Hermione hated him and Draco hated her.
And they were fighting again.
Professor Snape had stepped out of the classroom and Draco couldn't stop himself from making snarky comments about the golden trio again. With everything that happened this summer at the manor and all the depressing shit he has had to deal with this year in order to keep his mother safe, berating those three always made him feel better, like old times, back before the whole world went to shit.
"Can you imagine how ugly their children would be," Draco quipped aloud randomly. Of course everyone heard him. "Bushy ginger-haired children. Filthy spawn."
Blaise, the only one of his Slytherin lackeys smart enough to pass the Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL, snickered. He was a good soldier, Blaise Zabini was. So eager to please Draco. It kind of irked the blonde. In another life, the dark-skinned boy could have been an actual friend instead of the terrified lackey he was now.
Of course, Weasley whipped around immediately, closely followed by a pair of narrowed green eyes behind a pair of glasses. Predictable.
Draco smirked at the pair.
"Shut up Malfoy," Weasel hissed with a withering glare. Draco was about to roll his eyes when another voice pierced through the noise.
"Oh how I loathe you."
Draco's smirk just got bigger. It was rare to have Granger join the fight, but whenever she did, it was always better. Her jabs were more cutting, her intelligence making the banter far more enjoyable. Granger was the only one quick enough to keep up with him. He'd even go so far as to say that he liked the fact that she could throw a decent punch as well. His fascination with muggle fighting had grown tenfold since third year.
"Oh good," Draco cheered gleefully. Most probably thought his words were sarcastic, but Draco loved sparring with the muggleborn witch more than almost anything in the world. Especially when that world had become so dark. "I was hoping you'd join the fray Granger."
Hermione hadn't looked up from her essay, but Draco could see her back tense and assumed behind her wild hair, she was was clenching her jaw to keep from retorting. She always did though. Draco wasn't worried.
"Ah come on Granger. I just made fun of your nonexistent children with the Weasel here," Draco taunted, leaning back in his chair with a pompous grin. "I mean, they would be bloody ugly…" He waited a couple seconds, but she didn't turn around. So Draco tried a slightly different tactic. "Oh, well perhaps you don't plan to end up with Weasley then, is that it? Perhaps you have eyes for Potter instead. That might be worse, now that I think about it. The mess of hair that kid would have— he'd be laughed out of England."
"Is that all you can say," Hermione asked finally turning around, with a glint of hostility in her brown eyes. "I get it. My hair is ridiculous. My best friends are both boys so of course I must fancy one of them right? I have large teeth, I study too much, my blood is filthy. Just call me a mudblood so I can get back to work."
Draco flinched slightly at the slur, but no one seemed to notice. He hadn't called anyone that in a year unless he absolutely needed to in order to throw off suspicion that his ideals had changed. The truth was, he no longer understood the whole blood purity thing. He hadn't understood for a while now.
"Glad you can make fun of yourself, Granger," Draco said before anyone could notice his silence. "Makes my life easier."
Then, with a flick of his wand, Hermione's ink bottle tipped over and covered her essay in black.
She was in his face in milliseconds, the tip of her wand an inch from his throat. Draco kept his face expressionless as he stood up to his full height and walked around the desk he shared with Blaise. Hermione backed off slightly as he approached until her legs hit the edge of her own desk, her wand still held steadily, but now aimed at his chest. Draco smirked down at the offending wand and took another step closer until the tip was brushed up against his rib cage right in front of his heart.
Draco was exhausted and at that moment would welcome death if this woman that he loved to hate could muster the depravity to actually utter the killing curse… and mean it. The Dark Lord could find another to do his bidding and Draco would be free. Dead. But free.
With their proximity so close, Hermione had to arch her neck in order to look into Draco's eyes. He would have usually found his obvious superiority and dominance in this situation to be desirable, but now all he could think about was dying. It would be easy.
Draco looked into Hermione's eyes, cold silver into deep amber before finally breaking the silence that settled over the classroom. "I hate you Granger."
She practically snarled at him. "I know, but I hate you more."
***Three years later***
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Proteg—"
But it was too late. His wife crumpled to the ground beside him and he might as well have died with her. Despite the chaos happening around him, Draco Malfoy heard none of it. He couldn't see, he couldn't feel. It was as if he ceased to exist.
He wasn't real without her. Hermione Granger made him who he was. Without Hermione, he was nothing. He couldn't live without her, he couldn't survive without her, he couldn't breathe or move without her. He was numb. He was empty. He would never smile again.
He didn't know how long he stood there staring unseeingly at his wife's body before his legs gave out and he crumpled just as she had. His wand fell from his limp fingers and he watched it tumble to the stone floor of the DADA classroom a few inches from Hermione's head, her wild hair fanning around her face like an angel. His angel.
