The Apology

House Elves

When Draco turned and walked to the tea table, Hermione could see herself hexing him. It would be so easy. All she had to do was raise her wand and whisper 'Confundo'. She could then get Draco to lead her out of the mansion, where she could then disapparate to Ron.

But she didn't.

It could have been that Hermione had made a deal with him. And she liked to keep her word. Or it could have been that Draco wasn't facing her. He was bent over the tea table preparing two cups. He was oblivious to her power- or he simply trusted her not to attack him.

Draco trust her?

She would have to give him the benefit of the doubt and also trust him. Trust Draco Malfoy. Her stomach turned and she wrinkled her nose at the thought of her trusting him.

"You do like tea?" Draco asked. He was now facing her, holding two steaming saucers in each hand.

Hermione realized she was still furrowing her nose as if she smelled something bad in the air. She quickly erased the expression from her face. "Yes, of course."

"Would you like to sit?" Draco nodded to the chairs.

Hermione nodded curtly back and walked stiffly to one of the Slytheran green arm chairs. She slowly sunk down in the seat, perching on the edge, ready to fly at a moments notice.

"Here's your tea." Draco handed her one of the saucers. Neither met the other's eyes.

Hermione was confused. She could not figure out Draco's act. She wanted him to break his facade and tell the truth. To become the sneering, insincere, manipulative, pompous Draco he usually was.

Draco sat on the chair opposite her, not making a sound. He did not touch his tea, neither did she. They both sat staring at the ground in silence.

Hermione got an idea. She would make him angry; that would break his act. "I'm surprised you even know how to fix a cup of tea."

Draco looked up and opened his mouth to respond, but Hermione cut him off, "Being suckled by poor house elves since birth must have made it hard to learn simple chores like making tea."

"I-," Draco started.

"Of course it did develop other more worthy skills. Like, for instance, giving orders or laziness or the skill of complete domination over another creature!"

They both glared at each other.

Draco spoke angrily, "I was raised exceptionally spoiled. I know."

Hermione sniffed indigently.

"But," Draco continued, "I didn't dominate over our house elves like you suggest."

Hermione raised her eyebrows in mock belief. Draco set his teacup on the small table next to him and reached behind himself. He was not wearing the Candy Shop apron anymore. Between the Candy Shop and coming here he must have ditched the apron. Just the baggy sweater and jeans adorned him. He pulled out a button from his back pocket. It wasn't a button; it was a badge. He handed it to her.

"I found it in our fourth year. You dropped it on the way out of your charms class. It took me awhile to figure out what it stood for," Draco explained.

It was a S.P.E.W. badge: Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare. She had created the society after seeing the cruelty Mr. Crouch had shown to Winky, his house elf. Hermione was stunned.

"I'd like to think I've been a member since I found it. But I was officially accepted after the the Dark Lord was destroyed. When I came home and freed all of them-the elves- if they wanted to go."

Hermione fingered the badge carefully. She had put many hours into making the badges for her group which had never became successful. She smiled at the thought of all the wasted time knitting hats for the elves. All the elves felt insulted at her attempts to free them. Dobby had taken all of hats. She remembered her disdain when she heard he, Dobby, was doing all the cleaning in Gryffindor House because of Hermione's knitted gifts: hidden in places where the elves were sure to find them. She had wanted to force their freedom when they didn't want it.

"Did they all leave?"

"Yes. I don't blame them for wanting to leave this place; I wish sometimes I could also," Draco sighed bitterly. He took his tea and sipped it trying to hide his emotions.

Draco put his saucer down carefully. He sat forward, clasped his hands in an almost pleading way and took a deep breath, "Hermione, I was an awful kid. I admit it! I was cruel and evil to them all-the elves. I was mostly horrible to Dobby... I know now that life is precious- in any form. It has to be protected and cherished... There isn't anything I wouldn't do for him. I want to make things right. If I only knew where to find him-."

"Dobby died by Bellatrix's knife," Hermione stated.

Draco went ridged in his chair. He closed his eyes and massaged his temples. Hermione watched him closely. His breathing was slow and controlled.

"Bellatrix," He hissed, "You threw your knife-ugh!" He sat back in chair looking up to the ceiling, as if speaking to the evil witch herself, clinching and unclinching his fists.

Draco sat forward, his elbows on his knees. His legs bouncing with energy, "I hated her! She would murder anyone without a thought! What was life to her? Nothing! What did Dobby ever do to her!? Nothing! She had to have her knife with her! I'm sorry Dobby. I truly hated her! Now he's-he's-".

Draco stopped. His anger and energy burned out to sadness and he collapsed back in his chair. He ran his hand through his blond hair. "Dead," He murmured softly.

Draco stared at the ceiling for awhile and then stood. He spoke calmly, not meeting Hermione's eyes, "Excuse me Granger."

And then he walked quickly out the door.

Hermione was left sitting on the green upholster chair clutching a teacup in one hand and the S.P.E.W.badge in another. Her mind racing with the new Draco Malfoy she was meeting.