Old Moon Fades

Old Moon Fades

Chapter Nineteen: Conversations and Realizations

Harry watched as Hermione pulled the curtain from around Malfoy's bed and ran from the room. If he'd been able to get out of the hospital bed, he'd have chased after her to make sure she was alright. But he couldn't get out of the bed. Harry heard a dramatic sigh of frustration coming from Malfoy's direction and he turned his attention back to the Slytherin Seeker across the room.

The curtains were still open around Malfoy's bed and Harry could easily observe the other boy. Harry was mildly surprised at the raw emotions playing out on Malfoy's face. He saw guilt at first, fleeting and hollow, and it staggered him. The Malfoy he knew would never feel guilt for anyone, especially not a lowly Muggleborn like Hermione. The guilt was soon followed by frustration. Malfoy still hadn't noticed him or had forgotten that he wasn't alone. The blonde boy's fingers curled into a fist and slammed down onto the blankets, a cry of anger falling from his lips. Whatever reaction Harry had expected from Malfoy, gloating or condescension over the attention perhaps, this was certainly not it.

Usually Malfoy's emotion seemed cleverly crafted and honed to portray only what he wanted others to perceive. The personality he'd created to present to the public, Harry realized, was largely different than his real one. The wild look in Malfoy's eyes was proof enough of that. If Harry wanted to be honest with himself, he'd realize that he did the same thing, built the same walls, to shield himself from the public. It was odd to think that he shared something that personal with Malfoy.

Malfoy still hadn't noticed Harry's watchful gaze, so he continued his observance. The frustration at Hermione's departure eventually found its way to sorrow. As much as Harry disliked the boy across the room, he felt pity for him, too. He'd seen those same emotions play across his own face as he'd looked into the mirror every day since Sirius's death. He didn't know what had just happened between Malfoy and Hermione, but he did recognize that the other boy had spent the last week trying to apologize. In that moment, Harry felt that he actually sympathized with Draco Malfoy. Whatever Malfoy had done or said to upset Hermione the previous week, Harry was fairly certain it was more a reaction to his pent up guilt and anger than a deliberate attempt to hurt Hermione's feelings.

If he felt like being honest with himself, Harry would admit to doing the same thing to his friends all year. But it seemed that Malfoy hadn't yet realized what he was doing subconsciously, if this recent outburst was any indication.

"Just what are you staring at, Potter?" Malfoy asked coldly, rudely interrupting Harry's thoughts.

Malfoy was leaning back on his pillows, obviously in pain; the cold sneer was back in place. The curtain blocked some of the bright sun and obscured Malfoy's face in the shadows. When he'd been sitting forward Harry had been able to better see his expression. Now that he couldn't read him to gauge their conversation, Harry relied on their familiar pattern of animosity to respond.

"What did you do this time, Malfoy? It wasn't enough to humiliate her all week with those stupid flowers and candies, but the first time she makes a move to forgive your sorry arse, you botch it up. I've got to hand it to you, Ferret, you're a real bastard. You know that?" Harry replied, ignoring the other boy's question and responding with his own.

Harry didn't know how close that last comment had cut. He couldn't see Malfoy's reddened face or the angry, hurt expression at being called a bastard. Harry didn't realize the truth of his statement.

"That's good, Potter. You keep telling yourself that... When you think about just how badly you treated Hermione since the start of term," Malfoy snarled. Harry was surprised that he'd said her name, and said it without malice. "Just remember who it was she went to for comfort from your tantrums."

"Yeah, and she came running back the minute you showed yourself for who you really are... an arrogant, selfish prick only concerned with your own opinion of yourself. The minute your two cronies begged for your forgiveness, you tossed out your only ally."

"That's bollocks and you know it," Malfoy replied disdainfully. He sighed slowly and appeared for a moment that he was thinking of how to talk down to a small child. "She's scared of the truth. That she could have feelings for me, despite what you and your lot do to convince her otherwise. She has her own mind, Potter, and you'd do well to remember that. You'd be dead several times over if it wasn't for her."

It was true and Harry had nothing to say otherwise. But it angered him that Malfoy would know all that. Was he really that transparent?

