Unofficial Portkey Archive

Blue-Eyed Angel

Chapter Fourteen

Draco stood in the room with Harry Potter at his feet: disarmed, bleeding, and helpless, Draco's wand pointed down at him. To Draco's back was a Death Eater, Macnair.

"Prat," Harry spat at Draco, surprisingly calm given the situation. Draco was not calm. On the outside he looked it, relatively, but on the inside he was in the midst of a full-on panicked episode.

"Do it, Malfoy. Do it," Macnair encouraged, wounded and disarmed himself -literally- at that moment. His right arm was gone, but none-too-cleanly, thanks to Harry. Draco had been there to overtake the boy-who-lived in all the distraction and now Harry was at his mercy.

"Would your precious Dark Lord really want you to kill me? I thought he wanted to have the pleasure," Harry spat, glaring at Draco, able to see the weakness in Draco's eyes and trying to exploit it at that moment. He had seen how poorly Draco had performed under pressure on the rooftop of the Astronomy Tower; he did not honestly feel Draco was the real threat to him in that room. He worried about Macnair getting Draco's wand from him. Harry saw his own wand on the floor, against the far wall where Draco had banished it with the disarming spell.

Harry tired to "Accio" it silently, but silent spells were hard enough even with a wand.

This was the first time Harry Potter had come face to face with Draco Malfoy since that night. It was now December and Draco seemed as uncertain as ever and very ill. His hair was grown out to his shoulders, and was far less sleek and shiny than it used to be. Draco was also very thin looking, like Lupin often looked, with the sunken-in cheeks and dark circles under his fair eyes. The war had not been kind to him it seemed while he was on the run from the Ministry.

"Do it," Macnair said, growling, Draco looking between the two as each spoke to him.

"You're not a killer, Draco," Harry said and Draco's attention reeled over to him. His eyes widened and he looked at Harry as though haunted.

"What did you say?" he whispered.

"Let's go, Malfoy," Macnair shouted.

"No!" Draco said, snapping over his shoulder at the man, "No, what did you just say!" Draco demanded, pointing his wand at Harry firmly despite how his insides quivered.

"You are not a killer," Harry repeated. Draco looked at him for a long moment, making very purposeful eye contact and Harry knew he was a Legilimens as well as an Occlumens, and opened himself up more -more than he probably needed to- to remind Draco of that night Dumbledore had died, making it known to Draco that he had been there, that he had seen Draco's wand lower slightly at Dumbledore's offer. He would have said more out loud, but not with Macnair there with them…he could not do that to Draco, he was sure Draco had suffered enough at the hands of the Dark Lord already for having failed in his task that summer.

"Stun him and let's GO," Macnair ordered, Draco looking over at him helpless at that point, torn. Harry's plan was working, Draco had looked into his mind and was now uncertain and hesitating, faltering around the edges.

"Draco, you considered his offer, even for just a moment, that night," Harry reminded him, careful not to say too much, using Draco's name, trying to appeal to Draco's need to cling to someone, Macnair certainly scaring him enough that he could possibly turn to him, Harry, for shelter. "I saw you struggle with your task throughout the year and that night, I saw the effect his words had had on you," he said and Draco looked away, feeling exposed, feeling vulnerable and naked, atop of conflicted and unsure.

"Shut up, Potter! Draco, silence him," Macnair said.

"You know this is wrong, Draco-"

"Kill him-"

"You can't do it-"

"NOW!"

"DRACO!"

Draco closed his eyes and balled his hands into fists on either side of his head, still clutching his wand, Harry and Macnair both yelling at him, him trapped in the middle and unsure what to do. He wanted to run away, he wanted to flee and be no part of this. He couldn't though. What could he do?

Draco, without opening his eyes, pointed his wand and sent a curse. It was a full body-bind.

The flash of light passed and Harry was left kneeling…Macnair tipped over.

Harry was counting on Draco to attack Macnair, but he was still mildly surprised that he had actually done it. He made to stand and Draco rounded on him, pointing his wand at Harry and Harry froze.

