to fix things. Is that enough of an explanation?"
She didn't immediately answer him. "It's Goyle, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Fine, then let me out." She backed away from the door to give him room for whatever it was he was about to do.
Goyle shook his head. "No, I don't mean right now. We can't right now because they' ll realise it' s me! I' ve been instructed to bring you upstairs at a specific time. When that happens, you need to make it look like you struggled, overpowered me and then escaped. Or else it's my life on the line," he added, just in case she assumed there would be no risk for him.
He passed a narrow slab of stone through the slot in the door. It was the same type of ubiquitous limestone that made up eighty percent of the barracks and Tonk's cell. It was reasonable to assume that a similar sized chunk could have broken off from the walls of the cell.
She accepted the stone and then there was silence. He wondered if she was expecting him to pass her something else.
"What the hell is this supposed to be?"
Goyle thought it was obvious. "Your weapon. You hit me over the head with it."
"That's your plan?" she hissed.
He couldn' t believe he was being berated by the person whose life he was about to save. Were all women mental? "Can you think of a better one? In a few hours Bellatrix Lestrange is going to murder you. If you' d like to take your chances with her, then go ahead!"
"You seem like a nice enough kid. Why are you joining these people?"
"That's none of your business."
"Leave with me," she suggested. Her face was at the slot again. "I' ll make sure they grant you clemency in exchange for information. You obviously know enough about this operation to be of great value to us."
Goyle found his first smile of the day. "Oh, that will happen, just not right now."
The Auror gave him an exasperated stare. "Look, kid, this is one fucked up occupation you' ve picked for yourself. What if they work out how you' ve helped me? They'll kill you."
Well duh. He didn't reply. There was no more time. No doubt Bob would be back any minute now.
"I'll come for you later! Just be ready, ok?"
Maybe she thought his plan wasn't going to work, because she didn't thank him when he left.
It was okay. He hadn't been expecting it.
**
Hermione stood outside the Quidditch supply shed, waiting for Draco. She was leaning against the door, ankles and arms crossed, staring seriously at the grass-covered ground. She must have been deep in thought because she didn't hear him approach until he was in front of her.
She blinked up at him, squinting in the bright light.
Sunshine did wonders for her, Draco thought. She was not a creature of thunderstorms and rainy, indoor days, like him. Winter was his favourite season. There was a certain contemplativeness to it. Summer was too brash, spring too optimistic.
Her colouring was all autumn, though. That, he definitely liked.
The summer sunshine added a whiskey-gold hue to her dark hair, highlighting the more pronounced of her curls. She also had a bit more colour to her cheeks now, which was gratifying to see.
"I thought I was going to be waiting a while," she informed him, by way of her second hello for the day. She sounded disgruntled. "Harry' s finished with you, then?"
Draco took exception to the insinuation that he had only been allowed to leave when Potter said so. "We were finished, yes." He heaved the broom onto his shoulder and stared meaningfully at the door. She was blocking it.
"Was it a good discussion?" she asked him, not moving from her spot. Her tone was pleasant, but her expression was troubled.
"If by good you mean pointless." Draco reached around her to take hold of the latch and was relieved when she finally stepped aside.
She followed him inside, watching as he replaced the borrowed school broom on an empty hook. When he was done, they stared at each other in the dark and musty shed.
"Was there something else you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Something else?" she echoed. "Forgive me for being a little paranoid about whether you're going to take off for parts unknown without so much as a by your leave. I'm not stupid. I do have an idea what you might be planning. We haveI don' t know, moments, I suppose. These little snippets of