December
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Hermione tried several times to get Draco Malfoy's attention.
At first, it was like a game to her. After years of having to endure his torturous taunts, she was finally able to deal it back without resorting to the same tactics he did. She was adamant to kill her childhood bully with the one thing he seemed to not only be confused by, but also hate more than anything else in the world: kindness.
At first, it was the small things that got to him.
She noticed how thin he had become; his cheekbones were sharper, his frame lankier and his cheeks were practically hollow. This meant that not only did she herself bring food and place it before him, but also with help from a few house-elves, he was brought food at all hours of the day. When he had gotten mad and thrown a dish against the wall of the boys' dormitories, Hermione told the house-elves to stop their service for fear of their safety. She could defend herself against him without breaking the rules so she continued to urge Malfoy to eat without much subtlety.
He refused to eat to spite her and his scowls only served to add a spring to her step. Hermione had never considered herself the payback kind, but her chosen victim was not only making it enjoyable for her, but he kept her busy when she found herself lonely.
Ginny was still not talking to her due to the breakup with her brother, and poor Harry was forced to divide his time between Hermione and his girlfriend. Add to that the fact that Ron was blissfully entranced by Parvati and was determined to do anything that she asks, Hermione found herself alone most of the time.
Years ago she would have embraced having such time to herself. But after years of having companionship, the loneliness began to wear on her. Draco Malfoy was a happy distraction in lieu of that.
"Need any help?"
Malfoy's shoulders slumped at the sound of her voice. While a part of Hermione enjoyed the fact that he had such a reaction to her, another small part of her hated the fact that his reaction was one that was so hostile.
"No," Malfoy said easily as he bent down to pick up his bag.
Hermione couldn't help but notice how clumsy he was recently. He was always dropping things.
After a moment of hesitation, she got on her knees to help him gather his things. Malfoy didn't make any snide remarks about it, even though Hermione kept looking at his direction in expectation. Once she had picked up a quill and handed it to him, Malfoy stared at it for a moment before yanking it away from her grip and stuffing it into his bag without much thought.
"You're welcome," Hermione said carefully.
Malfoy didn't say a word. He stood up quickly and left, without so much as a glance behind him.
As Hermione sighed and turned to go to her next class herself, her glance fell on a certain Slytherin who had been watching their interaction from the side.
Pansy Parkinson raised an immaculate eyebrow in question and Hermione, frazzled by her expression as well as the knowledge that Parkinson had been watching them, turned on her heel and left.
She had to really focus on her classes, not Slytherins and their behaviour.
Draco scowled at the bowl that was placed before him. It looked like soup.
"What's this?"
Pansy raised a mocking eyebrow as she sat down next to him, essentially blocking him in when Blaise took the seat on the other side of him. When Draco looked at his friend in disbelief, Blaise shrugged. It couldn't have been any more obvious that Pansy had gotten Blaise involved in this under duress.
"It's food," Pansy said with a bored tone. "Eat."
Draco felt his stomach growl in hunger, but he pushed the food away nonetheless. As hungry as he was, nothing seemed to appease his appetite. Nothing stayed down long enough for his hunger to be satisfied, and the last thing he needed was for his two so-called friends to know this new development of his life. They might make things difficult for him.
Besides, he had a growing suspicion as to why Pansy decided to taunt him by bringing him food, something that she would not do for her own sickly mother. He eyed the soup warily. He really shouldn't trust any form of apparent kindness that she acts upon. There was always something more; a hidden agenda, one might say.
Pansy sighed, rolling her eyes first for effect. "Fine. I'll take it."
Leaning forward, she picked up the bowl, dipped the spoon in it and sipped at it with relish. Draco looked away when his stomach growled again.
His eyes fell on a Gryffindor who was seated at the other end of the common room. She was busy hunched over a book, her brows scrunched thoughtfully together.
Blaise shifted in his seat and got comfortable. "Have any of you heard from Goyle recently?"
"Not for a while," Draco mumbled distractedly. "I thought he was staying with his grandmother."
Draco vaguely wondered if it hurt her head to concentrate so much.
"My mother met his grandmother about a week ago. He hasn't been home for a while, it seems."
"Must be busy."