"Draco-"

"Shut up," he snarled, eyes a little wild. "You were there that night?"

"You know I was, you saw it, you saw my memories," he said calmly. "I know Voldemort," -Draco flinched- "threatened you, and your family. I know you were doing only what you had to, to protect them," he said and Draco looked away.

"Who have you told of that night?" he demanded.

"No one," he said, lying of course while at the tip of a wand, the one wheedling it none-too-sound-of-mind at the moment. He had told Ron and Hermione.

"You are lying," Draco glared back at him, wand still pointed, and Harry sighed. He supposed lying to someone who could basically read his mind was a little futile and unwise. He really wished he hadn't blown Snape off with the Occlumency lessions at that point.

"If you know that, then you know I told no one of any significance to you, of your secret," he said calmly, trying to talk Draco down so he would lower his wand.

Draco had a nasty crescent bruise around the outer edge of his left eye and a split but healing bottom lip. Harry himself was bruised, nose bleeding still. They all looked a little worse for wear. With every day there being more fighting, running, falling, jumping; there were just too many little minor injuries to heal.

"What secret?" Draco spat.

"That you are not a killer, that you are not a true Death Eater," he said,

"Shut up!" Draco shouted, looking over at Macnair. He was unconscious from the fall hitting his head, but still, Harry should not say such things, such lies! "I have been serving the Dark Lord faithfully for months! I have endured his trials and passed his tests!"

"You have, and I don't doubt that you hate Muggle-borns and `Half-bloods', but I saw you consider Dumbledore's offer. That's why you are here now, talking to me rather than cursing me. I know it's true, Draco. You are only here because you are being forced into this, with threats, with intimidation. You did not choose this any more than I chose to be `the-boy-who-lived,'" he said and Draco looked ready to curse him at that point.

"You know nothing about me, Potter. NOTHING! I chose to serve the Dark Lord, it is what I wanted! I got desperate, and I buckled under the pressure that night, but I'm stronger now. I will do whatever it takes, whatever is asked of me!"

"Then why did you curse Macnair and not me?" Harry quipped and Draco's eyes widened just a touch.

"Shut up!" he shouted, his logic failing him.

"Draco, I know you are a good person, somewhere deep, deep down. It's probably a part of you that you have suppressed and locked away because you were raised to believe that it is a weakness to let it be known that you care about others, that you have compassion, but Draco, I see it in you."

"What do you want from me? I'm not you, or one of your great Gryffindor crusaders."

"You could be," he said, not meaning Draco could be him, but a "crusader" for good.

"You offering to protect me now? Dumbledore tried, but he could not even protect himself, and you are disarmed and helpless as he was…how are you to protect me?"

"I would try."

"What do you want from me?" Draco demanded again.

"In offering you help, do I have to want something from you, in return? Other than for you to maybe lower your wand?" Harry said, trying to calm Draco like a man on the edge. Draco looked at his wand as though he was surprised it was still in his hand let alone pointing at Harry. He lowered it slowly to hold it at his side.

"Nothing in the world is free and no one offers anything without expecting something in return. Everyone wants something in this world, everyone wants something from me it seems," he said.

"I don't think that's true, Draco," he said calmly, "but, how about a little honesty from you? That a lot to ask if I must? I'm sure you are not as bad and as merciless and cruel as you try to be, but I am not truly sure what side you are on."

"Don't be condescending, Potter," Draco warned.

"Explain to me what happened that night. How could I have misjudged you for so many years?" he said and Draco swallowed hard. Still looking torn, edging anger. That anger spilled over quickly.

"I'm a coward, is that what you want to hear, Potter? I'm a bloody coward!" Draco snapped, pointing his wand back at Harry and Harry holding his breath. "I have never had to do a thing all on my own and I have always had someone at my back. I'm sure when you are in a sticky spot you would like someone at your back too."

