Thin Line Between Love and Hate
"Please do no taint my name by having me hear it roll off your filthy tongue," Malfoy drawled lazily at her, a smirk playing across his lips. Hermione spotted them twitch as he refrained from what would most likely be named a true smile. All this bickering with Hermione was honestly beginning to feel... Well... Like enjoyable banter. Some could go so far as to call it flirting even. Bloody hell. What is happening to the world?
"You think you're funny Malfoy, but you're just mean." Her retort was not nearly harsh, nor cutting enough to get the response that the Malfoy of so many previous years might have wanted. Now though, it only made him yearn for more of her mellow insults.
"I like to think of it as healthy bravado, just to keep all in line; make sure no one forgets their place. I'm sure you'd agree one must brave the job." His shrewd eyes were pinned on her own, provoking her. She would not rise however.
If Hermione had learnt anything during the War, it was that there are many different shades of grey between black and white. Professor Snape had been living proof. She was not about to let that become a dead truth.
"You know what? I think it's all just talk, Draco." Hermione began coyly. Draco stood back, crossing his arms and raising his brows at her lazily.
"Explain."
Hermione felt a thrill of something surge through her. Harry had recalled the exact look on Draco's face that night Dumbledore died. She had seen what she presumed was the same look of regret, fear and helplessness on his face back at the Malfoy Manor when Bellatrix tortured her. He hadn't wanted them to die. In fact, he courageously lied on their behalf to protect Harry. Draco wasn't the same cold-hearted git he had once promised to become. And Hermione was going to prove it.
"I think there's more to you than you care to show." She stepped forwards, closer to the blonde haired, silver eyed fallen angel before her. "I think..." She was inches away from him now. "You have far more in common with Gryffindors than you care to expose."
"Rubbish." Draco replied, his breathing more shallow, despite his best attempts to remain calm. Since when was Hermione Granger so... Sly? Her lips tilted upwards, stretching across her shiny teeth. This wasn't the usual carefree smile he'd come to recognise of her during the past year of being Head Boy and Girl together. It was the smile of... Dare he think it...?
The smile of... A Slytherin.
Many of those in Hermione and Draco's year had decided to redo their seventh year. The War had caused too much a fearful distraction for school to gain them much. Now however, was a fresh start. Houses were suddenly being undermined by the new school policy - everyone and anyone may befriend, seat with, even venture into the common rooms, of which ever Houses they wish. It was a rule that many Slytherin's had been less than impressed with.
V
Why was it, Head Boy and Girl had to share a dormitory? Hermione had wondered the same thing all year. Not only was Draco usually in the worst mood ever most mornings, he often came back well after curfew, made a complete racket when he brought back his 'girlfriends', and always, always got away with it. What teacher really had the heart to give the poor boy detention? His father was in Azkaban, his mother on the verge of losing the Manor... Although, losing the Manor was actually a blessing, Draco often thought. Too many horrific memories.
However, whilst most of the time, Hermione felt this sympathy too, it was times like this she could have cursed him.
"Where would be the sense in making you a promise, if I don't plan on keeping it, Granger?" He was trying her patience simply for the sake of it now. He had known full well that they had to lead the Prefect meeting every Friday evening. In total, he had probably made it on time about twice the whole year. They now had merely a fortnight until they would be heading back to London on the Hogwarts Express for the very last time.
"You said you would be here on time this time, Malfoy!" Hermione scolded, her patience wearing thin.
"Indeed. And?"
There was no way of reasoning with him. "You're late." Hermione finally muttered icily. Draco snorted.
"You can't be late if you turn up at the time you planned to turn up at."
Hermione closed her eyes, breathing harshly through her nose to calm herself down.
"You planned to show up late?" She mocked sarcastically, raising a brow at him.
"Pretty much." He smirked smugly.
"Just get in there." She ordered, opening the portrait hole and following him through. Once they reached Professor McGonagal's office for the meeting, someone had charmed a paper swan to fly through the air out of boredom and Draco caught it between his forefinger and thumb.
"For you." He murmured, passing it to Hermione. Typical Slytherin charmer, she thought, shaking her head, ignoring the peace offering. Only last night, she had told him he was like a Gryffindor. She definitely had her work cut out, if she was to prove that one right.
"Now, I apologise for our lateness. Mr Malfoy here clearly thought his date was more important than our meeting." Hermione began the meeting waspishly. A tall, haughty looking boy by the name of Blaise Zabini that Hermione had grown quite fond of during the year, grinned, and piped up "Hell yeah!"
Well he was Draco's best friend, so what did she really expect?
