We Will Conserve Only What We Love
by H of monini
Disclaimer: I sadly do not own any of the below characters (not even Draco), and accept that they are all J.K. Rowling's.
Summary: Hermione hadn't quite been able to figure him out, but he was quiet and determined, and she had no reason to strongly dislike him, so she liked think she was ambivalent, and she didn't think that that'd change in the near future.
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"I want two feet of parchment by the next class please!"
She heard the young students around her groaning and smiled fondly at them, remembering her two best friends having similar reactions to their professors' demands.
"I know, I know. But you've got the whole weekend, so I'm expecting quality work from you all. You may go now."
The students continued groaning but walked out of the classroom without a word in protest, knowing that any argument with their professor would be fruitless and that completing the assignment would be the smarter course of action.
She ushered out the last few stragglers out of classroom, and sat back in her chair getting ready to mark the papers the sixth years had turned in today. She leaned back, and looked out her window that peered over the expanse of the quidditch pitch. It was a beautiful October day, and the sun shone brightly, lighting everything in sight. She had been teaching at Hogwarts for almost three years now, but still couldn't get used to the waves of nostalgia that hit her when she was least expecting it.
Every so often she'd relive the memory of Harry catching his first snitch, or Ron stuffing the most amount of food he could possibly fit in his mouth in the Great Hall. She was sitting on a different side now, on the high table with the rest of the professors, but she remembered the days at Hogwarts as a student as though they were just the last week, and she missed them dearly.
She still saw Ron and Harry of course, went to the burrow for dinner on almost a weekly basis, and babysat Harry and Ginny's children with Ron whenever their parents desired a night off. Harry was happy after the war, moving past the scars he had endured and did things he had always wanted to do - marry, have a family, and live a life without the fear of Voldemort or any other such dark forces. Ron hadn't found "the one" yet, but he seemed perfectly content looking around trying to find his match among the never ending queue of women he seemed to be seeing at any one time.
Hermione had spent two years as an apprentice of her beloved professor McGonagall when she had decided that Hermione was ready to fill her shoes and begin teaching the students. She had started off just teaching a few classes, and gradually moved on to teaching them all. She hadn't pictured becoming a teacher but quickly realized that it was the most rewarding experience she had ever had, and decided to continue with it for as long as Hogwarts would have her.
They were all happy in their lives, and it seemed as though the blood lost in the war had led to something great - children learning what their parents had sacrificed, knowing that the purity of blood was utter rubbish, and realizing that sometimes the brightest witch of the year could be a muggleborn.
The chimes suddenly rang and Hermione was broken from her silent reverie and looked back down at the papers she was to mark. She took out her favorite quill, and deep rich ink she loved from Hawthorne's and began to read.
An hour had passed and Hermione had gotten through almost a half of the papers, when suddenly, "How sad your life must be Granger, that you're indoors practically making out with the worthless assignments you give out, when you could be outside enjoying the beautiful weather like us normal people tend to do."
She heard his slow, almost hypnotizing drawl, but was jeered back to reality with the harshness of his words. She scowled at him deeply. "That's interesting Malfoy. Especially since you're here inside with me."
She swore she could have seen a slight smirk on his face, but before she could make sure he quickly covered it up and moved further into the room, closer towards Hermione. She went back to marking the papers, hoping he'd take the hint and leave. Five minutes later, she hadn't heard him make a noise, and looked up to find him staring out at the pitch with the same reminiscent look she had just minutes ago.
The rays of the sun were reflecting off of his pale hair and eyes, bathing him in their warmth, engulfing his entire body. The light glinted off the the silver wired frames of his glasses and she could see a slight dimple appear as his face formed into a concentrated look she had seen many times. She had never seen him look so at peace and so unguarded. Clearly he was loosing himself to the memories of his youth, forgetting that she was sitting just feet away from him.
She hated to admit it, but the years had been quite kind to him. Gone was the lanky boy of the past. He was tall and held himself with confidence, and had an easy grace that she had come to associate with the snarky blond. And he was snarky as ever. He looked older, it was easy to see the signs of war, but he looked refined, and was as charismatic and ambitious as ever. The Malfoys had always been natural leaders, and she never questioned the reason once she had seen his charm and charisma in action. But this was a rare sight - seeing him so vulnerable.