"I have been in sticky spots, and I would have liked to have my friends with me, but it always seems that, in the end, I have to stand alone against something terrible."

"Well, forgive ME for my first stand going so wrong. I couldn't act alone, I had to linger there until the Death Eaters could join me, but in the end I couldn't do it even with them there. I'm sure you are so disappointed, like everyone else, that I couldn't manage to kill Dumbledore," he seethed, his eyes looking harsh, or on the verge of tears.

"Draco, it is no shame to not be able to kill. Most would see that as a redeeming quality," he said and Draco scoffed at that.

"What do you want from me, Potter?" he asked again, hiding his eyes from the other boy with his pale hair so he wouldn't see the weakness in them his emotion gave, knowing that had been a weakness Dumbledore had explaited on that roof top.

"The truth," he said firmly, feeling courageous despite the wand pointed at him. "For once in your life speak for yourself, about your own feelings, not tainted by what others have told you to say or do, or because it's what is expected of you. Tell me what you really want."

"I don't know what I want," he said, sounding closer to tears now, lost and small sounding. "I have never gotten what I wanted. I mean, not when it comes to my life. I grew up offered every material thing I could ever want, but I had no control over the outcome of my life. I don't know what I want, because I have never before been in a position to think for myself, all by myself."

"What did you want all those years, while people were telling you what to say, where to go, and how to dress? Surely you resented it. What did you want then?"

"Honestly?" Draco said, daring a glance over at Harry again, his wand only vaguely pointing in the direction of the other wizard at that point. "I wanted to be you," he confessed and Harry blinked.

"What?" he managed. That was not the answer he had expected in the least.

"Harry Potter who could do no wrong, so perfect, so untouchable. Adored and admired by everyone, for what? Because your mother cast a clever charm before she…died?" he asked, bitterness coming through in his voice now to hide his embarrassment. "Oh how I resented you all those years at Hogwarts. You, who time after TIME broke school rules with minimal, if any, punishment, you who was the favorite of Dumbledore and the other teachers, you who was always on the lips of every gossiping student, you who made the Prophet time and time again. You, a poorer student than I by far, but who got all the glory for luck and circumstance while I worked my arse off to get little if any recognition! The only name I could make for myself was the boy that hated YOU!" he said and Harry looked taken aback. He had no idea any of this. He had figured Draco had hated him for all sorts of reasons, but because he was jealous? He had only humored that idea for a short time year and years ago. Draco's persistent loathing of him he figured to have deeper roots than just envy.

"I extended to you my friendship when we were young, at the start of our first year, and you turned me away, humiliated me!" he said and Harry felt his stomach irk. It was more than just envy, Draco felt rejected, he was scorned. "I then spent the rest of the year being showed up by you over and over again! You on the Quidditch team, getting me detention because of YOUR rule breaking, winning the House Cup for Gryffindor because of yet more rule breaking! And then that damned Mudblood Granger, showing me up in every class. Oh how my father loved to berate me for being second in the class to a Muggle-born!"

"Draco-"

"What do I want, Potter? To, for one time in my LIFE, be appreciated for what I am capable of, not only recognized because I'm one of the few people not willing to bend over and kiss your arse!" he shouted, his wand pointing at Harry firmly again and Harry was sure he was about to be cursed.

"You are capable of more than this, this, servitude of the Dark Lord," Harry attempted.

"You'd have me serve the Order of Phoenix instead? That'd be so much better?" Draco retorted and Harry sighed, trying a different angle now.

"You are a talented wizard, Malfoy, a good student," he said.

"Glad someone acknowledges that now," he said bitterly.

"You made Prefect-"

"So did Weasley," he scoffed.

"You could use those skills you have for good," Harry offered, not losing a beat when Draco shot him down. Draco was an Occlumens and Legilimens, that was very rare. And though clearly new at it still, Draco was very talented, he could be so useful, and very powerful, if only he would stop clinging to his failing ambitions and to do the right thing, for once.

"Good and evil is all relative, Potter. It's how you look at things that makes it bad or good."

