Proof
By Luinlith
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR. You know the drift.
A/N: Thank you to my betas Cai, Mea and Cloud – I couldn't have done this challenge without your (much needed) help.
My first fanfic in what seems to be decades! This was originally sent as an entry to the Last Night For Love challenge months and months (or roughly a year, actually) ago. I only decided to post this here recently, to find out what other people think of it.
If anyone is interested, the conditions for the fic challenge are:
Last Night For Love
1. Must be D/Hr, 7th year, last night at Hogwarts
2. Hermione cannot be the valedictorian.
3. Either Hermione or Draco needs to give a pep talk. (This can be to themselves, to anything or anyone)
4. Someone needs to say "This is your/our/my/their last chance" somewhere in the story.
5. Goyle must make a public proclamation. (Authors, we're leaving this entirely up to you. Be original!)
6. There needs to be mention of at least three of the following 7th Year Superlatives (or gag awards, as they're also called):
Most Likely to End Up at St. Mungo's
Next Minister of Magic
Biggest Flirt
Most Changed
Most Likely to Succeed
Most Likely to be featured in a Witch Weekly Scandal
Biggest Sorting Hat Mixup
Most Likely to Play Professional Quidditch
7. Must be at least 1000 words.
Therefore, some scenes in the fanfic may seem too odd, but were really written to fit the requirements (I have to admit that it is not a good sign of my writing skills when some scenes don't seem to fit and are sticking out).
WARNING: Fluffy and OOC. Attempted humor does that to you.
Anyway, with no further delay, here is Proof.
-
Second Most Eligible Wizard Not So Eligible Anymore?
P. Phell, Witch Weekly Correspondent
Exactly six months, five days and eleven hours ago, Witch Weekly released its Annual Top Ten Most Eligible Wizard List with the participation of the Daily Prophet, the Young Witch Magazine and the whole female (and not-so-male) wizarding population. As our millions of devoted readers know, our favorite master Seeker and advocate against evil Harry Potter (a.k.a. The Boy Who Lived) most deservingly bagged the top prize (to his chagrin and detriment; see Fangirls Pounce On Potter! on page 5). But not far from the top is our very own leather-clad bad boy of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy, who fell to second by only a margin of 1 vote (yet we suspect he forgot to vote for himself, oh Draco, you!). But after six months, five days and eleven hours, reports from very reliable sources in Hogwarts are saying that Malfoy has found himself his Only One, his Leading Lady, the Mistress of Darkness at last! And wouldn't you be curious to know who it is?
Dear readers, it is none other than that vile, despicable, boy-hoarding brain Hermione Granger, who we have featured in this magazine too many times than we would like (first for her involvement with Harry Potter, then with Viktor Krum — and dear Merlin, that's one too many times). Insiders say that the relationship had been brewing ever since Mr. Malfoy was chosen Head Boy and she, Head Girl, and only reached its extremity these past few weeks. "I'm sure I saw something there, working together late at night, calling each other for special meetings. Who knows what they've done?" a prefect, who wishes to remain anonymous, said. Others have more detailed accounts. "I'm sure I saw them snogging in the library once! The library of all places!" A Ravenclaw, who also wishes to remain anonymous, told this WW correspondent.
As to why the relationship only evolved now, people were saying that Hermione Granger's relationship with Draco Malfoy is a ploy to get over the humiliation that Granger received when Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, announced just days ago that she is not getting the Valedictorian nod come graduation day, and that it will be Draco Malfoy — who was also previously noted as second in class — doing the valedictorian speech.
Many professors and students have called foul play, but Dumbledore himself checked student records and affirmed that indeed, Mr. Malfoy was the top in class. If she isn't going to be remembered as the best student in her year, she might as well be reminded as The Girl Who Snagged Draco Malfoy, right? We congratulate Hermione Granger, then, for her cunning, if not for anything else.
"Oh, I'm sure she's trying to make a scandal for herself."
"I totally believe you. She's so trying to get over the Valedictorian nod!"
"And Draco Malfoy? Him of all people? He's mine!"
Mad whispering became louder, if that were even possible, when Hermione entered the Great Hall and took her place between a beaming Ginny, who congratulated her for "a good catch" and an exhausted Harry, who was trying with extreme effort to pacify a very red Ron beside him. Both Lavender and Parvati, and a hundred other female eyes glared at her direction and seemed to inconspicuously (or not so inconspicuously) plan her demise, while the rest of Hogwarts gave her disgusted looks. Owls were flying to her direction, dropping letters that luckily burst into flames in mid-air ("I don't think it was supposed to do that." Ginny said), and howlers that she let howl, despite the racket twenty howlers were making. In the distance, Pansy was howling beside a very amused Draco, who was forking his eggs St. Benedict with a smirk on his face.