She frowned further as she bit the tip of her quill. A curl fell across her cheek and she hastily pushed it behind her ear. She kept nibbling on the end of her quill. What a bad habit, Draco thought.
"He should be here," Pansy piped in from the other side of him. "He should finish off Hogwarts like the rest of us and move on."
"Your father wasn't a Death Eater," Blaise said pointedly.
She leaned forward to pull a large book towards her. Her robes rose higher and from the side Draco could see a small expanse of her bare leg before she went back to her position and her robes covered her body wholly.
"What are you looking at?"
Draco dropped his gaze to scowl at Blaise. "Nothing."
When he turned towards Pansy she simply gave him a meaningful look. She didn't say a word as she took another sip of the warm soup.
"Don't worry about it, Blaise," Pansy said with a knowing tone to her words, "you'll figure it out soon enough."
Draco didn't wait for the onslaught of teasing that Pansy clearly planned to shower on him. Cursing under his breath he left the common room to go to his favourite secluded spot to have a nip of something strong.
As he walked, he shoved his hand into the pocket of his robes, his fingers circling a small vial that hadn't been there a moment ago. Draco smiled. Blaise had slipped him the last ingredient he needed while under the pretence of appeasing Pansy. He immediately forgot the idea of a solitary drink and started focusing on the work he had to do.
He felt Granger's eyes on him as he passed her on his way to the door.
The last day before Christmas break didn't go quite as Hermione thought it would.
During Potions period, Neville tripped, knocking over his potion, which in turn fell on Ron's robes, causing the material to burst into bright purple flames. When Hermione and Harry started looking around in panic for something to douse the flames with, Pansy Parkinson, Ron's forced partner for this exercise, easily ripped his robes in half and yanked the material away from him. Hermione barely had time to appreciate this act of kindness when Pansy did the unthinkable and tossed the flaming robes at Hermione. The robes knocked against Hermione's shoulder, falling to the ground with dancing flames as her own robe caught fire. Hermione shrugged out of her robes fast, before her gaze fell on a smirking Pansy and she tossed her own robes against the Slytherin who no doubt tried to kill her. Pansy shrieked as she shrugged out of her own burning robes and started towards Hermione with an intent glare on her face.
By the time Professor Slughorn had heard the sounds of chaos and turned around to see what the possible commotion was, Hermione, Ron and Pansy were breathing deeply, robes torn and hair singed, glares in place while a dishevelled Neville stood in the middle as he looked at them all sheepishly. Harry shook his head and wiped the sweat off his forehead as he cursed under his breath. He didn't think he could handle such panic anymore.
They spoke over each other, hands flailing, gazes narrowed, but Professor Slughorn simply shook his head sympathetically as he passed on his verdict: detention, for the four of them. Harry was more than a little satisfied that he wasn't roped in with the rest, although Hermione had no qualms about saying that the reason for his exclusivity was how fond Professor Slughorn was of his most favourite student's son.
That is how Hermione found herself in the Trophy room on her knees using a dirty rag to wipe a Ravenclaw award that was almost as tall as her. The work would not have been as tedious if it weren't for the two who were bickering right behind her.
"That's not how it's done."
"Really? I suppose a Slytherin priss like you knows how best to wipe down anything?"
"I am a Parkinson," Pansy hissed. "We own things; things that you and your pauper of a family would never see in a hundred years. We know how to take care of our valuables."
Hermione looked over her shoulder just in time to see the two of them leaning back on their knees to eye each other warily. Ron's jaw tightened before he reached for a rag that was floating in a bucket of soapy water and tossed it at her. When the wet rag hit Pansy's face and she let out a gasp of indignation, Ron smirked happily as he went back to polishing a shield with extra vigour. His smirk fell when Pansy reached for the very bucket he had been using and proceeded to douse him over the head with the water that was inside of it. She placed the bucket back down with an arrogant air as he blinked the soap out of his eyes. "Must be nice having a bath after so long, isn't it, Weasley?"
Before Ron could do something much worse, Hermione stood up quickly and moved to stand between them. Ron had already pushed back his wet hair as his hand tightened around the shield he had been polishing. His eyes were narrowed dangerously.
