August
The war was over. The guilty punished, monuments to the fallen built. It was time for life to start again.
Harry and Ron had decided not return to Hogwarts to complete their NEWTs ("honestly Hermione, what could they possibly teach us that we don't already know?" said Ron), so the boys travelled to London to begin Auror training.
It came as no surprise that Hermione had been appointed head girl and there was much speculation about who could have been chosen as head boy. Two days before the start of term, Hermione packed her belongings, said a fond farewell to Harry and the Weasleys and climbed into the Burrow's fireplace, luggage in one hand and floo powder in the other. It wasn't her favourite way to travel by any means, but it beat flying and she didn't trust apparating with a heavy trunk.
None of the castle's fireplaces had been connected back up to the floo network since the Battle of Hogwarts so Hermione travelled to the Three Broomsticks where a carriage was waiting for her. She leaned out of the window, keen to see again the familiar grounds and woods but as she approached the school, her heart grew heavy to see the extent of the damage and devastation caused by the death eaters and their dark lord only a few months before.
Acting headmistress, Professor McGonagall, stood at the front door, waiting to welcome Hermione and show her to her new quarters as head girl. No more Gryffindor Tower for her, she would be sharing with head boy. The small common room was comfortably furnished with a large double desk and chairs, a pair of sofas faced the open fireplace and tall windows let in the late summer sunshine. Two winding staircases led to the separate bedrooms.
With a squeak, the portrait hole swung open and she came face to face with Hogwart's new head boy.
"You!"
"Me" replied Draco. "Don't worry, Miss Granger, I have no intention of pestering you. I'll probably be spending most of my time in the library. Lots of catching up to do if I want to pass any exams"
Hermione couldn't have been more stunned. Malfoy as head boy? The war and its aftermath had changed Draco almost beyond recognition. Considerably thinner and paler, the young man who had stopped at nothing to torment and humiliate her since she was 11 was being polite. An awkward silence fell, "well" she replied shortly "I think I'll go for a wander around the castle before dinner".
The building, almost fully repaired, was eerily quiet and Hermione tried hard to block out memories of the battle which still haunted her dreams. Thankfully, Peeves provided a welcome distraction, flying out of a nearby classroom and throwing chalk fragments at the suits of armour lining the corridor, before zooming away blowing loud raspberries.
Her feet led her to the doors of the great hall, taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped inside. The room had been part mortuary, part infirmary last time she had seen it, now though the floor had been scrubbed clean and the wooden tables were polished and shining. The enchanted ceiling was a bright azure blue. Walking slowly up the aisle, a distant look in his eyes, running his fingers along a table was Draco. His whole demeanour spoke volumes, melancholy and regret; trying to recapture something lost. Hermione crept away before he could notice her.
September
The nervous first years were sorted into their houses. The Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables were crowded with noisy pupils, the Slytherin table however was a different matter. Apart from a few exceptions, most of the 6th and 7th years students had chosen not to return and those who had seemed to be trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Hermione commented on the low numbers to Professor Slughorn after a particularly tedious potions lesson. With a sad sigh he replied "ah Miss Granger, many of the Slytherins felt they might not be... welcome since recent events. I understand many of them have chosen to attend one of the many other schools of magic on the continent".
To her great surprise, Draco was a fair minded head boy, showing no favouritism. Keen to encourage the less confident pupils but enforcing strong discipline on rule breakers – especially a couple of Slytherin boys he caught mercilessly bullying a second year Ravenclaw. "It's a shame we can't just hang them in the dungeon by their ankles" sighed Hermione. Draco was silent for a moment "No, I guess not. It might send a mixed message." "Another time perhaps?" smiled Hermione brightly. They were slowly realising that they didn't dislike each other as much as they thought, and that their senses of humour were remarkably similar.
