"So I heard through the proverbial grapevine, that you, Granger, believe in fate." Draco Malfoy mused, sliding into the seat opposite her at the Ministry cafeteria.
It had been seven years since the Second Wizarding War, and the light side had won. Harry Potter had defeated Voldemort and most of the Death Eaters had been sent to Azkaban and some of them were still on the run. Truth be told, it had all been very anticlimactic, now that Hermione looked back on those times.
One thing that was definitely not anticlimactic was Draco Malfoy changing sides.
Sixth Year when he'd been made a Death Eater was when Draco Malfoy realized that he didn't believe in any of the blood-purist rubbish that he was being fed. So, he turned, to the one person who would listen to him, though not for the sake of believing him, of course, of course, because he'd bullied him and harassed this person for the majority of his life, but because, it seemed that only said person seemed to be paying any attention to him, which frankly, was very annoying, but also, beneficial, for him.
Harry Potter. That was the guy Draco Malfoy turned to. Potter had seemed shocked: which of course was a given, but to his credit, had not laughed in his face. He'd also been very sceptical, as had everyone, which also was a given, considering he was Draco Malfoy. That last name along with his frigidly-approachable personality bought a lot of scepticism along with it, it did.
But things had worked out, and Draco and Harry were friends now, which of course sounded really weird. He'd also managed to garner Ronald Weasley's gratitude, after saving one of the twin's lives, he for the love of merlin couldn't remember which one, and suffice to say, he was officially approved of by the Golden Trio- well, not exactly, no.
He had yet to earn Granger's approval, who considering it had been seven years since the War, had not yet exactly warmed upto him, and probably wouldn't anytime soon.
Oh well. At least she wasn't actively hexing him every moment she saw him.
"Said proverbial grapevine being Harry, of course." she grumbled, not taking her eyes off of some book she was buried in.
"Of course. But, tell me Granger, what is, a bookworm, know-it-all, logical, Gryffindor like you doing, believing in fate, of all superstitions?"
"Why do you care, Malfoy?"
"Don't really care. I'm just...intrigued, to say the least."
She sighed, "You're not going to let go of this till I tell you, are you?" he shook his head languidly, sporting that annoying-yes definitely not attractive- smirk of his.
She clasped her hands gingerly around her book, shutting it.
"I just do, I guess. It gave me something to believe in during the War. I mean, people were dying and going missing, and nobody knew what they were doing or what they were supposed to, and i wanted to make sense of all that...abstractness, I needed to, i guess. Hence, the belief in Fate."
"Wow. You are something else, Hermione Granger."
She blushed. He decided that red was indeed a good colour on her. She decided that fate indeed had something to do with Draco Malfoy sitting at her lunch table that day.
"So, Granger-" a column of granite exploded somewhere to the right and both of them scrambled to the left, ducking under a-something. "You still believe that it was fate that's got you stuck in an ex- not really ex-Death Eater's lair?"
"You're-duck!- stuck with me, and yes, i believe that it did!" she signalled him to quiet down for a minute, and scrambled over to a barely-hanging-there pillar to his right before looking back at him, and motioning him to go after her.
He shook his head. No, what she was planning was too risky.
She wanted to make herself the prime target, since most of their spells were directed towards her, her being a muggleborn, The muggleborn and all, so that he could take direct hits at them.
Draco tucked and rolled over to where she was, narrowly missing a jet of green.
Hermione pulled him behind the pillar, desperately hoping that it would not collapse right now.
"You Idiot!" she furiously whispered, "are you trying to get yourself killed?! I had a perfect pl-"
"Your perfect plan and blinding faith in fate is going to get you killed, Granger."
"Stop it with the fate thing. And my plan is completely sound, and besides, there's nothing else we can do right now."
"We need to escape Granger. We don't know how many there are, but they are definitely more than us. We need a 'retreat' plan, not an 'attack' one."
"Bollocks. We can take on them. I say there are not more than five."
"Still three more than us. Stop thinking like a fucking Gryffindor for once, damnit!"
"Well, maybe your snake-like tendencies are the reason we can't take on them. Pulling your punches like the cowardice Slytherin represents."
Ouch. That must've hurt she thought, already regretting her words. Before she could take them back however, Draco sweeped into the clearing in the middle of the decript-half-destroyed living room and started to fire spells left, right, centre, not missing a mark.
