The Redemption of Draco Malfoy

Chapter Thirteen: Gryffindor versus Slytherin

The Quidditch final was swiftly approaching and Harry began to feel a buzz of excitement settle over the castle. In the halls, people were chatting animatedly about the upcoming match, encouraging one team, insulting the other, and generally imbuing the entire castle with an excited air. To calm his nerves, Harry wandered off to Lupin's office where he found the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor laughing jovially as he reminisced about his Hogwarts days with Sirius, who sat perched on a window sill.

"The look on his face!" Sirius cried, roaring with laughter. "Madam Pomfrey told me it took her six hours to get the stuff out of his hair. Mind you, Ogg wasn't too happy - he used to use the stuff as fertiliser."

Lupin slapped his desk with teary laughter.

"Er...am I interrupting something?" Harry asked tentatively from the doorway.

Both Sirius and Lupin looked up. Sirius made no move to hide the smile on his face or assume a more elegant position, but Lupin straightened up instantly in his chair and cleared his throat. "Ah, Harry. Good to see you. We were just...um..."

"It's okay," said Harry, holding up a hand. "I don't want to know."

Sirius grinned and Lupin said, "No...uh...maybe you don't." He attempted to straighten his posture again. "So, are you ready for your match against Slytherin?"

"Yeah," Harry replied truthfully. He was nervous and he was apprehensive - especially now that Ron and Ginny would be on the pitch - but he was ready.

"How are you?" Sirius asked, his face now straight.

"I'm okay," Harry replied.

"Have you seen Draco?"

"Yeah. He seems okay. Back to his old self again."

"That was a brave thing he did," Sirius said solemnly. "I don't know too many people who would die for someone they're meant to hate."

"I don't think he hates Hermione," Harry replied. "I don't know why he doesn't, but he doesn't."

"Don't be too hard on him, Harry," Lupin put in. "He's been through a lot, and I don't just mean in the last few months. Growing up with Lucius Malfoy as your father - that's bound to give you a colourful personality."

"Dumbledore told you about Draco's family?" Sirius inquired. Harry nodded. "And about yours?" He nodded again.

"Did you know, Sirius? That I was related to Godric Gryffindor?"

"I did," said Sirius. "But I want you to understand, Harry, that I wasn't trying to keep it from you. Dumbledore made it clear to everyone who knew that you weren't to be burdened with that knowledge while you were growing up. I guess he thinks you're ready for it now, though."

"I guess," Harry replied.

"Is something bothering you, Harry?" Lupin asked, looking at him with concern.

"Just...Voldemort," Harry replied. "He got away...again."

"That doesn't matter, Harry," Sirius assured him. "You saved Hermione's life and mine, for which I'm extremely grateful, by the way. You did more than anyone could have expected. Don't dwell on the details."

"But he's out there now and we have no idea what he's planning or who he's going to hurt next. We're blind, just like we were before."

"Except now you have another ally, if I'm not mistaken," said Sirius. "You helped Hermione and you helped me, but I think you also helped Draco. He's not going to forget what happened even if he wants to. You saw what he had to do; what he had to sacrifice. His father and Voldemort are after his skin now. He's in the same boat as you."

Harry considered what Sirius was saying and was suddenly struck by the hopelessness of Draco's situation. Voldemort was after him, just as he was after Harry, but Draco's very family were his enemies. He hadn't the support of the Weasleys or a loving godfather or a loyal group of friends. He didn't even have a home to go to any more.

"He can't go home," Harry said, voicing his thoughts.

"He can," said Lupin, surprising Harry. "Dumbledore's notified the Ministry and they're going to sequester all of Lucius' property and freeze his assets. They'll go to Narcissa until Draco turns eighteen."

"But...how?" Harry asked incredulously. "The Ministry have never listened to Dumbledore before."

"Yes," said Sirius, "but now Dumbledore has something that they'll have to listen to."

"What?" Harry asked with curiosity.

"Draco," Lupin replied simply. "He's agreed to testify to the Ministry about his father's actions and associations with Voldemort. Even if Fudge still wants to deny that Voldemort's risen, he won't be able to ignore what happened to Hermione and Sirius. They can testify too, if need be, but it probably won't be necessary. Fudge knows how proud the Malfoys are and if Draco has decided to point the finger at his father, the Ministry won't need much more convincing."

