Then and Forever

Author's Notes: It's me again, with a one-shot fic about, who else? But Hermione and Draco. I know, it's angst again. But what can I do? The little fairies in my head had me writing about that. I don't really know if this is any good. A friend, my forever beta reader and critic, told me that the first part (when this was still in progress) does not seem plausible. Well, the explanations were not yet written so…

          Anyway, just tell me what you think and pray that hopefully, my chaptered fic would be over way before the sixth book comes out. ;p

Disclaimer: *sighs* Hermione, Draco, Harry and Voldemort are all JK Rowling's. I'm just some fan who wants to write some stories. And oh! The lake thingy and the new spell at the end of this fic was inspired by After the End that I read in Sugar Quill. :)

***

          Mine.

          She's mine.

          She belongs to me and no one else's.

          Even after the world had been turned upside down, she belonged to me.

          Beneath the façade that we exhibit to others, beneath the taunts, the glares, and the often times violent exchanges that we have, lies a connection so deep no one… nothing… can severe it.

          She was the only one who understood what it's like to be me. To be cold, uncaring, and spiteful. To hide and conceal my emotions under a blank face. To shield myself against hurt through an invisible barrier of frosty wall.

          She had managed to crumble the self-defense that I had put up over the years by silently crying by the fire one night. Every one has gone to sleep for hours already when I woke up. It was still dark and I knew that I couldn't go back to sleep any time soon that I decided to read myself to sleepiness in the prefect's common room. It was an understatement to say that I was surprised to find a girl there, sitting by the fire, her body racking violently. Messy brown hair told me that it was Granger, crying over something so bad that she hid herself there.

          "Why… if it isn't the Mudblood herself," I drawled out, causing her head to snap up momentarily to look at me before bowing down again and continue crying. Unperturbed by the lack of retort, I continued, "What's the matter? Potty didn't return your feelings? Or was it the poor Weasel? Oh… wait a minute… it's that Quidditch player, isn't it? Drum? Krum? Why, they didn't like the way you…"

          "Shut up, please," she said finally.

          As she didn't look up from her position, I pushed her further.

          "What? I believe that my hearing is quite impaired to-"

          "Shut up, Malfoy!" she shouted, standing up to face me. Her eyes were swollen and her cheeks were tear-strained. Her fists were clenched and she was trembling as she looked at me.

          "You… you don't know what it's like to be shunned by your best friend… Best friend! (Right…) Does she even know what it meant when she turned her back on me? When she learned that I'm a witch?

          "We've been friends since we were babies, you know. (No, I don't.) We played together, we went to the same school together… We were rarely apart. (Somebody liked you that much?) That is, until the day I got my letter. Then it slowly changed. (Of course, you started reading everything you can get your hands on!) She didn't know I could do magic. (Who did, anyway.) I just have some special talent that I have to go to a different school. She understood it in the beginning. (Uh-huh…) She said that she knew there was something different in me. (Right…)

          "Then she saw me practicing… she screamed! Called me a freak… a-a weirdo… I tried to talk to her but she wouldn't listen. (Oh-oh.) She backs off when I try to approach her. (Sheesh…) She-"

          She couldn't continue as she collapsed on her knees and sobbed, her hands covering her face.

          I stood still for about five seconds before my body moved on their own volition. I went to her, scooped her up, sat on the couch and gently lowered her between my legs. I rocked her gently while stroking her hair. We stayed like that for quite a while before her crying subsided.

          I didn't know what made me held her like that. Maybe it was the pitiful way she looked. Or maybe it was because of the reason behind her tears.

          We became quiet as she shyly extracted herself from my arms and sat on the other side of the seat, tucking her feet under her robes and hugging a pillow. We listened to each other breathe, as I felt her stare at me. I knew she couldn't bring herself to ask me why at the moment, especially after the way I acted towards her when I found her. I was glad she didn't as I didn't know if I could answer that question, for I myself don't know why.

          The silence was deafening me and I abruptly stood up, smirked at her long enough to see the shocked expression on her face and strode out of the room.

          She avoided me like a plague the following days. Or rather, she avoided every Slytherin. She was jumpy when the Gryffindors and Slytherins have a class together. Especially when she happens to glance to where I am and I was looking at her. I would have preferred that she snap at me or glare at me. I didn't even had the opportunity to tease the Trio any more for they all seemed to be glued to one another. And since I rarely see that Granger, I rarely see Potter and Weasley, much less glare at them.

          I've had enough of this. I much prefer our arguments than this cold-shoulder treatment I'm receiving. One Saturday, I waited for her to pass by the empty classroom going to the library and roughly grabbed her hand when she did pass. I pulled her towards the classroom, pinned her against the wall and stared down at her. She was breathing heavily and her eyes had a wild look in them.

