I'm so excited to upload to chapter six and seven. They are my favorite so far. I hope you like it!
After patrols, Hermione escaped to her room, but even the door could not blot out her sobs. He'd come very close to admitting his closeted feelings while she was venting to him in their common room. He wasn't naive enough to believe keeping her at an arm's length would be easy for him. She drew him in every time he was close enough.
Hell, he'd spent too many moments over the summer wondering if she were okay. After seeing her leave his trial, he knew that confidence was just a carefully place facade to keep herself safe. His mother urged him to owl the girl, at the very least to properly thank her. Had Draco sat down to write Granger a letter, it would not have been a thank you. It would have been an unsophisticated confession is his maddened handwriting.
And him being the idiot he was, he would have hand delivered it. Her words were still in his head about Weasley. He wanted to march to the Gryffindor common room and beat him within an inch of his life. It was his fault the poor girl's heart wrenching sobs were pouring through entire dorm. What a fucking prat.
Draco drained the last of the firewhiskey, thinking he would need it to make it through the night.
He was sure these bloody third years would be the cause of the Head Boy title being yanked out from under him. The words "death eater" and "Malfoy" were repetitive in their conversation. He hardly expected it to be easy to gain respect, but if it had gone his way he would have attended Hogwarts as a normal student.
Maybe Weasley would have been Head Boy since he was so admired. Draco's nails bit into his palms as he imagined Granger being confined in a small space with him. Speaking of, she'd mentioned a quick goodbye as she rushed for the portrait at seven am, on the dot. That wasn't all though. When she reached the exit, she turned back and mumbled a thank you. Then she was gone before he could respond.
Don't bloody thank me.
"How do you imagine Hermione lives with him?" A third year girl, with dyed pink hair spoke from the table. Her eyes flashed to Malfoy, the message clear: you don't belong here.
"I'd imagine they get along just fine." A smooth voice cut through the library. The girl stared at her shoes, her white cheeks reddening. "Do you normally gossip so loud, Miss Archer? It's incredibly rude." Hermione stood to the right of him, hands on her hips. "If I hear the words Draco Malfoy and Death Eater leave your mouth another time, I will take twenty points from Gryffindor."
"That's your house!" Archer defended, raising her voice too loudly.
"I'm afraid I've lost the ability to care, Miss Archer." She bit back.
"Why are you defending him?" The small group of third years had turned away from their friend, not at all interested in the wrath of the girl before them.
In the years prior, he never thought of her as intimidating. Not even scary. "Do I need a reason?" Hermione asked. "Do I need a reason to treat him like a person instead of an exhibit for you to laugh at?"
"You're acting as if you're friends with him after everything,"
"You will stop talking right now. You are thirteen years old and you have no idea what you are discussing. Who is in my life is of no concern of yours. This is a different matter. It's disrespectful."
"He was a Death Eater." Archer said flatly. "I lost people in this war too."
"Granger, she isn't wrong. Leave it be." He told her, almost reaching out to touch her to rip her out of this pointless argument.
"Yes, he was." She finally said after closing and opening her eyes again. "He was an awful person, but that didn't make him evil. I lost people too. My friends that I loved more than anything, and I almost lost my life and he didn't let that happen. He chose to save my life rather than fight with Voldemort. Just because he made the right choice too late doesn't make him an irredeemable asshole."
Archer blinked. "Wait, that rubbish is true?"
"Rubbish?" He exclaimed. "I nearly died from both sides, you little brat!" Hermione elbowed him in the ribs as he stood. "Yes, it's very true."
"I thought it was fake. I thought she lied to help you." The girl's voice had dropped several notches, losing fire. "We thought you two hated each other."
"Absolutely loathe him." Hermione stated. "He's a foul, evil, loathsome little cockroach." A grin had stretched lazily over her lips.
"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Granger." He placed a hand over his heart. "You do care." She scoffed. The third years stared at them in bewilderment.
"Shouldn't you all be on your way? Quidditch tryouts start in ten minutes." Hermione said, tapping on her wrist as if she wore a watch. They shuffled their papers together and rushed out behind one another. "That happen often?" He grumbles. "You weren't in potions."
"Brilliant observation, Granger. I see they don't call you the brightest witch of our age for nothing." He smirked. That fucking smirk always made her angry.
"Theo and Blaise are looking for you." She replied. "They want you to meet them at the quidditch pitch."
"They're running the tryouts, not me. What do they want me for?"
"I don't know, Malfoy. I'm not your secretary." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why would you let them keep on like that? Why not set them straight?"
"Because there is nothing to set straight. Just because I managed to do one thing right doesn't mean I earned any brownie points." He snapped, slamming his book shut and shoving it in his bag.
"I'm sorry I said anything in the first place." She replied, taking her leave.
"Granger," She stopped just a few feet from him, and she was staring at her shoes. "It's kind of you to defend me, but it doesn't bother me as much now."
"You're such a liar." She replies. "I see right through you , you know. You're just as fucked up as I am, and I just thought we could get along. I apologize for my hopeful feelings. How utterly Gryffindor of me, I know. You don't have to say it."