Harry blinked in surprise. He certainly hadn't expected that. For Draco to testify against his father and effectively sign his arrest warrant was to go against everything the Slytherin boy had stood for his entire life. He had spoken to Harry of family pride, but now he was putting what was moral and what was right above that. Perhaps they could trust Draco after all. Time would tell though, and, as Sirius said, Harry chose not to dwell on it.

"What about you?" he asked Sirius. "Where will you go now?"

"About three floors down and fifty yards that way," said Sirius, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

Harry looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"I'm staying here," Sirius clarified. "Hagrid's letting me stay in his hut next year while he's visiting Madam Maxime in France."

Harry felt as though he would burst with joy. "Are you serious?" he asked.

"Even by name," Sirius quipped with a smile.

Harry grinned. He suddenly felt a lot less nervous about the upcoming Quidditch match - about everything. With Sirius here at Hogwarts, Harry could be assured that his godfather was safe and also speak to him whenever he wished.

"What about you, Professor Lupin?" he asked.

"Staying here," Lupin replied. "Dumbledore's keen to break the curse of the Dark Arts job."

Harry's grin widened. He felt far more cheerful now; enough to go back outside and face the jeering Slytherins in the hallways.

"I should go," he told Sirius and Lupin. "Angelina probably wants to practice some more before the match."

Lupin smiled and nodded behind his desk. "Bye," said Harry, turning to leave.

"Oh, Harry," Lupin called out when he was at the door. Harry turned back around. "How's Hermione?" Lupin asked.

"Oh...she's fine. She's still upset with Malfoy, I think, but I'm sure she'll be okay."

Lupin nodded. "And Ginny?" he asked.

"Ginny?" Harry said curiously, wondering why both Lupin and Sirius were smiling at him. "She's...uh...fine. I think."

"Have you asked her?" said Lupin.

"No, I..." He trailed off, then added, "No."

"Maybe you should," Lupin suggested. "We'll see you at the match," he added. Harry nodded and left the room, still confused.

* * *

Draco was rhythmically knocking his head against the wall behind him, just hard enough to make it interesting. He glared with loathing at the opposite wall, so dull and white and boring. When was he going to get out of here? He was sure that if he had to spend another night in this damnable Hospital Wing that he would put his fist through something - pillow, curtain, house elf...whatever. The Quidditch Final was only a few days away and though he didn't really need to practice - seeing as how good he naturally was -, he still wanted to warm himself up to the feel of a broomstick again. With all the time he was spending in this god-forsaken infirmary he was beginning to worry if his limbs might become lethargic. But then even horrible, mind-numbing boredom was preferable to a visit from Potter's gang of do-gooders. This time it was the dog-man.

Draco eyed him suspiciously as he approached his bed. "What do you want?" he asked.

"To talk," Sirius replied. "I hear you're quite good at that."

Much to Draco's annoyance, Sirius decided to sit down on the chair beside his bed. Draco was sitting above his covers with his knees pulled up. He was still being forced to wear pyjamas, which he found demeaning in front of company, even if they were his own silk, Quidditch Ralph Lauren pyjamas. Sirius was looking at him with an amused expression, which Draco didn't like at all.

"So you're Lucius Malfoy's son?" he asked.

"Yeah," Draco replied defensively. "So what?"

"So I was anxious to meet the fifteen-year-old kid who disobeyed Lucius. That's no easy thing to do."

"I'm not a kid," Draco said icily.

"No, I can see that," Sirius replied. "What you did was brave...putting yourself in front of Hermione like that."

Draco set his jaw stubbornly and looked back at his adversarial wall. Sirius seemed even more amused.

"You don't like praise, do you?" he observed. "Although, from what I understand, you have no problem praising yourself." Draco turned back to Sirius and narrowed his eyes darkly. "Or is it that you just don't like emotion?" Sirius inquired more seriously. "Lucius taught you not to feel anything when you betray people, didn't he? He taught you not to feel guilt or remorse. And he also taught you not to feel compassion or sympathy or love. But you do, don't you?"