"I apologise for our rudeness." Draco interrupted before Hermione could continue. "Someone's a little crabby this evening. Most likely down to jealousy but really, she should try and control herself during professional gatherings."
Hermione's cheeks were a rosy pink shade as she turned to glare at Draco. He shrugged innocently but there was a triumphant gleam in his eyes.
"Now, we have a fortnight left, and have yet to plan the leaver's celebration. Does anyone have any idea what they would like to do to celebrate?" Hermione seated herself on the only free chair, leaving Draco to stand.
"What about-"
"It must be held at Hogwarts, no outside visitors may be permitted to join and there will be a drink regulation." Hermione added hastily before Blaise could make any typical suggestions. He had already been in trouble three times in the past month for trying to smuggle in his Beauxbattons girlfriend to Hogwarts. Professor McGonagal almost clawed his face off with her cat-talons the last time.
In the end, they decided on a Ball. Hermione felt a little put out by this. She would have loved to go to the ball with Ron, but they had suffered a sad, mutual break up halfway through the year, having realised the only love they felt for one another was as good friends. Hermione hadn't been with anyone else since then, but had found an unusual comfort in talking it through with Draco. His motives were obviously for selfish reasons, such as triumph at knowing 'Weaselbee' was hurting. But Hermione hadn't cared, so long as he was listening to her. It's how they first came, well... not friends, but almost civil. Most of the time.
"Just so you know Drake, my answer's yes." A thick, rough female's voice sounded as they each headed out of the door.
"Er... Whatever you say Hannah." Draco replied idly, catching Hermione's irritated glare.
"It's Anna!" She hissed in his ear as she passed him through the door, into the corridor.
He followed her down the corridor and Hermione, admitting defeat, slowed allowing him to catch up.
"Seriously Draco, you have absolutely no tact whatsoever when it comes to girls." She muttered waspishly. She could sense his amusement and refused to look at him as the strolled along side by side.
"I was doing just fine, I'll have you know." He didn't sound the slightest bit bothered that he had mixed up the girl's name with a previous 'date' from only the last week.
"Draco, you didn't even know her name!" Hermione insisted.
"Well you seem awfully bothered by this little mix up." Draco provoked, loving how easily he could rile her up.
"I happen to be fairly friendly with Anna actually. And you do realise how pompous and stuck up you sound right now, don't you?"
"I happen to be fairly friendly with Anna too... Actually, only last week-"
"Spare me the details." Hermione replied in disgust.
"So, a ball, eh?" Draco's deep, drawling voice began, changing the subject.
"I guess so." They were strolling passed their Transfiguration room by this time. "I'm going to really miss this place, you know..." Hermione whispered as they both paused by the door. Her sudden burst of annoyance at Draco evaporated as she contemplated the fact that in two weeks, she may never step foot in the school again.
He touched her arm briefly. "I know." His reasons were different to hers, but at the same time, probably almost exactly the same. He would miss Hogwarts for the familiarity, the escapism, the life he'd been able to make for himself away from his father. She would miss it for the friends she'd made, the fun she'd had, the magic she'd learnt. But at the same time, both would miss the acceptance it offered them most. Hermione for her blood status, Draco for the mistakes he'd made and tried to put right.
"I'll definitely miss the memories this place holds... One of my favourites would have to be when Mad Eye turned you into a ferret..." Hermione teased lightly, seeing Draco's pale cheeks tinge a light scarlet.
"Whatever." He retorted. Hermione found it sweet actually, how he still got embarrassed by that, despite everything else he'd been through and faced. He's still just a boy underneath.
"Don't worry. I've had issues with animal transformations myself." She grinned guilty, remembering.
"Go on." Draco urged her. They were on the moving staircase by this time. It was quite dark and the enchanted lanterns lit to preserve some light. It made for a dim, romantic setting that Hermione would have given anything to share with Ron. Or at least, she would have done at the start of the year. By now, she was over it.
"You remember second year? During the attacks on students...? It's the first time I made a polyjuice potion." She paused, not knowing whether she ought to continue.
"Yeah, and everyone thought it was Potter." Draco snorted suddenly. "As if he would be that brave." Hemione raised her brows at him.
"More like you would be too cowardly to have done it." Not that she'd have wanted anyone to have attacked people, but she knew Draco hated being called a coward and it gave her a guilty sort of pleasure knowing she could get to him.
"I prefer the phrase, not being so stupid actually. Not like you Gryffindor's, who are down right reckless sometimes. Wasn't it Ginny Weasley who was involved in all that drama? Slytherins... Well... We're just smarter."
