actually looked down at the bed and plucked restlessly at the cover. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He'd not delivered this lie smoothly or believably, and she thought it was a pretty poor showing for the Slytherin Ice Prince.
"Since the rather deplorable showing of manners upon my entrance was directed at Harry, I find that rather difficult to believe," she said dryly. "You're not being very kind to him."
"What business is that of yours?" he demanded shortly, and then his lips twisted into a sneer. "Oh, I forgot: you're here to make sure your boyfriend's feelings aren't hurt."
"Did you take a Stupidity Potion?" she asked scornfully, narrowly managing not to ask if he'd been knocked up the side of the head one too many times by the Death Eaters, but she was pretty sure that fell under the category of unnecessarily cruel under the circumstances. "I thought you'd grasped the salient points about the two of us being Pure Adults."
"I grasped that you aren't having sex," Draco snarled, clearly unimpressed that she was treating him as though he were stupid. "That does not mean that you aren't dating."
She frowned at him. "I'm going to hope that's jealousy or some other mind-altering emotion talking because that's still awfully stupid."
He looked instantly defensive. "What would I have to be jealous about?"
"I honestly don't know," she said, exasperated. "But if Harry and I were actually a couple, why wouldn't we be having sex? We've had years of opportunity to have it if we wanted it, and if for some bizarre reason we managed to hold off until we were both seventeen, do you really think we wouldn't have leapt at one another the moment this whole Pure Adult mess came to light? We could have avoided it all if neither of us were virgins anymore, but we didn't. Because we don't care for one another that way, get it?" she said sternly.
He was looking at her with wide grey eyes. "You really don't care for one another."
She wondered where all his sarcasm had gone.
She shook her head. "We're friends. Best friends. We live together right now and spend what might be an inordinate amount of time together, but we are most definitely not kissing or canoodling or whatever it is that real couples do."
He snorted. "You're not sure?"
Her look was mocking, although she was not sure if it was directed at him or herself. "How many couples do you think I've been part of?"
"You and Krum—" he began.
"Friends!" she interrupted sharply. "You sound exactly like Ron with that notion."
Draco made a moue of distaste and immediately abandoned the idea.
"So you and all the blokes you know are on friendly terms only, then?" he clarified.
She nodded, unsure how this had got to be about her love life rather than his. Sneaky Slytherin. "None of the boys my age seem to have the, er, maturity I require of a life partner."
He cocked his head at her. "But you are interested in someone? Someone older than you?"
She snorted. "You and Harry are both like dogs with bones. Yes, I'm interested in someone, and no, he's not interested in me, making it quite easy not to have sex."
He laughed softly. "Granger, you're the strangest woman I know."
She smiled. "I'm touched that you think so. Now, explain to me why we can have a civil conversation yet you feel compelled to scream Harry out of the room."
He attempted expressionless, but he was still off-kilter. He was upset, she thought, and uncomfortable.
"I … don't like Potter, that's all."
She shook her head. "Did you lose your ability to lie out in the Forest? That was absolutely pitiful, Malfoy. You called him Harry then, and when you found out he was there, you panicked completely." He opened his mouth, and she added severely, "If you even try to tell me it was because you were suddenly more worried about your own safety when he was in the vicinity, Poppy is going to have a bunch of extra wounds to heal on you come morning." He closed his mouth with an audible snap. "You were worried about him, and that means that you do care for him."
He looked mutinous and stubborn now. She sighed and shifted her chair closer to the bed.
"If you can give me a good reason, I won't push this, but you must realize that I only want what's best for Harry."
His expression turned bleak. "What's best for him is to stay away from me."
She regarded him contemplatively for a long moment. "How much of what he said while you were riding Ashwin did you hear?"
"I was drifting in and out of consciousness." He smiled faintly, apparently lost in the memory, sounding pleased as he said, "He likes my hair."
She smiled involuntarily but watched as Draco's face hardened again.
"He's not going to get the opportunity to touch it again, so it would be better for him to forget the idea." The Slytherin scowled. "If he was looking to rebel with a bad boy, I've recently not come to fit the bill."
She remained unconvinced by his weak-sounding arguments, so she tried again. "You guessed straight off and seem to have no difficulty with the concept of my being interesting in someone quite exclusively; why can't Harry feel the same?"
He stared at her. "That's nonsensical."
"I don't see why you should think so," she said, rather amused by this abrupt and illogical claim. "Why shouldn't Harry be interested now in the same person he's been interested in for quite some time?"
"There's no reason for Harry to be interested in me," he said defensively.
She smiled faintly. "I didn't say I understood his choice." She was delighted in the consternation that flitted across his features before he could school it away. "But I'm quite certain he's made it. And your reaction, while not exactly what I might wish, shows that you're not indifferent to him."
"I might as well be," Draco said stiffly.
"Okay," she said. "Let's say you are indifferent."
He blinked in surprise.
She smiled cheerfully at him. "Now let's ask ourselves what would happen if an indifferent Slytherin were offered the chance to sleep with a Pure Adult. What do you think this Slytherin would do?"
He didn't answer.
"Do you think he would do everything in his power to drive the Pure Adult away and convince him that he had no interest in him? Or do you think that he would do his very best to secure the Pure Adult's interest and the power that went with it?"
Draco was starting to look slightly hunted which told Hermione that he didn't know how to get out of the hole he had dug himself into.
She looked him straight in the eye and spoke very firmly: "You're doing your very best to drive him away, and since it's clearly going against your inclination and your desire for power, I'm hoping it's a spectacularly good reason and that this isn't just some sort of mind game. You don't want to hurt him, do you?"
Minutely, he shook his head.
"You're trying to protect him…." She was fishing.
A slight nod.
This was not going particularly quickly. "You're going to have to help me out here, Malfoy, because I'm at a bit of a loss as to what you're protecting him from. If you'd been there to see how depressed he was every time he came back from the hospital wing, I think you'd agree that he's not exactly weathering this unscathed." Draco looked unhappy. "What's going on?"
"You won't tell him?"