"Right now, all I feel is an overwhelming desire to kick you in the stomach," said Draco.

Sirius smiled broadly. "She was right about you."

Draco's angry expression faded quickly, replaced by a curious look. "Who was?"

"Hermione," Sirius replied.

As casually as he could, Draco asked, "What did she say about me?"

"Oh, now I can't tell you something like that," Sirius said with mock conviction. "I'd be betraying her trust."

The angry expression returned to Draco's face like a vulture to its nest. "You think you're pretty funny, don't you?" he said.

"I think, therefore I am," Sirius replied sagely.

"Well, I think you're a tosser," said Draco.

Annoyingly, Sirius was still smiling. "I guess that's my cue to leave," he said, standing up. "You want to get some rest before your Quidditch game," he added, replacing the chair. "Harry's not going to go easy on you just because you died."

"I can take Potter any day," Draco replied fiercely.

Sirius was walking towards the door by now. He turned back around before he reached it, still smiling. "She was definitely right about you," he said, and then walked out, leaving Draco bristling with fury on his bed. He yelled out in frustration and then threw the covers off himself.

"That's it!" he barked, getting to his feet. "I'm getting out of this stinking place. Where the hell is Madam Pomfrey?"

* * *

Ginny sat in an armchair by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, gazing into the flames and warming herself by their heat. It was lunchtime and most of the students were downstairs in the Great Hall, which had left the common room in a peaceful silence. Ginny was quite content to sit there staring at the fire and maybe fall asleep if she could, but she was prevented from doing so when the portrait hole opened and Harry stepped through. She quickly straightened up, pulling her legs up beneath her. He walked directly towards her.

"Hey, Ginny."

"Hi," she replied.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked, indicating the armchair beside her.

"No," said Ginny, shaking her head.

Harry took a seat and then turned to look at Ginny, who turned to look at the wall. Several moments of awkward silence elapsed before Harry spoke.

"Are you...um...are you okay Ginny?"

Ginny turned to face him. "I'm fine," she said.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Why?"

"I was just wondering if you were. You know - after everything that happened."

Ginny lowered her gaze. "I'm fine," she repeated.

"I'm not," said Harry.

Ginny looked up with surprise. "You're not?" she asked softly.

"No," said Harry. "I'm afraid...and I'm worried...and I've been thinking a lot about what happened."

Ginny looked back at him intently. She realised that Harry was opening up to her, telling her things he wouldn't ordinarily tell anyone, so that she would open up to him. She owed it to him, she supposed.

"I have too," she said. Harry kept silent and waited for her to continue. Suddenly, there was a rush of emotion inside Ginny that loosened her tongue. "You almost died Harry!" she said earnestly. "If Malfoy hadn't put himself in front of you like that you would have! You would have been killed, not just knocked unconscious. I..." Ginny dropped her gaze. "I don't want you to get killed, Harry."

"I'm still here," he replied. "I'm not going anywhere."

Ginny looked up, into his large green eyes. They weren't bottomless, like Dumbledore's were or Draco's were; everything that was in them, everything Harry felt, was there at the surface. He was like an open book, waiting to be read if only Ginny could raise her eyes to his. She did now, and she saw in them a tenderness and an affection that she hadn't expected to see. Her tongue was still loose.

"Harry, I..." She trailed off, her mouth remaining open as Harry looked back patiently and curiously. Curiously, Ginny realised. He doesn't know what I want to say.

"What is it, Ginny?" Harry asked.

She let her eyes fall along with her spirits, looking not at Harry or herself but at the space between them. "Nothing," she said softly. "It's nothing."

She half expected Harry to continue probing and asking her what was wrong, but he must have sensed Ginny's unwillingness to talk and so remained silent. His eyes were drawn to the portrait hole as the first few students arrived back from lunch.

"Are you coming down to practice?" he asked, getting to his feet.

"Yeah," said Ginny. "I'll be down a minute."

"Okay," Harry said, looking at her with apprehension. He turned away, reluctantly swallowing the concern written across his face, and left the common room. Ginny took a deep, shuddering breath and hurried quickly up to her dormitory. She shut the door behind her and looked around for her Quidditch gear, her vision blurred by tears, which she wiped away impatiently.

