This is my second sad attempt at writing a story. Hopefully this one will
actually be finished. This time I have a little trick up my sleeve,
though. My beta, Andrea, who will not only be proofing my chapters, but
helping me out with ideas and such. The rating is probably too high for
this story, but I figured I'd rather be safe than sorry. ::shrugs:: Oh
well. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this, please don't forget to review!
A figure sat curled up against a huge stone wall, watching her friends as they goofed around on the school grounds. Her school robes wrapped tightly around her, she pulled up her knees until they touched her chest and rested her chin on them. Her two best friends had become popular in the last year, what with Harry's defeat of Lord Voldemort. And while Hermione knew Harry and Ron meant well, inviting her along on all their escapades, she also knew that they were more than likely to hang around the hordes of girls that never seemed to leave their sides. She sighed. She missed them. The days, even just last year, when they were inseparable. A trio of best friends.
"There is no a clearer manifestation of pure evil than teachers giving assignments over holiday breaks," said Ron indignantly to the people standing around Harry and him. The girls all giggled. They were discussing the fact that the N.E.W.T.s were given at the end of this year and undoubtedly would the teachers assign the seventh years plenty of homework during the Christmas break. Hermione must have drifted off into thought again, because the next time she tuned in, Harry and Ron were talking about their second year, when they had tried to fly Ron's father's enchanted Ford Anglia to school after missing the train. "So we got in the car and drove out of the parking lot of King's Cross Station-" Ron began.
"You know how to drive?!" squealed a girl. One of Harry and Ron's admirers, no doubt, Hermione thought with a pang.
"He knows how to crash," Harry muttered. Ron elbowed his best friend, grinning, eager to continue with the story. Harry grinned back. Hermione knew they loved the attention. She looked on while they continued with their embellished story.
She knew she looked quite pathetic, sitting there in the fetal position because she was feeling left out, but she didn't particularly care at the moment. She heaved another heavy sigh, and heard snickering coming from her left. She knew exactly who it was. She looked up and, sure enough, saw the three people she most loathed: Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. "Bloody hell," she muttered under her breath. "Stupid git." She slid her legs back down to the grass and crossed them in front of her. Her robes slid down to the ground, forming a shield around her. She crossed her arms over her chest and tossed the offenders what she hoped was her most scathing glance. Go away, she willed them. Instead of adhering to her wishes, they began to approach her.
"Oh, is Miss Granger feeling left out?" Malfoy asked in a mockingly sympathetic tone.
"Shut up, Malfoy. For your information, I am merely out here enjoying the fresh air. And studying."
"So that's why you were sitting all curled up, staring wistfully at Potty and the Weasel," he said, clasping his hands together and bringing them up to the side of his face in a poor attempt to mimic Hermione.
Hermione clenched her teeth and fists before she replied. "It's none of your business how I was sitting, how I am sitting, or how I will be sitting, you bloody ferret."
"Ooh, the temper is flaring. Better get out of the way, mates," Malfoy said to Crabbe and Goyle, who were snickering and nodding, "before the Mudblood pulls out that wand and does some highly advanced magic for which she'll be expelled." Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy laughed at the preposterous but all too delicious thought of Hermione being expelled from Hogwarts.
Hermione couldn't take it anymore. Vaguely aware that there were probably teachers hanging around somewhere, and that Harry and Ron were probably watching (that last fact was part of what made her do it); Hermione got to her feet and ran at Malfoy, trying with all her might to knock him over. She succeeded, and soon Hermione was standing over him, hands on her hips. "I suggest you learn to control that mouth of yours, Malfoy," she spat his own name in his face, "before you end up beaten to a pulp by a girl. And a Muggle-born at that." She kicked him in the ribs before stalking off toward the castle to applause by Harry, Ron, and their admirers.
As Hermione stormed across the castle towards the Gryffindor dormitories, she heard her name being called from behind her.
