Their Room

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Chapter 4: Their Room

Draco sat in a far corner of the library his feet propped up on the desk in front of him, a book open in his lap. He had managed to give Crabbe and Goyle the slip by coming here. They had been simpering over him ever since they found out that the manticore hadn't finished him off. They were gratified when he told them that he didn't mind that they left him to die. And in their turn, they believed his story of fighting the beast off single handedly. Their sycophantic nature did start to wear on his nerves though, and needing a break from their constant apologies, he had darted into the library, a place that he knew they wouldn't follow. He didn't really hold them responsible for running off on him though, he probably would have, that's one good reason to not have true friends, no responsibilities to them. He had decided that since he was in the library, he ought to take advantage of this opportunity to look into manticores. The table in front of him was now covered in every book that he could find that mentioned them. The large tome that he held casually contained a great deal of information on the beasts. He had to admit that they were quite extraordinary. Draco turned a page and began to read.

"The manticore, a fierce and deadly beast, is known to inhabit Greece and the surrounding islands. Some have been known to migrate farther south into the Middle East; however, their progress westward into Africa was halted by the presence of the sphinxes in Egypt. (Manticores and sphinxes have long been natural enemies.) There are no living manticores in England, their ferocious nature, powerful magic, and taste for human flesh has made it illegal to own one in the British Isles."

At this passage Draco paused and then chuckled mirthlessly to himself, "there is one now."

"Manticores possess a strange type of magic that allows it to sooth it's would be prey into a state of docility. The creature is able to sense what its prey wants and then emanates those feelings and thoughts to the prey. (They are very similar to the Boggart in this aspect of telepathy. For further Boggart information: pg. 120.)"

Draco stopped here, realization forming in his mind. In the past several days since the incident, he had tried to understand what had made him open the cage. He had known perfectly well what it was and what it was capable of. But as he had looked into it's eyes, he had felt peace. He had been lulled into an unnatural fit of trust simply because that monster could see what he wanted. But the feelings that it had shown him were those of warmth and friendship, he didn't care about such laughable things. Draco wanted power. Draco considered that to be the one redeemable quality of the Dark Lord, he had power, and Draco could respect that.

Draco had become deeply immersed in the book when he became aware of someone moving slowly through the aisles near his table. He raised his eyes from the pages before him to watch the figure through the shelves. The figure paused at the section where he had gotten the books on manticores, with a sinking feeling, Draco knew who it was. Granger emerged from the aisle looking slightly putout.

"Looking for these Mudblood?" Draco drawled and gestured to the books in front of him.

Granger gave him a dark look, "No, I was just waiting for Professor Vector."

Malfoy casually looked at his watch. "An hour and a half early? I hadn't realized that you actually lived in the library. But then again, I'm sure that almost anywhere would be preferable to a common room full of Gryffindors."

"You were here first," Granger said simply.

Draco looked at her, she was refusing to rise to his taunts, which was somewhat of a shame, fighting with Granger was fairly entertaining. But now as he studied her, he noticed how tired she looked. Her normally warm, brown eyes seemed somewhat dull, defeated.

"Here," Draco marked his place and then extended the book to her.

Granger looked at him suspiciously and then reached out to it, but paused before taking the text.

"Granger, I don't hex library books." He was starting to find this amusing once he had gotten over his initial shock of actually offering the book to her. And even more surprising, he felt himself start to grin.

Granger's eyes widened in surprise but she did take the book from him.

"Thanks," she muttered and walked away. She paused before disappearing back between the shelves to give him a confused look and then she was gone.

Through the large arched windows, Draco could see the sky darkening; the few remaining rays from the once vivid sunset were now melting into twilight. With a glance at his watch he knew that it was time to go find Professor Vector. He stood up slowly and brushed his silvery gold hair back from his face and started out through the aisles. He took a sharp turn around one rather prominent shelf and walked right into someone.

"Watch it," he hissed as he caught himself before he could trip.

"Why don't you?" Said an unpleasantly familiar voice.

"Mudblood," Draco hissed and looked down.

Granger had been unsuccessful in her attempt to maintain balance and was now splayed out on the floor in front of him. Strands of curly hair had pulled loose from her ponytail and were framing her annoyed face. She pulled herself to her feet and then slipped her book bag up onto her shoulder. Draco noticed that she flinched when she did this. He wondered briefly if the pain was from the manticore attack, Madame Pomfrey had been able to heal him fairly easily. He wondered why she had saved him when she could have so easily been killed as well. And not for the last time he wondered what did she want in return? But Granger said nothing, only put a book back onto a near-by shelf before giving him a disgruntled glare. Turning on her heel she left to go find the Professor. Draco had little choice but to follow her.

