Reappraisals

Chapter Two

Ron was still slightly apprehensive over his best friend and previous archenemy snogging down on the Quidditch pitch.

"I don't know why you wanted to get those two together," he grumbled to Hermione.

"I told you, Ron," she replied. "They've been shooting each other these... looks for ages now. Draco clearly has a crush on Harry, and Harry was definitely reciprocating Draco's feelings. It was the least I could do to get them together."

"Yes, but what does that have to do with me?" Ron asked.

"Well..." Hermione said, grinning. "Can you imagine if I set them up before you were friends with Draco, your reaction?"

"Hermione, I am not friends with Draco!" Ron cried.

"Then why did you just call him Draco, and not Malfoy?" Hermione smirked.

"That - I - oh, be quiet, Hermione," Ron replied, flustered. She just giggled and gave him a bear hug.

"You're so cute when you're lost for words, Ron," she teased. Ron growled near her ear and made a snapping noise.

The portrait hole opened. Harry stepped in, looking flushed and dishevelled.

Everyone turned to him, grinning.

"Hello, Harry," they chorused.

"You're looking thoroughly snogged there," came a voice from the group of people, probably Seamus.

A few people tittered, and Harry blanched.

"Wh-what do you mean?" he asked.

Hermione took pity on him and walked over.

"We saw you and Draco," she explained.

"Nice show, too! Do you think you can repeat it every night?"

"Better than television!"

"Shush, you two," Hermione said, admonishing Seamus and Dean.

"Sorry, Ms. Head Girl," Seamus replied cheekily. "Come on, off to bed with all of us."

Most of the Gryffindors left awake mumbled their goodnights and walked up the stairs to their dormitories, Hermione, Harry and Ron exceptions.

Harry looked at Ron nervously.

"You didn't see, did you?" he asked.

"'Course I did!" Ron scoffed. "We were using my Omnioculars!"

"You what?!"

"Er..." Ron said, looking desperately at his girlfriend.

"Don't worry, Harry," she reassured him. "Everyone knew already."

"What?!"

"What I mean to say," Hermione said hastily. "Everyone had seen the looks you and Draco were giving each other, and we knew that you had to figure it out eventually, so we just gave you a...push in the right direction, is all."

"Oh, Merlin," Harry moaned, his face bright red. "This is so embarrassing!"

"No, it's not," Hermione said. "Didn't you notice my attempts to get the senior Gryffindors and Draco reconciled?"

"Of course I did!" Harry said. "How could I miss Draco being all chummy with you lot all of a sudden?"

"Oh, Harry, don't be upset," Hermione said anxiously. "We were only trying to help."

"I know, 'Mione," Harry replied, softening. "It's just a bit...strange to have everyone setting me up with Draco, and knowing about things like that before me, you know?"

"We're sorry," said Hermione sincerely. "But you have to admit, it was a good plan!"

Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Wait," he said fearfully. "Did Lavender and Parvati see?"

"Yes," Ron replied, looking relieved that Harry wasn't going to go off at them.

"Oh, no!" Harry moaned.

"Oh, dear Lord," Hermione said, white. "I'll go talk to them now, Harry."

And with that, she dashed off up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

Ron turned to Harry, a look of confusion on his freckled face.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

"Surely you know that Lavender and Parvati are the biggest gossips in the school?"

"So they are," Ron replied.

Harry laughed suddenly.

"I wondered how you could forget, what with the whole school knowing you snogged Hermione the night of the Halloween feast by breakfast on the first of November..." he said, snickering.

Ron turned a delicate shade of pink.

"Shut up," he grumbled.

"Sorry," Harry replied, grinning.

"It's alright," Hermione said breathlessly, coming partially back down the stairs. "I've made them swear not to tell anyone."

"How did you manage to do that?" Ron asked curiously, forgetting his embarrassment.

Hermione smirked. "Surely you've heard of girl talk? You know, telling your friends all of your deepest and darkest secrets?"

"Hermione, you didn't!" Harry gasped.

"I did," she laughed. "Don't look so shocked, Ron."

"You..." Ron said.

