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Harry Potter and The Sanguine Brother's Bond	By : OranjeJoe Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 7043 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
A/N : So this will probably be my last update for about a week. I really need to buckle down and get some school work done. But don't lose hope, I will mostly likely break down and write the next chapter soon despite my best intentions.

He was awoken by a soft giggle, and then several quiet footsteps as his mother placed a hand on his shoulder and gently shook him awake. When finally he recovered enough mental lucidity to remember the giggles he had heard, he was startled to think it was his mother, and looked quickly around the room for someone else. He found Hermione sitting with her hand over her mouth in one of the chairs by the fire place. He looked down and found himself wrapped in only one sheet, with the rest of them rolled up into a roughly human approximation, and it seemed, he had been cuddling with it for most of the night.

He disentangled himself from the sheets quickly, and muttered a spell that quickly smoothed out the sheets. He snuggled under them, looking thoroughly embarrassed and glared darkly at his mother. How dare she just bring Hermione in here without even checking to see if he was decent.

She merely laughed and left he room, sharing a knowing glance with Hermione as she shut the door. Draco summoned some robes out of his trunk and spelled the curtains shut so he could pull on some clothes in privacy.

When finally he emerged, he noticed that Hermione had laid out an enormous selection of books on the large table that occupied the far corner of the room. Some of them looked quite ancient, and many of them were written in runic titles that Draco only understood after some study. She watched him quietly as he inspected the selection, which was composed mostly of books on obliviation and related psychological magics. He was also surprised to see the pensive sitting between them, its still mirror like surface reflecting light up onto the ceiling.

They both watched the light playing across the dark wood before she met his eyes and answered his unasked question. "It will help me see the extent to which the memory has been obliviated. What I have heard from Dumbledore makes it seem like the obliviator in question did not quite know how to finish the spell. Is this correct?"

Draco was surprised by the lack of preamble in their discussion. He had at least expected some awkward conversation about their letters, or about Harry, or whether or not he had well and truly given up his life of darkness. Instead, Hermione seemed to be all business, though Draco could tell she hadn't been sleeping very much lately, if the shadows under her eyes were anything to go by. He slid into the chair beside her, feeling very on edge, he would have to be very careful lest she catch on just how much he missed the stupid prat.

"I assume you will want to start from the beginning then? With the memory." She nodded curtly.

"Begin with dinner."

"With dinner? I hardly think that's necessary Granger." Curse the mudblood, she was using this opportunity to dig for more than she needed to. She smilied slightly as she caught his unintentional wince. Shit, he had not prepared for this.

"Do you want my help or not Malfoy?" She said spitefully, pretending to begin gathering the books about her. Silently he chastised himself for even thinking the word mudblood, it would not do him good to blurt that out now.

Draco sighed and tapped his wand to his temple, summoning the memory forth with a silent incantation. He dropped it grumpily into the bowl and scowled across the table at Hermione, who had risen and was leaning into the pensive before he even had time to blink.

He waited in extreme agitation as he watched the time flash and flicker on the surface of the pensive. He had never known that it was possible to enter into the experience of another using the device, but he certainly was seeing it a lot in recent time. He remembered glumly that it had actually been three weeks since the last time, and sat back in his chair reflecting on how odd it was to completely miss so much of one's life.

When Hermione emerged only minutes later, she was already deep in thought. Malfoy knew that she was now aware of the flashes of Harry's face that had flicked into his mind when Dumbledore had mentioned distractions at dinner. She also no doubt felt his disappointment at her letter, and his disbelief at the amount of faith she'd had in their potential. She would know that along with a thousand other thoughts that would've much rather kept secret, like the fact that he'd retired to their room with intense arousal, and had turned to his cello to distract him. She would have felt and experienced every ounce of emotion he had poured over those strings, feelings he himself didn't even properly understand. Like why the hell he was so hot and bothered by Harry in the first place, for one the boy was an unconventional beauty, and his arrogance and pigheadedness seemed to surpass all expectations.

Draco realized he was getting defensive even before Hermione began speaking, and quickly focused on his breathing to calm himself. She seemed to perceive this (damn her) and waited until his face relaxed before proceeding.

"I suppose we should just get it out of the way in the first place, otherwise I'll be thinking about it the whole time we go through this." She sucked in her breath and looked at him with piercing eyes, they were brown and did nothing to stir Malfoy's soul. And he was struck with the image of Potter staring fiercely at him from across the great hall, and because this had never been a happy memory for him he felt its effects with full force. Instead of cringing in shame as he had at the time, he felt heat rise in his face.

