This is my first story on here... its published elsewhere too, but I thought I'd put it here. I would welcome anything anyone has to say about it. It's Dramione, so yeah. The first parts are kinda bad but I think it gets better as it goes on.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, you really think I do? I'm just a girl with an internet connection.
"Who is Head Boy?" Hermione asks, waiting for whoever had come back for 7th year, in McGonagalls office. Well, actually it is the Headmistress' office now. With Dumbledore gone.
"You might be mad. You've had many run-ins with him in past years." McGonagall tells her.
"Not Malfoy!"
"Why, Granger, its as if you are sad I'm back." Hermione jumps up, spinning around quickly to face the one Draco Malfoy, who was leaning casually against the door frame.
"And I wonder why. You tried to kill Dumbledore, you watched be being tortured by Bellatrix. You watched her carve th-" her voice breaks a bit, and her eyes tear up, but she goes on,"this into my arm." She pulls up her sleeve revealing 'Mudblood' carved into her arm. "You watched it. All of it. You did nothing. You were on Voldemort's side the whole time. And you wonder why I hate you." She steps toward him, showing the scars from it. "Your smart, think for a moment."
"I didn't have a choice! You think I believed what Voldemort did? If I didn't do it, my father would, he would he-" his voice breaks.
"Maybe we should go onto another topic. The war seems to be a sore and soft topic for both of you." McGonagall.
"No. I want to talk about it. But maybe just to Gr-Her-Gr. Her. " he says, gesturing to Hermione, unsure what to call he's polite. For a change.
"Of course." McGonagall gets up and walks past the two out the door. She closes the door behind herself and they wait out her receding footsteps.
"Hermione. I didn't have a choice."
"You always have a choice!"
"Do you know what Crucio even- you do. All the time. If I didn't do as Father said, he would use it on me. Or something else he could hurt me with! All my childhood. He ruined it. And when I came here, I was jealous of you, and Potter, and Weasley. All of those bloody Weasley's." He tells me. "You think I actually wanted this?" He rips up his shirt sleeve, showing me the Dark Mark on his arm. "It hurt like hell Granger."
"And this didn't?" she yells at him.
"I didn't have a choice, I wanted to help you, but I couldn't. I mentioned stopping it, but he did it again. You think I wanted these?" Draco fumbles with his sweater, pulling it over his throws it to the ground and fumbles with his tie, his fingers trembling immensely. "I asked them to stop, but why would they listen to me? No. Of course not, I'm just their servant. I do what they say."
"Draco?" Hermione asks quietly. He pulls his shirt over his head, off his back. The bottom of the back resting under his chin.
"These, Hermione, these." He turns around, and she gasps, not even registering the fact he has called her by her real name.
"Oh my g- Draco," she says quietly, scared even. She steps toward him. His back has scars on it. Across his back some criss-cross, some don't. Hesitantly she reaches out to brush his back softly with her fingertips. "Draco, I'm so so-" He turns around, my fingers brushing his chest where they had been on his back.
"I don't need your pity you filthy little-"He starts yelling at her, but he stops himself, looking down at the scars on her arm. 'Mudblood'. That's what he was going to say.
"You father did that? For how long?" He's so closed off. She steps back a bit.
"He did. For-for years." Tears begin forming in his eyes, but he drags his hands over them, taking them away. "He told me every time that I was a disgrace, I didn't deserve the name. That I may as well be a-a," he pauses, but continues, "he said I was as bad as a Mudblood. He raised me as a prejudiced fool. And everything I every said was his fault. No, it was my fault I said it, but it came from him. How pure-bloods were the only wizards who matter. That Muggle-borns like you were pathetic and useless." He shakily pulls his shirt back over his head. "I regret it all. Everything I did to the three of you. Calling you..that name." During all of this, his voice gets lower, and quieter. "I'm sorry Gr-Hermione. I am so sorry." He says roughly.
"I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you Draco." Hermione turns around,her back now facing Draco.
"Why?" She spins back around.
"You ask me why? You of all people should know! I had to watch everyone I care about suffer. Some even die, because of Voldemort. You could have stopped some of it. But you didn't. You're a coward." His eyes turn from soft gray to steel.
"Don't call me a coward. You haven't had to go through what I have. " He tells her.
"I watched Harry come back after Snape killed Dumbledore. I watched Fred after his brother came back with his ear cursed off. I watched Ron be almost possesed by Voldemort. I was tortured by your aunt. I watched your old house-elf, Dobby die, because of us. Then we had to come back and put everyone at school in harms way even more so we could kill him. We condemned so many young souls who had their whole lives ahead of them. I stood there as Fred Weasley died. Fred Weasley. The invincible joker, the one no one ever thought could die. Who would never leave his twin." Hermione chokes on the tears that are coming fast now, the sobs trapped in her throat.