Professor Vector was standing near Madame Pince's desk looking excited. She smiled warmly when she saw them and walked quickly over to them. Draco noticed right away that she was a bit more dressed up than usual, and that a small waft of perfume emanated from her.

"Oh good, you're both on time. Come quickly and I'll explain while we walk. I don't have much time." The professor once again beamed at them both. Draco simply glowered at her, her enthusiasm often made him feel a little nauseous. "Now" she started as Draco and Granger struggled to keep up with her increasing gait, "you're going to be using a small ante-chamber in the library. You'll both be given keys for it, and it will be for your use only. It will be much easier for you both to get your work done if there isn't an influx of people there and this way you will always have a quiet place to work on it. Ahh, here we are."

Professor Vector had led them to the back of the library and up a small spiral staircase that led to a walkway that had several closed doors down it. Draco noticed with a smirk that Granger seemed slightly out of breath, they had practically ran here, but his pulse rate wasn't even up. Professor Vector stopped at the second door on the walkway, pulled out a key ring, and fitted a small silver key into the lock. The door opened and Draco had to use all of the skills that Lucius taught him to not look surprised, or impressed. The room was larger than he had expected. Windows bordered the far wall and a fireplace was already roaring merrily away. There was a large table and several chairs. Even though the room was rather large, there was hardly room to walk around in it. Piled everywhere were large crates and old trunks. One had been opened to reveal that it was full of ancient looking parchment rolls and thick books with peeling covers and binds tied with string.

"Now, as I had explained earlier, these writings all belong to a wizard that lived approximately five hundred years ago. I say approximately because no one knows for sure. There were rumors for a long time about a wizard that lived like a monk in some part of the Irish wilderness. I don't know how Professor Dumbledore managed to locate all of this, but here we are. The wizard's name was Gregorius O'Leary." Professor Vector swept around the room checking boxes as she talked. "Most of these texts deal with Arithmancy and how it affects people. From what Dumbledore has told me, this wizard believed that the number pattern that is the foundation of Arithmancy is also the foundation for most magic. He spent most of his life making records of Arithmantic patterns."

Draco glanced at Granger who had come forward a few steps into the room; her eyes that had seemed tired earlier were now alight with excitement. Her hands were clasped tightly together and she was looking around the room trying to take in as much as possible. Granger had no skill at all in hiding her emotion. Draco made a soft derisive noise that she ignored. Draco was itching to tear into a crate and see what he could find, but he calmly stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, an expression of mild boredom furrowing his brow.

Professor Vector glanced at a small watch that she was wearing and then started talking again, this time a little faster. "What you're supposed to do is go through his writings and study his findings, see if there is any real connection between the base Arithmancy pattern and anything else. You'll be allowed access to the restricted section because the Headmaster believes that it might prove useful to your work somehow. You'll have to make weekly progress reports and please, try to stay out of trouble. The Headmaster and I are placing a great deal of responsibility on the two of you." She glanced nervously at her watch again and then looked at herself in the glass of one of the windows. Draco could swear that she was checking her make-up. "Well, that about does it, if you have any questions, feel free to ask me tomorrow. I really must be going now, here are your keys, and good luck!" And with that Professor Vector practically ran out of the room.

Granger was unable to contain herself any longer; she darted forward to the open box and kneeled by it, her eyes wide with excitement. Draco could hear her mutter, "Amazing!" to herself.

Draco looked back through the door; he could see most of the library from up above like this. He took another look and could see Professor Vector rushing out the doors. He closed the door and strolled into the room coming to stand next to Granger who was lifting out an old scroll with a great show of reverence.

"It's not your first born Granger, although that is a scary thought, you're face, Weasley's hair." Draco grimaced at her but she was smiling when she looked up at him, she was dripping with delight.

"Look at this Malfoy, it's amazing." She held the scroll out to him and for a second Draco realized what it would be like to have her as friend. Granger was practically glowing at Draco as she held it out for him to take.

"I don't want it, it's been soiled by your touch." He growled at her, finding himself uncomfortable with the way she had just looked at him. Her delight seemed to fade slightly and she lowered the scroll that Draco was dying to look at. She said nothing to him for quite some time.

