Hullo everyone! This is my new story-my first multi-chapter on here! Yay! This one a few little snippets from a Year Seven Dramione relationship. No real plot or adventure or anything :D Hope you like it anyway! DH Compliant. Post-War. This story includes magic love potions, Aberforth Dumbledore, pensives and giant squids, guessing games, secret relationships and much more!
Hours after the battle ended, while Harry was safely sleeping in Gryffindor Tower, Hermione was wandering the halls, yearning to be alone. She passed piles of rubble and broken statues, remnants of her beloved castle; she tried not to think about how the only place in the Wizarding world she could call home was a home no longer. The minute she was fighting for her life between the ancient walls, something changed in her. She doubted she could ever feel safe in the castle again. Hermione was on edge, careful to watch out for undesirables roaming the halls. But there were none. They really had won, and Hermione couldn't even grasp the fact. After years of fighting and months on the run, how could it really be over?
It was slight rustling and a faint moan that caught Hermione's attention and snapped her out of her whirling thoughts. She turned to the noise, expecting to find someone following her down the hallway, but was met with a pair of feet hanging out from under a particularly large pile of debris. It was a wonder that whoever it was that lay under there was still alive.
The figure whimpered once more and Hermione jumped into action without worry if it was friend or foe. Whoever was trapped inside would be in no place to harm her after she got them out. She levitated all the most mammoth blocks off that she could without hurting the poor individual and placed them farther down the corridor. From the placing of the stone, it almost looked like it wasn't an accident that the rubble had plunged down upon the victim. From the dust that was still settling around the site, the shards looked fresh as well. Hermione wondered why she hadn't heard the falling stones. At the lessening of the weight on their body, Hermione saw the legs relax and faint whisper of thanks come up out of the last thin layer of wreckage that still lay on top of them.
Hermione used her hands to rid the person of the last few stones, not wanting her shaking wand arm to go awry and have a large stone fall on the already severely injured person. The more blocks she removed, the more familiar the man was to her. He, as she could tell now, was wearing all black and had expensive shoes on his feet. As she started removing the obstructions from about his face, she knew before she was done that it was the one-and-only teenage Death Eater Draco Malfoy. She had seen the way he and his parents had walked away and then huddled in the Great Hall, and she almost felt bad for Malfoy and his mother. Lucius Malfoy, the sodding git, could get ostracised and gaoled as much as possible for all she cared, she knew he deserved it, but something led her to believe that that maybe the rest of the Malfoy family wasn't all bad in the end. Wide of the mark and totally and completely misguided, but perhaps just that.
He was unconscious when she finally uncovered him fully, and she did not hesitate a second to conjure up a stretcher and levitate him to the Great Hall to be treated. Imagine how melodramatic it would be to have lived through the Second Wizarding War and Voldemort living in your own house and then keeling over because you were crushed by some rocks. If not for the spark of something Hermione felt in her at the sight of the prattish boy, she decided to help Malfoy just to prevent his family from more mock and scorn. To her, nobody deserved that.
A trio of strangled cries of relief accompanied her entrance to the Great Hall, both by Ron and a newly awakened Harry and a near hysterical Narcissa Malfoy. Apparently she hadn't been the only one to run off unnoticed and roam the corridors to see the aftermath.
She gently lowered Malfoy down on one of the tables and watched as Narcissa Malfoy collapsed on her son's chest. Madam Wainscott, a nurse helping Madam Pomfrey came and pushed her off, not unkindly, so that she could heal her son.
The mother immediately hopped up and turned to Hermione and enveloped her in a fierce hug, pulling away before she could reciprocate. While Hermione was surprised beyond belief that the regal woman could loose such iron composure as to embrace a muggleborn, Harry was not surprised. The Chosen One came up behind Hermione wearing a smug smile and murmured to her as he led her away by the elbow. "You know, anybody whose Mum can be so frantic about a momentary disappearance can't be all that bad," Hermione stared at him warily, astonished that he could let go of such a heated rivalry in such a short period of time. He simply shrugged and muttered something about Malfoy not giving them away at the Manor and moved to go out of the Great Hall.
Hermione shifted to follow him, but not before snatching Ron by the sleeve; who, curiously enough, was looking at the pair of Malfoys like he had never truly looked at them before. Maybe a change of heart was due for all them concerning the pompous pureblood family. And maybe the War had done just that, made them all grow up and let go of the past, if only because the present was too important or terrible to look away from. Right before she left the Great Hall, she turned to look out over all the people inside. Her last harrowing sight before she stumbled out once more was the back of George as he covered up the profile of his other half with a starched, pure white sheet.
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Stay classy!
-Beanka