All in all, it was a wonderful way to end one's stay at Hogwarts.
Hermione violently grabbed a knife, stuck it into a jar of jam and jabbed it onto a piece of toast. She didn't deserve this scandal. She didn't think she did anything to anger God, did she? She doesn't remember copying assignments, or doing unspeakable trysts in the Astronomy Tower, or resorting to violence ever in her life — well, except, of course, third year, but he deserved it. That sodding, effing, bloody git who got me into this deserved it! And now somebody has to bring that Valedictorian issue up again —
"I'm so happy for you, Hermione! I was revolted when I first heard, of course. Hello? Draco Malfoy? Too blonde. And too Slytherin. But it got me into thinking, not even Pansy Parkinson can snag Draco Malfoy." Another loud pitchy shriek from the Slytherin table ensued, and Ginny and everyone else's heads turned to a frantic Pansy. Ginny popped a piece of breakfast into her mouth. "Go you."
Ron huffed, still pretty pink in the cheeks, and looked at Harry. "Tell her I'm not talking to her ever again. Tell her that for the succeeding years of her life she can do without me, or Pig, or…or Ginny!"
Ginny looked up from her waffles. "Hey! You don't own me, big brother."
Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. "You haven't even heard my side, Ron."
"Oh, nonono. I'm quite certain that there's no side to be heard. The Witch Weekly, you know, they report it as it is. You don't read crap in the Witch Weekly."
"And you would be the expert, hmm Ron? Fancying a little midnight get-together with my girly magazines in the bathroom, right?"
Ginny went back to her waffles and Ron shut up.
"Now Hermione, I never stepped into the details of your social life," Harry began to say, in an almost Dumbledore-ish way. "I just want you to know that if you have something to say you don't have to be afraid to say it because I can promise you that I won't react violently —"
"Oh sod you, Harry. He's your mortal enemy!"
"Ron, my mortal enemy's mental state is currently debatable and is definitely less appealing than Malfoy — don't look at me like that, I'm only being honest —"
"Merlin," Hermione gave them her typical glare and stood up. "Look, there is nothing between Draco Malfoy and me. We work together as Head Boy and Head Girl and nothing else. Honestly, I don't even know why this is an issue, and why one of my best friends," Hermione shot an irritated glance at Ron, "won't believe me. Look, Draco can tell you that yourself."
By the end of what people perceived as Hermione's Denial Speech, almost every ear and eye was glued on her and Draco Malfoy. Unexpectedly, her voice was louder than what she intended it to be.
Someone whispered in the distance. "Draco, huh?"
Hermione decided to ignore that comment, and shot a very cautious look to the boy who was exactly two tables away from her. Their eyes communicated in a way their mouths could not. At the very table, Pansy stood up too, gave Hermione the glare of death, and looked down at a very calm Draco Malfoy, who still kept his eyes on the equally calm-looking Head Girl, while balancing a fork in his mouth. Pansy put her hands on her hips. "Weeell?"
Draco took the fork out of his mouth slowly, as if he were savoring every inch of taste left on it. He huffed, smirked and forked another piece of egg.
"Nooooooooo! Nonononononononono —"
In a few seconds, people were back to the whispering and Draco was stifling a cackle on his seat. Slytherins were praying that this was some ingenious cover-up for an evil master plan. In a flurry of confusion, Gregory Goyle flashed a hurt look at Draco and his voice boomed in the whole Great Hall. "You replaced me…for a Mudblood? How could you, Draco? I can't work with you this way. I have no choice but to resign, due to irreconcilable differences, my minionship to Draco Malfoy." Goyle broke into sobs, and it was not possible that Draco Malfoy could laugh any harder after that.
Ron stalked out of the Great Hall with his hand on his forehead, dragging Harry along with him, and Ginny went to tend to his distraught brother. Girls were taking out their quills and parchments, and began scribbling down minionship resumes. As Draco laughed away, he glanced at Hermione, as if to share with her this moment of joy and idiocy.
All he could see from her was a look of sadness and betrayal.
Dumbledore was clinking his glass, in preparation for the announcement of the winner of the House Cup. All Draco could do was laugh more, because when did Slytherin ever win the House Cup these days?