Granger pulled open a few other crates and rummaged around their contents while Draco did the same. He eventually decided to start with a few old tomes with dark red bindings while Granger had a pile of scrolls on the table in front of her. They worked quietly, taking notes and plotting points. Granger was the first to break the silence.

"Look, we're going to be spending a lot of time here together. And I'm not about to give up this chance just to avoid you." Granger started to roll up the scroll that she had just gone through which contained a great deal of information on the reproduction cycle of flobberworms when contrasted with the number nine.

"And your point would be what Mudblood?" He asked her not looking up.

"We should have some sort of truce." Surprised by these words, Draco glanced up and met Granger's eyes. He briefly wondered how her eyes could have so many different shades of brown in them.

"A truce?" Draco repeated as he mused over his last though, deciding that he didn't care how many shades of brown the Mudblood had in her eyes.

"Yeah, a truce. You know, a white flag, we lay down our arms." Granger unrolled another scroll and immediately began to take notes. "This will go easier if we work together."

"Work together? Draco Malfoy work together with Mudblood Granger? Are you insane?" Even as he said these words he knew that she was right. Their work would go much smoother if they weren't constantly at each other's throats.

Granger stopped working to watch him mull this idea over. "I don't want to be constantly worried that you're going to hex me." She told him, "I find it distracting when I have to constantly watch you."

"Why Granger, you watch me? I didn't know you cared." Draco gave her his best smirk; Granger only rolled her eyes. "Fine, we'll have a truce. I swear that when we're in this room, I won't hex you. Will that do?"

Granger seemed to consider this and finally nodded.

"Of course, outside of this room, there is no truce." He told her firmly expecting some sort of argument, but Granger just nodded agreeably at him.

"I wouldn't have it any other way Malfoy."

"Well since we're being all peaceful-like, I have a question for you Granger." Draco closed the book that he was going through and set it down. "What exactly happened the other night?"

"I...I saw you from the window and I followed, to warn Hagrid. When it attacked I..." Granger paused here and looked away from Draco, "I stunned it and then managed to wake you up and get you to the castle."

"Where were you? We didn't see you." Malfoy was staring at her now, picking up on every little thing that she did, the way her eyes darted around the room avoiding his gaze, the way that she kept playing with a strand of her hair, the way she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It all told him something very important; she was hiding something.

"I was invisible," she muttered.

"How could you have been invisible? Invisibility charms are very advanced, even for know-it-all Granger. You being capable of performing an invisibility charm is almost as unlikely as you having an invisibility cloak." Draco smirked at her but found that she was now decidedly not looking at him. "You have an invisibility cloak?"

"N...no I don't have one." She answered and he could tell that she wasn't lying, but she wasn't being entirely truthful either. And then he understood. She didn't have one, but someone else did. There wasn't any way that Weasley could afford an invisibility cloak so it must be...

"Potter, it's Potter's cloak." He said matter-a-factly and then smiled inwardly. That was definitely something interesting to know. "But why did you save me?"

"Nobody deserves to die like that." She muttered and started to read her scroll again.

Draco leaned across the table and snatched it out of her hands. She looked up angrily and met his eyes. "Not even me Granger?"

"No, not even you Malfoy." Her brown eyes flashed at him and he felt that she could be dangerous if she ever got angry enough. She leaned across the table to take the scroll back from him when he reached forward and grabbed her arm. "Let me go Malfoy!" She yelled at him, trying to pull away.

"Why haven't you told anyone that truth? Why didn't you rat me out?" He leaned towards her; this question had been weighing on his mind since it happened. He didn't want her to have any control over him; he needed to know what could have possessed her to protect him.

"I just didn't want to tell, that's all, now let me go." She struggled more furiously against him, but Draco held on. He knew that if he let her go she would bolt for the door. He found himself holding her arm more gently than he had before in the hospital wing, some tiny part of him didn't want to hurt her.

"I don't believe you. I know that you and your merry men would give anything to have me thrown out of Hogwarts. What could possibly stop you?" He leaned closer to her, their faces only a few inches away from each other; he looked into her eyes trying to find the answer. And then he saw it, guilt. "You feel guilty?" He asked, surprised, why in the world would she feel guilty.

Granger seemed to lose her glow and once again she looked very tired. She stopped fighting his hold and stayed still. "I...I was going to leave you." Draco's eyes widened. "I was going to let you die. I turned to go, to run, but I'm not like that. I don't know who that was in me that wanted to let you die. But nobody deserves that." Her voice died down to a low murmur and then stopped.

