A/N – Thanks for all your reviews! I appreciate them a lot, now on with the story…
His Tale
"Tell me a story! Are you kidding me, Malfoy?" shouted Hermione. "You just punched me, pinned me down, asked me to believe that you aren't a Death Eater yet, and now you want to tell me a story?! You must be out of you're mind!"
Unexpectedly, after Hermione had finished ranting, she saw that Malfoy was not looking pissed at her. Draco, in spite of himself, could not refrain from being amused by her loud outburst and gave her a half smile, half smirk. She looked awfully cute when she was adamant or angry about something, and now was no exception.
"I am quite sane, thank you Granger," he said, releasing his hold on her and sat down on the couch next to her. Hermione was surprised by this, at stared at him oddly, but she wasn't going anywhere; he had already piqued her curiosity.
"Well what do you have to say then, Malfoy? Because there are a ton of other and much more worthwhile things I could be doing right now rather than listening to your story."
"Have you finished disparaging me yet?" Malfoy drawled. Hermione paused but then nodded her head affirmatively, facing him directly, her attention focused on Malfoy. She had remembered that a few days ago she had resolved as to why Malfoy was behaving so oddly, and maybe he was going to tell her now.
"Well I shall start from the beginning then. Shortly after my parents were married, I was born for the purpose of being my father's successor, not only as the Malfoy heir but also in the ranks of the Dark Lord. My mother, a Pureblood Ravenclaw, didn't know of my father's 'activities' when they were married, and it was only until I was born that she discovered that Lucius wouldn't be the loving and caring father she had thought and hoped he would be." Malfoy took a deep breath and shot a quick glance at Hermione who was enraptured already by his story. She was staring intently at him, her eyes begging him to continue.
"While I was only a baby, my mother was allowed to care for me how she wanted and loved me, but when I turned 3, my father took over my upbringing. I was excommunicated from my mother, I only sometimes saw her at meal times. At the age of 3, I was still very prone to throwing tantrums," he paused to see Hermione giving him the kind of look that plainly said 'you still are,' and he smiled a little before continuing.
"My father disliked these very much, and began punishing me, little by little. First it started just by a slap on the wrist, but as I grew older his punishments became worse and worse – not because I was still throwing tantrums of course – and by the age of 10 he was using the Cruciatus curse on me regularly." Hermione gasped in horror as an image of a little boy in such exquisite pain filled her mind as water filled her eyes. Draco looked at the shock upon her face and willed her not to pity him. He didn't want to be pitied – he wanted to be understood. But by Hermione Granger? His head was spinning in circles, trying to figure out why he was exactly doing this. But the feeling of that weight upon his shoulders lifting felt so good that it didn't matter much to him anymore. With a small sigh, he ploughed on.
"He said I needed to be immune to pain, though of course he only meant physical pain. He would know nothing of emotional pain. My mother knew what my father was doing, and often begged him to stop hurting me, which would only result in her receiving the Cruciatus curse also. When my father left the Manor for 'business' my mother and I spent as much time as we could together. She made me promise her that I would never become like my father, though I think I have let her down is some respect," said Draco sombrely, hanging his head in shame. He was remembering all those times when he had called Granger a Mudblood and all the other Muggleborns too. That was what his father had raised him to do and think. That Mudbloods were below Purebloods, just like in the Muggle world black people were below white people.
Hermione wanted to say something to reassure him that he was definitely not like his father; after all, he was entrusting her, a muggleborn, with his life story, but she didn't want him to get sidetracked.
"When he was there, he would be teaching me skills in Dark magic, and if I didn't do it right the first time, I would be punished accordingly. He forced me to learn to hide my emotions on my face, saying that emotion was a weakness. I had to be prepared for my future as a cunning and loyal Death Eater. He almost brainwashed me into thinking that I wanted to become one, but it was only those brief periods with my mother when I saw the truth – I didn't want to be like my father and follow the Dark Lord. When I received my first letter from Hogwarts, I was so excited about the prospect of leaving my father's clutches and curses, and make actual friends rather than the sons and daughters of fellow Death Eaters. However, my father denied me of that also. He had spies like Crabbe and Goyle, who were too stupid to know what they were doing, to make sure that I was only friends with the Slytherin Purebloods. I was forced to act the part of being Lucius Malfoy's son – hateful, spiteful etc. and to consider Muggleborns beneath me."
"So you're saying that the whole seven years I've known you have all been an act?" questioned Hermione, half disbelieving and half astounded. She still was unsure. But now, after having revealed his childhood to her, she felt as though she could perhaps believe him. She rubbed her eyes a little with the sleeve of her sweater so that Malfoy wouldn't see the pools of glass in them.
"At first, yes. I really tried hard to keep my mother's promise when I was in my younger years, but then it grew into a habit, beginning from the very first time I called you a M – you know what. I let my father's voice rule my every move, action, and thought as I morphed into the monster that he is. But during the last summer holidays, everything changed." Hermione nodded her head in understanding. She knew something was wrong – after all, why else would've he come into Flourish and Blotts all those times if something hadn't been up.