"Hermione! Hermione, wait up!" It was Harry and Ron. She kept walking, not looking back. She kept her head high. As much as she didn't want to admit it, what Malfoy had said about her feeling left out was true. She had been afraid to say something to Harry and Ron for fear of them completely rejecting her. She had never had any other real friends besides the two boys, and she didn't know what she would do without them. But it was starting to feel like it was about time to tell her best friends how she felt.
They finally cornered her near the Fat Lady. "Hermione!" Ron called, leaning against Harry and panting. They had raced all the way to Gryffindor Tower. "That was bloody brilliant," he wheezed.
"Brilliant was it?" Hermione asked, whirling around to face them. Her robes spun out behind her. Ron and Harry looked at each other. They had never seen Hermione so mad before.
"Hermione, what's the matter? You-"
"I'll tell you what's the matter," she said. "I'm sick to death of being left out of everything you two do. I'm glad you defeated You-Know-Who, Harry, really, but this new popularity of yours has changed everything. I haven't really had any other friends here besides you two. And Ginny. So how do you think I feel when I'm stuck sitting around on the side while you two go gallivanting off to who-knows-where with your little groupies?"
"We don't leave you out, Hermione. We still stick together," Harry replied softly.
"Yeah," Ron chimed in. "We still invite you to come places with us and everything."
"You two really are daft, aren't you?" she asked them, shaking her head. "Ethereal," she told the portrait, and as it swung open, she stepped into the Gryffindor common room with Harry and Ron following closely behind. "Even after you 'invite me' to come along (something which you never used to need to do, I might point out), you still ignore me and leave me sitting on my own while you go off with all your little girlfriends. I'm sick of it. And I miss the way we used to be," Hermione sighed. "What?" she asked all the people who had been in the common room when she came in yelling. She heaved a sigh of frustration and stormed off to her dormitory, leaving Harry and Ron to wonder what had just happened.
Hermione, meanwhile, threw herself on her bed and began to cry. Parvati and Lavender, who had been in the dormitory, giggling over some magazine, approached her cautiously. "Hermione? Are you alright?" Lavender asked softly. All she got in return were some muffled noises coming from Hermione's pillow. Parvati and Lavender looked at each other and left the dormitory, giving Hermione some time alone.
About ten minutes later, Hermione got up and wiped her face clean of all her tears. She went over to the mirror and stood there, scrutinizing herself. She had changed a lot from her first year at Hogwarts. Back then, she had bushy, frizzy hair and big buckteeth. She was short and always had her nose stuck in a book. Now, six years later, her appearance and even her habits had changed. At least, in her opinion. Which apparently didn't count for much when it all came down to it. She had colored and de-frizzed her hair so instead of being a mousy brown bush that sat on her head, it was a darker brown with blonde highlights that fell to her shoulders in waves. Her teeth were smaller, since fourth year when Malfoy had so generously blown them up for her and she'd had Madam Pomfrey shrink them a tad too much. She smiled at the memory. She'd also grown a little taller since then, and the school uniform she wore under her robes flattered her figure a little more. And she didn't spend her entire life in books. Just most of it. She didn't think herself unattractive anymore. In fact, if she might say so herself, she was sort of pretty, especially when she smiled.
All too soon, though, the smile turned back into a frown. Too bad there's no one at this whole school who agrees with me, however. Except maybe Ginny. But Ginny doesn't count. Hermione sighed again. Just once, she thought, I wish someone would see me as more than just a bookworm with frizzy hair. I wish someone would see me the way I see myself. She shook her head. As if that would ever happen. Disgusted with herself, she turned away from the mirror and, grabbing a Muggle book she'd brought with her, ventured back down to the common room. As soon as she stepped into the room everyone else fell silent. "Oh for heaven's sake," she muttered, glancing around for Harry and Ron. They were nowhere to be seen. They must have gone up to their dormitories. Hermione stepped out of the portrait hole and headed down the hall. She was looking for a place where she could sit and read without interruptions. She thought about going to the library, but realized that Harry and Ron could still find her. Not to mention Malfoy, who would take great pleasure in finding her alone. Where else could she go? The Room of Requirement! She thought suddenly. The very same place where Harry had illegally taught a group of twenty-eight their Defense Against the Dark Arts spells during fifth year when they were taught by a truly dreadful teacher who only allowed them to learn the subject through reading books. Hermione immediately went towards the seventh floor and the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. When she got to the tapestry, she found a door in the wall across from it. "That's strange," she muttered. She thought the Room of Requirement only appeared after walking in front of the wall three times while thinking of what was needed. She shrugged and pushed open the door, walking right in.
