Hi c: Okay I know my Hermione is a little bit OOC but I saw a quote on Tumblr the other day and it was something like 'Hermione's heart was even bigger than her brain' and that's what kind of inspired my Hermione I guess? So don't expect super bitchy Hermione just yet.
Also thank you to my wonderful beta Danielle
Apparently, when holed up in a tiny, dank bedroom with barely any social interaction, a person comes across a lot of startling revelations.
The first being that Draco absolutely hated his father.
Sure, before entering Number 12, Grimmauld Place, Draco didn't exactly like his father. Loved him, yes, but only because he had to.I mean, how exactly could he like the man who mercilessly abused the family he had once sworn upon his own life to protect? How could he like the man who offered his only son to a deranged, nose-less half blood on a fucking silver platter? The fact of the matter was, Lucius hadn't even needed to pause to think about that particular action. How could he like the man who made him watch as he tortured muggle after muggle in their dungeons for hours? This particular occurrence had began when Draco was merely 13, entirely to 'teach him the way muggles were supposed to be treated'. He couldn't bring himself to have any genuine positive feelings towards the man.
But as Draco sat alone in this small room, his dislike had morphed into hate. Unbelievably strong, bitter hatred.
Another revelation of his was that Draco desperately missed his mother. The love for a mother from a son does not usually sound like a very surprising act, but for Draco, it truly was. He had never really appreciated his mother and he wasn't the type of son to give her a hug or tell her he loved her. Yet, thinking back now, he kind of wished he was. All Draco currently yearned to do was tell his mother how much he appreciated her. Whenever he thought about this, he realised that deep down he knew his father wouldn't have allowed a very close relationship between Draco and his mother anyway. Draco could almost hear Lucius saying that 'showing love was a sign of weakness' or some rubbish along those lines. In spite of this, Draco still regretted the way he acted towards his mother, especially since he had literally no clue when (or if) he would see her again.
Also, alongside his father, Draco hated fucking Potter and his idiotic sidekick- that blundering ginger oaf- far more than he thought humanly possible.
Whenever Draco actually left his bedroom, which was rare and only to go to the loo, or occasionally to take a book from the large bookshelf downstairs by the fireplace, he felt himself despise them all the more. Potter and Weasley would follow him, watching him like he was a wild animal, taunting him all the while. They revelled in telling him he was nothing, he was worthless, he was Death Eater scum and nothing more. The worst part of it all was that most of the time Draco actually agreed with them. Draco would do his best to ignore the taunts and just pick the nearest bloody book from the shelf. That way he could quickly get back upstairs. He assumed the books were Granger's, but funnily enough, if they were, she never made a comment about him taking them.
He never made any effort to fight back. Not because of fear of the two much shorter, weaker boys. Draco knew if he wanted to, he could easily win in a fight. He didn't even need his wand. Draco simply never fought back because he was sure if he so much as laid a finger on Precious Potter, that stupid wolf would kick Draco out so fast his head would spin. Besides, Granger always put a stop to Potty and Weasel's fun before Draco had a chance to fight back.
Surprisingly, Granger was actually one of the only people Draco felt at least somewhat comfortable speaking to. Mind you, they didn't exactly have mind blowing debates or whatever. It was mostly along the lines of "can you pass me that?" or "Are you coming down to dinner?" which for some odd reason she persisted to ask him every night, even though the answer was always no. Occasionally, for some reason she'd just look at him, with the oddest fucking look in her eyes and say "are you okay, Malfoy?". He would merely nod, never trusting himself to actually speak, because something about the way she was looking at him made him feel like he absolutely could not lie to her. No matter how much he hated her.
Along with that, Granger fixed meals for him 3 times a day and had a House Elf send them up.
He really didn't understand why the girl was being so kind. He certainly didn't think he deserved it. He didn't even want her help, and part of him despised her for being so kind. His Malfoy pride was always in the back of his head, repeatedly reminding him that he didn't need kindness from a Mudblood, But another -VERY tiny - part of him welcomed her kindness and he didn't know why. He just knew something about it made staying in this hell hole seem the tiniest bit better.
Along with Granger, the only other person who actually spoke to Draco was Nymphodora Tonks, his first cousin. He was never close to Tonks growing up, nor did he care much for Tonks' mother Andromeda. He wasn't allowed. He remembered being 5 years old and it was his birthday. His parents had thrown a big party at the manor and all of his friends and their families were there, then Andromeda and Tonks had walked in. He remembered Tonks handing him a small box, wrapped in blue and silver wrapping paper with a big bow on top. He remembered her smiling down at him fondly as he ripped the box open and pulled out a stuffed, green dragon. Gods, did he love that little thing. It was the only toy he'd gotten that year. Everyone else gave him expensive robes or miniature brooms. Sure, he had always loved to fly, but he didn't need 25 different brooms for it. This was the reasoning that made him so excited to actually get a toy. In a rare show of affection, he had actually hugged Tonks' leg and mumbled a thank you into the fabric of her skirt. Sadly, he had then heard yelling across the room, and when he looked up and saw his mother, father and his aunt Andromeda in what looked to be an argument. A very heated one at that. He couldn't make out exactly what was being said, but he had heard his father yell something about 'filthy blood traitors not being welcome in his home' and then Andromeda and Tonks leaving in a hast. Draco was not sure why this memory was so permanently etched into his brain, yet he didn't question it.
