A/N: Set in the year after the fall of Lord Voldemort, this follows extended canon (as revealed by JK Rowling) that many of the students had to repeat a year at Hogwarts after the year that Snape was headmaster. This is a Dramione story, written for the first round of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Tournament. Dramione is the favourite ship of one of the Kestral chasers, Tammy. Here you go, sweetie!
Draco was seated beside Zabini at the Slytherin table, waiting on his friend to finish his meal. The two were alone. Crabbe was dead, and Goyle had not come back to Hogwarts for their alternative seventh year. To Draco, it was a waste of time, but his probation officer thought otherwise. Therefore, he was at Hogwarts yet again... only this time he was not surrounded by his posse.
Everything was different this year. He was no longer looked up to by Slytherin house. Half of them thought him a traitor to the Dark Lord, while the other half thought him a Death Eater who wasn't to be trusted. His teachers treated him indifferently, which was something that never happened before. Draco had always been at the top of his classes, however the biggest change was that he felt no distain whatsoever toward the mudbloods. In fact, he found one specific mudblood constantly catching his attention.
His ministry-assigned probation officer told him that he was finally growing up and learning what the world already knew. His mother said he was just being apathetic, and that his knowledge of what was right and wrong in the wizarding world would return. His father, however, had yet to hear of Draco's change in perspective.
"Oi, lead for brains," said Zabini, snapping his fingers in Draco's face, causing the blonde to start.
"Sorry, were you saying something?" Draco replied rather carelessly.
"Just that you're spacing out again looking at Granger," Zabini observed before taking another sip of his coffee.
Draco's glare came out in full force. "Why would I be looking at that?" he asked the man who was arguably his only ally this year.
Zabini raised an eyebrow at Draco. "You're kidding, right? You've been obsessed with the bloody witch for years. I'm surprised it's only just now that you've started staring openly."
Draco rolled his eyes. "You're delusional, Zabini," Draco replied, keeping his eyes from straying to the Gryffindor table where Hermione Granger was sitting.
"Everything you do is to upstage Granger and you've done more stupid things than I can count just to get her to talk to you. Face it, Malfoy. You're infatuated with the mudblood Queen of the Gryffindors," Zabini said smirking. His reasoning fell on deaf ears as Draco picked up his bag and shoved a last bite of food in his mouth.
"I'm going to Potions," Draco said with a sneer. "I suggest you get your head screwed on right before you join me."
-.-.-.-
"You're looking at her again," Zabini said conversationally to Draco as he sat in the desk next to him in potions.
Draco glared at his friend defiantly. Zabini put his hands in the air in surrender.
"Alright, whatever you say, though if you ask me, she's not bad looking and would probably be a decent roll in the sack," Zabini said noncommittally. Draco raised an eyebrow at him.
"That's literally disgusting," replied Draco curtly, but his gaze betrayed him as it strayed back to the witch sitting in the front row. His gaze had been doing that a lot the past few months, especially now since all "8th year" students had all their classes together. Zabini chuckled.
Stop looking at her, thought Draco. She's Granger, she's a mudblood, she'll never like you back, you've hurt her. Wait, what? Since when do I care? Do I care? What the hell is happening to me?
"Alright class! Today we're brewing Amortentia. This will be your final graded assignment for the term, along with a foot on what makes it the most potent of love potions," said Professor Slughorn cheerily. "Due in two weeks! Begin!" Granger practically jumped off her stool to get to the ingredient cabinet. She bounded right past Draco's desk and he caught a whiff of her light perfume.
In that moment, Draco didn't need to brew the amortentia to know what it would smell like to him. He became lost in his thoughts. No matter how much I try to cover it up, I can't get her out of my head. What has she done to me? Does she even realise? What if she does? But what if she doesn't?
Zabini got up from the desk, jolting Draco with his shoulder on his way to the cabinet. "Wake up, nimrod, or the mudblood will notice you staring," he told his friend. Draco shook himself from his stupor and followed Zabini to the cabinet. He never used to be a follower... oh how times had changed.
As they were moving toward the cabinet, Granger walked past them. Zabini stuck out his foot, causing her to trip and drop her ingredients. Draco was torn on how to react, while Zabini walked on as though nothing happened.
"Miss Granger! Are you alright?" asked Professor Slughorn worriedly from his desk. She looked up at him and nodded. Slughorn looked at her one more time with concern before continuing to correct the essays he had in front of him.
Draco didn't know what came over him, but he felt himself kneeling down and helping her pick up her things. Granger looked at him flabbergasted.
"What are you doing, Malfoy?" she whispered annoyedly, taking the dropped bottles from Draco's arms. "Go away."
"Uh... alright, sorry," Draco muttered, standing and brushing off his hands on his pants. "Just wanted to apologize for Zabini... He acted, uh... rudely... So... uh, sorry Granger..."