– 0 –
November
Hermione trudged wearily back to the common room, it had been a particularly exhausting detention to supervise. Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes had recently opened a branch in Hogsmeade and a rowdy group of 3rd years had come back from their first weekend in the village with their pockets stuffed full of the latest tricks. The first thing she saw on entering was Draco slumped across the double desk, snoring quietly. There were library books everywhere, on the floor, stacked on the table. He had been writing sheaves of notes before fatigue overtook him. She walked to an open window, intending to close it, when a large owl swooped in, dropped a letter on the table and flew out again. Hermione's curiosity was too much for her and she tiptoed across to see what Draco had been working on. The letter was from St Mungo's Hospital and he had been reading up on the obliviate charm and how to reverse its effects.
– 0 –
December
Christmas was approaching and with it the Yule Ball. Hermione had chosen robes in her favourite periwinkle blue and as she was preparing to leave their quarters she heard Draco stamping down the stairs, muttering about his "stupid muggle neck trap". She gently straightened his tie, gave him a nod of approval and arm in arm they walked down the wide stairs to the great hall. The hall was richly decorated in house colours, enchanted snowflakes fluttered in the air and as head boy and girl, Draco and Hermione were expected to open the ball. He was an excellent dancer and as they whirled around the room she wondered why she had never appreciated how breathtakingly handsome he was. Draco, himself, had already realised that the awkward girl he had met all those years ago had become an attractive young woman and dancing with her, looking into her eyes, made his heart race.
Unusually, Draco had decided to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays and, to keep him company, Hermione turned down an offer to spend the week with Ron at the Burrow. She was surprised to find on Christmas morning that the only presents for Draco under the tree in their common room were the ones she had bought for him (as well as a box of chocolate biscuits and the inevitable jumper from Molly Weasley, this time in emerald green). After a walk to Hogsmeade and back for butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks, stopping for a snowball fight on the way, the pair settled down on their sofas and toasted bread over the fire.
After a pause in conversation, Hermione took a deep breath and said "Draco, I don't mean to pry", "yes you do" he retorted. Ignoring him, she continued "why were you reading about reversing obliviate?". Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. Quietly, he said "your parents. I wanted to know if there was a way of retrieving their memories, so they could come home. To you". She looked away, hiding her face in her hands.
"Hermione?" Draco murmured. She shook her head, as he perched on the coffee table in front of her and gently took her hands in his, "Hermione?" he repeated. Try as she might, she couldn't stifle the sob that escaped her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her as the pain of her loneliness and regret welled up. They both felt it was a pain that only another only child could understand, even Harry wouldn't be able to fully appreciate it.
– 0 –
January
It was January by the time the quidditch stadium had been rebuilt, the first match was between evenly matched Ravenclaw and Gryffindor teams. The second match of the year was Slytherin-Hufflepuff. Only once they were back in their common room with the door firmly shut did Draco give vent to his feelings. "Honestly Hermione. Have you ever seen such an awful Slytherin team?" She judged it best not to interrupt him but after fifteen minutes enough was enough. "Well then, Mr Grumpy" she snapped "Why don't you go and do something about it. Dust off that Nimbus 2001 of yours and show the team how to play". He gave a non-committal grunt but sure enough next evening, Hermione watched from the window as he strode off towards the stadium, broomstick over his shoulder and discussing tactics animatedly with the team captain.
The winter weather went from bad to worse and beyond. If it wasn't snowing a blizzard, it was gale force winds and if it wasn't wind it was rain. Hermione had just finished checking her charms essay when the portrait hole opened and a sopping wet Draco stepped into the room. "Not. A word" he growled. "You'd be dryer if you'd taken a swim in the lake" replied Hermione, trying not to laugh "and you really should get out of those wet clothes before you catch cold". "Very well Miss Granger" said Draco in a sultry voice as he slowly stripped off his dripping jumper and began to unbutton his shirt. "Not here!" squeaked Hermione, covering her eyes with her hands, only reopening them once she was sure he had gone to his room.
Draco was not in the great hall for breakfast next morning, but it wasn't the first time and Hermione was fairly sure an obliging house elf was sending him breakfast in bed. When he was absent from their first lesson, she began to be a little more concerned and made up her mind to drop in on him on her way to the library just in case. There was no sign of him in the common room so after a moment's thought, Hermione climbed the stairs to Draco's bedroom. Hearing no reply to her knock, she peered round the door.