"That may very well be true, but in the end you'll be the reason that she sees you for what you really are. Not me, not Ron, you... You and your pureblood prejudices and foolish notions of righteousness."

Malfoy's voice was frozen and whipped across the room in a deadly whisper. "You don't know anything about me. Don't you dare assume that you have the tiniest inkling of what I do or do not believe. I could have killed her this summer and I didn't. You can say what you want about me, Potter, but don't presume to understand what I am, or who I am. You have no idea."

"I don't have to presume a damn thing! You've made your beliefs known since the very first day I met you! People can't change what-"

Malfoy cut him off quickly. "People can change, Potter! If they couldn't then there would be no point in fighting this stupid war! Get it through your thick head that I have changed! And you have too, if you hadn't noticed. You threw away a friendship with Hermione just because you couldn't handle helping her with her problems. If anyone has changed, Potter, it's you."

They slipped into silence then. Neither willing to comment or add fuel to the already raging fire between them. Harry felt the sleeping potion he'd taken before Hermione came in creeping up on him and claiming him. He let it. He didn't want to face the reality of Malfoy's statements.

* * *

They were both being held overnight and into the next day. Draco was angry that he'd let Potter get to him so easily just a few hours before. The night had crept in while he was sleeping off the effects of the potion Madame Pomfrey had given him, and darkness had encapsulated the room. The curtains were still open around his bed and from his place on the pillows he could clearly see the doorway of the hospital wing and Potter's bed on the other side. The moon was rising over the tree tops in the distance, bright and bold. It waited.

Draco wasn't tired anymore, though his body ached from being so badly broken. He wanted to sleep as respite from his inability to get Hermione to forgive him. She'd seen his Mark, his scar. He had forgotten that he'd had it since he had been so caught up in having her with him. She had been warm and close, and he had smelled her hair and felt her breath on his face.

He'd almost kissed her.

He'd wanted to so badly that it ached, and it ached inside him still. She would have let him too, though he wasn't sure he'd deserved the chance. Even if he hadn't, he was an opportunist and would gladly take whatever he'd been offered. Then she'd seen the Mark. And run from the room. From him. And that tosser, Potter, had watched it all. Probably gloating the whole time. Prick.

He was startled from his thoughts when the door slowly creaked open though no one appeared to be there. But he couldn't really tell in the darkness. Then suddenly a person appeared, a cloak shimmering in the moonlight and Draco immediately recognized it for what it was. An Invisibility Cloak. His father had had one back at the Manor and Draco and his mother had played "hide and go seek" with it when he was younger. His eyes burned at the memory.

He was very careful to appear asleep, for whoever it was was intent on secrecy.

"Harry?" The quiet voice whispered. It wasn't Hermione, she didn't sound quite like that. "Are you awake?"

Potter mumbled and groaned at being woken up. His hands searched blindly for his glasses and the girl reached over and handed them to him.

"Ginny, is that you?"

"Yes. Sorry to wake you up and all but I couldn't talk about this with Malfoy being awake."

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Harry asked, his voice rising in nervous anxiety. "Is it Hermione?"

"No. Well, sort of," she replied, moving to sit facing Harry on his bed. "I came to ask if you knew what happened earlier between her and Malfoy. She's really broken up about it and won't come down from her room. Usually she'll tell me what's bothering her, but she's just completely silent."

Draco leaned closer to hear them, interest and a familiar feeling of guilt battling it out in his mind.

"Hmm... I didn't catch much of it. She pulled the curtains around them and that muffled most of what they said. I heard her say something about 'buying forgiveness,' and then I couldn't tell what was happening. I could tell they were talking but it was so soft that I couldn't make it out." A strange look appeared on his face as an idea came to him. Harry looked over at Ginny with an expression close to morbid disgust in his eyes. "You don't think they were... you know, kissing or anything, do you?"

"I don't know, Harry. I don't think so. I don't think Hermione would run off just because somebody tried to kiss her. That seems a little childish to me. He must have said something, then."

"I guess. Sorry I couldn't be of more help to you. Why didn't you wait til morning to come down? It was awfully risky coming up here in the middle of the night, even if you have my cloak. How did you get it anyway? I doubt Ron would let you take it, knowing you were just going to come here."

