Sitting in Corners
*
Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling – self explanatory! :)
The war was over, Voldemort was dead and relative peace was restored to the world.
So on the first of September, students returned to Hogwarts. The idea was that school life should go on as usual, but this was not to be. As it was, many Hogwarts students had taken to sitting in deserted corners of the castle whenever they had a spare moment.
Other than the fact that a corner, or any place for that matter, cannot actually be deserted if there is someone sitting in it, this made perfect sense.
What had happened during the war had left its scars on millions of people, and the students returning to Hogwarts were no exception. Different people dealt with their shock, loss and grief in different ways, and at Hogwarts it soon became apparent that the most common approach to it was – put bluntly – sitting in corners.
Though of course a few students sitting in corners and staring at the walls didn't seem to pose much of a problem at first, this sitting in corners soon went past being a fad and turned into a cult. Soon nearly every student had joined in; it was almost a veritable religion. Anyone wearing even a shred of colour was shunned, and if you looked happy whilst sitting in your corner you were excommunicated.
It was what could be described as mass emo-ness – and the practice of sitting in corners was soon so popular that problems began to arise. Not only were the teachers getting increasingly frustrated with the participants of this strange new sect, there were not enough corners in Hogwarts.
For a gigantic castle built in the days when big meant ENORMOUS, this was saying something. In the end every last corner throughout the whole of Hogwarts castle had an occupant, leading to the conclusion that people would have to share. At first this caused some unrest within the Sitting In Corners cult, but after all attempts to move imposing cupboards and suits of armour had failed and resulted in some pretty severe curses, injuries and detentions, it was accepted that sitting in corners would have to cease to be a solitary activity.
*
"Do you mind if I share your corner?" a quiet voice said morosely.
Draco Malfoy glanced up to see a very depressed-looking Hermione Granger standing over him.
"It's just that Harry absolutely won't let anyone near his corner, Ron's already sharing with some slu– girl, and every other corner from here to the seventh floor is taken."
Malfoy grunted in a glum, non-committal sort of way, too dejected to be any more animated by the view up Hermione's skirt that her current stance offered him. What ever happened to 'thou shalt not share thy corner'? he wondered silently.
"Thanks," she muttered, sitting down beside him and fixing her gaze on the wall in front of them.
And that was the beginning.
Hermione sat with Malfoy in his corner from then on, and soon there was an odd sort of companionship between them. They seemed only to put up with each other – they didn't even speak – but deep down it was more than just ignoring one another; it was more than tolerance – something that neither of them consciously realised. Perhaps the only hint of that was the sense of deserted loss that both Draco and Hermione felt whenever the other wasn't there, leaving the one that was left to sit in the corner alone and cry. Their mutual hate seemed to have dissolved without either of them even realising it.
It was then that it became their corner, not just his.
Early on one particularly cold December morning Hermione was there before Draco, facing the rough-hewn stone wall as usual. She turned to him when he sat down beside her, rather than continuing to stare at the wall as she normally did. He noticed that the buttons of her shirt were done up in the wrong holes, as though she hadn't been paying attention when she'd done them, and a little edge of red lace was showing from beneath her black shirt.
Something long dormant inside him reacted to that. "Colour," he said – the first word either of them had spoken since they'd started sharing their corner.
"So?" she said with feeling, embarrassedly tugging at her shirt but failing to hide the edge of her red bra.
He shrugged and turned away, thinking, How long has it been since I looked at a girl with interest? Since the start of the war, at least... But then he jumped when Hermione started shrieking at him.
"No! Aren't you sick of all this? Don't you ever wonder what it would be like to be happy again? Don't you want to be happy again? Are you going to spend the rest of your life being miserable and sitting in corners? Well, I'm not! I'm going to be happy and get a life, even if I'm the only one!"
He eyed her up and down in bewilderment, lingering on the neckline of her shirt. "What's brought all this on?" It's been forever...
"Funny thing, Draco," she replied icily. He started at her casual use of his first name as she went on, "I woke up this morning, tried to convince myself to get up so that I could come here and be depressed with you again, and realised that it's Christmas!"
"Christmas?" He was astonished – it was Christmas, she'd called him Draco, and he was looking at her like he hadn't looked at any female in years – now more and more of the old, pre-war, pre-depression Draco Malfoy was resurfacing. Why can't I look away? She's a Gryffindor!
"Yes, Christmas, you know – the time of joy and good tidings and happiness and all that? Or have you forgotten?"
Does it matter?
Bright spots of colour appeared on her cheeks as she went on, "I think I'm the only person in the whole castle that's remembered Christmas – have you noticed that there are no decorations up at all this year? Really, everyone needs to find a bit of mistletoe to have a good snog under, then maybe they'd lighten up and become sane agai– mmph!"
Oh, what the hell!
Suddenly Hermione was rendered unable to speak due to Draco – and she now knew that she no longer thought of him as Malfoy – attacking her mouth with his own. At first her only reaction was surprise, but then she closed her eyes and threw herself into the kiss with as much enthusiasm as the Slytherin.
It was a long time before they resurfaced.
"Wha– what made you do that?" she spluttered eventually, disentangling herself from his arms and straightening the already wayward edge of her shirt.
"The same thing that made you wear some form of colour for the first time in months, I'd wager," he replied, grinning. "It's Christmas!" And the fact that you're a different Granger to the one I used to know and hate. A much hotter one, among other things. She stared at him in astonishment. "Well then," he said brightly as she struggled to form coherent words, "Fancy coming to spread the Christmas spirit with me?"
She positively beamed at him.
Author's note: Love it? Hate it? Got anything at all to say about it? In any case, please review!! Thanks to my friend Rina, who gave me the (extremely random) idea, and Mini, who gave me the title. You guys rock! :D Also, does anyone have any suggestions for improvement? I wouldn't mind having someone beta this fic... :) This is a lot different to what I usually write, but I enjoy writing Harry Potter stuff. It's fun. To anyone who reads my on-going fic, Telgars, I'm sorry it's taking so long to update, but the next chapter is partially written and hopefully I'll get it done soon-ish. Sorry. :)