Chapter 11
Draco put in decidedly more effort to regularly write to his mother that term.
He often waxed poetic about praise from teachers, between filling her in on the biggest gossip of the week from Pansy, Greengrass, or Ito.
He wrote paragraphs about practicing spells with Theodore - who eventually managed to transfigure a handful of butterflies out of smoke, and games he won easily against Crabbe and Goyle.
After the hellish detention, however, he penned an entire letter only describing how frightening and dangerous the events of the evening turned out to be.
It felt good to vent about the experience to her, and any of his friends who still listened. Pansy loved to get angry on his behalf.
His mother wrote back the next morning. Both of his parents were riled up and ready to make the school answer for putting their only child in danger.
His father, who was on the school board of governors would put something in motion, they assured.
She didn't even ask why he received a detention in the first place.
Instead, she urged him to focus on learning and to stay out of the forest, even if a teacher tells him to go there.
His father wouldn't let him get expelled.
With every teacher reminding them about fast-approaching exams, it was easy for Draco to occupy himself.
He spent many afternoons watching spring slowly melt away the remaining blanket of ice and snow on the grounds from the library windows.
He only managed to get Crabbe and Goyle to sit and revise with him for half an hour at a time before they lost interest, but he tried to keep them involved.
Draco wanted to make up for ignoring and not appreciating their support in the past, even if he hadn't fully forgiven them for ignoring his orders once the Malfoys lost favour with the Dark Lord. Or almost killing him with Fiendfyre.
Whenever the two gave up, he somehow ended up with Granger sharing his table. He got along with her surprisingly well when focusing on studying. The other two Gryffindors reluctantly joined, although they spent more time distracting and bothering everyone than really studying.
"Do you think the Stone's still there?" Weasley would ask out of nowhere, avoiding his book.
"Can we really trust Fluffy to keep Snape out?" Potter worried while rubbing at his forehead.
"If the Stone is the only one in existence, will we stop You-Know-Who from ever coming back by protecting it?" Granger joined in once.
"Yes. Yes. Hopefully, but unlikely. There's always very dark magic..." he tried not to worry about the stone while learning. Instead, he wanted to believe that whilst Dumbledore was nearby, they would be safe.
Longbottom popped up from time to time, looking pleased to see Draco there.
It was always a welcome break from the awkward air between him and the other two boys.
He happily asked questions about bezoars and fairy wings, and brightened up when one day Draco passed him a copy of the History of Magic notes his self-writing quill transcribed throughout the year.
He only basked in the envy he saw rising up in Potter and Weasley for a moment, before Longbottom decided to share them out and take turns reading.
He was too kind for his own good, Draco thought.
"You know Malfoy, you're a right git sometimes, but at least you're starting to make up for it." said Weasley with a satisfied smile, relieved to not have to beg Hermione for her notes. He rarely managed to get through a whole lesson without dozing off for at least a few minutes.
He raised an eyebrow, but held back a biting reply for once.
"So you're just pretending not to help us." Potter theorised with a teasing lilt to his voice.
"Don't delude yourself, Potter." He maintained, catching Longbottom smiling at him for a second. As he spoke, he absentmindedly passed a useful sketch of the timeline of important dates to Weasley, corresponding to the pile of notes from the start of the year he received.
"They won't learn for themselves if you give them an easy way out." Complained Granger with a stern expression that didn't suit her youth.
Ronald Weasley, on the other hand, looked at him with superficial devotion in his eyes, which only made Draco immediately regret showing anyone his notes. Weasley cleared his throat and playfully nudged Potter.
"I'm beginning to think-"
"Good for you, Weasley. Try not to hurt yourself." He interrupted before anything else could be said, and levitated a pile of books to form a barrier between him and all the others. They dropped into place loudly enough to earn him a warning from the librarian.
On warmer, sunny days he liked to sit by the lake, practicing spells or joining a circle of the most studious Slytherins in quizzing each other.
Pansy seemed to have a sixth sense for gaps in his memorised History of Magic facts, and he retaliated in kind when they moved onto Herbology.
He liked that when his friends had other plans, he still wasn't left alone with his worries - Longbottom usually appeared to keep him company.
"It's such a nice day. This time of year is the best." he said one day in lieu of a greeting, as he dropped on the grass beside Draco.
"I prefer winter, but spring has its merits."
"Winter's too lonely, I think, but if it was any warmer there'd be a bunch of people swimming... Would you find that too noisy for studying?"
"Perhaps. We should enjoy the peace while it lasts." Draco leaned over to pick a nearby flower and twirled in his fingers.
"Do you like daffodils?" Longbottom asked.
"I suppose so. They remind me of my mother, and despite being common they're a pleasant enough sign of spring. Nothing like the rare flower breeds from our greenhouse."
"Oh, you have a greenhouse... So do you grow the daffodils in a garden?" Longbottom sat up straight.
"We have the manor grounds." Draco rested back on his elbows, looking at a cloudy sky above them, wistfully imagining he was back in his hometown. "But the flowers grow all over Wiltshire. It's a beautiful part of England, especially when all the flowers bloom in spring."
He rarely remembered it in such a pleasant way anymore, not after the atrocities that occurred there during the war. Everything looked more grey and lifeless than he wanted it to, mocking his inability to let go of the past yet to come.
"I wish my grandma lived somewhere in the countryside." Longbottom interrupted his darkening thoughts. "We have a townhouse in Southwark. She had most of the garden paved, too."
"You don't have any family living in the countryside you can visit?"
Neville shook his head, but quickly realised Draco couldn't see the gesture.
"Well, no... They're very busy, and usually visit us for important holidays."
Draco hummed in reply. A part of him wanted to invite Longbottom to visit in the summer, but he wasn't sure if that was wise. He heard him sinking down on the ground with a thump.
"You know..." he hesitated for a moment. "I wanted to thank you."
"There's no need-" Draco began.
"No, really. You saved me from making a mess in potions so many times, and I- I think I'm not as scared of it anymore."
"And in record time, it only took most of the year." Draco wasn't sure why he had to be rude in the middle of a heartfelt conversation. Sometimes he wondered if he just hated genuine kindness from anyone but his parents.
"That's true." Longbottom deflated a little. "I don't... I don't want to disappoint my family, so I need to do well in all subjects."
Draco found that he could imagine the feeling of pressure to keep to his family's standard, but except life or death situations during the war, he was rarely aware of not meeting his parent's expectations.
He supposed Longbottom did struggle a lot with school, despite putting in some effort, so their situations were as different as night and day.
"You'll pass, it's easier than you think." Draco tried to sound reassuring.
They settled into a comfortable silence for a while, watching crowns of trees sway in the wind and clouds slowly morph into bizarre shapes.
"Thanks for the notes, too." Longbottom half-whispered.
"...You're welcome." Draco felt himself preen at his efforts getting some recognition. He decided that he wouldn't mind helping Longbottom out next year, too.