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C H A P T E R  S I X | confringo

curse. exploding flames set on target.

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THE NEXT MORNING Hermione visits the headmistress to address her absences but McGonagall begins first.

"When Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley told me they wished to graduate early, I thought you might finally have a normal year but Miss Granger, the last few months have been unexpectedly rough. Is everything all right?"

Hermione wants to tell her about the pregnancy because no one else knows but she knows that now is not the time. So, she admits to something else.

"I'm actually rather worried about Draco Malfoy. I have reason to believe that his life is in danger. Tell me there is something that you can do."

Her brows raise. "This is what has been occupying your mind? Tell me, how have you come by this information?"

If Hermione can trust anyone with this kind of knowledge, it's McGonagall. She tells the headmistress about Theodore Nott and the impending threat of the werewolves, and about Lucius betraying his family to save his own skin. It comes as a relief to remove that weight from her shoulders. However, she will withhold Lockheart's deranged cries of a secret plot until she knows more. For now, she can only follow so much.

Moments later, she leaves the office, believing that McGonagall will sort this out. She heads to the emptied classroom where she and Draco perform their Head Boy and Girl duties. She has several tasks that require her attention that she has been putting off while on this whirlwind of the last few days. When she enters the room, he is surprised to see her, bolting upright from his chair across the room.

"Where have you been?" His voice is sharp; his question demanding of an answer.

She wants to embrace him, Merlin knows he could use the support now more than ever. But she continues to walk past him. As she does, she playfully says, "I don't know why you would care." 

Please care.

Several seconds pass before he responds, "I don't."

This time, his voice is flat, as if he's trying very hard to appear apathetic. He doesn't fool her, though.

For the last semester, she's been forced into the same confines as him for their duties. At first, she loathed it, couldn't even register the person working across from her as human. It seemed impossible to believe for a fraction of a second that he had any other facets besides the one she'd grown accustomed to - the snobby blood-purist hell-bent on destroying anyone like her, but as days turned into weeks, she saw the facade fall, ever so slowly, to reveal someone who is, for the most part, comfortable around her, honest.

She has reason to believe that the archaic views were not his own but those modeled after his own parents' beliefs, just as she had been raised to believe there is good and justice in the world. In the end, he chose to work against his family and Voldemort. The small part he played helped them save the world.

By winter, there were no more unwarranted sneers, like when they were kids. No more jabs at her blood status. Instead, he would bring her treats when they would have to work late and in the mornings, some of her favorite drinks from the kitchens would be waiting on her desk.

And, yes. Their shoddy representation of friendship has been rocky the last few weeks, but it's only because they crossed a barrier that probably should have been left untouched. Still, she knows when something is bothering him and she can't let it go without seeing what she can do to help ease his burdens, even if it means just answering his question.

"I was admitted to St. Mungo's. I went to the Ministry and I suppose that I must've passed out. I'm all right though."

"You could have just told me. You seemed fine when I left. Are you positive that you're all right?" His crystal eyes burrow into hers.

Her cheeks burn in response.

"We saw each other yesterday?"

Eye contact breaks as he looks away, at anywhere but her.

"Yeah, at my father's trial. You asked if we could see each other after your interview. I waited for you." His cheeks flush pink.

Had she ever seen him blush? The sentiment crushes her as she realizes this must be why he was so short with her upon her arrival. She wants to reach out to him, but he turns. She asks how the trial went.

He pulls away from her dramatically. "Look, why don't you get some rest? I've finished up everything in here anyway."

As he packs up his belongings, the door to the classroom opens with a loud creak, directing both of their attention across the room.

Pansy Parkinson enters. She struts to the pair, seemingly on a mission. When she stops, she ignores Hermione, turning to Draco instead.

"Bloody hell. You look like an absolute mess," she says, appalled by his disheveled appearance. "Your mum is downstairs waiting for you. Get cleaned up, and do it before she searches the halls for you herself."

As soon as he disappears, Pansy turns to Hermione, crossing her arms in the same motion.

"You're close with Ron Weasley, aren't you?"

Hermione stares at the raven-haired woman. She and Ron hadn't spoken since that autumn at the Burrow before they parted ways for the school year, calling off their relationship completely. It was for the better, honestly, but still, she wonders if they could even be considered 'close' anymore.

Before she can say a word, Pansy starts again.

"I know that we've never been close -"

"You actually hate me," Hermione interrupts.

"I might not have liked you, Granger, but I certainly have never hated you. I'd have to care to get to that depth of emotion."

Hermione scoffs, suddenly realizing that she owes this girl nothing. She proceeds to walk past her but Pansy seems determined.

"I only ask because I need to know if he's always so distant." Pansy's voice trails off.

Hermione turns back in awe and bewilderment.

"You see, we've been talking for some time now but recently, he's grown quiet and distant, as I've said. Was he like this with you? I heard rumors almost my entire time at this school that you two were on and off again."

"Uh, yeah, I guess he could be. Ron's sweet but also an idiot when it comes to romance. He'll come around, I'm sure."

Pansy smiles, seemingly reassured by Hermione's answer. When their eyes connect, Pansy says she has one more thing to tell her.

"Listen, I need another volunteer to join our blood drive. It's at St. Mungo's. You just have to hand out drinks and some treats. You get a free day from coursework, although I'm sure that sounds like torture to you."

She rolls her eyes. "I like free time, too, but yes, I'd love to help. When is it?"

"Next Saturday," she replies. "Nine, sharp."

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