Daydreams

Chapter Five:  Consequences

“Why are you here?”

Granger looked up, eyes widening at the sight of him looming over her.  Her hand went for her wand lying next to the huge book that lay open before her.

“What?”  

“Why. Are. You. Here?” he repeated, placing his hands on the book, obscuring the scrolling, decorative letters.

“I’m. Reading.” she said, copying him, but adding a touch of ‘obviously moron’ to her tone as she rolled his eyes.

“No, Granger.” He sat down next to her and was instantly disconcerted that he noticed the ends of her hair curling down her back. And that he wanted to touch it.  “No, why are you here at Hogwarts.  Why are you attending classes?  Are you here to spy on me?  To keep me in check?  In fact,” he leaned forward, invading her personal space, “Are you my private Auror, trying to catch me backsliding into my evil ways?”  For that was what he had finally concluded after tossing and turning and dreaming about her pale shoulders.

“Not everything is about you, ferret.” She said, tossing her hair over her shoulders and moving back slightly, but not before he got a good whiff of eau de Granger, something spicy, nutmeg and mace.  Strangely pleasing.  

She closed the book with a bang.  He put his hand on her shoulder and she flinched, looking at him strangely.  And so she might, for this might have been the first time he had ever touched her, of his own accord.  He slowly removed his hand and said in a slightly less offensive manner. “Really Granger, why are you taking classes at Hogwarts. Shouldn’t you be off with those twits somewhere at University or something?”

She looked at him, measuredly.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw his father come into the library, speak with the witch at the main desk and walk out again.  

“Well, Malfoy.” She spoke slowly never losing her suspicious look.  “I’m here to do research, for the Ministry in fact.” She might have raised her nose slightly a trifle as she said this.

He looked at her, not speaking.  She cocked her head and looked back at him, puzzled.

“Why in the world do you care?  Why are you even speaking to me?”

Moments passed and he did not speak. He just sneered, stood up and walked away.  

Why did he talk to her?  He didn’t even know; just saw her there reading and approached without thinking.  Or if he was thinking, it was based on a feeling that they had some kind of shared experience, but that was truly not the case.  He had seen her wishes, and felt ‘something’ based on those experiences, but she did not know he saw them, did not feel the same unease growing from those experiences.  

Which is why he was surprised to feel her hand touch his elbow.  She had stopped him, before the door leading from the library into the hallway.

“Come on.” she said, lifting the massive book under her arm, walking away.  Again, without thinking he reached out and took the book from her.  She stopped in the hallway.  It was something Harry or Ron would have done, carrying a book for her.  

They could hear the echoes of footsteps of hurrying students all around them.  But it seemed oddly still as they gazed at each other.  She shook her head slightly and kept walking.  And even more strangely, he followed her.  

==============

“So, did he take it?”

“I believe he has.”

“Who?”

“Hermione Granger.  I think.”

“Really!  Well, that is surprising.”

“Truly.”

“Does it upset you?”

“Those days are behind me, thanks to you.”

“It was necessary.  You know it now.  You could not be allowed to continue on as before.’

“Ministry punishments are so humane.”

“You are sarcastic, however, the alternative was death.  Your crimes were unforgivable.”

“I do realize this.  And, I am … appreciative.”

“So… Hermione.  A good choice.  If anyone could humanize him, perhaps it is she.  He is a puzzle and she will want to solve it.  And he will know her better than anyone else.”

“Odd.  But there it is.  Not so horrible after all.”

“Thank you, Lucius.  That’s all for now.”

“Thank you, Headmistress McGonagall.”  

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Granger walked to the garden.  There was a fine mist in the air, but she cast a charm, and it blew away.  She looked about her, found the stone bench from the other evening and sat down, looking up at him, daring him to sit next to her.

He sat.  Gritting his teeth.  Why was he here?

“As I said, I’m doing research for the ministry.  They felt my skills  and ready knowledge of the texts here made me the best candidate for this work, and when they asked, I accepted.”

He looked at her.

“I’m working on specialized curses, curses for those,” she bit her lip, “who need to be punished by the Ministry.  Azkaban is no longer an option, but there needs to be some kind of accountability. Some kind of check on the people who played a part...before.”

“Oh.” He nodded.  “Like me.”

“Yes.” she said, looking at him defiantly. “Exactly.  Like you.”  

“Do I have you to thank for never flying again then?” he tried to sound sneering and angry, but it didn’t quite come out right.

“Was that your punishment, then?  I had wondered.  I remember seeing you fly.  You were quite good.”  She turned away and fingered the lavender growing nearby, releasing it’s soft, peculiar scent.

She turned back to him.  Her face was serious, her brown eyes deep.

“No, I am not the reason you will never fly again, Draco.”  He flinched at her use of his name. “ Yes, I found that curse, to take away your heart’s happiness.  But it was your actions, your choices, hard as they were, as conflicted as perhaps you were, that led to the use of that curse.”

Granger stood up.  

“It’s important for you to realize that.”

He turned away from her.  He heard her footsteps as she moved away.  He reached out and took a stem of lavender from the same plant, and crushed it.