She was about to speak, but looked at him with her eyebrow raised, causing him to blush further. "Well I knew that you had feelings for him Malfoy, otherwise you wouldn't have written to the likes of me." She paused and seemed very uncomfortable, as if she was asking him for some sort of confirmation. Draco was not going to give her anything, this discussion wasn't going to help him get his memories back, and if she wanted to stick her nose into places she shouldn't, she bloody well deserved to be uncomfortable.

He folded his arms and scowled back at her. "I just… didn't know they had the potential to be romantic." She began to chew her bottom lip, and once again looked at Draco for some sort of response. Sighing, she gave into her punishment and continued. "I was somewhat hesitant to trust you, you know, given the history between our little group of friends. But now I can see, I have felt, your admiration for him. It's very cute you know. Quite romantic." She seemed to remember something that he had thought and scowled.

Draco smiled back at her. "I needn't say that its a bit too romantic if you ask me, Granger. As embarrassing as it is to have you know of my feelings, you should know that Potter isn't the only one who catches my eye."

"Don't lie to me Draco. I have felt what you've felt. I know of your desperation, and your loneliness. The way you feel when he looks at you, its how I've felt with Ron for the past - Merlin knows how long."

"Please Granger, try not to mention that sort of thing around me anytime soon, I'm still recovering from illness."

"Oh grow up Malfoy, we're talking about you and Harry. And if you must know, if Harry ever comes - when Harry comes, back… I just wanted to let you know that I approve."

"You approve of what? For the last time, all I want with Harry is friendship. Yes, he happens to… excite me, but that is only temporary. I've had it happen to me many times in the past." Draco wasn't sure why he was trying so desperately to get Hermione to believe his lies, but he felt it had something to do with that fact that he wasn't quite ready to accept his true feelings himself.

"I will not be continuing with this until you can admit to me that your feelings for Potter extend beyond platonic." She crossed her arms and looked determinedly away in a huff.

"Fine, I'm just - I'm not sure yet. For Merlin's sake we were only together for two days. And he spent half that time wallowing in his own self pity and pretending we couldn't help him defeat the Dark Lord. No doubt he has told you of what happened?" Seeing her expression, he went on, "Then you will understand that when and if he finally gets over this particular bout of arrogance, he will certainly associate me with its memory indefinitely. I will be the blond who brought down his defenses, made him feel his loneliness and opened him up to Dark Lord. Our past is troubled and convoluted. How can he trust that even if we were to move beyond that one moment, I wouldn't leave him the next? How can he trust me Hermione, when I don't even trust myself?" He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to make sure he had said everything he had been thinking about. Remembering one last thing, he began speaking again, "In less than two months everything I have ever known about myself and this world has come crashing down around me. I am lost Hermione. I don't know myself, and I can't say who I will be. I can't ask Harry to want me, broken as I am. He needs someone strong and solid beneath him. And as much as I think maybe, potentially, I might want to be that person, I can't. It's not love Hermione, I'm just clinging to the one and only person who can see me for who I am. I just need- I need more friends."

And there it was, He had just spilled his guts to perhaps the second most unlikely person in the world.

A long silence grew between them, and Draco spent it thinking about just how common it was becoming to have these awkward quiet moments with the people around him. He felt Hermione's intense concentration, he could practically see the calculation on her face and was oddly reminded of a muggle device he'd once seen when he visited the muggle library. He chuckled a bit when he remembered the look on the clerks face when he'd asked for books about 'Actual magic'. Stupid pureblood games of muggle baiting.

Hermione was about to speak when he began to chuckle, and though she raised an eyebrow at him yet again, she ignored his laughter. "Very well then, I suppose we should move onto the actual task at hand."

"You're shitting me Granger. You have nothing to say after all that? Fuck." Draco hung his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's because you know I'm right. We aren't meant to be together in any capacity."

She put her hands out quickly, trying to placate him. "No, no, its nothing like that. I just… didn't expect you to be so genuine with me. It's going to take me a bit to think of the proper thing to say. And yes, maybe I am being a bit romantic, but at the very least you need to be friends. There is so much you can do for each other."