Draco had evidently had an unsettled night's sleep, blankets on the floor, bedsheets tangled around his feet. He was running a fever, shivering and breathing unevenly. "Wait there! I'm going to fetch help!".
She ran to the infirmary as fast as she could and tried to explain Draco's symptoms to Madam Pomfrey. The healer gave a curt nod and started pulling bottles and boxes out of her store cupboard, abruptly dismissing Hermione. "Very well, Miss Granger, you go to your lessons and leave young Mr Malfoy to me".
Hermione decided to skip lunch in order to check on Draco and was reassured to see that he was at least no worse than when she had left him. She gently brushed his hair off his face and gasped as Draco caught her wrist and looked up at her. "You set Madam Pomfrey on me" he murmured in a tone of mild reproach, "she's been fussing around here with every pill, potion and tablet known to man".
Hermione glanced down at their hands and gasped "Draco! Your arm!". His left forearm was an ugly patchwork of scars and burns where he had tried in vain to remove the dark mark etched into his skin. He tried to pull his hand away but she kept a firm grip. Sighing deeply, he said "I'd hoped it would fade, after... you know." Hermione smiled and leaned down, planting a soft kiss on the worst of the scars. "Hermione," he whispered "I'm sorry".
"What for?" she replied.
"For everything. For calling you mudblood, for taunting you. My behaviour since we met has been reprehensible".
"Draco" Hermione said, soothingly "that's a lifetime ago!"
"But it's not!" he barked "My father says the same things, acts the same way. No matter what I do, I can't get away from the fact that I'm just like him".
Hermione sat quietly for a moment. "How many people have you crucio'd? How many have you imperius'd? How many have you killed? None, to my knowledge"
"I was ordered to kill Dumbledore" "But you didn't. Did you? You see, that shows that you're nothing like your father. You have an appreciation for human life that he no longer has".
Draco didn't seem convinced but, as she left him to sleep, he looked a little more at peace with himself.
– 0 –
March
Slytherin were never going to win the quidditch cup but at least their final matches weren't as dismal as they could have been without Draco's intervention.
Gryffindor trounced their competition and a victory celebration was held in Gryffindor tower to which Hermione was of course invited. Ginny had inherited her elder brothers' talent for mischief and, ably aided by Neville and Seamus, had smuggled crates of butter beer back from the pub.
It was long after curfew when a tipsy Hermione stumbled out of the tower, crept along corridors and up staircases, dimly thankful that Peeves was elsewhere causing havoc and that most of the people in the paintings had dozed off. She tripped over at the portrait hole, and fell giggling to the floor. A very stern Draco looked up from behind his copy of the Daily Prophet.
"You have seen the time, I suppose? And just how much have you had to drink?"
Turning her nose up, Hermione huffed "I'm not nearly as drink and you thunk I am" and slumped back on to the floor. With an impatient sigh, Draco flung her over his shoulder and carried her up to her room.
"You'll regret it in the morning. That's all I'm saying"
True enough, the next day was officially a Too Much Morning. The sun streaming through her window was much too bright, the birds much too chirpy. A much too cheerful Draco rapped on her bedroom door and called a hearty hello.
Hermione could barely raise her head high enough to growl "please tell me you have an anti hangover potion on you?". He pulled a small phial out of his pocket but as she snatched for it, he took a step backwards. "No young lady. I don't think so. You need to learn your lesson" and with a smug grin, Draco turned on his heel and left – closing the door much too loudly for Hermione's liking. She was feeling marginally better by the evening when Draco returned from a full day's classes with a plate of steaming food for her. She looked so miserable that he relented and poured her a glass of pumpkin juice and added the hangover cure.
"Ugh! This tastes revolting!" "Indeed, so maybe you'll think twice about drinking your weight in beer next time".
– 0 –
April
Draco was trying to concentrate on his history of magic essay but Hermione, stretched on the sofa with a purring Crookshanks on her lap, was distracting him.
He finally threw down his quill in frustration "What is wrong? That's the 5th sigh in as many minutes".
"I'm bored" Hermione admitted "I've done all my homework, I have nothing left to read and everyone seems to be on their best behaviour so I have no detentions to oversee. I. Am. Bored".