Ignoring his jibe, knowing it was all just talk, Hermione continued. "Well, we stole hairs from your friends... Harry and Ron turned into Crabbe and Goyle. We... Well, we wanted to question you." She trailed off, watching his face twist into a look of utter surprise.
"Me?" He demanded. Hermione was suddenly grateful to see he didn't look angry. Though the occasions were rare, she rather enjoyed this mellow Draco.
"We'd been... Keeping an eye on you. Listening to you. You said things that made you look quite suspicious to be honest, Draco." Hermione explained as if to a child.
"Yeah... But to think I would actually do that!" He continued to protest. Hermione rolled her eyes at his indignant tone. "Like I said... It's all talk with you, isn't it Draco?"
He gritted his teeth to prevent a retort he would most likely regret. Hermione often opted for physical muggle fights as opposed to magical wizard duels. He'd learnt the hard way many times that year and had no wish to be taught that again.
"So..." He hastily changed the subject. "What was that about your animal transfiguration?" He wasn't expecting the surge of colour flooding across her cheeks. Surely it couldn't have been that bad?
"Well... Harry and Ron managed to transform into Crabbe and Goyle for an hour to question you... I-I mixed up the hairs of the person I wanted to become and... Ended up half-transforming into a cat."
At this, Draco burst into a loud, infectious laugh. It was a beautiful sound, Hermione thought dejectedly. It was something she hadn't gotten to hear often, and as trying as their acquaintance had been that year, she had begun to enjoy the sound of his laughter, the smile across his face...
"Equipped even with a furry face and tail." She summed up, allowing him this one chance to truly laugh at her expense. After all, once she'd gotten over the initial shock, she'd allowed herself a chuckle or two at her own mistake.
They were headed up yet another staircase by this time.
"You know, you can be a real arse sometimes, Draco. But it's moments like these that I see you for someone other than the foul, loathesome little ferret you pretend to be..." Hermione murmured, the stairs slowly moving them towards yet another staircase. They would soon be at the top, and she knew, or else, was inclined to believe that once they retired to their beds and woke up in the morning, this would be just another one of their many 'forgotten' conversations that year. The thought filled her with regret and... The slightest disappointment.
"Well, to be honest, I still am all that." Draco drawled, rolling his eyes. The stairs lurched as it connected to the highest landing, sending Draco almost subconsciously shooting an arm out to balance Hermione. "I mostly only talk to you because it takes my mind off my own less pleasant thoughts. It's purely a selfish reason, of course."
"Of course." Hermione nodded, slightly breathless as he leaned in closer.
"No other reason." Draco's eyes burnt into her own.
"None at all." Hermione dare not blink for fear she'd miss any hint of more cross his face. His face, all bar his eyes of course, remained stoic a few moments longer. Who was he kidding, he thought to himself savagely. He'd grown to enjoy the fact that during those rare moments, Hermione would see him for someone other than who he had been determined to be. Of course, she may make assumptions that it made him more of a 'Gryffindor', but he knew otherwise. It made him more of a guy who was completely and utterly... Whipped.
"I'm glad you agree." Draco muttered finally, peeling his burning eyes away from Hermione's face. She felt like someone had literally cast an aqua spell across her body. "Now... I have a date to prepare for."
Hermione wasn't sure she'd heard correct.
"A date? With who? Malfoy, it's after curfew, what are you playing at?" The moment between them had been broken, as it so often was. They were back to the bickering.
"Anna." He replied, just as he was about to turn and head back down the stairs they had just taken a lifetime to climb. Hermione was truly glad she didn't have her wand in her pocket by this time. She knew she wouldn't have been able to resist cursing him if she had. How could he make her feel like that? They were always at tether ends - one moment bickering like an old married couple, the next, able to enjoy a sweet, hushed conversation... Only for him to go running back to the next wench he had on the go. It truly wasn't fair.
He'd even gone so far as to walk her back to their portrait hole, she thought dejectedly. Why did he have to behave like such a... Gryffindor sometimes? He didn't even realise it!
"Still going out with her then?" Hermione questioned as casually as she could, despite feeling as though her stomach was falling. Draco paused mid step and raised a brow, the smirk playing around his lips.
"It appears so, yes." He replied confidently. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Didn't think she'd be your type." She muttered quietly, not entirely sure he was to hear.
"Not jealous, I hope..." Truthfully, Anna wasn't Draco's type. Too clingy, too whiney, no where near smart enough. But at least he wasn't bored when he was with her.
"Absolutely not." Hermione replied, an edge of disgust seeping into her voice. She couldn't help the small flush in her cheeks though. Draco spotted it.
"Good. Because our date extends to well after curfew. Not that you'll be grassing us in." Draco goaded, awaiting her reaction eagerly.
