A/N: I am back with another chapter and we're jumping straight into the third-year bandwagon, so I hope you enjoy it! PdA is actually my favorite book, so I am naturally inspired in this setting.
Once again, thank you very much to everyone who followed and reviewed last chapter: Dramione101, Tre, teddyandlilyforever, jzraael and Don't Mind Me Just Reading. I will address your comments at the end of this chapter, but would like to thank you very much for taking the time to review this story! Hope you enjoy this chapter as well and please share your thoughts with me!
By the way, let's see if your guesses about the gift Draco received were right :)
X
"Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple."
― Dr. Seuss
The beginning of that new term was much more confusing and eventful than Hermione had anticipated, after all, she had arrived in Hogwarts just the day before. There should be nothing more than learning and talking to her friends. Nonetheless, something called life had taken care of that and turned those last twenty-four hours into… well, she suddenly found herself at a loss of words. As she headed to the Hospital Wing, her mind could not help but wander off to those absurd events.
X
It had all started during Harry's breakdown in the Hogwarts Express after being attacked by a dementor. As soon as that ghastly creature had arrived, Hermione had felt the worst she had ever felt – lonely, desperate, anguished, miserable. But before she had time to check on her friends, Harry had passed out. Upon waking up, he had talked about hearing a woman screaming, but neither Hermione nor Ron had heard anything. Professor Remus Lupin, who was sharing the compartment with them, had repelled the dementor with a Patronus charm and given each of them a piece of chocolate, which had made them feel instantly better – if you could call it that way.
Harry had spent the rest of the trip in silence and, to be quite honest, none of them felt like saying anything and were left to their own thoughts. The dementor had sucked out their happiness and Hermione felt unexplainably fragile and completely drained, her mind clouded with memories that she would rather forget for the rest of her life.
Her old schoolmates. Overhearing Ron say she had no friends. Being called a mudblood.
However, those awful feelings subsided when Professor Minerva McGonagall called her aside to discuss her new timetables. Hermione had owled the witch over the holidays and asked whether there was a way to sign up for all of the new school subjects: Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Divination. She was not exactly interested in the latter, but had no idea which career to pursue after Hogwarts, so maybe getting that Ordinary Wizarding Level would pay off someday…
"I have found an alternative for you to get the best out of your timetables, Miss Granger," the Professor began, peering at the girl over her glasses. Hermione's eyes lit up immediately and a wave of excitement replaced her previous gloominess. "I must warn you that I wrote to the Ministry of Magic to let them know that you are a model student and would use this device only for academy purposes. What you need, Ms. Granger, is more time and time is finite, fascinating and frightening. Terrible things have happened to witches and wizards who meddled with time, but I trust you to be wise and judicious."
And just like that, Hermione had gotten herself a time-turner, a timepiece that resembled an hourglass on a golden necklace. There was an Hour-Reversal charm encased in the piece and each turn corresponded to an hour back in time, according to Professor McGonagall. Then, with a severity that managed to surpass everything the old witch had ever told Hermione, McGonagall stated that she could never, under any circumstance be seen by her old-self. Terrible things have happened to witches and wizards who meddled with time, she repeated, before telling Hermione off and advising (more like making Hermione promise) her to be wise once again.
Nonetheless, it was not long before Hermione started regretting her decision to sign up for all of the subjects. And that happened, of course, upon stepping into the Divination office up in the North Tower. The class was like a small greenhouse where either an incense shop or a perfumery had blown up and she could sense a migraine blasting inside her head as she whiffed that horrendous scent. Sybil Trelawney, the Divination Professor, looked like an enormous bug with those glasses that made her eyes look ten times bigger and beaded necklaces placed around her skinny neck. Hermione was not very fond of judging a book by its cover, but the witch could not be a more accurate depiction of what Divination entailed. There was absolutely no logic whatsoever to that subject and the witch had started that first class by predicting a plethora of catastrophes that would descend upon each student, especially Harry, who apparently was not going to live to see the end of the term.
