A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling. *sigh* Please Read and review if you enjoy the story! I really love feedback!
All I Need
Hermione wanted this to end. She wanted to stop hearing the screaming, seeing the blood, being told to make just one more sacrifice, and it would all be okay. By the beginning of sixth year Hermione Granger wanted someone to be honest with her, she didn't want to have to discover the truth on her own, she could damn well take it! She'd been through more than half the bloody Order by 16, attacked by Deatheaters numerous times, her parents murdered in front of her and her grandparents slaughtered too. Being uninformed had cost her her family, her world, and they still kept her in the dark. She wanted to know, to act, to be trusted. She wanted all these things, but little did she know she needed Draco Malfoy.
Draco wanted the anger to end. The never ending fire had consumed him ever since Voldemort's return in fourth year. It filled his every thought, every breath. How could his father kiss the robes of that monster? How could Lucius bow to the man who shattered any chance they had at a family, so long before he was even born? He wanted his father to see the error of his ways, or at least see what he had forced his son to become. Draco needed to break out, he needed Hermione Granger.
The Prefects and some teachers patrolled the castle at night, the bags under their eyes evidence that Hogwarts wasn't the safest place anymore. Hermione and Draco had been assigned separate patrol partners, but a few weeks into term there was a flu going around and Draco found himself without a partner. Any Prefect would have just stayed home then, gotten some sleep, but Draco, despite his anger, felt a loyalty to his school far greater than his loyalty to his fathers' pureblood morals, so he patrolled alone.
It wasn't scary, in fact Draco welcomed the darkness, but the silence made him crazy. The voices in his head screamed, his soul torn and burning with hatred and neglect. Draco understood that he had control over nothing, that he was simply a pawn, forced into a world and beliefs he didn't want, but he didn't like it. He wanted something in his life to be HIS, one decision to be made by DRACO and not those who came before him.
That same night Hermione also patrolled alone, her partner was off on a date with her boyfriend, eager for a night away from duties. That meant Hermione was also alone in the dark. This was not a new feeling, being alone in the dark. She often felt this way now, even with Harry and Ron. Harry was lost to them, contemplating his inherited task, a glaze permanently obscuring his bright green eyes. Ron wasn't really there either, he told her he loved her, that he was over Lavender, that he wanted to be with her forever. When she couldn't give him an answer right away he understood, but now his eyes were as glazed as Harry's, he would stare at her, willing her to say what he thought was obvious. He didn't listen to what she said, didn't contribute, and she could feel his patience wearing thin. What would it do to their friendship when she rejected him? She would reject him, for she could never be happy as the next Mrs. Weasley. Just because she was in the dark, a pawn, with decisions made for her didn't mean she should give up completely. Hermione determined that even if it destroyed their friendship, she would reject Ron's proposal. She needed to make her own decisions and live her own life.
Two people neared desperation, alone. Two people neared the climax of a war, alone. Two people neared the third floor corridor around midnight, alone.
They met in the seventh floor corridor. Draco saw Hermione first, the darkness making her chestnut curls turn black, contrasting with paper white skin and dark circles under her eyes. Her eyes were unfocused, her lips moving rapidly, like she was arguing with herself. In that moment, so full of disgust for his ancestors beliefs, he stepped toward her.
Hermione looked up and saw Draco Malfoy only three feet away, the moonlight turning his hair pure silver and his eyes an electric blue. His pale skin and heavy eyes were the only ones she saw this year that rivaled hers. He must be as exhausted as her. In that moment, so full of need for someone to understand, so sick of hating him, for it took so much energy to hate, she stepped toward him.
Brown eyes met storm gray and for the longest time they simply stood looking at each other. She broke the silence.
"They say birth can shape one's destiny."
Her statement didn't seem to catch him offgaurd, it seemed as though they were thinking along the exact same lines. He sighed.
"It can, if you let it."
She quickly turned away, as if embarrassed to meet his eyes. His answer was the truth, he was too tired to lie. She whirled back around, a hard glint in her eye. "I won't. Not anymore." she raised an eyebrow, "Will you?"
Her eyes held a challenge, and something sparked in him, a renewed thirst to succeed. A flash of Draco. Not Draco Malfoy son of Lucius Malfoy. Of Draco, frightened teen and seeker extraordinaire. He looked down at her and stared, hard. "I wouldn't dream of anything less for either of us."
She gave him a curt nod and strode over to the window where she stared out at the stars. Draco couldn't move. He stood, fixated at the now hardened Hermione Granger performing such an innocent act. She looked back over her shoulder and Draco saw the resolve deflate, terror haunting her features.
"What if it's too late?" She winced, not wanting to hear her own question.
He cocked his head to the side. Draco seemed to be seeing her for the first time. He reached out his hand and the backs of his fingers brushed her cheek.
"Then at least we won't be the first to go this way."
From then on she was his.
They only met in darkness. Hiding from their respective lives, the interrogation light, exploring each other in darkness.
He was witty and sarcastic by nature, but cruel only because he had to be. The Loved could lose favor, the feared could never. He was cautious with her, one wrong step and his defenses shot back up. She learned how complicated his situation was, how desperately he needed a friend. He opened up to her and listened to her. Considering her position as carefully as his own. Having him take her seriously and not being afraid to counter her opinions meant more than Hermione could say. She fell in love with his odd mix of light and dark, and related it to her own.
Draco was awed by Hermione's perceptions of this war. She was not blind to the dark, as he had always thought she would be. Her heart cringed to hear of injustice, but she was able to acknowledge that even the "light side" was a deep shade of grey. She could be as sly as he was, using what leverage she thought she had to gain the upper hand in an argument. She listened to his side of things though, and on occasion even accepted his opinion as her own. She was beautiful to him, her skin white in the moon light, deceptive shadows playing across her eyes. How could he not fall for the desperate, intelligent girl so like himself?
When he finally kissed her, after about three months of their meetings, it was by no means a fairy tale confession. She was mid-sentence when his lips met hers, the kiss bruising but tender. It was short, crammed full of a thousand words, a thousand feelings, as their meetings so often were. He broke the kiss and walked bak into the shadows.
She almost fell out the window and sat stunned, staring at the empty place across from her in disbelief.
His kiss would change history and her stare would melt an army. But those were later miracles. For now, Draco Malfoy had just kissed Hermione Granger. And she had liked it.