Yet as Hermione stalked away from the Great Hall hugging a book to her chest, Draco's laughter suddenly stopped.
-
Hermione turned to page sixteen of Hogwarts, A History.
The library was deserted today. It didn't come as a surprise though. It was the last day of classes, and the last day of Hogwarts for the seventh years in the Great Hall celebrating the end of broken quills and countless parchments, of two-ton, man-eating books and ghosts for teachers. Madam Pince was drowsing off behind the Librarian counter. Hermione set one longing look at the sagely old woman and went back to her book.
It wasn't easy this past year. Being Head Girl with possibly the worst Head Boy Hogwarts has ever known, and actually growing to get used to him, like him even…in a platonic way. Having to forget everything you've been through because of him, realizing that he was just like anyone else and needed a friend, and going to the point that you'd really care for a person other than yourself, and do something for that person without thinking of yourself…er, you know, in a platonic way.
It sucked. Big time.
And now the most intelligent student Hogwarts has ever known was in the middle of an idiotic scandal, and worse, her hard work for seven years has gone down the drain.
Hermione Granger, Salutatorian.
But the funny thing was, Salutatorian wasn't the hardest thing to accept. No, not now. Years ago, she might have gone into anorexia if she didn't become the best student at the end of the year, but this year it was different. Very different.
"You carry that book around like a security blanket, you know that?"
Hermione didn't look up. "Go away, you git. Right now is not a good time."
Draco pulled a chair in front of Hermione and sat down. He clasped his hands in front of her and looked at her, as she stared at the page she set her book in. His hands inched closer to hers, but he quickly balled his fists to stop himself.
"So we snogged in the Library, isn't that right? It would be such a waste if it never really happened," Draco winked jokingly, but Hermione kept her eyes on her book.
Out of nowhere, fifty owls dived precariously towards Draco and dropped fifty letters on the table in front of him. Fearing another attack from Draco-loving avengers, Hermione closed the open window from which the owls came. Draco opened one letter and cackled with glee. "Hey, hey look at this: 'Credentials for minionship. Secretary of the Unofficial Draco Malfoy Fan Club, 3 years. Will have given herself to you in ways you only read in a Knockturn Alley bookshop. Willing to work out of Hogwarts.' These are hilarious! Aren't they?" Draco was smiling from ear to ear while Hermione, deadpan, scratched her ear.
Draco frowned.
"Look, I'm sorry, Hermione. I know I should have said something out there, but to see Pansy's and Weasel's face was just too much —"
"Without any consideration of how I would feel. Thank you, Draco, you really are a good friend."
"Hermione," It was hard enough admitting you were wrong, but it was harder having the one you're confessing to read a book as you did. "Hermione, look at me. Hermione. Hermione? Hellooo? Hermioneee? Look, you've been staring at that paragraph for minutes."
Hermione's head shot up. "You know, it's times like these that I wonder, just wonder, why I have befriended you. First of all, you've humiliated me from the very first day I set foot in Hogwarts, you humiliate my friends and even refuse to avoid doing so in front of me, you irritate me, abuse my friendship, and you are just plain vile, despicable, and loathsome—"
Draco winced. "Easy on the adjectives, please."
"I sure will not be easy on the adjectives, mister," In seconds, Hermione was in full-fledged Head Girl mode, her back straight and her eyes like slits. "I will be so extreme with the adjectives that God knows you'll finally realize how difficult you are!"
"Stop it, stop it! You sound like my mother!"
"Push it, and I'll slap you in a way your mother never could."
Draco was tempted to let out a snort but seeing Hermione's threatening hand on a closed Hogwarts, A History, he contained himself.
"I've given effort in making you my friend, Draco." Hermione sighed and spoke calmer. "You are my friend, even though I've had to hide it from Harry and Ron and everyone else. As a friend, why can't you make my life easier, just once?"
Silence consumed them until Draco looked towards the closed window and winced at his own words. "Look, if this is about the Valedictorian thing —"
"This is certainly not about the Valedictorian thing! How can you even dare insinuate —" Hermione sighed again and put her face on her hands. "I did it for you. Friends do that."
With that final word, Hermione stood up and left. "I'll be at the Great Hall right after lunch to arrange the Graduation Ball. I'll give you the sashes for the gag awards then." The large doors of the Library softly clicked shut.
Draco gave out a gush of breath, not even noticing that he had been holding it in all this time. He slowly took out a small, crumpled piece of parchment from his right pocket, and smoothened it out. On the parchment was a brief note written in very thin, curvy longhand and in dark green ink.