He never actually saw them again after that.
But throughout the past week, like Granger, Tonks had been exceptionally kind. A few times, she'd actually came into his room and attempted to make some type of conversation with him. However, Draco only ever responded with a cold 'yes or 'no and the occasional curt nod.
No matter how kind she was, he did not want to befriend his cousin. Nor did he wish to befriend Granger, or anybody else in this hell-hole for that matter.
He was not in this stupid fucking house to make friends.
He was perfectly fine by himself. Just fine. Honestly. Fine.
Draco sighed to himself, and was surprised when he realised how small his voice had become. Being cooped up in this room by himself was driving him slightly crazy. He was in desperate need of some fresh air, and from the goodbyes he'd heard being exchanged somewhere downstairs earlier, he would assume that Potter, Weasley, Mad Eye Moody and Lupin were all out on some type of mission. One that Draco had no interest in finding anything out about. Though, it was somewhat a relief to know he could at least leave his room without the two idiots bothering him.
He got up from his spot on the dirty floor and left his room without looking back. He walked down the long hall way, the floorboards creaking the whole time as he wondered just how fucking old this house was. He slowly descended down the stairs and made his way into the kitchen.
Upon entering, he found Granger sitting on the counter top, a green apple clutched in one hand and a book on advanced healing spells in the other. She had on a light pink jumper that hung slightly off of her delicate shoulders, along with jeans and rather tiny bare feet which dangled, swaying back and forth slightly.
"Morning Malfoy." Granger said politely, not looking up from her book.
Draco merely nodded in her direction before grabbing a green apple from the fruit bowl on the table and sitting down on a chair.
Hermione merely stared at the weakened boy in front of her. His shoulders were slumped in roaring defeat, while his white blonde hair looked the messiest and unruliest she'd ever seen it. It was painfully obvious he hadn't slept properly in weeks if the dark purple circles under his eyes were any indication to describe his non-existent sleeping pattern. His lips were pink, pouty and she noted to herself privately, very feminine. His mouth seemed to be pressed tightly together in a permanently there, grim line; however upon closer inspection, one could make out the slight down-turn of the corners of his mouth, obviously indicating a frown that represented his inward struggles.
But his eyes, his eyes were what troubled her the most. They were dead looking and icy, void of any emotion besides that tiny hint of fear that she hadn't seen leave his stormy grey eyes since the moment he'd stepped through the door of number 12, Grimmauld Place.
He looked so completely and utterly broken that she couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards him. That being said, however, he also seemed far more dangerous than he was before, which admittedly scared her a bit in spite of her so-called 'Gryffindor courage'.
She couldn't for the life of her understand why, but for some reason since the moment he'd walked in, Hermione had felt a strong urge to help him, to heal him, to fix him. He almost reminded her of a lost child, with no clue what was going on around him or where he was going and her heart ached for him.
He'd been there for nearly a week now, yet he'd barely said more than five words to anyone since his shocking arrival. He never really left his room, which she couldn't really blame him for, considering every time he did, Harry and Ron would mercilessly taunt him. She saw a completely different side of them as they would go as far as to tell him that he was a worthless coward, who would never be more than a filthy Death Eater. Albeit, her best friends had their issues with Malfoy but she had never experienced them being downright bullies. However, what shocked her the most about these occurrences was that he never retaliated. Not once. His jaw would clench, his eyes would harden like steel and he'd clutch onto whatever was in his hands or in front of him until his knuckles turned , though, he never responded to their taunts and jabs. Never rose to the occasion to take a slam at 'Potty and the Weasel'.
Hermione knew she had no reason to want to help him, she knew that he probably didn't even want her help. She also knew that he hated her and that he was disgusted by her, but that didn't change her feelings.
"Care to share why you've been staring at me for the past ten minutes Granger?" Malfoy asked, Breaking her out of her thoughts.
Hernione felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment at being caught staring.
"Sorry, I.. I just, well.. Right. sorry." She didn't even know what she had intended to say. Perhaps she had been about to offer help, but mid-sentence decided to keep her mouth shut. Something about his icy gaze unnerved her and made her very anxious.
"You didn't answer my question, Granger." Draco said, not really sure why he was pushing the subject, but too busy relishing in the feeling of having an actual conversation to care. "I'm certain it wasn't my good looks that made you stare, though I wouldn't blame you. So please, Granger. Do tell, what were you looking at?"
Hermione nervously chewed her lip. "Well...you just..seem very, very sad and I was..trying to figure out why, I suppose." She said, instantly regretting her words at the look on his face.
Draco felt blood rush to his head.
She's trying to figure out why I'm sad?
What the bloody FUCK? Why does she care if I'm sad? Why wouldn't I be sad? Why the fuck are my emotions her business?
Draco stared at the girl in front of him, feeling so much anger fill his body at once that it actually scared him.
