Hermione Granger loved to learn. She studied everything she could get her hands on; from instruction manuals, to encyclopedias, to phonebooks, and to newpapers.
She first began to study in a physical form when her parents introduced a fish to the family. She had just turned seven and had decided upon the name of Leroy for the small catfish. She read every book about fish she could find and then placed herself in front of his tank for hours, with a pen in her hands and a notebook open to a blank page. Every motion he made was cataloged, every breath and every twitch of his fins was labeled, and every time his eyes turned to her, another bulletpoint was added to her notes.
Leroy, of course, passed away as most fish do. Hermione felt only a twinge of grief, seeing as how she hadn't considered him as something to really love to begin with. Of course, he was cute and interesting, but nothing about him had piqued her concern. She gave him a proper burial and shed a tear or two as any ten-year-old girl would do at the passing of their family pet.
Then she continued on with her life.
At eleven, she recieved her Hogwarts letter.
She had an entire new world to study, and one which was vastly more interesting than the world she had originated. She poured over the textbooks and scrolls she required for school, searing them to her brain until she could cite them word for word. When she arrived, she immediately began to dissect everything she encountered and questioned what came upon her path.
Two things that happened to fall upon her, almost quite literally, were Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley.
The troll, having cornered her, was disgustingly rank and her eyes watered as she stared up into his hideous, graying face and screamed. All of a sudden, Harry was clinging to the troll's neck as Ron helplessly waved his wand erratically. She blinked, noticing the way their faces contorted when faced with the troll, before she jumped into action.
At twelve, she read over every book in the Hogwarts' library a second time. Her eyes glanced towards the Restricted Section before she shook her bushy curls and inwardly laughed. How could she ever find need for the dark magic that was surely accosted in those books?
And so she moved on.
At thirteen, she studied time travel and the theory of dimensions. She wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was a dimension that she could reach through use of time travel. Upon further study however; she concluded that it would be preposterous to try at such a young age and with such limited knowledge still, and so she should remember to experiment with the theory later.
At fourteen, she was faced with the horrid subject of hormones. Her body reacted viciously and suddenly; her ovaries deciding to begin the process of menstruation without consulting her brain. She became bitter and passive-aggressive with the change and resolutely began the study of human anatomy.
Of course, this decision led to another topic altogether: Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, and the newly added champion, Viktor Krum.
The insinuation of her and Harry boiled her blood and made her want to scream. She didn't love him because he was famous; she loved him because he was Harry. He was her best friend; brother even. Their relationship had never even touched a romantic or sexual boundary.
Ron was an entirely different story. He made her hands sweaty and her head ache, but he was such an idiot at times that she wanted to just give up. His lanky build was somewhat attractive as he continued to grow into his long arms and legs. His freckled face and shaggy red hair were endearing features that clung to her heart. The brightest blue eyes she had ever seen caught her attention in every room and she'd be faint with breath when they turned her way. However, when he began to speak, she grew easily frustrated and annoyed. He just never seemed to be able to keep up.
Viktor was a new, fresh breath of air for her. He was tall and sturdy, with a perfectly trimmed beard and soft brown eyes. His olive skin was smooth and his voice was resonating. Hermione soon gave in to his quiet pursuit and agreed to go with the older boy to the Yule Ball; seeing as how Ron had never even thought to ask her.
Viktor was an exceptional dancer and an even sweeter date. Hermione thoroughly enjoyed her evening until Ron decided it would be the perfect time to fight for her affections. She bristled as he spat at her with hot white jealousy and tears sprung to her eyes as she willed herself to keep composure. Soon enough, their argument ended as they usually do; Ron storming off with Harry and Hermione crying bitterly as she cursed him under her breath.
Viktor had appeared then and gathered her into his arms. They had walked away from the party and towards the courtyard. They spent a few moments looking up into the night sky before Viktor turned to her. It was at this moment that Hermione learned something new.
His calloused hands grasped her smooth ones firmly as he leaned down towards her lips. She swallowed a silent gasp before they touched lightly and her eyes fluttered shut. The kiss lasted but a minute before it ended and Hermione's face flushed in the cool night air. Viktor smiled at her before walking her back to Gryffindor Tower and bidding her goodnight.
At fifteen, she was forced to take her education into her own hands. Dolores Umbridge was an absolute ninny of a teacher and Hermione felt her grades and survival were in danger. Immediately, she goaded Harry into helping her teach Defense Against The Dark Arts to a small group of students and thus created Dumbledore's Army.
It was also in this year that she began to notice some of her other classmates' changes. She, herself, had gone through puberty and faced it down remarkably well; as did her fellow peers. Dean Thomas had grown into his broad shoulders and care-free attitude. Neville Longbottom was starting to gain more confidence, was amazingly knowledgeable about plants, and filled out a sweater-vest quite well, thank you very much. Cormic McLaggen had become a lady's-man and Hermione could tell why; with his well-built Quidditch body and dark blonde waves. Seamus Finnegan was still a little accident-prone but had proven to be fiesty and humorous in a more mature manner. Ernie Macmillan let his hair flow naturally as it fell around his eyes, his voice strong and clear, with a light smatter of freckles around big hazel eyes. Theodore Nott's brooding eyes and thick, dark hair matched with his quick-witted insults proved to be an attractive pairing. Blaise Zabini stood at a height well above the rest and he had the chiseled features of an Italian model with the always-calculating brain of a German scientist.
One of her peers which stood out amongst most, was Draco Malfoy. He no longer seemed to antagonize students visually but everyone still felt the ruling pressure of him throughout their everyday lives. He had sucked up to Umbridge instantly, and worked to make Hermione's days living hell. Each class, he would find something new to prod. Each day, he would dig in a little deeper. Each time, Hermione would find something missing in his eyes.
It wasn't as if she could suddenly read him like her books and know everything there was to know about Draco Malfoy. It was only as if the usual sparkle of torture that gleamed in his eyes just for her, had disappeared at some moment in time. There was just dull ache hiding behind pale golden eyelashes.
The bite to his insults had weakened, the sting of his words had ceased, the cruelty had dissipated into nothing. There seemed to be no joy, no humour, no fun. It was as if he continued the mocking just for the sake of remaining normal.
She wondered what had happened and what had gone wrong, for their usual discord to fizzle away. Once in a while, she would catch silver eyes watching her from across the Great Hall and then a sneer would slip across his face as she stared right back. There was a thought niggling at the back of her mind that she kept pushing back farther and farther.
If she had noticed his changes through the years; had he noticed hers?
At sixteen, Hermione felt her first heartbreak.
Witnessing Ron and Lavender entangled with each other was nauseating and ached like an open hole in her chest. She cried into Harry's shoulder as he ran his hand in circles on her back. She couldn't help but feel slightly better at the comforting fact that Harry had chosen her side over Ron's; however, her chest still ached and her stomach still rolled.
She went throughout her days numb. She laughed and smiled, but overall grew distant and out of touch from everyone but Harry. As she watched Lavender's tongue slip into Ron's mouth once more, she abruptly stood and announced she was going to the library before disappearing from the Great Hall. No one followed.
She spent most mealtimes with her nose deep into a book, hair dancing precariously over her untouched plate of food. Fifteen minutes into the meal and she would gather her things, give Harry a quick squeeze on the shoulder, and return to the library.
Her favorite chair was in front of a small windowsill, overlooking the Great Lake. The sparkling light of the sunset drizzled through the glass and appeared shattered across the floor in front of her. With her back to the window, her eyes scanned the book in her hands carelessly. She had already read every book in the library about five times. She raised her wrist to glance at the time on her watch.
