Yearning Beyond Reach

The Reliable Lies I

Draco heard a chuckle from behind the Professor's door, but not a single sound from her.

He sat in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, parchment and quill ready, waiting for Umbridge to finish her torment on her latest victim. He grabbed his book from the leather bag he'd placed on the empty chair beside him, but paused as he heard the faint clink of glass, like something breaking. Curiously, he kept staring at the closed, hideous pink door. The giggle echoed again, but still, there was no sound of complaint or even a wince from Hermione.

Earlier, despite intentionally skipping what he thought was a ridiculous class, he had heard stories—Granger's story. She was always the talk of the school, and this time she had done something unusual even for her. Her bravery was just plain stupid in this situation. It wasn't wise to be rebellious when the world was uncertain, when everything was tipping over and everyone was choosing sides. Instead of quietly hiding away, Granger, along with her stupid Potter and Weasley, chose to speak louder, raising voices, drawing lines between students. She had openly criticized Umbridge's teaching methods during a lesson, questioning her refusal to teach practical defense spells. As if that wasn't on everyone's mind, but of course, she had to be brave. She had to do what was right, proper, and just. No wonder she ended up in that room, getting detention and writing with the Blood Quill.

Draco's father knew a lot of people at the Ministry, and Draco had heard enough about Umbridge to know it was smarter to be on her side. Survival was what mattered, but Granger, for all her intelligence, could be so foolish.

Granger, Granger, Draco thought, as he dipped his quill in ink and began his essay. So stubborn.

He could always sense a mudblood from a mile away. He remembered Granger walking past him on the train to Hogwarts in their first year, all cheery, excited, trying to talk to everyone, though not very good at it. Yet she managed to find her place quickly. Draco often saw her darting around, always reaching for the library, sticking close to Potter and Weasley, and showing how competitive she could be when it came to studying. She was smart, he could admit that, even smarter than him sometimes, despite the fact that he had learned magic his entire life. His mother was a Black, his father a Malfoy; he'd been taught spells since he was a child. And still, this muggle-born girl, so energetic it was almost creepy, was reaching his level, sometimes even surpassing it. It annoyed him—the way she answered questions like she knew it all, the way she ran after those two who often tried to ditch her, the way she was kind to everyone, even Slytherins, despite the obvious rivalry. That kindness was annoying, as was her happy smile, that bright light in her eyes.

Draco mostly focused on beating Harry Potter. Potter wasn't the greatest wizard just because he'd survived the Dark Lord as a baby. Draco wanted to be great, too—either great or nothing at all. But then there was Granger, sneaking in from the shadows, upending the game he enjoyed, making it a shame for someone like him to be outdone by a muggle-born whose rigid moral code would likely get her killed.

"Are you having those?" a voice had asked him once in the crowded Great Hall, lifting a plate filled with grießpudding and raspberry sauce in front of him. "If not, I'm going to have it. We don't have this on Gryffindor's table, ah—and I love it."

She talked a lot, explaining things using too many words.

Draco had simply nodded, watching her big, wavy hair bounce as she walked back to her table, smiling as she shared the pudding with other Gryffindors.

How—how she was always so... present. Even when things were falling apart, she had this way of making everything seem normal.

Every day, waking up, getting ready, eating in the hall, going to class—he felt nervous, scared. He tried to act unfazed, but inside, he was panicking. He pushed himself harder, studying obsessively.. He felt a strange kind of competition with her, glancing over at her in the study hall to see if she would finish her homework before him, annoyed by how easy it seemed for her.