But for all that, he'd never really wanted her there at Hogwarts. Since she was there anyway, he'd been willing to have her do something useful, that was all.
But now, Draco was thinking something rather different. Or, not thinking it, exactly. Considering it, perhaps.
Maybe it was a good thing, after all, that Hogwarts admitted Muggleborns.
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As soon as they were home, Draco sat down at the square table near the kitchen, Severus' quills and a pile of blank parchments near to hand.
His father walked past, going to his room, but turned around at the doorway, his dark eyes a little bit hooded as if he were still considering what to say. Or how to phrase it, perhaps.
"You don't think you should owl her in the morning, as we agreed?"
Draco leaned back in his chair. "You agreed. I didn't." Then another thought struck him and he sighed. "Oh, for Merlin's sake. This might not go out until morning in any case. I can't be sure, can I, unless I go to Hogwarts to put the letter in an owl's beak myself."
Severus didn't reply. He just kept looking at Draco with those dark, unfathomable eyes.
Draco felt himself growing nervous, which didn't happen very often, all things considered. "Ah . . . I don't suppose you'd let me pop over to Hogwarts, just for an instant--"
"At this time of night?"
"Yeah, I might wake up some elves," muttered Draco, before waving a hand. "I know, I know. The summer wards are up. I'll disturb a lot more than elves. Never mind. I'll just pop my post in the box and hope for the best."
Harry had gone straight to their room when they'd got in. Now he came out again, a pair of rumpled pyjamas draped over an arm. "You might want to get a good night's sleep before you try writing Hermione."
Draco could almost see the sense in that, since he felt too tired to argue. But no, this couldn't wait. "Good night," he only said, waving a hand to indicate Severus and Harry both.
Severus took the hint and murmured his own good-night before he went into his bedroom and closed the door with a quiet click.
Harry, of course, missed the message entirely. "Really," he said, sounding so earnest that it was annoying, "if you write your letter in the morning you'll--"
"Miss any chance of seeing Granger before the pool opens," interrupted Draco coolly. Perhaps too coolly, since part of him did know that his brother was only trying to help. "Harry . . . I need to do this. Go to bed." Please, Draco almost added, but before it came to that, Harry finally gave in.
"All right. Good night, then."
Draco waited until Harry also shut his door, then pulled a stack of parchment towards him. But it wasn't a blank stack, as he'd thought. Merlin, he really was tired, wasn't he?
The top parchment was written on, in Severus' hand, and looked to be a rough draft of some correspondence. But there wasn't any salutation or closing, so Draco wasn't sure whom Severus had been writing to.
Your proposed changes are quite frankly absurd, the first paragraph began. Have you consulted with Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? As I am sure you are aware, decisions that will impact the school should be referred first of all to him. I would also like to know if you have spoken with the appropriate department heads at Magical Law Enforcement. I can't imagine that the Auror Corps would really prefer new apprentices to begin their training so appallingly unprepared.
This isn't merely a matter of technical skill. Your
The letter stopped there.
Draco pushed the parchment to the side, a little bemused. What was the letter about? Some change afoot in the Auror Apprentice programme, obviously. Draco wished he knew what change.
And why had this draft been left about? The simple explanation was that Severus hadn't finished the letter, and was still considering what to write. What tone to take, perhaps. But nothing was ever that simple with Severus. Plots inside plots. Schemes inside schemes. He'd meant for Draco to see the letter, obviously. But to what end?
Well, Draco wouldn't be able to fathom that out tonight. He had other brooms to fly.
Pulling a blank sheet of parchment towards him, he uncorked the ink pot and dipped a quill. Such a shame he didn't have one of his lovely self-inking quills handy, or better yet, one that would do his writing for him. They were in the bedroom with Harry, and if Draco tried to summon one, Harry would probably pad out in bare feet and ask how things were going. Or more likely, urge him to give it up for tonight.
Draco blinked, as it had suddenly occurred to him that he was procrastinating. Well, it's not like he'd ever written this sort of letter before, was it? He'd written to the half-bloods and Muggleborns in Slytherin, but not really to ask them for help. More to convince them that it was in their best interests to join the winning side of the war. His side, Harry's side. He'd been trying to help them, actually. Help them see that Slytherin didn't have to stand with the Dark Lord, that in fact, standing with him could only lead to slavery or death.
This letter was going to be different. This time, he had to ask for help. Ask Granger, even. Draco didn't know how to start it, so it was little wonder he was still procrastinating.
Well, nothing for it but to write the salutation, right?
Dear Granger . . .
No, no, that set the wrong tone entirely, didn't it? Draco tried to spell the ink off, but it still left a smudge, so he swept that parchment onto the floor and snatched a fresh one from the stack.
Dear Hermione . . .
Not much better. It sounded insincere. Like he was currying favour. Which he was, of course, but he hardly wanted it to look that way to Granger. He had a hard enough time calling her Hermione that she'd smell a rat straight away if he started the letter calling her that. And really, "Dear" didn't quite fit, either.
Draco tossed that parchment to the floor too, and sighing, tried a third time. Third time's a charm, he remembered Harry saying. Draco hoped so, anyway. Before he started writing this time, he thought for a while about wording. And tone. And all the polite pleasantries that this kind of correspondence should include. It wasn't the done thing, after all, to get right to the point when you had a favour to ask. Particularly when you were asking it of someone you'd been less than civil to, in the past.
Hmm . . . considering all he had said in the past, perhaps it wouldn't come amiss to throw in a few mentions of Mugglish things, just as a way to introduce Hermione to the idea that Draco's views might not be quite so adamant as before. They hadn't changed that much, since Rhiannon was really much more like a witch than a Muggle, whatever her bloodlines, but Draco wouldn't mention that. The goal here was to get Granger to talk with him, after all.