"Surely you can't see what you are a part of now as good," Harry argued.

"It is familiar, and safe…something I have known my whole life and can hold to. It's one of the few things I have left."

"I can offer you more."

"Still pushing that offer?" Draco spat.

"It never left the table, not since Dumbledore placed it before you those months ago. He saw something in you, and I trust his judgment."

"He also trusted Snape," Draco said, cutting Harry deeply with that remark. Harry had to be silent for a moment to regain himself. He hadn't seen Snape since that night, but Draco had. Draco didn't trust that man, and couldn't understand why Dumbledore or the Dark Lord had or did. If Draco was uncertain, Snape was utterly ambiguous.

"Draco, you are hurt, and frustrated, and scared. I see that, I know that now. But things won't be any better for you if you stick with the Dark Lord. Look at the outcome? Say the Dark Lord falls. Then where would you be? Executed by Aurors as you flee? Sent to Azkaban for the rest of your life? Say the Dark Lord wins, what would you be? A scared and oppressed follower, no slave, forever terrified of displeasing him and facing his wrath and punishments?" he said and Draco whitened.

What did Harry know of the Dark Lord's punishments?

"You don't know…you…" Draco said, looking around, anywhere but at Harry. "I can't do this. I can't help you," he said.

"Why?"

"He will know, he will kill my mother, he…"

"I will find a way, with the help of the Order, to protect her. She is not a Death Eater?"

"No," Draco said firmly.

"Are you?" Harry asked, looking at Draco's left arm.

Draco groaned in a helpless manner and fell to his knees. He knelt there feet from Harry, face to face but looking away. He pulled up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark. Harry took a deep breath.

"I thought it was the Mark you had showed the shop keeper over the summer in Knockturn Alley," he said softly.

"What?" Draco said, blinking.

"Over the summer before our sixth year, when we met in Diagon Alley and you had flipped out in the robe shop, we…Hermione, Ron, and I…saw you sneak off to Knockturn Alley alone and we followed. You showed a shop keeper there something on your left arm while threatening him. We didn't see what it was, but I told Ron and Hermione that it had to have been the Dark Mark, but they wouldn't believe me," he explained.

"Well, they were right to disagree, because you were wrong," Draco said, letting his arms fall between his kneeling legs, wand held so loosely in his left hand.

"What?"

"I did not get the Mark until after my seventeenth birthday, after the whole mess on the Astronomy Tower. What I showed Mr. Borgin in Borgin & Burkes were scars, not a Dark Mark," he said, turning his arm over to reveal the horrific werewolf scars there, feeling worn out and empty at that point.

"Scars?" Harry asked, not fully understanding while staring at Draco's arm, the scars there.

"You didn't hear, or remember by chance, the name I dropped while showing him my arm?" Draco asked, still looking down.

Harry thought for a moment, and it then hit him.

"Greyback," he gasped. Draco made no reaction what-so-ever; he just knelt there, staring at the floor to Harry's right, looking outright depressed. "Draco, you're a werewolf?" Harry exclaimed, not exactly making it a question.

"I don't think even the Order could help me now," Draco said, still staring at that spot on the floor.

"How…when did this happen?"

"Earlier that summer, the night I had gotten home from Hogwarts actually. It was the Dark Lord punishing my father, because you sent him to Azkaban," Draco said, glaring finally at Harry and Harry gulping.

"Draco, I, I had no intention of…I did not know that…" he said, trying not to look at Draco's wand so as to maybe draw attention to it.

"You can't help me, nor can the Order. The werewolves have sided with the Dark Lord, and they are all that I have," he said.

"No, not all the werewolves have. We, the Order, have Lupin and some others that have followed him," Harry urged.

"Lupin, Remus Lupin, our old, sickly Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will protect me?" he said, obviously lacking faith in the man. He had seen him since the summer, preaching to the wolves in the underground about the promises the Order of the Phoenix was offering. Draco had paid the man no mind and had carefully avoided him for months.

