Diamonds

10. Hide The Truth

The train ride was quiet, with no pointless war being fought between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Hermione's decision to hold what she knew over Harry and Ron had ensured a period of peace, especially as neither of the other Gryffindors were on the train. Draco had found their compartment, shooing some Hufflepuffs away. "We need the seats. Go away."

Hermione and Draco were sitting each other, poring over a chapter in Hermione's gilded copy of Magical Theory, gifted to her by him. They had started an argument about Anne Zabini's theory regarding which wand wood provided the most power to its' wielder.

"It depends upon the wielder, not the wood, not entirely. Zabini clearly states that their value depends upon how well the wood complements the wielder." Hermione poked the page, reading it out. "Right here! Though official opinion varies, expert wandmakers Garrick Ollivander and Mykew Gregorovitch agree that each separate wand wood has certain properties which are particularly apt for a wielder with a particular personality, or enduring a certain circumstance."

"Yeah, maybe," Draco allowed, "but it also says here that wands can be won from other people, and how could the thief be guaranteed to have the right personality or circumstance or whatever to match the wood? A wand will always perform most effectively for the wizard that owns it, however, it will function perfectly adequately for one who has successfully disarmed the previous wielder. The original properties will continue to apply, including an affinity for charms as afforded by the wood of a Rowan tree."

"You must have read that wrong, there's no way that she would say that. It contradicts what she said before far too much."

Blaise groaned, cutting them off. He was sitting with his legs sprawled across the seat beside him, just leaving room for Theo, who was writing something. "Can you two just stop it? It's the holidays, we're meant to be on a break."

"We have an essay due on this first week back, Blaise, don't you care at all about passing?"

"I don't think I'm going to fail if I leave it until the week before it's due."

"How do you people sleep at night?" Hermione genuinely seemed to not understand. "Honestly, it's like you're satisfied with just gliding through life without purpose."

"He has a purpose," Theo murmured, not pausing in his writing. "It's irritating you, Granger."

"Ha, ha, very funny. I'm serious!"

"So am I."

"He really is," Draco assured her, shifting. His foot nudged Neville, who was sitting on the floor between them. He couldn't take the vacant seat because Draco had stacked books on it. The Gryffindor glared at his foot, as though that would make it stop.

"How did that bet go?" Neville asked.

"Which one?"

"There's more than one?"

Hermione frowned. It hadn't occurred to her that Draco was tempting her to gamble, something her grandma Jean had always said was a sin that would get you sent somewhere awful. "Yes. There was the Sorting Ceremony, then the flying lesson, then the library. Hey, the flying lesson-"

"I won," Draco assured Neville.

"I won the flying lesson bet! Harry never threatened you."

"No, just you."

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he said, too quickly for her to believe him for even an instant. "And I stopped getting the letters. I wrote to mother and they stopped, just like I asked. I kept up my end. Why do you think I've actually been asking what you're reading?"