"Not without your express permission," she agreed, wondering what she was getting herself into. Another secret: just what she needed.
Draco remained silent for so long that she thought he'd changed his mind. When he suddenly spoke, the words were clipped. "When I was tortured, Greyback was there. He bit me."
She blinked at him. "He can't have been transformed yet." Not if she correctly understood the timeline of Voldemort's absurd plan.
"No," Draco agreed. "But it was so close to the full, a margin of a half hour, maybe—they wanted me to be freshly bleeding and injured—and he doesn't seem to need to transform to be entirely werewolf-ish." Draco's eyes were glittering as he stared at her. "I looked into his eyes. He wasn't human. I'm going to turn into a werewolf at the next full moon, I know I am."
She just stared at him for a minute. "And?"
"And?" he hissed explosively, sitting up completely so that he could yell at her properly. "There isn't an 'and', Granger. I'm going to turn into a werewolf. I am a werewolf. Why do you think Poppy has me in here observing me? We're still waiting for the wound to heal. It's resistant, just like werewolf bites always are. She's breaking the law not reporting it to the Ministry. I'm not human anymore!"
She frowned at him. "I hate to break this to you and your pure-blood nonsense, but that's complete and utter rot. You're still human, Malfoy. You're as human as I am."
"Of course I'm not," he said impatiently. "I'm a werewolf."
"I'm a Pure Adult," she countered. "Just like you and the other werewolves, Harry and I are different. Set apart. Unlike normal humans. Does that make me less than human?" she repeated.
He frowned, leaning back against the headboard again, needing to think for a moment before he could argue, "It's completely different. You're not going to turn into a monster once a month for the rest of your life."
"I still don't agree with you, but if I were?" she prompted. "Do you think Harry would abandon me?"
His frown deepened, this idea obviously not meshing with what he knew of the Gryffindor hero. "But it's different with me," he finally complained. "Harry deserves someone better than a … a killer. That's what I'll be, you know."
She shook her head, wondering where logic went when Draco Malfoy was upset. Probably the same place it went when she was upset, but since she was currently quite calm, she was easily able to counter him.
"To the best of my knowledge, you haven't killed anyone to date."
He shook his head, confirming that fact.
"Even if you became a werewolf, there's nothing to say you'd suddenly start. You have heard of Wolfsbane, haven't you?"
His look was scathing, but what he said was, "It only works if you take it before every full moon. Accidents happen."
"Yes, they do," she agreed, thinking of third year. "But that still doesn't mean that you're necessarily going to kill anyone. Accidents happen when you're human, too. Besides, we'd all know that you weren't doing it because you wanted to, and you're still underestimating Harry if you think that would stop him from caring about you."
Draco crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her belligerently. "I'm not going to make him suffer because of me."
She shook her head, still sort of amazed that they were having this conversation and wondering rather irreverently if the Hat had ever considered putting Draco in Gryffindor. But then she remembered how quickly it had chosen Slytherin. Really, it just went to show that the House system was daft; she knew full well that there were Gryffindors who wouldn't be trying to protect Harry like this if they were in the same situation.
She thought Draco's position was stupidly reasoned, but it was still one of the least selfish things she had ever seen Draco Malfoy attempt to do.
She wondered if Draco thought that he owed her because of the rescue and if that was the reason that they were actually able to talk about this.
"One of the closest people Harry has to proper family right now is Remus Lupin," she explained carefully. "Harry loves Remus without difficulty, and his being a werewolf has never been the slightest impediment to that. I'm sure it would be the same with you; it wouldn't matter to Harry."
"It matters to me!" Draco snarled. "I can't let myself care for him when I know I'm a werewolf."
She sighed. "But you do care for him? If it weren't for the werewolf bit, you wouldn't be acting such a prat?"
He nodded agreement on both counts, not even arguing about being called a prat.
Sitting up straight, she stared directly into his stormy grey eyes and spoke very seriously. "Draco Malfoy, I'm going to tell you a secret known to only one other person beside myself. And it isn't Harry."
He looked surprised and doubtful. "Are you sure you should trust me with it?"
"Are you not trustworthy?" she asked mildly.
"I am, but I might not be," he pointed out as though she might honestly not have considered this. "How do you know this isn't some big Dark Lord plot?"
She tilted her head, observing him carefully. He seemed to be asking the question genuinely, so she offered him an honest answer.
"It could be. I don't believe that to be the case, however. In the end, my trust is mine to offer for my own reasons, and I have chosen to trust you. I would have to deal with the repercussions in the event that you turned out to be evil, but I know which way I'm betting." She smiled at him.
He still looked perturbed.
"You trusted me to change your hair back to blond, didn't you?"
He looked as though he'd forgotten about that incident. He rolled his eyes. "Sure, but you're Hermione Granger, and even if you had screwed me over, it would have faded eventually or I might have worked out how to fix it on my own."
"Or I might have changed it red and gold for a month and made sure you couldn't dye it back. You made the decision to trust me and live with the consequences; it might be on a larger scale, but that's exactly what I'm doing now."
He let out a huff of breath. "Fine. If you're certain, reveal your giant secret."
"I'm growing a hybrid in Herbology, a Weresbane." His look expressed his incomprehension, and she continued reluctantly, finding that it took a bit of a push to get the long-suppressed words out, "In twelve days, I'm going to find out if it's as successful as I hope it will be in curing lycanthropy."
He simply stared at her, at a complete loss for words.
"Are you an Animagus?" she asked.
He nodded blankly.
"How would you feel if your animal were to change?"
"They don't do that," he managed.
"Hypothetically."
He shrugged, cheeks tingeing suddenly pink before he added with obvious reluctance, "I'm a ferret."
She ruthlessly bit the inside of her cheek and didn't give into the gales of laughter that she could feel were trying to bubble up and escape out her mouth.
"You need to hone your meditation technique, I think," she answered with praiseworthy composure. "Turning into another animal would be desirable, even?"
"Hypothetically," he stressed. "But what does that have to do with anything?"
"It's part of my cure. To suppress the Were and support the wolf."
