Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of the Harry Potter characters, I'm just
borrowing them for awhile.
Millions of Tiny Lights
She sat in the library tonight, as she usually did most nights, with the only difference being that tonight the library was decked head to foot in Christmas decorations and ornaments, from the garlands to the huge tree in the corner of the room, near the fireplace.
She had opted to stay at Hogwarts this Christmas, for no other reason than to be with her friends, Ron and Harry, and to catch up on her studies during the holidays. Hermione Granger hated to admit it, but she was a bit worried about her potions mark, which seemed to be plunging drastically ever since Snape had found them snooping around his supply room after class. Well, she was determined to give him no reason to reduce her once perfect A+ anymore than it already had been.
She sighed distractedly. Classes were much harder this year than had been expected, even by her standard. Hermione looked back down at the book on the table in front of her. The page she was on described some sort of simple hex that even a second-year would find easy, but for some reason she couldn't wrap her mind around it. Maybe it was because she was tired. It was after all about 11:30 at night, and Christmas Eve to boot. She smiled happily as she thought of the presents, which would be waiting under the tree for her the next morning.
She got up lazily, stretched, and was about to go back and put the book on its proper shelf, when she heard a sudden noise. It was the door to the library opening. She looked up in time to see Draco Malfoy storm into the library and head straight for one of the very plushy chairs next to the fireplace.
Draco hadn't exactly been nice to either her or her friends this year, but he hadn't been overly nasty either. Somehow, he had refrained from calling them names and making fun of them.
Well, at least to their faces anyway.
At first she had wondered about his 'change of heart'. Maybe it had miraculously grew a couple sizes bigger over the summer, like the Grinch's had, but somehow she highly doubted that were possible. In any case, she decided that what must be done right then was to check on what had made Draco upset enough to storm into the library alone.
She looked around her, but found no prying eyes, which would have otherwise stopped her from checking on the boy. She wouldn't have wanted to start rumors, there were already enough of those around concerning her and Ron.
Hermione walked silently over to where Draco had decided to sit, and moved to the seat opposite him, all the while trying to keep all of her concentration on the Christmas tree in the corner, between Draco and the fireplace. She felt his eyes look up to her face, and register who it was. She was half expecting him to get up right there and leave the room. She hadn't spoken to him once during the entire year except for the occasional 'thanks' when he had passed her some ingredients she needed for a potion (he did sit next to her in that class). What she hadn't been prepared for was the sudden movement with which he straightened in his chair and brought his hands to his eyes.
It was then that Hermione looked up to his face, and noticed how red and watery his eyes seemed. She was in shock. Draco crying?
"What's wrong, Draco?" Was her first and only instinctive reaction.
He looked up at her quickly when she said his name, with a look of hope and something else Hermione couldn't quite place in his eyes. 'He's blushing' she thought to herself, surprised once again. But her mind came into check quickly after that. 'Oh, it's probably just the fire, or the lights from the tree making me see things'. She looked back down at the book she had carried with her, the light from the fire making the silvery writing sparkle and shine.
Once Hermione could finally bring her attention away from the captivating cover, she looked up once again to meet Draco's eyes, which now seemed to be boring into her own questioningly. She realized that he hadn't yet answered her.
"I-I'm fine, just a bit disappointed that my father didn't give me an invite home because he thought I needed more time to study.and, there is the.well.Oh, never mind"
Draco shook his head in exasperation, trying to lose the confusion that could be seen through his eyes. The confusion which seemed to be tormenting him.
Once again, Hermione was forced into using her already over-tired brain to wonder where she had heard Draco speak like that before, without so much as a disdainful word or a piece of criticism anywhere. She realized almost too quickly that it had been when she had overheard him talking to his mother and former girlfriend, Pansy.
"Maybe" she ventured uncertainly, "you should speak like that more often. You know, with no nastiness. It would give everyone less of a reason to dislike you." She looked down right after saying this, not wanting to meet cold gray eyes that were probably terribly angry with her for saying something so forward. But when she finally did look up, his expression held nothing of the contempt she had feared, but a calm understanding.
"Maybe you're right. But I'm not one to care very much what others say, except maybe.those." He broke off here again, which only led into a very silent break in the conversation.
Finally, Hermione got up the courage to ask whose opinion he cared for. She didn't understand at the time why her heart had suddenly begun to speed up, or why her palms had suddenly begun to become sweaty, but her mind was tired, and she decided that the best thing to do now was to not think. Who knew, maybe she could sprain some sort of muscle in her brain if she didn't stop now, if that were possible.
Draco looked at her even more piercing as she asked, "So then whose opinion does it suit you to mind?" The look on his face confirmed what she had feared. He had registered the slight quiver in her voice. For some reason, his eyes unclouded a bit at this. He looked more relaxed, like he had originally thought they were on uneven ground, and that it had now been evened.