Seven o'clock.
She heaved a sigh before packing her things slowly and returning to her dormitory. Ron and Lavender had usually finished their public make out sessions by seven-fifteen.
As she and Harry bent their heads together in the Great Hall, Dean Thomas had sat down with Ginny Weasley a little ways down the table. Harry's eyes caught Dean's hand snaked around Ginny's waist and his head knocked against Hermione's as he quickly straightened. Hermione noticed where he was staring and sighed. Harry still hadn't come to terms with the fact that he liked Ginny. It was becoming unbearable; all of the emotions and feelings that were filling the Great Hall began to give her a headache.
She bid Harry goodbye and headed off to the library.
When she arrived at her chair, it was occupied. A head of blonde hair was hanging off one armrest while long legs dangled off the other. Slytherin robes were in a pile on the floor and a shirtsleeve-covered arm lay across Draco Malfoy's closed eyes.
Hermione stood still for a moment, taking in the scene before her. Draco's lips were pulled into a thin line and his hair was disheveled, as if he had been pulling at it in every direction. His tie was loose around his neck with the first three buttons of his shirt undone. He had at some point kicked off his shoes as they lay near his robes and she noticed a small brown bag near the leg of the chair.
She cleared her throat.
Draco instantly had his wand at her neck with her pushed up against a bookcase, both of them breathing heavily. His eyes were wild and his eyebrows were raised up towards his hairline. As he recognized her, he seemed to calm down and a frown embellished itself on his face.
"The fuck do you want, Granger?" Hermione stiffened. Neither of them moved from where they stood, face-to-face.
"I came to read in my favorite chair, Malfoy. Where's the crime in that?" Her fingers itched towards the inside pocket of her robe for her wand but Draco caught the twitching. In a single movement, he had caught both her wrists in one of his hands, raising them above her head, and slipped her wand into the hand holding his wand as well. Her jaw dropped slightly at his speed and his trademark smirk returned to his face.
"You didn't think I'm as dumb as Weasley, now did you?" At the mention of Ron, Hermione felt the blood run to her toes. Draco must have noticed her increasing paleness and let out a short, cold laugh. "Oh, that's right, you and him aren't speaking at the moment."
"My relationships are none of your concerns, Malfoy." She growled softly, before pushing back on his hands and slamming her elbows into his chest. He fell back slightly, but tightened his grip and stepped closer. He lowered his face to hers and she held her breath. Draco's nose was a millimeter from her own, his eyelashes close to grazing her cheek.
"Don't push me, Granger." Molten silver eyes darkened into stormclouds, his top lip drawing up in a sneer. He nudged his nose against hers lightly, before backing away from her face.
His grip loosened slightly and she took the opportunity to rip free, small hands slapping into his chest hard. His eyes widened for a split second before something happened that had Hermione questioning everything she knew.
Draco's hand gripped the back of her neck, the other grasping her waist and pulling her towards him. His head dipped, her arms latched onto his biceps subconsciously, and all of a sudden the world had stopped.
Lips clashed and teeth clicked but quickly, as her eyes fell shut, everything grew softer. His hands relaxed, his arms a blanket enveloping her, and his mouth stopped its harsh conquest. Her lips parted under the soft ministrations and his tongue slipped between, taking what he wanted.
She heard nothing but the pounding rush of blood in her ears, felt his cold body melt under her touch, tasted the mint of toothpaste and the butterscotch cream pudding of dinner, smelled the woodsy scent of his clothes from Quidditch practice and the homely musk of the books around them, and saw the reddish-golden light of the setting sun through her closed eyelids.
A sigh escaped her mouth as his hand moved to caress her cheek and she remembered whose arms she was in with a start.
Hermione pulled back quickly, almost falling over and back into the bookshelf. Draco stared at her for a moment before backing away as well. Stumbling over her feet and lost for words, Hermione turned on her heel and ran.
Back in her dormitory, she ran a finger over the slight swelling of her bottom lip, remembering his tongue traveling across it before it had begun tracing across her teeth and tongue. This second kiss had been glorious, but with the wrong person. Hermione's brain raced to come up with any conclusion for what had occured this evening. She resolved to finding out tomorrow, pulling her curtain shut and crawling under her covers.
"Malfoy!" Hermione called him back into the potions classroom as he began to leave. His shoulders stiffened but he turned to face her nonetheless. Everyone else had departed and Slughorn was busy talking to Harry just outside the door. Draco's hands were in his pockets, his eyes looking down at her with a single golden eyebrow raised in question.
"What is it, Granger? I'm a very busy person, you know." His voice was a bored drawl and she crossed her arms with a huff.
"What was that? Yesterday?" His eyebrows slanted down in what could be percieved to be a glare.
"Like I said, I'm a busy person. Just blowing off steam the best way I know how; a good snog. Of course, it was quite unfortunate to have been you I came across. . ." His sentence trailed off as he smirked. Her eyes rolled.
"Oh, yes, I'm sure it was quite unfortunate that you chose to kiss a mudblood. It won't be happening again." On that note, Hermione went to walk past him. His arm flew out to catch her and she turned. Draco seemed to study her for a moment, giving Hermione a slight flashback to the look she'd give Leroy as she watched him. Heat rose to her cheeks as he slipped his fingers around her forearm. A slight tug and she was up against his chest, lungs struggling for air as she looked up at him.
"Don't use that word. It's vulgar." With that, he released her and started back out the classroom. She gaped after him before coming back to her senses.
"Hey! You called me that for four years!" He paused in the doorway.
"People change, Granger. Don't be so surprised that I'm not a prejudiced, spoiled brat anymore." He spoke over his shoulder before disappearing. Hermione was left questioning once again. More importantly, she wondered when had he ever had such deep dark circles under his eyes?
At seventeen, Hermione lost her virginity. Not in a way she had ever hoped, nor with the person she was quite hoping it would be, but in a situation she never thought would arise at any time.
They had been on the run for three months. Ron had left. She and Harry sat on her bed inside the tent, just leaning into each other. They often took comfort like this; knowing the other was close and feeling them shift every so often on the mattress.
This night was worse than usual. Hermione was struggling with the thought of Ron, who might have been captured by Snatchers or worse. Harry, she noticed, was trying to cope with leaving Ginny. She could see the gears shifting in his head, could practically hear them clicking as they rotated. His glasses lay on the table and his fingers circled small patterns across her thigh. Her arm was slipped through his and she curled her fingers tighter around his bicep. He looked at her and she saw hesitation slip across his face. He had come to a conclusion of sorts but was wary to act.
"Hermione. . ." She nodded, leading him to continue. "Could we. . .can we maybe just, be together? For tonight?" His voice sounded weaker than usual, his resolve broken down. She knew what he was insinuating but also knew it would be tougher to accomplish if they didn't talk it through first.
"Harry. You need to tell me what you want, then we can work through it together." He nodded.
"Did you and Ron ever, like, sleep together?" She shook her head, blush creeping over her cheeks. Maybe, she thought, it would be easier if they didn't talk about it.
"Me and Gin never. . .I just mean, maybe we could-"
"I changed my mind, Harry, don't speak." She leaned forward, catching his open lips with her own. It was her first time ever initiating and she didn't know how to continue. Luckily, Harry came to his senses and leaned her back onto the bed, instantly taking control.