"Fine, fine let's just drop it." Though he was a bit glad that she was finally agreeing with him, to a certain extent he had very much hoped for her to insist that he and Harry could possibly be something more than friends. He had been so blind these past six years, in more ways than one. He couldn't help but imagine what the world might've been like if he and Potter hadn't been on opposite sides of the divide from the start.

"The first thing we need to do is try to see if we can find a spell signature within the fog, its going to take some exploring. Seems who ever did this is really quite the amateur, I would even wager that it may have been the first time they've really meant to cast the spell."

"Really? How can you tell, it feels the same as it did when professor Moody did it to us."

"Exactly, you see, he didn't really have his heart in it."

"Could've fooled me, the bloody wanker."

They both shared an awkward giggle at that, and the tension that had grown between them seemed to lighten a little.

"You are extremely fortunate really. Given the state of the spell, I would say you had about an 80% chance of having your memory wiped completely." She paused a little to let him get over his shock before charging mercilessly ahead. "Yes, Draco, its incredibly dangerous, all the psychological magics are. In any case, the caster only barely covered the memory, we should still be able to feel around. And if we can find the place where the actual spell was cast, I might just be able to reveal the signature."

"Well let's get started then!" Draco exclaimed, rising towards the pensive.

Half an hour later they still sat as the light from the outside window grew steadily brighter and brighter. He no longer needed the lamps to read the books that Hermione had coerced him into reading before they could begin their practical examination of the memory. He had sat in his chair silently fuming about mudbloods and how Hermione really ought to be in Ravenclaw or Slytherin instead of Gryffindor, before eventually giving into the evil eye that watched him from across the table.

If Draco's life had been in a less turbulent state, he probably would have been quite interested in the yellowed pages that she lay before him. But as it were, he found himself rereading the sentences several times before just managing to comprehend what they were saying. The more she shoved across the table, the more he seemed to think they were all saying the same thing. 'There were subtle differences' she would say; Draco was hard pressed to believe it really mattered if the fog was slightly cool in some places, and barely warm in others. He tried to raise the matter with her, but her glare stifled the words in his throat, and dutifully he continued to trudge through the papery mess that was becoming the table until well into the afternoon.

His mother, bless her soul, demanded that they leave and come to dinning room for lunch. Despite Hermione's intense protests, Narcissa eventually had them settled around the table, though Malfoy was certain the bushy haired girl had managed to smuggle a book along somehow.

It was a quiet affair, both resisted his mother's attempts at conversation. Malfoy was lost in his thoughts, and Hermione seemed quite wary of speaking to the former wife of a vehement muggle hater. And though Narcissa seemed genuinely interested in what Hermione wanted to do after graduating Hogwarts, Malfoy couldn't help but wonder if she still made the same mental slip ups. Calling people mudbloods and the like by accident. He no longer genuinely believed in the elitist pureblood ideals but he often caught himself running the same familiar loops in his head. The ruts of thought had been ingrained in his mind so thoroughly that he still felt a twinge of cowardice when he strayed off the path.

For lunch Narcissa had made simple chicken salad sandwiches, using the left over's from last night no doubt. He chuckled at the thought of the ancient house Malfoy being forced to eat leftovers. Before his thoughts could stray towards his father, however, he lost himself within the faint taste of rosemary and the refreshing crunch of moist springy lettuce.

"You mean to say that people actually pay your parents to drill holes in their teeth? Quite a nasty affair if you ask me."

"Well you see, Muggles can't clean their teeth by magic." After realizing that she might have sounded a tad patronizing, she added quickly. "Obviously, but the point being that people neglect their teeth because it takes a but more effort to clean them manually."

"Ha, even if I had to clean them with a toothpick I wouldn't stand a fuzzy mouth for a moment. Merlin." Yes, she still had her wizard elitism, thought Malfoy to himself as the conversation lapsed into an inordinate silence.

"I'm going to take a break Hermione, if I read one more word about Heldegaard's third rule of pensive exploration I swear you will see my brain leaking out of my ears. I'll be out for a walk." He stood up and was out walking towards the front door before either of them could so much as turn in his direction.

Less than a minute later a ruckus noise could be heard from the entrance hall that caused both Hermione and Narcissa to turn in their chairs, holding their hands to their mouths in alarm. Had Draco been in the room he might have been sickened by their synchronized gasping, as it were, he was in the hallway aiming his wand at the door and shouting an endless string of profanity and curses in its direction. Explosions of fire and white lightning soon became lost in the cloud of dust and debris that collected in the air about him. His wand felt hot in his hand, and he could feel the shocked gaze of his mother and Granger staring at him cautiously from around the banister.