"I hope you can understand this," he said much more confidently, ".but yours is the opinion I value above all." The hopefulness, which had from the first been apparent, was now etched much more firmly on his features than ever before, along with what could be described as smugness. As if he had already assumed her reaction.
Hermione blushed a deep shade of red, so deep, in fact, that the heat of the fire, or the bright lights on the tree couldn't explain it away. Draco looked even smugger than before, if it were possible.
"That's very flattering, Draco, but really, you don't need to look for my opinion. You're already very smart, and everyone knows it. Just because I approve of the method with which you might go about something, doesn't mean that it's perfect. I'm definitely far from it myself"
Draco's face fell a bit at that statement, but seemed not to lose the complete look of smugness and hope just yet.
"Hermione," he said softly. She shivered agreeably as he spoke her name. "You must know that that's not what I meant about which type of opinions. You are definitely intelligent enough to have understood that."
'But he doesn't realize,' she thought 'that I've given up on logic tonight'. For some reason, the thought of not thinking felt very comfortable to her at this moment.
Suddenly, without any warning, Draco stood. He seemed to be very aware and embarrassed of what he just said, or so it seemed to her.
"Maybe I should go." he said, looking regretful. But strangely enough, at that moment, Hermione wanted nothing more than for him to stay. She stood up abruptly.
"Don't." she forced herself to whisper, reaching out with her free hand to grab his wrist lightly. "You've finally just started opening up to me, you can't stop now."
Draco looked.touched. She could almost see the tears welling up in his eyes, the tears that never got a chance to fall before he pulled her towards him; her hand still attached firmly to his wrist, and kissed her.
If someone had told her that Hufflepuff was going to win every game in the Quidditch season this year, she wouldn't have been more surprised. His lips felt soft against her own, and in a position like this, he also seemed as vulnerable as she felt.
In normal times of confusion, Hermione had a habit of re-examining the situation, but at this time, right then, the most natural thing to do was to accept. Accept that she was kissing her once archrival, accept that he might feel something more than contempt towards her, and accept that she may feel the same towards him.
The book dropped from Hermione's hand. The noise broke their newly fallen silence, and they broke apart slowly, together taking a deep breath. Draco's lips were graced with a slight smile, while Hermione could do nothing but stare into his eyes, which had turned from a slate grey colour to sparkling silver. The great Christmas tree in the corner was shining on them with all of its power of millions of tiny lights, and it made the scene more magical than either had dared to ever dream it would be.
Millions of Tiny Lights
She sat in the library tonight, as she usually did most nights, with the only difference being that tonight the library was decked head to foot in Christmas decorations and ornaments, from the garlands to the huge tree in the corner of the room, near the fireplace.
She had opted to stay at Hogwarts this Christmas, for no other reason than to be with her friends, Ron and Harry, and to catch up on her studies during the holidays. Hermione Granger hated to admit it, but she was a bit worried about her potions mark, which seemed to be plunging drastically ever since Snape had found them snooping around his supply room after class. Well, she was determined to give him no reason to reduce her once perfect A+ anymore than it already had been.
She sighed distractedly. Classes were much harder this year than had been expected, even by her standard. Hermione looked back down at the book on the table in front of her. The page she was on described some sort of simple hex that even a second-year would find easy, but for some reason she couldn't wrap her mind around it. Maybe it was because she was tired. It was after all about 11:30 at night, and Christmas Eve to boot. She smiled happily as she thought of the presents, which would be waiting under the tree for her the next morning.
She got up lazily, stretched, and was about to go back and put the book on its proper shelf, when she heard a sudden noise. It was the door to the library opening. She looked up in time to see Draco Malfoy storm into the library and head straight for one of the very plushy chairs next to the fireplace.
Draco hadn't exactly been nice to either her or her friends this year, but he hadn't been overly nasty either. Somehow, he had refrained from calling them names and making fun of them.
Well, at least to their faces anyway.
At first she had wondered about his 'change of heart'. Maybe it had miraculously grew a couple sizes bigger over the summer, like the Grinch's had, but somehow she highly doubted that were possible. In any case, she decided that what must be done right then was to check on what had made Draco upset enough to storm into the library alone.
She looked around her, but found no prying eyes, which would have otherwise stopped her from checking on the boy. She wouldn't have wanted to start rumors, there were already enough of those around concerning her and Ron.
Hermione walked silently over to where Draco had decided to sit, and moved to the seat opposite him, all the while trying to keep all of her concentration on the Christmas tree in the corner, between Draco and the fireplace. She felt his eyes look up to her face, and register who it was. She was half expecting him to get up right there and leave the room. She hadn't spoken to him once during the entire year except for the occasional 'thanks' when he had passed her some ingredients she needed for a potion (he did sit next to her in that class). What she hadn't been prepared for was the sudden movement with which he straightened in his chair and brought his hands to his eyes.