Draco blinked and suddenly the roar of the battle came back to him and he was dimly aware of the vile man who just murdered the love his life giving a speech. Draco sneered up at him.
"… filthy mudblood! How dare you soil the family name with that animal! I should murder you as well for disrespecting your lineage! That mudblood is nothing but a—"
"Do it," Draco muttered, turning back to the witch below him and the wand limp in her hands.
"Excuse me?"
Draco cocked his head as if by changing his perspective on the wand, everything else around him would change as well. It should have worked. It should have worked. It should have worked.
Why didn't it work?
"I said, do it," Draco quietly demanded, finally tearing his eyes away from the wand. He looked up into the cool gray eyes of Lucius Malfoy.
When he was younger Draco always admired the man, and he loved how similar they were in appearance and temperament. Now he hated it. He hated that they both had the same white blonde hair. He hated that they both had the same pale skin. He hated that they both had the same silver eyes.
But they didn't. Granger loved his silver eyes, because when they were focused on her they were warm and loving. Lucius's only ever showed disdain. His eyes were different. He was different.
"Do what?!" The question came out of the elder Malfoy's mouth like a hostile snarl, but Draco didn't even blink. He was too far gone. He just wanted to be completely gone.
"Kill me."
Lucius blinked. "HOW DARE YOU!" The exclamation was biting and the other death eaters in the vicinity stopped their assault on what remained of the Order of the Phoenix to look at the father and son in the middle of the room.
Draco didn't have to look around to know that all of the people who were on his side were already dead or nearly so. He was the only one left unscathed. He momentarily felt a pang of regret for getting them all into this, but he pushed it away quickly. Each of his former classmates knew this was going to be a suicide mission going in. Draco just wished their plan had worked. Their sacrifice was now for nothing.
Lucius was positively shaking with anger and all the wands in the room were pointed at Draco. He still did not flinch. "You will take that back," Lucius growled. "It will take time, but eventually He will forgive you for your lack of judgement when it came to the mudblood—"
The soft sounds of chuckling halted Lucius mid-sentence and Draco vaguely recognized the laughter as his own. He probably looked deranged, laughing without smiling, but maybe he was. His eyes flickered back over to the still body of his wife and he reached out to touch her for the first time, delicately brushing a loose hair from her forehead and adding it the rest of her halo. He couldn't stand having her lay on the cold floor and hastened to pick her up and settle her into his lap, staring down at the lifeless face of the only person he ever truly loved. He gathered her to his chest and hugged her tightly as if bringing their hearts close together would permit him to give her half of his, so she might breathe once again. Half of his heart belonged to her anyway.
"You are a fool," Draco stated, his eyes focused on Hermione but everyone in the room knew he was talking to his father. "Voldemort does not forgive." Draco didn't miss the way everyone flinched at the name, but he continued as if it didn't matter. Probably because it didn't. He would be coming now, but Draco was going to die either way, especially with what he was going to say next. "Nor would I ask him to forgive me. I haven't done anything that warrants forgiveness. All I did was love a girl and he gets no say in who I love. He get's no say in anything." He looked up at his father again, challenge in his storm cloud eyes. "So kill me Lucius, because you already did the moment you killed her."
Draco wanted to continue looking at his father, to stare death in the face, and show no cowardice, but he didn't want the last thing he saw to be Lucius Malfoy. So he gathered Hermione's head and stared at her eternally sleeping face, leaning in gently and placing a chaste kiss on her cold lips. "I hate you Granger," he whispered only loud enough for her to hear even though he knew she wasn't alive to do so.
He clenched his eyes shut and pictured her smiling face, the light pink of her lips, her teeth white and straight casually biting her bottom lip as she looked up at him. Her amber eyes were wide and full of mirth, framed delicately by dark eyelashes. There was a slight crease in her forehead as she desperately tried to hold back laughter at something he just said.
He breathed deeply, trying to hold back a sob. He could hear the start of the killing curse somewhere behind him and he wrapped Hermione tighter to his chest
"Avada Ke—"
And then there was nothing. Silence.
Harry watched unblinkingly as the presumed death eater stalked up to his best friend, towering over her and full of arrogance. Harry itched to intervene, but knew Hermione wouldn't appreciate it. She could take care of herself. She had many times before.
There was a short silence before it was interrupted by Malfoy's sharp aristocratic voice. "I hate you, Granger."
For what it's worth, Hermione didn't even blink. She just growled out a simple, "I know, but I hate you more."