Curse Dumbledore and his stupid protective wards. Malfoy was a fully fledged wizard for fucks sake, it's not as if the death eater's waited only steps beyond the mangled hedges.

"Mr Malfoy is not to leave this house." Said the door in creaking, fibrous voice.

"Mr Malfoy will do what ever the fuck he pleases!"

"I shall relay your message to the Headmaster upon his return to this residence, Mr Malfoy."

"No- no please don't. It's fine, just a little unexpected is all." Replied Malfoy with a tightness in his voice, desperate to keep the door from letting Dumbledore know about his little outrage.

"Very well Mr Malfoy, I shall cancel the message request. Additionally, the post will be arriving in five - four - three - two -"

A tightly rolled copy of the Prophet flew out of the mail slot to slap Malfoy roughly on the side of his face. His hand clenched his wand ominously, but he allowed himself to be lead away by the slightly shaking hands of his mother.

Draco found himself leaning over an ancient copy of 'Partial Obliviation and other Medieval torture techniques for use on Muggles' far sooner than he'd expected. He was on the verge of asking Hermione why on earth she of all people would posses this book, when she laid the prophet down on the table and looked at him with a mixture of fear and hope in her eyes. He found it quite an odd combination, and hesitated to ask what she had found in the paper, feeling a lump rise in his throat, knowing it had something to do with Harry.

"Tell me Draco, do you find it odd how late the paper was this morning?" She leaned low, and spoke in quiet voice that set Draco's nerves on fire.

"Of course I do granger. But that's hardly the point, now are you going to tell me what is important enough to interrupt my 'necessary study of the difference between partial obliviation on muggles and wizard-folk'?" He let an extra dose of mocking tone slip into his impression of her instructions, furrowing his brow at her. She of all people should understand how tense he must be, and how little these hushed tones helped.

She was affronted by the tone of his voice and looked away with a little huffing noise. Obnoxiously, she flicked the paper open again, and disappeared behind its yellowing and maze like text. Malfoy was determined not to be the one to break their stalemate, and crossed his arms and sat back in his chair nosily, making sure Hermione knew just how peeved he was. They continued this battle of conspicuous shifting and throat clearing for nearly five minutes before Hermione gave in and set the paper down in a rage.

She flipped roughly to the second to last page in the paper, and began reading in a very short tone, speaking slowly as if Malfoy didn't really grasp the mechanics of the English language. "Shortly after the start of the work day, ministry officials were alerted to a disturbance in public toilet entrance 43 A. Upon further inspection they discovered two men who had been chained to the stall doors, and were unconscious. Ordinarily this would have been a relatively simple matter, but witnesses say that they saw several auror's enter the bathroom, leading us to believe that the two men may have a connection to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Ministry officials would not comment on this matter, but did say at a press hearing late this morning, that the two men appear to have been obliviated as well as stupefied, and that examiners are attempting to reveal a spell signature."

She set down the paper again and scowled at him with pursed lips, looking uncannily similar to Madam Pince.

"Right, well shocking as that is, I don't really see what it has to do with Harry. Or do you actually expect me to believe that our little hero was the one who brought them in, assuming they are actually death eaters as the prophet believes."

"I expect you to be, at the very least, worried that the death eaters are active while Harry's whereabouts are unknown."

"Of course they will be active, Granger, they always have been and always will be. And I suspect that if any of them had actually managed to find him, we'd have known about it by now. The Dark Lord would not hesitate to let the world know that Harry is a fugitive."

He watched as she made up her mind and let out her breath in a huff. He could sense that her anger still lingered, but she pulled the pensive towards her and stirred it stiffly with her wand. "Fine, Let's just get on with this. I assume by now you understand the general theory?"

"I think we've covered a but more than just the basics, Merlin, I even picked up a few new tricks for muggle torture." As he had hoped, she gave a slight chuckle at his sarcastic remark and motioned for him to stand.

As they began to fall head first into the misty wastes of his memory, she said softly, "I sometimes forget that the rest of the world isn't quite as thick as Harry and Ron can sometimes be."

The cool grey mist swirled about them as they stood in the seemingly infinite space that surrounded them. For a moment Draco was lost in the oddity of it, watching his hands being swallowed up by smoky white tendrils as he held them out. Hermione made a little impatient noise and he hasted to follow her, lest they loose each other in the haze.