"This is not the time," Hermione said calmly to her best friend before looking pointedly at Pansy and her smug expression. "Both of you."
Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "You're taking her side?"
"I'm not." Hermione saw Neville duck behind a pile of old cups quickly, probably in hope of avoiding this altercation. If Hermione was going to be part of it, she saw no reason why Neville should not. "Neville? Maybe we should switch now."
Neville popped his head out from a particularly bright trophy and opened his mouth to reply her when Pansy easily spoke over him.
"Get back to work, Longbottom. Leave the heavy lifting to those who won't mess it up."
Ron glared at her. "Don't talk to him like that."
Neville shifted from one foot to the other. "It's okay—"
"Not now, Neville," Ron snapped at him before glaring once again at Pansy.
Pansy simply raised a mocking eyebrow at him.
Hermione sighed before she turned fully towards Neville. "I think it's better if you help Ron while I work with Pansy."
"Hermione…" Ron's protests died down once she placed her hands on her hips and gave him a meaningful look. "Fine," he said explosively as he started getting to his feet to go to the other end of the trophy room. Hermione could barely hear him mutter, 'Bloody nuisance' under his breath as he walked away.
Once Hermione took Ron's place and started polishing the shields he had been polishing, Pansy let out a low laugh.
"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought you used the Imperius Curse on these two."
Hermione didn't favour her with a reply. She simply rubbed the shield harder with the rag.
Looking at her with amusement, Pansy continued. "Is that what you're doing with Draco? Are you trying to control him?"
Hermione's head snapped up in surprise. "What?"
"Ah! She speaks! I guess even Draco's name has magical abilities to make any Mudblood talk."
Hermione's lips pursed at the insult. "I could bring Ron back, you know."
"Ugh. That clumsy oaf is better with Longbottom. They can be clumsy together."
As Hermione went back to the act of polishing, Pansy ignored her work as she kept a scrutinising eye on her companion.
"I don't understand you, you know."
Hermione rolled her eyes, her actions hardly affected by the discussion. "I didn't think you wanted to try."
"I don't," Pansy said hastily, a small frown marring her features. "What I don't understand is your fascination for my friend. You have your own. Why not keep them? I would be willing to trade, but Potter is too self-righteous and Weasley is too… Weasley." She shuddered for effect.
Huffing, Hermione dropped any pretence of work to give Pansy an annoyed look. "What are you on about?"
"Draco," Pansy said calmly as she went back to her own work. "For some reason you're following him around Hogwarts like a little tart."
Hermione felt her cheeks redden. "I am not following him around. And I am not a tart."
"Fine. Prove it, then." Pansy looked at her meaningfully. "Leave him alone."
Hermione's lips parted in indignation before she understood the merit behind Pansy's insulting request. "Fine," she said finally, choosing her next words carefully. "I won't seek him out."
Pansy let out a low breath as if she was finally relieved. "Good."
The rest of detention passed without an incident, unless someone considered Ron using another bucket of soapy water to dump on Pansy's head, which in turn led to a rag and water fight that Neville and Hermione tried their best to avoid, an incident. Unfortunately for Hermione, before she could straighten the whole place out, their warden appeared with usual scowl adorning his already displeased features.
It barely took a minute before Filch surveyed the Trophy room before he deemed it insufficiently cleaned and demand they come back during the first week after Christmas break to finish the job.
Hermione and Neville stifled a groan as Ron and Pansy glared at each other so hard that one would have surely burst into flames had their gazes not dropped at the very last minute.
It seemed like every time he turned around, Draco was assaulted with another celebration. He didn't understand why everyone around him was fascinated with the idea of throwing parties. Every occasion was a cause for celebration. He hated every minute of it. But there were certain perks he could draw from when everyone at Hogwarts was too busy acting like children. He had peace and quiet. He could concentrate.
Draco didn't bother with a warming charm as he stepped outside onto the roof of the Astronomy Tower. The wind whipped around him strongly, the snow fell in a steady stream of white. At moments like these, when he felt alone, he breathed a little easier. Usually, he could feel eyes burning into his back while people judged him. It was liberating not to steel himself from glares and sneers.
