Hermione was huddled in her usual compartment of the Prefect's bathroom, her claimed space since first year. She went in there to think, to read and to practice spells amongst nobody but occasionally Moaning Myrtle. Except for today, that is. Nose buried in a book that probably weighed more than she did, the door to the bathroom was thrown open noisily, disturbing her. She placed the book silently on the ground and grabbed her wand from her pocket. She stood up slowly, pressing her face against the wooden door of the stall. The water from one of the ancient sinks was running at full blast and someone was breathing heavily, making a show of splashing water everywhere. Partially because she felt bold today, and partially because she slipped on a piece of toilet paper, she stumbled out of her stall. Immediately, she froze. The intruder whirled on her. Instinctively, Hermione drew her wand.
"Malfoy?" she lowered her wand slightly. The face she came to recognize, one that was pinched with an arrogant smirk, was soft and scared. She swallowed hard and advanced toward him.
"Are you—are you alright?"
"Filthy mudblood, leave me alone!" Draco was screaming at her now. She held her ground, staring at him. He gave up and left her to stand there. He dropped his head to his arms and fell to his knees.
"Is—is everything okay…?" she started toward him again, still clutching her wand. Apprehensively, she knelt beside him. He moved his eyes to look at her.
"Go back to your Weasel boyfriend." He spat at her, voice shaking. What kind of day was it when Malfoy couldn't even manage an insult?
"He's not my boyfriend," she snapped, the blood rushing to her face and turning it red, "and, I'll stay here until I'm sure you're alright."
"I'm not going to be alright, Granger! Do you know what it's like to constantly have You-Know-Who and his-his followers watching you, counting on you to do something you don't think you're capable of? Please just go away." He was sobbing greatly now, gasping for air. She fixed herself next him and touched his arm.
"Draco, look at me," did she feel bad for the boy she'd hated for six years? His face remained hidden. Becoming frustrated, she pulled his arm away from his face.
"Draco." He clenched his teeth and jerked his arm away from her. She grabbed his hand. He tensed.
"Let—Let go of me, Granger," he stuttered, but didn't struggle out of her grasp. Hermione's eyes were soft, staring into his. Draco swallowed his pride and moved next to her. She moved closer to him, still cradling his hand in hers. He rested his head on hers, jittering like the ferret he was. Hermione pulled an arm around his shoulders. The door flung open again, and Harry stood before them. Malfoy skittered away to grab his wand and scrambled to his feet.
"Hermione?"
"Ha-Harry I can explain," she sputtered, rushing to his side.
"Later," Harry hissed angrily, pushing Hermione behind him. The door swung open again, and Ron joined Harry at his side, wands raised. Hermione stood behind them helplessly trying to make apologetic eye contact with Draco.
"'Mione, where's your wand?" Ron looked curiously at her, signaling for her to join them.
"Ron, leave her," Harry ordered, pointing his wand more firmly at Draco. Ron turned around slowly, studying Hermione's terrified expression. His face turned bitter and he whirled on Malfoy.
"What did you do to her?" Ron demanded, covering the distance between them in two strides. Hermione's breath quickened.
"What? To your precious mudblood girlfriend? Nothing." Draco sneered as his eyes met Hermione's. They softened for a moment, then returned to their usual cold, hardness that was familiar to them.
"I'm not messing, Malfoy, what did you do to her?" Ron was pressing him up against the wall in rage. Draco attempted to keep his bad-boy attitude about him as he croaked,
"Oh, please, Weasley, what do you think I'm going to do to your pathetic little girlfriend?" Ron swallowed and jammed the tip of his wand into Malfoy's neck. Draco whimpered and his face faltered.
"Ron! No!" Hermione screamed, tears threatening. She regretted her words immediately. Ron spun on her, letting Malfoy fold into the ground.
"What?" Ron's face was calm again except for his eyes. He approached her swiftly. Ron was so close to her she could breathe in his familiar scent. Her lips wobbled, and she hugged Ron tightly.