He listened intently as she explained the process. She was pleased to see that there was a light gleaming in his eyes that had been absent for several days now. He seemed hopeful.
"You know, if this works, not even the Slytherins are going to be able to deny that you're brilliant."
She was touched by the compliment but cautioned: "I can't guarantee that it'll work; I've told Remus the same. I've been working with him extensively. I checked him for allergies to the new plant, and he's been prepping for a long time."
Draco said flatly, "You have a cure. I'll try it."
She felt the eerie certainty that Draco wouldn't last very long as a werewolf. Remus was the best example of someone who had persevered despite the illness, but she supposed it was a lot for Draco to even contemplate overcoming given his upbringing and the beliefs he had been raised with about non-pure-blood wizards.
"If you're certain." She waited for his nod. "I'll speak to Poppy in the morning."
He looked quizzical.
"She knows you might be infected, so she's keeping you under observation; since you might be a werewolf, she has to know that you won't be a danger to yourself or anyone else come the next full moon. Assuming you don't want her to go to the headmaster," Hermione pointed out the other option, and Draco shook his head hurriedly, "then she'll need to know that you've been released to my care."
He frowned. "I thought you said no one else knew about the cure."
"No one else does."
"Then what are you going to tell Poppy?"
"That I'm going to be brewing your Wolfsbane, of course."
He blinked at her. "She won't question that?"
"Given that I brew Remus's, it's unlikely."
He came close to goggling at her. "You brew Professor Lupin's Wolfsbane?"
She nodded, amused by his incredulity. After a moment, he managed to get his eyeballs back into his head and come up with a coherent sentence.
"I'm sorry, that was stupid. I remember Severus saying how difficult it was, but if you're attempting a cure, of course you're familiar with the original. I thought he brewed it for Lupin?"
"He has a number of calls upon his time," she said, not trusting herself to anything else. "I do it now."
He looked as though he wanted to speak but wasn't sure if he should.
"Out with it," she admonished.
Draco cleared his throat. "After third year, he told me he wouldn't trust anybody else to brew it or give it to Lupin."
Hermione was more affected by this than she wanted Draco to know, so she brushed it off as best she could. "I'm a pretty anal person. I'm sure he knew I'd get it right and make sure Remus took it. It cuts down on the time the two of them have to glare at one another."
Draco hummed a noncommittal agreement, and she changed the subject.
"Harry doesn't know about the potential cure because I don't want him to get his hopes up unnecessarily. If it's a dud, I'm burning my research and never speaking about it again."
He smiled, the expression refreshingly genuine. "You'd do no such thing. You'd go through it with a fine-toothed comb and work out version number two."
"You're just rolling out the compliments today, aren't you?" she said with a raised eyebrow.
"It might have escaped your notice, but I'm actually quite a charming person." This was said quite haughtily but with an edge of humour that made it tolerable.
If she were being honest, she didn't suppose that anything he'd said in this meeting could beat the presumption that she had brought to it, but since it was with a noble goal in mind, she had gone ahead and done it.
The fact that Albus probably felt he was doing the same thing all the time was a little unsettling, but there it was.
"You've tended to hide your charm quite well when dealing with Gryffindors," she said dryly.
"I've been doing my best to improve upon that impression," he pointed out.
"And other than one spectacular exception recently, Harry and I have noticed," she said mildly.
He made a face. "I am sorry about that." She hadn't actually expected to hear a real apology on that front, and the fact that it wasn't in front of Harry or anyone but her went a long way to assure her that he really meant it. "I knew how well you shielded from class, and I'd been instructed to prove myself to the Dark Lord. Failure was not a terribly attractive option."
"I can see why that would be the case."
He shook his head. "I hadn't quite anticipated how horribly wrong it would go, though. My 'spectacular success' right under the headmaster's watchful eye made a big impression on the Dark Lord; he decided that now was the time for me to become his number one goon." His eyes were clouded, his expression dark. "The moment I cast, I knew I didn't want to be doing it for the rest of my life. Seeing you collapse like that, knowing that I was the one causing you such pain—"
He swallowed heavily and confessed very quietly, "It didn't become real before then. Hexing people in the corridors, fighting with Harry like I did up until fifth year, that was kid's stuff. Even when Dumbledore's bloody Army got me on the train in fifth year, they were essentially harmless spells. You weren't trying to mortally wound me or torture me into insanity. The Cruciatus … that's all it does. That's its sole purpose, and the Dark Lord uses it indiscriminately and without mercy. I … didn't want to become the person I could be if I kept using it."
"That shows an enormous strength of character, you know. Rather than deciding it was too late or too difficult, you decided to correct your mistake even if it was at the price of your life."
Regarding her through eyes that betrayed his confusion, he said, "I'm still not sure how either of you can possibly forgive me."
She shrugged. "As I said before, I understand why you did it. You didn't hold me under it for an unbearable amount of time, and you weren't doing it because you wanted to hurt me. Harry wasn't too happy about it, to be frank." Draco's face fell. "But I did my best to convince him that if I forgave you, he was perfectly within his rights to do the same. I think it mostly worked."
"You're a much better person than I am." This assessment was offered without inflection.
She shrugged. "I am who I am; you are who you are. People make mistakes, and people recover from them; I assume that you aren't about to continue to indiscriminately curse people with Unforgivables in the corridor?"
"First and last, I swear," he said solemnly.
"Then that's all there is to it. You were tempted once upon a time but practical demonstration revealed it didn't work for you. You made a hard choice that many people don't have to go through, and now here you are."
He huffed a breath that was almost laughter, and she thought that perhaps her explanation had been a little too brief for him.
"Thank you. Again." He sounded very sincere. "I could be languishing in prison or completely dead, and you've saved me both times."
She offered another shrug. "I guess Harry's not the only Gryffindor with a hero complex. Now, to business: neither of us will speak of the potential cure."
He nodded.
"I won't tell Harry about your lycanthropy, and you will allow him to get close to you."
Draco opened his mouth, no doubt to protest, and she hurried on.