* * *

The following Saturday was the day of the Quidditch Final and the staff and students were beginning to filter out of the castle and make their way across the grounds to the Quidditch pitch. It was both bright and cloudy, though there was little wind. The stands were filling up steadily, over half the spectators sporting gold or crimson decorations and a smaller portion wearing green and silver.

Hermione was following her Gryffindor housemates up to a row of seats in the stands, looking back over her shoulder to see if any of the players were visible yet. The pitch was empty though, so she took her seat and waited patiently. As she did, Lavender and Parvati engaged her in conversation.

"So Hermione," Parvati said conversationally, leaning forward to see past Lavender, "what's going on with you and Malfoy?"

Hermione assumed a nonchalant look, which may have been nullified by the fact that she was blushing slightly. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Parvati replied.

"We were just working together," Hermione explained. "For an Arithmancy project."

"Is that all you were doing?" Lavender asked, on the verge of giggles, to Hermione's irritation.

"Well, what do you think we were doing?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't know," said Parvati. "Maybe spending some time in the Astronomy Tower."

And then came the giggles. Hermione glared at them both. "Draco and I are not involved!" she said firmly.

"Draco..." Lavender chorused. "So you're on a first name basis now, are you?"

"Yes, and I don't see what's wrong with that."

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with it," Parvati chimed in. "We just wish you'd tell us what you do with him. Girls are supposed to share that kind of information with each other. So, tell me...is he really an evil bastard or is he just misunderstood?"

"I think you're the one that's misunderstanding," said Hermione. "I told you - Draco and I aren't involved. We never were."

"Well, just tell us about his hair," Parvati persisted. "Is it really as soft as it looks?"

"Parvati!"

"Okay, okay," Parvati said, sitting back in her seat. Hermione composed herself and turned her attention back to the pitch, where Madam Hooch was now standing with the crates of balls. The stands were almost completely full now and humming with the excited palaver of over a thousand people. Hermione looked down several rows and saw Sirius and Lupin sitting together, pulling immature faces at Snape, who was sitting on the other side of the pitch. He glared back coldly.

All of the sudden there was a mighty roar from the crowd as one of the locker room doors was thrown open and Angelina stepped out, leading the rest of the Gryffindor team towards the centre of the pitch. Hermione stood up and spotted Ron and the twins and Harry with his hand on Ginny's shoulder. The youngest Weasley looked, at least from this distance, extremely nervous. Hermione wasn't worried though; Ginny looked like that before every game and yet she never failed to play phenomenally.

Hermione's eyes drifted over to the other locker room door, which was thrust open a moment later to reveal the Slytherin captain. He started out onto the pitch as the other players gradually walked into view behind him. Hermione watched and waited and almost started to worry, until a blonde head appeared, last of all, walking slowly across the pitch. Clearly, Draco thought it his prerogative to set the pace of the game. He arrived beside his teammates, facing the Gryffindors as two armies might face each other before battle. Every player stared, or rather glared, at their counterpart on the other team, aside from Ginny, who was staring at the ground, and Draco who was...looking around the stands. He scanned the crowd until his eyes came to rest on her, where they stayed for several moments. Hermione felt a thrill run down her spine, and was irritated by it. She wasn't sure if she should maybe wave or smile or give him the thumbs up - so she did nothing. Draco seemed satisfied though, and turned back to the game.

The captains shook hands and then Madam Hooch gave the signal for broomsticks to be mounted. A tense moment later and her whistle blew, the roar of the crowd carrying the players up into the air. Hermione cringed at the volume of the sound.

She lifted her shoulders again and looked out at the pitch, to find that Ginny already had the Quaffle and was racing towards the Slytherin goals. Hermione cringed again as one of the Slytherin Chasers sped directly at her, threatening to unseat her. But Ginny simply swerved effortlessly aside and put the Quaffle through one of the goalposts.

"Gryffindor scores!" Lee Jordan bellowed.

Ginny doubled back to the centre of the pitch where she was slapped on the back by the other Chasers and Fred and George. Ron was hovering around the Gryffindor goalposts and Harry was further up in the air, circling on one side of the pitch while Draco was circling on the other. That was odd, Hermione thought, as Draco usually shadowed Harry the entire game. He wouldn't be ignoring Harry like that and looking for the Snitch on his own unless...unless he had listened to what she'd said to him.

