Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. Nor do I earn anything from writing this. I merely use Ms. Rowling's characters to have some fun of my own.


Forgive and Forget


Summary: Draco and Hermione bump into each other, but soon those meetings aren't so coincidental anymore. But don't they have better things to do than talk to each other?


The Fifteenth of December - Draco


Draco was smiling on the outside, but on the inside he was probably feeling even more nervous than Hermione. She had to worry about Ron, sure, but Draco had to worry about whole Slytherin besides Blaise, who was the only person he knew to be completely supportive.

Maybe the ones from neutral families would be good, but the dark ones…they'd become a huge problem if they reported to their parents — the remaining ones, anyway — about Draco dating Hermione Granger, a muggle born, who stood on the other side of the war.

He just knew that with most of them, it wouldn't go over well.

Now they were standing in front of the Transfiguration classroom and held each other's hands as they both took deep breaths to steady their breathing and at least somewhat calm their nerves.

Then Draco knocked.

"Come in!", Professor McGonagall called from inside as he opened the door as she went inside, still holding Hermione's hand.

His and Hermione's faces were burning as they looked at the class staring at them in shock.

Then, Harry, Ginny and Blaise started a slow clap that became louder as more people from all houses joined them — there were just so few people left, they were able to combine all four houses from Hermione's and Ginny's years.

But then a redhead stood up with a furious expression. "You and Malfoy, Hermione?"

Hermione's face was burning, but she still smiled at her friend. "Yes, Ronald, Draco and I."

Ron turned to Draco. "And you, Malfoy! What kind of Love Potion did you slip her?! I'll kill you, you Death Eater!"

The whole class gasped at that wording. Susan Bones stood up. "Shut up, Ron! He's not a Death Eater! He got off, don't you remember? The trial, he said he only got the mark to protect his mother! Under Veritaserum! He said he'd never have wanted that if his family hadn't been in danger!"

Ron's face turned red. "Aha! He has the mark! Everyone who has the mark is a Death Eater! And I don't give two shits about the trial! Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater!"

Hermione was looking down at the floor, tears threatening to fall as Ron continued. "Besides, she loves me! She loves me and now Malfoy comes along and drugs her to love him!" He turns to McGonagall, opening his mouth to talk, when a brunette Slytherin stood up.

"Just shut up, Weasley! Don't you see what you're doing to Granger?! Besides, Draco can't even brew Love Potions! Daphne told me that he got a D in that assignment! He couldn't have slipped her any kind of love potions without killing her!"

"That's enough, Miss Greengrass!", McGonagall interrupted now. "You are completely right. Five points to Slytherin for that. Mr. Weasley, 20 from Gryffindor for such accusations!" She finally turned to Hermione and Draco. "And now to you. "Five points from Slytherin and Gryffindor for coming in late. Sit down."

They let go of each other's hands as they walked to their seats next to Harry and Blaise respectively.

"So", Harry whispered. "Do I have to threaten someone?" He grinned but Hermione didn't return it as she looked at him.

"Yes. Please threaten Ronald from me that if he doesn't shut up about the nonsense he's spouting, I'm gonna castrate him."


Word Count: 557

AN: Yes, I managed to update a little earlier than yesterday!

Hehe, Ron Bashing begins! If you don't like it, don't insult me, but I don't like Ron, so yeah...and besides, it's just an opinion. And he IS hot-headed, so...

Thanks for reading this, anyway.

Love, Sarah💚

QOTD: What're you having for Christmas dinner?

My answer: We're having 'Pavo Trufado de Navidad`, which is a Spanish Christmas dinner I found while searching for Spanish Christmas dinner. It's basically just a Christmas Turkey with truffles.