Soon they had found a wall, which, based on the layout of the room, they guessed was the far wall. Their suspicions were confirmed when they found the window. It was quite an experience for Draco, being able to run his hands over the dark wood grain of the window sill and hold the cool brass handle under his fingers without being able to see anything. As he turned to see where Hermione had gotten too, he felt it swing out and strike him in the back right between the shoulder blades. He stumbled over what he could only assume was Harry's trunk, and felt rain begin to soak his back. Cool air washed over them as Hermione rushed to help him up. She in turn tripped and cussed as she ran into something herself.

To Draco it sounded like she had hit something solid and wooden and he quickly threw a hand towards the noise. He was shocked to feel not the hard wood of his cello, but the soft skin of his face, and he withdrew his hand quickly. It was unnerving to feel his own skin, wet and hot beneath his fingers. As he touched himself a jolt of emotion ran up through his fingers and he clutched at his chest as he felt anger and desperation. Flashes of images overtook his mind, and among them in dazzling brilliance was Harry and his face stained with tears as Draco slowly fell back onto the ground, crying tears of his own and looking out the window now with rain coming down upon his face like stinging nettles and he must get to Potter he must get to Potter. He jumped as he felt Hermione's hand clutch his shoulder, and found himself grasping at the window sill. His nails dug into the polished wood as he felt a great shiver run through him, and felt a familiar squeezing sensation.

"I've just aparated Hermione. But it - it doesn't seem like I went very far. It's like I can feel myself now." He felt a little tug in his mind, that told him he was now outside, but then he felt a little squeeze again and the tug was gone.

"Shit! I've done it again. And now the tug is gone. Shit! Get out of the way." Draco pushed Hermione away in an attempt to get at the door, only to fall directly on top of his cello. Cursing he tried to lift himself up but as he moved blindly forward the world seemed to rise a float up about him. He swam and clawed towards the spot where he knew the door ought to be, but it was hopeless, they were being sucked up out of the memory. The white mist blurred past his vision and he felt it ghost over his skin.

"We've got to go back in Hermione, we've got to go now!"

"Hold on Draco, we have to let the memory settle a bit before we jump back in or we could risk tearing it, you may have already begun to unravel it when you touched your memory-self. Didn't you read that section by Sir Clemen that I gave you? It specifically warned against touching your own body in the memory."

"It was an accident." He said simply, and challenged her to berate him any further. The feelings that had welled up within him were still coursing through his veins and he very much doubted he could keep himself from shouting if she kept up this tone.

Both of them did their best to ignore the fact that they'd just called each other by their first names.

Hermione busied herself by rereading the ancient texts that she probably already knew by heart, while Draco paced about the room, trying to remember where they had landed in the memory and trying to memorize exactly how to reach the door from that location. All the while he tired to recapture the little bit of his memory that had transferred too him, but each time he did so the images faded just a little, and so he soon have that up, knowing he would need to keep Harry's face clear and sharp for when he lay alone late at night.

He could feel Hermione tensing again but he didn't care. It was her fault for making them wait so long to go back into the memory. He only had so many thoughts to go through at the moment and all them risked bringing forth that beautiful face, so Hermione was going to have to put up with his pacing if she ever wanted him to stay sane. Though the knew slytherin side of her that he was coming to understand might want exactly that, he thought with some bitterness. He knew he was being melodramatic, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

"All right, let's just get on with it then." Said an exasperated Hermione five minutes later, and Draco was beside her in an instant. He was already making his way through the nebulous gray with practiced steps towards the door when Hermione landed behind him. She called out to him but he made no change in his pace. He felt the door blow open, and winced as a spell shot through his chest, but he ignored the sensation as best he could, and moved past the phantom Harry and out into the hallway.

He stumbled a few times trying to run down the stairs blindly, and finally resigned himself to clutching the railing and taking the steps like a toddler, putting each foot on each step before continuing. He heard Hermione reach the steps and heard her miss the first step, still yelling out his name. Finally he reached the bottom, gasping as he put his foot down a little too roughly. Pushing past the pain he rounded the corner and nearly sprinted down the hall, running his hands along to wall guide himself forward.

"Mr Malfoy is not to leave this house." And he slid down the front of the dark oak on the verge of tears. He let one of his fists slam ineffectually against the stupid mother fucking door that was once again preventing him from going out in search of Harry.