Hermione found her eyes drifting towards Draco just as much as they were towards Harry, or Ron or Ginny. That was all she needed, she mused, another person to watch out for. Don't be silly, she told herself, Draco can look after himself. But a moment later she gasped as a Bludger narrowly missed him and then settled down quickly before anyone noticed.

Down below, Adrian Pucey was carrying the Quaffle towards the Gryffindor end, bookended by the other Chasers, who looked particularly unapproachable, to say the least. One of them swerved menacingly at Katie as she tried to get at the Quaffle, which discouraged any further attempts. Ginny, though, didn't seem fazed by Adrian's brutish bodyguards.

Hermione didn't know what Ginny hoped to accomplish though, especially when she was simply flying backwards in front of Adrian without making any attempts at the Quaffle. But then she saw Fred fall into place behind Ginny, drifting backwards as well. Across the pitch, George intercepted a Bludger and smacked it directly towards Fred, who raised his bat and...

Ginny ducked straight away but Adrian's reflexes weren't as quick - the Bludger hit him square in the stomach. He lurched sideways on his broom, threatening to fall, but managed to hang on. He looked up with fury on his face, glancing around for the Quaffle or for someone's head. But Ginny was already in the Slytherin goal circle by then and in Hermione's opinion, the Keeper didn't stand a chance.

"Gryffindor increase their lead to forty points," said Lee. "Slytherin are trailing on twenty."

The match dissolved, as they always did between these two teams, into a bloody, violent conflict. Fred and George were hitting Bludger's all over the place, knocking them towards an attacking Chaser only to fly around, intercept it on the other side of the pitch and hit it at them again. Their experience really showed. As did Angelina's, who put two more goals away. Katie scored once and Ginny got another. It was now Gryffindor on one hundred points and Slytherin on thirty. Although the Slytherin Beaters were vicious enough, the Chasers simply couldn't stand up to the superior skills of the Gryffindors.

Ginny had the Quaffle again. The majority of the crowd gasped en masse as Ginny flew in a vertical loop to shake one of the Slytherin Chasers and then sped towards the goalposts and scored again.

The game drew on but still there was no sign of the Snitch.

"Gryffindor scores again, which brings them to one hundred and sixty points," Lee announced. "Slytherin are way behind on thirty, but they're not going to touch Ginny Weasley anytime soon. And she puts another one away!"

Soon, the Gryffindor team had achieved the rare feat of putting themselves more than one hundred and fifty points ahead, which meant that unless the Slytherin Chasers narrowed the difference and Draco got the Snitch, it would likely be a Gryffindor victory.

Hermione looked up to see Draco flying around nimbly, ignoring Harry completely - although she knew that the roar of the crowd would alert him if Harry had sighted the Snitch. Draco was flying far more fluidly now than he had in the past, looking, despite the lack of a smile, as though he was genuinely enjoying the game. As Hermione watched, he caught sight of Ginny down below, racing towards the Slytherin goals, and plunged his broom down towards her. Ginny spotted him when he was only a few yards away and swerved sharply out of his way, dropping the Quaffle. Hermione could have sworn that Draco was smirking at her and that Ginny was sticking her tongue out at him. Ginny turned away and glided back to the other end of the pitch, Draco watching her go. In fact, he was watching her quite intently, and suddenly Hermione realised what he was looking at. There was a glimmer of gold beside Ginny's ankle, following her across the pitch. She saw Draco straighten up, lean forward on his broomstick and shoot forward like an arrow.

The rest of the crowd realised what was happening and started to gasp and yell and scream wildly. Some stood up in their seats to shout profanities at Draco and the Slytherins to urge him onwards. Harry realised a second later and two seconds later he was speeding towards Ginny, racing Draco to the Snitch. Ginny turned around, her eyes widening with horror as she saw them hurtling towards her; but both Harry and Draco had veered to the right as the Snitch flew away from Ginny and down near the ground.