"I was told," he said, shuddering slightly, "that I had to become a Death Eater in the forthcoming Christmas break, along with some other Slytherins."
"Christmas break? That's so soon! Are you even of age?" asked Hermione.
"Yes, I turned 17 last June," said Malfoy.
"And you don't have a choice." Hermione said this as a statement, not a question. Malfoy nodded once in conformation.
"Yes. I will become a Death Eater and I'm definitely not proud to be," he said angrily.
"There must be some way around it… I'm sure we can think of something," suggested Hermione softly.
"There's only so much time until my father and other Death Eaters will find me Granger. And then there is only one penalty for deserters and disloyalty…" he trailed off, looking vaguely through the high windows at the lake while Hermione's brain was whirring around all his possible options.
"Malfoy," she said suddenly, breaking the silence, "I think I have an idea…"
XXX
"You did it?! And she said yes?!" exclaimed Harry and Ginny simultaneously. They were sitting in the Gryffindor common room late at night on the couches beside the roaring fire, looking flabbergasted at Ron, who was smiling from ear to ear.
"Yeah, she did! And after our match this Saturday we are going to Hogsmeade together," said Ron enthusiastically. "She was really excited and thrilled too when I asked her," Ron babbled. Harry glanced sideways at Ginny who wasn't paying any attention anymore to her brother either.
"Harry! Ginny! Are you guys listening to me?!" said Ron once he had realised that his best friend and younger sister were paying more attention to each other rather than him.
"Oh yeah sorry Ron. Um, where are you taking Hermione then?" asked Harry.
"Well I hadn't really thought of a place yet… maybe Hermione will think of something good," hoped Ron. Ginny rolled her eyes at her naïve brother.
"Ron, if I were you, I would be planning the date all by myself if I wanted any chance of staying with Hermione," she said seriously. "You're going to have to make an effort."
"But I'm sure Hermione wouldn't mind. She's not that sort of girl like Lavender or Parvati," argued Ron weakly.
"But she's still a girl!" exclaimed Ginny. "Believe me, I'm one too, and I know these things about Hermione much better than either of you two do," and she stormed off towards the 6th year girls dorm.
"I think Ginny's right Ron," said Harry quietly.
"Just because you're in love with her doesn't mean that you have to take her side when we argue," complained Ron, who then also left for bed. Without a retort, Harry sighed and followed him up the stone stairs; it was rather late anyway.
XXX
"An idea?" asked Malfoy, very interested.
"Yes, but –"
"There's always a 'but'"
"But I don't think that you'll like it much," said Hermione, ignoring Malfoy's interjection.
"Well I'm kind of desperate at the moment Granger. So could you please just tell me anyway?" he asked as politely as possible. Hermione conceded and began to inform him of her idea.
XXX
Ron was lying in his bed, trying to figure out what to do for Hermione at Hogsmeade while listening to the deep snores of Dean and Neville. 'Maybe I'll go and ask her now,' he thought, 'after all, she still would be up doing homework.' He got out of bed and left his dormitory, not without grabbing Harry's invisibility cloak. He knew the approximate place where the Head Dormitory was, so he proceeded down to the sixth floor.
XXX
"A spy?!" shouted Malfoy, standing up brusquely.
"I told you that you wouldn't like it," Hermione mumbled, sinking back into the couch. Malfoy looked at her curiously for a second, and then smiled a real smile. To Hermione, it was the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen. 'Get your mind of the gutter, Hermione!' she chided herself silently.
"Granger, it's the best idea I've heard so far," he said and to Hermione's astonishment, he hugged her warmly. His muscular arms went around her waist and hers went hesitantly around his neck.
"So you'll become a Death Eater to help the Order?" asked Hermione in his ear. Malfoy pulled back, a bit embarrassed and nodded.
"Maybe I can do something useful with my life and status to help get rid of those sons of bitches," he said vehemently. Hermione stayed silent for a while, then broke the silence.
"How about we go and see Dumbledore tomorrow?" she suggested.
"No, tomorrow's not good; I have Quidditch practice all afternoon, and for every other afternoon this week. Though perhaps we can go after the match on Saturday?"
"Okay then that sounds good." Hermione yawned and stood up, stretching her body. "I think that I'll go to bed now. Goodnight Malfoy."
Maybe she wasn't so bad. Hell, she had the body and looks of a model (besides the fairly shorter height) and she was smart; even more so than he was.
"Wait Granger! I want to ask you something," rushed Malfoy impulsively, stopping her before she left the common room.
"Yes?" asked Hermione, puzzled by his tone and manner as she always was, quite frankly.
"Actually I meant two things. Firstly, what I said before stays in this room. I don't want Potter and Weasley, or anyone else for that matter, blackmailing me. Got it?" Hermione nodded. "Secondly, do you think that maybe we could be… friends? But you don't have to say yes. Only if you wanted, of course…" he rambled. Hermione smiled at him. His cheeks were going pink from embarrassment.