Harry stood slowly, preparing for Draco to try and stop him, but he didn't. He stood before Draco and looked down.

"Draco," he said, holding out his hand in a reversal of the second time they had met. "I know this is not exactly an extension of friendship, but come with me, join the Order. It is a better option than what you have now. At least it is an option, one you can choose to take, one that actually has a possibility at a happy outcome," he said. Draco looked up at him. "I can't promise you much, but I can promise you a chance…a chance to do the right thing, for once in your life…even if it is just to help yourself."

Draco looked up at Harry for a very long, drawn-out moment. Draco stood, ever-so-slowly, never breaking eye contact. Harry's hand was still extended between them and Draco glared. Harry did not flinch or look away, knowing this was a test and Draco's next actions hinged completely on his firm resolve, on his firm gaze. Draco raised his right hand, his wand in his left still, and he very slowly reached out to Harry.

They gripped hands in a very firm but very brief shake, both holding very serious and slightly mistrustful glares.

"I want to be free of him, by any means necessary…even if that means dying. There are fates worse than death, even if he doesn't believe so," he said, speaking of the Dark Lord.

"I will try to not get you killed," Harry assured.

Draco woke with a gasp to find himself alone in his bed. Ginny was not there with him.

Had she been part of the dream? Well, what he had just woken to had not actually been a dream, just another terrible memory.

He rarely dreamed anymore.

Mostly he remembered.

It was an unfortunate side-effect of being a Legilimens.

Rolling over with a groan he saw a long red hair on his pillow. He picked it up in his fingertips and smiled.

She hadn't been a dream, and that realization came with a wash of relief.

That was enough to get him to forget his terrible memory that had woken him and actually smile.

He tried moving a little bit more and he was stiff, but there was less pain.

Thinking that was good he attempted to stand. He got to his feet and swayed. To stop from falling he took a few quick steps which left him beside his dresser.

That wasn't as easy as he would have liked it, but he managed.

Standing there, feeling sluggish and quivering like his blood sugar was low, he cursed when his knees gave out suddenly. He braced himself on his dresser, but his knees hit the front of it hard, causing the bottles, picture frames, and hairbrush to rattle and him to curse again at the pain.

The potion Reamann had made him certainly had helped, as had the nap, but he was still weak. A potion meant for healing could not help that.

Draco, having just thought of Reamann, groaned. Would he have to apologize to the other man? He hated apologizing, to anyone, but especially when he had been perfectly justified in his anger. He had to make nice though, because he was now apparently dating the same woman as Reamann.

That seemed a little awkward. He could only imagine how much fun going to work was going to be.

That made him think. Ginny lived with Reamann, how did she plan on getting away to see him? Sure Reamann would be busy with the case, but that would also mean so would he. When would they have time to do, well, anything?

He decided to leave all that to Ginny. She was the one that wanted to cheat on the guy, so he would let her hammer out the details. He had far too much on his plate already.

There was a ball in less than four days that he would apparently be attending.

Had he really agreed to that?

He was such a softy, it was pathetic.

Walking slowly, stiffly, with much aid from his cane, feeling chilled now and wrapping his free arm around him to pull his wooly jumper closer, he left his room to walk straight into the living room. His mother was there, sipping coffee and reading a book. It must have been early evening, how long had he been asleep?

"Mum?" he said softly. Narcissa looked up from her book while still curled up in the squishy and slightly lumpy chair with the afghan across her lap.

"Oh, Angel, baby, you're up finally," she said, marking her page and closing her book as she stood. "Are you hungry? I'll make you something," she offered, walking over to him, feeling his forehead for a moment and then sliding her hand down to cup his cheek and chin.

"Where did Ginny go?" he asked softly, smiling faintly at his mother's predictable fussiness.

Narcissa's face remained remarkably unchanged but she scrunched her nose up a bit, like there was a bad smell directly below it. "Oh, Mother, don't do that," he said, putting his hand over hers that held his face. "Please. Where did she go?"