          She was scared… of me.

          "Don't," I told her softly, gently loosening my hold on her wrists.

          "What?!" she gasped out, her eyes widening.

          I took a deep breath and said, "I just want to ask why you are avoiding me. You're always jumpy when I'm around. I haven't even shot an undetected hex towards you or your two boyfriends. It's been no fun… having no one to glare at."

          She regained her courage at that instance and she shoved my hands away.

          "So, that's what you take me for, huh," she said angrily. "Just some filthy little Mudblood whom you can toss your worldly ideas to, and provoke her into arguments when you want to. Well listen here, Malfoy," she spat out my last name like poison. "I don't bloody care if I'm just some low-life you can play with. But what I do care is if you nonchalantly spill all my secrets to your bloody housemates like some candy to be shared! I don't give a damn if you turn into blackmail that I cried in your arms, but for Merlin's sake! You should have never told anybody about it!"

          She was shaking so badly and her tears had started falling. I stared at her in shock… Surprised that she thought I spilled it out to everybody. But not really taken aback as that's what I would have done given the front I've shown her for the past years.

          Shaking myself from my thoughts, I backed a little from and told her, "I didn't."

          She raised her head a little and looked at me.

          "You didn't."

          "No," I answered, staring into her eyes.

          "Why?"

          That stunned me into silence for a while. It took me some time to speak as I was debating whether to tell her the truth or make up some lie when she suddenly spoke up.

          "You don't have to tell me anything," she said, looking at something on her right. "Forget I asked." And with that, she turned and took hold of the doorknob.

          "Hang on," I suddenly called out, exhaling the air I didn't realize I was holding. She inclined her head ever so slowly before she looked at me.

          I took a deep breath and said, "I want to tell you."

          I gestured towards the empty benches and we both took a seat, side-by-side, almost but never touching. And I began my tale, my reason for not telling. Haltingly at first, until they poured out of me.

          "No one… no one really cares about me. My cousins… hate me. My housemates associate themselves with me for the power my family name gives them. All they want from me are the… benefits that I could provide them, especially now that I've come of age."

          I paused as I looked at her, her brown eyes filled with curiosity.

          "My cousins are all just civil with me because we're family," I spat out the last word. "They don't like me because I don't want to follow the footsteps of my father and become Voldemort's handmaid. They want my position in the Death Eater's circle, but Voldemort didn't bestow that kind of favor to them and since I don't want to become like my father and take his place as a Death Eater…"

          I shook my head, trying to control my emotions raging in me, for finally being able to say out loud my feelings towards my family.

          "As for the others… Vincent and Gregory are the only real friends I have. They didn't befriend me because of my money, or because Voldemort favors me… They know exactly what's it like… Even if they're both going to follow their fathers and I won't, they stuck by me. And we don't discuss anything about Voldemort or the Death Eaters unless we absolutely have to."

          I took a deep breath as I finish and looked at her. Her head was bowed and she was clasping her hand.

          "How can you explain your actions towards me, my housemates, our other schoolmates?" she asked quietly. "And last year! When the Quibbler was out…?" she turned her head sideways to look at me.

          I raked my hand through my hair as I pondered how to answer her questions so she'd understand.

          "I…" I gulped. "I was raised by a Death Eater, someone who abhors Muggle-borns and half-bloods. My very first lesson when I was still a kid was that Purebloods are the only true wizards. Any other… breed doesn't deserve to be called one. I accepted that theory without any question. He's my father, after all, and I should believe any thing he says as the absolute truth. For years, I followed that. Until I heard about Squibs. If we're the only true wizards, how come there are those who can't do magic and they came from pure-blooded families?

          "That started what I'd call my awakening. I started to question my father but… So I just kept them to myself… my… own view of things. But, I can't help the way I act. I've been raised to be like that and I just can't change abruptly. It's not easy to just shift, you know. But I am… changing… gradually."

          I sighed as I leaned back.

          "And I don't want my father to find out which side I'm really on. Not right now, anyway."

          She was quiet when I finished.

          "Ok…" she said at last, giving me a small smile. "But this doesn't mean we're friends, Malfoy."

          "Oh, definitely," I answered her. "Would I want to be friends with a Muggle-born?!"

          We stared at each other for a few seconds and then we laughed.

          "We could be, you know," she said quietly after we stopped laughing.

          I looked at her and nodded. There were so many things that we have in common. And it wouldn't hurt if I'd have someone to talk to seriously besides Vincent and Gregory.

          "We should start over," I told her. "Draco Malfoy," I said, standing up and holding out my hand to her.