It was slow, agonizing even, and Hermione closed her eyes the entire time. The pain at first was tough to get past but the more she relaxed and the softer Harry's touches were, the more bearable it all was. Their movements were stiff and awkward; sometimes his arm would land on her hair or his knee dug too hard into her hip. His hair brushed against her chin and she splayed her hands across his shoulders, feeling the ridges and curves of his back. His movements between her thighs led to a few uttered moans but overall the two remained comfortably silent. Every so often his lips pressed themselves to her shoulder and he let out a ragged breath against her neck.
After a while, Harry slipped away from above her and lay next to her. Hermione worked to slow her breathing as she turned to face him finally. His eyes were closed and she noticed a wet glistening on his cheek. Her thumb brushed across the tear and he shuddered, a sob escaping his lips.
Instantly, his arms were around her and pulling her back into his chest. She held him close, running slim fingers through jet black locks. His tears dripped down her neck and towards her chest as he shook against her.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm just so scared and I didn't-"
"Shh, Harry, shh. It's alright, I understand. I'm scared too."
They held each other for the rest of the night and in the morning, they shared a look that spoke of nothing but respect for the other. The incident was not mentioned again yet never forgotten and Hermione felt closer to him somehow in a way she didn't think she would. He held a piece of her she hadn't given to anyone else as she did with him.
They resumed the search for the Horcruxes.
They had won the war. Ron had finally kissed her. It felt like fireworks and a burst of fire. His hand in hers felt like home and the warmth in her heart beat like a drum.
Right before she was to return to Hogwarts to finish her Seventh (Eighth) Year, they shared a night together. She watched Harry disappear into Ginny's bedroom and sent him a coy smile before dashing up the stairs to Ron's own room.
As she entered, the sunny smile he saved just for her was sent in her direction before he had her pressed against the covers. Ron was just as clumsy as was usual, yet his longer form had him looming over her and gaining a sense of domination. He smattered kisses down her body and took his time watching her move against him. As they joined, she let herself relax into him and reach a state of bliss. She was much louder with every move he made and pulled him closer, trying to feel a deeper spark.
He was breathless, and focused on his movements into her more than on her face. Every time she would pull him down for a kiss, he would spring back up to look down upon her writhing form. She found his never-ending gaze to be conflicting; on one hand, she enjoyed his interest, but on the other, she was self conscious of herself in this position. She shook her head to erase her thoughts, and spent the rest of the night in his arms and arching her back in response.
At eighteen, she learned that there were downsides to dating your bestfriend of seven years when you'd never had time apart.
Ron had reached a state of possessiveness. He had, after their first time together, become self-righteous and dominating. Right before she boarded the Hogwarts' train, Ron gripped her upper arms tightly and glared down at her.
"Don't ever let anyone touch you, okay? You are my girlfriend." He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead but she moved back. Confusion took over his freckled feautures and she scowled, tired of his demanding and protecting.
"I'm not helpless, Ron. I'm not an idiot and I'm not a whore. I'm also not your little pet to drag around on a string and control. Maybe we should take this time while I'm gone to just. . .live without each other. Get to know who we are without the other around." His face crumpled. "Just, please, give me a little time. I assure you, I will come right back." Her arms wrapped around his torso and he cradled her head against his chest, sighing heavily. He knew she would stand by her statement and wouldn't be changing her mind.
"Okay, but please come back." She pulled away and leaned up on tiptoes to place a kiss against his stubbly cheek. As she took a step onto the train, he reached for her hand once more. "I love you."
She smiled, a few tears prickling at the back of her eyes. She swallowed down the lump in her throat before she responded, "I love you too."
She stepped aboard and waved goodbye as the train began to pull away from the platform.
Hogwarts was calmer without Harry and Ron. She developed a schedule early on; wake for breakfast at seven, get to her morning classes early, eat lunch before heading to the library for an hour before afternoon classes (also arriving early for those), dinner with Ginny, a warm shower, then homework and reading before turning in for the night.
There were only twelve returning students for an Eighth Year. From Gryffindor: Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, Parvati Patil, and herself; from Hufflepuff: Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott; from Ravenclaw: Terry Boot, Padma Patil, and Anthony Goldstein; and from Slytherin: Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy. With the small class of students, Headmistress McGonagall decided to give them all their own common room. Hermione appreciated the gesture and enjoyed the solitude it gave her, however, it put her a bit too close to Draco Malfoy for comfort.
After her visit to Malfoy Manor, she grew wary of him and his actions. The scar on her forearm still tingled from the cursed blade and she noticed his eyes glance toward it every so often during classes. When getting placed in pairs for projects, she prayed to God that he would not be picked for her. Fortunately, Nott's brilliance stood close to her own and she was more often than not paired with him.
They developed a stoic friendship, nodding greetings in the halls and sharing a smile when the current project received an O grade.
A few months into the school year, she was faced with Draco Malfoy's presence head-on.
She was curled up on her favorite chair in the library, the sun sprinkling through and alighting across the periwinkle fabric of the chair. A muggle novel lay in her lap as she fingered the pages gently, eyes skimming across the words eagerly. From the periphery of her vision, two black dress shoes stopped in front of her. She followed them up long, trouser-clad legs to a crisp white dress shirt and finally to the face of Draco who was looking quite pale and stressed.
She blinked. His eyebrows stitched in closer together. She bit her lip. His shoulders tightened.
"Well? Can I help you, Malfoy, or are you just going to stare at me?" He scowled before nodding at her curtly.
"I came to apologize." She blinked twice.
"What?"
"You heard me, Granger." She closed her book and placed it in her bag slowly, taking her time to process what he had just told her. She stood, facing him, with her arms across her chest.
"I need an explanation." A single pale eyebrow raised.
"My aunt. Your arm." She flinched and his face relaxed slightly into what could be percieved as regret. "Everything, really. The insults and name-calling. It was wrong." He paused, taking a breath and Hermione understood how hard it was for him to own up to his past transgressions. "I was wrong." His eyes closed, his entire body tense as stone.
"Malfoy. . ." Draco's eyes opened to see she had taken a small step forward. Her hand was out in front of her and he slowly raised his own to grasp it. They shook once before parting. "You still owe me another apology, though." She continued, peering at her fingernails, the hint of a laugh in her tone.
"What more do you want from me, Granger? I apologized for being a fucking prick." He snapped, uncomfortable in the position he was in. Her eyes met his, fire against ice.
"Kissing me without my consent." His entire body unclenched itself as he let out a snort. She smiled, finally hearing a genuine laugh from him.
"I didn't hear you complaining at the time of said incident." She gasped, before leaning forward and laughing heartily. The corner of his lip twitched upwards as his eyes danced with the sparkling torture that had been missing for so long. She smiled at him, realizing that maybe this year wouldn't be so boring after all.
Christmas came around. Hermione decided to stay at Hogwarts; nonetheless Molly Weasley still sent her an invite to stay with them over the holidays. She politely declined, not yet ready to see Ron. She wanted more time to herself and to focus on who she was without the boys around. She walked Ginny to the tall oak doors and said their goodbyes before she returned to the library.
She was going to be taking extra lessons with Professor McGonagall over the holidays and wanted to reread her textbooks. The first day of the break, she spent relaxed in her chair as the light faded to dusk behind her.
Three days into the break, Draco Malfoy set himself down next to her at the Gryffindor table for lunch. She looked up from her soup at him in shock. He tugged at his tie uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the Great Hall at all the students whispering. He caught her eye staring at him and forced a smile.
"Thought acquaintances could eat lunch together." His response seemed simple, but she realized it was more him asking for acceptance. One look at the Slytherin table told her she was correct. The younger students eyed him warily and shot death glares toward him, while none of his friends seemed to be there currently. Her face was the only one friendly enough to be around.