The speeds of their Firebolts were equally matched, both urging their brooms onwards with a fierce intensity. Draco was several feet below Harry now, though still even with him. With a sudden burst of speed he angled his broom upwards so that Harry was forced to yank his aside to avoid colliding with Draco. It was all the other boy needed to put himself in front, and a moment later he flew easily past the Snitch and snatched it out of the air.

The groans of disappointment from the crowd were thunderous but the roar of triumph was deafening. Hermione was on her feet clapping vigorously. Spectators began flooding onto the pitch and Hermione followed them down and ran across the field to Harry, disappointed to see that Draco had already detached himself.

"Good job, Harry!" she cried above the din.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry replied loudly, beaming.

"And you too, Ginny," she said. "You were great. And Ron! You were fantastic." They were all grinning as they were slapped repeatedly on the back by Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Gryffindors alike.. Hermione turned around and scanned the crowd. She saw Draco standing with a throng of Slytherins who snarling maliciously at the Gryffindors. He was paying little attention to them though, and was instead staring back at her. His face was blank but for a hint of recognition and quite possibly amusement. How he managed to look amused without smiling Hermione would never know. She looked back, though, and didn't look away until a group of spectators moved between her and Draco, hiding him from view.

Dumbledore was descending from the stands now, holding the Quidditch Cup in his hands. The crowd parted as he walked towards the Gryffindor team and handed the golden trophy to Angelina, who, with the help of Fred and George, held it high in the air. The Slytherin team were already departing, Draco lost amongst a see of emerald and silver.

Behind Hermione, George shouted, "Party in the Gryffindor common room and you're all buying!"

Hermione was swept along with the crowd, back to the castle and into the Gryffindor common room where the party lasted the entire night.

* * *

The school year was dwindling to a close and the weather was beginning to warm up. The snow at Hogwarts had long since melted and the students spent their days either in the library studying for exams or outside on the grounds once they were over.

In the last Arithmancy class of the year, Hermione was sitting beside Padma Patil, looking across the room at Draco who, rather than leaning lazily back in his chair, was sitting upright with a tense hunch to his shoulders. Hermione wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that, after arriving at the room before he did, she had chosen to sit beside Padma rather than at an empty table, where she might save a seat for Draco. He hadn't looked at her all lesson but he looked more disappointed than upset, if Hermione was reading his expression right - which she highly doubted she was.

Professor Vector stood up from her chair with a bunch of folded, frayed and faded parchments. "I have your assignments here," she said, flipping idly through them. "They were extremely well done this year and you'll be happy to know that no one failed." An audible sigh of relief greeted the Professor's words. She started moving amongst the rows of seats, handing them out. The bell rang as she did and those who had already collected their projects were filing out of the door. Hermione was chewing nervously on a fingernail, watching each and every student leave, until only she and Draco remained.

"Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy," Professor Vector said, stopping in front of them. She lifted the top sheet of one of the assignments and considered it briefly, then looked back up. "You've both done exceptionally well," she told them. "You've scored far higher than any student who's ever completed this assignment. Well done - both of you." She handed Hermione her assignment with a smile and then Draco his. Hermione turned it over to look at the mark then stifled a smile while she packed her books into her bag. She had wanted to ask Draco how he had gone, but he was already out the door by the time she looked up. With a shrug, she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and left the room.

* * *

In the third week of June it was time for the students to board the Hogwarts express and return home for their summer holidays. Harry didn't think the weather could be any more perfect for their departure. There wasn't a single cloud in sky, which was shining bright blue above them. The students were milling about on the Hogsmeade platform, packing their belongings onto the train and chatting with friends. Harry walked beside Ron and Hermione as they wound their way through the crowd and onto the train. They claimed an empty compartment and stowed their trunks before sitting down.

"So Sirius is really going to be at Hogwarts next year?" said Ron.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "Lupin, too."

"Bloody fantastic!" said Ron. "At least that's one less thing to worry about now that we have a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who won't try to murder you."

Harry silently agreed. He turned to smile out the window, resting his chin on his palm and gazing at the sky. He wondered briefly where Ginny was - whether she was sitting alone in a compartment of her own. He hadn't seen her all day.

"Fancy a game of Exploding Snap, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Sure," said Harry, turning away from the window.

