Venom and Velvet

Death Eater

8. Death Eater

Draco gathered his things from his desk in the Transfiguration classroom. When he walked by, the new professor sucked in her breath and her eyes widened. He tried not to notice. He was used to these reactions by now, the whole wizarding world knew what he'd done and whose side he'd been on.

He caught sight of Granger disappearing through the door and followed after her. It was nice, he thought, that they had so many classes together. This way, if he missed something, she'd likely have notes he could borrow. He wasn't sure she'd let him, but it would be worth a shot if he ended up needing it. Besides, Longbottom didn't think he could do better, so now Draco had to.

He made his way through the corridor, following the bouncing brown frizz Granger called "hair." Someone bumped into him, knocking his books and parchment out of his hands.

"Sorry," he muttered without looking up to see who he had run into.

"You should be, Ferret," a voice snarled at him. Draco looked up to see a Gryffindor boy that couldn't be more than fifteen. "Why are you even here?"

Draco didn't answer. He had been expecting this. He stood and brushed the dirt off his robes from where he had knelt to pick up his things. Standing, he towered over the boy. He kept his face expressionless as he took him in for a solid minute. Not wanting to start anything, Draco moved to step around him wordlessly.

"Aren't you gonna answer me?" The boy reached his arm out and caught Draco's. He was definitely in the right house.

"Why should I?" Draco said, keeping his voice level, though he was starting to get irritated.

"We both know you don't belong here, Death Eater. You should just leave."

Draco looked at him, trying to remind himself to stay calm but failing.

"Look, kid. I'm just trying to live my life. Let go of me now before I have to hex you."

"Oh, threatening people now, are we, Ferret? I might have to go speak to a professor about you."

Calm down. You are not going to get into a fight with a kid on the first day of class.

"C'mon, Ferret. Hex me. I'd love to see you get expelled."

He's right, you'd be expelled for sure. Calm down.

Draco pulled his arm out of the boy's grasp and walked down the now empty hall. Glancing at one of the clocks on the wall, he saw he was late to History of Magic.

"Shit," he muttered.

If he was lucky, he would be able to sneak in without Binns noticing, it had been known to happen.

He was not lucky. After being deducted five points, he slid into the closest empty seat, which happened to be next to Granger. She turned and looked at him incredulously.

"How did you manage to be late? We were in the same class," she hissed at him.

Draco looked at her. Her brown eyes were full of judgement, her eyebrows knit. Her bushy hair was positively crazy. What did it matter to her whether he were late to class? He shook his head, still looking at her.

"Why do you care?" He asked.

She opened her mouth as if to retort, but seemed to decide it wasn't worth it and turned back to her note-taking. Draco followed suit, pulling out parchment and his quill and trying to listen to Binns' droning voice.

Halfway through the lecture Hermione set her quill down sharply and turned to him again.

"I care because I know you didn't come back to Hogwarts for an extra year of school just to blow off class."

Draco was caught off guard in the middle of writing a sentence about La Forteresse de la Douleur, where two hundred wizards and witches died battling a family of giants in 1153.

"Not that it's any of your business, Granger, but I didn't do it willfully. Now shut up so I can listen," he snapped back at her. No way in hell was he going to tell Granger what had happened in the hall. She'd probably agree with the little bastard. But, even as he thought those words, he knew they weren't true.

"I just don't understand. You were right behind me."

"Why are you fixating on this?"

"Because, like I said, you're here for a reason! Please elaborate on 'not doing it willfully.' What is that even supposed to mean? You either come to class or you don't."

"Fine, Granger? You really wanna know?"

"Yes, I do."

"I got held up in the hallway by some little kid from your stupid house calling me a Death Eater and telling me to go home." Draco hadn't intended to tell her all that, but she'd gotten him so worked up he hadn't been able to help it. His knuckles were white from squeezing his fists so hard. He could feel his nails digging into his palms. Calm down.

Hermione's eyes softened like butter. Her expression changed from one of aggravation to one of pity.

"Draco-"

"Don't," he said, looking away.

Draco didn't look at her for the rest of class. At lunch, he sat silently at a table with a few Slytherins. In Ancient Runes, he answered a question correctly and earned back his five points. When he got to Potions before her, Draco took a table at the very back where Granger was least likely to sit. Of course, the witch couldn't mind her own business and when she got to class, she caught his eye and walked straight to the back, plopping down in the chair next to him and ignoring his glares.

"You don't need to look at me like that, Draco. I've been thinking," she said.

"What could you possibly have been thinking that would make you come to sit in the back of the class next to your enemy?" He retorted, glaring more fiercely.

She looked at him with those big chocolate puppy eyes, not backing down.

"That's the thing, Draco, you aren't my enemy anymore. The war is over."

"What do you kn-"

"Yesterday on the train you had fun with my friends and Milo. You and I were joking around at breakfast. You are a very different person than you were a year ago. I'm sure of it."

Slughorn had started talking, but they were not paying attention.

"No, I'm not, Granger."

"I can prove it. When this kid was bothering you, did you curse, jinx, or hex him?" She asked.

Draco didn't answer. He turned his eyes up to the front. He could say something he knew would change her mind. He could call her a mudblood. But, if she really wasn't his enemy, would it be worth it? It could be nice to have some people at this school who didn't hate him. And she was right, he had had fun on the train. Could it be like that all the time? Probably not.

They made Amortentia. Slughorn tried to get them all to say what they smelled, no one would. Of course, everyone already knew Granger's from when she'd shown off a few years earlier. What was it? Freshly mown grass, parchment, and spearmint? Something like that. Draco's was heavenly, of course he'd never admit to having been affected by the love potion. But it smelled like vanilla and apples.