"Why I'm sad? Why the fuck I'm sad?! Why in the fuck wouldn't I be sad, Granger? Should I be skipping through a field of flowers while I have to stay in this sodding hell hole with Potty, nearly the entire Weasel bunch, my insane cousin, her werewolf boyfriend and of course, you? Should I be overjoyed about having to be in close proximity to Queen of the Mudbloods herself?" he raged through clenched teeth. "Should I be happy that my mother probably thinks I'm fucking... What, dead or something? Should I be happy that my father will probably disown me when he figures out that I'm here? Should I be happy that those sodding bastards you call best friends are fucking ridiculing me every time I so much as open my door? Tell me, Mudblood. Should I?" He seethed, panting slightly in the aftermath of his little tantrum.
Hermione stared up at him, wide eyed. She was shocked by his outburst, despite knowing what he was capable of. She focused her attention on doing everything in her power not to let it show that the word Mudblood, even after 6 years of hearing it constantly, still felt like a sharp, rusty knife through the heart every time she heard it. She took a steadying breath as she prayed what she was about to say next would come out calmly. Hermione knew if her voice wavered, her emotions would be betrayed.
"Look, I'm sorry that I upset you, Malfoy. But keep in mind that you have no right to take out your problems on me. I didn't make any of these things happen to you." she said, still trying desperately to keep her voice even, slightly torn between wanting to cry just a bit or hex him.
"Fuck off, Granger." Draco said before getting up and going to his room hastily. Upon entering his room he proceeded to take out all of his aggression on the furniture.
He figured a few holes in the wall, a broken lamp and a dresser cut in half was better than strangling Granger. She was a female, even if she was a vile, dirty-blooded one.
Once he'd broken nearly everything in his path, there was a knock at his door. He slowly made his way through the wreckage of his room, silently praying it wasn't Granger the whole time. Once he opened the door, he was inwardly shocked when he came face to face with Tonks.
"I heard some yelling downstairs and then some crashing in here. I wanted to make sure everything was alright" she explained, eyeing the destroyed looking room behind him curiously. "What happened?"
Draco eyed his bubble-gum pink haired cousin for a moment, debating whether he should lie to her or not. After finding no real reason to beat around the bush, he simply replied with "Granger pissed me off."
Tonks, assuming he wasn't going to willingly relinquish any further information, decided to push the issue.
"And how did she do that?" She inquired,raising one eyebrow with a questioning look on her face.
"She was sticking her nose into my business." He replied curtly, truly hoping she would just go away.
"She only means well, Draco. I thought that would be obvious what with the way she's acted towards you since your arrival. She's even gone as far as to defend you to Harry and Ron. She's being extremely kind to you, actually, and frankly I don't think you deserve it."
Draco glared at the tall woman in front of him. He didn't want to hear about Granger or how bloody kind she was, or any of this shit. He simply wanted to be alone so that he could fucking sulk in peace.
"Whatever, Tonks. I honestly don't care. If you expect to apologize to Granger, you've got another thing coming."
And with that, he slammed the door in Tonks' face.
Feeling another wave of rage, he kicked the already broken lamp on the floor in front of him as he watched the light bulb disintegrate into fine fragments.
Downstairs, Hermione was still in the kitchen, perched on the counter top and obviously deep in thought. So deep, in fact, that she didn't even notice when Tonks entered the kitchen.
Hermione jumped slightly when Tonks put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention.
"Tonks! You scared me!" She said a bit breathlessly.
Tonks smiled sheepishly back at her. "Sorry, Hermione."
Taking a seat beside Hermione on the counter top, the older of the two girls sighed as though disappointed by something before she spoke. "What happened with you and Draco earlier? He's even more pissed than usual."
"It was rather odd, actually." She explained. "He came into the kitchen and he just looked so... Sad, Tonks. He looked defeated. Well.. I suppose I got lost in my thoughts while staring at him so he asked me why I was staring at him. I told him I was trying to figure out why he was so sad and he just...Exploded." She said,throwing her arms up in exasperated emphasis at the last word before going into a full retelling of Draco's rant.
When Hermione finished her story, Tonks sighed quietly. "I'm sorry about him, Hermione. He's just... He doesn't really understand people like you. Kind, Caring, Selfless. Those traits are unheard of to the Malfoys, dear." She explained, hoping that if she couldn't get through to Draco then she could at least get Hermione to understand the situation a little better. "He's been through a lot. A lot you don't know about. Life at home was never good for Draco. He's seen things no one should ever see, so you shouldn't hold it against him if he's a little cruel or cold. The only advice I can give you Hermione, is don't give up on him. He needs a friend right now. I understand he can be a bitter prat at times, but you also have to remember he's here because he left the Dark Side."
Hermione looked up at Tonks, smiling softly as she nodded her head, understanding his pain in a way only somebody as caring as her could. "I suppose you're right."
Tonks' words gave Hermione a new determination. Draco Malfoy needed a friend, and Hermione was going to be it, dammit!
Ok I know this sucks but can you guys please start reviewing like seriously even if its only one I don't care just do it