It was a slap to the face. Draco did one of the many, many things he said he'd never do. He tugged on her shoulder as she walked away. "Why are you crying?"
"I'm not." Her hair was falling into her face, hiding her, but he could hear her sniffles. "I should probably go. Pansy and Ginny are waiting for me at the quidditch pitch."
"I can walk with you." He offered even though he'd regret it later. Every second he spent with her left him wanting more even if it was nothing but silence. She nodded, readjusting the bag over her shoulder. As they walked down the hallway leading to the exit, he kept fucking talking. "I said I did one thing right." She looked up at him, and he was reminded of just how short she was in comparison. He towered over her. "But if it was only ever going to be one thing, I'm glad it was protecting you."
He instantly regretted being so forthcoming, but the way her face lit up almost made it worth it. "Thanks, Malfoy."
"It doesn't change a sodding thing between us." His voice was rough. "You're still a bossy know it all."
"I wouldn't dream of it. After all, you're still second best to me in everything."
"I handle firewhiskey better than you, so I'd say that counts for something." He chuckled at that angry look on her face.
"Have you ever had muggle alcohol?" He shook his head. "It's stronger and I'm willing to bet I can drink more than you."
"Oh?" He snorted. "Considering you can't handle firewhiskey, I don't think you can."
"Afraid, Malfoy?"
"Never."
The brisk air of October met them as they stepped through the doors of the castle. Cheering rose from the stands down at the tryouts. All the way from their path, he could hear Blaise shouting. "That's not how you fly!" Hermione laughed beside him, recognizing that voice.
"How did you become such close friends with my lot?"
"A party in fifth year. I believe Theo's words were and I quote, "She's not that bad. And has she always been that hot?". Something like that. We were all so drunk, I'm not sure any of us remembered we were supposed to be at eachother's throats." She shrugged. "I was having so much fun; I wouldn't have cared anyways."
"Theo?" He echoed. "Theo was saying that about you?" She rolled her eyes.
"Don't act like you don't know. I'm sure you're dying to insult me about it. Go ahead. I don't want you to spontaneously combust."
"As easy as it would be to insult you, since you're asking. What exactly am I insulting you for?" A dark blush pooled in her cheeks. "Granger?"
"You really don't know?" She asked, chewing on her bottom lip. "That little bastard!" Slipped between her teeth. "It's nothing. Why weren't you here in the first place? You're Slytherin's captain."
"I see you changing the subject." Her lips were pressed into a hard line. "I had other things I needed to do. Theo and Blaise can handle it. Or I thought they could."
"Oh my god." She whispered, staring behind the locker rooms, reaching into her wand pocket. Under the sun's glare, her skin lost it's color. She looked washed out, the only dash of color was her eyes. They were wide in horror. Her bottom lip trembled.
"Hermione?" She stared up at him, those brown eyes huge and watering. "What's wrong?"
"You didn't see?" She stammered, turning back the other direction. Her knuckles were white as she clutched her wand. "I have to go."
"Wait," He caught her gently by the elbow. "What did you see?" Last night, she'd dumped a pitcher of pumpkin juice on Weasley for grabbing her and he could only imagine how she was going to react. Hermione didn't lash out. It was the opposite. Her body was shaking and she rested her hand on his arm, grabbing onto him as if he were the only thing keeping her anchored. "Granger, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."
"You can't help me at all, Malfoy." She murmured. "No one can. I have to go to Madame Pomfrey. Tell Pansy I'm sick. Tell her anything, I don't care."
"Granger, you look like you've seen a ghost."
"Please let go of me, Draco." She whispered and he watched as she slipped from his grasp. Hermione murmured something unintelligible under her breath and rushed up the path they'd come.
"We're talking about this later, Granger!" He yelled, watching her run to the doors, throwing it open with such force it slammed against the outside of the castle.
Theo and Blaise could run the practice. They would be furious with their captain, but he needed to know what had scared Hermione Granger into running away from danger. Instead of head long into as she was so good at. He could think of a few things and they all made his stomach twist.
With all of the hopefuls within the locker rooms, he wouldn't be able to pinpoint the problem. And the spells he would use to uncover what could be hidden couldn't be seen by any student, lest he wanted to be sent packing.
Fuck.
Blaise and Theo were useless. The two of them could not make one quidditch captain, and Draco Malfoy wondered why he ever wondered otherwise. His mind was not on the tryouts, not even fucking close. That would be too simple. His thoughts kept going to the witch who had just sprinted to Pomfrey, and where she was. What was she doing.
If he knew her, which he did, he knew she was in their dorm room, downing alcohol like it were a sport. Drinking let her forget, let her relax, let her be out of her mind and she believed it was the only acceptable time. Who knew if she had realized these truths as well, but it didn't take long for him to have her pegged.
She was reckless, and unhinged. She might have been to some parties in the last few years, but that didn't make her stumble in and out of pubs all summer. Maybe he should have owled her, because she wasn't able to function with all the secrets locked up in her pretty head. Now that was hopeful thinking. What could he have done?
He could draw a suspicion and he feared the thought. Hermione Granger might be more of a danger to herself than anyone else.