Two steps in, she stopped dead in her tracks and her mouth fell open. There, sitting at a table with his back to the door, his body wracked with what looked like sobs, was none other than Draco Malfoy. Unsure of what to do, Hermione closed the door and slowly and quietly approached Draco, much in the same way she would approach one of Hagrid's creatures. She gently cleared her throat as she neared him. "Malfoy?" she whispered.
Draco's head shot up as he looked around. He quickly wiped his eyes and sneered when he saw Hermione. "What are you doing here, Granger?" he asked with great distaste.
"I came looking for a place to read," she held up her book, "and when I got here I saw you here. What were you doing? Are you ok?" She guessed it must be her inquisitive nature, but she wasn't quite sure why she was concerned about why Malfoy was in the Room of Requirement crying.
"None of your business, you know-it-all," Draco replied, his face flushed with what Hermione could only guess was embarrassment.
She shook her head angrily and clicked her tongue at him. "You know, I just came up here to read my book in peace, and I find you in here, sobbing your head off for whatever reason. I swear, I try and try, but nothing I do is ever good enough for anyone." Feeling the tears start to well up in her eyes again, Hermione turned her back on Draco and began to stomp toward the door. Just as she was about to close the door behind her, she heard a response to her mumbled angry statements.
"So I was right," Draco was saying. Hermione stopped, her back still to him, listening. "The mighty Hermione Granger is feeling left out of the Unstoppable Three."
She slowly turned back around. "I didn't think you even knew I had a first name, let alone what it was," she commented.
"I know a lot more than you think I do. I know about the crush you've had on Potter for the past three years. There're a lot of things I know that you don't think I know or don't want me to."
"Ok, Malfoy. I'll bite. Why do you know all these things? And why are you telling me?"
Draco shrugged. "I just thought it might be about time to put some of those old grudges and such behind us. What do you say, Granger?"
"I say I'm still confused as to what's going on here." She stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her. She sat down at the table across from Draco and stared him down. "I don't understand this at all. Why are you throwing this at me? And what was going on with you earlier?"
"I can't believe I'm about to admit this," Draco mumbled under his breath. Hermione was able to catch what he said and raised an eyebrow. "Especially to you." He looked her square in the eye and raised his voice to a normal speaking level. "I'm jealous of you, Granger."
"Ha! Why would you, of all people be jealous of me? You're a Malfoy, you're a Pureblood, you're rich and powerful. Bloody hell, you've even got two goons who are willing to do your bidding at the drop of a hat. What could I possibly have that you could be jealous of?"
"You think you know everything, don't you?" Draco asked, pounding his fists on the table and standing up. He ran a hand through his hair and left his hand on his head for a couple of minutes before answering.
For some reason, Hermione hadn't noticed until just now how much Draco had changed in the past seven years. He had started first year a scrawny kid with slicked back, white-blond hair, and a snarl to match. At seventeen, his hair was not slicked back anymore. It was much shorter and fell on his head softly, spiking out a bit (probably with the help of some kind of hair gel, Hermione guessed) at the top. It was also a little darker. Oh, it was still the extremely light blond it had always been, but now it was more blond than white, something which was different. Also, Hermione noticed, Draco was not scrawny anymore. He was, in fact, far from it. While he hadn't matured mentally from when he was eleven, he had certainly matured physically. He had grown into a tall, husky young man. Even under the Hogwarts sweater vest and robes that he wore, Hermione could see that he was well built.