What the hell are you doing, Malfoy! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Draco thought to himself. Why the bloody hell am I apologizing to her? Why am I doing this? Merlin... what is wrong with me?
While he was thinking, she tilted her head at him. "Percy told me you were apathetic about everything, but he never mentioned that you actually grew a conscience," she said simply before picking up the rest of her things from the floor and walking away. Draco cursed under his breath at the mention of his Ministry probation officer, Percy Weasley.
He made his way to the ingredient cabinet and grabbed an armful of potions materials. Returning to his desk, he got to work. But before beginning work, he turned to Zabini. "Why did you do that? We're trying to avoid conflict this year," Draco muttered to the other wizard. Zabini smirked.
"Malfoy, she is and always will be nothing. Don't get your knickers in a twist," he replied. "Pass the lavender, please." Even though Draco knew Zabini was changing the subject, he also knew the discussion was far from over.
-.-.-.-.-
All week, Zabini wouldn't keep his mouth shut about Granger. Draco grew so annoyed by it that he found himself in the library seeking solitude. He walked up to Madame Pince to ask for a book about amortentia, since he only had a week left until the end of the Fall term and the essay due date. Seeing him approach, she groaned.
"You're the fifth student so far today from Professor Slughorn's class. I'm afraid another student already checked out our last book about advanced potions. At least, the last one we have left," the woman grumbled.
"Well, thank you anyway," replied Draco quietly before heading deeper into the library to start his essay without the book. He missed the surprised look on Madame Pince's face as he walked away.
He headed for a back alcove that he knew was almost always empty to work on the potions final essay. As he rounded the corner into the secluded spot, he saw that it was not as deserted as he expected.
Sitting on the floor, surrounded by books and rolls of parchment, was Hermione Granger. Draco groaned. Of all people, why did she have to be here? I haven't done anything to her all year, but she'll still get pissed and cause a scene... he thought. I should go... Draco paused. But what if I don't? What if I sit down instead? What would she do?
Surprisingly, Granger looked up and saw him standing there contemplating what to do. She sighed and moved her books to one side of the alcove. Draco stared at her in shock, his mind going blank as she made room for him.
"Well, are you going to sit?" she asked in her typical bossy manner. Draco stood there and continued to stare at the space she had made for him. "I understand needing to be away from everyone, Malfoy. It must be especially hard for you. So just sit down, shut up, do your work, and leave. I'm not Ron, I won't hex you for interacting with me, but any funny business and you will find yourself flying across this library."
Draco slowly sat down in the cleared space, setting down his book bag and pulling out the potions textbook and a roll of parchment. The two sat in silence for a while, neither wanting to break the surprisingly comfortable silence that had developed.
"Granger..." Draco said cautiously.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" she replied curtly.
"Did you happen to pick up that book on amortentia? Madame Pince mentioned someone had already taken it out."
"I did," she said simply. She reached into her bag, arm going in up to her elbow, and pulled it out, handing it over to Draco to use. She hardly looked up at him.
"Thank you," he replied. Granger's head shot up and she faced him quickly.
"Never, in my entire time knowing you, have you ever said thank you, and particularly not to me," she observed, a hesitant glare. "What is going on with you?"
The blonde sighed and set the book on top of his still open textbook. "I just feel the need to be civil toward you, alright Granger?" he replied tiredly.
"Fine then, Draco, we'll be civil" she said, opening her book again. To Draco, she seemed indifferent, then he realised what she had called him. He sputtered at her and she rolled her eyes with the smallest of smiles. "People who are civil with each other call each other by their first names, prat," she said, turning back to her books.
Much to his own dismay, he found himself smiling. "Alright then, Hermione. But I'm not certain they call each other prat either."
"So what if I do?" she replied lightly.
"Well, how about you don't?" he replied with another smile. Why he was smiling, he didn't know, but the feeling in his chest made him feel happy.
-.-.-.-.-
Time passed from the day in the alcove when they had decided to be civil. Every day without fail the two met in that alcove and did their work. At first they did the school work in silence, only speaking if they needed a book or a spare quill. However, as time passed, they grew to ask questions about various classes and help each other with essays and complex spells. Their ability to be civil around each other quickly evolved into a form of friendship.
There were a few times where Draco couldn't figure out what he was doing in that alcove. He was raised to hate her, yet he kept wanting to spend more and more time with her. He would suddenly find himself asking about her life, her friends, or what her weekend plans were. She would always answer him, replying with a question of her own many times. During classes, the other eighth year students grew to notice and accept the change.
One morning, after four months had passed, Draco walked into the Great Hall and shocked the entire castle. He walked straight past the Slytherin table, making a beeline for the head of bushy hair that was Hermione. All of the students noticed and sucked in a breath. Most of the students were expecting a fight to break out. Hermione's nose was stuck in a book as Draco approached. She was oblivious to the tension in the Hall.
