Author's Note: We're finally heading into October now! I didn't really / don't intend on making each month 5 chapters long, but I did feel like it was important to spend a couple extra chapters on what the Dramione dynamic was like before it became the Harry/Ron/Hermione club.

Special Thanks: nshaikh281 for the review 😊 Lun27 I couldn't have written this much needed chapter without your support!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Draco sat across from Hermione, glancing at her every now and then as they studied in silence. Sometimes she'd look up and catch his gaze, and she'd offer a small smile in return.

He was upset, to say the least, when he found out Potter had just been named Gryffindor Seeker. Draco hadn't wanted to see anyone that night. If there was any logic to Dumbledore's and McGonagall's decision, Draco might have listened. But the whole situation was completely unfair, so there was nothing anyone could say that would make him feel better. Aware of this fact, Draco holed himself up in his dormitory. He had blamed Hermione in the moment. Maybe a tiny part of him still did. But a day passed without her presence, and Draco felt worse. He still didn't want to talk about it, but he knew seeing her would make him feel better. So he showed up to their table the following evening. Hermione looked up, neither of them said anything, she moved her books from his side of the table, and he took his seat across from her. Two weeks had passed and neither of them exchanged more words than "Goodnight."

Draco peered out the stained window nearest them. It was early October now. The leaves were beginning to tint bright yellow and orange. In the evenings, when the sun set over the edge of the Black Lake, the Scottish Highland hills would glow. With every breeze, the auburn leaves tumbled across the lawn. The lake would glitter under the sun and if you looked closely you could catch a tentacle peek up from the water's surface before dipping back in.

He tried to embrace the calmness. He found comfort in Hermione's presence, in her scratching quill and her rhythmic hms and ahs. It was easier to be around her than almost anyone else. The school had been buzzing for the last two weeks. It was practically a media circus. "Have you heard? Harry Potter's the new Gryffindor Seeker! I always knew he'd do well," Draco had heard the Gryffindor ghost remark. Draco had wanted to vomit on the spot. If looks could kill, the ghost might have died twice. No wonder someone had murdered him.

Most of the castle's inhabitants were no better. Draco could feel Marcus Flint trying to catch his eye for the first few days after the news broke. Draco was too embarrassed and went to great lengths to avoid him, the least of which was scarfing down his dinner so he could leave early. The past two flying classes had been excruciating as well. They had become hour-long sessions of Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan asking Potter about what Quidditch practice was like, which always ended up turning into a debate about Quidditch versus the muggle sport "Football." Muggles were so unimaginative. Then Thursday flying classes were always followed by Friday Potions. This was slightly less painful, as Snape would deduct five points from Gryffindor anytime someone tried to bring up the topic of Potter as the new Seeker. This was predictably followed by a collective snicker from the Slytherins. They were tired of hearing it as well.

The library was his refuge. Hermione understood him. Whenever a Gryffindor mentioned Quidditch in class, Hermione would chastise them with a sharp "Shush! I'm trying to concentrate!" If this was for Draco's benefit, Hermione gave no indication of it. She never looked at him. She would just immediately return to her schoolwork, and the Gryffindors would huff and pass notes to each other instead.

He was becoming very fond of Hermione. He didn't need to brag around her, though she indulged him when he did. He didn't need to put on a show as if she was his audience. He could just be around her, and she'd accept it. She accepted him. In the five short weeks he had known her, he found that he truly valued her company.

He broke his gaze from the lake to regard his friend. The orange light bounced off her bushy hair and highlighted half of her face. Light freckles were now visible, but they'd disappear again soon with the setting sun. Within the hour he was sure he'd see her pull out her jar and place a BlueBell on their table.

Hermione must have felt his stare, because she suddenly asked, "Yes, Draco?" without tearing her eyes away from her scroll.

"Nothing," Draco murmured. He returned his attention to the lake.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her look up at him, then out the window as well. After a few seconds she said, "Draco, I've been wondering…" She paused as if unsure how continue. Draco turned back to her and gave her a curious look.

She bit her lip. "Why don't you ever study with any of your Slytherin friends?" She quickly shook her head. "Not to say that I don't enjoy studying with you! I do! But I'm just curious… Don't they ever wonder where you are?"

Draco chuckled. "Are you inviting them?" She gave a thoughtful frown at this. Clearly, she hadn't considered it before. He watched her open and close her mouth a couple of times before putting her out of her misery. "I'm not sure, really," he replied. "We've all known each other a while. But studying has never been something we've done together."

Hermione tilted her head at this. "Well, how are you all friends then?"

Draco paused. He supposed he hadn't ever described his friends before. There had been no need to. "Well… I'd say Nott and Pansy are my best friends – "

" – I thought Crabbe and Goyle?"