"Are the others at home for the holidays?" She turned back to her soup after sending him a small smile. He sat stiffly, fingers digging into his thighs and she nudged his shoulder softly with her own. He balked at the contact before relaxing slightly.
"Yeah. . .they all have homes and families to be with." She stopped, spoon in the air.
"I understand." He looked at her, eyebrow creased.
"Why aren't you with your family, Granger?" Her spoon dropped. Broth splashed from the bowl, dotting red across their white shirts. She sputtered as he immediately jumped to his feet, grabbing at napkins and shoving them towards her. She grabbed them as they came, standing as well and heading for the Great Hall doors. Draco remained, watching her disappear and hearing the gossip flitter around the room. He stifled a groan and begrudgingly followed, picking up her discarded bag as he left.
She was in her chair, staring blankly out the window. The sky was bright and cloudless, light speckles of white filtering to the ground without an origin or destination in sight. Her shirt had been laid on the floor in front of her, wet spots where she had tried to clean away the stains. Her thin arms wrapped around herself, fingers plucking at the cotton of her white undershirt.
"Granger, I didn't mean to upset you. No matter if you think that was my plan, because it wasn't."
"My parents don't know who i am." Draco froze. He wasn't ready for personal confessions. This friendship was moving much too quickly for his comfort.
"I. . ."
"You don't have to say anything. I'm not asking anything of you, Malfoy." She turned to look at him, eyes empty and bland. He shuddered, not used to the fire in her not being lit. "I erased their memories to spare them from any harm." She turned back to the window. He dropped her bag by her shirt and slid to the floor in front of the bookshelf where they had first kissed. Her emotionless admission stunned him into silence. He didn't understand where to go from there and resorted to the one thing he knew would place them back on equal ground.
"Such a Gryffindor thing to do." He saw her fingers stop. "Also a stupid thing to do."
"How dare you?" She was standing again, fists clenched and teeth grating. He bounced up from the floor easily, flipping a hand across his forehead to move the hair out of his eyes.
"Why take their memories? You could have just sent them away. Even without their memories, they were in danger." She faltered, mouth dropping slightly.
"I didn't ask for your assessment of my actions, Malfoy." Hermione hissed. Draco shrugged.
"You didn't ask for anything."
"And yet here you are, offering up your pure blooded opinion on a silver platter. Expecting me to gobble it up and get on my knees, exclaiming "how right you are, Draco!", are you? I cannot believe that I thought you would, for once, understand." She was spitting her words now, stalking towards him. He stood his ground, hands stuffed in his pockets and a pinching in his gut as he realized he liked seeing her fired up. An even harder pinch as he realized he liked hearing her say his given name.
"I don't expect anything, Granger." She was so close now, he could see dark freckles dotting her nose.
"Don't fucking mock me." His eyes widened. It was the first time he had ever heard of Hermione Granger outwardly cursing. She was seething by this point, eyes burning through him.
Her eyes were burning forests of indignation and agony. Spirals of green bled through the darkest chocolate brown, as the afternoon sun circled red along her pupils. Thick long, black eyelashes blinked, once, twice, three times, before he realized she was waiting for some kind of response from him.
"I see our banter doesn't work very well if we don't keep going after each other, huh?" Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth, eyes closing resolutely.
"You were just trying to rile me up."
"I see why you're the brightest witch of your age." She grimaced, eyes still shut.
"Why? What's the point?"
"I like the vigor in your eyes." He clamped his lips shut. He didn't mean to let that slip, and yet she still hadn't opened her eyes to look at him or question his admission.
"Malfoy, I don't understand you." Hermione's eyes finally opened, her eyebrows twisted in confusion.
"Makes two of us, then." She studied him for a minute more.
"I have a private lesson I need to get to soon." He nodded. "Would you like to talk tonight?" A blonde eyebrow raised.
"Are you insinuating something, Granger? I didn't pin you as the "sultry vixen" type." She lifted a hand and he flinched, expecting her hard right hook to the face. When it didn't come, he opened an eye to see she had lowered her hand and seemed concerned.
"You thought I was going to hurt you?"
"I have a tendency to be punched by bushy haired bookworms." She winced.
"I'm sorry for that. You were just such a. . ."
"A prick?"
"Yeah. A huge prick with a much too big ego."
"Good to know those days are behind us, eh?" She rolled her eyes. "But yes." Her eyebrows drew together again.
"Yes?"
"Yes, we can talk tonight after your lesson. Meet in the common room? I'll be the single blonde model lounging on one of the couches." A laugh escaped her nose in a huff.
"Sure, works for me. I'll make sure to look for the platinum headed git who I've unfortunately have decided to become friends with."
"Friends? Now that's a novel idea."
"Oh, shut up."
"Malfoy. . .Malfoy. . . Draco!" Fingers prodded into his side and he awoke with a start, promptly falling off the couch. The black quilt he had been covered with wrapped around his legs and he twisted as he fell, landing on his face.
"Urngh. . ."
"Sorry." Hermione's voice was punctuated by a giggle. "How was your nap?" Draco sat up and glared at her through groggy eyes. His pale fingers pulled at his eyelashes to release any sleep there was left before he stood.
"It was glorious until some bloody moron decided to tickle me to death and yell in my ear." Hermione sat down on the opposite side of the couch as he relaxed onto it again.
"Okay, one: I was not aware you were ticklish, so it's not my fault you had that reaction to my poking. Two: I was not yelling. I was whispering loudly. And three: why didn't you go to bed if you were so tired?"
"I just don't sleep very well, even when I'm tired." He didn't meet her eyes, instead focusing on the twirling flame in the fireplace. The Christmas tree that sat in the corner of the room had its lights blinking rhythmically and casting red, green, yellow, and blue dots of color across the walls.
"You have nightmares too." It wasn't a question. They locked eyes. He swallowed. She looked away.
"What did you want to talk about, Granger?"
"I figured just regular friend things."
"Regular. . .friend things."
"Well, yes." She bit her lip as her fingers tugged at the ends of her curls.
"And what, pray tell, are regular friend things to talk about?"
"I-I'm not quite sure, actually. . ." Draco raised an eyebrow at her.
"Well, this is going swimmingly already, isn't it?"
"Don't be a prick, Malfoy."
"Ahh, but it's what I'm best at being."
"Shut up. Just. . .you think of something."
"Me?"
"Yeah, since you seem to know everything."
"I am quite the genius."
"Oh, screw it, maybe I was wrong in thinking we could hold a normal conversation." She moved to head towards her room. "Goodnight then."
"No, no. We can do this. Let's start with your lesson tonight. How was that?" Hermione paused at the mention of her meeting with McGonagall. She turned back to the couch and placed her hands on her hips.
"Oh, you wouldn't believe. . ."
It was the thirty-first of December, 1998, around eleven forty five at night. Hermione lay beside a large oak tree at the banks of the somewhat frozen Great Lake. The stars sparkled and winked down at her, shimmering like broken glass upon the thick, dark carpet of the universe beyond. She closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of the wind brushing across her cheeks and the cool blanket of snow below her.
The snow crunched behind her as someone approached, and then they had joined her on the ground. She inhaled, taking in the familiar scent of him.
"Happy New Years." She whispered, not yet wishing to break the silence but desperate to say something. He let out a breath beside her.
"Let's hope it's better than the last." Draco's voice was quiet, deeper even. She opened one eye to look at him. He was sitting, staring out across the lake. His arms were wrapped around his knees, lips starkly pink against his pale features, blonde hair peeking out from under a jade coloured winter cap.
