Sins of the Father

Disclaimer: All characters presented in the fic are the property of
J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion

Author's Note: Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.


Special Thanks: Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhash_mekashefah
for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

Chapter Five
The Future?

Over the remaining month, Hermione and Draco had found a
comfortable rapport. Where as before their night in the Astronomy
Tower, they had spent their time together in order to satisfy whatever
mysterious force was calling them together, now they actually looked
forward to and enjoyed that mutual time.


Not much changed,
both still continued to study independently or catch up on their
leisure reading, but the atmosphere was relaxed and devoid of the
tension that had been there before. It was as if through some unspoken
agreement, they had both confessed that there was something between
them too strong to deny; too strong to fight even.


Neither
dared to mention the definite change that had occurred between them,
nor did they allow it to change how they interacted when amongst the
rest of the students.


“Ten points from Gryffindor, Weasley,” Draco drawled one day after coming across Ron shoving Harry playfully in the hallway.


Ron
tensed at the sound of the Head Boy’s voice. Despite his best friends’
assurances that Draco really had changed, he still couldn’t let go of
his suspicions that the Slytherin was not to be trusted.


“For what,” he snapped spinning around, his face flushed as his blue eyes bore into silver ones.


A
smirk played at Draco’s mouth as he replied lazily, “I would think that
as a Prefect you would be well aware of Hogwarts’ policy against
brawling in the corridors.”


“Any moron with eyes could see
that we were just playing, Malfoy,” Ron retorted, trying to pull free
from Harry’s grip on his shoulder. “Of course if you had any real friends, you might be better equipped to recognize the action.”


Draco
had perfected the art of masking his emotions and did not allow his
face to betray the fact that Ron’s words had struck a chord within him,
opting instead to retaliate. ‘The thick Gryfor, or, so loyal, so brave, so easy,’

he thought as he replied. “As happy as you and Potter might be in your
relationship, I assure you that I have no desire to know the details of
your perversions. Ten more points for indulging your indiscretions
outside of the privacy of Gryffindor Tower.”


“C’mon mate,”
Harry called, pulling Ron from Draco and trying to avoid the loss of
more points or the detention Ron was sure to receive for trying to
disfigure the Head Boy in the middle of the hallway. “He’s simply
jealous that he can’t have you for himself,” he replied, his voice
turning syrupy as he batted his eyelashes over his shoulder at Draco in
farewell.


Draco chuckled to himself, ‘Who knew that Potter had a sense of humor,’
he wondered as he made his way towards Arithmancy. As much as he
loathed admitting it, the Weasel had a point. He might not have had
friendship like that of the Gryffindor trio, but this year was the
first where he found himself alone.


He had known Pansy, Greg
and Vincent since childhood, growing up playing with them whenever
their parents were called away for some social gathering. They had
entered Hogwarts as close friends as anyone within Slytherin House
could be.


How ironic it was that the students that had been
his friends the longest were the first to turn their backs on him. All
four of them had become increasingly involved inth Eth Eater activity.
Though never inducted into Voldemort’s ranks, their parents encouraged
them to provide as much information as they could about the Headmasters
actions.


When Lucius betrayed Voldemort, Draco’s three
childhood friends had been the ones to deliver the information to
Slytherin House. He had little doubt that they were also the one’s that
provided the information necessary for his capture.


Draco
groaned as he heard a husky voice beh behind him and the increased
foot falls indicating someone trying to catch up to him. Turning
slowly, he struggled not to laugh as he greeted the girl who had been,
not so subtly, trying to gain his attention since his recovery.

“What
is it Millicent,” he questioned impatiently, in no mood to listen to
her pathetic, fumbling attempts at being coy. “In case you hadn’t
noticed the time, the next period starts in three minutes.”


Millicent
shifted heoks oks to her other arm and she shifted her weight nervously
to the right side. “Of course Malfoy, I was just hoping that, well I
wanted…”


Generally Draco followed the instruction that he’d
received all his life. Always remaining cool, regardless of how
maddening, annoying, or preposterous the current situation was. His
father however had never encountered Millicent Bullstrode when giving
him those lessons and the girl appeared too thick to grasp theerouerous
brush offs he had given her over the months.


“For Merlin’s
sake Bullstrode, spit it out or shut up. On second tho, do, don’t
complete that thought. You’re attempts at subtlety are pathetic. I am
not interested in studying, eating, going to Hogsmeade, shagging, or
any other proposition you have been struggling to present me with,”
Draco hissed, lowering his voice not for her benefit, but rather to
save himself embarrassment.


