"That is what it's about," said Draco, sitting down on his bed. He'd have waved her onto Harry's, but he thought he'd get more from the conversation if she was close enough that he could see her expressions up close, so he patted the spot next to him.
Hermione's lips curled upward in sort of a rueful expression as she planted her hands on her hips. "Ron would have a fit. And before you say he's not in here, let me just tell you, I wouldn't put it past him to go outside so he can watch us through the window."
As if a mere window could be any sort of real problem! Shrugging, Draco waved his wand at the window as he murmured an incantation to obscure the glass.
"Oh, that's a nice spell," said Hermione, clearly not meaning it. "Very . . . Slytherin."
"If you aren't going to sit down, I'll stand too," warned Draco, patting the spot beside him, again.
Hermione glanced at his hand, but then backed away to sit down on Harry's bed, after all. "I don't think so," she said, crossing her legs a bit primly. Or nervously, perhaps.
It suddenly struck Draco that he'd never been completely alone with Hermione Granger before. And he had insulted and threatened her rather frequently in the past, so it stood to reason that she might be a little bit uncertain of his true intentions.
Not that she was going to admit to being wary, of course. Her eyes were narrowing, her voice talking on that challenging lilt he'd heard her use to Harry so many times. "After all, you wouldn't like this . . . Rhiannon, did you say, sitting with another boy on his bed, would you?"
Hmm, she did have a point there, which was rather annoying. Hermione was definitely too clever by half. But that was all right, as long as he could get that fine mind of hers working on his problem.
Capitulating, Draco summoned a chair close to Harry's bed. "Oh, I wouldn't like that at all," he said, in a voice that suggested hexes and worse. "You're right."
"Now that's something I never thought I'd hear you say."
One part of Draco knew he might deserve that, but a bigger part of him was offended. Particularly since she said it like he was still the boy he'd been years ago, the one who'd wanted Harry Potter dead. Hadn't she realised yet that he wasn't that person any longer? He'd proved it, hadn't he? "You've forgotten I called you clever, apparently."
"You've called me a lot of things over the years."
Oh, sweet Merlin. Draco got it, then. She wanted an apology. He almost rolled his eyes, because the one thing Hermione had never seemed to him was a typical girl, but here she was, waiting for an apology, just the same as Rhiannon had wanted. Well, Granger could wait all day, if that was her problem. After all, when Draco had said he was sorry to Rhiannon, it hadn't made a whit of difference. Why should he abase himself again?
He wouldn't, not when she'd probably just scoff at it. Far better to approach the matter with a Slytherin retort. "Yes, well I actually must think you clever, seeing as I asked you here so you could give me some advice."
"So you're implying that you didn't actually think those other things, are you?"
"I don't know, do I?" asked Draco, raising his voice. Why not? She had him by the teeth, by then. "Seeing as I love a Muggle girl?"
Hermione abruptly glanced away and worried her lower lip with her teeth. Draco had the feeling that she was thinking, but it looked like an awfully strange way to do it. When she finally spoke, her words came slowly. Which wasn't like her at all, but then again, Draco would bet more than a hundred Galleons that she'd never had to face a conversation like this one, before. "You really love a Muggle, Draco? Truly? That's the reason why you owled?"
Draco nodded, leaning forward and looking her straight in the eye.
Hermione sighed and leaned back on her palms. "All right, I suppose I can swallow that, though it's very difficult." Her voice took on a sardonic note. "I don't think you have any idea how difficult."
Oh, she was finding this difficult, was she?
"But Harry seemed to think it was true," Hermione blithely continued, clearly still thinking her way through the matter. "You wouldn't play a prank like this on Harry, would you? Who thinks of you as a brother?"
Oh, wonderful. If she believed him at all, it would be because of Harry.
"He is my brother," retorted Draco, sitting back in his chair as he gave a long sigh. "Let's not have any of this thinks of you as rubbish.And no, I wouldn't play a prank like this. Why would I want to?"
"I can't think of a single reason."
Draco fought off an urge to say something sarcastic.
"After all, you're only going to make your own life harder with a story like this--"
"If you want to talk hard, what do you think it's been like for me, finding out I was dating a Muggle?"
Hermione had been swinging her legs a bit--they were uncrossed by then--but at that, she went still. "What do you mean, finding out?"
Draco tugged on his collar a little, wishing he could cast a cooling spell. But that would give too much away. As it was, he could tell he must be going red in the face. And that looked worse on him than it did on Weasley, he knew.
"Well . . . I, er . . ."
"Yes?"
Closing his eyes, Draco almost started wishing himself somewhere else. It was humiliating enough that Harry and Severus knew how big an imbecile he'd been; for Hermione Granger to find out as well was galling in the extreme. But there was no way around it. "I thought she was a witch at first, all right?"
Hermione giggled. "Really?"
Draco opened one eye and regarded her balefully. "I'm not telling you these things so you can laugh."
Hermione grin faltered. "Right, of course. But what would make you think that a Muggle was a witch?"
"She was wonderful, that's what!"
"You can't be a wonderful person without magic?"
Draco bared his teeth, even though all that sort of thing was bad manners. "Well, obviously she can be, but I didn't know that, not then. She was so perfect that I assumed she simply had to be a witch. A pureblooded witch, even, if you must know."
"And there I always thought you were clever too, in your own way."
"Come again?"
Hermione shifted so she could lean forward. "Look, Draco. You used to be a thoroughly foul person as far as I'm concerned, but over the last few months you did make it clear that Harry's important to you, now, whatever was true before. I don't expect you to admit it, but my guess would be that you think he's wonderful."
"Your point being?"
"Harry had a Muggleborn mother. You can't possibly still believe that only purebloods can be wonderful."
Everything she said was true, of course, but Draco didn't like where it was leading. Not one bit. Thankfully, he had an easy way out. "Oh, please. He's Harry Potter, as you well know. If anything is certain, it's that the usual rules don't apply. Not to him."
"Then what's your excuse when it comes to Ron?" she asked crisply, the moment he stopped speaking. "He's pureblooded, but I'd bet my last book that you don't find him wonderful."
Draco clenched his fists. They were supposed to be talking about how he could get Rhiannon back, not going on about what Draco did or didn't think! Annoyed, he raised an eyebrow in challenge and came back at her with an analogy he knew she wouldn't appreciate. "All house-elves are enslaved creatures, but it doesn't follow that all enslaved creatures must therefore be elves, Granger. There are plenty of other kinds."
Hermione glared at him. "Do you want my help, or not?"
"With Rhiannon, not with whether I find my own brother so sodding wonderful!"
The angry expression in her eyes softened. "Defensive about it, aren't we?"