"I'm not saying that you have to confess your undying love for him or let him do the same towards you." It might be nice if they'd get that out of the way, but she knew it wasn't likely. "There's to be none of this driving him away virtually at wandpoint. You're going to let him care about you even if you don't let anything physical occur before the eleventh of February. I want things in motion, all right?"
"And if I refuse?" This was said more amusedly than anything else, and she didn't think he was really serious.
"Then I'll have to resort to plan B," she said brightly, "which involves accidentally dosing your pumpkin juice with a Love Potion some morning."
He laughed. "In the interest of avoiding such an ignominious fate, I accept your terms."
Making her, she was pretty sure, manipulator-in-training if anything happened to Albus. But she was doing this for Harry and Draco, not to win a war.
She reminded him of the first dosing with the Weresbane at the end of January.
"You'll be able to get along adequately with Remus for this to be successful?" she asked with more than a little censure in her tone.
He grimaced. "I realize what I said before didn't lend itself to an impression of tolerance. I was actually rather fond of Professor Lupin; I insulted him because it was expected of me. Although," he added, frowning slightly in memory, "I maintain that his clothing left something to be desired."
She snorted. They both knew why he had been forced to dress as he had; it wasn't really funny, but she couldn't help but be amused by how much the Malfoy heir was offended by lack of proper dress. She wondered for a moment how he could possible care for Harry. Of course, if he liked the Gryffindor in spite of his appalling fashion sense, that was probably a good sign.
"I admit that I find it a bit difficult to think of him exactly the same way now that I know that he's a werewolf." The thunderous look on her face was quite apparent because he continued hurriedly, "But I'm working on it, and Merlin knows I don't have any reason to be rude to him at this point. I'm in his situation exactly, and if that doesn't teach me manners, nothing will."
She nodded, accepting this for now. She'd have to see how he treated Remus when they were actually in the same room together, but it seemed as though Draco was trying. It couldn't be easy to overcome a lifetime of prejudice.
"So you're going to play nice when you see Harry next?" she confirmed pointedly.
He laughed softly. "Yes, I'll be on my best behaviour. You still haven't explained what he could possibly see in me."
She shook her head. "I have no idea, remember? I think he's completely insane."
"Which is why you're here convincing me to give him a chance," he pointed out dryly.
"Oops," she said unrepentantly.
He smiled a full-fledged, brilliant smile that had none of the usual haughtiness in it. "Thank you, Granger."
"Hermione, if you think you can manage it," she corrected. "I suspect we're about to begin seeing a lot of one another."
"Only if you call me Draco," he returned.
She smiled, taken a bit by surprise. She'd known he was making an effort, but this was another milestone; it was going to be a reminder of what he had decided every time they were together.
"Draco," she responded. "I'm glad we've had this little chat. Did Albus say when you'd be returning to the land of the living?"
"In the morning, actually. He says he'd prefer not to wait until Monday; the only class I have tomorrow is Defence, and he reasons that I'll be safest there. He's spoken to Professor Tonks, and she's agreed to keep an eye on me."
"It's the cousinly thing to do, I'm sure."
He smiled. "I still find it a bit hard to believe that we're related."
Her own lips tipped up. "You can't see the Black family charm?"
"I try to compare her to Mum, and it doesn't work so well, that's all." He added wryly, "It's probably all to the good if she fell far away from that tree."
"I think it's Bellatrix who was the rotten apple," Hermione argued. "I'm sure your mother can be perfectly lovely."
He snorted. "You've just to witness it yourself. You're too generous."
She shrugged. As if she didn't know better than to insult people's mothers indiscriminately. "I've got to keep the optimism up when I'm surrounded by pessimists and Slytherins who like to think the worst of everyone. I think the world will be a very sad place if there's no trust or understanding fostered between people. That's how beliefs like Voldemort's grow as we separate ourselves from whole segments of society and hold ourselves up as ideal. I try to get along with all sorts and be tolerant of many. Then I know that I can't ever wind up like him."
"You never could, I promise," he said. It should have been flippant, but it was said with the certainty of having just stared into the mouth of that bit of insanity, and she appreciated his wholehearted denunciation.
"Thank you, Draco." She cast about for a more innocuous topic. "Are you looking forward to getting out of here?"
He shrugged. "The place is a little wearing on the nerves, I confess, but I'm not precisely anxious to get back into the madhouse that will be my life once everybody knows I'm alive. I'll have lots of enemies and very few friends."
"You've got me and Harry," she reassured him. "And Parkinson."
He blinked at her. "I wasn't aware that you and Pansy were on those sorts of speaking terms."
"She was the one who came to us about your disappearance. Harry and I took her to Albus, and that's why he went to the Manor. She was really worried."
He looked slightly shocked as he confessed, "We've always been friends, but I didn't think she'd have the poor sense to put herself out like that."
Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"If others find out that she's genuinely worried about me, she could get into serious trouble."
"That means she cares." More about Draco than about herself, and Hermione had experience with that sort of emotion. "She's not stupid; she came to us because you missed your rounds, and if she wishes, I could certainly have compelled the Prefects to report any neglecting of duties to me personally."
He smiled faintly. "I won't be able to see her very much, but it's a relief to know that there are at least two Slytherins I can speak to from time to time."
"Try being Harry," she suggested. "The scarcity of people who care for just Harry as opposed to the Boy Who Lived is a bit alarming. I'm sure the two of you can trade stories."
He snorted. "You're determined to get us together, aren't you?"
"I have a great many determinations," she responded. "If the two of you genuinely care for one another, then yes, I'm going to do everything in my power to ensure that nothing stands in your way."
"And how is Harry going to feel about that?" he quizzed.
"About the fact that I've just told you all of this?" She grinned. "Oh, he's likely to be mad as anything. But as long as you kiss and make up at some point, I suspect he'll forgive me."
Draco shook his head and tsked. "Risking your friendship on some nebulous future event that may or may not occur—really, Hermione, that's quite ill thought-out of you."
She smiled. "I'll trust to it. I think that the two of you will make a very pleasing couple—and I'm sure we'll sort out at some point just how and why he supposedly went from me to you."