* * *

As Harry and Ron began to play, the great scarlet steam engine rumbled to life. Doors were slammed shut all up and down the train before it began to move, slowly at first but gathering speed. Soon they were speeding back to London with the countryside whizzing past the window. Hermione decided that she'd heard enough random explosions and left the boys to their card game. She wandered down aimlessly down the train, until she came across Ginny's compartment. She pushed the door open and found the young Weasley girl sitting by herself and staring out the window.

"Hi, Ginny."

Ginny turned around and looked up. "Oh, hi, Hermione."

Hermione closed the door behind her and took a seat. Ginny avoided her eyes and looked rather at the seat Hermione was sitting on or at the floor. "How are you?" Hermione inquired.

"I'm okay," Ginny replied. "Sorry I didn't come to sit with you guys. I just...I was late to the platform and the train had already started and..."

"Really?" Hermione interjected. "I thought it was because of Harry."

Ginny met her eyes, open-mouthed. "Wh- what? What do you mean?"

"Well, you like him don't you?" said Hermione.

Ginny turned scarlet and looked down at the floor. Hermione smiled. "You don't have to be embarrassed about it, Ginny," she said kindly. "I think it's nice that you like Harry, even if he's too dumb to notice."

Ginny smiled weakly. "You didn't tell him, did you?" she asked with sudden horror.

"No. Of course not. But you should."

Ginny looked away again. "I- I tried to," she said. "But the words just dried up in my mouth. I couldn't do it."

"Well, don't be too hard on yourself," Hermione said encouragingly. "Harry will wake up sooner or later and realise what he's missing. And if he doesn't then I'll just have to have a very stern talk to him."

Ginny smiled cheerfully. "Thanks, Hermione."

"No problem."

They were silent for a moment before Ginny spoke again. "What about you and Malfoy?" she asked, more suspiciously than curiously. "What's going on there?"

"With Draco? I have no idea. Frankly, he's a complete enigma to me."

"But...you like him?"

"I don't know. I thought I did. He can be a real git sometimes - most of the time - but sometimes he can actually be kind."

"Malfoy?" Ginny said sceptically.

Hermione chuckled. "Maybe it's just me. I don't know. I don't think it matters now. We're all going home and next year we probably won't have anything to do with each other."

"Yeah," Ginny said with a smile.

"Anyway," said Hermione, getting to her feet, "I should go back and make sure Ron and Harry still have eyebrows. Are you sure you don't want to come?"

Ginny nodded. "Thanks, anyway."

"Okay, then," Hermione said. "See you later."

"Bye," Ginny said, as Hermione left the compartment. She slid the door shut behind her and turned back to the front of the train. And almost crashed into...

"Draco!" she cried, jumping back. She looking up to see him staring back at her with interest. His hair had grown quite long now, so that strands of it were hanging down and framing his face. Hermione hadn't looked at him this closely since he had accosted her in the hallway at Hogwarts and held her to the wall by her wrist. She marvelled at how flawless his face was, how perfect the symmetry, how sharp the...

"Granger..."

Hermione blinked and swam back to reality. "Hmm? What?"

"Nothing," said Draco, with a faint smile.

He looked much taller than her all of the sudden, and very solid too as he stood before her in the narrow corridor. "Did you...er...want something?" Hermione inquired.

"Not really," said Draco. He looked sideways at the door she had just come through. "Who were you visiting?"

"Oh...Ginny," Hermione replied.

"She isn't sitting with you?" Draco asked curiously.

"No, she, ah, wanted to be alone for a while."

"Potter still ignoring her?" said Draco.

Hermione stared at him with shock. "How did you know about that?"

"Hermione, the whole school knows about it." She noted, with pleasure, the use of her first name. Perhaps Draco hadn't forgotten everything that had transpired between them before all that unpleasant business with Voldemort. It was Voldemort's fault now, Hermione mused to herself, not Draco's. When had that happened?

"I guess they do," she replied. "But I didn't expect you to pick up on it."

"Oh, I'm very in tune with human emotions," Draco said with a smile. Even when he smiled, one side of his mouth would curl up to make it look like a smirk. It had originally irritated Hermione, but now she found it rather amusing. Perhaps even charming. "So how'd you go on your Arithmancy assignment?" he asked her.