"You left it in the hallway that night, after we talked about the prophecy. I know I should have given it back to you earlier but I didn't want everyone to know that we went to the Room of Requirement." Draco could hear the change in her voice. She chuckled nervously a small smile on her face. "That could get embarrassing."

"Yeah, I see what you mean. Just be careful going back and try to avoid getting caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris. I wish you had the map with you."

"I'll be fine, Harry. Don't worry. I have more than enough brothers, I don't need you worrying for me, too." Her voice was hopeful sounding and had taken on a flirtatious lilt. She was teasing the other boy and Draco was mildly surprised at Harry's obliviousness to her suggestion.

"Okay, Gin. Thanks for coming by to see me. It's nice to see a friendly face, even if you did wake me up from a particularly nice dream."

There was a disappointed pause and Potter seemed to be completely unaware of it. "Well, I'll leave you to it then, Harry. Try to get some sleep and don't enjoy it too much," she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "I'll see you tomorrow at lunch?"

"Yeah, save me a seat. And don't let Ron eat all the treacle tart," Harry said jokingly.

She sighed quietly. "Goodnight, Harry," she said, bending over and giving the dark haired boy a kiss on his forehead.

"Night, Gin."

She swept the cloak around her shoulders and disappeared in the darkness. The moon was high overhead now and soon Harry would be able to see that Draco was not asleep. The door opened and shut quietly and Draco could hear the soft patter of her feet against the stones in the corridor. Potter sank back into his pillows, a small smile decorating his face. Draco couldn't resist tormenting him.

His voice cut across the darkness and startled Harry from his reverie. "You're even thicker than I tell people, Potter, not to notice such an obvious play for your affection."

Potter's reply was part confusion, part astonishment, but mostly anger. "What is that supposed to mean, Malfoy? And didn't your parents teach you not to listen in on other people's private conversations?!"

"The Weaselette was practically throwing herself at you, you daft git. Why else would she come here in the middle of the night when we both know perfectly well that her stupid question could have waited til morning? Take it for what it is, Potter, Weasel's younger sister wants you, for Merlin knows what hideous reason, and you just let her go. And you call me stupid..."

Harry tried to cut in but Draco didn't let him. "In answer to your second question, Potter, I was taught to always listen in on private conversations. Really, did you expect any differently? And, weren't you just confessing to the Weaselette that you'd been listening in on my private conversation? You'd do well to eat your words before accusing me of something similar." Draco said smugly before falling back onto his pillows. He could fall asleep now that he'd properly gotten revenge for their conversation earlier.

"Goodnight, Potter," he sang complacently.

* * *

"So..." Hermione began slowly.

Ginny could feel her friend watching her carefully from across the table in the Library. She almost laughed aloud at Hermione's attempt at subtlety, but she restrained herself and focused on the book in front of her. Hermione was never going to be successful in the art of understated diplomacy. Ginny could feel Hermione's indignation at the obvious brush-off and tried again to keep from grinning. Finally, when it was apparent that she wasn't going to be able to read any longer, she casually glanced back up at her friend and leaned back in her chair.

She repeated Hermione's lame attempt to start a conversation. "So..."

At this, they collapsed in girlish giggling, earning them both a glare from Madame Pince. Hermione instantly sobered and drew her chair closer to the table. Hermione was blushing from the embarrassment of being called out by the librarian and by her friend. "Oh, bother... I guess I'll just cut right to the question then." Hermione pursed her lips together in concentration and Ginny eagerly leaned in. Hermione's voice was barely more than a whisper. "So, what's going on with you and Harry?"

Whatever Ginny had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. Ever since they'd left the Common Room, Ginny had known that Hermione had something she wanted to talk about. Hermione had been trying to get her attention for quite some time, but every time she'd start to pose her question she'd balk and retreat... And Ginny had been quite amused by the whole thing. But she wasn't expecting Hermione to ask her about her relationship, or lack thereof, with Harry. As she sputtered about for an answer, Hermione smirked haughtily.

