Complicating Differences

Chapter Four: Understanding

Draco sat in the library, the last place anyone would find him, and started to read a book. It´s wasn´t highly unusual for him to read, or even to get decent grades, but he preferred the privacy of his own room. He would never be able to study with distractions like friends or the noisy common room or even the hushed whispers that echo through the library. But he wasn´t studying, he was reading.

Hermione and Ron had left in a furious outrage. Hermione must have attempted to grab all her books and pull him away, but left one behind on accident. He stared at the cover. Divination: Dream Interpretations. He wondered what she was doing with a Divination book, it really didn´t seem her subject. Then he noticed a page was bent back somewhere near the front of the book. He opened it to that page.

Does she know? That question had been echoing in his mind every since then. No. How could she? That´s impossible.

No one knew, and no one would. If he had to do all the bloody work for his gormless father, he would at least keep it secret.

Even know, before it had all blown over, he knew in the back of his mind that allowing her to somewhat interfere in this could end disastrous.

Draco absolutely dreaded meeting Hermione, but at the same time was almost eager, and Hermione the same. And at that very moment, similar thoughts ran through her mind.

If he knew that she knew, then maybe she could somehow figure out what his `task´ was. She glanced at the clock. She had about an hour. She considered leaving about half an hour early, but didn´t want to seem eager, even if she might be. She decided she´d leave at ten till.

Then it hit her. She was sneaking out at one in the morning to meet her least favorite person and she hadn´t even considered not going. Why hadn´t she torn up the letter at first glance and gone to bed early after studying? Why was she thinking so much about him? Not about the dream, even, but just him.

Although the dream was so frightening. She would definitely feel silly if it all blew over and ended up being a meaningless nightmare, but what if it wasn´t? What if, for some reason, she now knew what the Malfoy´s were up to?

What a lousy boyfriend. Pansy brushed a strand of dark hair out of her face annoyingly. She had been sitting in the common room, hidden by masses of people and her school books, watching Draco´s every move. She couldn´t get him and his plans for the night off her mind.

But it wasn´t just her, it seemed Draco felt the same. He had been acting strange for the past hour. Must be some girl. Not half the girl I am, of course.

The hour crept by somewhat snail-like, and Hermione made her way out of the common room, clutching her lantern close to her. It was chilly, and her robes and jumper were not nearly enough to stop her from shivering. This is ridiculous.

But there was no way to talk herself out of it now, she was going and that was that.

She made her way out the gate and towards the lake. When she arrived, she set her lantern down on the opposite side of a tree, as not to alarm any students who happened to be looking outside the castle. Figuring it could be a long wait, she huddled next to it´s moderate warmth.

"Cold?" came a voice. Not from behind her, though. Draco had been there the whole time, hidden in the shadows to her right.

"You could imagine. What a plan, let´s meet in the dead of the night during winter," she spat, immediately cursing herself and biting her tongue. You don´t know what he wants yet, so don´t get carried away.

"I figured you´d be harsh. But listen, Granger, do you think I´d invite you here to criticize back and forth?" he inquired, making an obvious point.

"No - well... you said you wanted to know about my dream," she said slowly.

He only nodded, but she had no clue as where to start. "Malfoy, hear me now, if you even think it was anything filthy then you have been sheltering those dirty thoughts for too long. It was nothing like that, and I wasn´t `screaming your name like a mad person,´" Hermione said, quoting Lavender.

He smirked. "You were screaming quite madly. But yes, I know. Otherwise, if I did think it was a fantasy, I´d be so queasy, I don`t know if I could stand looking at you now," he said, and she, for a short second, thought he sounded sarcastic.

"And you don´t think I wouldn´t be sick to my stomach after such a dream, too?" she added, her snippy tone returning ever so slightly.

"Yes, I suppose. But to the point..." he started. He looked up at her face, and seemed to stare straight into her eyes. She hadn´t remembered him ever looking at her like that, or looking at her, period. Then she realized he was likely staring into darkness, not her at all. It was far too dark to see her well.

"...The point?" she asked, growing impatient with the cold nipping at all sides.

"I think I know what you dreamed," he said. And that was all. Boy, he sure knows how to keep a conversation going.

"Do you, really? And how do you suppose you know what I dreamed? Physic powers? Have you been spending too much time with Professor Trewlany?" she joked.

"I haven´t, but I believe you have," he said, remembering the Divination book he had found in the library. Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I saw you´re book. Dream interpretation, huh? Good read?"

"I was just browsing," she said. "Besides, I dropped out of Divination in my third year."

"You were interpreting you´re dream in Potions, weren´t you? And you dreamt about me. You saw me and my father."

"Yes, I did. Lucky guess," she said. Stand your ground, he doesn´t know that you know. Unless there´s nothing to know, because who knows if he knows or if there`s nothing to know for lack of truth? Confusing...

