Chapter 1
First year:
"You're Hermione Granger, aren't you?"
"Yes, and you are?"
"I'm Draco Malfoy, and I have to say, I was quite impressed in that potions class. You practically knew all the answers."
11 year-old Hermione blushed a bit at that. "Well, I was very excited before school started so I did my research."
"Most of the kids here are really stupid," young Draco said with a haughty expression. "I know, most of them hardly even know the difference between the Dark Arts and Defense Against the Dark Arts."
The two children giggled and gave each other knowing smiles.
ooooooooooo
"Hermione, why would you be friends with those two dim-witted idiots?"
"Draco, don't call them that," Hermione said wearily. "Besides, they saved my life."
"Well, they're both just looking for attention."
Hermione recognized a ting of jealousy in his voice and said: "Don't worry, they'd never replace you."
"I never thought they would," Draco said snobbishly with a hint of relief.
Second year:
"Hermione, I have to ask you something," Draco said. It was the afternoon after the first day of classes, and they were seated in the library, doing their homework. "What is is?" Hermione asked absent-mindly, thumbing through her potions book. "Are you a Mudblood?"
"What?" Hermione asked, suddenly not at all concerned by her potions homework. "W-well, I was telling my father about you, you know, how we're friends and everything," Draco stammered nervously. "And he said something about you being a Mudblood, you know, a muggle-born."
"Well, I'm certainly a muggle-born, but not a Mudblood," Hermione said furiously. "My father doesn't approve of muggle-borns," Draco said. "And what do you think?" Hermione asked him. "Well, I don't really approve of them either, but you're my friend so I don't mind."
Hermione, satisfied with his answer, said: "Well, there's nothing to not approve."
ooooooooooo
"Draco, can't you at least try to be nicer?" Hermione asked. "No, I cannot. Potter is such an attention-seeking prat."
"Yeah well, your friends aren't that great either," Hermione said angrily. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly that. They're mean and selfish."
"Your friends are dumb and arrogant."
Hermione gave an annoyed huff, gathered her books, and left.
ooooooooooo
Hermione and Ron were walking toward the Quidditch pitch, in a heated argument about the importance of History of Magic, when they spotted a crowd of green robes in the Quidditch pitch. "What are the Slytherins doing there? I though Gryffindor was practicing right now," Ron said. They hurried to the Quidditch pitch. "What's happening?" Ron asked when they got there. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?" he indicated at Draco. "I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," Draco said, sneaking a look at Hermione. They hadn't talked since the fight that had taken place in the library. "Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives, I expect a museum would bid for them." Hermione boiled up with rage as the Slytherin team doubled up with laughter.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," she said sharply. "They got in on pure talent." She noticed with satisfaction the look of hurt that passed on Draco's face. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat. He regretted the words the second they flew out of his mouth. The look of shock and hurt on Hermione's face was painful to see. But then it turned to sheer anger. A second passed and then chaos corrupted. But the only thing visible to Draco was the way Hermione was staring at him, as if the was shocked she was ever his friend.
Fourth year:
"Umm… Hermione, can we talk?"
"What is it, Draco?" Hermione asked with annoyance. They had been in quite a fall out since that day in second year. Hermione refused to talk to Draco and after awhile, he felt to proud to try anymore and stopped asking for forgiveness. "I know I was an idiot that day, and I regret what I said." It was hard for him to even get that out. Hermione studied him. He had changed a lot since second year, grown taller and became a lot more good-looking. She knew how hard it was for him to apologize. "Fine, I accept your apology, but only if you promise never to call me that again."
After that, it took them some time to warm up to each other, but they were back to being friends and were both glad to finally be talking to each other again.
Sixth year (The day Dumbledore dies):
Hermione was walking to the Great Hall for dinner. That corridors were empty and silent. She had been caught up in her homework and hadn't noticed the time until she had suddenly realized the common room was empty. Harry had gone to one of his meetings with Dumbledore and Ron had gone out to practice Quidditch and was probably waiting for her in the Gryffindor table. She was busy imagining to herself what dinner would be served today (she was hoping roasted beef), when she saw a tall figure walking quickly towards the boy's bathroom. As a prefect fulfilling her duty, she followed the figure and stopped outside the doors to the bathroom. She could just hardly see the figure walk up to the sink. He looked in the mirror and Hermione gasped. It was Draco. And he was… wait was he? Oh no, she thought, realizing he was crying. She didn't know what to do. They weren't that great friends anymore. Everything had changed in fifth year, when Draco realized Hermione was keeping secrets from him. Hermione didn't want to, but she couldn't tell him about the DA. She had tried to explain to him that it was something important but he wouldn't listen. He was hurt. After they slowly fell apart, Draco had had a rough time. Hermione didn't seem to miss him at all, but he missed her terribly. He felt more alone then ever. Then, there was another, more terrible thing on his mind, and it was beginning to feel like his life was falling apart. Hermione made up her mind. "Draco?" she said softly. Draco looked up and in the reflection of the mirror he saw Hermione, standing by the doorframe to the bathroom. His heart fluttered when he saw her, and for a moment he forgot all his pain. But just like it left, it all came flooding back. "Go away," he said turning his back to her. She made no visible attempt to leave. "Go away," he said with more force, tears streaming down his face. It hurt Hermione to see him like this. She wanted to help him. Draco didn't know it, but she missed him too. He might not have been the perfect friend, but he made her laugh, and he was the only person that came even close to being as smart as her. She took a step closer. "Draco, tell me what's wrong," she said, barely over a whisper. As much as he hated her for breaking up their friendship, he really needed someone to confide in, and he knew none of his Slytherin friends would understand as she would. Hermione, taking his silence as a sign of surrender, came to stand beside him. "Please," she said, her eyes pleading. Draco took a deep breath. He had no idea how Hermione would react to this. He slowly rolled up the sleeve of his left arm. Hermione let out a gasp. There, tattooed a bit above his wrist, was the dark mark. She slowly backed away, terrified. "Draco?" she whispered, her eyes gleaming with tears. "I didn't want to," he said quietly. "He's threatening to kill my whole family."
Hermione was horrified. This was her friend, maybe even her best friend. "Hermione, listen," he started. "I don't support him, I really don't. He's forcing me." His voice became desperate. "You don't know what it's like until he's pointing a wand at your throat. It-" He broke down, small sobs emerging from his lips. She came back and put her arm around him. It broke her to see her normally confident friend in such a state. When he was calm enough to speak he said: "You can't tell anyone about this." Hermione remained silent, looking into his grey eyes. "Hermione, please. He'll kill me. Please." Silent tears were trickling down his face. A small tear fell from her eye and fell down her cheek. "Please." She nodded. They stood, silently staring at each other. Draco leaned in and placed a delicate kiss on her lips. Her eyes fluttered close. It was a small kiss, short and gentle, and it took her breath away. Draco drew back, looking deep into her eyes. Without saying another word, she walked away, slowly, her eyes never leaving his.
Eighth year:
Is when our story begins…