"I don't know Malfoy. I mean, that's a pretty big ask," said Hermione mock-seriously. But Malfoy being Malfoy, took it completely seriously and looked almost hurt. "I was kidding Malfoy! I would want to be your friend! But there is only one prerequisite," she added.
"And that is…" Draco pre-empted.
"You have to call me by my first name, Hermione. Do you think you can do that Draco?" Draco grinned when she said his name. It sounded nice coming from her as it was spoken without malice or hate.
"I reckon I can handle that, Hermione. Goodnight."
"Night Draco. Don't let the bed bugs bite," joked Hermione before she realised that Draco wouldn't get it.
"Bed bugs?" he questioned, looking puzzled at her.
"Don't worry Draco. It's just a muggle thing," laughed Hermione before she disappeared into her room. Draco just watched the place where she had just been. 'I just told her everything…' he thought repeatedly. 'And I'm really glad I did…'
Hermione lay in her giant bed that night fully awake, as her mind would not stop working. His words 'Do you think that maybe we could be friends?' echoed around her brain she tried to work out whether he was telling the truth or not. He had been mean to her for the past six years; called her a mudblood daily, teased and taunted her and Harry and Ron, but then he said it had all been an act. Still that would give him no reason to tell her everything that he had just told her. There was Blaise Zabini, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle… but maybe he needed a friend, a confident, who had no connections with the Death Eaters or his father… someone whom he could trust not to tell… but why pick her? Soon she fell into a deep dream-filled sleep amongst her red satin sheets and pillows.
XXX
After an hour of wandering along the sixth floor, Ron decided to give up, return to bed, and just ask Hermione where her bloody common room was at breakfast the next morning. He was cold and had almost run into The Bloody Baron once, Filch, and his cat twice. He walked around another corner and unknowingly passed a large painting of a sleeping badger, snake, raven, and a lion as he made his way back to the Gryffindor tower.
XXX
The next morning Hermione woke early to bright rays of sunshine poking their way through her half-pulled curtains. She decided to go to the Great Hall for an early breakfast and surprising Ron and Harry instead of having it in the mini-kitchen as she usually did. For some reason she didn't want to see Draco right away, best leave it until class started. She dressed in her uniform after having a long hot bath and brushed the knots out of her freshly washed hair. She magically dried it and it hung in soft curls down her back.
Hardly anyone was in the Great Hall at that time of the morning, it was after all only 7:00am, and class didn't start until 8:30am. Taking a piece of toast, she buttered it then conjured a jar of vegemite. The year before she had travelled to Australia with her parents and had fallen in love with the black, salty spread. She applied some evenly and ate it quietly. Harry, Ron and Ginny came into the hall followed by the Gryffindor Quidditch Team; all dressed in their Quidditch clothes. Harry spotted her and he, Ron and Ginny made their way over to her.
"Hey Hermione. What are you doing here?" asked Harry as he sat down and took a plateful of scrambled eggs.
"I wanted to have breakfast with my friends, that's why," said Hermione, watching them eating their breakfast as if it was their last meal. "Why did you have Quidditch training this early?" she asked, suddenly remembering that it was only 7:00am.
"The stupid Slytherins booked the pitch every afternoon this week," said Ron, very annoyed. "So we, who actually have a game this week, are forced to wake up at the crack of dawn to train!" He angrily cut his sausages and shoved them into his mouth, barely chewing them before swallowing. Hermione shuddered at the sight and looked away from Ron.
"So are you looking forward to this Saturday?" asked Harry, curious to see his other best friend's reaction.
"This Saturday?" asked Hermione, confused. Harry definitely didn't know about Draco, so what then was he talking to her about?
"Yeah you know, after Quidditch!" interrupted Ron with his mouth full. He stared pointedly at Hermione before she realised.
"After Quidditch… oh my gosh! Hogsmeade! I completely forgot Ron, I'm so sorry, but I have to go with D – I have a meeting with Professor Dumbledore then," she corrected herself quickly. Ron looked devastated and in fact stopped chewing in mid-chew. Harry and Ginny both looked rather surprised too.
"So we're not going on a date anymore?" asked Ron slowly, his anger building up.
"I'm really sorry Ron. But it's a Head meeting and it was the only time when Dumbledore could arrange it," she lied uncomfortably. She hated doing this to her friend, but right then, Draco was more important. "Maybe some other time?" she suggested, then immediately regretted it. She had realised that her only feelings for him were friendly, platonic, and definitely not romantic. That had only been a silly crush and she was too old for those now.
"Okay then! How about –"
"I have to go now to… um, see a Professor," interjected Hermione hurriedly as she spied Draco entering the Hall. "See you at Potions!" and she walked swiftly out of the Hall past Draco who looked confusedly at her but passed her without comment. Harry, Ron and Ginny all glanced at each other wondering what was up with Hermione at the moment.
"Don't worry Ron. She's probably just stressed with her Head duties and being the top student and everything," said Harry, not entirely believing himself. Ron just looked glumly at Hermione's empty seat.
A/N – PLEASE R & R!