"By my reckoning, you've had 3 owls from Ron this week. How many have you replied to?"
She sat up, crimson with embarrassment, and rummaged in her school bag for paper, quill and ink. Settling down opposite Draco, she started to write but got no further than Dear Ron. She stared at the blank sheet for minutes, trying to decide what to say. It took over an hour to write a short and not very satisfying letter to her boyfriend and she went straight to the owlery to post it before she forgot.
– 0 –
Sleep would not oblige her. Every time she shut her eyes, memories of the battle – the screams, the explosions – would surface.
She sat in the window seat of her bedroom, gazing out at the grounds bathed in the light of the full moon. She shed tears for Remus, at least now he was at peace. Her thoughts strayed to poor Lavender, the healers had fought their hardest but the damage inflicted by Fenrir Greyback was too great; every month she had to take a wolfsbane potion and curl up in the pink, fluffy dog basket by her bed in Gryffindor tower until the moon began to wane.
Shrugging with impatience, Hermione decided to fetch her Arithmancy book from the common room. If anything would send her to sleep, that would.
She padded silently down the stairs and, nearing the bottom, was surprised to hear voices. Edging closer, Hermioned realised with a shock that Draco was arguing with his father.
"My relationship with her? I'm head boy, she's head girl. End of story!"
In a voice of cold fury, Lucius Malfoy replied "I would advise you to keep it that way. If word reaches me that you are ever more than friends with the mudblood, I will disinherit you on the spot. You will have no property, no money. Nothing. And surely, you would not wish to bring disgrace on your family's name by consorting with a worthless girl that that?"
"Don't ever let me hear you call her mudblood, ever again! And worthless, you say?" Draco hissed "Let me tell you something, if tomorrow I were to ask Hermione to marry me, and if she were to accept, she would be my wife within days of us leaving Hogwarts".
"So you do love her then?" gasped Lucius in horror.
"With all my heart and soul. But fear not, father dear" Draco sneered "It is my understanding that an engagement of some kind exists between her and Ronald Weasley. You will not have to endure the shame of your pureblood son marrying a muggle born. As to your threats to cut me off without a knut to my name? Go ahead. I would rather be poor and marry Hermione than a rich and lonely coward like yourself. Now, if you have said all you have to say, kindly show yourself out."
All the arithmancy books in the world couldn't have sent her to sleep now.
– 0 –
Having turned down an invitation at Christmas, Hermione didn't feel she could really turn down one to stay at the Burrow for the spring school holidays as well.
She was also trying to sort out her confused thoughts and decided it would be best to spend time with Ron.
The holidays lasted for 2 weeks but after only 5 days, Hermione was longing to be back at Hogwarts so much it felt like a permanent stomach ache. Whereas before, any dreams of the future included Ron and herself, now her head was full of Draco. Every word he had spoken was etched in her memory.
Ron was perhaps not the most observant man, but even he could see that Hermione's mind was elsewhere.
When asked, she replied "Oh, Ron. It's just NEWTs. I have essays to finish and half the books I need are in the school library".
– 0 –
Draco had just finished reading that day's Daily Prophet from cover to cover for the fourth time and was scratching a purring Crookshanks behind the ear, counting down the days until Hermione returned.
"I'm back!" she cried, scrambling through the portrait hole and flinging herself into his arms.
"I was missing you so much, so I made up some story about needing library books"
Draco pulled away from her, a frown on his face "You made up some story? You mean you lied to your friends?"
"It's only a little white lie" admitted Hermione, uneasily.
"Hermione" began Draco, running his hands through his hair "there's no such thing as 'a little white lie'. Trust me, I know. My family thrives on lies, it feeds on suspicions and half truths and the smallest lie spirals out of control until no-one can trust anyone and..." he pinched the bridge of his nose "You have friends. Don't take their trust for granted. Ok, lecture over". He wrapped his arms around her, kissed the top of her head and said "it's good to have you back. We both missed you, didn't we Crookshanks?"
– 0 –
"I have a confession to make, Draco". Draco looked up, concern in his eyes. "Oh?"
"The night before I went to the Burrow, the night your father was here. I overheard some of your… conversation. I didn't mean to, I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd come down here to fetch a book. Did you mean it? What you said to him?"