"You don't know anything about me," Draco hissed at her, breaking her out of her thoughts. He paused and looked at her for a moment. She could feel a blush rising in her cheeks and cursed herself. "What are you blushing for?"
"N- Nothing. What were you saying? I don't know anything about you? Well, then, please, enlighten me." She crossed her legs on the side of her chair, and then crossed her arms in front of her chest, gesturing for Draco to continue on with his statement.
"You ask me what you could have that I, a rich, powerful Malfoy don't have. And you call yourself smart. Everyone calls you smart." Draco snorted. "You may be good at your studies, but when it comes to everyday matters, you are as clueless as they come. The name Malfoy comes with a price, my dear Miss Granger. Sure, I'm rich and powerful and a Pureblood. I'm not bad looking, either, if I say so myself." Hermione snorted, trying not to betray the fact that she had been thinking that same thing mere moments before. Draco shot her a dirty look. "But the one thing that is valued so much by you, that you have in abundance, is something that no Malfoy has ever truly had. And for that, I envy you." He paused again and looked at Hermione. She still had no idea what he was talking about, and apparently he knew it. "Love, Granger. I'm talking about love. And friendship. That sort of thing." Hermione opened her mouth to point out that he had Crabbe and Goyle, but Draco would not let her speak. "And don't you even think about saying that I have those two daft idiots Crabbe and Goyle. They're not friends. They're, as you so kindly put it, goons who are willing to do pretty much whatever I ask them to do. I could never have a relationship with either of them like you have with Potter and Weasley. For that, I envy you."
Hermione snorted again. "A lot you know, Malfoy. You're not as smart as you think you are either. The 'Unstoppable Three,' as you put it, is no more. Those two gits have left me-" Hermione stopped abruptly, ashamed at what she had just admitted.
Draco's face lit up. "Aha! So I was right, what I said out on the grounds. You are feeling left out of your little group with Potty and the Weasel. Are they spending too much time with their girlfriends for your taste? And you're feeling like they don't understand you anymore?"
Hermione clenched her teeth again, and uncrossed her arms and legs. She turned to the table and buried her face in her arms. She could not believe she had let it slip to Malfoy that he was right. She'd never hear the end of it. Hermione looked up abruptly at the feel of a hand on her arm, right into Draco's cool blue eyes.
"Don't worry, Granger. I won't be telling anyone what we discuss in this room. Just like I expect you not to divulge anything, either. Anything that is ever said in this room between the two of us will not be spoken of anywhere else unless we are quite sure we are alone."
There was something about the tone of Draco's voice that made Hermione sure she would never disobey what he said. She nodded. "Thank you," she muttered.
"You may have formed your own ideas about me during the past seven years, and some of your opinion may be true, but one thing I am not, Miss Granger, is stupid," Draco informed her, still staring into her eyes. "I would not go around boasting the secrets of others, especially those who know secrets of mine."
Again Hermione nodded. "So I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you that not only were you right (and I'm sorry for attacking you), but what you said made me think. And I proceeded to get into a row with Harry and Ron."
"You told them how you felt, and they didn't understand," Draco said knowingly. "They couldn't see why you were feeling left out; after all, they invited you on all their outings and such.
"The way I see it, Granger, you and I are very much alike, though neither of us particularly care to admit it. After all, we're both in the middle of a dry spell in the friend department.
"So I have a proposition for you, Miss Granger. I want to you really think about it before you decide. I don't care either way, but it could mean life or death for you.
"Here's the deal, Granger. Three days a week, you and I will meet. Same time, same place, for an hour or more. We can discuss anything either of us wishes to. I might even tell you a little about my past. We can sit and do nothing, or we can even study. But three days a week, say Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, we will meet in this Room of Requirement.
"There's the deal. Take it or leave it." Draco, who had long since taken his hand off Hermione's arm, leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, watching her as she thought about forming a sort of alliance, if you will, with Draco Malfoy.