"Goodnight, Harry, Ron," Hermione said, blowing a kiss to Ron. She turned and walked back up to her room - being Head Girl, she had her own private quarters, including bathroom.

Harry and Ron followed her, going to the boy's dormitory. Seamus, Neville and Dean were all obviously feigning sleep.

The two boys grinned at each other, but left the others to 'sleep' as they changed into their pyjamas and went to bed.

_

"So, Harry, what are you going to do about Draco?" Hermione asked as they made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"What do you mean, what am I going to do? Harry replied.

"Well, are you going to declare your love for him by standing on the Gryffindor table and shouting it out at the top of your lungs?" she asked with a perfectly straight face.

"Hermione, you can't be serious," Harry said, staring at her.

She burst out laughing.

"Of course I'm not, Harry!&rquo; she said. "You're so gullible."

"Oh," Harry said.

"What I mean," Hermione said, still smiling, "is that are you going to talk to him or something?"

"Well, obviously," Harry said. "He had to go last night, we didn't get a chance to."

"Why did he have to go?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"Go where?" a new voice asked. Hermione whirled around.

"Draco, do you have some kind of homing device that zeroes you in on whoever's talking about you?" she demanded.

Draco grinned and slung an arm around her waist.

"Wouldn't put it past me, would you?"

"I think someone would be insane to put anything past you, Malfoy," Ron said, adopting the Slytherin's old drawl.

"Oh, sod off, Ron," Draco replied amicably. "Good morning, Harry. You're looking particularly ravishing this morning."

Harry flushed and looked down at the floor.

"Good morning, Draco," he mumbled in reply.

"How come

"Good morning, Draco," he mumbled in reply.

"How come you can't call me Draco, but he can?" said the blonde boy to the redhead.

"I - what?" asked Ron, looking thoroughly confused.

"Well, Harry here - " Draco put his free hand on Harry's shoulder " - manages to address me with my given name after only one - fantastic, I must add - snog last night, yet you, after being friendly with me for over a week still calls me Malfoy?"

"Oh, he doesn't always," Hermione interjected. "Last night, we were talking about you, and he referred to you as Draco."

"Once!" Ron retorted. "It was due to...temporary insanity."

"Temporary, you say?" Draco smirked.

"Shut up, you," Ron muttered.

"Why are you lot making such a big fuss over who calls Draco what?" Seamus asked, coming up behind the four.

"We're not!" Ron cried indignantly. "Can we please go and have breakfast?"

"Ron, all you ever think about is food," Hermione scolded as they reached Gryffindor table and seated themselves. "I think you have quite an unhealthy fixation with it. Are you going to sit with us, Draco?"

He looked over at the Slytherin table and saw those few early risers shooting daggers at him for even associating with the "Dream Team", as they were oh-so-affectionately known in the dungeons. Smirking to himself, he winked suggestively at one of them and ran his hand lightly over Harry's back, leaving it to rest in the hollow.

"Sure, why not?" he replied, sitting down between Hermione and Harry. "Sleep well, everyone?"

He seemed to realise that the Gryffindors all new about what had happened last night between him and Harry, though for the life of him, Draco couldn't figure out how.

"I had a really interesting dream," Neville said, drenching his scrambled eggs and bacon in tomato sauce. "Professor Trelawney was wearing bright pink robes with a lime green hat, and she was snogging Professor Snape down in the Potions classroom on his desk..."

Said Professor Snape conveniently overheard this conversation and seemed to actually blush as he took five points from Gryffindor for putting unseemly amounts of tomato sauce on his meal.

"Draco, what are you doing?" he asked, noticing for the first time the silver-blonde head amongst the other brown and black ones.

"Shopping, Professor," Draco replied, an angelic expression on his face.

"Very amusing," Snape retorted dryly. "You know full well what I meant."

"I am currently sitting at the breakfast table, irritatingly delayed from indulging in what looks to be another exemplary Hogwarts meal by everyone's favourite Potions master."

Severus just rolled his eyes and continued on his way to the teacher's table.

"How do you get away with talking to him like that?" Harry asked, amazed.