She opened both eyes as she sat up to join him. He looked at her, tongue darting out across his bottom lip. She held out a hand to him, palm upwards.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you always show me compassion after what all happened? Why do you talk to me?" Hermione smiled softly, her eyes laughing.
"I like the vigor in your eyes." His eyebrows raised slowly, as did his hand, and he slipped his fingers in between hers. They both looked back to the sky, hands loosely held together by a feeling neither could pinpoint. The time passed and the New Year slipped by them without hesitation. At some point, they had lain back down and talked softly with breath billowing like steam from their mouths in the cold air.
Without realizing it, they had ended up drifting off to sleep while looking up at the stars. They awoke in the morning to the glowy rising sun brushing against their eyelids and birds calling for them to attention; their fingers still clasped together and faces close enough to touch.
Hermione,
Hope everything's going well. We miss you quite a bit. Gin told us that you've been working with Nott in classes and you two seem to get along well. How are the other returning Slytherins? How is everyone who has returned? I hope your nightmares aren't too bad. Ron sorely wishes you'd write more but I told him to give you some time. Hope to see you soon.
With Love,
Harry
Hermione smiled at the parchment in her hands. She leaned back on the couch, arm brushing against Draco's. He glanced up from his book to see Harry's looping scrawl and her girlish grin.
"You seem happy to be hearing from Potter." She looked up at him, sliding closer towards him. Their arms pressed together tightly before he raised his to sling across the back of the couch, barely brushing her shoulder with his fingertips.
"Ginny comes back today. I want you to hang out with us." He blinked, staring straight ahead before whipping his head around to face her.
"You what?"
"I want the three of us to hang out together. I want her to get to know you."
"Why?"
"Because. . .well, I. . ."
"Is this relationship of ours getting serious and I just didn't know it?" He joked, tapping her shoulder from behind. She stuck out her tongue at him before shaking her head with a soft laugh.
"Don't get all perverted on me now, Malfoy."
"As long as you don't get too clingy, Granger."
"Just come sit with us for dinner." She turned big doe eyes in his direction as he turned it over in his head. She obviously wasn't giving up.
"Fine. Dinner."
"What the fuck is Malfoy doing here?" The redhead's arrival was punctuated by the look of disgust on her face. Draco glared as Hermione's face fled of colour.
"Ginny, listen, he's alright." Ginny seemed to disagree with the pained look she sent to Hermione, as if Hermione had gone insane while she was gone. "He's different. Just sit down and have dinner, please."
"Why the fuck should I?" Her arms were crossed over her chest defiantly and her jaw was clenched.
"Because you two are important to me and I want you to get along." At Hermione's confession of Draco's importance to her, Ginny froze and Draco choked on his pumpkin juice.
"Fine. Dinner." Ginny slammed her hands on the table as she sat down, causing Draco to flinch towards Hermione. Hermione's hand dropped to his and Ginny caught the rubbing of his thumb over her own before they parted. What the hell had happened while she had been gone?
It was Febraury fourteenth, 1999. Hermione sat at the Three Broomsticks at a booth across from Harry and Ginny. Harry had come to surprise the two and she was thankful for his presence.
Currently, however, she felt suffocated by the lovey-dovey pheromones filling the air. Before she could excuse herself from the table, a body slid into the booth next to her. She caught the scent of pine and mint before she turned to see Draco beside her. Harry had frozen, arm wrapped around Ginny's shoulder, as Ginny pleasantly greeted Draco.
"Harry, you know Malfoy." Duh.
"Yes." He clipped out.
"We're friends." Ginny nodded, poking her finger into Harry's side.
"Lighten up, babe, he's alright." Harry turned to her, shocked at how well she was taking this, before sighing in defeat. He glanced back over at Draco and Hermione lost in conversation and noticed a shift in Draco's arm.
Harry could have sworn he saw Draco's arm slowly reach under the table for Hermione's hand and Hermione accepted it nonchalantly. He shook his head. This would take getting used to.
In March, Hermione learned not to assume things too early into a conversation.
"I cannot believe you would even think to say something like that to me!" Hermione threw the ink-pot on her desk towards Draco. He ducked, and it smashed against the wall behind him. He muttered the Scourgify charm under his breath quickly, waving a hand towards the stains distractedly. She turned to find something else to throw at him.
"Granger, come on." Another ink-pot hurtled his direction. "Granger, I didn't mean to offend you." A compact mirror smashed in front of him. "Hermione, will you fucking quit it?" She froze.
"You said my name."
"So?"
"That's my name."
"Of fucking course it's your name, am I not supposed to use it?" He was two steps away from her now, both of their chests heaving. Her grip on the journal she had been about to throw loosened slightly.
"You never do." He stopped, his arms raised towards her.
"I. . .of course I do."
"No. You've never called me "Hermione" before."
"And? Is this some groundbreaking event, then?" The journal fell from her fingertips.
"Why? Why did you say Ron never deserved me?" Her voice was a whisper. "Do you really think so highly of him that you think I'm not worthy of him?" He stepped back, arms dropping to his side as he realized that what he meant as a compliment came off to her as an insult.
"I didn't mean it like that, you fucking idiot." He sighed. She looked to be on the verge of tears. He stepped closer again, gripping her shoulders. She held her breath. "I mean, he never deserved you because you're too good for him." Her eyes finally rose to meet his. "Just because he sends you a bloody owl begging for you to come back sooner because he "loves you" does not mean you should. You came back to Hogwarts to find you, to find what you wanted out of life. Do you really want to go back to being Harry Potter and Ron Weasley's tag-a-long?" She stiffened under his touch. He let go.
"I'm sorry if that came out harsh. I just think that you're more than Weasley's little housewife. You're Hermione Granger. You're a badass who can solve puzzles like nobody's business and put people in their place when they're fucking pricks; such as yours truly. Don't let anyone hold you back." He backed towards the door, his hand sliding over the knob. "Fuck shit up. That's my mantra, and I'm pretty sure it's yours too." He turned to leave.
"Draco, wait." Her voice was choked. His head swiveled to see her. She had stepped closer, her hand just brushing his shoulder. Softly, she placed both hands on his shoulders and spun him slowly to face her completely. Her eyes were damp acres of fallen leaves, browns burnt with light reds and oranges.
"That is the nicest thing anyone has ever told me." His heart dropped.
"I'm so sorry." She blinked, wide wet eyes staring through his soul.
"Don't ever apologize to me ever again, you asshole." Her arms were wrapping around his neck, pulling him down to hug her tightly. She pressed her chest into his own and drew a deep breath as she buried her nose into his neck. Draco let his arms sweep her up until there was no space left between them.
All too soon, they released their grip on one another. Hermione's hands rested on Draco's chest as he let his fingers hover over her hips. They were silent for a moment, lost in the other's eyes. Hermione's fingers trailed up his neck slowly, leading to his jaw, before resting along his cheek. He leaned into her, and she acted before thinking.
Her lips were pressed against his for only a second before he could register the impact. By that point she had retracted, waiting for his reaction.
He responded by kissing her full force, drawing her tighter against him. Her hands slid back around his neck, one slipping into his hair and clinging onto the platinum locks. His arms encircled her waist as his feet propelled them both towards her four-poster bed.
The back of her knees hit the edge and she dropped down, him landing skillfully atop her. Her hands reached down towards his waist and gripped the hem of his shirt, tugging upwards and he obliged. Ripping away from her lips with a gasp, he pulled the material over his head and threw it behind him.