He thankfully swallowed the first comment that she could see was on the tip of his tongue, correcting himself to, "We'll just have to make sure you get together with your love interest by then, and that will leave Harry free to make a shocking rebound."
She smiled in bemusement. "That's certainly one plan."
"And if you tell me who you're interested in, I'll make sure that it happens."
She snorted with laughter. "Nice try. Clumsy and Gryffindor-ish, but otherwise well executed."
"Hermione," he pointed out pedantically, "I'm a Slytherin and you're a Gryffindor. It's my House that you're supposed to be insulting, not your own."
"It must be getting late," she answered with a smirk, rising from her chair. "I'll be fine, though."
"Pure Adults don't need sleep?" he asked with some surprise.
"You'd find Harry curling up and sleeping here in this room if you let him," she said with a shake of her head. "As for me, that's another story for another day."
"Does anybody know how many secrets you have?" he asked.
"Probably not," she admitted, thinking that, offhand, she didn't even know an actual number. "But I'll let you get some sleep if you're supposed to be up in the morning. I'll walk you to breakfast, all right?"
She saw the struggle between his desire to spurn assistance and his recognition that he really might need it. He offered her a curt nod.
"Goodnight, Draco," she said softly.
His voice was so quiet that she almost didn't hear it before she opened the door. "Goodnight, Hermione."
She returned to her quarters so that she could get a few hours of sleep before making her way back to the hospital wing at an early but decent hour in order to speak with Poppy. Hermione had told Harry that she needed to disappear for a few minutes but would expect him to conduct her to breakfast. He'd been confused but agreeable.
Hermione drew the mediwitch aside before she could go in to see if Draco was awake and threw up some privacy charms. Poppy looked curious.
"I just wanted to let you know that you don't need to worry about Draco's condition. I've agreed to take care of him just as I do Remus."
Poppy looked both shocked and relieved.
"I must say, Hermione, that's quite a relief to hear, but I'm surprised that he spoke to you about the subject. He's been extremely reticent."
Hermione, having been on the receiving end of that reticence, quite understood.
"I can be very persuasive," she said blithely. "I'll ensure that he's dosed and protected on the tenth of February."
The mediwitch seemed ever further reassured since Hermione knew offhand when the next full moon was.
"Thank you," the matron said with a smile. "You'll advise me if there are any problems?"
"Of course. Remus will be willing to stay with him, I'm sure. I would never let him or the school be endangered."
Poppy smiled. "I know you wouldn't, dear."
Although Hermione wasn't altogether certain that she was wanted, she wasn't going to let Draco spend the morning worrying about what his reception by the rest of the school was going to be like, so once they had ascertained that he was awake, she simply installed herself in his room.
"Have I acquired a keeper?" he asked.
"Better to call me an enthusiastic friend," she recommended cheerfully.
He looked a mixture of amused and resigned, especially once he found her still patiently sitting there after he showered and dressed in the bathroom.
She summoned Harry once she and Draco had left the hospital wing. Harry looked a bit surprised to find her and Draco walking companionably side by side when he joined them, but he didn't question either of them, obviously pleased when there was no immediate yelling.
They reached the Great Hall as the food was being served and sat down quite nonchalantly with the Slytherin in their midst, so much so that no one noticed straightaway. Pansy managed to knock her pumpkin juice all over Nott's lap when she looked up and saw Draco sitting there with them, and the exclamation that resulted was enough to garner everyone's attention.
For a long moment, there was complete silence, and then a murmur of sound picked up and raced round the room as people seemed to be confirming that they were seeing correctly. There were a lot of dark looks and a lot of stunned looks (and some combinations of both) at the Slytherin table. Hermione didn't have a whole lot of sympathy for those who had been banking on the blond's death.
She hoped that some of the stunned looks were from those who counted Draco amongst their actual friends. It saddened her to think that he didn't seem to be certain about any of them, knowing about Pansy only because Hermione had relayed the other woman's behaviour to him. She had thought that Slytherins stuck together, but maybe that was more to the outside world than within their House. If most of their relationships were politically motivated, to her way of thinking, that was a sad way to live.
To be fair to the Slytherins, however, they were balancing between being hated by everyone else and being desired by Lord Voldemort; it was bound to make for some sticky political situations. Not knowing anyone's true loyalties, it would be hard to form lasting friendships. If Draco had convinced not only those in the rest of Hogwarts but also those within his House that he was going to become a devoted Death Eater, he would likely feel with good reason that he needed to cross all his previous friends off his list of acquaintances.
She wondered if her words about trust would help or hinder in this situation; she didn't want to put him in more danger, but she also didn't want him to be stuck with only Gryffindors for company. They'd probably drive him bonkers.
Ginny, sitting on Hermione's left, leaned closer.
"Psst," she said. "Have you noticed that Malfoy is sitting between the two of you?"
Hermione turned on her with a look of completely feigned shock, noticing with amusement that almost the whole length of the table was carefully listening in, not even pretending to eat.
"No!" she exclaimed theatrically. "You don't say? I thought it was this weird shadow that I'd picked up somewhere between my quarters and the Great Hall. Did you hear that, Harry? Draco's sitting between us."
A murmur ran the length of the table as they noticed her use of the Slytherin's first name.
Harry nodded, looking suitably puzzled. "Really? That does explain why I didn't get much of a response when I tried to hold your hand earlier."
Half the table dissolved into laughter, the other half looking shocked and appalled. Draco gave a very disdainful snort.
"Have you quite finished amusing yourselves at my expense?" he demanded at his most supercilious, and everyone paid attention again, waiting for the explosions to start.
Hermione and Harry shook their heads solemnly. "Nope," Harry answered.
"But we'll be sure to advise you when we have done," Hermione promised with her most manufactured, sugary cheerfulness.
Draco continued to stare at her haughtily for a long moment before offering her a brief but genuine smile that once again shocked everyone in the vicinity who could see it—and many of those who were craning to watch from nearby tables.
"Well, so long as you keep me informed. Pass me the jam, 'Mione?"
