Heya, this is a oneshot of Dracos feelings for Hermione. There's a bit for every school year, and a little bit after. It's pretty much canon until the end of the big battle.
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, wish I did.
First year...
The first time he saw her, he could've sworn she was a Bullstrode or a Thandrew. One of those old pure blood families. She'd been sitting in one of the Hogwarts Express' small rooms; scouring her books for any information she could gain.
It had been the look of longing on her face that he'd loved. Someone who loved magic just as much as he did.
Later when they'd all gathered in the room before the Great Hall. He had spoken to Crabbe and Goyle, spoken about his longing to fulfil his families dream of being placed in Slytherin. He'd actually been thinking that he wouldn't mind being placed in whichever house she was placed in. As long as it wasn't Gryfindor; His father would kill him.
Once standing in the line, he paid close attention to every name that the McGonnagel lady called out. Wondering which one she'd step forward to.
"Granger, Hermione." The old witches voice rang across the hall.
Hermione thought Draco, what a lovely name. With a bated breath he watched as the hat was placed on her small head, almost falling down to her shoulders.
"Gryffindor!" The hat roared.
Draco sighed, he knew he'd never get placed into that house.
Second year...
Draco was running. He knew he shouldn't be, that Potter or Weasel might see him. But he had heard that Hermione was hurt, that she was the latest victim. He knew he'd said she should be next, that he'd told Crabbe and Goyle, but he'd only said that to distract them. He'd never really wished she would be next. Slowing down he reached the First Aid wing. Madame Pomfrey was by the door.
"Malfoy" She snapped, "What are you doing here?"
Quickly, he thought of an excuse, "I'm after some Firebrew potion. I-uh need some to help me get to sleep at night."
"Well speak to your head of house about that. I'm sure Snape knows where you can get some." The answer was clear, no admittance.
Draco left, his head hanging. "Get well soon." he whispered as he passed the door where she surely lay.
Third year...
All he could remember from the day when Buckbeak attacked was her. Her running towards him in shock as his arm was sliced open. He'd told everyone he was too injured to play Quiditch. He'd really just been hoping that she'd come over and ask if everything was alright.
She hadn't.
Fourth year...
Draco was sitting between Goyle and Crabbe in the stands of the TriWizard tournament. This event was quite boring. Nothing like the previous one where the champions had to steal eggs off dragons. All this event involved was the champions swimming underwater to find something.
Draco was so bored that he decided to take up an old past time. Granger Gazing; or Mudblood hunting as he explained to his 'friends'.
He knew that she'd be there, her best friend Potter was one of the champions. He'd also noticed Krum spending an increasing amount of time around her. Gazing swiftly through each row, he payed particular attention to those dressed in Red and Gold. His gaze swiftly passed the faces of many students; Weasley, Patil, Reventorth, Jones, Price, Weasley, Finnigan, Teacher, Weasley. With a sigh of exasperation he returned to the bottom of the rows. Maybe he had missed her?
With growing anxiety Draco continued to trace his gaze through the stands. Where was she? Suddenly very worried, Draco turned to his two companions.
"Goyle, Crabbe. Mind my seat." Without waiting for a reply he stormed out, hoping that he'd find her sitting behind the stadium. Maybe she was with the other Weasley? The thought repulsed him. Though it was better than thinking of her and Potter together.
After combing the back of the stands and the walk back to the main building, Draco returned to his seat just in time to see the first champion breach the surface of the water. It was Krum; With shock Draco registered that in Krums arms was Hermione.
In first year he'd lost her to that stupid house; Second year to Ron; Their third year Potter was the lucky one. Fourth year it turned out belonged to Krum. Draco made a pledge to himself that fifth year he would win the damsel.
Fifth year...
Draco was shaking with nerves. Professor Umbridge had just approached him about finding the location for Dumbledores army. He knew it was lead by Potter, he knew that she'd be there. He just prayed that she wasn't there when he arrived.
Sixth year...
Draco sat by the library door. All he wanted to do was to tell someone what he was doing, someone who could take him away from all this. He knew he couldn't do it. The one person he wanted to tell wouldn't help him though. From where he was sitting, he could see the blurred shape of Hermione and Weasel, probably laughing about the prank they were going to pull on him next.
Draco knew it was useless, he knew his next stop would have to be the room of requirements where he would have to get to work on the cabinets. He knew his time was coming close.
Seventh year...
Draco paced the Hogwarts Express, He was head boy, and he was busy trying to find the Head girl. He knew who it would be; Hermione Granger.
As he reached the end of the carriage, he saw her sitting alone by the window.
"Hullow" He said as he slid the door open. "Head girl I guess?" He asked, gesturing to the badge pinned to her chest.
"Draco, why all this civility? I'm a mudblood; I know this must pain you." Her face was drawn, hiding her inner thoughts.
"I've never thought of you as a mudblood. I only said that so no one would say anything worse." His voice was soft, and he found himself unable to look into her eyes; instead his eyes focused on her hands.
"Well this changes things." She whispered, brushing the hair from her eyes. Turning from him, she turned to look out the window. "It's strangely quiet outside the train." She murmured.
"What do you mean this changes things?" He quickly asked. "How?"
"Well obviously you like me." Her voice broke, "And, well, I'd never say this, But I like you too." Now she was also looking down at her hands.
Together their gazes both lifted from her small hands till they rested on each other. Slowly Draco leaned in till they were almost touching.
"Shall we?" He whispered, and then when their lips were mere inches apart Draco felt a shooting pain run up his left arm.