Finally reaching her, Draco hesitated. If I do this, what will it mean? he thought. True we've been pretty much friends for months now, but this is still... oh to hell with it. So what if I do? I've come this far, it'll be pathetic if I don't.
Draco shocked everyone when he slid into the vacant seat on the bench next to Hermione. He nudged her with his shoulder and smiled hello as he piled scrambled eggs on his plate.
"Good morning, Draco," she said, turning her attention to her unlikely friend for a split second before returning to her book. It seemed as though it was something he did every day,sitting with her, not an out-of-the-blue occurrence. Turning toward the Slytherin table, he noted, and promptly ignored, the loathing looks heading his way. Zabini's face looked like one of annoyance as he turned and was forced to endure Pansy Parkinson and her audible rage at Draco's seating choice.
Draco ate his eggs and read over Hermione's shoulder, ignoring the sounds of shock resounding in the hall. Amid Pansy's incessant (and ignored) ranting, Ginny Weasley sat down across from Draco, nodding civilly to him before chatting animatedly with Hermione. Hermione passed the book to Draco and looked up to speak with her friend. The student body watched the exchange in amazement and mild confusion. The two were supposed to be enemies, right?
The Great Hall soon returned to normal, gossip flying about the unlikely duo. Draco didn't care. When he was with Hermione, he was content. He would even go so far as to say he was happy. He had nothing to worry about.
-.-.-.-.-
"You're going to get hell for earlier, you know," said Hermione, not looking up from her charms essay. The two were back in their study alcove, as classes were done for the day. "Slytherin house particularly hates traitors."
"Whatever, it's just Zabini and I in the dormitory and the rest of them can go hang themselves," he replied. Looking up from his own charms essay, he stared at Hermione. "Your friend, the Weasley girl, Ginny right? She didn't seem very surprised to see me."
"No, she can just hide it better than male Weasleys," said Hermione, the corner of her mouth quirking up into a smile. "They're so emotionally-driven sometimes. Ginny doesn't mind anyone as long as they're not being jerkish."
"Oh," said Draco, turning back to his essay. The silence that surrounded them was less comfortable than usual, as though there were many things left unsaid. Time crawled by at a snail's pace before either spoke again.
"Why do we do this?" asked Hermione suddenly, shutting her books, setting down her parchment, and looking at Draco. He slowly closed his book and placed it beside him, raising his head until his eyes met hers.
"We study because we care about our lessons and NEWTs," he replied simply. "We come here because it's quiet and away from the constant hustle and bustle of rebuilding the school that is still happening in main areas of the castle."
"I suppose," said Hermione. "But that's not what I mean."
"Well then enlighten me, Miss Granger," said Draco, the side of his mouth quirking into a smile. "What do you mean?"
"Prat, you know what I mean. Why do we bother being civil with each other, being friends with each other? Isn't it absurd? The rest of the school seems to think so," she told him.
Draco's smile grew. "I'm always just a prat to you, aren't I?"
"That isn't an answer, prat," Hermione replied with a small grin.
"I think we bother with this because despite our continued presence at school, we've both grown out of the pettiness of house rivalries and it's easier to get along," Draco reasoned.
Not to mention that you're incredibly beautiful and I haven't been able to get you out of my head for years. If I could have stopped Aunt Bella from hurting you, I would have. If I regret anything, it's how I've treated you. You're an amazing human being, Draco thought.
"That makes sense," said Hermione slowly. "Are you sure you're not here for any reason other than to bury the hatchet? This entire situation has been very odd and it's been bugging me. I don't know why, but it has. So just answer the question."
I cannot possibly answer that, Hermione, he thought. "Just burying the hatchet, Hermione. Trying to be friends with the right kind of people for once."
"You're certain?" asked Hermione, something Draco couldn't recognize glinting in her eyes. Draco nodded, hoping his feelings weren't showing through the carefully placed mask he wore over his emotions.
Hermione shocked him at that moment. She shocked the mask right off his face. He was turning to pick up his book and continue working when she leaned over the small pile of books that existed between them and pecked him lightly on the lips. Draco froze as she leaned back. Hermione's blush was so red that the only way for it to get any brighter was if she was a Weasley.
"I can't make you like me if you don't..." said Hermione slowly, picking up her essay again. She then smirked at him with confidence he hadn't seen but knew she possessed. "But I can try."
Draco grinned. It wasn't his usual smirk, though. It was a large, goofy grin that spread from ear to ear. For the first time, to his knowledge, Draco felt genuinely happy. Tossing caution to the wind,he leaned over the books and kissed her, a small, tender kiss, just a touch of lips really, but he poured his growing emotions into it.
It was a short kiss and once he pulled back, the smile was still plastered on his face. He leaned back, picking up his essay and books while doing so. "Hermione," he said, snapping her out of the shock she had evidently gone into.
"Yes?" she replied, obviously confused.
Draco smirked at her confusion. "You don't need to try."
A/N 2988 words excluding author's notes. Hope you liked!