"Why do you sound like you just swallowed a dictionary?" Ron asked, suspicious.

"Since when do you sit with Gryffindors?"

The last question came from none other than Pansy Parkinson, standing with her little horde of Slytherin girls displayed behind her.

Draco turned and stood, smiling.

"Pansy, don't bother to try and pull that 'impressive' stance with your girls on me. I know you practise it down in the Slytherin common rooms, along with your nasty looks and what you think are acidic comments."

This comment brought muffled snickers from all those seated behind Draco. Pansy flushed, but kept her composure.

"Answer my question," she said.

Draco regarded her coolly.

"I am sitting with Gryffindors because I don't wish to join you and the rest of my classmates at the Slytherin table. Do you have a problem with that?" he said, pronouncing each syllable perfectly, sounding extremely intimidating and (Harry thought) undeniably sexy.

"Perhaps I do," Pansy reciprocated. "Doesn't it bother you in the least that everyone in your house thinks you're a traitor?"

"Not in the least," Draco replied cheerfully.

"It figures," Pansy said.

"Say, Pansy," Draco said conversationally. "What's your opinion on half-bloods?"

"You know what my opinion is, Malfoy."

"Why don't you reiterate, for the benefit of the company?"

"Heaven knows they need it," she smirked.

"What would you know about heaven, Pansy dear?" Draco asked.

She sent him a venomous look but ignored the barb.

"I believe half-bloods are disgustingly impure and should not be allowed the privilege of learning the art of magic," Pansy said victoriously, shooting a look at Seamus.

"What would you say, then, if I told you that Voldemort - " collective intake of breath " - was a half-blood, with a Muggle father?"

A stunned shock followed in the wake of this fact.

"He was not," Pansy finally replied.

"Oh, but he was," Draco smirked. "I advise you to seriously rethink all the attitudes and outlooks your parents have been feeding you for seventeen years and decide which side is going to triumph in the war.

"Now, I have already missed out on most of my breakfast. If you don't mind?"

Draco sat back down and began calmly eating again. Bewildered Pansy and her clique turned and stormed off to the Slytherin table, evidently to discuss what had happened.

At the Gryffindor table, everyone within hearing distance was staring at Draco, amazed.

"What?" he asked exasperatedly, looking up from his meal.

"It's just..." Hermione began.

"Incredibly astonishing that Draco Malfoy stood up for half-bloods to his Slytherin housemates?" Draco finished, amused.

"Pretty much, yes," she replied. "And the fact that you do sound like you've swallowed a dictionary."

"Oh? How?" he asked, leaning back in his seat.

"Come off it, Draco," Harry said. "You know you're intelligent, witty and..."

"Goddamn sexy?" he murmured to Harry's ear, and noticed that the owner of the ear turned a light shade of red at his connotation.

"Well, you were using words that I'd never hear from Ron, or Dean," Hermione offered as an explanation.

"Hey!" Ron cried.

Everyone ignored him.

"For example, acidic, and reiterate," Hermione went on.

Draco shrugged and continued to eat.

Once he had finished, he announced that he again had to go and see Severus. No one asked why, but he squeezed Harry's leg gently just before he left.

Catching the intention, Harry also mumbled an excuse a few moments after Draco and left the Great Hall.

"Honestly," Dean said, smiling after him. "Anyone would think we're stupid."

Draco was reading one of the plaques below a marble statue. He looked up, however, when he heard footsteps.

"Draco?" Harry asked.

"Yes?" Draco replied, just to see the look of confusion on the other boy's face.

"Oh, I thought..." Harry trailed off. Draco laughed delightedly.

"You're so cute," he teased, covering the floor between them quickly.

"You're so evil," Harry grumbled, grasping Draco's hand and running his thumb lightly over it.

"And you love it," Draco grinned, fitting his mouth to the Gryffindor's carefully.

"Mmm..." replied Harry, responding to the kiss eagerly.

Before either of them could get too hot and bothered, though, Draco broke off and smiled at Harry.

"So?" he asked.

"So what?" Harry asked, clearly confused.

