Chapter 11
"Well you kids best be off now, and tell Ron teh swing by for 'o bit, eh?" Hagrid said. "It's 'o shame that you two are fightin' again, but no matter, you always seem right in the end. . . Alright get goin', McGonagall will have my head if yer not back for dinner."
"Thanks again for the tea Hagrid, we'll come down tomorrow after classes and tell you how everything went," Hermione said waving goodbye to their friend.
"Bye Hagrid!" The trio called back.
As they walked up the grounds Hermione noticed the sun starting to set, and darkness creep in. Harry spat something in a bush nearby; Hermione and Ginny gave him an odd look.
"I had one of Hagrid's rock cakes in my mouth forever and it still didn't soften. What do you reckon he puts in them?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Maybe it's really a rock covered in cake crumbs," Ginny suggested.
And that's how they spent their journey up to the castle: guessing what Hagrid put in his rock hard fruitcakes.
The three Gryffindors made their way into the Great Hall once again, sitting in their normal seats at the very end of the table.
"Hey, do you see Ron?" Harry asked craning his neck to see past their fellow housemates.
"No—oh wait, he's over there with Dean and Seamus." Ginny said pointing down aways.
"Bloody bloke," Harry mumbled and turned to Hermione. "How much longer are you not going to talk to him?"
"I don't know, and frankly it doesn't matter. It's not like he's going to talk to me either." Hermione said loading her plate with chicken and potatoes. She saw Harry give Ginny a look. "Oh come on, I may be stubborn but Ron is way worse!"
"You two should talk it out. . . You know. . . Figure out what went wrong and—" Harry began nonchalantly.
Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "Harry why are you being so persistent? It's not like there's anything in it for you if Ron and I make up."
"Of course there is! You and Ron are my best friends and I want you to be happy, and—" He said nervously pushing his food around his plate.
"'And'— and what?" Hermione started angrily.
"And our first Qudditch match is next Friday against Ravenclaw which means Ron can't still be mad at you because he's horrible when he has a lot on his mind—no, Hermione please don't go! Just talk to him."
Hermione had shoveled the remainder of her food in her mouth and grabbed her wand as she began to stand up.
"Where you in on this too?" Hermione scowled, pointing her wand threateningly at Ginny. "Wanting me to make up with Ron so you won't lose at Qudditch?"
Ginny slowly put her hand on Hermione's, lowing her wand away from her face, and spoke calmly. "It's true, Ron's rubbish when he has a lot on his plate, but what Harry was trying to say before," she looked daggers at her boyfriend, "–was that he doesn't—we don't want this to affect your friendship. You've been friends with Ron for how long? Seven? Eight years? Just because your relationship with him didn't work, it doesn't mean you still can't be friends and put this whole matter aside, right?" Ginny smiled.
Hermione raised her eyebrows, unimpressed at her friends feeble attempt to get her to work out her problems, she stared at them with a stone-like face. "As much fun as this was, I've got to run, I don't want to get caught up walking with Malfoy to our common room."
And with that, Hermione spun on her heel and stalked out the Great Hall and up the spiral staircase.
When Hermione closed the portrait door behind her, she was shocked to see Draco already back; sitting comfortably in his armchair reading the latest Daily Prophet issue.
"Hello Granger," he drawled. "Have a lovely dinner?"
The smirk on his face showed that he must had seen her heated conversation with her friends.
"It was bloody brilliant," she said through clenched teeth just before she slammed her bedroom door.
He stopped mid-chuckle when he suddenly remembered something that made him smirk even more.
"Oi Granger, I've only just remembered that we have to patrol tonight."
A strangled scream came from inside her room. Classic.
Draco stood and walked to his room, closing the door tightly behind him. He threw the Daily Prophet on his bed. Ever since the end of the war the paper hadn't been nearly depressing at it usually was; now it was filled with rubbish articles about old witches and wizards, pointless Ministry matters, and one page dedicated to the Auror cases and Azkaban sentences. That was the one he normally turned to. Eerily he thought back to the times when his father had been mentioned in various articles.
A tap on his window brought him out of his reverie. A small tawny barn owl sat on his windowsill, it lifted its leg showing a tied bit of rolled parchment. He strode to the window and let the owl in. It flapped annoyingly around his head until he snatched the little ball of fur out of the air and untied the message. The owl nipped at his ear, asking for some sort of payment, but ever since his eagle owl had been murdered, Draco had no longer carried around treats.
"Sorry," he shrugged.
The owl hooted disappointedly and flew out the window and into the night sky.
Draco sat on the edge of his bed and unrolled the parchment, his fingers trembling. Once more, all the message displayed was a single word: Befriend.
-•-•-•-•-
"This is stupid," Draco mumbled.
Hermione rolled her eyes. How many more times was he going to state the obvious? They hadn't seen a single person roaming the halls later that night; not even a teacher.
Although, they had caught a glimpse of Peeves lurking behind a suit of armor, trying to sneak up on Mr. Filch's cat, Ms. Norris; they quickly veered in the opposite direction.