Fortunately, Professor McGonagall had found an ill-looking Harry in the middle of the corridor and enlightened that the Divination teacher did that every year and that no one had ever died. According to her, it was Trelawney's special way of welcoming her students, but Hermione noticed very well the skepticism in her favorite teacher's tone and the way her lips crisped more than ever upon mentioning that subject. She, of course, had an inkling suspicion as to why.
Later on, the trio walked straight into their first Care of Magical Creatures class and Hermione had to admit that she was very thrilled for Hagrid, who had been introduced as their new professor. After all that commotion last term in which he had been unfairly accused of reopening the Chamber of Secrets (something he had not even done the first time), that was the least they could do to make up for that injustice.
Hermione absolutely loved the wizarding world, but she had to admit that it was as biased, bigoted and prejudiced as the muggle one. As she always reminded herself, it always came down to people.
"Hey, Hermione, what's with that tan?" she heard a familiar voice calling from behind.
"I told you I went to France, Daph," she answered with a roll of her amber eyes, staying behind to greet her friend. Ron and Harry exchanged skeptical glances and muttered something under their breaths before leaving them.
"Next time I wouldn't mind being invited to go with you," she chuckled, and Hermione rolled her eyes another time.
"As if you didn't spend the entire summer by the pool," Theo piped in, clutching his Monstrous Book of Monsters so tightly that his knuckles were white.
"What else was I supposed to do?" the Slytherin girl asked with a scowl, prodding a finger against his book; Theo lost a bit of his balance, but Hermione held him in place by the elbow.
"I don't know. Maybe reply to my letters on time," he countered with another scowl and Daphne huffed impatiently, tossing her honey blonde hair over the shoulder.
"I thought you wouldn't sign up for this class, Theo. What if we have to study werewolves?" Hermione questioned in a loud voice before Daphne could open her mouth and engage into a pointless argument.
"They can't make us do that," he glowered while Daphne and Hermione exchange mischievous glances and giggled.; Theo was absolutely scared of werewolves. "Can they?" he then added with an abrupt jolt of his neck, looking everywhere as if he expected a werewolf to jump out the nearest bush and attack hem.
"Of course they can't, Theo. And that's because they are humans, not beasts. Besides, we will have that covered in Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"You've already read that book?" Daphne raised her eyebrows in bewilderment, while Theo let out a sigh of relief and almost dropped his book as a result.
"Just a light reading…"
"She probably read all of them, Daph. So, did you figure something out to stop these things, Hermione?" the skinny Slytherin boy indicated his book, which had finally stopped trying to eat his fingers.
"No," she sighed, showing her own book, which was tied with a leather belt.
"Well, that's a first," Blaise remarked out of nowhere with a nonchalant tone, lingering against a tree and watching the three of them with a presumptuous expression.
"What spell did you use, Blaise?" Hermione asked in amusement.
"No spell, Hermione. I simply chose not to buy the book until they told us how to stop this madness," he clarified and the three of them snickered at the same time. Hermione had to admit that she sometimes envied their cunningness…
"C'mon, gather'ound, gather'ound!" Hagrid began telling the third-year kids and Hermione waved goodbye to her friends and joined Harry and Ron in the front row, who pretended not to have noticed her presence.
"How are we supposed to open these things?" she heard Draco ask and her stomach oddly churned upon listening to that drawled voice, a sound that usually made her fists clench in annoyance.
"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. Looking a bit crestfallen at the lack of reaction of the class, he grabbed Hermione's book and demonstrated how to do so.
"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered as he stroked his own book. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"
"I — I thought they were funny," Hagrid said uncertainly to Hermione and she did her best to stand up for the wizard and smile encouragingly, though she intimately could not agree more with Malfoy.
"Oh, tremendously funny!" Malfoy carried on and the Slytherin students sniggered whereas the Gryffindor ones exchanged angry glances at his behavior. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"
"Yes, maybe it could do all of us a favor and rip your tongue off!" Hermione replied, turning around to smirk at the boy. But before Draco could recover from that witty comeback, they were interrupted by Ron.