“Might I suggest you try Crabbe
or Goyle? Although I doubt that even those two would be interested.
Generally a man is interested in a witch. Perhaps you might have a
chance with Longbottom; or Finnegan, if you can get him away from
Thomas for long enough.”


As he turned to continue on his way
to Arithmancy, Draco did not break stride as the witch who had been
momentarily dumb struck found her voice again.


“You might
want to try and hold on to the few in your house that would still
associate with you. The Malfoy name holds considerably less influence
these days and you will need allies,” Millicent spat at his retreating
back.


She was right of course. Draco had considered it as
the end of term drew near. The only reason he was able to live in
relative peace now was because he was under Dumbledore’s watchful eye
and had quarters outside of Slytherin House. But when he graduated,
that would no longer be the case.


The Death Eater’s were
no longer active. Those that had been involved either evading capture
or aiding the Ministry in exchange for whatever mercy could be found in
finding those that were missing. That did not leave Draco in any less
danger.


While no one would openly support the cause of their
fallen Lord, they would not easily forget Draco’s association with
their betrayal. Many had lost their lives or that of family due to the
information that Lucius provided the Ministry and their memories were
sure to be long.


Absently settling down in the back of the
classroom, D pul pulled out his parchment and quill. When Professor
Vector cleared his voice indicating the start of class, Draco willed
himself to put the questions that Millicent had triggered out of his
mind.


Arithmancy had been uncharacteristically boring.
Generally a fascinating class, examining the science and logic used for
crafting spells, today’s lessod bed been the first in a series of month
long revision. Draco, having a near photographic memory, had little
patience for those professors that chose to coddle their students.


While
it might be popular opinion that Professor Snape was his favorite due
to the preferential treatment he received, that was not the case. He
had a great deal of respect for any professor that demanded their
students take responsibility for their own education, including
Professor McGonagall.


As he walked down the corridor,
anxious to retreat to the quiet of his common room where perhaps the
ss hes headache that had developed might subside, an angry voice
assaulted his senses.


“Hold up Malfoy!”


Draco
groaned inwardly, he had grown accustomed to his new found
understanding with Hermione. Their interactions always subdued,
generally silent, the irritation in her voice would be foreign to him,
had he not recognized them from six years of animosity.


He
stopped and turned to address her. It would do no good to continue on
as if he did not hear her. She could follow him anywhere he might
choose to safely retreat and he figured any confrontation held in the
corridors would be less explosive than if he allowed her anger to grow
until they reached their quarters.


“Yes Granger,” he returned, hoping that the verbal onslaught that was coming would be swift.


“How
dare you take twenty points from my house without just cause? Just
because you have a badge that says you’re Head Boy doesn’t give you the
right to walk about…” Her voice trailed off as he winced at the
inflection in her voice.


“As much as I empathize with your
outrage Granger, it appeared to me as if your friend the Weasel was
assaulting precious Potter. Surely you should be happy that I diffused
the situation before it got out of hand. He would have only lost ten
points had Potter not insinuated that their activities were of a more
personal nature. I’m sure the Head Girl would not advocate students
allowing their hormones to dictate how students interact in the
corridors,” Draco retorted calmly as he pressed the fingers of his left
hand to his temple.


“You are positively infuriating, you
know that Malfoy?” Hermione shook her head as an infuriated laugh left
her lips, her arms folded across her chest and weight shifting from
side to side. “Ron and Harry have been driving me crazy about how we
spend so little time together and I’ve actually been putting them off
because of whatever this is,” she hissed at him, lowering her
voice and gesturing towards the air between them. “But I believe that
my best friends and I are long overdue for an evening together. I do
hope that you left the common room presentable, I will be having company tonight.”


Draco
groaned as Hermione brushed past him. If there was one thing he didn’t
need tonight, any night really, was the company of Ron Weasley. Potter
had become tolerable as he rarely took anything Draco said seriously,
but Weasley simply had no appreciation for subtle humor, ready to
curse, hex, or punch at the slightest provocation.


Of
course, Draco thought smiling inwardly, there was the time that Ron
tried to hex him and spent the rndernder of the afternoon spitting up
slugs. “Tonight could prove interesting,” he chuckled before groaning and clutching his head. “Or it could prove to beainfainful end to the day,” he amended as the pounding behind his eyes returned.