She did so, amused by his use of the short form of her name and the immediate effect that it had on everyone. She could actually hear the news being repeated in accents of extraordinary shock further down the table to those who hadn't heard the original: "He called her 'Mione."
Oh, this was going to be so much fun.
They didn't get the opportunity to consume very much food as everybody kept peppering them with questions; there were only so many bites they could manage in between fending off the inquiries. Yes, their friendship was relatively new. No, they didn't think it was wrong for Draco to be sitting at the table with them, hadn't everyone else heard the announcement Albus had made about Prefects sitting wherever they pleased? Yes, they would have a problem with Draco if he started cursing the other Gryffindors at the table. No, they did not think that he was going to do so. Draco's added commentary of, "Not unless they curse me first," once again caused a storm of noise, but Hermione thought it was a fair point.
Ron spent the entire meal glaring at them ferociously from the other side of the table. Ginny did her best to help them out, despite her not knowing anything about the situation. Hermione was reminded of what a great friend the youngest Weasley was, especially now that she'd given up any idea of Harry being romantically interested in her.
"So, Malfoy, how was your holiday?" she asked.
"Tolerable, Miss Weasley," Draco said politely. "It was going quite well at the beginning. I enjoyed being reunited with my family and was able to spend some nice quiet time at home. The end was rather less pleasing, as I informed Voldemort"—a twitter went up the length of the table—"that I did not intend to serve him, and he tortured me and dropped me in the Forbidden Forest to be torn apart by werewolves during the full moon on Monday."
Just in case any of those Slytherins were wondering if this was actually Draco.
Ginny took this news in a stride. "May I congratulate you on how well you appear to have survived that ordeal?"
Draco smiled, still carefully courteous. "Thank you. I was quite satisfied with the outcome."
Hermione wondered if he had run his decision by Albus and decided that she was going to have fun working with the Slytherin; neither of them appeared to blindly follow the headmaster. He was a brilliant and long-lived man, but even he couldn't see and plan for everything—though she supposed that he was trying about as hard as she was. Still, their goals weren't identical; she had to take care of Harry and Severus (as best she could) and herself. It appeared that Draco had adopted a similar methodology.
She, Harry, and Draco went down to Defence together and were amused by the wide berth that was being granted them by the rest of the students. Daphne was stuck without anyone to walk with as she couldn't seem to bring herself to join the Gryffindor duo, and Hermione wondered if that meant that she was really one to cross off the list of Draco's friends; she could also be wisely hedging her bets while waiting to see how Slytherin House reacted. Neville, Hermione was pleased to see, was finally the one who walked up to join them.
"How did you get out of the Forest, Malfoy?" he bravely asked.
"That's an excellent question, Neville," Tonks said, appearing from the opposite direction as they converged outside her classroom. "Defence against werewolves falls within the purview of my class, so let's save that answer for once we're inside, shall we?"
They all entered and sat down hurriedly, the other students looking very intrigued and pleased that Neville had had the guts to ask the question that they had all been thinking.
Harry and Hermione were a little worried about just what was going to come out of this discussion, but Tonks was more than able to handle the students. She managed to turn their rapt interest in this topic into a full lecture on defence against Dark animals and dangers to wizards, and there was plenty of opportunity for students to answer questions from the text or from their life.
"So, Mr Malfoy," Tonks finally asked as class was drawing to a close, "how do you escape from a pack of werewolves trying to tear you to pieces in the Forbidden Forest?"
He shook his head. "You don't. If you're really lucky, however, you're rescued."
"And who or what is capable of rescuing you from a pack of werewolves?" their professor questioned.
Draco smiled. "Unicorns, actually. The Forbidden Forest is home to a herd of them, and they don't fear humans infected with lycanthropy. They drove off the werewolves, allowing me to escape to safety."
It was a fairly nice summary under the circumstances. Everyone knew that unicorns had powers that humans didn't, so it made a lot more sense to mention them rather than any human assistance—especially since she and Harry couldn't explain how they'd known to go out into the Forest, nor could they give a good accounting of how they'd fought off a pack of werewolves unless they mentioned the unicorns anyway.
"It's good news for us that Voldemort doesn't anticipate the intervention of creatures of the Light," Tonks said cheerfully.
She let them go with an admonishment to always be on their guard and to plan for a practical lesson next week, as she wanted to ensure that they were all keeping up their defensive skills after the holiday.
We'll have to ask Severus if Draco can join us for our training, Hermione proposed as they headed down the corridor on their way to the Great Hall for lunch.
You think? Harry asked doubtfully. He didn't seem so happy before.
I think Severus is just a little more suspicious than you and I are. Hugely paranoid, really. He's watched Draco grow up, after all, and has had years to see him as a Malfoy clone. The jury might still be out on how much he believes that Draco could really have changed.
Or he was just really annoyed about that Pure-Adult-kept-a-secret detail and that annoyance was bleeding into everything else.
But you believe him? Harry asked.
I do, she said simply. I've trusted him with our secret, and if that doesn't tell you how I feel, I don't know what will. As for the training, I just think he'd like to join us.
Harry blinked. Well, I'd certainly like to have him.
Hermione gave in to soft mental laughter. I think that goes without saying.
Harry blushed crimson, the pink staining his cheeks physically as well as mentally. You know what I meant.
Draco stopped to regard them through narrowed eyes, forcing them to stop, too. "I don't think it's polite to do that when another person is with you."
Hermione smiled. "You're just going to have to get used to it. We barely notice anymore. It's very useful."
"I can easily believe that," he said, still rather sourly. "But it leaves me extremely curious as to what you were discussing."
Harry's blush deepened, and Draco suddenly smirked.
"Do I feel my ears burning?"
Hermione's smirk matched his. "I don't know what you're talking about, Draco. Why would we be discussing you?"
Draco started walking again, heading down the hallway ahead of them with a bounce in his step.
What did you do to him? Harry asked incredulously. He's been completely different today.
I might have spoken to him briefly, she admitted, amused that he immediately linked Draco's change of manner to her. It probably just went to show that she was a busy-body and her best friend knew it. We sorted a few things out. Don't worry about it.
