A/N: Wow, can I just say I have the best readers? Thanks for the kind reviews that are so engaging! Benkins and I can't wait to hear more from you and we hope you enjoy this chapter!
~o0o~
Hermione didn't hear Professor Malfoy calling after her when she ran out of his classroom. She couldn't hear past the magnified sound of blood pumping in her ears or her black flats slapping against the floor. She almost sought refuge in an empty classroom, but made it to her dormitory seconds before the tears she was desperately trying to hold back starting running down her cheeks.
She sobbed and locked the door behind her, making sure there was a silencing charm against the wall that connected her room with Draco's before allowing herself to completely break down. Crawling onto her bed, freshly made by the house elves, she swore and cried and screamed into her pillow. She hated Lucius Malfoy. She was beyond embarrassed at what she had done – in front of her friends – as a representative of the school. She knew she faced weeks of detention and possibly being stripped of her badge. She had risked it all in one moment over a pompous arse of a man that she shouldn't have let get to her.
Hermione, what have you done? She asked herself this question dozens of times as she soaked her pillow with tears until she felt there were none left. Her mind briefly flicked to Harry, and then to Ron. On top of her already rapidly cycling emotions, she felt guilty when she realized she hadn't written him or even attempted to talk to him since the start of term. Admittedly, it had only been a few days, but she still felt like a neglectful girlfriend. With a sigh, she lifted herself up from the bed and rummaged through her nightstand for some blank parchment and a quill.
Dear Ron,
Hermione grimaced, feeling almost hollow inside at how the words looked to her, that they held so little meaning.
Dear Ron,
I hope things at the Ministry are well.
She chewed on the end of her quill, making the tip of the feather wet, frustrated at her sudden lack of things to say. If she told him how she felt about Malfoy, or even that something had occurred that had made her upset, she knew he would find a way to the castle with Harry in no time at all.
The grounds are almost back to normal, thanks mostly to Hagrid, and it almost feels like home again, the way it used to. Classes are fine. What are you and Harry getting up to? I miss you.
She stared at the last three words. She did mean them. In so many ways, she wanted to have him hold her and tell her that it would be alright, or even storm into Malfoy's office and tell him off, so quintessentially 'Weasley'. But that was all. In fact, she had slept so much better now that she didn't have to couple with him every night, even if she felt horrible letting her brain admit it to her heart.
I love you,
Hermione
~o0o~
Lucius undid the first few buttons of his shirt and sat down in the small, slightly lumpy chair by the fireplace in his quarters. It was nothing like the chair in his study, but it served its purpose. It was late afternoon and he had finished his final class, third year potions, and no one else had gone running out of his classroom after attempting to hex him. All in all, he thought to himself as he gently turned his highball glass in his left hand before taking a sip from it, it had been a better day than expected.
Except, of course, for the Hermione incident. After she had left the room, the rest of the lesson had gone to shite faster than the Ministry had seized his assets after war's end. He had dismissed them early, but was still troubled over her reaction. He had expected something along those lines from the Weasley girl, or even Longbottom, as he had direct connections to them and their parents, but not her. He vowed to have a discussion with Minerva after dinner and devise a suitable course of action; the following day consisted of Advanced Potions with the same lot of sixth and seventh years, and he had no intentions for a repeat performance on her end.
With a grumble, he soon realized his firewhiskey was gone, but he couldn't be arsed to get up for more, and knew he probably shouldn't. The drinking habit he had developed during the last leg of the second war and beyond was something he wasn't proud of. So, instead of summoning more alcohol with a quick flick of his wand, he opted for the stationary on the humble desk by his equally humble bed.
Although he hadn't received one letter from his wife after he moved into Hogwarts nearly a week ago, he could not quell his anxiety from their lack of communication.
Dearest Narcissa,
Draco has probably neglected to write you, but he is well and looks as happy as I have seen him in a long while. He is becoming particularly attached to Miss Greengrass, which I am sure you probably already know, but no doubt are happy about. It could be a smart match in the future, but it is too early to tell.