"Well, aren't you the personification of omniscience," Draco drawled.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I would have thought that hanging around with Hermione for seven years would've taught you something," said Draco thoughtfully. "Obviously not. Personification is a characteristic in material form, and omniscient means you know everything."

"I know that," Harry replied impatiently. "You just said it really fast."

Draco grinned and brushed a quick kiss across Harry's lips.

"You're adorable," he told Harry.

"What did you mean?"

"What do you mean, what did I mean?"

"Stop it!" Harry cried. "You're being deliberately obtuse."

"Only because you're sexy when you pout."

"Look who's talking."

"My, my, Potter, did you just say I'm sexy?"

"What if I did?"

"You two are very strange," Ron's voice informed them.

"Not as strange as you, Ronniekins," Draco called, not turning away from Harry.

"Now, now," Hermione said, sounding amused. "Play nicely, boys."

"I don't play nicely," Draco replied, his eyes still locked on Harry's as a slow smirk passed across his features.

"We all know that, don't we?"

Draco poked his tongue out at Seamus and sent Harry into hysterics.

"What's wrong with him?" Draco asked Hermione, sounding concerned. However, the witch was too busy indulging in her own gales of laughter.

"What's wrong with both of you?"

Harry had calmed down enough to answer.

"You look absolutely hilarious when you pout, sulk, stamp your foot and poke your tongue out at people," he said.

"I do not pout, sulk or stamp my foot!" Draco said indignantly. "Well...maybe pout."

Everyone in the company snickered, bar Draco.

"You Gryffindors are so horrible," he said.

"Oh, you know we love you, Draco dear," Hermione replied, putting her arm around his shoulders. Draco stiffened visibly, although not from the girl's contact.

"Zabini, MacNair," he said, nodding his head to the two Slytherins that had just left the Great Hall.

"Well, well, well," Blaise drawled. "How interesting. The prince of Slytherin being molested by a Mudblood Gryffindor."

"She is not molesting me, Zabini," Draco drawled right back. "Not that you would know what molesting is. Still got your virginity intact, no doubt?"

The other boy's cheeks reddened slightly.

"Shut up, Malfoy," he spat. "I want to have a word with you."

"Go ahead," Draco replied.

"Alone," Blaise said.

"Anything you need to say to me can be said in front of the present company or not at all. Now, spill it. What do you want?"

"I want to know why you are suddenly acting so friendly towards these Gryffindors, why you are completely ignoring your housemates, and why you're spying on the Death Eaters."

"On second thoughts, Zabini, come with me," Draco said, shrugging off Hermione's arm and moving away from the other group. The others watched the two converse quietly with great curiosity.

"Listen, Blaise," Draco said quietly. "Don't question me, alright? I know what I'm doing - I've been instructed to get close to Potter and his friends by my father."

This was, of course, true. But Draco had already become somewhat of a recluse before Lucius had instructed him to do as such.

"He thinks if I pretend I'm spying on the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord to Dumbledore and that lot, I can feed the idiots false information. Have you got me?"

Blaise nodded, slowly.

"You've got the Mark, haven't you?" he asked.

Draco twitched up the sleeve of his robes slightly and showed the very edge of the Dark Mark imprinted on his skin.

"Now, listen to me. You must not tell anyone, at all, of this conversation, outside Slytherin. Even then, tell only those who ask - don't willingly offer the information. Pansy will ask; tell her immediately. Do you understand?" Draco ordered in an undertone.

"Yes," Blaise replied, nodding once slowly.

"I'm going to continue this farce. Don't let word get out about it. If you do, you and I both are dead. I'm arguing with the Slytherins - pretend to keep it that way."

"Oh, shut up, you prat," Blaise said suddenly, lifting his voice so it carried faintly.

"Very good," Malfoy replied. "What would you know, Zabini?"

"A lot more than you think. Best watch your back from now on, traitor," Blaise answered, turning and walking off, beckoning for MacNair to follow him.

Draco also walked back to his friends.

"What was that all about?" Hermione asked.

"Just Zabini and the rest of the Slytherins being absolute bastards, as always," Draco sneered.