Finally, after nearly ten minutes, Hermione looked him in the eye and said, "Ok. You've got yourself a deal."
A figure sat curled up against a huge stone wall, watching her friends as they goofed around on the school grounds. Her school robes wrapped tightly around her, she pulled up her knees until they touched her chest and rested her chin on them. Her two best friends had become popular in the last year, what with Harry's defeat of Lord Voldemort. And while Hermione knew Harry and Ron meant well, inviting her along on all their escapades, she also knew that they were more than likely to hang around the hordes of girls that never seemed to leave their sides. She sighed. She missed them. The days, even just last year, when they were inseparable. A trio of best friends.
"There is no a clearer manifestation of pure evil than teachers giving assignments over holiday breaks," said Ron indignantly to the people standing around Harry and him. The girls all giggled. They were discussing the fact that the N.E.W.T.s were given at the end of this year and undoubtedly would the teachers assign the seventh years plenty of homework during the Christmas break. Hermione must have drifted off into thought again, because the next time she tuned in, Harry and Ron were talking about their second year, when they had tried to fly Ron's father's enchanted Ford Anglia to school after missing the train. "So we got in the car and drove out of the parking lot of King's Cross Station-" Ron began.
"You know how to drive?!" squealed a girl. One of Harry and Ron's admirers, no doubt, Hermione thought with a pang.
"He knows how to crash," Harry muttered. Ron elbowed his best friend, grinning, eager to continue with the story. Harry grinned back. Hermione knew they loved the attention. She looked on while they continued with their embellished story.
She knew she looked quite pathetic, sitting there in the fetal position because she was feeling left out, but she didn't particularly care at the moment. She heaved another heavy sigh, and heard snickering coming from her left. She knew exactly who it was. She looked up and, sure enough, saw the three people she most loathed: Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. "Bloody hell," she muttered under her breath. "Stupid git." She slid her legs back down to the grass and crossed them in front of her. Her robes slid down to the ground, forming a shield around her. She crossed her arms over her chest and tossed the offenders what she hoped was her most scathing glance. Go away, she willed them. Instead of adhering to her wishes, they began to approach her.
"Oh, is Miss Granger feeling left out?" Malfoy asked in a mockingly sympathetic tone.
"Shut up, Malfoy. For your information, I am merely out here enjoying the fresh air. And studying."
"So that's why you were sitting all curled up, staring wistfully at Potty and the Weasel," he said, clasping his hands together and bringing them up to the side of his face in a poor attempt to mimic Hermione.
Hermione clenched her teeth and fists before she replied. "It's none of your business how I was sitting, how I am sitting, or how I will be sitting, you bloody ferret."
"Ooh, the temper is flaring. Better get out of the way, mates," Malfoy said to Crabbe and Goyle, who were snickering and nodding, "before the Mudblood pulls out that wand and does some highly advanced magic for which she'll be expelled." Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy laughed at the preposterous but all too delicious thought of Hermione being expelled from Hogwarts.
Hermione couldn't take it anymore. Vaguely aware that there were probably teachers hanging around somewhere, and that Harry and Ron were probably watching (that last fact was part of what made her do it); Hermione got to her feet and ran at Malfoy, trying with all her might to knock him over. She succeeded, and soon Hermione was standing over him, hands on her hips. "I suggest you learn to control that mouth of yours, Malfoy," she spat his own name in his face, "before you end up beaten to a pulp by a girl. And a Muggle-born at that." She kicked him in the ribs before stalking off toward the castle to applause by Harry, Ron, and their admirers.
As Hermione stormed across the castle towards the Gryffindor dormitories, she heard her name being called from behind her.
"Hermione! Hermione, wait up!" It was Harry and Ron. She kept walking, not looking back. She kept her head high. As much as she didn't want to admit it, what Malfoy had said about her feeling left out was true. She had been afraid to say something to Harry and Ron for fear of them completely rejecting her. She had never had any other real friends besides the two boys, and she didn't know what she would do without them. But it was starting to feel like it was about time to tell her best friends how she felt.