"He's not worth it," she whispered. He pulled away and smiled.
"That's usually your cue to go punch him," he nudged her with his elbow.
"I—I won't. He's—not. He's not worth my violence," she fled from the room quickly, pushing past Ron and Harry. She found herself alone in the corridor, having no idea of the time, whether they were past curfew, or what just happened. She replayed the evening's events in her head. She was hugging Draco Malfoy. She was sitting on the floor of the Prefect's bathroom holding Draco Malfoy, Voldemort's newest Death Eater, in her arms. She was even holding his hand. She balanced her head on her knees and wrung her hands.
"Hermione?" Ron's voice broke her train of thought. He slid down the wall next to her, "is everything alright? You seem awfully jumpy today."
"Yes, Ronald, I'm fine, thank you. Why wouldn't I be?" her teeth were clenched tightly. This is the boy you love, Hermione, remember?
"You're not acting yourself. You're sure you're alright?" Ron moved closer to her and slipped his muscular arm around her shoulders. He nuzzled her hair with his nose. She stifled a cry, but the tears came anyway. She laid her head on Ron's shoulder, and pulled an arm around his neck. Dumbfounded, Ron cradled her gently in his arms.
"Well, this is a change," Harry spat when he exited the bathroom and noticed his two best friends. Ron's face was smug and proud, as if he'd finally won award he'd been going after for six years. Harry nodded approvingly and fell next to them. Hermione looked at him. He face was twisted with fear. After all, Harry caught her holding Draco Malfoy's head in her hands whispering to him. He nodded at her. Relieved, she leaned back into Ron's chest.
"So, Harry, what'd you do to the git?"
"I tortured him until he admitted he was working for Voldemort and then stupefied him. He won't be awake for a while," Harry assured them.
"Ha! You were right, mate, that greasy little git is working for The Dark Lord. Probably confessed his feelings for Goyle, too." Ron chuckled at the thought and played with Hermione's hair.
By the time the Trio returned to the Common Room, it was well into the middle of the night. How they weren't caught by a professor confused Hermione, they patrolled the halls now, just looking for students out of bed. Hermione tried to sleep. The next morning, just before sunrise, Harry called her out of bed.
"Hermione!" a voice hissed her name from behind her bed curtains. She tensed.
"Yes?" she stuttered a bit. How would have Draco gotten in anyway? He doesn't know the Gryffindor password.
"Come here!"
"Harry?"
"Yes?"
She threw herself from the bed and flung her arms gratefully around his neck.
"Blimey, Hermione, shut up! I'm not even supposed to be in here," He wrapped an arm around her back and set her gently back on the floor.
"I'm sorry, I thought you were Draco…" she admitted. He raised his eyebrows at her.
"That's actually exactly who I came here to talk to you about," Hermione froze again.
"I can explain, Harry, really," Hermione stopped in the middle of the corridor.
"Please, do begin, I'm really interested to hear all about this," Harry's tone was teasing. Hermione glared at him.
"I was reading. In-in the Prefect's bathroom, and Draco came in and he was upset, and he's really scared the You-Know-Who is going to kill him, and I sort of got caught up in the moment and—oh, I don't know, Harry. It just sort of happened. Please don't tell Ron." Her eyes threatened to cry again. Harry stared at her for a long moment. Then, his face broke and he began to laugh. She swatted him with her free hand.
"Promise me you won't tell Ron!" she shrieked.
"Tell me what?" a new voice silenced Harry's laughter. Hermione lowered her hand slowly and turned around to face Ron.
"Ron, I—'' Hermione started.
"Now, if we told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?" Harry saved her from the potentially awkward exchange.
"What are you talking about, mate?" Ron's eyebrows furrowed.
"Oh, fine. We were going to have surprise birthday party for you, but I suppose not anymore." Ron looked unconvinced as he crossed the corridor to Hermione and took her hand. She reluctantly placed her hand in his and they walked to the Great Hall together, a great secret just starting to bury itself beneath her bushy hair and perfect smile.