"It´s not a guess, Granger. You don´t have to believe me, if you don´t want to. But what you dreamed is real. It´s hard to explain, really. Some kind of connection we had, I think. I kind of felt what you dreamt, if that makes any sense."

"No. No sense whatsoever. Are you crazy? It was a bloody nightmare, and besides, you don´t know what it was about. I only dreamt that you and you´re father, um..." she started, but had no idea how to lie about such a thing.

"Don´t make up lies. You dreamt about a chanting circle. You saw my dad, and you saw me in the middle," he said, stating the obvious.

"Is it real? What were they chanting? Why were they chanting? Why were you bleeding?" she asked, question piling onto question.

"Stop with the bloody questions already. Do you think I know? It´s not real, it´s a dream," he shouted.

"But you knew. You just told me you knew."

"I told you I had to same bloody dream. Are you listening to a word I´m saying? It was a dream, that doesn`t mean it`s real," he said bluntly. He knew he was lying, but he couldn´t be honest. The circle was real, the chanting was real, and his Death Eater of a father was real. Flesh and blood, unfortunately. But the Mudblood didn´t have to know all that.

Draco´s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden sound. His eyes flashed helplessly in the pitch dark of the night. Someone was listening to their conversation. Hermione had heard it, too. He noticed only by her tiny, inching steps as she approached him.

"Are you still cold?" he whispered.

"Yes," she whispered back. She was cold, but also afraid. All this talk about her dream was making her alert. It had been a frightening dream, after all.

Draco´s arm felt awkward, just hanging limply in the air at the touch of her hand. He felt strange. She was confiding in him. Sure, it was a small gesture. But she was afraid, and felt some sort of comfort in touching him. She should get scared more often. Oh, the things we could do.

He brought his hand to hers, and brushed it slightly. He tried to look at her face, but could see nothing. Her hand pulled away instantly. "I want to go back to the castle now," she said, hushed.

"It´s dark, you won´t be able to see," he said.

A light instantly broke out in between them, separating them slightly. He glanced at her face then, shadowed by the light. She has a beautiful face. Then he glanced down. She had muttered Luminos under her breath, he supposed, and she was now walking with wand in hand towards the tree and her lantern. Then he mentally cursed himself for not thinking of that earlier.

"Are you leaving?" he asked as she walked away.

"Well, you said all you needed to, didn´t you?" she asked, and he couldn´t read anything in her voice. He couldn´t tell if she was still scared, or angry, nothing.

He thought. Should he tell her? No. He would have to trust her before he could tell her. Besides, she cared for Ginny. What would she think if she knew what he had to do?

"Yes," he answered.

"Are you sure?" she asked. When he didn´t answer she pressed on. "It´s a little weird, how you knew what I dreamt. Is it a spell or something? Because, well, I have been having horrible dreams lately."

Draco remembered the horrible dreams he´s had all his life. An emotional scar from his father, probably. "You don´t´ know what a bad dream is, Granger. Try living one," he told her, and walked back toward the castle without another word.

Hermione stared dumbly at his as he walked away, feeling foolish. She wondered what she actually got out of this visit. She learned nothing about her dream, that was for sure. But she had a short conversation with Malfoy, without killing each other, that is.

Then she thought of what he said. Try living one. That can´t mean he´s unhappy? Rich, nice house, popularity...and a blood thirsty father. Yes, I guess that qualifies for unhappiness. She shrugged.

She glanced around for a sign of someone who might have made the sound. That would have meant they heard their conversation. It´s not probable to see a Granger and a Malfoy on speaking terms, so she decided to walk back to the castle, just in case someone might see her. If they hadn´t already.

Which they had. Pansy emerged from the bush she was hiding in by the lake as the Mudblood walked past. Draco and Granger? Talking? She hadn´t overheard the whole conversation, but there wasn´t any snogging, and that was a start.

But they were talking. They were talking about a dream they´d both had. As Pansy ran their dialogue through her mind, all she could think of was: Who cares?

Draco entered his room and through himself down on his bed. He would have changed, but he was exhausted and irritable. Although he had no idea what he expected to get out of his visit with Hermione, that wasn´t it. And now that he knew what he had to do, he hated his father more than ever...and he hated himself, too.

Hermione had stayed a safe distance behind Draco on her way to bed. She didn´t want him to see her, and she didn´t want to talk to him again. Tonight, at least. Well, more like this morning. It was a good thing it was the weekend, or she´d be having another terrible dream in one of her classes.

If she had been a little less sleepy, she might have thought more about what Draco had said. But without thinking, she had already come to a decision about one thing. He was lying. The dream was real, and she didn´t care what he said about that.