A fanfiction I started about a year ago on wattpad. I'm editing it there so I thought I'd start posting the edited chapters here, and then continue with the new chapters onwards. I'm still carrying on my Severus/Hermione fic, it just seemed a shame to drop this.

*Enlightenment is set in the Half-blood Prince just after Hermione sends the birds at Ron*

Hermione raced down the corridor, her infamous bushy hair whipping behind her crazily, as she attempted to clear the flurry of the thoughts whizzing around her brain. Ron was hers not Lavenders, he'd always been hers. She'd thought of them as a couple afraid to admit their feelings for each other. Ha! She'd been wrong on that front, as the sight of Ron snogging Lavender had just proved. Hermione felt vulnerable, her heart raw and beating erratically. She skidded to a halt outside the Room of Requirement, breathing in sharply, and began to pace. 'I need a place to hide. I need somewhere to hide from the world.' she thought fiercely, holding in her tears until a door appeared before her.

Hurrying inside, she allowed the teardrops to cascade freely down her face as she wept for her crushed dreams that featured Ron and herself as a couple, no fights, no heartbreak- just them against the world.
"Granger?"
Hermione's puffy eyes flashed up, taking in for the first time the sight of the room she'd asked for. It was definitely a place to hide- just not in the sense she'd meant. Towers of discarded (and no doubt banned, her inner prefect sniped) objects surrounded her, and in their midst was-
"Malfoy?"
Draco Malfoy stood before her, his blonde hair uncharacteristically messy, as though he'd been raking his hands through it in despair. 'We must look a right pair," Hermione mused wryly, "Draco Malfoy with untidy hair and me crying!"

For a moment, Malfoy seemed unable to comprehend the situation. He gaped at the bedraggled Gryffindor before him, his normal mask discarded in favour of an expression of extreme confusion.
"Granger, what on Earth are you doing here?" Hermione glowered at him, at which point Malfoy flinched but quickly regained his composure enough to add, "And why are you crying?"
Wiping her cheeks roughly with her cardigan's threadbare sleeve, Hermione snapped, "Gosh, Malfoy, how observant. Clearly Slytherins aren't picked for their brains."
To her surprise, the boy threw his head back and laughed. "Hell no, Granger. Otherwise how would Crabbe or Goyle've got in?"
Hermione shocked herself by chuckling along with him automatically, justifying the action to her scolding mind with 'Well, it was funny". She grinned at the Slytherin before her, whose lips curved up slightly in response.

"I suppose that's true!" she replied, then, a little more seriously, "And to answer your question, I was crying because I just saw Ron-"
"Sucking the face off Lavender Brown." Malfoy finished for her. Hermione nodded sheepishly. "Far be it for me to compliment you, Granger, but the Weaselbee has no taste. Why else would he pick Lavender Brown over you? I mean, at least he could have a halfway decent conversation with you, whereas Brown…" he trailed off.
The girl before him cocked her head, brown eyes boring into him, slightly narrowed and alive with curiosity. "But, I'm a mudblood, Malfoy," she stated, emphasizing the hateful slur.
She expected satisfaction or even pleasure but her feelings towards his response were anything but. Malfoy gripped his wrist tightly (a gesture she didn't fully understand at the time), and his eyes pooled regret and pain and self-hatred. When he spoke, his usually sneering voice was rasping and strangled.
"Don't call yourself that! I- I haven't thought of muggleborns like that for ages, it's just… my dad-" he broke off abruptly as the unnerved girl placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

"It's alright," she breathed, "I forgive you." It was a humbling moment, Hermione thought as she reflected on the night's events later, being in a position of power over tough, armoured, emotionless Draco Malfoy, seeing him shield-less and vulnerable in remorse for his past actions. It was only then she realised she didn't know why he'd been in the Room of Requirement.

DMHGDMHGDMHG

The next day, Hermione arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast half an hour early, knowing that Malfoy generally ate earlier than his Slytherin peers. She spotted him easily, his neat blonde hair almost white in its paleness contrasting against the dark wall the Slytherin table was stationed against. He sat alone, a plate of food before him though he wasn't eating- instead he was gazing at the bewitched ceiling as though the light blue "sky" held some great mystery he wanted to uncover. His face was blank, scarily so, and when Hermione greeted him with a polite, "Good morning," he nearly jumped ten feet in astonishment.
"Granger?"
"Malfoy?" Hermione mimicked him, privately thinking this exchange was like de ja vu: it was almost identical to the previous night's.
"I-um-morning?"
"Yes…" Hermione allowed the word to trail off at the end before continuing, "I wanted to catch you before the rest of your housemates arrived and, um…"
"Fried you for daring to contaminate the Slytherin table with your filthy mudblood germs?" suggested Malfoy, smiling wryly.
Well..."Yes, exactly." the girl agreed, smirking. Who knew Draco Malfoy had a sense of humour?
Malfoy glanced up at her quizzically, one pale eyebrow arched. "And why exactly did you want to "catch me"?" he asked curiously.
"I wanted to thank you… um… you cheered me up last night." Hermione stated uncomfortably.
He blinked. "Oh. Okay." he muttered, "You're welcome, Granger."

The sound of students arriving for breakfast filled their ears and Hermione made to go over to the Gryffindor table, but Malfoy grabbed her arm tightly before she could move.
"And, Granger," he added, grinning, "Tell Potter that that ghastly Romilda Vane is planning on slipping him a love potion so he'll ask her to Slughorn's Christmas do. Don't say I told you, though, I don't want him to think I've gone soft… but no bloke deserves her going after them!"
The Gryffindor fought a smile and turned towards her own house's table, making a mental note to warn Harry about how a little bird had told her that Romilda Vane was planning to slip him a love potion...

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bookweasel