"You two looked fairly friendly sleeping on the couch in the Common Room last week... I've been meaning to ask you about this but we've never been alone." Hermione's eyes were bright and cheerful, a drastic difference from the way she'd looked over the course of the week. Ever since the Quidditch match, Hermione had been distant and uncommunicative. This was definitely an improvement, and Ginny felt like indulging her friend in some much needed girl-talk.

"You really cut to the chase, don't you?" She sighed dramatically and closed her book. Hermione immediately put down her quill and assumed an eager listening position. Ginny's voice was low and conspiratorial as she continued. "There is absolutely nothing going on between Harry and me... we're just friends. Nothing more."

Hermione's eyebrows knitted together in response and obvious skepticism. "So, how do you explain how cozy the pair of you looked together? Your choice of sleeping arrangements looked a little 'more than friendly' to me..."

"Oh, please," she said sarcastically. "You and Ron got the nice warm chairs by the fire. I can't help it if it gets cold at night in that drafty tower. Harry and I were just seeking body heat," she continued loftily before breaking into a full grin. "Don't you just love cold weather?"

Hermione smiled knowingly for a moment then retreated in silent introspection. She'd been doing this periodically all week, laughing or talking in one moment and quiet and contemplative the next. Ginny was really worried for her friend. They all were.

Ginny recognized Hermione's silent retreat for what it was... an attempt to figure out just where she stood with Malfoy and what she wanted from him. Ginny could relate, she was going through the same thing, but her relationship with Harry was decidedly less complicated than Hermione's was with Malfoy. Ginny didn't think she'd ever understand it. She knew, however, that Hermione wanted something with the Slytherin, and whether that was a rational desire or not, Ginny knew that she'd give Hermione her support. Even if Harry and Ron wouldn't. Especially if they wouldn't.

Something had changed following the Quidditch Match and Malfoy's injury. Before, in the days of his blatant attempt to buy back her affection, Hermione had been vehemently opposed to any sort of reconciliation. But since his fall, and whatever had gone on between the two of them in the hospital wing after the match, Hermione had subtly changed her position. Or seemed to be debating it, either way she would frequently detach herself from conversations, seemingly unaware that she was doing so.

For the last few days Ginny had been trying, in vain, to piece together just what had happened that caused Hermione's recent indecision. She'd gone over every aspect of the match and her conversation in the hospital wing with Harry, hoping to come up with some sort of explanation. Ginny watched her friend carefully, eager to glean some sort of understanding from her pensive expression. But, Hermione's features were carefully schooled and held no answers for her.

For what seemed like the hundredth time in the past few days, Ginny found herself mentally retracing every aspect of the Quidditch match that she could...

* * *

Ginny had been flying on the other side of the pitch, away from both Malfoy and Harry. She had been caught up in her own role as Chaser and hadn't paid any attention to either team's Seekers, that is until Malfoy began the dive for the Snitch. The whole stadium went silent as they watched, transfixed by the scene in front of them. Ginny searched the pitch for Harry, hoping that he'd be able to steal the Snitch from the Malfoy. But he was on the opposite side of the pitch and would never be able to reach it in time.

Ginny, and it seemed virtually every other player from both teams, stopped in amazement as Malfoy dove for the Snitch. Harry flew past her in a blur of red and gold but didn't seem to be chasing after Malfoy, instead it appeared that he was heading straight for Nott.

Harry darted forward, seemingly the only one, who noticed Theodore Nott making his way toward Malfoy, his beady eyes intent on revenge. About halfway towards his target, Nott grabbed Goyle's bat. Harry was too far from Malfoy to engage in any sort of battle for the Snitch, but close enough to Nott to prevent the rabbity Slytherin from attacking. Well, almost close enough...

Just as Malfoy got within range, Nott sent a Bludger sailing across the pitch at his unsuspecting head. Harry didn't even appear to watch Malfoy fall, instead he careened into Nott, knocking the bat from his hand just as the Bludger made contact and sent Malfoy falling from his broom. Harry had braced himself for the collision but Nott had been too preoccupied to even recognize Harry's imminent arrival. Ginny's gaze shifted back and forth from Harry and Nott to Malfoy's body as it fell from the sky.