Tonight was the night when Hogwarts was hosting its first annual Christmas Party since the fall of the Dark Lord. At midnight stockings will be filled with ridiculously wrapped gifts and the celebration will continue as everyone opens their presents. Draco knew for a fact that his stocking would be filled with coal, maybe one or two gifts from Blaise and Pansy.
With cautious steps he made his way to the very edge of the Astronomy Tower. He placed both hands on the bannister, letting his fingers brush against the wood in contemplation for a moment until a splinter got stuck in his thumb. Draco winced as he pulled it out and tossed it to the side. He then placed his hands on the wood once again, palms facing down as he leant against the bannister and looked down, studying the steep drop with thoughtful eyes.
He could remember the moment when the curse had hit Albus Dumbledore's chest; the moment he had fallen from the Astronomy Tower, already dead before his body had reached the ground.
Would he fall? Would he die the moment his head hit the ground?
Draco stepped back, his courage dwindling with each passing second. He had planned this excursion for months. Surely, he was ready. Surely, this was meant to be.
Draco stepped back further, keeping his feet flat and steady as he kept moving backwards until his back hit the wall. He couldn't help but shiver from the cold. His forehead felt clammy with sweat.
He could do this. It was now or never. He could do this.
As he always did before a game of Quidditch, Draco imagined what success would feel like, what it would look like, as well as the expressions of his father and mother when they hear of the news. He imagined how his mother would sigh happily and wrap him in her arms while his father would clap his hand on Draco's shoulder and smile proudly at him. It was that thought that made him smile.
Draco ignored the weakness he felt in his limbs. It had been several days since he had last eaten, every meal forced between his lips was spit out less than a minute later. But it would all be worth it if this becomes a success.
Taking in one final deep breath before letting it out slowly, Draco straightened his back in preparation. He didn't think. He didn't second-guess himself. He ran, leapt over the bannister and jumped from the Astronomy Tower.
"Leaving again?"
Hermione squinted through tear-filled eyes at her best friend. She had just suffered through her fourth yawn in a row and she was feeling the need to sleep all through her exhausted body.
"How did you know?" she asked with a small, tired laugh. She took a sip of her drink and placed it on a nearby table. She had been thinking of leaving, not necessarily standing near the entrance ready to bolt.
Harry shrugged, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "I could guess."
Hermione felt the urge to yawn again, which she did as she tried to follow the rules of etiquette and delicately cover her mouth.
This made Harry laugh. "Come on, I'll walk you."
"I am hardly a Damsel in Distress in need of an escort, Harry. Besides, what about…?" She looked around the Great Hall until her eyes fell on a familiar redhead. Hermione twitched her head towards Ginny's direction.
Harry followed Hermione's gaze before shrugging lightly. "She was the one who sent me over here."
"Oh." Hermione felt her back stiffen. "She wants me to leave that much?"
His laugh was light. "No, she was worried that you might sleepily keep walking until you've fallen into the Black Lake. Why won't you just go talk to her?"
"She needs to apologise first," Hermione said stubbornly.
Harry let out a tired sigh. "That's what she told me when I suggested that she talk to you," he said pointedly. "You two are going to waste the year waiting for the other to apologise."
Hermione crossed her arms and looked at him stubbornly. "She started it."
Harry shook his head in disbelief. "You're so stubborn!"
"And she's not?"
"She's worse," he said without hesitation. "All of this because of Ron, who has moved on?"
Hermione saw Ron over Harry's shoulder as he leant closer to Parvati, their heads practically touching. Pansy walked by, a snide comment on her lips and an unpleasant stare aimed right for their best friend. Ron looked up and glared at her as she passed, Parvati forgotten.
"I suppose it's silly," Hermione mumbled under her breath. "I can't talk to her first, though." They could go into battle, face a Dark Lord with a dwindling army, defeat him and save the world, but a petty schoolyard fight was what made them stop talking. Hermione would have found the whole situation hilarious if it weren't for the fact that Ginny had expressed such a low opinion of her when she had broken up with her brother. Maybe Ginny hadn't meant it, but her words had hurt. Hermione hadn't been kind in her words when she had retaliated either.
Realising that the battle was a losing one, Harry gestured towards the entrance. "Let me walk you."