"She was here for nearly two hours after you fell asleep but then had to leave. She didn't like leaving without telling you, but she didn't want to wake you, and I wanted you to sleep," she said, trying not to make a disgusted face as she spoke curtly about her son's girlfriend.

Draco felt a little embarrassed for having fallen asleep with Ginny there, but they had curled up together and she had been so warm and comfy, and he had been so achy and tired. He had rested his cheek on her soft breasts and closed his eyes in his contentment and not realized he had drifted to sleep until he had woken hours later.

"Please don't be angry, Mother," he said, tilting his head towards her hand a little while holding it there with his own. "I was going to tell you about Ginny, I swear," he said, not about to tell his mother that Ginny had lied to her about being his girlfriend and then asked him out. She did not need any more reason to hate her, and she would have been affronted by the idea that a woman had asked him out. She would have ranted on about how improper that was, and what a hussy, a tramp, a tart, Ginny must have been. The fact that Ginny was still dating another man was something he would keep quiet as well, lest he wanted his mother to go to Azkaban for killing her.

"When were you going to tell me? When there was another grandbaby on the way?" she snapped.

"Oh, Mother, that is not fair, or nice," he said, pouting a little and dropping his hand away.

"I'm sorry, Angel, I didn't mean to hurt you and bring that up in such a way, but she is a Weasley! Of all women…I'm glad you are finally dating, I think that it is important for you not to shut yourself off from the rest of the world like you have been, but honestly, her? Why her?" she asked.

"She was there for me during those final days of the war, when everything fell apart for me," he said and his mother knew what he was talking about, her heart aching just a bit at the memory. "Ginny and I spent a night together-"

"Draco!" his mother gasped.

"I did not mean to imply that I slept with her, well, I did," he said and his mother turned around and then back around to face him again, looking breathlessly outraged. "I did not mean sleep with, as in sex, Mother. We spent the night before the final battle together, talking, I swear! Nothing inappropriate happened, I assure you. We shared a kiss I'll admit, and we slept huddled up to fight off the cold," he said, trying to ease his mother down from the verge of the nosebleed she was about to give herself.

"Draco, honestly, you had me worried there for a moment," she said, her hand over her heart.

"You raised me better than that," he said, trying to commend her and lighten her mood.

"Not well enough," she said, fanning herself. Draco's face fell.

"You love Michael and Claire," he said, pouting and letting the hurt he was feeling show on his face.

"Oh, I did not mean that. I'm sorry. This whole situation with the Weasley girl-"

"Ginny," Draco cut in,

"…has got me rather flustered," she said. She typically did not bring up the "circumstances" of how she became a grandmother with Draco, and tried not to use them against him in such a way, but Draco knew she was still terribly affronted by the idea and disappointed in him for what had happened. He knew she loved his children, he just could not help but feel she loved him just a little less because of his actions. He was still being punished for it, even if his mother did not realize, or acknowledge, it.

"Ginny doesn't have a problem with my past, she doesn't think I'm some evil, loathsome Death Eater, and she has known I'm a werewolf from all the way back then. She is fine with that," he assured.

"And what does she think of your babies?" she asked and Draco flushed. "I had a feeling you haven't told her," she said.

"I'm working up to that," he said.

"You better make it soon, Michael will be off, back to Hogwarts, come January first."

"I know," he said, biting his bottom lip.

"What would you like me to make you to eat?" she said, pushing food on him again.

"I'm not really hungry…"

"You must be," she said but was then interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Who could that be?" he asked.

"It's too early for the children to be returned," she said, frowning at the wall clock.

Draco timidly stepped backwards, back into his bedroom to peek around the corner. Visitors for him tended to be bad news. He was having a relatively good day, surprisingly better than he expected thanks to Ginny, he did not want that ruined by some Ministry Official showing up to hassle him.

Narcissa strode over to the door and answered it, blocking whoever was there from Draco's view and theirs of him at the same time.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy. Is Draco home?" she asked and Draco froze. A woman? A woman that wasn't Ginny? Who was at his door?