Harry was looking after the blond, and after a moment, he shrugged and smiled.
Well, I'm glad he's happy. I just hope he doesn't get upset with me again.
She touched his arm, tugging him into motion to follow after the blond before he got too far ahead and was in danger of being on his own in the corridor at a time when that was probably unwise.
I think you'll be pleasantly surprised, Harry.
Harry turned a sudden look of suspicion on her.
Just what did you say to him, Hermione? he demanded.
We discussed a number of subjects, she said evasively. He had one very pervasive worry, but I was able to stop him stressing so much about it.
Oh? he asked curiously.
There was no getting around that one. I promised I wouldn't say.
Harry was regarding her narrowly, just as Draco had done a moment ago. Should I have extracted a promise that you not speak about me with him?
She smiled softly at him. I think if you really didn't want him to know, you shouldn't have mentioned how much you liked his hair in his hearing.
Harry's head fell as he blushed brilliantly red once more. He was awake? He sounded mortified.
Drifting in and out of consciousness. But don't worry: it made him smile.
Harry immediately brightened. It did?
She nodded as she tried to work out the best way to phrase her warning without making it sound too ominous. Just … don't rush, okay?
You know I wouldn't leave you in this alone, he said indignantly.
She shook her head. I mean for Draco. He's … at a point in his life where you can't go too quickly with him, that's all.
Harry wanted to ask more questions, she could see that, but he'd apparently gathered from her tone that she wasn't going to say more.
With everything that's going on, I imagine we won't be progressing too quickly.
She smiled, thinking privately that if Draco weren't being such a twit about the werewolf issue, they'd probably already be in bed. Draco had nearly died, after all, and there had been a great big emotionally charged scene. You two will be fine, I'm sure.
As they sat down to lunch, Draco and Harry both appeared lost in thought in a good way rather than a bad one, which was just as well, as Ron was back to glaring absolute daggers at them. Hermione once again resigned herself to not speaking with him anytime soon. The most annoying part was that he wouldn't at least ask them what was going on; no, he was just going to sit at the other end of the table, glare a lot, and make up stupid reasons for what he saw them doing.
She knew how it would look to Ron; he already strongly disliked the Slytherin, and the fact that Draco now made Harry and Hermione a trio without Ron was going to incense the redhead. Since Draco's being with them was now intimately connected to the issue of Pure Adults, Hermione really felt as though her hands were tied.
Besides, although most touted her as the Goody-Two-Shoes of Gryffindor as well as its know-it-all, she did possess the Slytherin side that Draco had seen in all her planning for her and Harry's safety. She was sick of being the one who always tried to bridge the gap between her friends. If Ron wasn't going to make even a little bit of an effort, she didn't see why she had to—even if it annoyed her on principle to sit here and know that he was blatantly misunderstanding the situation.
Ron had spent so much less time than she and Harry had in training both last and this year that it was hardly surprising that he felt outstripped by them in ability. They spent a lot of time doing that training—whether it was the actual sessions or their own practice—and they spent a lot of time doing school work.
Add in the Pure Adult factor this year, and it was nearly impossible for Ron to spend very much time with them. He hadn't given them any compelling reasons to consider involving him in their secrets; the only information he'd thought he'd found out this year had been shouted to the corridor, and she didn't even want to think about how he'd feel about the men she and Harry had fallen for. It was only going to upset her if she dwelled on it, though, so she tried to resolutely turn her mind away from him entirely.
Fawkes, when does Albus intend to take Draco to Diagon Alley?
Tomorrow, I believe, the phoenix answered, evincing no surprise that she was asking.
That's precisely when he might be expected to go, she pointed out. When all the professors are free.
The phoenix's tone was resigned. Come to your point, Girlicorne.
She used her most persuasive tone. Especially given that the Death Eater sympathizers wouldn't have wanted to call attention to themselves by instantly sending off an owl after breakfast this morning, the news might not even have reached Voldemort yet. Harry and I are willing and able, and since Draco doesn't have Astronomy, either, he's got the time.
You don't seriously think Albus is going to let Harry go to Diagon Alley unescorted. Fawkes's tone eloquently expressed his doubt.
Ask him, she suggested. Harry can be Disillusioned the whole time if the headmaster wishes. We can be back before anyone even knows that we left.
There was a moment of silence as Fawkes conferred with Albus. She trusted that the headmaster would realize all on his own that this would be an opportunity for Harry and Draco to get closer to one another, and if Albus did want to get rid of the Pure Adults without alienating her or Harry completely, then….
Boy-bird is to remain Disillusioned, Portkeys are to be at hand, and you're to return at the first sign of trouble.
Albus's eyes met hers piercingly for a moment from the High Table, and she inclined her head marginally. Inwardly, she smiled to herself, unsurprised.
She ate slowly so that they had to linger at lunch, Draco and Harry politely waiting for her to finish, forcing all the students with classes to head off so as not to be late. By the time it was just Hermione eating, the others seemed to lose interest; perhaps they no longer anticipated a spectacular fight of some sort. At any rate, they drifted off for their afternoon activity of choice.
When she finally pushed her plate aside, the two boys rose immediately, and they walked out of the Great Hall together. Although it would hardly be an inconvenience to go down to the dungeons to grab their cloaks, Hermione wasn't in that sort of mood. Besides, it made them much more unpredictable this way.
She conjured cloaks for each of them and Summoned some of her money for Draco's pocket. They could sort it out afterwards because she wasn't able to Summon his; any sensible wizard charmed his coins so that they couldn't be magically seized by someone else.
Harry and Draco looked down at themselves and up at her.
"Are we going somewhere?" Draco asked.
Harry took in her smirk. "Apparently." He leaned closer to Draco to say conspiratorially, "It's better to just go along with her when she's in this sort of mood."
The Slytherin looked up at her again, shrugged, and fell in step. With Hermione in the lead, they headed out the door, down the steps, and across the snow-covered lawn.
When it became clear that the gates were their destination, Harry stalled.
"Er, 'Mione," he said hesitantly, "are you sure we should—?"