They finally cornered her near the Fat Lady. "Hermione!" Ron called, leaning against Harry and panting. They had raced all the way to Gryffindor Tower. "That was bloody brilliant," he wheezed.
"Brilliant was it?" Hermione asked, whirling around to face them. Her robes spun out behind her. Ron and Harry looked at each other. They had never seen Hermione so mad before.
"Hermione, what's the matter? You-"
"I'll tell you what's the matter," she said. "I'm sick to death of being left out of everything you two do. I'm glad you defeated You-Know-Who, Harry, really, but this new popularity of yours has changed everything. I haven't really had any other friends here besides you two. And Ginny. So how do you think I feel when I'm stuck sitting around on the side while you two go gallivanting off to who-knows-where with your little groupies?"
"We don't leave you out, Hermione. We still stick together," Harry replied softly.
"Yeah," Ron chimed in. "We still invite you to come places with us and everything."
"You two really are daft, aren't you?" she asked them, shaking her head. "Ethereal," she told the portrait, and as it swung open, she stepped into the Gryffindor common room with Harry and Ron following closely behind. "Even after you 'invite me' to come along (something which you never used to need to do, I might point out), you still ignore me and leave me sitting on my own while you go off with all your little girlfriends. I'm sick of it. And I miss the way we used to be," Hermione sighed. "What?" she asked all the people who had been in the common room when she came in yelling. She heaved a sigh of frustration and stormed off to her dormitory, leaving Harry and Ron to wonder what had just happened.
Hermione, meanwhile, threw herself on her bed and began to cry. Parvati and Lavender, who had been in the dormitory, giggling over some magazine, approached her cautiously. "Hermione? Are you alright?" Lavender asked softly. All she got in return were some muffled noises coming from Hermione's pillow. Parvati and Lavender looked at each other and left the dormitory, giving Hermione some time alone.
About ten minutes later, Hermione got up and wiped her face clean of all her tears. She went over to the mirror and stood there, scrutinizing herself. She had changed a lot from her first year at Hogwarts. Back then, she had bushy, frizzy hair and big buckteeth. She was short and always had her nose stuck in a book. Now, six years later, her appearance and even her habits had changed. At least, in her opinion. Which apparently didn't count for much when it all came down to it. She had colored and de-frizzed her hair so instead of being a mousy brown bush that sat on her head, it was a darker brown with blonde highlights that fell to her shoulders in waves. Her teeth were smaller, since fourth year when Malfoy had so generously blown them up for her and she'd had Madam Pomfrey shrink them a tad too much. She smiled at the memory. She'd also grown a little taller since then, and the school uniform she wore under her robes flattered her figure a little more. And she didn't spend her entire life in books. Just most of it. She didn't think herself unattractive anymore. In fact, if she might say so herself, she was sort of pretty, especially when she smiled.
All too soon, though, the smile turned back into a frown. Too bad there's no one at this whole school who agrees with me, however. Except maybe Ginny. But Ginny doesn't count. Hermione sighed again. Just once, she thought, I wish someone would see me as more than just a bookworm with frizzy hair. I wish someone would see me the way I see myself. She shook her head. As if that would ever happen. Disgusted with herself, she turned away from the mirror and, grabbing a Muggle book she'd brought with her, ventured back down to the common room. As soon as she stepped into the room everyone else fell silent. "Oh for heaven's sake," she muttered, glancing around for Harry and Ron. They were nowhere to be seen. They must have gone up to their dormitories. Hermione stepped out of the portrait hole and headed down the hall. She was looking for a place where she could sit and read without interruptions. She thought about going to the library, but realized that Harry and Ron could still find her. Not to mention Malfoy, who would take great pleasure in finding her alone. Where else could she go? The Room of Requirement! She thought suddenly. The very same place where Harry had illegally taught a group of twenty-eight their Defense Against the Dark Arts spells during fifth year when they were taught by a truly dreadful teacher who only allowed them to learn the subject through reading books. Hermione immediately went towards the seventh floor and the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. When she got to the tapestry, she found a door in the wall across from it. "That's strange," she muttered. She thought the Room of Requirement only appeared after walking in front of the wall three times while thinking of what was needed. She shrugged and pushed open the door, walking right in.
