A/N: Yes, another Draco/Hermione fic. This might sound a bit like the beginning of my other story, Crimson and Clover, but there's a difference between the two: This one doesn't have Erin in it. Okay, on with the story.
Disclaimer: Let's see….I live in the hugest redneck county in the world. So do I own Harry Potter? Guess.
****
Emerald Fire
Chapter One
****
***Hermione's POV***
I sat in the one of the compartments reserved only for the Head Boys and Head Girls with Harry. The two of us had been named the Heads of Gryffindor. I had no idea who the other Heads of Houses were. That would be a secret until the other Heads told us or when Dumbledore announced us all during the feast.
Harry was sitting next to me and going on about how the first thing he was going to do when he graduated this year was turn the Dursleys into fruit bats when the compartment door slid open. Surprisingly, a tall, hooded character walked in. Harry's hand immediately reached for his wand, but he stopped when he realized the person wasn't a Dementor.
"This is the compartment for the Heads, right?" The figure asked. The voice was oddly familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. I nodded, and the figure sat down across from us, setting his feet across the other part of the sear so he took up two places instead of one. He (and I'm sure it was a 'he') set his back against the window, let his head drop down onto his chest, and he soon appeared to be asleep.
"Do you think Malfoy'll come back this year?" Harry asked me quietly.
"Why wouldn't he be?" I replied, turning to him.
"Didn't you get the new edition of the Daily Prophet?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"No, my owl didn't come back before I left to go to the station. What happened?"
"Here," Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a rolled up edition of the Daily Prophet. He handed it to me and I opened it to the front page.
MALFOY MURDER was written in bold letters on the front page. I gasped and looked at Harry.
"Keep reading," He said.
I nodded and started to read the passage below the headline.
'On July 31st, Narcissa Malfoy was found beaten to death in her manor with her son, Draco, lying beaten a few feet away from her body. Draco wouldn't tell us much about the murder, and the only information we have is the identity of the killer: Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father and Narcissa's wife. If you should ever see Lucius Malfoy, report it immediately. He should be considered dangerous.'
"Oh God," I whispered as I handed the newspaper back to Harry, "D'you think he's alright?"
"Of course he's not, his mother died right in front of him and he's probably still healing."
"Oh Christ, let it be…." The guy across from us whispered.
"What, are you friends with Malfoy or something?" Harry asked.
"No," The guy said, "I really quite hate him actually."
"Who are you anyway?" I asked him.
In response, he flicked of his hood and I gasped yet again. It was Draco Malfoy. But his face was covered with wounds and bruises and scars. But his eyes still shone with cold silver, so he couldn't have changed much.
"Your father did that?" Harry asked slowly.
"You read the paper," Draco answered in reply, looking out of the window.
"But fists can't do that," Harry said, "The scars are to thin."
"It was the staff," I said quietly.
Draco looked at me and smirked.
"Maybe you're not as dense as I thought…." He said to me.
"So I'm right?" I asked.
Draco nodded. Why am I calling him Draco? -Malfoy- nodded.
"Now let's see if you can figure out -why- he did it," He leaned his head against the glass and smirked again.
I shrugged.
"Not enough evidence," I muttered, "You'd have to tell me for me to know."
"Really?" He closed his glowing eyes again, "Well, then I guess you'll never know."
He pulled up his hood again and went back to sleep.
***Draco's POV***
They kept talking even after I pretended to go to sleep. It was funny really. My and two of my worst enemies were sharing a compartment and we weren't trying to kill each other. Well, I suppose we don't have to be enemies anymore. The only reason I hated them was because Lucius told me to hate all Gryffindors, especially Harry Potter, Muggle-Borns, and the Weasleys. So, with him gone, I really don't have to hate them anymore, do I? But then there's that whole Slytherin-Gryffindor thing I have to stay away from. But all the Slytherins hate me now. I betrayed their lord. Their King. That's why Lucius tried to kill me. Because I refused to be a Death Eater. And he's always been a violent so of course that set him off. Christ, even if I breathed to hard he hit me. I have the scars to prove it.