It was then that Hermione looked up to his face, and noticed how red and watery his eyes seemed. She was in shock. Draco crying?
"What's wrong, Draco?" Was her first and only instinctive reaction.
He looked up at her quickly when she said his name, with a look of hope and something else Hermione couldn't quite place in his eyes. 'He's blushing' she thought to herself, surprised once again. But her mind came into check quickly after that. 'Oh, it's probably just the fire, or the lights from the tree making me see things'. She looked back down at the book she had carried with her, the light from the fire making the silvery writing sparkle and shine.
Once Hermione could finally bring her attention away from the captivating cover, she looked up once again to meet Draco's eyes, which now seemed to be boring into her own questioningly. She realized that he hadn't yet answered her.
"I-I'm fine, just a bit disappointed that my father didn't give me an invite home because he thought I needed more time to study.and, there is the.well.Oh, never mind"
Draco shook his head in exasperation, trying to lose the confusion that could be seen through his eyes. The confusion which seemed to be tormenting him.
Once again, Hermione was forced into using her already over-tired brain to wonder where she had heard Draco speak like that before, without so much as a disdainful word or a piece of criticism anywhere. She realized almost too quickly that it had been when she had overheard him talking to his mother and former girlfriend, Pansy.
"Maybe" she ventured uncertainly, "you should speak like that more often. You know, with no nastiness. It would give everyone less of a reason to dislike you." She looked down right after saying this, not wanting to meet cold gray eyes that were probably terribly angry with her for saying something so forward. But when she finally did look up, his expression held nothing of the contempt she had feared, but a calm understanding.
"Maybe you're right. But I'm not one to care very much what others say, except maybe.those." He broke off here again, which only led into a very silent break in the conversation.
Finally, Hermione got up the courage to ask whose opinion he cared for. She didn't understand at the time why her heart had suddenly begun to speed up, or why her palms had suddenly begun to become sweaty, but her mind was tired, and she decided that the best thing to do now was to not think. Who knew, maybe she could sprain some sort of muscle in her brain if she didn't stop now, if that were possible.
Draco looked at her even more piercing as she asked, "So then whose opinion does it suit you to mind?" The look on his face confirmed what she had feared. He had registered the slight quiver in her voice. For some reason, his eyes unclouded a bit at this. He looked more relaxed, like he had originally thought they were on uneven ground, and that it had now been evened.
"I hope you can understand this," he said much more confidently, ".but yours is the opinion I value above all." The hopefulness, which had from the first been apparent, was now etched much more firmly on his features than ever before, along with what could be described as smugness. As if he had already assumed her reaction.
Hermione blushed a deep shade of red, so deep, in fact, that the heat of the fire, or the bright lights on the tree couldn't explain it away. Draco looked even smugger than before, if it were possible.
"That's very flattering, Draco, but really, you don't need to look for my opinion. You're already very smart, and everyone knows it. Just because I approve of the method with which you might go about something, doesn't mean that it's perfect. I'm definitely far from it myself"
Draco's face fell a bit at that statement, but seemed not to lose the complete look of smugness and hope just yet.
"Hermione," he said softly. She shivered agreeably as he spoke her name. "You must know that that's not what I meant about which type of opinions. You are definitely intelligent enough to have understood that."
'But he doesn't realize,' she thought 'that I've given up on logic tonight'. For some reason, the thought of not thinking felt very comfortable to her at this moment.
Suddenly, without any warning, Draco stood. He seemed to be very aware and embarrassed of what he just said, or so it seemed to her.
"Maybe I should go." he said, looking regretful. But strangely enough, at that moment, Hermione wanted nothing more than for him to stay. She stood up abruptly.
"Don't." she forced herself to whisper, reaching out with her free hand to grab his wrist lightly. "You've finally just started opening up to me, you can't stop now."
Draco looked.touched. She could almost see the tears welling up in his eyes, the tears that never got a chance to fall before he pulled her towards him; her hand still attached firmly to his wrist, and kissed her.
If someone had told her that Hufflepuff was going to win every game in the Quidditch season this year, she wouldn't have been more surprised. His lips felt soft against her own, and in a position like this, he also seemed as vulnerable as she felt.
In normal times of confusion, Hermione had a habit of re-examining the situation, but at this time, right then, the most natural thing to do was to accept. Accept that she was kissing her once archrival, accept that he might feel something more than contempt towards her, and accept that she may feel the same towards him.
The book dropped from Hermione's hand. The noise broke their newly fallen silence, and they broke apart slowly, together taking a deep breath. Draco's lips were graced with a slight smile, while Hermione could do nothing but stare into his eyes, which had turned from a slate grey colour to sparkling silver. The great Christmas tree in the corner was shining on them with all of its power of millions of tiny lights, and it made the scene more magical than either had dared to ever dream it would be.