Her lips were swollen cherries, eyes ablaze with want, and chest heaving rhythmically. Her fingers slid over his exposed skin before pulling him back to her. His hands flitted under her shirt and his fingernails grazed down her bare sides as she arched into him. She made to remove her own shirt, but Draco had grabbed her hands.
"Do you want to do this?" She looked at him, studying the self-doubt and fear that flickered in his eyes.
"Why are you asking?"
"I just don't want this to be. . .I'm not something to just blow off steam, Granger." He stood upright, looking down at her laying on the bed. Her brow furrowed.
"You're not, Malfoy. Now take my fucking shirt off." He paused, once more, before leaning closer.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" His voice was a whisper and yet it sent shivers down her spine.
"I'm not a virgin. I know what I want and I take it when I can." He blinked, surprised. "And what I want right now, is for you to fucking plow me, Malfoy, so why the hell aren't you doing that?" His mouth dropped open at her glare and demanding tone.
His lips smashed into hers again as he ripped up on the cotton t-shirt. She slid her arms out of it and pulled it over her head as they split once again. Soon, their pants joined the pile of clothes they had discarded.
Hermione lay back on her pillows, Draco's hand creeping down her side towards her inner thigh. She sighed against his lips as he pressed a finger against the hem of her underwear. Slowly, his fingers brushed across the covered mound and she arched back into him. Their lips separated as he bent his head towards her neck, dropping kisses down to her chest.
This was new to Hermione. Everything was moving much more slowly than it ever had, with either Harry or Ron. It felt like much more than just sex at this point; it was more of a declaration of something deeper that neither of them had come to admit to.
His lips had stopped at the cup of her bra, his hands coming back up to pull the straps down her shoulders before reaching behind to unclip it completely. As he tossed it behind him, her eyes caught his and he smiled. She was lost for breath as his curved lips touched against her hardened nipple and, as his tongue flicked out to wet it, she inhaled harshly before melting deeper into him.
Suddenly, his mouth was gone and she cried out in retribution until he began to kiss her once again. Her hands traveled down his chest before tracing the line of his boxers and relishing in the large mass she had created beneath her hand. He moaned against her lips and she raised herself to press their bare chests together.
"For fucks sake. . .I'm trying to take this. . .at least a little. . .slow." Draco stumbled over his words as she shifted below him.
"Why's that?" They parted for a moment, his hair sticking in every direction and his pale cheeks brightly pinked.
"I'd like this to last as long as I can make it." Hermione smiled up at him, before taking his face in her hands and kissing him painfully slow. His fingers dropped back down to her underwear and slipped beneath, teasing the soft outer lips. She broke from his lips with a gasp as his cold hands delved deeper.
He smirked that glorious trademark smirk and Hermione felt herself blossom as he slid a finger between and pressed at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her eyes rolled back slightly, having never experienced this quite before. She and Harry had just done it quickly and moved on; while Ron had never really enjoyed using his hands on her. Draco noticed her reaction and stopped.
"Are you sure you're not a virgin?" She fell from her reverie and sent him a scowl.
"Yes, I'm sure. I've had sex with multiple people, mind you. Just. . .no ones ever, well. . ." She bit her lip. Draco dropped his nose down to bump hers.
"No one else was the Slytherin "Sex God"." His lips were curved in such an adorable way that Hermione felt like hugging him. Instead, she snorted.
"Uh-huh. "Sex God", yeah that's exactly what you are. Why don't you shut up and prove it then?" The dare in her voice caused him to sit up above her. Thoughts were spinning through his head as he looked down at her, brown curls spread around her face and freckles even darker against the deep maroon blush of her cheeks.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard, Granger, that you won't be able to walk straight." Her eyes narrowed.
"Prove it." His eyes alit with pleasure. He leaned back down until his lips were next to her ear.
"I'm going to mark you as mine so everyone in this damn world knows I'm the one who fucked you senseless." At this remark, Hermione shivered and then Draco's teeth dug into her neck as the breath left her lungs. His tongue laved over the sore spot before he returned with a, literally, biting fervor. Soon, her neck was splotched with angry red welts and her eyes watered. He leaned back to admire his work layered across her dark skin. She watched him with fascination, enjoying the way his eyes trailed over her slowly.
She took this moment to flip him over on the bed. Hermione straddled him, arms coming up to cross over her chest. She became self-aware of the view this provided him but had become too confident in her actions to care as much as she would have. Draco's eyes widened in surprise but he said nothing. She lay over him, lips hovering over his collarbone before she placed a soft kiss on his cool skin.
Draco sighed, hands running up and down her sides, eyes flickering closed as she placed small kisses along his chest. Without warning, she sunk her teeth in where his neck met his shoulder and he jumped. His fingers squeezed into her sides as she continued to suck and nibble along his neck and shoulders. Soon, his white neck was adorned by the same swollen spots as her own. Hermione's lips twisted into her own version of the Malfoy smirk and he gaped up at her.
"You have no idea how much that turned me on." The words slipped through his lips before he had even thought to say them. The smirk on her face grew into a large, blinding smile. Before he could even move, she had somehow removed her underwear and waved it in his face.
"I'm ready to find out." At this, his mind threw the gear into overdrive and he flipped her back over. Both of their underwear landed on the floor beside her nightstand. She brought his face back to her own and their lips met once more.
Slowly, Draco pulled her onto him. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist and pulled, dropping him completely onto her. Their lips broke apart and she moaned loudly. His eyes raked over her face; eyes closed, lips parted, hair spread everywhere, skin slick with sweat. His hand grasped her thigh and squeezed, before he pulled slowly back. Her hands scratched across his back and he arched, delving back into her and delivering another gorgeous moan from her lips.
This pattern continued until a heavy rhythm ensued, Hermione's cries filling the room and Draco thanking the gods that she had Silencing Charms. Skin smacked against skin and Hermione's teeth had found their way back to his shoulders, leaving purple bruises atop the crimson bites. His forehead dropped to her shoulder, lips pressing sloppy kisses as he pounded into her over and over. Her hair stuck to his skin as the heat between them grew and her nails had drawn slight speckles of blood down his back.
All too soon, Draco found his release and fell into her. Her hand slipped into his hair, mussing it softly to help him relax. A moment later, and she had been pulled towards the edge of the bed, Draco on his knees in front of her. She leaned up on her elbows and looked down at him in confusion. His eyebrow raised in a laughing manner and suddenly, his mission was clear as his tongue slid along her inner thigh. Her head fell back as his breath danced across her open legs.
His lips pressed softly against her skin and his tongue was slick and smooth along her body. She bucked her hips into him, fingers curling into his hair, as he happily brought her to her own release. A cracked scream loosened the tension from her body as she collapsed back on the bed, hands dropping from his head. He climbed back up her body to kiss her. His hands cupped her face delicately and she responded to his touches with a mewing hum.
They lay, skin to skin, on her rumpled blankets. His arms wrapped protectively around her waist as she held his head against her beating heart. They fell asleep, paying no mind to the muggle alarm clock on her nightstand that read two o'clock AM.
"Hermione. . .I hate to ask but I feel I must. . ." Ginny trailed off, a finger pressed to her lips. Hermione looked at her, eyebrows raised in asking.
"Yeah?"
"What's wrong with your neck?" Neville asked for Ginny. Dean, sitting next to her, nodded and raised a finger as if to prod the flesh in question. Her face filled with a blush deep enough to conquer their Gryffindor maroon and cleared her throat.
"Well, I. . ."