          She looked up at me and took my hand.

          "Hermione Granger," she said with a smile.

          I squeezed her hand before letting it go, hope spreading in me that a new beginning is just ahead of us.

          She stood up and moved to go out of the room when I remembered something.

          "How about the others?" I asked.

          She turned around to look at me and inclined her head sideways. She understood what I meant.

          "We can become good actors, can't we?" she answered with a raised eyebrow.

          I laughed at that and shooed her out of the room, hearing her giggles as she walked away.

          It was hard to keep a straight face for the weeks that followed when we try to act normal in front of the whole school. I always hear her muffled laughter after I would harass her friends and she'd try to stop us from fighting. We would only act friendly towards one another when we're enclosed by walls, away from the prying eyes of others. And because of that, I grew to know more about her, her fears of the growing powers of Voldemort (provided by me), her consternations about school work, her delight in having found someone she could talk and argue  things with (me), and other stuff that I never dreamed I'd know about her.

          Over time, I felt myself being drawn to her and my feelings for her changed. I now see her as someone I can live with for the rest of my life, not just some friend I can talk to about things. I never tried to tell her what I felt, though, for fear and certainty that she does not feel the same way. But, as secrets have a way of being discovered, I told her mine.

          Voldemort attacked Hogwarts by way of the lake. His followers and minions had the school under their power before night fell, and the students had to fight alongside their professors and some wizards and witches from Hogsmeade who went to the school and helped defend the it. Most of the teachers were already exhausted and we students had to go to the front line and give them a chance to recover before fighting again.

          It was at that time that someone from Voldemort's side shot a curse straight to where Hermione is. Not realizing what I was doing, I ran to her direction and pushed her aside, receiving the blow that was supposed to be hers. I felt a huge gash form on my side and I fell to the ground. My eyesight started to blur and I felt blood flowing from the injury I received. Hermione had come to my aid and I heard her shout spells as she tried to close the wound but it was to no avail. She had cradled my head on her lap and I felt tears dropping on my cheeks.

          "Stop that," I coughed out, clutching her hand that held mine, as I try to speak.

          "You stop," she said, as she tried to heal me again.

          "It's no use," I told her, trying to recall the spell that the Death Eater used.

          "Please," she begged. "You're straining yourself speaking."

          "Stand up and fight," I tried ordering her, as a spasm hit me and I tightened my hold on her hand.

          She shook her head and once again, she tried different spells to cure me.

          "I'll help you with this fight," I struggled to tell her. "I promise I'll always be by your side and help your side win. I'll even help Potter fight Voldemort," I tried joking as I felt my strength slowly ebbing away.

          "Don't leave me," she murmured, as she stroked my hair with her other hand.

          "I won't," I promised her. Feeling my life fading away, I struggled to tell her what I feel.

          "Hermione," I said, blinking so that my eyes would focus on her. "I love you."

~*~

          "And I love you," I said.

          Drying my tears, I stood up and carefully floated him towards the rest to where Madam Pomfrey is. I stood still and watched where he is, ignoring the jets of light going on around me for a moment, then I walked determinedly to my best friends' sides and joined them in the fight. Sometime through the battle, Harry and Voldemort came face to face and I tried to watch them confront each other as we struggle to win against the Death Eaters. Gradually, I felt our side win and by the time we had them restrained, Harry had Voldemort on his knees.

          The greatest and most evil wizard died. Harry wouldn't use an Unforgivable and we had to create a new spell that would end his life in an instant. It had worked, using everything that Voldemort despised against him: love, compassion, friendship, equality…

          I never married. I devoted my life to teaching, History of Magic, after I successfully persuaded Professor Binns to retire and let me handle his job. Sometimes, I feel him watching me as I teach, and I have to shake myself from my illusions and continue my lessons. But at night, when I'm all alone in my room, I could feel his presence surround me and even smell the faint scent of his cologne. I wonder what would have happened, if he hadn't seen me that night. Would I be with somebody now? Or would I eventually feel something for him and still end up alone?

          I never felt the same way to anybody the way I felt for him.

He had me in his hands. He has me still.

          I don't know if I'd ever get over this affliction. Maybe I will, or most probably I won't. I don't feel sad that I ended up this way. I actually feel content, and loved, despite his absence in my life, for I know that he kept his promise, of always being with me, even if I can't see him.

          Because I belong to him.

          Then and forever.

Owari

Very sappy ending on the first part. I didn't quite like the way the conversation was going. But I can't think of something else so it'll have to do. :) Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you didn't get confused on the abrupt change of POV at the end of the fic. :) And please… don't forget to write a review… :D