Harry hated such blatantly unfair play and Ginny knew that he would have done the same thing for any player, regardless of the team they played for. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Actually Ginny was rather surprised by Harry's attempt to help Malfoy. It seemed that the entire stadium was surprised by it, too.

Rapidly tearing her eyes from Harry and Nott, Ginny turned toward Malfoy to watch as he plummeted to the ground below. It all happened so quickly that Ginny was astonished that Dumbledore was able to do anything to stop the blow. But, mere inches from contact, Dumbledore did something that lessened the impact. It was too late to stop Malfoy's body from breaking though.

At first, Ginny thought he might be dead. Even Harry and Nott stopped their fist fight long enough to watch the scene below. The stands were deathly quiet. The professors were just beginning to rush onto the pitch, and Ginny flew quickly down to watch. Ron met her a few seconds after her feet made contact with the ground. He too was staring open mouthed at Malfoy's body.

Malfoy was unconscious and bloodied. His legs were bent at odd angles as were his arms. The back of his head lay open and bleeding from the Bludger. Ginny had never in her life seen as much blood as was steadily pouring from Malfoy's body. A thought crossed her mind quickly but she didn't really register it... He should have been dead.

Dumbledore was bent over him and McGonagall stood at his side, ready to take action. They were all so quiet. Dumbledore muttered some spells and soon the blood had stopped flowing from his skull. She heard the Headmaster whisper to McGonagall that Malfoy's back was broken and would need to be fixed before they could portkey him to the Hospital Wing. The two of them set about fixing his broken bones. They made quick work of it and after a few minutes Malfoy's legs and arms were no longer mangled looking and twisted. Ginny almost felt sorry for him... Almost.

She heard gasping and heavy footsteps coming up behind her at an alarming pace. She had barely turned around to see who it was when Hermione tore past her and Ron and knelt beside Malfoy's prone body.

"He's dead!" she half screeched as she stared transfixed at the boy in front of her.

Ginny could tell that Hermione was near hysterics, but it was Ron who stepped forward and took her arm. He pulled her away from Malfoy's body so that Dumbledore could continue the emergency treatment.

"He's not dead, Hermione. Dumbledore did what he could to break the fall but Malfoy fell so fast... It's okay. They are just fixing his broken bones. He'll be alright. Don't worry." Ron's voice was surprisingly reassuring and Ginny was proud that her brother could so easily calm Hermione down.

Hermione was nodding her head slowly as if letting the words sink in. She wasn't crying but she still looked much too shocked. Ron eventually had to pull her away completely from the growing crowd. Ginny watched for a moment as Ron took Hermione in his arms and whispered comforting words into her ear.

A realization struck her suddenly... Ron had grown up. And then she had an even more disconcerting thought... They all had. None of them were children any longer. The violence of their battle in the Department of Mysteries, and with Hermione's kidnapping that summer... and now with Malfoy's body lying broken and bleeding on the ground, Ginny realized just how close the war was looming on the horizon.

If she looked close enough, hard enough, she could see the signs of it all around her. Any hope that they could ignore it, or wish it away like children, had been eradicated. If the war could be brought to them, through something as close and innocent as a game of Quidditch, then there was no hope for a peaceful settlement, only the realization and necessity of war. It was a scary thought, one that Ginny had hoped she wouldn't have to face. She would only be naïve to ignore it.

Dumbledore took the emergency portkey out of the pocket of his robes and whisked Malfoy away to the Hospital Wing. McGonagall stayed behind to supervise the students. Snape pulled out his wand and Accio-ed Nott down to the ground. She was surprised to see the anger seething just under his skin... Snape looked ready to kill as his eyes trained on Nott's bloodied nose and darkening skin. It was only then that Ginny remembered to look around for Harry. Finally she spotted him; he was still up in the sky on his broom.

He looked funny, like something was really, really wrong. Without thinking Ginny jumped back on her broom and launched herself in Harry's direction. In seconds she pulled up beside him, hovering so close that their legs brushed against each other. His face was contorted in pain and he was clutching his scar with one hand, while keeping a tight grip on his broom handle with the other.

"Harry?" she asked tentatively. "Are you alright?"

He grimaced and looked at her, his glasses broken from his fight with Nott. "He knows. Voldemort knows...He watched it through me. I think he was the one who ordered Nott to do it in the first place."

