The battle had been over for two weeks now, the school lay in shambles, the Great Hall destroyed. Hermione had been coming back every day since, along with the majority of the surviving students, to help with the rebuilding. There was something unnerving about seeing this once great castle reduced to rubble.
The students would have a hogwarts to come back to come September, Hermione would make sure of it. All of the houses were represented there, she even spotted a few Slytherins among the mix of volunteers.
One of these Slytherins had taken her completely by surprise. The shock of white blonde hair and stormy grey eyes had sought her out every day that she was there. He would stare at her any time he saw her, and would always turn away whenever she had felt his eyes on her back. Always looking but never building the nerve to approach.
She always knew, though. It had went on like this for weeks until one day in mid August when she had had enough. He always seemed as though he wanted to say something but could never work up the courage. She decided she would corner him and make him tell her what he wanted from her.
The last she had seen of him he was working in the Great Hall but now that she looked for him, he was nowhere to be found. She left the hall, heading up the grand staircase in search of him. She had searched everywhere she could think to look, he was nowhere. Thankfully she had borrowed the Marauders Map from Harry so she'd be able to keep an eye on the many students and volunteers working within the castle. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found on the map either.
She wracked her brain for any places he could be, five minutes later it had hit her. Of course, she wacked herself in the forehead, he had to be in the room of requirement. The only room in the castle that didn't show up on the map. She ran up the stairs, up to the seventh floor.
Clutching at a stitch in her side, she stopped opposite the painting of the dancing trolls. Three times she passed by the blank wall thinking "I need to find Draco Malfoy." Finally a door had appeared, flinging it open she found herself reliving her nightmares. She was in the middle of the Malfoy's drawing room, Draco sat hugging his knees to his chest, silent tears streaming down his face, in the exact spot Hermione had been bleeding out. She felt a twitch in her left arm, right where the scarring spelled out 'mudblood'.
She approached him through the panicked thoughts in her head. They were telling her to turn and run, that she had to get away from this cursed place. While the more rational part of her brain was telling her it wasn't real, this was a copy of that room, and besides, Bellatrix was long dead. Looking around she found the it was an eerily perfect copy. His voice had startled her out of her thoughts.
"This is my punishment. I replay it over and over in my head. Your screams in my ears, your blood, blood that was supposed to be dirty, but was as red as mine, spilled over the marble floor. Bellatrix's insane laughter, my father's cowardly pleas to confirm your identity. I just couldn't do it, I couldn't, I had already caused the fall of Hogwarts and the death of Albus Dumbledore. I could not force the fall of the Golden Trio as well, the Death of the savior among all of the others blood on my hands. I'm so sorry, for everything you have had to go through at my hand. I realize it's a long list of things to apologize for, but dear Merlin, Hermione I am so sorry." the last word came out a choked sob.
Somewhere in the middle of his rant she had ended up on her knees in front of him her hands placed on his arms.
Before she could think, before she could talk herself out of it, she nudged herself between his knees and hugged him. Soft and comforting at first but slowly growing in desperation as their shared surprised dissipated. They clutched one another like a lifeline. Both of them looking for saving from their own turbulent ocean of thoughts.
Hermione reliving that night, trying to convince herself that the monster behind her nightmares was dead, that she had nothing to be afraid of anymore. Draco was mentally talking himself out of accepting this obvious show of comfort and forgiveness. He was scum. He didn't deserve this from one so pure. He would taint her too if he wasn't careful.
Something shifted in the few moments they held on to each other. There was an almost magnetic pull that cause hermione to sit up, let go, and then lean in to touch her lips to his tear stained ones. She had never imagined his lips that had spit such vile words, could be so soft and yielding. It went from soft and timid to desperate and almost painful in a matter of tongue, that had flung the blood purist shit of Lucius Malfoy, tasted like mint and sent shivers down her spine. There was a heat currently being stoked in her belly that she had trouble identifying. Least of all, she had barely begun to accept that it was Draco Malfoy coaxing these feelings from her.
Draco had a very hard time convincing himself that this was anything more than a dream. He had spent the better part of his life convincing himself that she was beneath him, no matter how much his heart argued that she was beautiful, smart, cunning, and wise beyond her years. She was not worth risking his family's pride. Mostly his father's. It was childish stupidity and now that he had come out on the other side of this useless blood war, it was quite clear who had been wrong. It was abundantly clear how stupid he had been and how much time he had wasted.
Hermione realized that she was falling for her childhood bully and all it had taken was his broken and half sobbed apology. She was massively screwed. There was no going back after this. How could she? His lips were divine. His mind was exquisite. Those hands! They felt like heaven as they ran up and down her spine. Yes, Hermione was well and truly screwed. Ron and Harry would surely kill her. However, that was a problem for another day.