Trégua

Here's a shout-out to ladyinthecloak, beta extraordinaire!!

Disclaimer: I'm making no profit in this...I just took someone else's brilliant ideas and ran with them.

Chapter Twenty: Trégua

-~-

"Well, I think that went perfectly well, don't you?"

Returning to her desk, Hermione replied, "I hope so." She bound the experiment notes in her Potions journal and tucked it neatly into her bag.

Malfoy watched her pensively as she did so, organizing himself to walk back to dorm, as this was the last class of the day. She was a little disconcerted by the attention, but did not comment.

"Well, I'll...er...see you tomorrow, then," she muttered, flinching as she picked up her overstuffed bag from the desk. Malfoy said nothing but unsheathed his wand, calmly pointing it at her...well, she thought it had been at her but it was actually pointing at her bag...and suddenly said book-bag felt light as air. "Oh!" she gasped at the odd sensation. "Thank you."

"Didn't you use a modified expanding charm on that famous purse of yours last year? They reported it in the Prophet, although it might've been a rumour."

"Well, yes, I did..." She trailed off, realizing her stupidity.

"Did you think it only worked on out-of-fashion carrying purses?" He smirked. They filed out of the classroom with the rest of them and headed for the Entrance Hall.

She blushed. "I guess I just wasn't thinking."

"What?" Malfoy gasped, dramatically. "Everyone!" he exclaimed in the middle of the hallway. "I have an announcement! Granger wasn't thinking! I repeat: GRANGER WAS NOT..."

Hermione smacked him upside the head, and the others around them either chuckled or looked on in awe as the two would-be enemies were flirting. "Shut it, you!" she growled, half-heartedly.

Malfoy just sniggered and put his hands up in surrender. This sudden camaraderie was nic...erm... extremely strange.

They walked on for a while at a slow pace until Malfoy asked suddenly, "How much sleep are you getting, eh?"

She looked at him quizzically. As if he has any concern for my wellbeing.

"You don't forget things like that, Granger," he said by way of explanation. "I should know; I've been trying to keep up with your utter brilliance all these years."

Hermione frowned slightly.

"And," he continued, "I haven't seen you in the dining hall nearly as often as I used to."

Now, this was getting ridiculous. "Let me get this straight. You've been watching for me in the dining hall?" Hermione's eyebrows rose considerably.

Malfoy shrugged. "Sixth year, Potter was onto me, so I was always keeping an eye on the three of you obnoxious Gryffindors. And when Potter was missing, which usually meant he was obsessing over me... that left you and Weasel at the table...he's very hard not to stare at, Weasley. Complete shit at table manners."

Hermione laughed, "It's like watching a televised plastic surgery program! You don't want to, but you can't help but stare!"

He just looked confused, but quickly recovered. "Well, I haven't a clue what you're on about, but I'll take your word for it."

"Right. Sorry. Muggle stuff."

He continued right along as if she had never interrupted, "And this year, Potter's got his fame and fiancée, Weasley's made a complete git of himself and is probably at this very moment groping that twig-of-a-Hufflepuff because he can't grope you, and you're alone."

She blanched at his rather blunt but intuitive assessment.

"You haven't been eating or sleeping; that much is obvious. Although you do look much better than you did a week ago. If you were sleeping, you wouldn't have to rely on the second most brilliant person in school to help you with charms you could normally do in your sleep."

She stuttered at this matter-of-fact tone and then spat, "When did you become all considerate and nice? I have good reason to believe you're either plotting against me or plotting to get in my knickers, so out with it!"

"Listen, Granger," he started.

"What happened to 'Mudblood'? Huh?!" Hermione shouted.

Malfoy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to wipe the pained expression off his pale face. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, finally.

She said nothing but looked at him confusedly.

"I'm sorry for everything. I wish I could say everything I've ever said or done was an act...some of it was, mind...but I can't change what's happened between us in the past. I've had time to think... about things. A lot of time," he said emphatically.

"And?" Hermione prompted, her voice small.

"No one should hate you for something you can't control."

Hermione stopped breathing. She'd never heard it phrased so eloquently before. Sure, she'd whined about the unfairness of prejudice and all, but...

"Besides," he continued after an attempt to gauge her reaction, "magic isn't carried in the blood, really. There's no such thing as a 'pureblood' unless you're referring to how long magic has been taught in the family. If you were gifted with this power without association, you must be truly extraordinary."

"Well...er...I..." She had absolutely no fucking clue what to say to that.

"You see... I'm trying to make amends." He held out his hand. "Can we call a truce, Hermione?"

