Usual disclaimer, I am not JK Rowling, these are my imaginings with her wonderful world and the characters who live in it. Thank you Rowling for giving us all so much inspiration.

"Hermione Granger and the Seventh Year"

a fanfic by Cerys Dewar

Chapter Nine

"No, no, NO, absolutely not, Draco Malfoy!"

"C'mon Granger, I haven't had any fun since the first day back here, and I want to make sure we match and you don't go choosing Gryffindor colours again."

"I am not going to Diagon Alley with you to shop for robes. Firstly, I don't shop with boys. Secondly, I am not going to put up with Ron and Harry's reactions beforehand."

"You really do need to stop being so afraid of them. It's a little pathetic. You are your own witch and they don't really have the right to make your choices for you."

"Excuse me? This coming from you, of all people?"

"Ouch, Granger."

Hermione reddened as she looked across the table at Draco. His usually pale face was even more pale, and his eyes stared into hers, showing her just how much she'd stung him. Hermione felt so ashamed of herself for such a low blow.

Draco had received a letter from the Ministry the week before, informing him of his father's court date before the Wizengamot. Narcissa had asked him to accompany her to the trial and to testify along with her. Draco was conflicted over whether or not to submit to questioning, whether or not to give evidence. He wanted his abusive father locked away in Azkaban forever, so he couldn't hurt him or his mother anymore, but he was struggling with everything his father had put him through, all the brainwashing to believe that Draco was to blame for everything.

"I'm sorry, Draco. That was uncalled for and unfair of me."

Draco sighed tiredly and reached over to hold Hermione's hand. Hermione was far past the stage of being surprised whenever this happened. Draco seemed to be in just as much need as Hermione for simple acts of connection, both of them being separated from their families and facing such huge changes in their lives.

"It's alright. You have a point, and so do I. Let's make a deal."

Hermione gave him what Draco called the "McGonagall stare". She refused about half of the plans Draco came up because of the sheer slyness of them. Draco sighed again, and she rolled her eyes and made her face relax. They were both working on their trust issues together: Draco to become more open, and Hermione to become less judgemental. Draco wrapped his other hand around their hands and released his facial expression also.

"I will go to my father's trial, I will be there for my mother as planned, but I will also testify and submit myself to whatever questioning they have in mind. In return, you will brew up some Polyjuice Potion for the both of us so we can go robes shopping in Diagon Alley so I can get out of this damn castle for fun reasons and so you aren't worried about Potter and the Weasel having conniptions over our friendship."

Hermione thought about it for a moment and then shook his hand. Draco grinned at her and squeezed her hand as he jumped up from the table. He released her hand and swept his books into his bag with a determined look on his face.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"I'm going to owl mother and let her know my decision before I can chicken out. You go start working on that potion, Granger. At least Slughorn is much easier to steal from than my godfather was."

Draco dashed off, leaving in his wake Hermione, who still sat, rolling her eyes. Draco was every single bit as bossy as she could be, and she was beginning to feel a little bad for every time she'd bossed Ron and Harry around.

One month later, at the beginning of December and two weeks before the Yule Ball, an elderly witch and wizard tottered into Diagon Alley, the wizard fussing and fuming, and the witch with a grim set to her mouth and a murderous gleam in her eyes.

"Stop fussing Draco Malfoy or we are going HOME."

"I'm not Draco Malfoy. I'm Edgar Smylie, remember, dearest?"

"Don't take that tone with me. We couldn't very well use hair from a witch or wizard. What if we ran into the people we're impersonating?"

"I understand why you used Muggle hair, Granger, but why your Muggle grandparents'?"

"It was what was available."

"This had better wear off by the time we get to Madam Malkin's. I cannot shop for my robes when I'm not my usual handsome self."

"If I haven't murdered you by the time we get there, you will be changing back to yourself, and I have the flasks for afterwards."

As they turned the corner, George Weasley stepped outside of his shop to sweep the front steps and smiled at the arguing old couple. They were such short little people, maybe five feet if that, and they were obviously having some sort of married people spat, which he found hilarious. He chuckled dryly as he turned back into the shop to tell Lee Jordan about it.