I heard Potter get up and go. Apparently he wanted to find Weasley. I have no idea why Granger didn't go. But he left and she stayed. As soon as the door closed she turned sideways in her seat and leaned her back against the glass like I had been doing. I looked up at her and bit back the string of insults that I had been taught to say. So instead I tried to be civil.
"Lost your boyfriend, did you?"
Curse my father.
She sighed and rubbed her forehead.
"Not now Malfoy," She groaned.
"On one condition."
"What?"
"Never call me Malfoy again."
Apparently my hate for my father surpasses his teachings.
Hermione turned her head towards me with a puzzled expression on her face.
"Yes," I said, "You heard me right. Don't call me Malfoy."
"Alright Draco. But can you do me a favor as well?"
"What?"
"Don't call me Granger, Mudblood, Dirty Blood, or any other name that reflects my parentage."
"Deal."
I extended my hand out and she shook it. We sat in silence for a while before I realized she was staring at me.
"What?" I asked when I looked over at her.
"Take off your hood," She said.
"Why?"
"Please, just do it."
I didn't understand it, but I pulled off the hood.
***Hermione's POV***
I don't know what exactly made me ask him, but I did. And he actually listened to me. So I looked at his face again. Then I got up and kneeled on the floor next to him to look at his wounds more closely. I saw him get a confused look on his face and he moved back further against the wall. That staff did it's job. The wounds were many and most of the bruises were long. The wounds looked fresh. I have no idea why he didn't wear bandages on them. But, it's his face, not mine. Something possessed me to reach up and trail my finger along one of his wounds, and I did. The skin broke again and a thin line of blood ran down his cheek. Here, he reached up and grabbed my hand, pushing me gently away. He shook his head and I went back and sat down in my seat. He pulled his hood back up and no more than four seconds later Harry and Ron came through the door. I stared at Draco's hooded face one last time before I turned to Harry and Ron and started talking about the newest prank Fred and George were going to pull.
****
A/N: Okay, now here's what you do. Click the button at the bottom of the page and tell me how you felt about the story. Please? Seriously. Please?
Disclaimer: Let's see….I live in the hugest redneck county in the world. So do I own Harry Potter? Guess.
****
Emerald Fire
Chapter One
****
***Hermione's POV***
I sat in the one of the compartments reserved only for the Head Boys and Head Girls with Harry. The two of us had been named the Heads of Gryffindor. I had no idea who the other Heads of Houses were. That would be a secret until the other Heads told us or when Dumbledore announced us all during the feast.
Harry was sitting next to me and going on about how the first thing he was going to do when he graduated this year was turn the Dursleys into fruit bats when the compartment door slid open. Surprisingly, a tall, hooded character walked in. Harry's hand immediately reached for his wand, but he stopped when he realized the person wasn't a Dementor.
"This is the compartment for the Heads, right?" The figure asked. The voice was oddly familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. I nodded, and the figure sat down across from us, setting his feet across the other part of the sear so he took up two places instead of one. He (and I'm sure it was a 'he') set his back against the window, let his head drop down onto his chest, and he soon appeared to be asleep.
"Do you think Malfoy'll come back this year?" Harry asked me quietly.
"Why wouldn't he be?" I replied, turning to him.
"Didn't you get the new edition of the Daily Prophet?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"No, my owl didn't come back before I left to go to the station. What happened?"
"Here," Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a rolled up edition of the Daily Prophet. He handed it to me and I opened it to the front page.
MALFOY MURDER was written in bold letters on the front page. I gasped and looked at Harry.
"Keep reading," He said.
I nodded and started to read the passage below the headline.
'On July 31st, Narcissa Malfoy was found beaten to death in her manor with her son, Draco, lying beaten a few feet away from her body. Draco wouldn't tell us much about the murder, and the only information we have is the identity of the killer: Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father and Narcissa's wife. If you should ever see Lucius Malfoy, report it immediately. He should be considered dangerous.'
"Oh God," I whispered as I handed the newspaper back to Harry, "D'you think he's alright?"