"I got a hundred and sixty percent," Hermione replied with a small smile. "What about you?"

"Hundred and fifty nine."

"What?" Hermione asked in confusion. "How can that be? We did exactly the same things."

"Except I forgot to rub out the doodle I made in the margin of that Ravenclaw girl."

"Oh," said Hermione, hiding a smile.

Draco smiled back in a weary manner. Almost everything about him looked weary at the moment. There was a leaden tiredness inside his eyes and his posture wasn't as erect as it usually was. Still, he was smiling, so that was something.

"Um, I should probably get back to Harry and Ron," Hermione said, feeling suddenly insecure. She wanted to speak to Draco, but not in the middle of a passageway when they were forced to make small talk. She supposed she'd never get the chance, though, and felt a slight disappointment.

Draco nodded and moved aside to let her through. Hermione made sure not to touch him on her way past and then turned back to say goodbye, but Draco was already walking in the other direction. "See you next year, Granger," he called out without looking back.

"Bye," Hermione whispered to herself, watching him go.

* * *

Draco was smiling wryly at the floor as he walked between the compartments and away from Hermione. He wasn't sure what he'd expected or hoped to happen, but the encounter had left him feeling empty inside. He opened the door of the compartment he'd claimed for himself and sat down, resting his head back on the seat.

He was tired now, more so than he could ever remember being. He wanted to return to his bed at the Manor and fall asleep for days, so that he wouldn't have to think over the things that had happened until we woke. He attempted to snatch a few hours sleep on the train, but something prevented him from doing so. It was a sharp tapping on his window, around the halfway point of the journey. Draco opened his eyes and saw a great black bird hovering outside, easily keeping pace with the train. He recognised it as the same bird that had delivered Voldemort's ransom letter to Harry at the Manor, or one very like it. He opened the window hesitantly to allow the bird in. It jumped onto the windowsill, its talons curling around the frame, and dropped a letter onto the floor. It fixed Draco with its blood-red gaze for a moment before turning away and taking off once more. Draco waited until it was a speck of black against the sky and then picked up the letter. His heart sank immediately.

It was printed with a seal of black wax, bearing the Malfoy crest: a snake curled intricately around a letter M. Draco's heartbeat quickened as he broke the seal and opened the letter. He read it slowly.

Draco,

I imagine that by now you have finished your term at school and are on your way home. I use the word 'home' in the most liberal sense, as, through your actions, you have split your family apart, and without family a home is merely an empty thought. And thoughts are fleeting, Draco; they cannot last.

The Dark Lord is disappointed with the path you have chosen to walk, though he is not yet ready to relinquish you to his enemies. You are mine, Draco, and as such, you are also his, to do with as he pleases and to command as he sees fit. There is no escaping your destiny, Draco - it is what you were born for. You may find solace in your alliance with Potter, and with Dumbledore, but that is also a thought, and also fleeting. They cannot keep you any more than I was able to. But the Dark Lord shall. It is inevitable.

So for now, take comfort in the false compassion of your friends, and in the futile hope that you can oppose our Lord. But he is watching, Draco - always. And when he comes for you, you will have neither friends nor hope to cling to, and you shall serve him, until the end of your days.

Lucius Thanatos Malfoy.

Once he had finished reading, Draco stared with unseeing eyes at the letter, unable to release it from his grip. He was breathing hard; the fatigue in his bones had solidified to a painful exhaustion, spreading through him like fire. With a considerable effort, he lifted his eyes from the letter to stare out the window, where the sky looked suddenly darker.

When at long last he let the parchment go, it burst into dazzling orange flames and sank to the floor, sighing as it went, as though Lucius' words were being given a voice. Draco swallowed hard and rested his head again, his mind replaying his father's words over and over and adding to them Lucius' cold, inflexible tones. When he comes for you, you will have neither friends nor hope to cling to, and you shall serve him, until the end of your days.

Draco looked out of the window with a heavy heart, watching the countryside fly by in streaks of green and blue and brown. The end of my days, he thought to himself. When will that be? He didn't know; no more than he knew what he was going to do now. He couldn't see that far ahead; he could see only the whorl of colours outside his window, and then the black of his eyelids as sleep consumed him and he fell into dreams.

* * *