Hermione's lips tightened slightly. She had almost begun to look forward to the idea of proving how very Gryffindor-like he could be. But when he mentioned dates, all she wanted to do was hex him, even better, curse him. Too much type spent with him, she thought derisively, as she glanced at the tall, blonde boy beside her. Wanting to inflict pain is a Slytherin characteristic, right?
"And why shouldn't I grass you up? You've just admitted you'll be breaking the rules - to the Head girl of all people!" Hermione replied slightly more sharply than she'd intended to. Another thing Draco hadn't failed to notice.
"Ah. But you forget that I am Head boy. Besides, aren't Gryffindor's supposed to be honoured for their loyalty blah blah blah?" Typical Slytherin. Manipulative little snake.
As much as it pained her to admit, he was right. She wouldn't be grassing him up.
She tried knitting. She tried helping the House Elf clean their private common room. She tried rereading her History Of Magic essay. She even tried sleeping. Nothing seemed to calm her agitation.
"Draco! Where on Earth have you been?" Hermione burst as soon as the portrait hole opened. Draco stood before her, looking surprised.
"My date. Remember?" He looked at her as if she had gone mad. He had after all, already told her where he would be going.
"Have you realised how late it is?" Hermione continued. "Get to bed. Now." She stormed, pointing towards his sleeping quarters.
"Yes, Mother."
Something cracked in Hermione then. She wasn't his Mother. She wasn't even his friend! What she truly wanted...
"You know what, I've had it Draco." She shook her head, her breathing coming heavy as her she attempted to stomp passed him, contemplating kneeing him in the groin just for good measure. Before she could do so however, she felt a rough hand grip tightly across her wrist.
"So help me, Granger." With that, Hermione found her back hit a hard surface roughly. She winced but it sounded more like a pleasurable moan as the boy who had frustrated, amused, infuriated and completely stolen her heart that year caught her parted lips between his own. Though hesitant at first, feeling the unfamiliar torso press firmly against her body, Hermione soon felt her whole body shudder before slumping forwards into him, Draco's steady hands gripping her waist with a control that Hermione could never have exerted during that particular moment. All she knew was that she was now allowing the one person who she had grudgingly loathed since their first year run his tongue across her lower lip, let his fingers graze across bare skin just below the hem of her shirt.
"Draco..." Eventually, he pulled apart from her lips, and rested his forehead against her own. He was taller than her, by quite a few inches, and had a controlled, firm manner of holding her that just wasn't in Ron's nature at all. It was different to anything Hermione had ever felt, and also, a considerable amount more exciting. If it wasn't for how her friends would react.
"Draco... This... This shouldn't have happened..." She tried to force his arms to relax from encompassing her whole body between them, but he either refused, or was oblivious.
"Why the hell not?" He whispered sharply. If it wasn't for her having been actively searching for it, Hermione might have missed the tiny flicker of hurt cross his eyes.
"Harry and Ron... They will be furious..."
"I don't give a damn what anyone else thinks." Draco rolled his eyes. He sounded as breathless as Hermione, but his external behavior was a far cry from the hysteria of emotions that were bubbling up inside her. Perhaps it was a Slytherin trait. Control. When used for bad purposes, it was a vice. But it could so easily be seen as a virtue, particularly in their current situation.
"Don't you care about how they would feel, knowing? Our friends would hate it."
"So? It's got nothing to do with them, this is about our happiness, not theirs." He didn't understand Hermione's reasoning at all. Or maybe he simply didn't care.
After a moment, Hermione sighed. "Quite a selfish way of looking at it, Draco." It wasn't that she didn't want him, she did. But true to her Gryffindor nature, Hermione hated the idea of hurting her friends through something that she alone wanted.
"Hey, I'm a Slytherin, remember? We care about what we want ourselves more than what other people would want."
"I know." Why couldn't she be more like Draco? It may save the enormous guilt seeping into her system.
"And I personally think it's the best approach to something like this. You're not honestly telling me you'd throw away anything we might have, just because Potty and Weaslbee would throw a hissy? I'm shocked, Grange. I always thought you were braver than that."
Oh, he was sneaky, Hermione thought. He'd somehow managed to use one of the Slytherin qualities to actually fuel a Gryffindor one.
She was silent for several moments. Draco's forehead resting on her own. His breath on her face. His lips millimeters from her own.
Maybe Slytherin and Gryffindor weren't so incompatible after all...
V
This is really closely linked to my other story 'Catch Me If You Can'. I was going to use it for that story, but this plot didn't really fit, so I worked it as a one-shot instead :))
Good or Bad? Let me know ;D