Ginny froze in place at hearing his name and the accusation in Harry's voice. "Are you sure? I mean Nott could have just wanted revenge on his own for what Malfoy said about his father at the hearing."

"Maybe..." he replied, still clutching his scar and trying to maintain control of his broom.

"Merlin, Harry! You are covered in bruises! We've got to get you to the infirmary!" Ginny yelled authoritatively. When Harry didn't respond she shouted, "Well, come on! Maybe we can get some news about Malfoy..."

Harry nodded quickly and followed her back down to the ground below. Most of the crowd had wandered back to the castle, presumably at the request of one of the professors. Ron was still comforting a visibly shaken Hermione. Ron looked over at them pleadingly when he noticed them land a few feet away. Hermione had her head buried in Ron's Quidditch robes and Ginny couldn't imagine it being a very pleasant experience what with the sweat and dirt caked onto the front of it.

Hermione swiped at her eyes when she realized that they were standing there waiting on her. She looked Harry up and down, taking in the blood and dirt, all tell-tale signs of a fight, and rushed to his side. "Oh, Harry! Are you alright?! I didn't even notice what happened to you, I was too caught up watching Dr - What happened?"

"I'm fine, just got into a bit of a scrape with Nott, that's all. Nothing to worry about," Harry said kindly, obviously trying to soothe Hermione's already frazzled nerves. "Are you alright, Hermione?"

She blushed sheepishly and cast her eyes down at the ground before responding. "I'm fine, Harry. Thank you for asking. It was just a shock, that's all. I was so afraid that he would - that something would happen and I wouldn't get the chance to tell him that I'm not angry at him anymore."

They were all silent for several long seconds before Harry groaned quietly in pain.

"Is it You-Know-Who again, Harry?" Ginny asked quickly, grabbing onto his elbow.

"No, just my damn shoulder, I'm pretty sure I dislocated it. I think you were right Gin, I do need to go the hospital wing."

The four of them all started back towards the school grounds, walking slowly to allow for Harry's aches and pains. It was Hermione who finally broke the silence.

"Wait a minute... What was that about Voldemort?" she asked quickly, Ginny's previous statement finally sinking in.

"He was mad, I could tell that much. He knew though that Malfoy wasn't dead. I'm not really sure how he could have known... He wasn't watching through me, I would have felt it." Ginny noticed the lie. He'd said just minutes before that You-Know-Who had been watching through him... why would he lie?

It was Ron who spoke up next. "Why would he be mad that Malfoy wasn't dead? Sorry, Hermione," he said quickly after earning a glare from her. "I mean, he's supposed to be one of his followers. I wouldn't be surprised if he already was a Death Eater."

"Draco is not a Death Eater, Ronald!" Hermione spat out. "And Voldemort has plenty of reason to want him dead... he did, afterall, give the Ministry the names of all those involved in my kidnapping. And that includes Nott's father. Draco is just as much a target now as any of us, probably more so, with the exception of Harry."

Harry spoke up at the mention of his name. "I agree. As much as I hate to admit it, Malfoy did come clean with the Ministry. Voldemort has plenty of reason to want revenge. I just didn't think it would happen at a Quidditch game..."

Ron still seemed skeptical about Malfoy's importance, and Ginny remained neutral. They continued on for a few more minutes, each absorbed in their own private thoughts, until Ron stopped in front of them and turned around.

"This doesn't make any sense! No matter what you say, Hermione, Malfoy, up until just a few months ago, was quite chummy with all the other Death Eaters... Maybe Nott just did it on his own, you know, as revenge for his father," Ron said quickly, obviously not liking any conclusion that ended with Malfoy being a victim... Ginny privately agreed with him.

Hermione however, was quick to defend the other boy and rounded on Ron in anger. "Do you honestly think that Nott is smart enough to come up with a plan like that on his own? If what Harry says about Voldemort's anger is true, then I think Nott was supposed to try and make it look like an ordinary Quidditch accident. But when Malfoy spotted the Snitch he was forced to act hastily before the game was over. That's why he was so obvious about it," Hermione replied quickly. "But now the whole school knows. I wouldn't be surprised if Nott got expelled or even sentenced to time in Azkaban."