When
Harry and Ron arrived later that evening in the common room, Draco
attempted to retire to his room for the evening. He had resigned
himself that the best way to avoid a full blown migraine was to stay as
far away from Weasley as possible. Of course, the cursed bond he shared
with Hermione would not allow him to do that.


“Okay ‘Mione,
I know that you and Harry keep insisting that Malfoy here is a reformed
man, but what else is going on? There’s only a month left before
N.E.W.T.’s and you have yet to set up our revision schedule. You
haven’t come to Hogsmeade with us at all since Harry here as been
released. You spend your evenings studying with Malfoy,” Ron stopped as
Hermione opened her mouth as if to deny it.


Harry chuckled
as he watched her eyes widen. “Well, you might not be studying,” he
raised an eyebrow in Draco’s direction, “but according to the map you
are spending the evenings in the common room.”


Hermione shot
Harry a heated glance, not pleased that her ally had turned on her.
“Nothings going on you guys. Malfoy and I just found that we study well
together. Honestly Ron, we’re in our seventh year,” she continued, the
frustration in her voice evident, “you should not need me to remind you
that you need to study.”


“But that doesn’t explain why you
can’t even carve out time to join us for a Butterbeer on the weekends
Mione,” Ron countered. “C’mon, we miss spending time with you. This is
the last Hogsmeade weekend ever, you’ve got to come.”


Hermione
sighed. She did miss her friends. Actually she was surprised it had
taken Ron so long to say something to her. Generally he said the first
thing that came to mind whether he should or not. She looked to Harry
who was nodding in agreement. It’s not that she didn’t want to go. She
just didn’t know whether she could go. She hadn’t spent an
entire day apart from Draco since they had rescued him. As it was, the
few classes they did not share were barely tolerable.


Sensing
her hesitation, Ron sighed. “Mione, I can’t believe I’m going to say
this. If it makes your decision easier, you can even bring the git. I
won’t lift my wand or fist all day, I promise.”


Hermione bit
her lip. Although she knew she shouldn’t, she turned to look to Draco.
Logic told her that they would be fine for one day, but it wasn’t
something they discussed.


“Why Weasley, I wouldn’t want you to make Potter here jealous now that I’m aware of the nature of your relationship,”
Draco interrupted her thoughts. “Actually, it would be refreshing to
have the common room to myself,” he added scowling in Hermione’s
direction.


She knew it was petty banter with little meaning,
but Draco’s insinuation that she was behaving like some witch with
nothing better to do than sniff behind him struck a nerve within her.


Fixing her face in her own smirk Hermione turned back towards him, “Actually
Draco,
I think that I have carried the weight of both of our duties for long
en. As. As Head Girl, I need to meet with you sometime soon to discuss
the graduation festivities and I can think of no better time than
Sunday. Shall we say three at the Three Broomsticks?”


Harry coughed a laugh that sounded remotely like “whipped”.


As the glare of the two Head Students focused on his own smiling green eyes, he gathered his composure changing the subject.


Draco
spent the rest of the evening sitting in a chair by the fire pretending
to concentrate on the novel he had opened before him. He was actually
listening as the three Gryffindors discussed their plans for next year.
Potter was predictably hoping to be accepted into the Auror’s training
program. Weasley was considering applying alongside Potter, but was
really hoping to be recruited for his favorite Quidditch team, the
Chudley Canon’s.


Draco let out an uncharacteristic snort at
that proclamation. True, Ron had improved considerably since his debut
on the Gryffindor House team during their fifth year. But he was still
no more than an average Keeper. Even if the Quidditch season had not
ended prematurely due to the Final Battle, his likelihood to ever be
recruited professionally were slim to none.


“Well I intend
to get a job at the ministry,” Hermione stated. She had seen the look
that Ron had given Malfoy and would really prefer to avoid any conflict
this evening.


“What’s that Granger,” Draco interrupted, “not going to follow Potter and Weasley into being the purveyors of justice?”


Hermione
narrowed her eyes briefly at the Slytherin before turning back to her
best friends. “Actually, I am hoping to work in the Department of
Mysteries. Of course, I don’t know exactly what they do, but from what
Dumbledore has said I imagine that they work with converting raw
magical energy into a usable form. I’ve always been fascinated with the
science behind magic.”