Hermione and Draco grew back to their normal heights and regular features as they were ushered into a private fitting suite by Joelle and Madam Malkin, who had been warned beforehand by Hermione that they would be arriving in this manner. Both had been sympathetic to her explanation of why she and Draco wanted privacy. As Joelle drew Hermione into one of the fitting rooms, she stage whispered her approval of Draco and the romance of their forbidden love.

"He's so handsome, mademoiselle, and a nice bottom if I may say. So romantic, you English and your shyness about l'amour."

Hermione's eyes bulged as she looked to her friend and realized that Draco had heard every word. Draco winked at her outrageously and blew her a kiss. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"He's just a friend and a terrible prat, Joelle."

"Mademoiselle, you should snap him up before someone else does. That bottom!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and diverted the older witch to the task of robes designing. For the next hour, suggestions were called back and forth between the fitting rooms and both Hermione and Draco were marched in and out of the sitting area to compare designs. Finally, they had both settled on robes that they were extremely pleased with and they were ready to purchase their robes. As Draco managed the payment and delivery arrangements, Hermione fished in her bag for their flasks of Polyjuice Potion. Suddenly the peaceful silence of the shop was split by a hoarse roar that Hermione knew all too well.

"Oi, Hermione! What the HELL are you doing with that bloody git?"

Hermione turned and glared at Ron and Harry, unconsciously stepping protectively between them and Draco, who looked unimpressed and had his wand already in his hand.

"It's called shopping, Ronald. What else would we be doing in here. What are YOU doing here?"

"We were on our way back from the pub and saw you through the window and came in to see if you were surprising us with a visit, and then we saw HIM with you."

Hermione glared at Ron and Harry. Everyone's wands were out and Draco was now at Hermione's side. Dueling was beginning to look inevitable. Fortunately, Madam Malkin was having none of that. At all. She drew her wand and sent them all out the door in a gust of wind, yelling after them to deal with their problems elsewhere. Draco helped Hermione to her feet after leaping to his, and Harry and Ron were already back in dueling stance. Hermione turned to her companion, trembling with anger but keeping her voice down.

"Draco. Kindly go home. I will come see you when I return."

"No you don't. If Gryffindor's are getting their butts hexed today, I'm helping."

"Draco, please. This is not the place to do this and it will not help your image right before the trial, fighting with two aurors in training. Please. I need to deal with this anyways."

Draco grumbled but nodded silently. He gave Hermione a quick side hug and then stepped away. With a loud crack, he was gone, and Hermione stood, facing down her best friends. Ron stepped forward as if to lecture Hermione, but Harry grabbed him and yanked him back.

"We are not having this out in the street. Hermione, please come back to the apartment with us. I'll make some tea; I'd like to hear your side of things before any of us does anything stupid."

Hermione rolled her eyes angrily but agreed. Neither boy offered her an arm as was their usual habit; she was so angry she was practically crackling with it, and her eyes were blazing with tears that were threatening to spill out. They trudged back to the apartment and Hermione stomped up the stairs ahead of them, startling George, who was just handing the reins over to one of his employees for the evening. Sensing something was wrong, George followed them quietly. Nobody noticed him because as soon as the trio had reached the top of the stairs Ron had grabbed Hermione's arm.

"We need to know what you were doing with him of all people, 'Mione! He's a death eater for Merlin's sakes."

Hermione lost it. She whipped her arm out of his grasp, crying out a little in pain from his tight grip. Harry looked a little shocked but Ron only glared at her, red in the face.

"Ronald Weasley, he's a former death eater and he's been accepted back by McGonagall herself at school so don't you think just maybe he deserves a second chance? Also, for your bloody damn information, you do NOT own me! I can go shopping with whomever I like! I can make friends with whomever I like! Neither you or Harry know what Draco has been through and you're full of prejudice towards him and you DON'T EVEN KNOW HIM."

"Well, how is it that YOU know him so well all of a sudden, Hermione? Did you go straight to his arms when you went back to school? I saw how comfortable you were with the greasy little git. I saw-"

Before Ron could get any further, George stepped behind Hermione and wrapped his arms around her protectively. Before Harry could sputter out a single word, a loud crack split the air, and George and Hermione disappeared.