"No," he corrected her. "I can see how you'd think so." He wasn't sure where to begin. "All of our families know each other, so the lot of us grew up together. Nott, Pansy, and I were always close. But when we were younger, Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent didn't really fit in…" He looked for her reaction.

"But why not? If you all grew up together?"

He drew a long breath. "Well, they were just different from us. Crabbe and Goyle didn't really catch on to our jokes. Didn't want to play as much. And we didn't really mind, honestly." Draco felt he was struggling to explain the dynamic.

Hermione nodded slowly. "What changed?"

Draco took a second to consider his next words. "My mother, I suppose? She thought we weren't being nice to them. She pulled me aside one day and gave me a long talk about how wizarding families should be loyal to each other. And that I should try to include them. So I did. And they stuck around." It was ironic, really. Crabbe and Goyle could be thuggish, and not very bright, but honestly they were just two loyal and protective boys.

"And Millicent?"

"Have you seen her?" Draco scoffed. "Crabbe and Goyle aren't nearly as scary. We were all running around playing once and she tackled Nott. Broke his wrist. Nott avoided her after that."

Hermione stifled a laugh. "Okay… and what about the rest?" she inquired.

"Oh, right… Well, Blaise has always kept more to himself. A bit of a private fellow. We get along, but not as close. Same goes for Tracey, I suppose. Daphne used to play with us when we were younger, but she'd get sick, so her mum wanted her to stay home. Pansy is still pretty close with the girls, though."

"Huh," Hermione said. "And none of them pay any mind to where you go after dinner?"

He shrugged. "Not really, no. We don't need to be around each other all the time."

Hermione nodded with understanding. "I guess that makes sense."

Draco felt obligated to ask. "What about you? Why don't you study with your house?" He didn't really want to hear about the Gryffindors, but part of him figured she must not care for them much if she was always studying with him. And if she had something against the Gryffindors, then he didn't mind hearing it.

"They're alright… But I feel like they all paired up, you know? Harry and Ron. Dean and Seamus. Lavender and Parvati. Even Romilda and Eloise. Maybe they're friends out of necessity, to avoid me and Neville, but I don't really mind. They're nice, but the conversations are rather dull, and Neville isn't that bad."

Draco resisted the urge to snort. It didn't work.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. Was she protective of Neville? She stuck her nose in the air. "I think he's actually rather brave."

Draco burst out laughing. "You're joking. Longbottom? The boy can't even get through Potions class without trembling in fear." Draco imitated Longbottom's frightened demeanor.

"I never said he wasn't afraid," Hermione snapped. "But it takes a lot of courage to wake up every day and face your fears."

Draco scowled at this. He was tempted to ask her if she fancied Longbottom. He opened his mouth to make the retort, but quickly decided against it. He had already accused her of having a crush on Potter, and asking her again about Longbottom might make her think he was jealous. Which he wasn't. So with a controlled voice, he asked "And you? What are you afraid of?" to change the subject.

Hermione turned her head to gaze out the window. The dimming light bounced off her features. "I don't really like flying."

He believed it. It was no secret she was having trouble in flying class. It was so strange to watch her be so overeager in Potions to the point of being borderline annoying, and then see her look at her broom with complete trepidation. Hermione could barely get three feet in the air without thrusting her handle down to return to the ground. He once watched her do this a dozen times in a row while talking to herself ("Okay. Okay, Hermione. You can do this. Slowly, Yes, that's it. No, no it's not!"). He so badly wanted to give her direction and encourage her. Maybe show off a little bit in class. But that would be a bad idea.

"Do you have any fears?" she asked before he could respond.

Draco immediately scoffed. "Me? No," he answered reflexively. Malfoys weren't afraid.

"Oh, come on, Draco. Everyone is afraid of something."

He didn't like where this conversation was headed. He looked away. His entire upbringing revolved around not showing weakness. Malfoys were always in control. How could someone who was vulnerable ever command power or respect? Power and respect were the pillars of the Malfoy legacy.

If she was a muggleborn, he was taught not to trust her at all.

Hermione placed her hand on his. She was touching him. He had never touched her before. He stared at her hand on his, unable to move. Should he move his thumb? Should he pull away? Maybe he could pretend to sneeze so he wouldn't have to choose. "It's fine. You don't have to tell me," she offered. He froze. When he didn't respond, she pulled her hand back. "We can talk about something else. Or we can go back to studying." Her reassuring tone almost masked the disappointment in her voice.

She wasn't touching him anymore. Her hand was back on her quill.

Draco's eyes caught hers.

She gave him an understanding smile.

He thought back to the last few weeks. She accepted him. She accepted him. She accepted him.

Draco steadied himself. "I don't want to disappoint my parents. Mainly my father." That was all the information he was willing to offer.

Silence hung between them for moment before she responded. "Thank you for telling me. I'm sure that took some courage." She then reached for her jar, murmured a quick spell, and a blue flame came to life between them.