Lucius shook his head at what he had written so far. Had their joined lives reduced to this? To only Draco?
I am considering staying at the Manor this weekend. I still have some belongings I need to retrieve for my rooms here.
The awkwardness of his writing made his stomach churn and pulled him back through memories of their early courtship, when he had no idea how to woo a woman, being only fourteen when she was promised to him.
I can only imagine you reading this, looking as beautiful as ever.
Yours,
L
~o0o~
"Hermione, what the fuck was that?"
"Just because your Mum isn't around, doesn't mean you can throw that word around every few seconds," Hermione snapped at Ginny, on edge the moment the redhead found her en-route to dinner.
"Seriously, did you just lose it or something? I mean…you are Head Girl…." Ginny tried her best to keep stride with her friend, who was determined to shrug her off.
"Everyone has their breaking point," Hermione replied through gritted teeth. The two girls entered the Great Hall and took their seats at the Gryffindor table.
"But I don't understand, he didn't do a damn thing. In fact, he kinda seemed alright. Nice about everything….well, at least until you tried to decapitate him," Ginny said bluntly, helping herself to her weight in mashed potatoes.
"How are you so fine with him teaching here? How is everyone so fine?" Hermione glanced accusingly towards Headmistress McGonagall at the staff table, also noticing that Professor Malfoy had not arrived to dinner yet, and thankful for it.
"Not having him here isn't going to change the fact that he was a Death Eater, or that Draco is a prat, or that all of us have scars from the war. Personally, I think he should repent to the very people he tried to harm. He can't think he's above us anymore – Professor or not, he's here to teach us and he doesn't hold much power anymore." Ginny's eyes were fiercely determined when she said this, showing that she would firmly hold onto this stance and nothing Hermione said could change her mind. "And honestly, 'Mione, I'm sick of hearing about how much you hate him. I don't like him either, but hearing you talk about it only day only reminds me of that fact. And I just want to move on."
Hermione did not reply and instead, started eating her meal in silence as familiar faces surrounded her and started doing the same. Deep down, she knew Ginny was right, which she hated, because usually she was always right. Eating as quickly as possible and hoping to get back to her dormitory before the man in question appeared in the hall, she wondered why her feelings of hatred toward him were so strong when he had never been anything more than an annoyance to her before.
~o0o~
"That is extremely unusual…and of course, disappointing," Minerva clicked her tongue and tapped her fingers against her wood desk, considering what to do. During dinner, Lucius had asked to speak with her privately and after their meal, she led him to her office where he preceded to tell her what had transpired in his Defense class that afternoon.
"I thought it best to counsel with you before delivering punishment more than the taking away of House Points. She was well aware of what she was doing and I have no desire to spend the rest of term as an invalid," Lucius remarked. He wasn't particularly frightened of Hermione, but he was afraid she wasn't aware of the strength of her magic when she was that upset. "However, I do believe something greater is troubling her."
"She's certainly not the one I expected to come out of this so damaged." Minerva looked severely concerned about the young woman of whom she thought so highly. "Do you perhaps believe she is reacting so negatively to you because of Bellatrix?"
Lucius winced at the unpleasant memory. "I was there, so it is not out of the realm of possibility."
"She's a strong woman and I don't doubt she'll put this behind her soon, but I will be speaking with her. Goodnight, Lucius," Minerva dismissed him from her office, steepling her fingers as she pondered how to approach Hermione, briefly considering saving the matter for the next day. She did not want to punish her, but decided it was best to get it over with and sent for her.
~o0o~
Humbled and quiet, Hermione stepped into the Headmistresses' office fifteen minutes later. "You really have to understand that he was goading me…" she started in instantly. Minerva raised her hand to quiet her.
"I spoke with Professor Malfoy a few moments ago and am, quite frankly, mortified at your behavior as Head Girl on the very first day of classes." Minerva's voice was harsh and left no room for negotiation.
"Headmistress, I just couldn't help it…"
"Miss Granger, no one else found themselves inexplicably influenced to curse their Professor…" Minerva raised an eyebrow and formally addressed her, "If you insist that he was 'goading you' as you say, what exactly were his words?"