Draco,
I have not been hearing good things about your academic status at Hogwarts. All the families are speaking of news from their children that you are going to be beaten by a mudblood on graduation. A mudblood, Draco? And Potter's friend? I thought that this matter has already been taken care of, as you've promised me years ago? I hope you can personally assure me that these rumors do not have a grain of truth behind them.
You do know what you will have to face when you do not get the Valedictorian nod. We have talked about this, if you can recall. He is most disappointed in you. You know you need that accolade if you are to serve your purpose well.
Talk to your mother by Floo this weekend. She is anxious to see how you are doing.
Remember, Draco.
L.M.
Eyebrows furrowed, sad eyes and a frown. "Draco, what's this?"
Draco stormed into the common room and grabbed the note from her hand. "Where'd you get this?"
"You lent me your T-fig notes, remember? It fell from your notebook when I dropped it! Tell me what this is about, Draco, or by Merlin I'll—"
"It's none of your business!"
"Yes it is! I'm your friend! Tell me!" And she stared at him with eyes that mirrored the pain he, she felt. She's always taken care of other people, he realized. It's a motherly trait that would never die down.
I shouldn't have left this lying around.
In a few seconds, a shadow came to set behind him, a shadow that walked slowly and took Hermione's seat.
"And you've fancied her for how long?"
Draco crumpled the piece of parchment and put it back in his pocket. "How did you know?"
"You love anyone who screams at you," The person in front of him made a Pansy imitation. Draco cringed.
"Ah, Blaisey. I don't even know myself." Draco gave his best friend a sad smile.
"You do know we hate her. I mean, a Mudblood?"
"Shut it. I can kill you if I want to. I do a good A.K."
"But you never will. Because I'm right."
"I don't need your, or anyone else's, permission on anything."
"You sure are the rebel nowadays, hmm? Fine. Answer one thing: Why?"
"I hate the whys."
"Answer me."
"No."
"Answermeanswermeanswermeanswerme —"
"Idiot."
"Come on, make me understand. At least."
"Because she makes me laugh, and not laugh because she's an idiot. She makes me laugh like I've never laughed with anyone before. I'm with her, and everything seems to be lighter than how things really were, no matter how anal she becomes. She makes me want to be myself, because she doesn't believe in hiding who you are and she just makes me want to love everything and laugh."
Silence.
"I don't think she'd appreciate it if she knew you loved her because she made you laugh."
"Shut it."
"How about your father?"
"He should be happy. I'm Valedictorian, right? He's actually calling me 'The Master's Golden Boy.'"
"And the 'I did it for you. That's what friends do.' comment?"
"For her sake, something you shouldn't know."
"Fine."
Chirp, chirp.
"Does she snog well?"
"Blaise! I haven't snogged her yet."
"Dude, you are losing your touch then." And Draco proceeded to drown in his misery.
-
Hermione guessed it was a pretty uneventful lunch. No more threatening mail and the glaring had come down a notch. Pansy started hounding her minutes after her trip to the library, screaming profanities in her ear. On the way to lunch, Hermione asked her what color her dress robes were for the ball that night. Pansy had paled and dashed quickly, heading towards, Hermione guessed, the Slytherin dungeons. She was left to eat her lunch in peace.
Well, almost in peace. Ron was still angry, Harry aggravated, and Ginny amused. And no one was shutting up because they still didn't know what hairdo they were going for tonight, or where their cherry lipstick was, or who was going to fix this rip on the hemline of their dress robes, or if oh my goodness, was Draco Malfoy reported to be doing a striptease on top of the professors' table at midnight?
Of course, a number of them realized Hermione Granger was sitting in front of them, started giggling and congratulated her.
And now, hours later, Hermione was zoning off as she watched students dance to the music of the Weird Sisters, once again invited to perform in a Hogwarts Ball. Standing by a niche by the makeshift stage, Hermione saw more and more people enter the Great Hall, with Pansy waltzing in with glittering rainbow-colored robes. Fixed the problem with the color of her dress robes, we presume.
And if things were not problematic enough, Hermione was feeling increasingly guilty and morally horrible. She never liked fighting, really. She always felt uncomfortable not being in speaking terms with someone you naturally spoke to. Especially if said person is only a few feet from you, eating the finger food for tonight.
"This is atrocious! Somebody, get a house-elf here — I don't care if they're not supposed to be seen! Get one up here!"
Oh, she wanted to wring his neck.