Hermione nodded as she sleepily took his arm and let her escort her. As they left the Great Hall, she relaxed against him, allowing herself to place her head on his shoulder and close her eyes while they kept walking. She trusted Harry enough to know that he wouldn't let her stumble or fall. She missed having his shoulder to lean on. She missed him.
"We haven't spent much time together this year, have we?"
"No," Harry said softly. "Things have been busy."
"With Ginny?"
He was silent for a moment. "Can I talk to you about this?"
His tone made her open her eyes and pull her head away from him so she could see his face. "What is it?"
They were now walking down a long, open corridor that was completely empty. Even though there was no one around, her voice had been soft.
Harry hesitated. "Things have been different lately. I love her," he added hastily. "I do! It's just… She keeps asking me questions that I can't seem to answer."
"What questions?"
"About the Horcruxes. About Voldemort. She asked me if—"
A sudden rustling sound caused him to stop mid-sentence. Hermione looked around. She had heard it too.
Looking at each other with silent communication, they pulled apart, untangling themselves from the other before quietly pulling out their wands. Harry gestured towards a patch of garden to their left. Hermione nodded and started for it, agreeing that the sound had come from that direction.
They moved quietly, years of training keeping them cautious with their backs trained to each other. It was Hermione who found him.
"Malfoy," she breathed out, surprised, as she quickly fell onto her knees beside him. He looked to have fallen amongst a range of bushes, cuts decorating his face and most of his body that was exposed when the robes fell haphazardly around him. Hermione placed a hand on his chest and felt her shoulders relax. He was still breathing. He was only unconscious.
Looking up, she eyed Harry expectantly. "Are you going to stand there or are you going to help me?"
Harry, who had been staring at Malfoy as if he had suddenly seen a ghost, blinked rapidly, breaking himself out of a reverie. "Right. Sorry."
"What do you think happened?" Hermione looked all around as she tried to assess the situation. She wondered if he had any broken bones or fractures.
Harry joined her on the other side of Malfoy; his first instinct was to look up. "I think he jumped."
Hermione followed his gaze, her eyes landing on the top of the Astronomy tower before falling once again on the unconscious Slytherin. "Help me get him to Madam Pomfrey."
Together they decided to levitate his body to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey who had been enjoying a night away from sickly children mumbled under her breath when they appeared. However, her displeasure didn't stop her from efficiently taking Malfoy off their hands and telling them curtly, "Visiting hours are over."
Hermione instantly protested. "But we found him—"
"You can see him tomorrow."
Before Hermione could say another word, a curtain was yanked in front of her face. Harry placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders.
"You can see him tomorrow morning."
She shook her head. "The Hogwarts Express leaves before visiting hours start."
Harry stayed silent, his brows knitted in a frown.
"What is it?"
He eyed her curiously, as if she was a puzzle he was trying to understand. "I didn't know you were such good friends with him."
"I'm not," Hermione said quickly. She shifted from one foot to the other, trying her best not to worry her lower lip the way her best friends knew she did. "Whatever that happened… It looked dangerous, that's all."
Harry nodded, his expression giving away that he has his own thoughts he was thinking about. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Why were you looking at him like that?"
His frown turned grim as he looked away from her. He obviously understood what she was meant. "Was just remembering the mistakes I've made."
He didn't have to say anything further. Hermione circled an arm around his waist as they started walking back from where they came from. In an effort to change the subject, Hermione couldn't help but ask, "What are the chances of Molly Weasley actually accepting me at the Burrow after I broke up with her son? Do you think Ron was lying when he said that she had invited me to stay over for the holidays?"
Harry thought on that for a moment. "She loves you," he said finally. "She'll probably welcome you with open arms, get you to do all the cleaning as punishment and then forget the whole business."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "That sounds perfect."
"On the other hand," continued Harry seriously, "there's also a good chance she might poison you and use you for a Muggle-born trophy."
Hermione didn't think before whacking him twice for such a snide remark, her own laughter joining his. And even though her best friend drew her attention for that brief moment, she still thought of another person as she climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express the next morning.
Molly Weasley's wrath wasn't the only thing Hermione thought of during those two weeks. She thought of one particular Slytherin so often that she had started thinking of him as 'Draco' in her mind.
.