"Well, first he told me that I could do better when we were practicing nonverbal spells, and then he told me to concentrate…" Hermione blushed, realizing how silly it sounded when she said it aloud.
"Completely normal things for a Professor to say to a student. Anything else?"
"Well, no, but…" Hermione realized how Harry must have felt all of those years, trying to explain to Dumbledore what Draco had done, or what he had said, and no one took him seriously.
"Hermione," she beckoned the brunette over to the chair in front of her desk, her countenance softening a bit, "I know it cannot be easy for you after what you have gone through, but every single member of your class was also a soldier too young, and I do need you to set the example of normalcy and compassion for them. You fought for House Elf rights and on behalf of Remus Lupin, and you have always impressed me with your ability to see the best in people. I am not sure where that trait has disappeared to, but I urge you to find it again."
Hermione nodded, her eyes a little wet as she mentally berated herself for her foolishness. "I also urge you to apologize to Professor Malfoy. You will serve detention with him next Monday night, as he is travelling over the weekend. I would have made it a week's worth, but I'm sure a few hours with him will be torture enough for you if you hate him as much as you demonstrated in class today," Minerva finished, looking sadly at the woman before her, so different from the bright-eyed girl she used to be. She seemed a little broken now – angry and vulnerable, as well.
"I am sorry, really," Hermione said before leaving the office and walking back to her dormitory, having to be content with keeping her anger toward Malfoy to herself.
~o0o~
"This is completely asinine," Hermione grumbled to Neville, who was sitting next to her on the alternates' bench on the Quidditch pitch. She was cold, nervous, and angry as shivered in the uncomfortable Quidditch robes Ginny had forced onto her that drizzly morning. It was the first practice heat of the season and it marked the end of the first week of classes. Ginny, as Gryffindor captain, had barely been able to cobble together a decent set of players from within the House, even resorting to using two first years. However, she couldn't stretch the talent through to the necessary two alternates, and Neville and Hermione were drafted.
"Completely. I won't do much good if anyone takes a fall and I have to go in. Last time I was on a broom I blacked out at thirty feet in the air." Neville's voice was shaking and Hermione didn't think it was from the wind chill.
The rest of the week had gone by without much event. After her talk with the Headmistress, Hermione had apologized to Professor Malfoy in Advanced Potions the next day. To her surprise, he accepted it readily and without a cocky smirk. She was also surprised that he seemed quite adept at potions, and certainly wasn't as condescending as Snape had once been when looking over their results at the end of the period.
Beyond that, Ginny was still a bit cold toward her and the letter she had received from Ron mid-week did nothing to boost her spirits. He sounded as if he was immensely enjoying himself at the Ministry, said that he missed her more than he could say, and raved about some of his first assignments. She couldn't help but feel a bit jealous that the return to academia she had so looked forward to was falling miserably flat.
"Oh geez, this is rough," Neville groaned when Slytherin made another goal. Their team, although still makeshift and lacking its previous talent, was much stronger, especially with Draco as captain. Hermione looked up at the action, wishing that Ginny would just catch the Snitch and relieve them of this torture. Her eyes then wandered to the stands opposite them. The Slytherins were screaming and chanting, even though the results of this match counted for nothing in terms of House Cup points. She saw the auburn-haired Astoria Greengrass, waving a hand-made sign with a pathetically terrible stick-figure drawing of Draco that she had magicked to fly around the poster; it made Hermione give a little snort of laughter.
Her amusement died seconds later when she caught the slate blue eyes of Professor Malfoy, just a few seats away from Astoria. She found it hard to tell if he had been staring at her before her eyes met his, but regardless, he didn't alter his gaze. The left side of his mouth twitched up into a small smile and Hermione immediately looked away, pretending to concentrate hard on the gloomy sky above the field. She suddenly felt very odd, and a little concerned at the way her stomach was twisting, almost making her want to seek him out in the crowd again.
A/N: Thanks for reading!
