The Winterscapes

The Winterscapes - Chapter Ten

"Maybe he has a girlfriend," Ron said.

"Maybe," replied Hermione. "But he knows we've been worried about him lately, so if he was only sneaking out to see some girl, don't you think he would tell us?"

"Not if it was Millicent Bulstrode," Ron shuddered.

"I don't think it's Millicent Bulstrode, and anyway, that's not very nice."

"Well as long as it's not Millicent Bulstrode."

"What if it's something to do with You-Know-Who?" she asked nervously.

"Don't be daft. He hasn't bothered Harry since fourth year. Why should he now?"

"You're the one who's daft. It's not like he's just forgotten about Harry now that he has his body back; of course he won't leave him alone forever. I thought he was just waiting for the right time, maybe when Harry leaves Hogwarts and Dumbledore isn't around to protect him, but with all the Muggle killings ..." Hermione trailed off.

"But if it was You-Know-Who, he would have told us. We've always helped him. Always."

One Wednesday, three weeks after Halloween, Harry missed Defense Against the Dark Arts class, though he didn't miss much, just Dagmar in a sunflower yellow robe and a roundtable discussion on why wizards might turn to the Dark Arts that surely wouldn't be covered in the exam. But then he didn't come to Herbology. Lavender, Seamus, and Sally Ann, among many others, kept asking Hermione and Ron where he was, but they didn't know what to say. Hermione just glanced at Ron and shrugged when Harry wasn't in Transfiguration at the start of class either. He showed up thirty minutes late, slipped in quietly, and sat down at his desk; McGonagall didn't give him a detention or even tell him that he better be on time next class period.

"Where were you?" Ron asked on the way back to the common room.

"Just ... in the Hospital Wing," said Harry.

"Are you okay now?" Hermione asked.

"Mmm hmm," Harry assured her.

That wasn't good enough for Hermione or Ron, so they confronted him the day after Gryffindor beat Hufflepuff in a very close Quidditch game, when they knew he would be in a good mood and more likely to talk. They sat in the chairs around the fire, the ones reserved for the sixth and seventh years, and leaned in so no one would overhear their conversation.

"Look Harry," Ron said. "We know you say you're fine, but we just want to make sure."

"And we'd like to know where you go when you disappear and don't tell anyone what you're doing," Hermione said. "Do you have a girlfriend? Are you sick? Is it your scar?"

Harry looked down. "It's nothing. Really--let it go."

Ron raked his hand through his hair. "You can't just say that. We're your friends, not your parents!"

Hermione gave Ron a sharp look. Stupid thing to say.

"I mean," Ron said. "Why can't you tell us? Obviously something's up."

"I said I'm not going to tell you. It's NOTHING! Anyway, just leave me alone," Harry insisted, and he got up and climbed through the portrait hole out of Gryffindor Tower.

"Harry!" Hermione called after him.

He looked back over his shoulder and yelled, "Stay out of it!" and he didn't come back to the common room until after supper.

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"Do you have your Charms textbook with you?" Hermione asked Draco.

He nodded and handed it to her. They had been studying intensively for their exams since the middle of November. Hermione thought that her life had turned into nothing but a cycle of classes, prefects' meetings, tense meals at the Gryffindor table, and afternoons spent studying in her and Draco's usual corner of the library. Studying was her favorite part of the cycle because she could lose herself in it--stop worrying about what she would get on her exams, her strained relationship with her two best friends, and the silly disagreements she had to sort out between the younger members of her house. If she tried to escape her problems in any other way, like taking a bath or playing with different charms that attempted to tame her messy curls, she felt guilty, but not when she was studying because she could believe that she was being useful and productive. And Draco was a pleasant study partner, she had to admit. He was taking all the same classes as she was, he kept his mouth shut unless he had something intelligent to say, and his textbooks were always in immaculate condition.

She felt peaceful, right at that moment. Peaceful, productive, and working next to someone whose company she was beginning to enjoy. Then Ron showed up. He looked out of place with his blazing hair, brighter than anything else in the quiet library, his long legs poking out of his slightly-too-small robes, and the impatient look on his face which was accented by his crossed arms and his tapping foot.

"Hermione, where have you been? Supper's in fifteen minutes, and you never helped me with Potions like you said you would do today!"