His mother's prolonged silence was enough to really get him wondering.

"This is totally inappropriate of you, how dare you," his mother finally said, going off and Draco sighing. He would have to defuse the situation.

He crept out from his room and across the living room to stand behind his mother, only just a touch taller than her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and whispered into her mind to calm down. He then looked over her shoulder to see Hermione Granger standing on the front steps, looking rather cool headed despite the harassment his mother had just started dishing out.

"Granger?" has asked, surprised. Did everyone now know where he lived?

"Hello, Draco," she said, trying to be civil and friendly.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned, not feeling quite the same warmth himself as she was presenting and letting it be heard in his voice.

"I'm Ginny's best friend and I wanted to talk to you about, well, some things," she said, not wanting to say much in front of Mrs. Malfoy.

Draco swallowed hard, not wanting too much to be said in front of his mother either.

"Right, I suppose you would," he said, holding onto his mother's shoulder with his one hand as he stepped back and urged her to follow. "Come in," he said, really wishing he could just slam the door on the Mudblood's face.

"Thank you," she said, knowing that she was not really welcome but not about to show any discomfort. She had learned long ago that nothing annoyed the people that hated her more than her being nice in return.

"Um, why don't we talk in the bedroom, for a little bit of privacy," he suggested, turning to his mother. "I'll only be a few moments," he said, kissing her cheek to ease her down further. She looked ready to claw Hermione's eyes out, and though he really wouldn't have minded it, he really did not think the poor carpet needed any more stains any more than their permanent records did.

Draco glanced over at Hermione to follow him and he stalked off to his bedroom, trying not to lean on his cane too heavily with Granger watching him. Narcissa caught Hermione's upper right arm and held her there in a tight grasp for a moment.

"Listen to me, Mud-uh-Granger. I don't like you, and you know damn well why," she said, actually cursing, showing how angry she really was. "You have expressed before your desire to `make things right,'" she said and Hermione just looked at her. "A start would be going in that room and convincing my son to eat something," she said. Hermione blinked at her, and the odd request, and was tempted to ask if she were being serious, but the tightness to which Narcissa was holding onto her was indication enough that she was not.

"Alright," she said, nodding.

Narcissa released her and stepped backwards just as Draco peeked out to see what was taking Hermione so long. Hermione followed Draco into his bedroom and closed the door behind her.

"Thank you for seeing me," she said.

"Oh, it's my pleasure," he said sarcastically.

"Okay, if there is going to be this sort of hostility between us, I think we have other things to talk about before we get to you and Ginny," she said, pointing to him and then herself.

"You have five minutes, Granger, and not a moment longer," he said, holding up his left hand with his fingers spread to show five. "Say what you came here to say," he finished, then folding his arms up to his chest and leaning against his dresser. He tried to make it seem relaxed and confident, but in reality it was because he was sure he would fall over otherwise and he did not want to sit because that would call for him offering Granger a seat, and he didn't want the Mudblood on his bed.

Hermione took a deep breath but complied. Her relationship with Draco was not what ultimately mattered so she pressed on.

"Ginny confessed to me yesterday that she had this crazy desire to start seeing you," she began.

"I know, she was by already, around noon, and we talked."

"Yes, well, I know that. I wouldn't have come if I had thought she hadn't already talked to you," she said. "You agreed, agreed to what she proposed," she said, not making it a question but him answering anyways.

"Yes, I did."

"You understand that this is mental? She is with another man," she said, hoping she could have come there and talked some sense into Draco at the very least. She wasn't about to try and break this up for Ginny, that was not something best friends did, but to get Ginny and Draco both to think clearly and to come the their sense on their own was her goal.

"I'm aware of that, we discussed it already, and I work with Reamann."

"How could you do this to him if you work with him?" she asked.

"I'm doing nothing. If you have some moral indignation about all this, talk to Ginny," he said smoothly.