And because he hadn't been able to look away, Harry watched as his worst enemy and his best friend disappeared from view. The bespectacled wizard gaped openmouthed at the spot where Malfoy and Hermione had just been and a hush settled over the classroom. No one moved. No one spoke. No one even breathed.
And then, they returned, Malfoy holding Hermione in his arms, squeezing her tightly at his place upon the ground. She looked limp in his arms and everyone in the classroom gasped at once.
His face felt warm and he could see the light through his eyelids begging him to open them. There was an awkward silence as if the entire world decided to hold their breath at the same time, the distant sound of birds happily chirping the only noise that made it's way to Draco's ears.
His arms felt tense as if he had been gripping something tightly for hours. Whatever he held was small and soft and comforting, but Draco couldn't help but feel as if he should be sad. He felt a single tear roll down his cheek, warm but completely uninvited. He clenched his teeth in irritation, before he finally blinked open his eyes.
And he wished he hadn't. He stared at the immovable face of his wife. "Hermione," he exhaled and he finally let the sobs take over. He rocked her carefully in his arms unable to stop the tears from streaming down his face. Only when he heard an uncomfortable cough to his right did he freeze in his tracks, sobering up quickly.
Where was he?
Draco blinked owlishly at the faces surrounding him. They all wore Hogwarts uniforms, looks of shock on their faces. He recognized a few vaguely, before his eyes settled on a familiar head of unruly black hair. "Harry," he gasped.
It worked. It fucking worked.
He snapped his head back to the woman in his arms and he realized that she was also young, clad in black robes with a red and gold scarf around her neck. "You did it!" The triumphant exclamation permeated the silence and if he didn't have the sleeping witch in his arms he would have leapt to his feet. Draco ignored all the blatant staring from his former classmates and couldn't keep a grimace from his face when Hermione hadn't budged. "Did you hear me, love," Draco whimpered, nudging her gently pleading for her to wake. "You succeeded. You are the most brilliant witch in the whole bloody world. Hermione!" Her name came out as a choked cry.
"Mr. Malfoy." The easily recognizable cadence of his Godfather's voice from the staircase that lead to the professor's office only made him cry harder. He was a basket case and knew he would never hear the end of everyone's ridicule when she finally awoke, but Draco didn't care. He was too afraid she would never wake.
"Snape," he wailed. "She should be all right! That killing curse shouldn't still count! She can't die, she just can't! I don't know if I can live without her!"
"Mr. Malfoy," Snape admonished as he glided between the students until he was next to him, the billowing of his robes a simple reminder that Draco and Hermione had escaped. "What are you talking about—"
"You don't understand," Draco interrupted. "She has to be alright. She died in the future. My father hit her with an AK, but now that we are in the past, she shouldn't still be dead—" He choked on the words and refused to continue.
He looked up into his professor's eyes pleading for him to understand and Draco must have looked desperate because Snape's eyes widened with fear.
"Miss Granger," the bat asked putting a hand to her wrist as he checked for a pulse. Draco waited with baited breath, terrified for the results but glad his Godfather had decided to do this. The blonde still wouldn't let the girl go, too afraid to move. He barely registered the other two wizards who sidled up behind the professor pointing their wands at Malfoy as if they were about to hex him. Draco was too focused on Snape, waiting for any sign of relief or dread. The waiting was killing him.
And then it came. The look of disappointment behind Snape's eyes as he dropped Hermione's wrist and glanced at Draco with a look of pure horror, killed Draco all over again. The blonde convulsed wanting to throw up.
No. No. No no no no no no no!
"NO!" The cry was one of deep anguish and sorrow and anger. Draco wanted to punch everything in sight. How very muggle of him.
He pulled his wand from his own Hogwarts robes and cried a quick, "Silencio," muting his own screams of agony. He couldn't stand to hear his own voice. It sounded too sad. Too haunting.
He looked up at the perplexed faces of Harry and Ron, their wands at their sides. They seemed about ready to cry out as well. Draco couldn't blame them. She was their best friend and they had no clue about the hell she had just been through and could only guess. He focused on their faces, his throat becoming sore from his silent screams and choked back sobs. He could see the familiar doe patronus of Snape's behind the two wizards, probably sending word to Madame Pomfrey and the headmaster. The professor was ushering the other students in the classroom out and they went as if in a daze. They looked lost and Draco let out another silent, angry yell.
How was he going to do this by himself? How could he possibly explain what happened to him and Hermione with out her there to help? He couldn't do this. He was going to fail—
And then he felt it. Draco froze in place pleading with every fiber of his being that he hadn't dreamt it.
