I.
It was snowing, the night she had turned the world upside down for them both. London was blanketed heavily in white and although clouds loomed overhead as usual, bits of the indigo coloured-sky were dotted with stars that twinkled rather enchantingly.
The antique clock hanging on the wall a few feet from Hermione Granger chimed seven times - as always nearly an hour or so off, for it was actually almost nine in the afternoon. She sat at the only available table in the far back corner of the shoppe across from her lab partner, Draco Malfoy, while they reviewed notes from their morning class.
"How much leech juice do you add to complete a Shrinking Solution?" his voice brought her out of her wandering thoughts. She answered quickly as if it was an everyday notion to know that it was just a dash of juice to make the potion its trademark day-glow green before returning to looking out of one of the large picture windows as her mind roamed again.
This witch had changed from that bushy haired, buck-toothed first year he had met practically a decade ago. She had blossomed, into this incredibly intriguing creature that captured a majority of his thoughts. Despite the fact that she was still a bossy, infuriating swot that knew how to push his buttons and bring him to his boiling point with absolute ease.
"You do realize that you're the only person to not finish the project yet?" an eighteen year old Hermione questions from beside him. He doesn't know how long she's been standing there – he's been so absorbed in trying to complete the assignment that he didn't notice until she spoke up.
His lips pull back in a snarl and he casts a dark look at her. Those morose eyes like storm clouds, so full of pure animosity towards the short brunette of his past. He growls low, "Do you realize you will always be an annoying bint?"
She scoffs at him while she slides into the seat next to him, "Better to be an annoying bint than an insolent arse, don't you think?" She retorts sharply as she pulls out her charms book and sets it in front of her like he has.
He's practically staring a hole into the pages as if that will make him understand how to perform the charm perfectly, going into tunnel vision to ignore the sight of the witch.
"Honestly Malfoy, can't you just ask for help for once?" her voice is a little softer than before as she moves in a little closer to him. He visibly bristles, his back straightens and the muscles in his body tense up. He's gone into defense mode – it's an aftereffect of the second war; she's seen it in nearly all of her school mates.
"I don't need your help," he says angrily as continues to glare the print and its dense explanation of how to concoct an imperturbable charm on a public area. He promises silently that once he's an experienced well-known healer he will rewrite these textbooks in a way that is actually comprehendible to students.
She smiled lightly before she managed to stifle it – it's nice to find something familiar for the first time in months. University had been rather thrilling and exotic, which was exactly what she wanted when she enrolled; something different and challenging. But after a while the charm had worn off and left her surrounded by strange people and places, far far away from home. But Malfoy, the git, has not changed a stone and it warms her heart.
"Have it your way then," she announces and pulls out her notes from her satchel. She places them neatly in between their books and begins to read them out loud, "In order to create a magical barrier on a large area with no real targeted object in particular you must first cast a shield charm on said area…"
He's not looking, but she knows he's listening to her as she sees him relaxing his shoulders in her peripheral vision. It's just about a half an hour later, that he's the one leaning on his right elbow to study her notes and follow them step-by-step. And it's somewhere around an hour before he's casting the correct charm on the entire schoolroom.
His eyes resembled pools of molten silver as they took in the scene before him - this beautiful witch, from her soft messy tangle of curls to her small delicate hands wrapped around the cup of tea. This witch whom he had known for nearly half his life and yet still had an air of mystery to her; what on earth was going on in that thick head of hers right now?
She seemed extremely distant today, skipping in and out of her own private ponderings to answer his study questions. He watched as she shook her head quickly as if ridding herself of an unpleasant idea before she turned her face towards him.
She brushed a stray curl from her face before she picked up her cuppa and took a sip, her eyes dark and alluring, staring at him candidly. He stared back at her quite quizzically, like he was expecting an answer to a question he hadn't asked yet. Her full lips twisted upwards as she set the cup down, "What?"
He shrugged and somehow managed to drag his eyes away from hers, "Just wondering what you're thinking; I can tell from that look it's something a bit mental."
It is. Due to unfortunate circumstances, her Dean of Medicines – a very somber wizard named Humberto (who is nothing like the telly character who shares the same name), has informed her that the money she has been relying on will no longer be supplied because the majority of the sponsors have begun to contribute funds to other ventures instead.
He repeatedly mentions how much the University has enjoyed having such a bright witch studying under them and apologized for the fact that she may not be able to advance with the rest of her pupils when she has quite a dazzling future up ahead with marks like hers.
She looked out of the window of the coffee house once more, her mind running approximately a million miles an hour, and had no idea where to start. She looked back to her companion, her hands hugging the china cup tighter as she struggled for her words, "I've lost my scholarship."
