The Gloriana Set

Apertus Sum

Hermione was near tears herself as she walked down to the fourth-floor corridor and stopped at the bit of wall. I need Draco.

The wizard stood in the center of the Room, watching the walls' dancing runes. He turned and saw her face, and opened his arms. She rushed to him and put her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Draco said into her hair. "I shouldn't have pulled my wand earlier."

"I'm sorry I tried to Petrify you. Again."

"You're so predictable. Bluebell would be quite disappointed."

He's right. Hermione didn't know how long they stood there, wrapped around each other. It was like Draco had cast his own containment spell, and she didn't want to be freed.

"I can't stay long," she said. "Ginny's devastated."

She felt Draco nod. "Blaise returned after dinner. He won't speak to anyone."

Hermione looked up at him. "This thing with Blaise was supposed to be a fling—Ginny was so angry at Harry when she returned to Hogwarts ..."

"Yes, just a torrid affair," Draco said with a slight smile. "That was all Blaise wanted too, at first. But you Gryffindors, we just can't stay away ..." She felt soft lips on her ear.

"Are you saying he truly cares for her?" she asked.

Instead of answering, Draco led her over to one of the Room's big cushions and settled her with him on his lap, his back against a wall. His hand ran softly over her knee. Hermione lay against his chest, listening to his heart. A line of runes traced a winding trail on the wall before her, a runic riddle: What is the bark of rivers and roof of the wave and destruction of the doomed ...

"Blaise had plans for Ginevra, I know that," Draco finally admitted.

"Ah, he had plans," Hermione grumped. "High praise from a Slytherin."

"The highest, actually," he said serenely. "We rarely incorporate others into our plans."

"Do you have plans for me?" she couldn't resist asking.

Draco's hand on her knee stilled, then resumed its circles. "Yes," he said. "But I prefer to keep them to myself for now."

Hermione nodded, understanding. Their future seemed impossibly murky, fraught with traps and blood messages. Treacherous ground to build any plans on. Her own half-formed plans seemed thin and spindly and easily crushed.

She sighed. "You warned me about Blaise. You said he wouldn't open his heart. And you were right."

"It's his upbringing. His mother trained him to deny all feelings," Draco said.

"And yours didn't?"

"Quite the opposite." His voice was cool. "My parents certainly encouraged me to feel: feel hatred of other creatures and Muggles; feel superiority to all other wizards; feel contempt toward those who pretended to care about others, for they were surely lying. And I was taught to express those feelings early and often, constantly proving myself a true Malfoy."

Draco laughed shortly. "I could never prove myself worthy. For a family who so worshiped blood, you'd think blood alone would have been enough."

Hermione didn't know what to say, so she just pressed against him until his rigid muscles relaxed. Draco was so passionate, and his parents had twisted that passion, but at least he could express it. She tried to think of Blaise storming off in a huff, or glaring at other men, or scolding Ginny for meddling, or risking himself to win her trust. Inconceivable. But then, she would have considered Draco's behavior over the last months inconceivable if she hadn't witnessed it herself, so what did she know?