"Malfoy, the food is fine."
"No it's not Granger — have you tried one of these? I mean, I thought Knockturn Alley was the end of it. The cooks there have an obsession for unusual animals."
"If you say one more thing about the food I'll —"
Hermione noticed that suddenly most students in their part of the room were standing within earshot of the two, arranging the spoons and forks because they seemed crooked, or, you know, the food at this part of the Great Hall is definitely more inviting.
"Yes, Ms. Granger? You're going to do what?" Draco smiled.
Hermione returned the gesture and dragged Draco to an invisible room behind the stage where they kept the materials and other staples for the night. The people actually looked disappointed.
"Ego check, Draco."
"Hey, if you had to taste those what-they're-called, you'd be near-retching too."
Exasperated, Hermione glared at Draco and let out one big sigh. "Just come with me."
Hermione led Draco to a table in the room, where a number of glittery sashes were laid out in a row, colored according to the house of the person receiving it. The words in each sash would not stay put, circling the sash like a billboard sign.
Hermione produced a piece of parchment and handed it to Draco. "You're to award this near the end of the night. I made you a list of who will receive which sash and which house they're from and —"
"And I bet you made the Most Likely To Be Featured In A Witch Weekly Scandal just for yourself."
Hermione glared at him, not at all pleased. "No, I am already in a Witch Weekly Scandal. I don't need an award to remind me, thank you. And the colors indicate your house, which means, in the end, that you must be getting the prize."
"You know, for sheer audacity, I think you should be the Biggest Sorting Hat Mixup."
"And you, because you make me feel so special, the Biggest Flirt."
"I am the Biggest Flirt."
"Biggest Head Oversize is more like it."
Not too sure what to say or do, Draco and Hermione uncomfortably stood in the silence that came between them, despite the muffled sound of the Weird Sisters that started to play as the Graduation Ball was about to start. Technically, they were still fighting, but minutes ago they were carrying a relatively peaceful and civil conversation. Technically also, this happened all the time.
Draco broke the silence, not exactly sure if what he did was the wisest decision, his tone of voice hesitant. "I never asked for your help, but you gave it to me without hesitating, and I'm really grateful for that. But you weren't supposed to read that letter."
"But I did," Hermione retorted, almost irritated that the issue had come about again.
"But you did," Draco sighed and averted his eyes, staring at the glowing sashes. "You don't have to be righteous and good all the time."
Hermione was taken aback. "But I can be sarcastic and frankly, a prat. And a very determined one at that. It evens out."
"I can go to Dumbledore now and — "
"What? I don't want that!" Hermione screamed, completely flabbergasted.
"Then what do you want?" Draco, frustrated, shouted back.
"You alive. Your father not finding another excuse to put stupid things in your head," Hermione stared straight into Draco, not afraid to show her resentment. "You think giving up the Valedictorian nod so your father doesn't have to threaten you with your freedom or your life is what's been bothering me all this time? You were only second to me then by a few points. Do you know how easy it is not to get a 116 on a test?"
"Wake-up call, Hermione. It isn't going to stop. He's going to find something to make me do what he wants me to."
"It very well should stop, Draco! You're Valedictorian, he can't do anything to you now and you owe him nothing, not even your education. You can run, be anything you want!"
"You are too righteous!"
"I am not! Stop saying that!"
"Then what's been making your day a hell?"
"Seeing you, this morning, and having me question not if I did the right thing, but if I did it for the right person."
Draco almost huffed in mockery. "I am telling you, you are already naively too righteous!"
"Just because it's such a farfetched idea to you for a person to be selfless and to want to do the right thing doesn't mean it's really improbable."
"Even if it means your giving up the most important thing in your life?" Draco challenged. But what Draco could see was only disappointment in her friend's eyes, as if saying, You still expect me to answer that?
Draco stammered to say something. "Look — I'm not Potter, okay? I don't have 'moral' written on my scar-laden forehead. It's not easy. Here I am, being my sexy self and you come prancing around with your Fairy Godmother virtues and spreading magic dust on the top of my head, only the fairy dust isn't working as expected."
"You're not amusing, making Muggle movie metaphors."
"See, you're rubbing off on me. You must have watched Cinderella more than Dalt Tisney himself. I mean, I see where the house-elf obsession comes from." And Draco and Hermione almost wanted to laugh at each other, their eyes twinkling despite feeling not at all too well between them.