"How's it going, Gryffindors?" Draco slid onto the bench in the open spot next to her, shirt uncharacteristically unbuttoned two from the top with his tie loose. She blanched when she noticed why; for his neck was also riddled with bright purple and red hickeys, courtesy of herself. She brought her eyes back to meet Ginny, whose fair eyebrows had seemed to disappear into her hair entirely.
"You have a lot of explaining to do." Were Ginny's only words before she returned to her breakfast. Draco looked over at Hermione, smirking at the small glare she sent him. Her hand raised subconsciously to her own uncovered neck and rubbed at the sore areas she knew must be brightly coloured despite her dark complexion. Draco's teeth were sharp and his lips amazingly good at suctioning all of her blood into one area. She kicked his foot under the table and he bumped her shoulder in response. Her eyes rolled. It was going to be a long day.
In April, Hermione learned that just casual sex with Draco Malfoy was not possible even though it was quite fun.
Her back was pressed against an abandoned desk, his hands teasing under her skirt. His lips caressed her neck carefully, treading across healing bruises like butterfly's wings. She let her head fall back as his fingers swiveled around her clit and she moaned as quietly as she could, given the situation. He smiled against her collarbone before raising to kiss her. Their lips connected and he immediately quickened his pace, rushing her orgasm to the edge before his hand left her body.
She broke away from him with a cry and slapped a hand against his chest. He smiled down at her as her body continued to shake, brinking on her release.
"Why the hell did you stop?" His smiled dropped slightly.
"I. . .I wanted to tell you something before you choose to continue doing this with me." His eyes had darkened from their usual glowing brightness.
"Tell me quickly because I doubt whatever it is will turn me off right now." He snorted.
"Uh-huh, doubtful."
"Well?"
"Well. . .you know I've enjoyed all of this." She leaned further back and crossed her arms across her chest. He didn't continue right away so she nodded and kicked the back of his thigh with her heel lightly so he understood to go on. "It's just. . .there's something else."
"I'm not the only girl you're having sex with in random classrooms and you don't want me getting attached too easily. Sounds like a Malfoy thing to say." She sighed. His face paled considerably more than usual.
"No! No, no, I'm not. . .I'm not seeing anyone else. . ." His pause sent a tingling through her chest. "That's actually the thing. You see, I want you to know that I would like this to be. . .a, uh, an exclusive. . .thing?" He winced, bracing himself for any kind of reaction. Hermione froze underneath him.
"Malfoy. . ."
"It's totally fine if you don't want to do that. I understand. You are Hermione Granger, war hero and all that. There's probably hundreds of men just waiting to get their hands on you-" Draco had begun rambling which was completely unlike himself and made her even more nervous than she had been.
"Draco, shut up." He stopped, staring at her with what she recognized as fear in his eyes. It was the same fear he had when he first approached the Gryffindor table for lunch, the same fear when he sat down with Ginny, and the fear he held in his eyes when they had sex for the first time. It was the fear of rejection and humiliation.
"Ron is waiting for me to come home." He seemed to deflate, moving to back off from her. She clenched her thighs tighter around his hips and grabbed his shoulders. "He will be expecting me to come back to him. I told him I would." Draco's eyes seemed to close off, growing duller the longer she went on about Ron. "But. . .I never told him that I would come back as his girlfriend." He blinked. "I know who I am. I am not Harry Potter's bestfriend or Ronald Weasley's girlfriend. I am Hermione Granger, a badass and I fuck shit up. That's my mantra." A smile slowly worked from his lips back into his eyes.
"I'm going to make you cum so fucking hard, Granger. Don't ever make me panic like that ever again, for fucks sake." With that, Draco had her bent over the desk and was pushing her underwear to the side. As he slid into her from behind and slipped his fingers back to her clit, she smiled. This was exactly where she wanted to be.
In May, Hermione graduated from Hogwarts - top of her class. She fell asleep with her head in Draco's lap on the train ride back to King's Cross Station and back to normal life. As she stepped off the platfrom, gangly freckled arms embraced her and shaggy red hair filled her vision. She grinned widely, hugging Ron back. When he pulled away and went to kiss her though, she pushed her hands against his chest to stop him. He paused, confused, until he saw Draco standing sheepishly behind her with her trunk in his hand.
"Malfoy?" Hermione pulled at the ends of her curls, as she waited for the confrontation that was bound to occur. Draco came to stand next to her, now that she had been released from Ron's grip.
"Weasley."
"Why are you standing so close to Hermione? I'm sure she finds it uncomfortable." Ron's eyebrows narrowed.
"Oh, no, she's comfortable with a lot of things that might surprise you." She blushed deeply before elbowing Draco in the stomach with a quiet hiss.
"I thought you agreed not to antagonize him."
"But it's just too easy." He smiled down at her. Ron's mouth dropped. He had never seen Draco smile before, and most certainly not at Hermione. Harry and Ginny then decided to join the trio, still standing next to the train.
"Hey, Ron!" Ginny's hand waved excitedly towards her brother before she bounded over, Harry following with a grin plastered on his face.
"Are you two friends now or something?" Ron completely ignored Ginny, much to her disdain. She crossed her arms across her chest.
"'Or something' fits perfectly for them." Ginny huffed, finally catching Ron's attention. Harry snorted, turning his face into his shoulder to try and cover the amused look on his face as Ron desperately tried to fit the pieces together.
Hermione's blush reached an unnameable shade as Draco's chest brushed against her back as he stood behind her, almost seeming to protect her small frame with his own taller one. Ron's face grew beet red as his ears also flamed.
"What happened?" His voice was low.
"I wooed her away with my Slytherin charms and good looks. Naturally, she fell for me." Draco drawled, reveling in Ron's growing anger. However, when Ron turned his anger towards Hermione, his face became devoid of emotion and his eyes burned like coal.
"You promised! You promised me that you would come back, and yet here you are, fucking this prat!" Ron's voice grated through her entire body and caused tears to well to her eyes. Draco immediately placed himself between the two of them.
"Don't talk to her like that." His voice was low and dangerous, and unfortunately, Ron was too slow to notice the malicious intent stored there. He pushed back on Draco's chest.
"Hey, Ron, man, come on." Harry stepped in as well. "Let's go home, get a good lunch, and talk all of this out." Ron barely seemed to hear him. His eyes were locked on Draco, watching his movements very carefully. Ginny approached.
"Don't be a fucking asshole, Ronald." He turned to his little sister, a vicious sneer prominent on his gentle features.
"Whose side are you on?"
"I'm on my bestfriend's side. Which is where you should be as well, except you're trying to be a macho douchebag and it's not very attractive. Leave them alone to figure out what they're doing with their lives and work on your own fucked up shit. I heard you weren't doing too well in Auror training. Maybe you should fix that before trying to force Hermione to stay on your arm." The siblings were nose to nose, matching glares and freckles. With a grumble, Ron turned on his heel and disappeared through the barrier.
"Give him time. He'll get over it." Ginny announced, standing with her hands on her hips victoriously. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist before placing a kiss to her cheek and walking them towards the barrier as well.
Draco turned to Hermione. Tears had tracked down her cheeks without realizing, and he leaned towards her to brush them away. Soon, she was enveloped in his arms.
"Wanna go have angry sex?" She mumbled into his shoulder. He laughed, shaking his head at just how exactly did her mind work?
Sure. Where to?" He placed a kiss against her curls before she leaned back to look at him.
"Anywhere but the Burrow." He raised an eyebrow.
"The hell is the Burrow?"