"Who patrols tomorrow night? I don't want to spend another evening with you if I can help it," Draco sneered.
Hermione shot him a tired yet annoyed look, "Terry and Ginny."
Draco gave a satisfied smirk, "Good, now Blaise and I can go to the Quidditch pitch—"
"Did I ask?" Hermione retorted.
Draco looked taken aback by her sudden surliness and decided he would make matters worse if he were to take advantage of her annoyance level. He whistled, "Not very friendly."
She snorted, "Your one to talk."
He cast a look at her from the other side of the corridor. Hermione had her arms crossed tightly against her chest, her wand clutched in her hand. She walked briskly as if wanting their time together to be as short as possible. Her face was hard and emotionless, except for her eyes. They traveled all along the empty corridor, scanning for anything that might be out of place, they were bright and alert yet something about them looked exhausted.
His eyes too held that same tiredness to them. In fact, Draco couldn't seem to name a single person in that castle who didn't look beat. He supposed it was from nightmares and the constant tossing and turning every night. The ability to sleep seemed to evade everyone.
Draco felt a pang of guilt, Hermione was right, who was he to judge her. Sure, there's a time when everyone gets a little cross, Granger seemed to only be so when she was around him or the Weasel, but cross was one of Draco's most prominent emotions. He had a knack for being particularly ill-tempered and nine out of the ten times it got him into trouble or made him more enemies.
Draco realized that he couldn't afford to make more enemies, it would ruin his promise to McGonagall and the Minister of Magic and would lose his position as Head Boy. He understood what he had to do. Draco had get on better terms with his foes, and the only way to achieve that was to apologize. Befriend was what the letter had said. Once again the thought of Death Eaters sending him the note popped into his brain. Could this all be some sort of set up? Draco shook his head, of course it couldn't, he was just being paranoid. He had to end his feud.
It hurt him to have to think about saying sorry to all the big headed Gryffindorks, Potter and Company in particular. It would not be an easy task, none of them seemed to want anything to do with him, although, he couldn't blame them.
Draco sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, finalizing his decision. He and Granger seemed to be on their final loop around the castle. They starting making their way towards the Gryffindor tower. Draco knew that after she chatted with her friends, Granger would reach the common room, and she head straight to bed.
"Granger?"
"What?" She said snapped.
Draco's heart pounded, for what he was about to do would send him over the edge, but he knew he had to do it. He ran another hand though his hair.
"Are your little friends going to be awake?" He asked tentatively.
"It's only ten o'clock Malfoy."
"Well I didn't know, Potter comes off as an old lady type, going to bed at 7:30 on a school night."
As they reached the Fat Lady's portrait Hermione gave her the password and the door swung open. The two Heads walked inside to find Harry, Ron, and Ginny by the roaring fire.
Weasley spotted them first.
"Ugh back again are you," he sneered.
Draco rolled his eyes at the redhead's incompetence but refrained with all his might not to reply with a snarky comment. "No worries Weaselbee, I'm here talk."
Potter stood with the rest of his gang behind him, Granger off to the side in between him and her normal group; Draco figured she must be on rocky terms with them.
"Right, like hell you are," said Weaselette with a snort.
"No, I'm serious," he said looking between each Gryffindor. He took a deep breath and began, this was going to suck. "Look I'm just going to say it. . . I surrender, I'm calling for a truce. I'm done, call me a coward, but I'm tired of doing this and so are almost all the other Slytherins. I'm not saying that we have to hold hands or paint each other's nails or anything daft like that, I just don't want to be worried with the stupid rivalry anymore. I mean, didn't McGonagall say all houses should get along if we want all this war drama to finally go away?" Draco aimed this last part at Hermione which made her shift uncomfortably, but after a moments hesitation, she nodded.
Weasel gaped at her, "Hermione, don't tell me your actually considering what this git just said."
"Well he's not wrong," she shot at him. "It's true, you heard what McGonagall said . . .and to be quite frank, I do think the rivalry is bit silly."
Weaselette seemed to consider her friends words but asked, "How do we know he's not lying? What's in it for us?"
"Would I lie to you?" Draco asked, but realized his mistake when Potter began to open his mouth. "Okay, forget that, but. . . Well, you asked what's in it for you? Anything. I'll do anything you lot want, except something that with result in me getting hurt, dying, or getting thrown out of Hogwarts. You each get one request, besides Potty, I'll give you two, and everything else is fair game."
The room was absolutely silent save for the crackling of the the fire in the hearth. Potter was the first to speak, "Let us think about it."
Draco scoffed but figured they at least seemed to be considering his offer. "Alright fine."
Granger cleared her throat and glanced at Scarhead and the She-Weasel. "We can also admit that we've done some pretty nasty things to you, so to be fair, we'll abide by the rules as well," said Hermione.
Potter and Weasley looked like they were about to explode but thought twice when they received glares from the two Gryffindor girls. "Okay," they mumbled.
Granger looked triumphant then turned back grimly to her friends, "I'd better go, we should all get a good nights sleep for tomorrow."