While everyone stared at whatever Ron was pointing at, Hermione kept smirking at Draco and she could swear that he grinned back and mouthed "Good one, Granger".
"Hagrid, what's that thing?" Ron blurted out, wide-eyed.
That thing, according to Hagrid, was a hippogriff, a majestic magical creature with the front legs, wings, and head of a giant eagle and the body, hind legs and tail of a horse. On top of that, it had a cruel, steel-colored beak and large, brilliantly orange eyes. To make things even worse, the talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly-looking, and Hermione suspected they could tear an adult man in half. While she felt extremely unsettled at that sight, it was undeniable that it had a sort of beauty to it, especially in the way the feathers reflected the sunlight. But, as Hagrid promptly told them, hippogriffs were proud creatures who took offense on the slightest of things. Hermione stepped behind just in case.
"'Arry, come closer," Hagrid encouraged him, obviously oblivious to how panicked the boy looked.
Hermione hoped for the worse, but thankfully Buckbeak reciprocated Harry's bow and allowed him to come closer and pat him. Clearly misunderstanding Harry's relief for excitement, Hagrid had snatched the boy and placed him on Buckbeak, who then started trotting in the middle of the glade before spreading his wings and flying across the sky. The Gryffindor students did not waste any time and promptly erupted in excited cheers, but the Slytherin students were simply too scared to express any emotion. Malfoy was staring at Hagrid with nothing but contempt, but every once in a while, his grey eyes scanned the sky as if he was waiting for Harry's return.
Hermione's eyes met Draco's for the briefest of seconds and it looked as though he would say something to her once again, but then he turned his head swiftly and whispered something to Blaise, who merely shook his head in disapproval.
And just after that little moment, the commotion had started. Draco ignored Hagrid's instructions and got closer to Buckbeak, visibly fuming at the way the Gryffindor students were celebrating Harry's triumphal landing. The next second, Buckbeak was squealing and standing on his hind legs, and the blonde boy had been thrown on the ground as gushing red blood stained his pristine white shirt. Hagrid looked catatonic and contemplated the scene with a motionless stare, while Pansy Parkinson was kneeling beside Draco, sobbing and cursing the teacher with a few choice words. Meanwhile, Malfoy kept moaning and trembling on the ground while Hagrid stood dumbfounded and glued on the ground. Feeling a mix of worry and exasperation invade her senses, Hermione found herself urging Hagrid to do something.
"Hagrid, he needs to be taken to the Hospital Wing!"
X
And now, as the sun began receding on the horizon, Hermione saw herself heading to that very place, with Draco's Monstrous Book of Monsters towed in hand. Obviously, none of his classmates had worried about returning the book to its rightful owner and Hermione could not blame them for doing so. The only reason she had agreed to do so was to cease the voices in her head that compelled her to check if he was alright. So, there she was, hidden under the Cloak of Invisibility that she had borrowed from Harry without his knowledge and about to meet someone she was not even sure would be happy to see her.
Yet, Hermione knew that that was the right thing to do. After all, he had done the same.
That knowledge, however, did not stop the multitude of questions that were bursting in a plethora of different colors and sounds inside her head. Draco had been mean, Draco had been impulsive, Draco had acted as a spoiled boy, Draco had gotten what he deserved. That did not erase the fact that that same Draco had visited her in the Hospital Wing and admitted wanting to be her friend.
Hermione had spent most of the summer replaying that scene and analyzing it from every possible angle. She had no recollections of the time when she had been petrified and that period seemed to have occurred in blank milliseconds – except that moment. That moment – his words – seemed to be carved permanently and unexplainably in her brain.
"I wish we could be friends. Please be safe, Granger."
She had read four different books – both muggle and wizarding – about that sort of paralysis, and the fact that she had regained part of her consciousness during Draco's visit seemed to indicate a strong connection between her mind and the importance of that event. It had powered her core, her soul to an extent she did not even know was possible. Nonetheless, being the brightest witch of her age meant absolutely nothing under that circumstance. Hermione Granger did not know why that had happened because she did not know why Draco made her feel that way.