"Nowhere important. Not currently, anyways. Let's go." She pulled him towards the barrier and as he watched her walk ahead of him, he wondered where she had ever learned to love because hell was it hard to get anything straight out of her.
At twenty, she learned that marriage was fucking hard.
Wedding planning was shit. In-Laws were fucking difficult. And not being able to see the groom before she walked down the aisle? Hell on Earth.
She wondered how Ginny had done it, just a year before her. She even thought to question her Maid of Honour just how exactly she was meant not to jump her fiancé on the spot when she saw him in that suit. . .
But then, she had finally walked down the aisle with her small bouquet in hands. The tiny Muggle church she had wanted was out of the question. A large pureblooded extravaganza was also out of the question. Instead, they had decided on a small, quiet ceremony on the beach near Fleur and Bill's home.
There were only a few guests. Harry walked her down the aisle, planting a kiss on her forehead before letting her go. Ginny stood next to Kingsley, who was officiating, and took Hermione's bouquet when she arrived at the altar. When she looked back at the small gathering of people, she saw all of the Weasley's, Ron included with his new girlfriend on his arm, Narcissa Malfoy, Andromeda Tonks, Luna Lovegood, Theodore Nott, Neville Longbottom, and Minerva McGonagall. She returned her gaze to her groom and his Best Man, Blaise Zabini.
Draco was stunning in his suit and tie, and her eyes roamed his body without hesitation. His eyes remained on hers, a smile gracing his lips just enough so she would be the only one to see how he lit up just for her.
Little Teddy Lupin pattered down the aisle, a pillow in his hands with two rings placed on top. They had decided on a more Muggle cultured theme with Wizarding vows, which seemed to fit them perfectly. When Teddy approached Draco with her ring, his hair flashed into a platinum blonde. The guests laughed.
As Draco slid the silver band onto her finger, his fingertips clenched tighter around her wrist as they locked eyes. A gleaming golden stream circled around the grip he had on her before it disappeared and he softened his grasp. She felt the dampness behind her eyelids and smiled at him.
Teddy handed her Draco's ring and his eyes turned big and brown to match her own, which she and Draco were the only two to notice. She nodded at him, thanking him for his help, before he scurried off to jump into Andromeda's lap.
She turned back to Draco, repeating the same actions he had performed. As the golden light flickered away, the small crowd began to clap. Draco's hand grabbed her waist and pulled her into him before he dipped her slightly, catching her lips in a kiss sweeter than any other. She hummed against him.
Married life was looking good already.
At twenty-two, Hermione learned that Draco was extremely wary of surprises when there didn't seem to be any celebration of sorts going on.
When he came home to the lights off, he instantly panicked. He burst into the house, wand raised, curses ready to fly off his tongue. What he found, was candles lit in a sort of path. He was immediately confused.
"Hermione, love?" He called towards the master bedroom. She responded with a sing-songy, "yes, dear?" and his suspensions mounted. What could she have planned now?
When he arrived in their room, he was greeted by Hermione sitting cross legged on their bed while dressed only in one of his button-up shirts. There was a box on the bed in front of her and he approached it warily, poking it with his wand and shooting her a cautious glance. She nodded at the box, seeming to urge him to open it.
He placed a finger under the top before flipping it off and backing away, as if expecting to be attacked. Instead, nothing happened except for Hermione's smile growing wider. His face paled. What was in the box?
He stepped back towards the bed and looked in, seeing some sort of. . .muggle marker? He reached in to pull it out. It sure was a weird looking marker. Hermione's smile grew.
"Do you know what that is?" He shook his head.
"Look at it carefully. Does it have a plus or minus sign on it?"
"Uh. . .a plus, I think. What is it?" He looked up at her. She was crying! "Oh, no, no, Hermione! Don't cry, love! What's wrong? What happened?" He pushed the box off the bed and crawled up towards her, the "marker" still in his hand. She laughed, pulling him up against her.
"Yes, it's a plus sign. Draco, that's a muggle pregnancy test." He blinked, staring at her with a raised eyebrow. "A plus means the test is positive." He blinked again, before looking down at the tiny white stick in his hand.
"Positive. . .pregnancy test?" She nodded, biting her lip. "Then that means. . ." A smile lit up his entire face as he turned back to her. "That means-!" He began to bounce on the bed as she laughed again. "You're pregnant! I'm a father! You're a mother! Holy shit, I'm a father. . .oh my God. I'm a father. Will I be a good father? What if I'm not? What do I do if I'm not?" She cupped his face in her hands.
"You will be the best father." She pressed her lips to his own. He smiled into the kiss, drawing her closer to him and laying them across the bed. This surprise was worth the scare.
At thirty-three, she sent off her firstborn to Hogwarts.
She and Draco stood hand in hand as they watched Scorpius push his trolley through the barrier at King's Cross. Little ten-year-old Rose stood behind him, criticizing how he approached the wall. His large barn owl hooted at her indignantly as he scowled at his sister. His blonde curls fell into his eyes and he shook his head as he tried once more to align his cart perfectly to the column. Rose's steely grey eyes watched him closely as he finally disappeared.
Hermione took Rose's hand and the three of them followed after.
The steam billowing from the Hogwarts Express filled the air with a smell of home, and Draco and Hermione both took a deep breath as they remembered their times here boarding the train. Scorpius hauled his trunk and owl up onto the train where he found a compartment with James Potter. He then rushed back down to give his mother and father each a hug goodbye and a promise to owl them as soon as he possibly could. Their son vanished once more onto the train. Rose sulked in front of them, watching the older children clamber onto the train.
Draco stooped down next to her.
"Now that Scorpius is off to be a brainy bookworm, how about you and me get some flying practice in?" Her face immediately brightened and she started back towards the barrier, pulling her father's hand with her. Hermione laughed as she watched the two walk away before she looked back to see Scorpius' iridescent eyes searching for her. The timid boy raised a hand in farewell and she responded in kind, blowing a kiss toward him as his pale features alit with blush just like his father.
The train began to pull away and she waited until it had raced off before turning to find her husband and daughter.
Before she stepped back through the wall, she turned her gaze back to where she had once stood around twenty-three years before. She could almost see the small bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl jumping with excitement as her muggle parents looked around in fascination. As she stood there, reminiscing, the years seemed to flicker by as if on a movie screen.
She was twelve and had to board the train alone, Harry and Ron nowhere to be seen and she wondered if they had abandoned her.
She was thirteen and the threat of an escaped prisoner had her parents on edge but she still assured them she would be perfectly safe at Hogwarts.
She was fourteen and the Quidditch World Cup had her shaken up for the rest of the school year, so she was cautious as she boarded the train.
She was fifteen and the threat of Voldemort hung over her head like a stormcloud, threatening everything she loved and cared for.
She was sixteen and she had begun to feel more confident in herself and her abilities, walking onto the train with a new fire in her eyes. Having been surrounded by the Order of the Phoenix almost all summer had given her a feeling of importance and she wore it proudly.
She was seventeen and hadn't been able to step foot anywhere near King's Cross Station. She raced off on adventures with Harry and Ron.
She was eighteen and she left Ron standing on the platform before she returned to Hogwarts with a clean emptiness filling her soul.
She was eighteen and stepped off the train in May, with Draco Malfoy standing right behind her.
She was eighteen and stood on this very platform being yelled at by someone she had once loved.
She was eighteen and Draco stood up to protect her against her bestfriend.
She was eighteen and she was in love with a man she had known almost her whole life as the enemy.
She was eighteen and she ran away with him.
She was thirty-three and still in love.
She was thirty-three and still running.
Hermione smiled.
All was well.