Ron’s mouth gaped as he looked at his
friend. “Blimey. We’re about to graduate and you want to get a job
where you’ll be doing more research?”


“Ron, no matter what
job you take you will have to do some form of research. In Quidditch,
you research the other teams’ tactics. Aurors have to research their
suspects or the details of whatever case they’re working on. Even your
brothers conduct research when developing their new product. Just
because you’re graduating, assuming you take the time to study for your
N.E.W.T.’s, does not mean you won’t have to think anymore,” Hermione
chided.


Ron looked to Harry, disappointed to find no support
from his best friend. Sighing in defeat he stood, “Fine Hermione, you
win. I need to take my studies more seriously. C’mon Harry, I think
Professor Granger is telling us that we should be back in Gryffindor
Tower studying.”


Laughing at Ron, Harry stood as well. “All right Hermione. But we’ll see you Sunday at the Three Broomsticks right?”


Nodding
her Head as Harry pulled her into his arms, holding her longer than
necessary, Hermione bit her lip as he whispered in her ear, “I don’t
know what’s going on between you and Malfoy and I know he’s changed.
Just, be careful Mione. He doesn’t have to be a Death Eater for you to
get hurt.”

The weekend passed swiftly, Hermione managed to even
convince Draco to join her on her patrols. In truth, she had done
little other than direct the prefects since the Final Battle, first
caught up with tending to Draco and then later unable or unwilling to
leave his company.


When Sunday came, Harry and Ron were calling from outside of the portrait hole nearly a half hour before breakfast.


“Pity
that the two of you aren’t this enthusiastic about getting to your
classes,” Hermione chided as she let her friends into the Head suite.
The carriages don’t leave for another two hours.


Harry cast
a sideways glance at Ron before replying. “We know. Ron here wanted to
make sure that you didn’t disappear before breakfast in an effort to
back out. Where’s Malfoy, are you still determined to subject us to his
presence today?”


Hermione’s lips pursed. “That’s very
funny Harry. Perhaps I should have taken Draco seriously when he told
me that you two had something going on,” she countered before
addressing Ron. “Is Luna coming as well?”


“Well, she said
she might meet us later. Apparently she has something planned with my
sister that she can’t tell me. She’s been acting strangely lately.”


“No?
Lovegood acting strange,” Draco drawled from the top of the stairs. “I
would think that you were quite accustomed to that. There is a reason
most of the first and second years think her name really is Loony.”


Hermione
and Harry stifled laughter as Ron struggled to remain his composure. “I
promised Hermione that I wouldn’t get into it with you today. So can we
please try to keep this civil?”


Draco started to reply, but
Hermione grabbed her cloak and bag and shoved Ron out of the common
room before he could goad Ron further. Smiling she looked back through
the portrait hole, “we’ll meet you outside after breakfast,” she asked,
allowing the painting to close when he answered with a nod.
Amazingly,
the morning in Hogsmeade went relatively well. Their first visit had
been to Fred and George’s shop. It was still early and the twins who
loathed waking early did not offer until well after noon.


When
the Gryffindors finally managed to rouse the two shop owners, they
proved to be quite hospitable, unwilling to pass up the opportunity to
show the Slytherin patron how welcome he was.


Master’s of
charm and deception, as any successful prankster must be, they engaged
Malfoy in idle talk after showing Ron, Harry and Hermione to their flat
upstairs to floo the Burrow to discuss the graduation celebration their
mum was planning.


When the Gryffindors returned to the
shop, George and Draco were arguing animatedly about which team would
make the Quidditch Finals.


“I always suspected that you
and your brother were a bit nutters, but now I’m convinced. You think
that the Fitchburg Finches will actually best Kenmare for a shot at the
cup,” Draco questioned, his voice unusually loud.


Hermione
laughed to herself. It was definitely something about wizards and
Quidditch. She had not seen Malfoy raise his voice in the seven years
they had attended school together, not even the time Buckbeak attacked
him. Apparently even the more refined pure-bloods lost their head when camecame to discussing their beloved sport.


“The yanks
haven’t provided serious competition in the International Quidditch in
over a century,” he finished shaking his head and laughing in disbelief.


George
grinned at his brother, a knowing smile passing between the two. “Of
course they haven’t Malfoy, but there’s another year and I have a
sneaking suspicion that some players who might have been involved in
questionable activity might decide to head over to the states.”