Her smirk deepened. "And you're supposed to be the Gryffindor troublemaker."
"Well, uh—" he began sheepishly but couldn't seem to acquire more articulacy.
Laughing, she said, "Actually, it's rather reassuring to know that you won't rush off the grounds for no reason. In this case, however, you can rest assured; we have the headmaster's approval."
The two of them looked surprised. "What?"
She smiled. "You'll understand when we get there. You're to Disillusion yourself, love," she told Harry, "and then I'll let you know where we're going. We wouldn't want to risk being overheard, so you'll have to Side-Along Draco."
While Harry Disillusioned himself, Draco looked pointedly around the deserted, snow-swept grounds. As if she couldn't have charmed the area. She offered him her best look of wide-eyed innocence, which caused him to roll his eyes. She noticed that he didn't actually attempt to talk her into revealing the location, however, and she saw by the slight widening of his eyes as much as the marginal distortion around him when Harry had wrapped his arms around the blond boy.
A trial for both of them, she was sure.
We're going to Diagon Alley, Harry, she instructed. Apparate to the entrance behind the Leaky Cauldron.
Thirty minutes later, they were back on the Hogwarts grounds, Hermione smirking to herself again over the fact that the boys had somehow found it necessary to Side-Along on the way back despite their both now knowing where they were going. She could sort of see why Albus was the way he was if a little bit of manipulation was this much fun; she probably needed to keep a stern eye on herself.
She Vanished their conjured cloaks as soon as they were inside, and the three of them headed down to the dungeons together. Draco wanted to see his quarters, and he seemed happy enough to have company; solo travel in the dungeons was still not his safest option right now. Looking very happy to possess his new wand, he spent several moments working out what password to set for his door that none of his ex-friends might guess, and Hermione watched with approval as he wove runes into the wards for added security.
The rooms were serviceable although considerably smaller than Harry and Hermione's; they had the privilege of being Head Boy and Head Girl, apparently. Draco had a bedroom, a small sitting room, and a bathroom. All his belongings had been unpacked and set out by the house-elves in what he confided to them was a relatively close approximation to how he'd had everything laid out in his old dorm. He expressed himself satisfied—"I always knew I was deserving of a single room"—and then wanted to see their quarters. He had never been inside them before, not being one to seek out the Gryffindors despite the open invitation they had issued to all the Prefects.
They led him down the hallway to their quarters which prompted a very suspicious look back towards his own.
"We suspect it was Albus's bright idea," Hermione said. "He's been known to do these sorts of things."
"Every minute of every day," Harry muttered, and Draco snorted.
Once inside, Draco proceeded to explore, poking his head into both of their bedrooms and the bathroom as well as prowling around the entire common room. He wondered about the open space until they explained themselves, and he looked impressed.
He flopped onto the couch, somehow managing to do it much more elegantly than she or Harry did, and pronounced, "I like what you've done with the place."
"We're so pleased to have the Malfoy seal of approval," she said, laughing, while Harry grinned. "I assume you have homework that you need to catch up on?"
"I don't think you need to assume, Hermione," Draco said with an eye roll, "given that you made sure to give me the notes from the classes I missed."
Hermione was unrepentant. "It would be a shame for Voldemort's idiotic plan to impact your scholastic career."
Draco did his best to nod solemnly, whereas Harry just laughed.
"That's definitely our biggest concern here, 'Mione. Good to know you're on top of it."
Despite the teasing, they both sat down to get their schoolwork out of the way. Both of them had detention after dinner, and Hermione had her detention-cum-yelling session afterwards.
The afternoon passed peacefully, a lot more so than it would have done if Ron was the third member of their trio. She reminded herself that she wasn't thinking about him. Harry seemed to grow more and more relaxed the longer the day progressed without Draco yelling at him, and she hoped that he wouldn't require an answer as to what was going on from either of them before they could give him one.
They had dinner together, confirming to everyone that neither breakfast nor lunch had been a fluke. Since they wanted to begin as they meant to go on, they invited themselves over to the Hufflepuff table for the meal. The Huffs looked a little surprised—or perhaps it was alarmed—to have a Slytherin in their midst, but since he was corralled by two Gryffindors, they seemed to decide finally that he had to be safe enough.
After dinner, the boys went off to their detention. Despite the fact that Draco was a Slytherin, several people were offended on his behalf that Severus had insisted he begin his detention on the same day that everyone else had learnt that he was alive and well. Hermione found it funny, as well as a relief because otherwise his seventh day of detention would coincide with the new moon, and she'd prefer to have him under observation for the whole evening.
This was what she would be doing with Remus, who had promised to sneak in early in the morning to drink the potion. He was going to stay in her lab the whole day to ensure that he was safely ensconced and wouldn't be sighted by anyone even though the action wouldn't occur until that evening. Although becoming an Animagus would be accelerated in a werewolf's case according to her plan, she intended to use the entirety of the sixteen hours and five minutes from the moon's set until its rise the next day. If that meant a night of no sleep, then so be it.
Caught up on her homework, Hermione spent the hours while the boys were in detention going over her notes for the Weresbane, mentally cataloguing and verifying that she had all the proper ingredients. She'd done this at least three times before, but she was sure that it didn't hurt to check one more time. The potion required longer resting phases than the original, so she would be beginning it next Thursday, five days before the new moon.
Harry came back from detention happier than ever because Draco had been entirely civil—downright cordial, even—despite her not being there to act as a buffer. Hermione realized that keeping the attraction between the two of them a secret was likely to prove to be an exercise in futility, but she supposed this new development didn't change the fact that she and Harry had supposedly originally slept together.
She wondered if she would finally be dismissed from the role of villain or if it would somehow become her fault that the hero of the wizarding world was gay.
She snorted to herself. Who was she kidding? It was the Daily Prophet which informed people's opinions; it was her fault for sure.
Just before nine o'clock, she obediently headed to Severus's office so that she would be on time for what she suspected would be her very comprehensive dressing down. Drawing a deep breath, she knocked on the door and entered when she was bid to do so.