The conversation was finished as they began to walk up the stairs together.

Inwardly, Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He had managed, this one time, to put Zabini off track. He had also assured his own exemption from questioning - by telling him an extremely garble account of his stature, the Slytherins who heard it directly would continue to 'act' as they had before, and the others would take their lead.

"Do you want to come in, Draco?" Hermione asked.

Drawing to a halt, Draco realised that he was standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, which led to the Gryffindor common room.

"No, thanks, Hermione," he smiled back. "I probably should go and do some more studying. Take care, the lot of you."

"Bye, Draco!" was the general response. Draco tipped a wink at Harry and sauntered off to the library to continue his homework.

_

Hours later, the Gryffindor trio walked into the library to find Draco with his head resting on the desk in front of him.

"Draco, are you alright?" Hermione asked, sounding concerned.

The silver-blonde head looked up.

"Of course I am," he grumbled. "I have too much work, is all."

"Aww," Hermione mock-pouted. "Would Drakey-Wakey wike Hermione to help him?"

"Shut up," Draco said.

Hermione snickered. "Over-sensitive thing, aren't you?"

A few paces behind them, Harry and Ron were conducting a whispered conversation.

"What have you done to her, Ron?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean?" the redhead replied, looking bemused.

"Well, now Hermione's extremely...different."

"How so?"

"Haven't you noticed that she's a lot more amicable recently? I mean, she would never tease anyone before."

"I suppose she does," Ron replied, brow furrowed. "I'm not sure, actually."

"It's an improvement," Harry said. "She's a lot more easy-going and fun to be with now."

"If you two have finished talking about me," Hermione called, her back still to them, "would you like to come and sit with us?"

"How did she know we were talking about her?" Ron asked, shocked, as they walked over to the book-laden table.

"Woman's intuition, Ronniekins," Hermione smirked.

"I hate how you always use that as an excuse," Ron complained.

"It's true, though," Hermione assured him.

"Oh, I'm sure it is."

"No need to sound so upset about it."

Harry rolled his eyes at Draco.

"Bickering like an old married couple already, they are," he said in an undertone.

"We are not!" Hermione said indignantly.

"Hermione!" Harry cried. "How have you managed to hear everything we're talking about?"

She shrugged. "Good concentration levels," she guessed.

"I would expect you to have them, too, after managing to listen to most of Professor Binns' lectures without falling asleep," Draco mused.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"No, that's just talent," she retorted.

"Are you saying I'm untalented?" Ron said.

"Never, Ronniekins," Hermione replied, reaching a hand over to absent-mindedly play with his hair, elbow on his shoulder.

"That's what it sounded like," Ron grouched.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Ron," Hermione sighed. "Come on, let's go find you some books."

When they had walked off, Draco turned to Harry.

"Is he always so whiny?" he asked.

"Er...yes," Harry admitted.

"Poor girl," Draco said. "Imagine, marrying him, and having more of the red-headed little things running around."

"You seem sure that they'll marry," Harry said.

"Because they will," Draco explained patiently.

"How do you know?" asked Harry.

"Ever heard of Empaths?" Draco replied.

"You're an Empath?" Harry gaped.

"No, no," laughed the Slytherin. "I have Empathical blood, same as I have veela blood. Plus, I can sense auras, if I try to."

"How?" Harry asked curiously.

"It's a form of magic," Draco said. "I taught myself during the summer."

"How do you know they'll marry, then?"

"People who are in love - their aura's glow a soft rose pink when they are with they love."

"How cliché," Harry grinned. "What clour is my aura?"

Draco focused, his eyes going blank for a moment.

"Purple, tinged with pink," he said finally. "Girl colours."

"That's very immature," Harry told him. "Purple means...?"

"It means that you're destined to succeed," Draco said. "More or less."

Harry blanched.

"Succeed...in what?" he croaked.

"Whatever the reason was for your birth, I suppose," Draco shrugged.

Harry stood suddenly.

"I have to go," he gasped out, turning quickly and knocking over his chair as he left the library in a swirl of robes, leaving a very confused Draco behind.