I found myself the next morning being scrutinized by Ginny Weasley. Every time I made an attempt to talk she'd shush me and continue with her evaluation. Lavender stood next to her like a nurse does a surgeon, ready at any moment to pass the proper tools. Though I played like I was angry, I wanted them to help me. Appearance didn't mean everything, we all knew that, but at the same time there was no harm in wanting to look…well nice. Going back to Hogwarts for our seventh year would be different. The war was over. My year was given the opportunity to retake seventh year. I no longer needed to distract myself with frivolity. We had defeated evil, and I was ready to take on a happier life. I knew what happened between Malfoy and I in the market was wrong. I knew Harry never quite forgave him for fighting on the wrong side. I never did understand the complexity of Malfoy. But for some reason, just in that moment, outside of Hogwarts, outside of the wizarding world, we were just people. Instead of sworn enemies, we bantered, tried to one up each other in less violent ways.
"Alright then, let's have a look," Gin smiled as she led me to the mirror. It was the subtle differences that changed everything. My eyebrows were groomed; my face was made up lightly in neutral colors, and my hair was tame, yet still held its natural curl. I was not transformed into something, just enhanced. I tried not to tear up like a pansy.
"Thanks," I murmured and it was enough.
Why was it that every year I arrived late to platform 9 and ¾? Oh, right, I was always with Ginny Weasley. It didn't matter that we weren't at the burrow with the boys and their lazy arses, I still found myself sprinting towards the barrier in King's Cross. I heaved a major sigh of relief when Ginny, Lavender, and I came through on the other side. Due to the new policies concerning seventh years, I didn't have to wear the uniform until classes officially started, and even then, on Fridays we could dress down. I could reinforce who I was through my clothes. I wore dark 7 For All Mankind jeans, chocolate brown riding boots, and a light knit cream sweater synched with a thin brown belt. After months of wearing the same dirty clothes while hunting for horcruxes with Harry, clothes had become a slight obsession for me.
Settling our trunks, Lav, Gin and I went in search of the boys.
"Hang on, I'm going to grab something from the trolley before I sit down. I'll find you later," I called as they continued down the aisle. When I turned around, I was nose to nose with Draco Malfoy. He stared at me with a look I honestly couldn't decipher.
"What?" I asked indignantly.
"You look good Granger. Now if you could manage to move yourself out of my way," He looked down at me, his platinum hair half shielding his face. Only Malfoy could compliment me and patronize me simultaneously.
I had trouble focusing as I walked with my friends to the renovated Great Hall. In the last two days, I hadn't been able to ditch the feeling I got thinking about Malfoy's lips on mine, the feel of my fingers in his hair, the way my body came alive pressed to his. It felt weird to be sitting here without certain people, especially with Dumbledore not present. Professor McGonagall, though a fierce witch, would never truly capture the charisma that Dumbledore possessed whenever he spoke. I appreciated her address to the Great Hall and her moment of pause in remembrance of those we'd lost. Feeling a multitude of ways, after dinner I headed to the library, a place that had often given me great solace. I was surprised to see that someone had beaten me there, and even more so to find that it was Malfoy. I cannot describe the urge that came over me as I crept up behind him and pressed my lips close to his ear.
"Clean up on aisle six," I whispered. He nearly jumped out of his chair.
"Buggering hell Granger," he swore, getting up to face me. His eyes flickered to the book open on the table.
"What's this?" I asked reaching for it.
"NO," he practically yelled, but it was too late.
"1001 Ways to Woo a Witch," I said almost incredulously. I couldn't help the laugh that began to escape me at the sight of his angry blush and the book in my hand.
"It's not polite to take things that aren't yours Granger," he said icily before snatching the book from me. Before I could muster even a half-assed apology, he'd stalked out of the library.
On the way back to the common room, I ran into Ginny and told her about the episode with Malfoy. I was slightly confused at his anger. I could understand the embarrassment—maybe that's just how he expressed it?
"Hermione, darling, you really don't know why he might be a tad angry you found him with that book?"
"Gin, I wouldn't ask if I already knew the answer."
"You're a bright witch Hermione, but if you don't figure it out by dinner tomorrow I'll tell you," she smiled wickedly.
"Come on Ginny, that's not fair!"
By the next morning, I had exhausted all possible, logical reasons. I pleaded with her to tell me at breakfast, but all she said in a posh voice was, "Patience dahling, patience" while pretending to blow smoke into the air. By lunch, I a feeling of uneasy comprehension settled in my stomach. She couldn't possibly mean that Malfoy wanted to "woo" me, and that by finding the book I'd uncovered not only something embarrassing, but something he may be warring with himself about.
Weeks passed and Malfoy and I exchanged nothing but loaded looks. I felt pulled in multiple directions. I wanted to kiss him, hard. I wanted to hit him, hard. I wanted to yell at him for the presumption that having feelings for me was somehow wrong, and yet I'd be a hypocrite. Because it's hard to break habits, and we had a long-standing one of hating each other. I was leaving potions when I saw him walking around the corner. I quickened my pace to catch up with him. Once I was close to him, I checked to see that we were alone.
"Malfoy," I called. He turned to face me. I had to act quickly. I grabbed the front of his robes and pulled him to me. I crushed my lips to his, my kiss unyielding. I knew he would return it, and my heart sped up at the sound he made as I pushed my tongue passed his lips. His hands on my waist seemed to remind me exactly what the fuck I was doing. I stepped back, breathing hard, staring at his swollen lips. For the first time in my life, I felt a smirk take over my face.
"Don't think for one second that you can just forget about me," I whispered before leaving him frozen in the corridor.