Two steps in, she stopped dead in her tracks and her mouth fell open. There, sitting at a table with his back to the door, his body wracked with what looked like sobs, was none other than Draco Malfoy. Unsure of what to do, Hermione closed the door and slowly and quietly approached Draco, much in the same way she would approach one of Hagrid's creatures. She gently cleared her throat as she neared him. "Malfoy?" she whispered.
Draco's head shot up as he looked around. He quickly wiped his eyes and sneered when he saw Hermione. "What are you doing here, Granger?" he asked with great distaste.
"I came looking for a place to read," she held up her book, "and when I got here I saw you here. What were you doing? Are you ok?" She guessed it must be her inquisitive nature, but she wasn't quite sure why she was concerned about why Malfoy was in the Room of Requirement crying.
"None of your business, you know-it-all," Draco replied, his face flushed with what Hermione could only guess was embarrassment.
She shook her head angrily and clicked her tongue at him. "You know, I just came up here to read my book in peace, and I find you in here, sobbing your head off for whatever reason. I swear, I try and try, but nothing I do is ever good enough for anyone." Feeling the tears start to well up in her eyes again, Hermione turned her back on Draco and began to stomp toward the door. Just as she was about to close the door behind her, she heard a response to her mumbled angry statements.
"So I was right," Draco was saying. Hermione stopped, her back still to him, listening. "The mighty Hermione Granger is feeling left out of the Unstoppable Three."
She slowly turned back around. "I didn't think you even knew I had a first name, let alone what it was," she commented.
"I know a lot more than you think I do. I know about the crush you've had on Potter for the past three years. There're a lot of things I know that you don't think I know or don't want me to."
"Ok, Malfoy. I'll bite. Why do you know all these things? And why are you telling me?"
Draco shrugged. "I just thought it might be about time to put some of those old grudges and such behind us. What do you say, Granger?"
"I say I'm still confused as to what's going on here." She stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her. She sat down at the table across from Draco and stared him down. "I don't understand this at all. Why are you throwing this at me? And what was going on with you earlier?"
"I can't believe I'm about to admit this," Draco mumbled under his breath. Hermione was able to catch what he said and raised an eyebrow. "Especially to you." He looked her square in the eye and raised his voice to a normal speaking level. "I'm jealous of you, Granger."
"Ha! Why would you, of all people be jealous of me? You're a Malfoy, you're a Pureblood, you're rich and powerful. Bloody hell, you've even got two goons who are willing to do your bidding at the drop of a hat. What could I possibly have that you could be jealous of?"
"You think you know everything, don't you?" Draco asked, pounding his fists on the table and standing up. He ran a hand through his hair and left his hand on his head for a couple of minutes before answering.
For some reason, Hermione hadn't noticed until just now how much Draco had changed in the past seven years. He had started first year a scrawny kid with slicked back, white-blond hair, and a snarl to match. At seventeen, his hair was not slicked back anymore. It was much shorter and fell on his head softly, spiking out a bit (probably with the help of some kind of hair gel, Hermione guessed) at the top. It was also a little darker. Oh, it was still the extremely light blond it had always been, but now it was more blond than white, something which was different. Also, Hermione noticed, Draco was not scrawny anymore. He was, in fact, far from it. While he hadn't matured mentally from when he was eleven, he had certainly matured physically. He had grown into a tall, husky young man. Even under the Hogwarts sweater vest and robes that he wore, Hermione could see that he was well built.