The frequent mood change, Draco thought, was an indication of how things were screwed up, sort of. Hermione Granger, Gryffindor, Muggleborn, and anally virtuous, is his friend. And he fancied her. And she is probably the most intelligent, ethical and fairly sarcastic girl in the Wizarding World. And she makes him laugh. And she thinks he's amoral.
And for some reason, he didn't like that he was out of her league. He didn't like that he could write a sixteen-page essay on what a great person Hermione Granger is and not even be able to count on the fingers of his right hand why he was a considerably okay guy. He didn't like it that he wanted her, but didn't deserve her and couldn't think of why she would want him too.
And while most people would give up, look with puppy-dog eyes on the Girl/s of Their Dreams, and say, "You're too good for me" and wait for her to take pity on him (or in a phrase, grovel for affection), Draco wasn't like that. He liked to fight for what he wanted.
This is it, Draco. It's you and the girl who actually matters. You can do this. You can do this. You can do thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis! YOU CAN DO —
"Draco! Still here?"
Light cough.
Draco bit his lip. "How can I prove to you that I'm not as bad as you think I am?"
"Draco," Hermione started to say, in an almost apologetic tone. "I don't think you're bad, I'm just —"
"Guessing I'm lucky I'm not like a little Voldie yet? Okay." And when Draco woke up to the realization seconds later of what he was about to say, he couldn't help wincing and praying to a higher power that this was enough. "I will stop calling your friends Potty and Weasel. I will hinder myself, though most painfully, from grabbing a quill and putting lines on Potter's scar to draw an asterisk. I promise not to charm Pansy's make-up green, even though I did see you relish that moment alone in a secluded corner in the library." Draco held an accusatory look. "I…I'll never say the 'M' word ever again! I never do say the 'M' word anymore, what with you around me all the time. I'll even lessen the malicious smirking and smiling, if you want. And for your distinct pleasure, I will reveal to you, and only you, a secret about Professor Snape that the Slytherin House, the House that keeps no secrets unless for future blackmail purposes, hides in disgrace. And…and…"
Draco looked around the stage and bit his lip even harder. Flowers? No. A dance? Eew. Hermione, Hermione, Hermione…"Let's see."
A plain white sash lying on the table beside them presented itself to Draco, and he took it into his hands with one quick swoosh. One swish of his wand and bright gold letters were dancing on a rich maroon sash. Hogwarts Valedictorian, the sash said. "There. Your very own Valedictorian sash, which is rightfully yours in the first place. Sharing the limelight."
"I was going to say I was just a tad bit disappointed." Hermione took the sash into her hands and laughed. "Though I appreciate everything you said a while ago, I have to say that this sash has got to be the lamest excuse for kindness!"
"Hey, I'm trying. This is my last chance to prove to you that I give a damn."
And he kissed her, not hard, not soft. He kissed her and he thought "Thank Merlin", and she thought "Thank Merlin" and they were glad no one was backing away, and somehow a heavy load had just come out of their chests and despite the loss of oxygen they were actually breathing more freely now.
Hermione smiled. Draco smiled back.
"I was saving this for you," Hermione went to the sashes and picked a green and silver sash. It said Most Changed.
"Oh no. I've always been a good kisser." Hermione hit him on the arm.
And there they were, in a room behind the stage, muffled music working its way to their ears, the moon glistening and stars twinkling on the Great Hall ceiling above their heads. And they were grinning like idiots, afraid to show each other they were grinning like idiots, Draco raking his hair with his hand and Hermione smoothing her dress robe.
Yes, it was a wonderful way to end one's stay at Hogwarts.
"I thought I was a disappointment," Draco said, suppressing a laugh.
"I'm the Fairy Godmother of Morality, remember? I'm good at infecting morality with my Fairy Dust, even for someone as evil as you. Just remember what you promised so I won't have to be worried," Hermione grinned and Draco grinned too, only now with no malice or mocking undertones.
"Are you sure I'm not just a very good-looking Death Eater and I've shrouded your sensibilities with my stunning good looks?"
"Are you sure I'm not just a very clever Dumbledore minion who's successfully converted you to immaculate goodness?"
"Eew."
"Right on."
-
Final Words: "Will have given herself to you in ways you only read in a Knockturn Alley bookshop" is an allusion, sort of, to a line from Win A Date With Tad Hamilton, the movie I was watching when I decided to write this fic, even though the plot doesn't even have as much as a remote connection to my plot here. Nevertheless. :D RR please. It was my first attempt for humor (fluffy humor at that) so I really would like to know from you how it went. Many thanks!