And so Draco and Hermione journeyed out the portrait hole and traveled silently down the moving staircases and back to their common room.
-•-•-•-•-
The next morning Hermione woke to the sounds of chirping birds and the feel of the sun, warm on her face. She stretched and rose from her bed, walking to her window, Hermione pushed it open and took a breath of early morning air. The sun was risen up just above the mountains, the sky was bright blue, not a single cloud occupied its vastness. A grin spread itself across her face. It was day one of her final year at Hogwarts and Hermione had promised herself to make the most it.
Hermione yawned and walked to the bathroom. After triple checking that she had locked both sides of the door, she turned on the shower, and ran her fingers under the water. She undressed and stepped in, grateful for the spray of scalding water on her skin, waking her instantly. Washed her face and scrubbed her hair throughly. Once she rinsed herself, Hermione got out and wrapped a red towel around herself tightly.
With the faucet off she could hear Malfoy on the other side of the door, no doubt getting ready. Quickly she scurried out the bathroom and into her room where she hastily pulled on her skirt and blouse, then fixed on her Gryffindor tie. As she did, she thought of Malfoy and the night before, how he had offered a truce and the promise to give them all something in return. She wondered, if he wasn't lying, what would she ask him for? Hermione dried her hair with her wand, the dark curly ringlets cascaded down her shoulders. Still pondering her answer she collected her books and quills and stuffed them in her bag; she slung it over her shoulder and walked out of her room, through the common room and out the portrait hole.
Hermione bid Lupin a good morning and ambled down the corridors, descending the moving staircases one by one. She finally decided what should would ask Malfoy for if, once again, he wasn't lying. As she neared the Entrance Hall, Hermione found herself realizing another problem. Her argument with Harry and Ginny.
She hadn't really meant to explode at them during dinner that previous night. It was wrong of her to to let out all her anger on the pair when it was actually meant for Ron.
Hermione entered the Great Hall. There were a good amount of students present already, mostly eager Ravenclaws who were ready to start their lessons, and to her surprise and convince, the two people she needed to a talk to.
Ginny and Harry sat at their usual spot at the end of the Gryffindor table. Hermione walked to the other side of the bench and stood in front of the two. She offered them a timid smile.
"I would like to apologize, for my attitude last night at dinner . . . and well, I was hoping I could still sit with you guys." Hermione said biting on the inside of her cheek.
Harry looked taken aback and motioned for her to sit. "Of course you can, but you have no need to apologize Hermione, Ginny and I pushed you too much last night and we had no right to. This argument is between you and Ron, and we don't want to get in the middle of it, so we are the sorry ones."
"Thank you Harry," she said gratefully. Hermione sat and grabbed a piece of toast and began buttering it. "So, are you two ready for classes? Personally, I'm excited for the start of the term, it's our final year here and we get to take our N.E.W.T.s!"
"Only you'd be excited for N.E.W.T.s Hermione," Ginny laughed.
Hermione shrugged and took a sip from her glass of orange juice. Peering around the hall she spotted the back of Luna's head at the Ravenclaw table and several other friends from different houses, chatting airily. She drifted her gaze to staff table in the front of the room. McGonagall's seat in the middle was empty, but Professor Flitwick, Sprout, Slughorn, Vector, and even Hagrid sat eating breakfast and conversing about their lessons for the day. That was when a certain figure at the end of the table, where Professor Snape used to sit, caught her eye, "Hey!"
Harry and Ginny looked up expectantly. Hermione tilted her head in the man's direction, Harry and Ginny followed her motion. They both looked as confused as Hermione felt.
The man looked around Lupin's age, possibly a little younger. His hair was dark brown, so dark it looked nearly black, it was cropped short and brushed to the side. His face was what really stood out. This man looked a lot like their old menacing potions master. His lips were curled in the same look of disgust Snape's used to be whenever he looked at Harry, his face held no emotion as he brought a spoonful of oatmeal to his mouth. His eyes, like his hair, were dark brown, they scanned the hall as if trying to weed out the troublemakers. He had the same rigidness and authoritative aura that Mad Eye Moody used to have. Whoever this man was he didn't seem like someone you'd want to mess with.
"Who do you suppose he is?" Harry whispered.
"Probably the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Hermione guessed.
"Reminds be me a bit of Snape," Ginny said still staring at the new professor.
"Same," Harry and Hermione chorused.
They ate silently for awhile, more and more students began spilling into the hall. The presence of the man who sat in Snape's old seat did not go unnoticed. Whispers could be heard from the other house tables, they too were wondering what role this professor would play.
"It'll be easy this year don't you think? Defense Against the Dark Arts I mean, we've already learned more defensive spells then half the school," Harry said.
"We'll find out Thursday. . . Although, there's always more to learn."
"I guess so."
Hermione, Harry, and Ginny finished the rest of their breakfast, grabbed their bags, and headed out of the Great Hall, making their way to their first Transfiguration lesson of the year.
Hey guys!! So sorry this chapter took forever, these next few ones will get the story going but like I said before I swear it will get better!! Keep reading, I hope you all enjoy!