Out of the Woods •• Sequel To Cabin Fever

S I X

Draco had a plan. A cunning, ambitious, fool proof plan. He was a Slytherin after all, through and through.

Now, this plan had to be executed perfectly. It was made up of a number of small steps, each as important as the next.

On Monday morning, Draco took extra care to make sure he looked impeccable. Not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle in his robes. He examined his appearance in the mirror with a sly smile on his lips. "Perfect." He whispered to himself.

"Draco, I have to piss!" Blaise called through the door. Draco sighed heavily, gave his reflection one last glance, and opened the door. "Finally." Blaise grumbled, slipping past Draco and closing the door behind him.

Draco collected his schoolbag and books and briskly left the dormitory. He breezed past Pansy, ignoring her sickeningly sweet "Good morning, Draco." He had no time to entertain her desperate attempts to seduce him. He threw open the portrait hole door and took a deep breath, puffing out his chest and squaring his shoulders. Nothing would get in his way today.

The Great Hall buzzed with student's chatter and the typical commotion caused by the morning post. For once, Draco didn't feel outright disrespected by so much noise this early in the morning, on a Monday no less. Today, he fed off of the cheerful energy. It was time for the First Step. He once again strategically sat at the Slytherin table, excitement and nerves coursing through his veins. It felt exhilarating. He pulled a quill and a piece of parchment from his bag, took a deep breath and scribbled a short note.

Wednesday night. Astronomy tower. Midnight.

He charmed the parchment to intricately fold itself into an origami dragon, and sent it soaring over the tables before coming to a stop in front of Harry. The Gryffindor plucked the dragon from the air and carefully unfolded it, his eyes going wide before narrowing and settling on Draco's face. He raised a brow and rolled his eyes, but folded the parchment and slipped it into his bag. Draco's heart swelled. Success.

Step Two was put into play during Advanced Arithmancy, a class he shared with Granger. He paused outside of the classroom and took a deep breath to steady himself. It was ridiculous of him to be nervous. It was only Granger, after all. He rubbed his nose, the memory of that day in third year causing him to stall even longer. The last few students brushed past him and settled into their seats. Class would start in a few short minutes. It was now or never.

Draco spotted her tell tale nest of bushy brown curls (which he could admit, grudgingly, had been tamed into something halfway pretty over the years). He wiped his hands on his robes, as they had become slightly clammy. Ugh. All for Granger. No, Draco corrected himself, all for Harry. He carefully wove his way through the desks until he was at the front of the classroom where she was seated. No surprise there. She didn't notice him, as her nose was buried in a textbook, until he lightly rapped his knuckles on her desk. Her head shot up and she dropped her book when they made eye contact. Confusion, nervousness and anger flashed across her face.

"Malfoy." She greeted coldly.

"Hi, Granger, Hermione, I mean." Her name sounded foreign in Draco's mouth, as if he was trying to speak a language he didn't fully understand. "Listen, I wanted to tell you something."

"Go on, then." Hermione pursed her lips and sighed, as though this whole exchange was a waste of her time.

"Right." Another deep breath. "Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been such a nasty git from the day we met. It was horrible of me to treat you the way I did, and I know I can never take it back, but I owe you an apology, at the very least." The words sort of spilled out, so fast his brain could hardly keep up. Draco's face was bright pink, he just knew it. This was all terribly embarrassing, but necessary. Hermione stared blankly at him for a moment, as though she didn't believe a word he'd said. Not that he blamed her for that. Then, suddenly, her eyes welled up with tears.

"Thank you, Draco. That means a lot." She said, her voice wavering yet firm. Draco gave her a small close lipped smile.

"I'm truly so sorry." He said once more, and he meant it. He nodded at her and hurried to his desk, just in time for the lesson's start. And he noticed something rather funny. His heart felt a whole lot lighter.

Draco anticipated Step Three to be very difficult, if not the most difficult of Steps.

Tuesday morning, Draco watched him like a hawk. Watched him as though he was the Golden Snitch in a make or break match.

He studied his walk, similar to a gorilla lumbering along. His eating habits, as ravenous as a hyena. The way he communicated, again, like a gorilla. By the time breakfast came to an end, Draco felt as though he knew him through and through. Now, to catch him alone- and survive. Salazar must have been looking out for Draco, when the ginger twat forgot his bag at the Gryffindor table and waved his friends along. It was now or never. Draco all but ran towards him.

"Weasley!" He called out, skidding to a stop a safe distance away. As expected, Ron Weasley turned an unflattering shade of red and began huffing and puffing like a bull getting ready to charge.

"What the bloody hell do you want, Malfoy?" Weasley spat. He held his bag protectively, as though he thought Draco would snatch it.

"I need to speak with you."

"Yeah, right. I'm not falling for that. Piss off, if you know what's good for you." Weasley shot him a glare and turned to leave the Great Hall. Draco began to panic. This Step was essential.

"Weasley, please!" Draco called out. "Just give me two minutes, please." He tried to ignore the bile that threatened to rise up. Oh, what his father would say if he knew Draco was begging a Weasley for anything. Weasley turned to face him again, his expression scrunched up as though he was holding back an arsenal of insults.

"Two minutes." Weasley eventually grumbled.

"Okay, great, thank you. I wanted to apologize. I should never have judged you because of your last name, or your family's money, any of those things. I was awful to you, and I'm sorry." Draco's skin felt hot and itchy and he was terribly uncomfortable. "And if I'm being honest, I was jealous of you." He added. Weasley opened and closed his mouth repeatedly. He looked a lot like a giant, ginger goldfish.

"You were jealous? Of me?" He spluttered.

"Yes. You were close to Harry, and I was about as far from him as possible." Draco said simply.

"That was your fault to begin with, if I remember correctly." Weasley snapped.

"It was my fault. I was an insufferable brat." Draco replied agreeably. Weasley was looking more and more flustered with every passing second.

"This doesn't change anything, Malfoy. I don't give a shit about your half ass attempt at an apology. I'm not stupid- I know this is all just a way to get back on Harry's good side." Weasley tipped his chin up and narrowed his eyes. "And I doubt it's going to work." He shook his head in a disappointed sort of way, and left. Draco sighed deeply. How dare Weasley accuse him of doing anything halfway? That was the most sincere apology he could muster. How rude. Granger had at least acknowledged that it was a big step in the right direction. Oh, well, it was out of his hands now.

Step Four consisted of many things. A compliment here and there, ("Wow, Harry, your potion looks good!" "Can't wait for your match against Ravenclaw, I know you'll be brilliant!") the occasional gift, (treacle tart is the way to a man's heart, right?) and tender, meaningful glances whenever he had the chance. When the sun rose on Wednesday morning, Draco was sure that his immaculate planning was going to pay off.