She was now looking at him with an expression that shocked him. Her eyes seemed to be asking forgiveness. She looked only a few more words away from tears. This wasn't the Mudblood Granger that he was familiar with. She suddenly seemed to become aware of how close he was to her and she jerked back. He let go and she sat down. Draco just sat and stared at her, he wasn't quite sure how to handle her at the moment, it was much easier when they were insulting each other. But before the silence could get too oppressive, she started to pack up her bag. She slipped her little silver key into her pocket and then walked to the door. She cast one last glance at Draco before she darted out the door. Draco rose to his feet and went out onto the walkway; he could see her curly head disappear out through the main doors.

"Well," he whispered to himself, "that was certainly interesting."

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Hermione sagged against a wall and took a deep breath. "Why in the world did I tell him that?" She asked herself.

When Malfoy looked at her that way, with those gray eyes that seemed to darken with his mood, she was unable to lie. She had told him what she hadn't told anyone else, she had almost let him die, done something that she would think only dark wizards would do. And now Malfoy knew.

Hermione let her bag drop to the ground and then sank to sit besides it. She let her dark hair fall into her face as she pulled her knees up and let her forehead rest against them. Things would be perfect right now if it wasn't for him. The little that she had accomplished in the library that evening had been very interesting. Hermione knew that she could easily lose herself up in that room. She loved Arithmancy; it was so ordered and structured. But no, how could she lose herself with Malfoy glaring at her? It made her so angry to think about him, that smug look, that malicious smirk. All he did was make trouble.

"And he thinks that he's handsome just because his eyes sparkle sometimes." Hermione grumbled and then stopped, "What am I thinking? If his eyes sparkle it's only because he's thinking something evil."

"Hermione? What're you doing?"

Hermione jerked up to find Dean Thomas staring down at her.

"Hello Dean," she said smiling at him.

"Are you all right Hermione?" Dean looked fairly concerned about finding the young Gryffindor alone in a dark corridor.

"I'm fine, just thinking about how much I hate Malfoy." Hermione glared around at nothing in particular.

"Oh, and here I thought that something was bothering you." Dean broke out in a large, easy grin. "Now if you didn't hate Malfoy, then we'd start to worry."

Hermione felt herself relax and she took the hand that Dean offered her. He easily pulled her to her feet.

They walked back to the Gryffindor common room together. As they leisurely strolled along, Hermione spoke non-stop about what Malfoy and her were doing up in the little chamber off the library. They stepped threw the portrait hole and the image of Malfoy's face faded completely from Hermione's mind. She had always found the common room to be warm and soothing, at least, when it wasn't being used for as a testing zone for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The evening's Quidditch practice had obviously just come to an end because the whole of Gryffindor's team was standing near the doorway, covered head to foot in mud, and discussing strategy. Hermione waved at Ron and Harry, stifled a yawn, and then started up to the girl's dormitory. Lavendar and Parvarti were whispering merrily to each other over a divination book entitled Palmistry of Love, Hermione shrugged her shoulders and stowed books under her bed. She pulled on her pajamas and crawled thankfully into bed. Her last thought before sleep claimed her was "I hate Draco Malfoy."

"C'mon Hermione, how long does it take you to eat a bowl of porridge anyway?" Ron was impatiently pushing a few raisins around his plate with a fork.

"Well it is Saturday. I'm not exactly in a rush you know." Hermione told him as she refilled her glass of pumpkin juice. As she told him this, the owls swept in through the high windows. As usual, a brown owl deposited the Daily Prophet in front of Hermione. But before the first owl could take off again, another owl had landed next to it. This owl was a little larger than the delivery owl and a grayish color. A letter was tied to the foot that it extended over Hermione's bowl.

"Who's that from Hermione?" Harry asked as he watched Hedwig who flew down to deposit a note from Hagrid into his lap.

Hermione looked up in time to notice Malfoy's eagle owl land at the Slytherin table. "It's from Viktor." She told them.

Ron's face suffused with color at the mention of the Quidditch player's name. "What's that git still sending you letters for? I thought you told him that you just wanted to be friends."

"I did tell him that I just wanted to be friends, and we are friends, which is why he sends me letters. Really Ron, I thought that you would have gotten past this by now." Hermione slipped the letter into her bag to save for later. There was no point in further antagonizing Ron by reading it here.

"Are you two ready? Hagrid wants us to come down for a visit." Harry told them as Hedwig flew off with the other owls. Ron turned to Hermione to see if she was done eating.