Questions, questions, questions.
They weren't friends, were they? Maybe they weren't. But they could be.
Before she could help herself, she was standing just before Draco's bed and staring at him.
Draco was lying on his back and facing the ceiling, his arm tied to a sling. Even under the blueish dim-light and from a distance, Hermione found herself studying the boy in silence and noticing how his blonde hair (no longer meticulously kept with hair gel) was falling effortlessly over storm grey eyes and the way his aristocratic features seemed even more eye-catching that way. Shaking her head, Hermione cursed herself mentally for ogling him and paying attention to something so ridiculous. Still chastising herself for being so silly, the girl wondered whether asking Daphne to return him the book wasn't a wiser idea because she was probably about to multiply the questions inside her head tenfold.
Just before turning her back, Hermione's mind traveled to the bouquet of narcissus and a very odd feeling hit her gut once more, so she got closer to Malfoy and removed the cloak.
She was a Gryffindor, after all. Yes, that was it. Bravery and courage. Nothing more than that.
"I thought for a second that there was someone spying me. I just didn't expect to be you, Granger," the boy said in a drawled tone, turning his head to face the girl.
"Why do you keep doing that?" she replied breathlessly, widening her eyes and placing a hand over her heart.
"I'm a Slytherin, we can be sly," he explained with a shrug, tilting his head to the side to examine her.
Funny, she was slightly flushed and disheveled, a very different look from her usual composed demeanor. Unable to contain himself, he embarked on his curiosity. Draco noticed that Granger looked very uncomfortable and unsure as to what she was doing there. She kept glancing everywhere with her big amber eyes, her mouth was parted and there was definitely a slight flush to her face. Upon closer inspection and much to his embarrassment, he found himself realizing that her hair was shorter and less bushy, falling just above her shoulders, and that her complexion was much tanner than last time they had seen each other. But, of course, that was meaningless given that last time she was nothing but an almost lifeless girl lying on the very place he now found himself.
Half-here, half-there. But now, she was there. Which, of course, begged for an explanation.
"What are you doing here?"
I came to pay you back the visit, she thought immediately as her eyes fell on the nightstand. She refrained from smiling at the sight of those bluebell flames, but her heart swelled with joy nonetheless.
"I came to give this back to you," she replied, placing the book atop his nightstand.
"Is this supposed to be funny, Granger?" he asked through gritted teeth, giving her a cool stare and raising an eyebrow, but she did not feel intimidated. "I don't want anything to do with this bloody class! A deadly creature almost killed me!"
"Oh, Malfoy, you're being ludicrous!" she ridiculed, rolling her eyes and then placing a hand over her hips. "You neglected Hagrid's instructions and got yourself in danger probably just because you were jealous of Harry! I know that hippogriffs are considered as dangerous creatures by the Ministry of Magic, but all you had to do was follow the instructions!"
"If Potter did it, it shouldn't be that hard," he grunted, his eyes narrowed as he scowled at her more pointedly now. "And if you're here to gift me with One Thousand Abilities of Saint Potter, I suggest you save my time and walk back to your precious friend.
"No," she retorted in a bossy tone, folding her arms.
"Ok, then do whatever you want," he huffed, looking away, but Hermione got closer to his nightstand and smiled.
"I take it that you got my letter," she said in a casual tone, gazing at the glass jar atop the nightstand.
"Evidently."
"And you didn't throw it away?"
"Looks like it. Not that that bird would have allowed me, of course. Would have ripped my hand apart, judging by her behavior."
"As a matter of fact, Athena is very clever. I asked the owlery if they were selling her, but they weren't," she explained, looking a bit disappointed.
"I can see why you were drawn to her, Granger."
"May I know why?" she glared at him and he contained the urge to snort at that.
"You've just proven my point."
They remained in silence for another minute and it was such a comfortable stance that Hermione could not help but reminisce of their first ever conversation.
"Did you know what the spell was for?" she asked, taking a seat beside him.