Hermione
frowned as shw thw the look of disbelief on Draco’s face morph into the
emotionless mask that he wore so often. Knowing that any discussion of
the war and Voldemort tended to be a sore subject with him, she
interrupted throwing her arms out to either side as she descended the
steps. “Enough! No more Quidditch talk.”


Harry licked his
lips as he finished chewing, following Hermione downstairs. Holding out
a wrapper, he offered Draco a piece of chocolate. “You’ve got to try
one of these Malfoy, they’re incredible.”


Draco, thankful
for the return of his classmates took the wrapper and popped the candy
in his mouth. His eyes widened as he resisted the urge to belch. He had
never had indigestion problems in his life, yet all of a sudden he felt
as if his stomach had filled with air.


“Potter! What… did…
you… give… me,” he growled, growing angrier as everyone began laughing
at him. “Don’t make me ask again,” he continued as it became apparent
no one seemed to feel the need to let them in on his joke.


He
took a step forward intending to grab George, who was nearest, by the
collar when he was propelled into the air. He raised his hands to
shield his head from the impact of the ceiling, but immediately was
propelled back to the ground upon contact.


Fred, George, and Ron howled as the collapsed on each other, a mass of red and freckles shaking in their amusement.


“Those
are brilliant,” Harry exclaimed as he laughed openly, his head
following Draco’s movements throughout the store as he rebounded off
the walls, floors and celing. “What’re they called?”


“Bouncing
bon-bons,” George answered as he swallowed his laughter and stood to
watch Draco with Harry. “They did turn out rather well didn’t they?”


“Filch
is going to be screaming mad when those make their way to Hogwarts,”
Hermione replied, struggling to maintain a straight face.


“Filch,”
Draco growled, “How long before…” he started pausing as the side of his
face impacted with a display case, propelling him up and towards the
front door. “the potion’s effects…” he continued, again impacting the
ceiling, “wear off?”


“What’s your hurry Malfoy,” Ron asked
as he gained his composure. “I find watching your acrobatics quite
entertaining.” He watched as Draco’s weightless body bounced across the
room before he broke out into another fit of laughter. Composing
himself long enough to add, “We should charge for this. ‘Weasleys’
Wizarding Wheezes presents the Amazing Bouncing Ferret’.”


At
that last statement all four Gryffindors came undone. The memory of
Draco being transformed into a ferret three years ago would have been
enough to bring almost anyone to laughter. But that, combined with the
image of Draco bouncing around the shop was too funny for anyone not to
laugh.


Hermione of course, was the first to calm down. “All
right, I think Malfoy has had enough. Fred, George, where’s the
antidote? And don’t bother to tell me you don’t have one, I know better
than that.”


Pouting as if Molly Weasley had just taken away
their broomsticks, Fred reached in his pocket and handed Hermione a
vial with a green potion in it. “Has anyone told you you’re a real kill
joy Hermione?”


Forcing a smile in his direction accompanied
by a curt thank you, Hermione turned back towards Draco, who had gotten
caught in the little hallway that led back to the store room.


Hermione
walked over to hand Draco the vial, but gasped as it fell from his grip
and nearly hit the floor. Luckily, Harry had followed behind her and
managed to catch it before it could break.


“You’re never
going to be able to get it to him in there,” Harry mused as Draco
bounced back and forth in the narrow passage way. “He is changing
direction too fast. “


Harry ducked beneath Malfoy and began
shoving him out of the narrow passage way until he finally bounced
across the shop, back across the open floor.


“But we can’t get it to him in here either,” Hermione complained as she chewed her lower lip.


“Give
me the vial Hermione,” George said walking up to the brunette and
holding out his hand. As he caught her wary look he repeated, “Give me
the vial.” When she didn’t show any chance of turning over the
antidote, he sighed.


“Look, the only way we’re going to
get that vial to Draco with any certainty is by tossing it to him. Fred
or I are the only one that will be able to anticipate where he’s going
to be with any accuracy and get the vial there. We did spend the last
five years or so knocking his housemates off their brooms with charmed
bludgers. I think we can handle this inanimate vial.”


“Give it to them already,” Draco grunted before he collided with the corner of a bookshelf on the far end of the shop.


When
the Draco finally took the antidote, he fell rather awkwardly down to
the floor with a grunt. Brushing himself off he, remained silent until
they left the shop, save the obligatory threat and promise of torture.