And then he felt it again. A small twitch of Hermione's body as if she was about to vomit. He quickly uttered a wordless spell to break the previous "Silencio" and whispered a quiet question. "Granger?"
He felt the eyes of Potter and Weasley on his face, but he only had eyes for her. He didn't dare breathe as he waited. He knew it was real. She was alive.
Hermione woke with a gasping breath and she shivered uncontrollably in the arms of her husband. He held her tightly and she desperately tried to stop shaking. She felt paralyzed with fear, unsure of where she was or what was going on. The only anchor that everything was real was Draco and she clung to him with every ounce of strength she had left.
Slowly the ringing in her ears ceased and she was able to make out the soothing words of her husband. "You're ok, you're ok… You're alive… You're alright… Bloody hell you're alright."
His voice sounded as if he had been yelling for hours, a bit grating but with the undeniably smooth rhythm that only Draco Malfoy could have. Hermione blinked repeatedly before her vision cleared and she stared into the warm silver depths she loved so much. "Draco," she managed, but it hurt.
"Yeah it's me, it's me."
She suddenly felt like crying because the person she loved most in the world looked positively wrecked. "What—" She faltered, but Draco seemed to know what she meant.
"You did it," he answered. "We made it back. You saved us."
"Did you doubt me," Hermione coughed out giving him a little smirk.
Draco gasped. "I promise I will never doubt you again ever." He still looked in shock and Hermione was about to ask him what was wrong when he interjected. "Say it! Say it Hermione!" He swallowed nervously. "Please."
Hermione tried to bring a palm to his tear soaked cheek, but her arms were too weak to move, so she settled for a gentle smile and a fierce look of love. "I hate you Malfoy."
Suddenly his lips were on hers and he kissed her passionately, only pulling back to whisper a heated, "I hate you more. I've always hated you and I always will. Forever," before he was back to kissing her.
She smiled into the kiss and so did he. She chuckled into his mouth and he pulled back with an amused grin. "What?"
"You're hair looks ridiculous," she giggled and was glad to hear the strength return to her voice.
"Yeah well yours is bushier than ever," Draco countered and that's when Hermione noticed the other three people in the room.
"Oh my God Harry!" Ignoring the aching muscles of her body she leapt at Harry, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. She could feel his arms wrap around her instinctually if a bit hesitantly and she pulled back slightly to look into those gorgeous green eyes. "I won't let you die this time," she blurted out and buried his face in his neck again. "I promise."
"What?!" Harry gasped but Hermione wouldn't let him go. He had been dead for a year and she would savor every second of him in her life again.
I guess the shock finally wore off for the ginger and he waved his wand in Draco's face again. "What the hell did you do to her?"
"Mr. Weasley." Snape's cold voice cut through the room like a knife. "Put the wand down."
Draco smirked at the redhead. "Merlin's beard Weasel, I missed when we were enemies. Good times."
"We still are enemies," Ron snarled, apparently choosing to ignore the demand from Snape. "Now, what the hell did you do to Hermione?!"
Draco couldn't keep the smile from his lips. Who knew he would miss the old Weasley, the one who didn't trust him, the one who Draco thought he despised with every fiber of his being. He could have fun with this. Especially considering how little magic the ginger knew compared to Draco now. Draco mastered spells that nobody here had probably ever heard of. He couldn't wait to try them out on the man he would one day call friend. He also couldn't wait to teach them to him.
The blonde sat up on his knees until he was eye level with the weasel and brought his forehead close until it butted up against the end of Ron's wand. "Do your worst. It won't be nearly as bad as the shit I've seen in the past three years, Ron."
Ron's wand hand dipped and he looked at Draco with questioning eyes. But it was Snape who asked the question. "What exactly happened, Mr. Malfoy?"
His wife finally unwrapped herself from her scarred friend and looked at everyone with the determination Draco always yearned to see. "We will explain everything as soon as we gather the Order."
Draco nodded. "It's a long story. We'd really prefer not to have to repeat it."
A/N- Guys... I wrote a one-shot. Originally this was going to be a really long, drawn out story like all my other fanfics, but I kept reading it and reading it, and everything I wanted to add just didn't quite fit the narrative. So I just decided to stop trying to figure it out and keep it as it was. I really like the premise though, so maybe one day I'll write a longer story with a similar plot. I just really needed to write some Dramione. It's my OTP and it's not like I'll be able to write this couple into Draco Sirius Black anytime soon.
Speaking of... go read Draco Sirius Black, please! At the time I'm posting this one-shot, DSB has just surpassed 100,000 views and is on it's 28th chapter. It's insane.
Title based on I Hate U, I Love U by Gnash (feat. Olivia O'Brien).