"But Reamann is your friend."

"He sure as hell is not," Draco said resentfully. "I may work with the chap, but we are in no way mates."

"But-"

"Look, Granger, talk to Ginny about your troubles over this. If you fear that I won't treat her right, do not worry there, my mother and father raised me to be a gentleman towards women."

"Really," she said, not having to say "what about me?"

"Mudbloods don't count," he sneered.

"You are such an arsehole," she spat.

"Takes one to know one," he quipped.

"What are you, ten?" she retorted.

"And yet still so much better in Arithmancy."

"Yeah? Well, you're short."

"Slag," he pouted.

"I didn't come here to trade insults," she said.

"No, you came here to satisfy or quash that persistent nagging in the back of your head that keeps telling you that I'm evil and can't be trusted and that I will hurt Ginny in some elaborate plot to somehow punish you for ruining my life. I must say, that is terribly narcissistic of you to think such a thing. I would expect such a `the world revolves around me' attitude from Potter, the boy-who-lived-to-be-self-righteous, but not from you, Mudblood," he said, calling her "Mudblood" again, as he had several times already, trying to upset her.

"It's rude to read another's thoughts without asking, Malfoy," she flushed.

"It's rude to visit unannounced," he quipped.

"I don't want Ginny to get hurt, but honestly, that will be what happens if anyone were to find out you two were seeing each other."

"Thus why she is still dating Reamann. He is our cover," he said.

"Don't be thinking you will be her primary relationship and that Reamann is just a front," she said and Draco glared. "She is dating him, she is seeing you on the side. You are her fling," she said. Draco buried his hurt at Hermione's blunt words with anger.

"Since you are no part of this relationship, I do not think you have any say on what happens in it."

"Don't tell me you are seriously trying to make Ginny a real girlfriend, Malfoy," she said. Draco looked at her, looked at her face, and then looked way with a scoff and an air of indignity.

"Of course not," he said, pompous as he ever was back at Hogwarts. Hermione couldn't see through it. "This is just a fling, but one too nice to pass up," he said, still hurting from the idea that was what it was to Ginny. What was she getting at then when she talked about making a connection all those years ago? Darn he felt a little foolish.

"Well, so long as you understand that," she said, sighing. Ginny was a grown woman and could do as she pleased, but there were far better guys to have flings with than Draco Malfoy, men with far less emotional baggage.

"You may leave now," he said, making a shooing motion with his hands at her.

"Your mother wanted me to tell you to eat something," she said and Draco froze for a second and then looked angry.

"Get out, Granger," he warned.

"She is apparently worried, and honestly, if you were any thinner you wouldn't exist," she said, able to see through the obscuring bagging pants and jumper. It did not give him bulk; it actually made him seem smaller with all that material hanging off of him.

"I said get out. Get out, get out, get out," he said, shooing the whole time.

Hermione opened the door and allowed Draco to shoo her all the way to the front door.

"Malfoy," she said, turning to face him while on the front steps, him standing in the door way.

"I would say this was a pleasure, but that would be a lie," he said, interrupting her before slamming the door in her face. Hermione stood there for a second, balling her hands up into fists. She wanted to call him a prat, among other things, but she really could not blame him for his bitterness. Well, she understood his bitterness at least, not really wanting to excuse his rudeness for the rest of their lives.

There would come a point when he really had to deal with things and attempt to get over it, just so as to move on with his life.

Draco turned away from the door to see his mother standing in the doorway to the kitchen area on his left, looking hopeful, and sighed.

"Mum, would you make me a peanut butter sandwich…please?" he asked, putting on his pouting, helpless, "I need my mummy to take care of me," voice that she just loved to cater to.

"Of course I will," she said, smiling and turning into the kitchen to get right on that.

Draco looked after her and sighed.

He hated that he worried her so much.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Authoer's Note:

Draco's conflicted nature is really brought forefront in the flashback.

I mentioned Snape in this chapter. No, I haven't forgotten about him.

-->