"Oh shit!" Hermione started shoving her books into her bag. "I'm really sorry, Ron. I forgot all about it; I just lost track of time. I'll help you after supper if you want, or we can skip supper and work on it now."

Ron glared alternately at Draco and Hermione. "You forgot to help me because you were studying with him?"

Draco shook his head and held up his hands in an I'm-very-innocent gesture. "She doesn't need me to forget about you, Weasley."

"Oh, shut up, Draco!" Hermione said exasperatedly.

"You're on a first name basis now, are you?" Ron asked, not too quietly.

Madam Pince marched over from her desk at the front of the library and threw Ron out. "I should give you detention for disturbing the Head Girl and Head Boy while they're studying!" she huffed.

Hermione ran after Ron and apologized to him a million times at supper until he relented and said that he wasn't mad at her.

<><><><><>

The first two weeks of December went by, as they always did, in a mad rush of exams and last minute essays. The Christmas holidays were approaching before Hermione knew it, and she felt normal and happy and excited. She was going home for Christmas to be with her mother, father, grandparents, and various sets of her parents' friends.

Ron and Ginny were having Christmas with the rest of their family at the Burrow. Harry was extended an invitation to both the Burrow and Hermione's home in Cambridgeshire, but he declined, saying that as so few students were staying at Hogwarts over the holidays, Dumbledore had arranged for Sirius and Remus to make a visit to the castle for two or three days in a row.

On the day before the train left Hogsmeade Station for King's Cross, all the third years and up bundled in their warmest cloaks and heating charms and walked down to Hogsmeade for one last purchase from Zonko's and one last butterbeer of the year.

Hermione hadn't had a chance to say goodbye to Draco once their studying was over and it was time to take the actual exams. They were both busy with their duties as Head Boy and Head Girl, and their classes and their own friends and housemates. Besides, Christmas break was only a few weeks long. It wasn't like she had to say goodbye because she would never see him again, so he might think it was weird if she went out of her way to talk to him. But for some reason, Hermione's heart felt very heavy at the idea of leaving for the Christmas holidays without saying goodbye to Draco, so she mumbled an excuse to the other seventh year Gryffindors about needing to buy one more present from Dervish and Banges before she left for home. Maybe, just maybe, if Draco did want to see her too, he would think of going there. Probably not, but it was worth a try.

She walked into the shop and scanned the room for Draco's slender form. She didn't see him, but she decided to look around for a few minutes to see if he showed up. She started in the front of the shop and walked passed the rows and tables of books, occasionally picking one up to flip through it, though none of them seemed as interesting as they usually did. Then she moved to the little bottles of ink. She held them up one by one to the light so she could see the colors: bright pink, grass green, deep red, and all different shades of blue. There were also quills: ridiculous ostrich feather ones, plain black ones made of crows' feathers, and some very pretty eagle feather ones. Finally she made her way passed the cauldrons and silver scales and the dragon-hide outerwear to the jars of potions ingredients lining the back wall of the shop.

After what seemed like at least half an hour, Hermione had seen everything there was to see in the store, and she felt silly standing around while the shopkeeper asked her if there was anything she needed help with every time he had a break between ringing up the other customers' purchases. She pushed open the shop door, walked back out onto the bustling street, and sighed. It was a stupid idea anyway. When she rounded the corner of Dervish and Banges, a gloved hand reached out and pulled her into the alleyway.

"There you are," he said, as he peered straight into her eyes. "What took you so long? I've been waiting, and I left Sara with Goyle. They're going to start to miss me soon." It was Draco Malfoy. His nose and his cheeks were pink from the cold, but the rest of his skin was pale. He was dressed all in Slytherin green, and Hermione noted that his eyes seemed grayer in the winter than they did the rest of the year.

"I was in the store," Hermione said. "If you thought we were going to meet, why didn't you come in?"

"I didn't think we were meeting, Granger, I just knew you would be here. Couldn't leave without saying goodbye, now could I?" His warm puffs of breath condensed in the air as he spoke.

He reached out with his left hand, cupped the back of her head, and leaned down to kiss her quickly on her slightly parted lips. Then he turned around and strolled out of the alleyway, leaving Hermione standing there shocked.

"Have a happy Christmas!" he called.

Hermione's jaw dropped and here eyebrows shot up. Oh, weird!