Hermione rushed in to cover him, though she was probably not doing a good job at it, considering there were-as she realized now- much, much more than five people.
"Coward, or pragmatic, Granger take your pick!" he yelled, shielding her from a wild shot from above.
"Protego Maximus!" she shouted creating a massive bubble around them, hoping it would keep from shattering.
Unfortunately, five-scratch-that-undetermined- number of people against Hermione and Draco was definitely not good odds. Well, at least she was going down fighting.
And she had one thing to do, before, whatever was going to happen after the shield broke.
"I'm sorry Draco!" she shouted, over the din off spells richocheting against the shield, "I'm sorry I called you a coward when you're the farthest from it! You were right!"
"At least I can fuck die knowing that I was finally right, and you were wrong!" he shouted from the other side of the bubble looking for any opening to fire.
"Let me finish! There's just one more thing I wanted to tell you! I believe in fate, because of you!"
"What?!" he shouted, spinning around to face her, suddenly umindful of the din and the potential threat of their imminent death hanging over their heads.
"I said-"
"Yeah, I heard it! But why?!"
"Cause, I always hoped that you weren't the Draco Malfoy that bullied me all throughout school. I hoped that you would change. Grow up and realize, that all that blood-purity shite meant nothing. And I was right! So, Draco Malfoy, if we survive this, which we most probably are not going to, and if fate wills it, will you go out with me?"
"Seriously Granger? Seriously? WE'RE ABOUT TO FUCKING DIE AND YOU ASK ME WHETHER I'LL GO OUT WITH YOU?"
"YES?! WILL YOU?!"
The shield broke.
Hermione rolled to a corner of the room while Draco shifted to another. They both nodded to each other and aimed directly at the door where most of the hexes were coming from. Unfortunately, they failed to notice, one sole attacker emerge from behind a tattered headboard taking aim at Hermione.
He fired, and didn't miss.
"Ahhhhh!" Hermione clutched at her side, stumbling into Draco.
"Hermione!" Draco caught hold of her, pulling her close as her side started bleeding.
He fired at the attacker and managed to snag him, "We're getting out of this alive alright?! I need to take you on that date! Keep your eyes open, love, please."
"Well, fate willed it that we go on that date, nothing's going to stop us." she murmured almost passing out. Draco pulled her closer, looking for an escape, any escape.
He was just accepting his fate, what a funny word that, when the ceiling shattered, and scores of Aurors-fucking finally-came into the scene.
All Draco saw was white, and all he smelled was smoke and dust and gardenias and al vanilla as he passed out.
He felt like he was swimming to the surface. Like he'd remained submerged at this point for too long and something, somebody was beckoning him up.
Draco Malfoy opened his eyes, after 5 long days of being in a coma. The first thing he registered was brown curls, tickling his nose, and gardenias and al vanilla.
Hermione. She shifted her head, sighing lightly before drifting back into sleep.
Draco squinted at the white walls, and the white tiles and the white everything, when a voice spoke from somewhere in his periphery.
"She hasn't left since she got treated, you know."
"Potter?"
"Hey. Congratulations Malfoy, you've made it out alive."
"How long-"
"Five days. She was out for two, and then woke up desperately asking for you. When we told her, what state you were in, she screamed and kicked and shouted till we brought her here. She's been here ever since. Always mumbling something about fate and you promising her a date." his mischievous green eyes twinkled.
"Uh-yeah. Not your business, Potter."
"I know. But take care of her, Malfoy. She's obviously choosing fate over her brains with you. Don't make her doubt it."
"I won't."
"Glad you're back." Harry said, before walking out the door.
She woke up about an hour later, to find two grey eyes staring down at her.
"Draco?"
"Yes, love?"
She rubbed her eyes. He was awake? He was alive? "Oh my god, I thought-"
"Shush-I'm fine, Hermione. A little sore, but fine."
"You idiot", she said smacking his shoulder, then wincing apologetically when he hissed loudly, "You scared me so damn much!"
"Well, I won't from now on. Promise." she smiled, ducking her head, a little. After a minute of silence, Draco said, "Hey, Granger?"
"Mmmm?"
"You know, maybe it was fate that took us to that lair, or you would have never asked me out on that date you were talking about."
She smiled, "Maybe it was fate."
And when she kissed him finally, he decided that, yes, this was definitely fate.