"Of course he's not, his mother died right in front of him and he's probably still healing."
"Oh Christ, let it be…." The guy across from us whispered.
"What, are you friends with Malfoy or something?" Harry asked.
"No," The guy said, "I really quite hate him actually."
"Who are you anyway?" I asked him.
In response, he flicked of his hood and I gasped yet again. It was Draco Malfoy. But his face was covered with wounds and bruises and scars. But his eyes still shone with cold silver, so he couldn't have changed much.
"Your father did that?" Harry asked slowly.
"You read the paper," Draco answered in reply, looking out of the window.
"But fists can't do that," Harry said, "The scars are to thin."
"It was the staff," I said quietly.
Draco looked at me and smirked.
"Maybe you're not as dense as I thought…." He said to me.
"So I'm right?" I asked.
Draco nodded. Why am I calling him Draco? -Malfoy- nodded.
"Now let's see if you can figure out -why- he did it," He leaned his head against the glass and smirked again.
I shrugged.
"Not enough evidence," I muttered, "You'd have to tell me for me to know."
"Really?" He closed his glowing eyes again, "Well, then I guess you'll never know."
He pulled up his hood again and went back to sleep.
***Draco's POV***
They kept talking even after I pretended to go to sleep. It was funny really. My and two of my worst enemies were sharing a compartment and we weren't trying to kill each other. Well, I suppose we don't have to be enemies anymore. The only reason I hated them was because Lucius told me to hate all Gryffindors, especially Harry Potter, Muggle-Borns, and the Weasleys. So, with him gone, I really don't have to hate them anymore, do I? But then there's that whole Slytherin-Gryffindor thing I have to stay away from. But all the Slytherins hate me now. I betrayed their lord. Their King. That's why Lucius tried to kill me. Because I refused to be a Death Eater. And he's always been a violent so of course that set him off. Christ, even if I breathed to hard he hit me. I have the scars to prove it.
I heard Potter get up and go. Apparently he wanted to find Weasley. I have no idea why Granger didn't go. But he left and she stayed. As soon as the door closed she turned sideways in her seat and leaned her back against the glass like I had been doing. I looked up at her and bit back the string of insults that I had been taught to say. So instead I tried to be civil.
"Lost your boyfriend, did you?"
Curse my father.
She sighed and rubbed her forehead.
"Not now Malfoy," She groaned.
"On one condition."
"What?"
"Never call me Malfoy again."
Apparently my hate for my father surpasses his teachings.
Hermione turned her head towards me with a puzzled expression on her face.
"Yes," I said, "You heard me right. Don't call me Malfoy."
"Alright Draco. But can you do me a favor as well?"
"What?"
"Don't call me Granger, Mudblood, Dirty Blood, or any other name that reflects my parentage."
"Deal."
I extended my hand out and she shook it. We sat in silence for a while before I realized she was staring at me.
"What?" I asked when I looked over at her.
"Take off your hood," She said.
"Why?"
"Please, just do it."
I didn't understand it, but I pulled off the hood.
***Hermione's POV***
I don't know what exactly made me ask him, but I did. And he actually listened to me. So I looked at his face again. Then I got up and kneeled on the floor next to him to look at his wounds more closely. I saw him get a confused look on his face and he moved back further against the wall. That staff did it's job. The wounds were many and most of the bruises were long. The wounds looked fresh. I have no idea why he didn't wear bandages on them. But, it's his face, not mine. Something possessed me to reach up and trail my finger along one of his wounds, and I did. The skin broke again and a thin line of blood ran down his cheek. Here, he reached up and grabbed my hand, pushing me gently away. He shook his head and I went back and sat down in my seat. He pulled his hood back up and no more than four seconds later Harry and Ron came through the door. I stared at Draco's hooded face one last time before I turned to Harry and Ron and started talking about the newest prank Fred and George were going to pull.
****
A/N: Okay, now here's what you do. Click the button at the bottom of the page and tell me how you felt about the story. Please? Seriously. Please?