"Aahhh!" He cried out. Wrenching his body from the blankets that surrounded him. With surprise Draco realised he was not on the Hogwarts Express, that he would most likely never again be on that train. He was instead in his bedroom, deep within the Malfoy Manor. Looking down at his arm, Draco saw his dark mark glowing. The Dark Lord beckoned.
After the end...
As the last of the death eaters lay dyeing, a stray curse danced away. The curse slithered between two fighters, glancing past a still body. Before it reached it's target. Ron Weasley fell dead.
Hermione had been beside him, she had not turned until she had heard the cries of horror. Her lover was dead, as was her future. Tears glazed her eyes. The battle was won, and yet one of the heroes was gone. Turning she sought the death eater who had sent the curse, all she could see was death and mayhem, none of Voldemorts followers had survived.
Nearby Draco stood, he was wandless, and his face was even paler than usual. He gazed at Hermione as she fell by her lovers side, pulled him to her chest and whispered sweet pleas for life. Draco was shattered. When Hermione hurt, so did he. Carefully, so as to not arouse suspicion he went to her side, placing an arm over her shoulder. Trying to calm her hurt emotions. With regret he retreated as she pushed his arm away.
Turning to him she had shouted "You! It's your fault he's dead!" She shoved him in the chest; hard. Glaring at him, she continued to push the wandless man away. "You killed him! Didn't you? You sent the curse" The threatening tears were breaking. Through blurry eyes she watched as he showed his hands; empty. She saw him continually give evidence that he had no wand. That he was innocent. She didn't care; she blamed him.
Three days had passed, Draco stood a fair distance from the congregation. He knew she wouldn't welcome him, not yet. He watched as they lowered the coffin, a grieving Molly crying for her two lost sons. Hermione stood by the bereaved mothers side. She stared at the coffin, wishing she could bring back her best friend, believing she could.
2002
It was snowing as Draco hurried through the Dean forest. It made for something beautiful, but what he was chasing was even more so.
"Hermione" He shouted, "Please wait! I need to speak to you!" He'd come here because the Minister of Magic had wanted to speak to her urgently, Draco had gladly taken the job of finding her.
"Hermione, Please!" He was wishing maybe he hadn't.
As a white ball of snow flew towards him, all he could here was her troubled words. "Stop following me murderer."
Brushing the snow from his face, Draco tried to fight himself back to even ground. "I didn't kill him! I swear!" Draco picked up a clump of snow before lobbing it back at her.
"Ow!" She cried.
"Merlins beard!" He exclaimed, running to her side, "I didn't mean to hurt you." By now he had reached her, pulling out his wand to fix any scrapes he had caused. But as he slowed to a stop, a large clump of snow fell from the tree above.
"Got you" Hermione shouted, Once again waving her wand in the air, attracting more snow to the freezing Malfoy.
"Hermione" Draco shivered, "Minister Weasley would like to speak to you" His breath was gone once again as more snow was lobbed at him.
"Oh," She replied; Her happy mood suddenly vanished. "Well tell George I'll be there soon." She stared at him, "Well why are you still here? Go!"
"I'm going, I will. But I was just wondering if you would meet me at the Black Pumpkin shack for Butterbeer on Friday?" Draco couldn't just blame the snow for his wet hands now, he was so nervous.
"Maybe" she murmured, before quickly turning on the spot and disapparatng to the Ministry of Magic.
"Guess I won't be telling George anything." Draco wonder why Hermione had been so quick to disappear? Was this good news for her too?
Draco entered the small cafe, His face lit up as he saw her sitting by the window. It fell when he saw her dressed in black, and smoking. Grief knows no bounds.
Draco took the seat opposite her. "If my parents were teeth doctors, I wouldn't be smoking." His words were quiet, hoping to calm the raging girl.
"My parents are Dentists, and they're in Australia, they don't even know I exist." The constant threat of tears began to grow, Hermione was troubled.
"Well then let's go and find them." Draco held out his hand, waiting for her to agree; to follow.
She looked into his eyes, and it was the first time Draco ever saw acceptance in them.
"Fine..."
First steps...
His voice could be heard from one end of the manner to the other.
"She CANNOT marry a WEASLEY"
"Draco, even you said that you were good friends with George. You're just keeping old grudges, and you know it" His counterpart snapped back. Her voice softened "Now listen Syltania, We named your elder brother after a... Weasley... Ron. So we have NO issue with you marrying Arthtold. He's practically part of the family." The counterpart sounded happy, serene even.
"But the fact that she'll lose the name Draco for Weasley? Would you trade that?" Dracos voice was breaking.
"Draco, Please don't ask that." Sadness filled his counterparts voice. The answer was clear; Draco was lucky that Ron died.
Second step...
Draco looked at the sheet in the Daily Prophet; Wedding Announcements.
Emily Jean Malfoy and Harold Fred Weasley were married today at the St. Bosco Church of Godrics Hollow. They were joined by many loving guests including the famous Boy Who Lived; now aged 79. The couple are the children of esteemed Healer Frederick Ronald Weasley and Lucyinda Prewett, and the deputy Minister for Magic Nymphadora Albus Dean and Hogwarts teacher Ronald Wilfred Malfoy.
Draco had found it hard enough coping with a Weasley for a daughter, now he had a granddaughter with that name. As long as Ronalds sons chose to have more sons, the line would prevail.
Deaths doors...
He was sitting by her grave, their Great-Grandchildren had just visited. It was the day before Jean Katherine Malfoy was to start Hogwarts. He wished she could be here, that she hadn't taken the job in the department of mysteries. He simply missed her.
He knew their life had been long together, he knew he could not complain. So he simply lay himself down by her grave, and waited for the snow to bring them together again.
Please R&R.