"Every word. But you love Ron"
"Of course I love Ron" Hermione said "It's just… I'm not in love with him any more"
"What happened?" asked Draco
She replied simply "You"
– 0 –
May
Draco and Hermione had been spending less and less time with their houses and more and more with each other in the privacy of their common room.
They were curled up on their comfy sofa, Hermione's head resting on Draco's shoulder "Someone is bound to pick up on something soon – Ginny must think something's up"
"I think she knows things have tailed off with Ron, although she and Harry are pretty self involved so I'm not sure she actually notices anything else. She tends to sneak out on weekends when she thinks no-one's looking. Don't tell anyone, but I think she and Harry were… you know.. doing it… at the Burrow".
"Doing what, Miss Modesty?"
"You know! It!" Hermione whispered "sex!"
Draco looked down at her, indulgently, "and what makes you think that?"
"Creaking bed springs, and some, um, moans"
"They didn't even cast a muffliato before getting started? Amateurs!"
Logs shifted in the fireplace and Draco gently stroked Hermione's hair.
"Draco, what's it like?"
"What's what like? Sex?" he asked, amused at the blush spreading across Hermione's cheeks. "As to that, I'm afraid I cannot enlighten you".
"Ha, it's a question of discretion, is it?"
"No, my girl, I'm afraid I can't tell you anything about something of which I have no first hand experience".
Hermione was shocked "You mean, you've never? You're still a-"
"A virgin? Yes. Does it surprise you so much?"
"I just thought, you being, well, you, you'd have had..." she stammered.
"As old-fashioned as it sounds, I chose to wait and I intend to continue waiting until I am married. Of course, it hasn't stopped Pansy from trying it on at every opportunity. I think she's just biding her time, hoping I'll come round. She really can be quite intimidating."
June
It was the end of term, Draco and Hermione had both passed NEWTs with flying colours and were packing all their belongings into their now battered school trunks.
Draco spent most of his days trying to find a job and somewhere to live after leaving school. There was no question of him returning to Malfoy Manor and he didn't want to use all his savings staying at the Leaky Cauldron. "After all" he said to Hermione "I might be a grumpy old married man in a few months". "I wouldn't say that. You're not that old" she replied. She still hadn't worked out a plan of how to tell Ron.
Epilogue
While Hermione was relieved that Ron was not brokenhearted at the news of his girlfriend's transfer of affections, a few sighs and a bitter tear or two wouldn't have gone amiss.
As it was, he found ample consolation in the person of Fleur's younger sister. Gabrielle was intending to stay with Bill and Fleur for only a week or two but after extending her visit for the fourth time, Bill's patience snapped and he told his younger brother to "just get on with it already".
Draco took up a career in magical law enforcement and, although he, Harry and Ron were never the best of friends, the three of them made a formidable team in the hunting and prosecution of dark witches and wizards. Hermione was most proud of him, however, when he was acting for the defence. He combined Malfoy-ish arrogance with his superior intellect and eloquence, storming and raging before the wizengamot and many an innocent witch or wizard, pureblood or muggle born, owed their freedom to his compassionate heart and strength of purpose.
- 0 -
Despite their best efforts, Hermione's parents' memories were never restored. They were, however, seized with a sudden nostalgia for the old country and found a snug little house in a quiet London suburb next to a nice young couple. The husband was very striking, tall, with pale blond hair and steel grey eyes. There was something about his wife which was strangely familiar but nothing they could ever put their finger on. They quickly became best of friends, and many a time did the Grangers babysit their neighbours' children - their own grandchildren had they but known it.
- 0 -
They stood on platform 9¾ as the clock struck 11, waving as the scarlet steam train slowly pulled out of the station, carrying the eldest of their 4 children to Hogwarts. In the hopes of avoiding sulks from the younger ones, the boys had been promised a trip to Quality Quidditch Supplies and the little girl was looking forward to a large bowl of ice cream from Florean Fortescue and book shopping with her mother. As the train rounded a corner and disappeared from sight, Hermione took Draco's hand, kissed him on the cheek and whispered "I told you. You're nothing like him".