She was hesitant, but she eventually took his hand and gave it a light shake. "Truce, Malfoy."

"Draco," he corrected her, giving her small hand a light squeeze.

She smiled tentatively. "Draco."

--

"Hello, Minerva," Severus said when she had bid him enter her quarters.

"Severus! How was your Monday?"

"I would think you've learned not to ask me that question."

"You are right," the Headmistress chuckled. "Mondays are always the worst."

"Too right. But Thursdays come in close second," he said as he sat down in the chair opposite her in front of her fire.

"Indeed. Almost...but not quite...the weekend. I understand." Minerva held a glass of single malt scotch in her hand, two large cubes of ice swirled in the stout glass as the golden liquid flowed around them. "How was your weekend then, Severus?"

"Agreeable, actually. I popped in to visit my grandmother in Ansouis. Of course, I also collected the regular potions ingredients native to that area. Poppies, snails, lavender." He folded one leg over the other and clasped his hands together.

"How is she, Severus?"

"... Her health is declining, but she has a young lady from the next town who cooks and cleans for her, now."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. The girl is competent, though?"

"Well enough. Although, I think she may be nicking 'Mère's crystal every now and then. I couldn't find the gravy boat the last time I checked."

"Goodness me."

"I know; why 'Mere wanted the gravy boat at that particular time is beyond me."

"I didn't mean..."

He grunted dismissively. "Her things are of no use to me, but she insisted that I inherit 'the estate' once she's gone."

"I'm sure you'll have a good use for the place. The way you describe it, it sounds lovely. Have you thought of making it your permanent residence, Severus? After she's gone, that is."

"Trying to get rid of me already, Headmistress?"

"Ohh!" Her Scottish burr was evident in her mock frustration. "You know I didn't mean it that way. Over the holidays and during the summers...when you're not teaching. So you can get away from all this nonsense."

"That's actually what I've... wanted to speak with you about."

"Oh?"

"I've been pondering the possibility of private business."

"During the summers?"

"Full time, Minerva. I've never liked teaching, and you know it. I only ever did it for Dumbledore and I agreed to stay on the team this year because I knew it would be extremely difficult to find a competent Potions master to do the job on such short notice. I've had enough of working for someone else, if you know what I mean. I wish to open up for an apprenticeship."

"Severus, obviously I understand that you never enjoyed teaching, but must you leave so soon?" She sighed. "Stay until your ten year contract is up. As you said, you know how difficult it is to find a capable teacher when there's only two months to look. If I start looking now, it will be easier for both of us."

"Minerva."

"Please, Severus. You're my Deputy. And you're sane...most of the time. I'll need much more time than two months to find someone and have him or her cleared by the school board. Stay three or four more years."

"As you wish, Headmistress," he acquiesced gruffly, although McGonagall knew he had agreed full-heartedly. She knew it would be difficult to leave his only true home of twenty-some years.

"On another matter, how is Miss Granger?"

Severus' ears perked up and he sat straighter in the high backed chair. "I believe she and Mister Malfoy have made peace, as of today."

"Oh, well that's good news, I suppose."

Severus shrugged.

"What?"

Not wanting to jump up and screech, 'I WANT HER ALL TO MYSELF, YOU DUMB BINT,' Severus settled on an eloquent "Ah... I can't help but think he's up to something."

"Well, people change, Severus."

"Not that fucking quickly."

"I've a perfect counter-argument to that claim," Minerva said smugly with a raise of a sharp eyebrow.

"Who, then?"

"You, Severus."

"... Well, I'm allowed to be suspicious. Especially after her incident...she's particularly vulnerable."

"Of course, Professor. You may keep an eye on him. He's had a rough time this year, as well. You know he never had the heart to join his father, but he was still confined with the rest of them for two months, this summer."

"I will. Now, what did you wish to discuss? Not another ball, surely?"

"Oh, no no! Graduation this year will be particularly extravagant, though."

Severus groaned.

Minerva stood and got herself another bit of scotch, Severus waving her off when she silently pointed to her bottle sitting where Dumbledore's Pensieve used to dwell.

"I swear, woman, you are channelling the old fool more and more these days."

"I resent that, Deputy Headmaster!" said the 'old fool' from his oil painting.

A/N: I hope you sort of kind of liked this chapter! I myself think it's rather uneventful and boring on Severus' side, but after the next chapter he'll actually be taking a bigger role. I swear. I think. XD

Oh, and P.S., this is where things will start to slow down because we are quickly catching up with my FF.net account. Soon, I will be submitting the chapters as I write them.... Oh, God.