Chapter 17

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Author's note: These are just a few snippets that happen after the previous chapter.

"What are the twelve uses of dragon's blood?" Hermione asked out loud.

Silence.

"Draco?" Hermione stared at the blonde head. He looked to be deep in thought and he was staring at her. They were sitting at the back of the library, trying to cope with the massive amount of their workloads.

"Malfoy." Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. He jumped.
"Concentrate, Malfoy." Hermione chided. "Now what are the twelve uses of Dragon's blood?"

"Do we have to do this?" he huffed, folding his arms. "I mean, what's the point? We both know we're gonna get 'O's in N.E.W.T.s. "

Hermione shut the dusty volume she was holding. "I remember telling you clearly not to be overconfident."

"And I clearly remember trying to tell you not to overthink too much."

Hermione muttered something like "Bloody Ferret."

"What's that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, and pulled her essay towards herself. It was a particularly long one for McGonagall, and she still had a foot more to write on it.
A weird tickling feeling enveloped her. She jerked her legs away as she felt his toes on her calves under the table. She didn't look up from her essay. His leg inched forward, and made it's way higher, almost to her mid thigh.

"What exactly are you planning?" She asked him in annoyance. "You aren't letting me concentrate!"

"Good then." he said smugly. "I can be top in class for once. I'm tired of being second best."

"And here I thought you were begging me for another round."

"Begging?" he scoffed. "Malfoys never beg."

"Something tells me you aren't a normal Malfoy." she said softly.

His smile disappeared; his eyes had that cold, empty look again. "I didn't want to be a...Malfoy."

This surprised Hermione. "Really?"

He nodded. "I enjoyed the money and the power and the control...but," he smiled wryly. "sometimes it was really tiring to put up the facade. It was always lonely being Draco Malfoy."

"You should have talked to me or something!" Hermione said fiercely, leaning forward.

Draco laughed humorlessly. "About what? And did you really think you'd simply talk to me and forgive me for everything I said and did? You hated me."

"So did you." Hermione accused.

Draco shook his head. "I was only jealous of Potter and Weasley because I'd always have to see you three laughing and talking and just simply being happy. Me? It wasn't that simple. I wanted to laugh and be happy too, I didn't want to act as though I enjoyed everything I did. I didn't want to say the things I said...there's so much I'd have taken back if I ever got the chance, so much I'd like to amend. But that's impossible."

"But Crabbe-Goyle-"

Draco shot her a look. "I think you'd understand by now I needed someone who had the same intellect as me, and not that of a snail."

"So you-you had...no one?" she whispered.

Draco sat for a moment.

Hermione had never him seen like this. This lonely Draco Malfoy. Yes, he'd had trouble coping after the war but she'd thought that it was because of the war itself. She had seen him with Crabbe and Goyle and she'd assumed that they were his friends even if they were stupid. She'd thought they were easier for him to control. Then again, hadn't she too been in his place? Hadn't she too been alone and friendless for the first few months of their first year, before she became friends with Harry and Ron? They had had the same problem, only they found two different ways to cope. Draco, Hermione thought sadly, had to stand alone for all these years, trying to hide his pain by his indifferent mask. He chose to put on the face what everyone expected of him, and hung out with the likes of Crabbe and Goyle...

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