"I went to his funeral. George saw me. He saw me apologizing to the headstone. I never wanted it to end up this way. I never wanted anyone to die." Draco looks down, as if hes ashamed. "I didn't want to die. That's my reason. I am afraid of death. I didn't want to face it. Fred, I heard, died laughing, what he loved to do. He died happy. I know that. But he was brilliant. Absolutely."
"George hasn't left his house since it happened. Ron runs the shop when hes not working. Lee Jordan also does, they try and fail to get the old George back. I think he died with Fred. He hasn't been the same. No one is." Tears wont stop for Hermione,and Draco takes a step closer.
"I know why you hate me. I see that. I want to change. I really do. Dad's in Azkaban, Mums in St. Mungo's. I'm all alone in bloody Malfoy Manor. But at the same time I actually am free. Free to do what I choose. I want to change." He says quietly. Pulling the ends of his sleeves over his hands, he reaches to wipe the tears from her face, but she pulls away. She walks back to McGonagalls desk, leaning up against it. "What will make you forgive me?" Draco asks.
"Malfoy. You have... years, and years to make up for. I can't just forgive you in a day. No one can." Hermione turns her gaze to meet the gray eyes which softened back to how they were before he got angry. Soft gray. But serious. He takes a few steps toward her.
"I wont ever use m- that word again. I wont bully the first years, any one. And," He takes another couple steps toward her. "have I ever told you that you are the most brilliant witch of our age?" hes alot closer to her now. "I haven't, have I. Well its true." Hermione looks down at the floor. A small blush creeps up onto her face.
"No need to blush." Draco says cheekily. "I am truly sorry for the years and years of taunting, teasing, bullying." His voice changes, getting lower and rougher, making her blush more. "And I forgot to mention one important thing." he pauses, waiting for her to meet his gaze again. She raises her eyes slowly. "Your beautiful. You truly are." he reaches to brush her cheek with his hand. Unsure if he's lying, she tries to back up more, but finds herself bending over the desk.
"You think I'm lying." He whispers, dropping his hand.
"I wonder why! All you have ever done is bully me, Draco." He leans nearer, and she finds herself bent farther back over the desk, her feet rising from the floor.
"Hermione. I swear I'm telling the truth." She shifts around, trying to get her feet back on ground.
"I cant tr-"
"Of course. You cant trust me." Her hands reach up to the loose ends of his Slytherin tie. In one last desperate move to stand up she pulls on them, but instead of helping, it pulls Draco closer.
"How can I be sure?" she breaths, suddenly a whole lot closer than she was before. He's leaning over her, his body slightly pressed up against hers, Hermione's hands not leaving the green and silver tie. "You know, green was always one of my favorite colors." She tells him, trying to distract herself from the closeness. She's still worried, and shifts her gaze away from his, looking at the tie, his partially unbuttoned shirt.
"Do I look like I'm lying?" he whispers onto her lips, and instantly she has to look up at him. Brown meets gray.
"N-no." he looks into her eyes.
"Good."his lips barely parted from hers. "Do I scare you?" He asks as he notices that she's trembling slightly.
"Of course not Malfoy." she says, her voice shaking.
"Malfoy again? I quite liked how you say Draco." his arrogant self is showing again.
"Ma- Draco then, why are we still like this?" she asks, her eyes darting around his face.
"Are you sure you want to know?"
"Draco, let me up." she moves her hands down from his neck to his chest and tries to push him up. He lets her.
"Whats wrong Gr-Hermione?"
"I'm not sure about you." She says, standing up. Hermione tries to push past him, but chairs and he block her way. "Draco. Move." She tires to push him out of the way again, but his built body from hours upon hours of Quiddich block her way.
"What is it?"
"Draco, just let me leave!" she raises her hand to slap him again. He flinches slightly remembering the time in third year.
"No."
"You asked for it." She flings her hand at his face, but stops herself just before skin hits remembers what his father has done. She rests her hand on his cheek instead. "Draco, I'm sorry I slapped you in third year." She lets her hand slide down his neck and rest on his shoulder. "If I'd known-"
" I don't need pity."
"I'm not giving it to you."
"You just feel sorry for me!" He yells at her.
"No! Its not that!" She yells back, and this time when she tries to get past him, he lets her. She rushes to the door,
"I'll see you later." and leaves, slamming the door behind her.
"Hermione? Hermione! Come back! Please!" Draco rushes across the room, quickly opening the door, following her out,but shes already turned the corner. And disappeared. "Filthy little 's not that. No one deserves that name. Except you. Stupid pure-blood, Malfoy. You're the mudblood." He tells himself, leaning against the door. "You are."