"You don't know anything about me," Draco hissed at her, breaking her out of her thoughts. He paused and looked at her for a moment. She could feel a blush rising in her cheeks and cursed herself. "What are you blushing for?"
"N- Nothing. What were you saying? I don't know anything about you? Well, then, please, enlighten me." She crossed her legs on the side of her chair, and then crossed her arms in front of her chest, gesturing for Draco to continue on with his statement.
"You ask me what you could have that I, a rich, powerful Malfoy don't have. And you call yourself smart. Everyone calls you smart." Draco snorted. "You may be good at your studies, but when it comes to everyday matters, you are as clueless as they come. The name Malfoy comes with a price, my dear Miss Granger. Sure, I'm rich and powerful and a Pureblood. I'm not bad looking, either, if I say so myself." Hermione snorted, trying not to betray the fact that she had been thinking that same thing mere moments before. Draco shot her a dirty look. "But the one thing that is valued so much by you, that you have in abundance, is something that no Malfoy has ever truly had. And for that, I envy you." He paused again and looked at Hermione. She still had no idea what he was talking about, and apparently he knew it. "Love, Granger. I'm talking about love. And friendship. That sort of thing." Hermione opened her mouth to point out that he had Crabbe and Goyle, but Draco would not let her speak. "And don't you even think about saying that I have those two daft idiots Crabbe and Goyle. They're not friends. They're, as you so kindly put it, goons who are willing to do pretty much whatever I ask them to do. I could never have a relationship with either of them like you have with Potter and Weasley. For that, I envy you."
Hermione snorted again. "A lot you know, Malfoy. You're not as smart as you think you are either. The 'Unstoppable Three,' as you put it, is no more. Those two gits have left me-" Hermione stopped abruptly, ashamed at what she had just admitted.
Draco's face lit up. "Aha! So I was right, what I said out on the grounds. You are feeling left out of your little group with Potty and the Weasel. Are they spending too much time with their girlfriends for your taste? And you're feeling like they don't understand you anymore?"
Hermione clenched her teeth again, and uncrossed her arms and legs. She turned to the table and buried her face in her arms. She could not believe she had let it slip to Malfoy that he was right. She'd never hear the end of it. Hermione looked up abruptly at the feel of a hand on her arm, right into Draco's cool blue eyes.
"Don't worry, Granger. I won't be telling anyone what we discuss in this room. Just like I expect you not to divulge anything, either. Anything that is ever said in this room between the two of us will not be spoken of anywhere else unless we are quite sure we are alone."
There was something about the tone of Draco's voice that made Hermione sure she would never disobey what he said. She nodded. "Thank you," she muttered.
"You may have formed your own ideas about me during the past seven years, and some of your opinion may be true, but one thing I am not, Miss Granger, is stupid," Draco informed her, still staring into her eyes. "I would not go around boasting the secrets of others, especially those who know secrets of mine."
Again Hermione nodded. "So I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you that not only were you right (and I'm sorry for attacking you), but what you said made me think. And I proceeded to get into a row with Harry and Ron."
"You told them how you felt, and they didn't understand," Draco said knowingly. "They couldn't see why you were feeling left out; after all, they invited you on all their outings and such.
"The way I see it, Granger, you and I are very much alike, though neither of us particularly care to admit it. After all, we're both in the middle of a dry spell in the friend department.
"So I have a proposition for you, Miss Granger. I want to you really think about it before you decide. I don't care either way, but it could mean life or death for you.
"Here's the deal, Granger. Three days a week, you and I will meet. Same time, same place, for an hour or more. We can discuss anything either of us wishes to. I might even tell you a little about my past. We can sit and do nothing, or we can even study. But three days a week, say Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, we will meet in this Room of Requirement.
"There's the deal. Take it or leave it." Draco, who had long since taken his hand off Hermione's arm, leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, watching her as she thought about forming a sort of alliance, if you will, with Draco Malfoy.
Finally, after nearly ten minutes, Hermione looked him in the eye and said, "Ok. You've got yourself a deal."