"I'm not Longbottom, Granger. I figured out what it was almost immediately. A spell on a parchment and one of your glass jars. You wound me thinking so little of me. "
"You've gotten the hang of it," she mumbled in a soft voice and nodded towards the bluebell flames inside that glass jar beside him. Feeling a bit embarrassed at having her find out that he had used the spell that she had owled him over the summer, albeit very proud at her compliment, Draco chose his usual antics to reply to her.
"Oh, so now you've decided to compliment me on my abilities" he grinned with a crooked smile and she rolled her eyes once again. "That means a lot coming from the brightest witch of her age."
"That's not why I'm here, you git. And by the way, why are you still here?"
"Did you see the size of that bloody chicken's talons?" he questioned, looking like he could not believe her audacity. "It's evident that Madam Pomfrey would want to keep me here for the night! I was seriously injured, believe it or not!"
"Madam Pomfrey can heal cuts in a second."
"Except those that almost break or cut off people's arms!" he responded in a muttered voice. Frowning, she studied his face and detected a hint of vulnerability that did not cross his expression very often. But just as soon as it appeared, it was gone. "I thought you had a bit more sympathy for weaklings, being the noble Gryffindor Princess and all that bullshit."
"A weakling?" she raised her eyebrows as high as she could.
"I could have died, Granger," he insisted in a pleading tone, but the smug sparkle in his grey eyes betrayed his antics.
"If you expected someone fawning and moaning over you, I should have brought dear Pansy Parkinson with me." Draco had the decency to blush and his mischievous smile faded at once.
"Believe me, I've already tried to put an end to that," he murmured, silently, remembering with a grimace how Pansy had cornered in on the Hogwarts Express and then proceeded to kiss him. Ever since that troubling episode, she seemed to be under the illusion that they were dating.
"Clearly," Hermione scoffed, motioning to a piece of parchment under his backpack. It was filled with lots of hearts and love statements in a nastily sweet handwriting.
"Unless you want me to be sicker, just throw that away, Granger," he all but pleaded and Hermione acquiesced promptly with a big smile while Draco exhaled in relief. "I just hope they do something about that oaf. Frankly, a hippogriff for third year students!"
"Don't act like you're innocent, Malfoy. None of this would have happened if you hadn't decided to face Buckbeak when you knew very well that they are proud creatures that require a very specific ritual to interact with others!"
"That won't make any difference to Father," he muttered under his breath, but loud enough for Hermione to listen. Her heart sunk a bit at the fragility of his voice at that statement, but once again he washed away his vulnerability with arrogance and self-righteousness. "The least they could do was lock away the bloody chicken and sack the ridiculous oaf."
"Don't call Hagrid that!" she snapped hastily, flaring her nostrils. "You don't see me calling Crabbe and Goyle names, so I would appreciate if you did the same about Hagrid!"
"Aren't you going to scold me for mocking Potty and the Weasel?"
"I wouldn't waste my breath on that."
"Very clever, Granger, as usual, of course. But, fine, if it makes you feel any better, I won't say anything about Professor Hagrid," he told her, but the contempt in his tone was so evident that Hermione's glare instantly morphed into a frown and a look of disappointment.
"I just don't get you, Malfoy," Hermione confessed with a heavy sigh and Draco realized once more how much he loathed being looked that way by her. "You're arrogant, spoiled and condescending in a moment, always trying to get yourself into trouble, but then…"
"But then what?" he pressed on, straightening his back and leaning forward in eagerness.
"But then you decide to visit me in the Hospital Wing and give me a bouquet of narcissus."
Draco Malfoy's reaction was much different than Hermione had anticipated. She had hoped him to scold her at once, give one of his pointed and nasty sneers, deny that he had done that, call her a lunatic and a mudblood. She knew that he had been honest during his visit, but Draco (as he had just demonstrated) hated when people saw him at his most vulnerable. He mistook earnestness by weakness and did his best to compartmentalize and live under a shell of self-assurance and pride – that much was crystal clear to her. Therefore, it was much to her astonishment when he simply turned his head and reciprocated her gaze just as fiercely as she was watching him.