She had seen him this way before, quiet, peering out of a window, except that it had been about five years before. The beautiful pitch was replaced by the darkness of the night's sky and the window had been a part of Grimmauld Place rather than the Hogwarts castle. But he had been looking out at it in the same manner - thoughtful and concentrated as though he'd be able to find the answers he was looking for.
And five years ago, he had seemed to have found one. That epic night, where truth and light prevailed over evil, she saw him look over at her and silently nodded, signaling her that it was about to happened. No, not the moment that would Harry defeat Voldemort. Rather, he signaled the moment he would declare his allegiance to light side. He sent a curse flying at the heart of the deatheater that was standing next to him, and quickly distanced himself, crossing the invisible barrier, joining Hermione and Harry and Ron and the beliefs he had held silently in his heart. She saw the entire scene, remembered the look on his father's outraged face, could still hear the nasty curse his father had tried to send towards him, and could still feel the tear that slid down her face at the sight of seeing a son taking his father's life. It was tragical but beautiful and represented hope and everything they were fighting for, and as she heard his strong voice joining them, she knew they had a chance.
She cleared her throat quietly, and he quickly snapped out of his daze, and looked over at her, a perfectly formed smirk reappearing on his face.
"Go outside Granger, you're beginning to look as pale as a ghost. Honestly, when was the last time you let the sun hit your face?"
"You mean pale as you?" She mirrored his smirk. "I have to finish these papers Malfoy, I can't go frolic on the grounds with the students as you enjoying doing so much."
"Malfoys don't frolic Granger. And I don't spend time with the students. I can't help if they're absolutely enamored with me now can I? It's seems that no witch - no matter what age - can resist me."
She snorted in a very unladylike manner, "I've known you for almost all my life Malfoy, and I'm doing just fine."
"Indeed. You're doing just fine being in denial." Before she could retort, he winked at her and walked out of the room, and she could hear the students outside sighing at the sight of their handsome dark arts professor walking through the hallways.
Malfoy had taught in the school for as long as she had, and she honestly couldn't think of a better professor for the subject but him. He was experienced and knowledgeable and had an obvious passion for the subject that fired up his students as well. Of course, his wit, charm, and charisma also attracted quite a few students - and not just those of the opposite sex. The boys of all the houses looked up to their young professor as a mentor, and the girls of course were fascinated by the handsome and enigmatic man. When she was young, she had heard her muggle friend tell her that "every girl loves a bad boy," and she had enough proof now to believe it.
For Hermione's part, he was quite brilliant and she found that he was quite a good teacher. She had expected him to be cross and short with the students, much like Snape had done in her years in the school. But she found that he was thorough and willing to help when a student asked, and something about that made Hermione warm up to him considerably.
Harry and Ron of course had been friends with Malfoy since the time of the war, realizing all that he had sacrificed for their cause. He was invited over to burrow, accepted by all the Weasleys, and was even asked to come play quidditch with them on occasion. Hermione hadn't quite been able to figure him out, but he was quiet and determined, and she had no reason to strongly dislike him, so she liked think she was ambivalent, and she didn't think that that'd change in the near future.
Hermione went back to marking the remaining stack of papers, deciding to let the thoughts of the mysterious blond leave her mind. After finishing, she decided she would retire to her quarters, have a nice cup of tea, and curl up on her favorite couch with a book she had been wanting to read.
***
Author's Note: Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long, summer got pretty crazy (meeting Tom Felton!!! which M had mentioned, the Harry Potter at midnight and then about five more times afterwards, and of course summer courses). Of course, now school has started and is going full steam ahead whether I want it to or not :)
I actually started writing this at the end of the summer, but I wasn't sure if I should post it or not, but I decided it was worth a shot. I'm planning on making this a multi-chapter story, so I hope that I'll get some good feedback (all types of reviews are encouraged and greatly appreciated!) on this first chapter, letting me know there are some people out there actually reading this, and that I should go ahead and continue :)
ALSO, a last mention that the title comes from a quote by Baba Dioum - I want to give credit where credit is due.
Thanks guys!
-H