"You two go on, I'm going to the library for a bit." She told them as she tore into a piece of toast.

"The library? Hermione, it's the weekend!" Ron told her in a plaintive voice.

"Well I want to go now so that I can avoid Malfoy." She told them.

"How do you know that Malfoy won't be there now?" Ron asked her.

"I know that Malfoy won't be there because you and Harry were just complaining about how you two can't play Quidditch this morning because the Slytherins reserved the field for practice, he is their seeker in case you have forgotten." She took a drink of juice and pushed her bowl away from her.

"Well, we'll see you for lunch then I suppose," Harry told her as he and Ron stood up. "And watch out for Malfoy!" He said with a grin.

Hermione sat up in the room in the library. She had opened several different crates that morning. Each seemed to contain charts and scrolls from different years. She looked through these for quite some time before she finally stopped and started to work. Every once in a while she would get up to go look out the window, from here she could see the Quidditch field. Glancing at her watch, Hermione decided to check to make sure that Malfoy was still out on the field. Sure enough, various broom-seated figures were shooting around the field, and one of them had a shock of white-gold hair. Hermione paused and watched for a moment. She had to admit that Malfoy was a decent Seeker, nothing like Harry of course, but he probably wouldn't have needed to buy his way onto the team.

Hermione opened a window and then sat back down at the table. She opened a scroll and found that it wasn't nearly as interesting as the previous ones had been. This scroll had more to do with divination than with Arithmancy. Hermione yawned and pulled out her quill and settled herself more comfortably in the squishy chair that she had pulled over to the table from the fireplace. Unfortunately, she had made herself a bit too comfortable, and when the quill fell out of her hand and her head came to rest against her folded arms on the table in front of her, she didn't even notice.

"Granger."

Distantly Hermione heard a soft voice. There was a light touch to her cheek and the whisper sounded again.

"Granger."

Hermione breathed in a little deeper and wondered why Lavendar and Parvarti couldn't keep their voices down in the dorm. She felt a soft puff of breath against her cheek and she raised her hand to pet Crookshanks, but instead of fur her hand touched something smooth and cool. The voice, which was becoming clearer as she slowly woke up, repeated again.

"Granger."

Her hand was still pressed up against the smooth surface of what wasn't Crookshanks. Hermione blinked open her eyes and yanked her hand back as if burned with a small cry of shock. Her hand had been resting against Malfoy's cheek. He was kneeling next to her chair, his face only a few inches from her own. Hermione shoved her chair back hard and it began to tip. She only had a moment to realize that it was going over when Malfoy's hand caught hers and he pulled her forward again. He pulled her right out of her chair and she stumbled onto her knees next to him.

"You're awfully clumsy Granger. Tell me, is that because you're a mudblood or is it a Gryffindor thing?" He smirked at her and let go of her hand.

"I thought we had a truce Malfoy!" Hermione snapped as she got quickly to her feet.

"What, have you been hexed?" He asked her innocently as she stood up as well.

Hermione looked around the room at her books and then she held up her arms and examined then looking for some telltale sign of magic, but there was nothing.

"It did take all of my resolve to not curse you, of course, but I do keep my promises. I am a Malfoy after all." He walked around the table and sat down.

"And that counts for so much. Death Eaters are known for their truthful ways aren't they?" Hermione pulled her chair back up and started to pack up her bag. Her face was flushed and she felt rather embarrassed about Malfoy finding her asleep.

"I'm not a Death Eater." Malfoy said quietly. His voice was so firm that Hermione looked up at him surprised. His voice seemed filled with deep resolve and he had a far away look in his slate eyes.

"But your father..." Hermione started only to be cut off by Malfoy who stood up angrily.

"I never said anything about my father. Don't they train you goody-two-shoes not to judge people by their parents?" He came around the table to stand in front of her. All of the amusement that he had felt earlier was gone.

"I've never judged you because of your parents, I've judged you because you are an ill-tempered prat!" Hermione turned to face Malfoy straight on.

"You take that back Mudblood!" Malfoy growled savagely as he stood before her, his gray eyes seemed to darken as Hermione met them with her amber ones.

"I will not." Hermione glowered at him and then turned and walked to the door. She stopped before leaving though and turned back to him a slight frown on her face. "You're really not a Death Eater?"

He glared at her silently and she thought that he wasn't going to answer her, but as she walked through the door she could hear him call out behind her.

"No Granger, I'm not."