His face set, he followed the Gryffindors down the path towards Honeydukes as they recounted what they were now calling the Amazing Bouncing Ferret

incident. After satisfying himself by glaring at a couple of third year
Hufflepuffs as they gazed curiously at the unlikely foursome in
passing, Draco strode ahead of them, wanting to distance himself from
their incessant laughter.


Upon reaching Zonkos, Draco froze
as a wizard approached him. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled
as a sickingly familiar smell washed over him, Rookwood.


Fumbling nervously inside of his robes for his wand, panic overcame him as the tall wizard stopped before him. ‘He must be wearing a glamour,’ Draco thought as the unfamiliar face smiled down upon him.


“Master Malfoy, it is good to see that you have recovered.”


Draco
swallowed his fear as he looked up into the man’s cold brown eyes. “I
should think so. You were always meticulous in your healing.”


The
corners of the man’s mouth curved up intdecedeceptive smile. “So you
have not forgotten the care that I gave you. I must say that I am
pleasantly surprised that you recognize me. Unfortunately, the
aftermath of the war necessitates that I disguise myself,” he replied
quietly as Hermione, Ron, and Harry ran up behind Draco, their wands
drawn though held at their sides.


“Are you okay Draco,”
Hermione questioned. An eerie sense had come over her a moment ago and
when she looked up she saw Draco standing tense, his hand inside his
robes as if seeking his wand.


The man turned to Hermione and
smiled. “Such a lovely companion Draco, although I’m not so sure that
Lucius would approve of your choice in friends,” he smireyeieyeing the
scar upon Harry’s forehead.


“Given that someone saw fit to
alleviate him of earthly concerns, I’m not so sure that it matters,”
Harry retorted, raising his wand towards the man’s chest.


Rookwood’s
eyes flashed towards Harry and he opened his mouth as if to reply
before turning back to Draco suddenly. “It was good to see you again. I
imagine that we’ll cross paths again soon.”


“Was that him,”
Hermione questioned as she saw Draco’s shoulders relax and he withdrew
his hands from the pockets of his robes.


Lowering his wand when Rookwood was out of sight, Harry turned to Draco. “Who was he?”


Draco didn’t have a chance to respond before Professor Snape was upon them.


“Perhaps
you would care to explain Mr. Potter, why I saw you with your wand
aimed at another wizard while your two housemates had their wands drawn
at the ready,” Snape asked, his eyes burrowing into Harry with anger.


Hermione turned from Draco to look up at the Potions Master. “We thought that Draco had been…”


“Professor, Potter was simply trying to defend me. I had mistaken that wizard’s identity.”


Snape
looked back to Hermione before abruptly turning in the direction that
Rookwood had taken his leave. Unable to see anyone out of the ordinary,
he turned his attention back on Draco.


“Are you quite
certain that the Ministry need not be contacted Mr. Malfoy? You are
aware that Augustus Rookwood is still at large. I believe we are both
well aware that given his history it is not unlikely that he might make
an attempt to abduct you again?”


Aware that while HeadHead
of House was unlikely to believe his story, he would not continue to
interrogate him if he confirmed his story, Draco answered, “I am
certain sir.”


Sighing in relief as the Professor Snape took
his leave, Hermione walked beside Draco as Harry pulled a stunned Ron
ahead with him.


As they walked along in silence, Draco
considered the events that had taken place over the year and how they
made him feel; the anger he had felt towards Hermione for his father’s
arrest; the betrayal he felt by Lucius’s confessions; the despair he’d
felt when captured by Bellatrix and Rookwood; and finally the
helplessness he’d felt immediately following his rescue.


Looking
over at Hermione as she walked beside him, Draco felt peace. Only days
ago he felt as if he were alone in the world. Today, when his life was
in very real jeopardy, three individuals that he had tormented over the
past six years had rushed to his side prepared to fight for him.


“Hermione?”


Hermione
startled when Draco spoke her name. She knew that he didn’t mind her
company. It was something that she could feel just as surely as she
could feel the warmth of the sunshine upon her cheeks. He, however,
rarely broke their silence, preferring just to be in her company
without the interference of words that could lead to misunderstanding.


“Do you remember when we debated the Goblin Rebellion in thspitspital wing,” he continued.


She nodded her assent, wondering what would make him think of that at this time.


“I
believe that I can now appreciate your reasoning behind the Goblin’s
brutality,” he finished vaguely as his shoulder’s relaxed and an eerie
smile came across his lips.