However, as Draco watched her, he could sense the questions boiling once again on his insides.
Though short-lived, that moment spoke directly to Hermione's heart and not even the half-heartedly sneer the pulled a minute later managed to shake away the fluttering feeling in her chest.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he stated as his resolution wavered once again.
"Don't worry, I can help your memory."
"I think we've spoken enough, Granger, you can go back to your spineless friends."
"You know very well what I'm talking about," she retorted with a soft voice, pulling her chair and staying closer than ever. Draco could sense a slight blush invading his pale complexion and a surge of embarrassment made him avert his eyes from her face when he noticed that he could count her freckles if he wanted to. "I remember everything. It started coming back when I saw the flowers. Your Mother's name is Narcissa, isn't it? So I'm not here just to return you this book or talk about the letter I sent you over the summer. I'm here to return the visit you paid me when I was in this same bed some months ago."
"You weren't supposed to remember that…"
"I forgive you."
Before he could reason with his brain that looking at her was a terrible idea, he saw himself staring at her amber eyes and contemplating the blaze of fierce determination beneath them.
"Sometimes I think I hate you too when you're mocking Harry and Ron or when you're acting like a spoiled brat like today. I hate it when you're a prejudiced, bigoted and mean kid. But I don't hate you. Not really."
They stayed in silence – eyes still locked – until Hermione interrupted it once again.
"I know that's how you were brought up and that you won't just break up with your beliefs at once. But I truly believe you're not so certain about them, at least not when it comes to who I am. I know you haven't left your prejudices aside, but you're questioning them and that's the first step. That's… that's important. That's important to me. And I wish we were friends too. So... just think about it, alright?"
"Alright," he mumbled with a curt nod, fidgeting with the hem of his blanket. "Thanks for the visit, Granger."
"Thank you too, Malfoy."
Hermione gave him a little smile as some warmth began spreading in her chest. She threw the Cloak of Invisibility over her figure and disappeared from sight, making the Hospital Wing feel instantly cold and empty. Draco stood still, facing the ceiling with a rare smile plastered across his face and a lingering feeling tingling his fingertips. And though millions of questions exploded inside his head, he found himself not caring at all about them.
A/N: so there you have it! Lots of Dramione interactions and hopefully you appreciated them as much as I did. You can probably see that things will go very slow – I mean, befriending someone you're supposed to hate is not an easy task, but they will get there! And yes, Hermione sent Draco a glass jar and the parchment contained the spell to produce her infamous bluebell flames. It's a very delicate and heartfelt gesture that once again shows her kindness because he implied eagerness upon seeing that spell back in Forbidden Forest.
Dramione101, thank you very much for your review. I can see what you said about Draco's thoughts and feelings being deeper and more complex than a thirteen-year old can describe and I really thought about that. I can see why I would need to tone it down just to make it more credible and I think part of having it described in such a complex way speaks directly to my Latin/Brazilian heritage, let's say. We tend to use lots of adjectives and metaphors when we write, speak, behave and that's very natural to us. I really appreciated your feedback, though, and definitely will take it into account just to make sure I understand how to fit in Draco's shoes. And I'm glad you liked the introduction of Narcissa and Andromeda! I really enjoy when fics cover that, so that's just my take. As for Draco's middle name… let's just say I wanted him not to have another layer of Lucius' influence, so I chose to go with another middle name.
Tre, you came very close to guessing Hermione's gift! And I'm glad you enjoyed Narcissa's backstory – I wanted to make her more relatable, stronger and not just a fragile and arrogant porcelain doll. And I appreciate how you enjoyed my sense of humor!
jzraael, don't worry! The ladybug is just a ladybug! I love them and would never make Rita Skeeter's Animagus form be such a delicate and lovely creature :) You're right – the gift was from Hermione and those could be her notes, but I chose something a bit different. Thanks once again for the review!
teddyandlilyforever and Don't Mind Me Just Reading, appreciate your reviews and hope you enjoy this chapter as well!