She feels a pang of sorrow at finally saying the words out loud. She's lost her opportunity. She's lost her chance at becoming a renowned Healer – to be able to save precious lives like she wished she had been able to do a few years back. She's lost her dream.
What's she going to do now? Without the money from Bast's sponsors, she can't pay for her classes or her flat or her medical journals owled directly from Europe. She's lost everything she's worked for. Her entire life is being flushed down the drain, her inner child is waving and sobbing as she watches it disappear into its proverbial watery grave.
It was nice while it lasted, eh? Her gaze flickered down to her fingernails. They are ugly, gnarly from her awful habit of chewing at them when irritated. Her future has become hazy as a mid-fall fog and now all she has left to comfort her is falling into dreadful patterns from her childhood.
He blinked slowly as if that would clear his confusion before it settled on him that she was possibly telling the truth. Obviously, the University had pulled her funding; but why wasn't she panicked?
She had studied her arse off since her first year at Hogwarts to get good enough grades to be accepted to Bast University of Magical Medical Sciences and without that financial aid she would most definitely have to drop out - a single semester cost nearly a hundred galleons, not to mention room and board. He would know, he had been right alongside her signing up for undergraduate classes two years ago, but unlike her, his trust fund had paved a way for him to being one of the best and brightest.
Maybe it's the fact that she has nothing to lose now that she has no funding and that it may be one of the very last times she will be here to study in this caff with Draco that this kooky, delirious thought has entered her mind. A solution. Well, you either go big or go home, right?
If anyone has reason to help her, it was him, she reasoned to herself. All the study hours she has given to make sure he understands the reading materials and knows how to perform the spells correctly. All the times, she's sat with him and listened to him bather on about his life and the long lists of expectations that come with being Draco Malfoy. Really, she knows there's no way he can say no – he needs her…nearly as much as she needs him, especially right now.
He studied her face for the dismay and fear that she should have had, but her eyes were luminous and the smile she gave him seemed quite genuine, "Have you gone nutters, Granger?"
Nervousness bubbled inside of her at both his question and at her dilemma. This idea of how to save herself from dropping out was an actual answer to her problem, but it was definitely a long shot. She laughed as casually as she could, hoping he couldn't hear the slight stress in it and waved a pseudo dismissive hand, "Absolutely not. I know how to get enough money to finish school."
He leaned forward more on their table and tilted his head, looking out from behind his white-blonde fringe at her, "Do tell."
She took a deep breath and counted to three before she aligned her eyes with his. Her smile grew some as she leaned forward; brown clashing with grey. Mere inches separated them. She could smell faintly the hot cocoa he was drinking on his breath and see the beginnings of crow's feet from all the late night crunching for classes and regular insomnia.
He was waiting by the door of their Properly Using Glamours' class for her; it's been nearly two weeks since she had helped him with his charms work. He still hasn't properly thanked her as he should, but his dignity stops him from doing so.
He has been wondering about that event over and over again. He was pants at charms, but somehow she had made it seem easily. After he had completed it, it was totally idiotic to not have been able to do so before.
He remembered the way she smiled so brilliantly when he mumbled a short, "I'll see you tomorrow, Hermione." That smile made his heart clench. Stop for a second as if some invisible force grasped it tightly. He decided he wants to see that smile more.
She's walking down the aisle with her head buried in a large tome and she doesn't see him until she is just a few feet away. She puts the heavy book into her knapsack and nodded at him, "Is there something you needed?"
"Come out with me for a spot of tea, yeah?" he says, it's not a date – because he hates her and she hates him. They have a history and a bad one at that. But she was nice enough to help him with his school work; in turn he's nice enough to invite her out. He knows for a fact that even though they've been at school for a bit that she has probably never wandered outside of campus.
"Hmm," she looks away for a moment as she taps on her cheek with her pointer finger and then she looks at him. And then there's that smile that makes him feel odd, in a good way. "That sounds lovely Draco."
She knew almost everything that was apparent about him, probably because she saw him on an almost daily basis after dinner here at Nordic Bakery for months for tasty oven pancakes with raspberry jam and intellectual company while studying - it was a strange notion for her to completely wrap her head around sometimes. She, Hermione Granger, knew this man like the back of her hand.
"Marry me?" she asked timidly.
Auth or's Notes:
1) Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. All future mentioned original characters and the plot are my property. No copyright infringement is intended.
2) I would be absolutely noth ingggg with out my incredible beta Sierra and my amazing reviewers. I originally h ad th e rough draft for th is up and th rash ed it for th is much better model - so if you th ink you've seen it some wh ere before, you h ave. If you could take a second to leave me a comment of feedback th at'd be awesome sauce, seriously. I want, NEED, h ave to h ave your ideas on th is; is it good, bad?