"Malfoy! Malfoy! What is happening? Is that the door again." She brushed up against him and bent down to help him up.

He pushed her away, thankful that she could not see the anguish on his face. "It's no use Hermione. We'll never get outside."

She put her hand on her hips, and though Draco could only see a fuzzy shape in the mist, he knew that she was scowling down at him. "Correction, you can't go outside, but I can. Now move over before we get sucked back out again. You've probably apparated by now, what direction are you headed?"

"Three o'clock, after that I have no idea. But you won't get very far if I can't be out there to get the next direction. I think this feeling has something to do with proximity."

She said nothing, but reached out a hand to pull him out of the way. As soon as he was standing she pushed him roughly aside and pulled the door open. He tried to follow right behind her, hoping that the door would let him pass once the portal was open, but he felt his nose smash painfully into a hard barrier. Stunned he reached behind him only to find that the door that had been open was now shut in front of him.

Releasing a torrent of curses and hexes, he reduced the hallway to oblivion and welcomed the rising feeling that told him the memory was dissolving. As they were ejected into the room once more, Malfoy let out one final curse and rent one of Hermione's books into a thousand pieces. They watched each other in shock as the tiny white pieces fell gracefully around them. Rage slowly colored Hermione's face and she clenched her wand tightly in her hand, muttering a reparo spell and watching the jumbled mass fly back together. A piece sliced at his cheek and he felt the overblown pain that accompanied a paper cut. He gave her a scathing look but her face remained set and stern.

"You ignorant git! What part of don't cast spells in the memory did you not understand? I need not say that neither of us will be able to us to use the door now, thanks to your uncontrollable rage. It's not a very likable trait Malfoy. Have you ever tried going through a day without having a temper tantrum?" She turned away from him and went to the window, muttering "Spoiled prat."

Malfoy stood with a hand to his cheek, battling his urge to call Hermione a mudblood. It seemed the pain had done something to calm his temper, because he eventually took a deep breath and went over to stand by the window. "I'm sorry Granger, its just very stressful for me at the moment."

"You're not the only one who is upset by Harry being gone Malfoy. He's been my best friend for six years, and - and." She stopped and but her lip, looking resolutely out of the window.

"And what Granger?"

"He was my first friend, my first real friend. Even in the muggle world children don't want to be associated with a know it all." She looked at him and Malfoy felt a twang of pity for her, there was a slight glisten in the corner of her eyes that told him she was thinking of a long and lonely childhood.

"We'll at least you managed to find friends at Hogwarts, I'm all alone now. And I always have been. You can't understand how that feels."

"You don't honestly expect me to believe that Slytherins are that inhuman. You haven't made a single true friend in all the years we've spent at that bloody castle?" She folded her arms and looked at him skeptically. He shook his head slowly, looking away so that her smile couldn't lighten his mood, he wasn't quite done being broody yet.

"Look Malfoy, I never thought it possible for you and I to have a civil conversation, yet here we are. Well, semi-civil anyway. The point is, don't count them out yet, have faith and I'm sure they will surprise you."

"Granger, I haven't gotten a single letter the entire summer. From anyone."

"I sent you a letter."

"Yes, but we aren't friends. So that doesn't quite count does it?"

"Oh yes Malfoy, I'm here trying to help you discover who it was that fucked up your mind out of pure charity."

"You're a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake, of course you do everything out of the goodness of your little heart."

"Do you absolutely have to turn every thing into a fight, Malfoy? I decided to give you a second chance, but I'm strongly reconsidering it."

The truth of Hermione's words penetrated his mind, if he expected to from legitimate relationships with people, he would have to stop trying to wear them down at every opportunity. And though everything he had ever been rejected the idea, he was going to apologize to her.

"I'm sorry Hermione, I've spent all my life treating other people as political opponents, it's not a habit I can break easily." And he extended a hand towards a very surprised looking Hermione.

She took his hand, and they shared a warm smile. Draco, feeling for the first time the unfamiliar warmth of human relationships.

"Friends?" He said with the fresh faced innocence of youth.

"Friends."

(And somewhere out in the misty wilds of the british countryside, Lucius Malfoy was clutching at his insides as several major arteries burst into spectacular crimson torrents.)

A/N: So since the response to my poll about revealing what's going on with harry has been spectacularly underwhelming, I'm just going to go with my original plan.
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Harry Potter and The Sanguine Brother's Bond