"Do you really think so?" Ginny asked quietly. Hermione did make a rather convincing argument...

"I wouldn't doubt it. Not that a sentence in Azkaban means very much anymore. He'll probably just get busted out by the Death Eaters upon his arrival," Hermione said, anger in her voice. Ginny could hear the fear behind the anger, and the remains of her tears.

Again, they lapsed into silence and continued up the path to the infirmary.

* * *

Hermione didn't know how long she and Ginny had been in the library, probably a considerable amount of time judging from the shift in the rays of sunlight pouring through the windows. When they'd first arrived the sun had reached far into the library, way past the perimeter of their table. But now it barely covered her open book. She noticed vaguely that she hadn't flipped the page in several hours... oh, well. It wasn't like Ginny would give her a hard time about being too caught up in her thoughts to give much effort to the pretense of studying. Ginny, it appeared, seemed caught up in her own private thoughts. Just as well, Hermione thought, there's quite a lot to think about lately.

First and foremost on her mind was, of course, Draco. Draco and his Dark Mark. That had certainly been a surprise. An unwelcome, horrible, hope-dashing surprise. But not an unexpected one. Or it shouldn't have been unexpected, anyway, had Hermione been able to think rationally when she was around him. Even Ron had been able to guess at the truth she had made herself blind to.

The real question was not 'why had he done it,' or 'what did it mean,' because the answers to those questions were obsolete now. The real question was 'what did it change?' Nothing, not really, anyway. Presumably he'd had it since before her kidnapping, and hadn't that been when he'd really gone against Voldemort and his father? Maybe it meant more to her, his denial of his father, now that she knew he had the Mark. Because he'd believed in Voldemort enough to take it, he'd believed in the cause enough to take it. But in the end he'd rescinded. And that is what mattered, anyway.

He'd had the Mark the entire time they'd gotten to know one another. And had he been really awful to her, other than outside Dumbledore's office? That didn't really count in her estimation. The answer was that he hadn't. He'd never lied about it... omitted maybe, but never lied. Hermione was fairly certain that she could have asked him if she'd ever thought about it. Dumbledore probably knew... The Headmaster always seemed to be so much more aware of everything than anyone gave him credit for.

She and Ginny were so caught up in their individual thoughts that it took Hermione a moment to realize that they weren't alone anymore. A shadow fell across the table, scattering the darkening sunlight. She looked up, into the face she'd been avoiding since their confrontation in the hospital wing. Draco.

It took Hermione another moment to tear her eyes off of him. She hadn't really looked at him in days, and hadn't seen him up close since the night she found his Dark Mark. He'd been about to kiss her, then... He stood with his back to the sunlight, his face a myriad of shadows and secrets. His hair caught the light and looked bright and gold, almost angelic, like a halo. His arms were covered by his robe and she couldn't see the Mark. She reluctantly pulled her eyes away, wanting to drink in the sight of him, but unable given the social implications of denied attraction and mutual animosity. It was only then that she realized that he wasn't alone, either.

To Hermione's everlasting surprise, Harry was with him.

Harry looked just as shocked by that fact as she assumed that she did. No one said anything for a moment, and the awkward silence was palpable. She could taste it. Finally it was Ginny who spoke.

"Harry, what's going on? I'm confused... Why is he here?"

Harry shook his head as if to clear it, his eyebrows knitted together as he tried to find the words. "Uh - It's Dumbledore. Apparently Malfoy and I have a lot to talk about. Dumbledore suggested that we sit down together and strategize. Or something."

"What Potter is rather inarticulately trying to say is that we've been ordered by a deranged meddlesome fool to talk to each other," Draco sneered disdainfully. "Without violence," he added, pausing if to consider the futility of such an option.

When no one responded, Draco sighed loudly. "And the old man recommended that you two and Weasley be included," he finished haughtily.

Hermione immediately recognized his defensive posturing for what it was and then realized that she hadn't heard it in quite a while.

Hermione finally connected what Harry and Draco were saying with what Dumbledore had suggested back in his office, what was it, two weeks before? Finally, she thought, we're going to talk about the prophecies...