A/N: Infinite amounts of beta love to AlmondMilkTeaDoubleBoba, LeilahMoon, and lost_poetx.
xoxo, carm
Sitting in the warm, nearly empty Gryffindor common room, Hermione found herself staring at a blank piece of parchment. Her quill was tapping restlessly against the side of the desk, and she was chasing her mind around in circles.
Coming up with honest, legitimate qualities that she liked about Malfoy – that weren't incredibly superficial or halfhearted – was harder than she'd ever anticipated. If she'd known, she probably would have refused the bloody bet in the first place.
Finally deciding to give up for the time being, she tossed her useless quill across the table, shoved her head into her hands, and sighed. Loudly.
How on earth was she ever supposed to do this? Curse her utter inability to back down from a challenge. Judging by the way he'd looked at her when he'd issued it, he had bloody well known that she would accept his bait with fervor and indignance.
She hated that he knew that about her. It gave him ammunition to use against her. Hermione wondered if he would do it again – he'd already done it once, what was to stop him from exploiting her diehard Gryffindor nature a second time?
Ginny slid quietly into the seat next to her, interrupting Hermione's inner turmoil with an easy, "What's up?"
Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin at the surprise. "Merlin, Ginny, you scared me," she said breathlessly, with a hand pressed up against her heart.
"Sorry," she said with a chuckle. "But really, what's going on? I haven't seen you look this stressed out since you were forcing Harry and Ron to proofread their Potions essays," she said, rolling her eyes.
Huffing out a reluctant sigh, Hermione caved. "Malfoy and I made this... bet."
Red eyebrows shot up. "Oh? What about?"
Hermione knew that tone – Ginny sounded hesitant, yet entirely intrigued. It was a tone she hadn't heard in eons – since Hermione had told her that she'd lost her virginity to Viktor and not Ron, like everyone had thought.
She still couldn't believe that she'd never told Ginny about that when it'd happened. It hadn't even come up until after the war when they were trying to find normal topics of conversation that didn't revolve around sadness, tragedy, or loss. Hermione had been grasping at straws, trying to think of something about her that Ginny didn't already know that would lighten their conversation or alleviate the awkwardness of learning how to talk to each other again.
For whatever reason, that had been the first thing to come to mind, and she still recalled Ginny's shocked expression with near-perfect clarity.
"It's... pointless. He wants me to do chores with magic – don't fight me, I like doing them the Muggle way, you know that – and I don't. So, he came up with this – idea that we have to make a list of seven genuinely nice things about the other," she said.
Looking thoughtful, Ginny replied, "And what do you get if you win?"
"If he wins, I'll do chores with magic for the rest of the year," she humphed. "But if I win," her eyes glittered, "I get unlimited access to his library."
"Of course that's what you picked," Ginny snickered.
"Hey, the Malfoy library is widely renowned for how extensive and large it is," she retorted.
"Yeah, yeah. Hey, makes me wonder what else is large and extensive," Ginny waggled her eyebrows.
"Ginny!" Hermione chastised. "Stop it with that nonsense. This is nothing like that."
"Yes! It's really not like that at all. Just... a friendly wager. Friendly competition, you know," she insisted. A heavy breath left her. "I just have no idea how to go about putting together a list. A genuine list of things that are good about him. Malfoy! I don't even know if it's possible."
Going silent, she watched as Ginny donned her thinking face. "Hm," she hummed. "How long do you have to come up with said list?" she asked.
"We said a month."
"Ah, plenty of time." Ginny shot Hermione her most devious smirk, the one she'd learned directly from the twins.
Back when George still wore that look.
"For what?" Hermione asked warily. "I don't like the look you have on right now."
"As you shouldn't," Ginny quipped. "Anyway, I have the perfect little plan forming, and you're going to love it."
"I have a feeling I won't, but let's hear it anyway," Hermione acquiesced.
Ginny rolled her eyes, laughing. "You never want to hear my ideas, but you always like them," she teased.
"I refuse to confirm nor deny that statement," Hermione said.
"That means it's a yes, and I know it," Ginny replied, throwing the girls into a short fit of giggles.
Collecting herself, Ginny piped up again. "Here's what you're going to do – you don't know much about him, yeah? I mean, of course, you wouldn't. He's had the same personality his entire life and I doubt he knows what he's like without it. So: here's what we do." Ginny steepled her hands, her face growing intensely thoughtful.
"You're going to mess with him. Nothing too intense, of course, but enough to throw him off, have him show his true colors. Do you know what I mean?"
"No," Hermione replied, her hands subconsciously balling into nervous fists. "I have no idea what you're getting at."
"Okay, what you do is you flirt with him, let him get you into compromised positions and vice versa. Again, nothing too crazy – just things like you reaching over him to grab something, little things like that," she paused for thought and continued.
"Part of me wants to see how he'd react to you... flirting with him, for lack of a better word. Not because you're a Muggle-born, but because you're Hermione Granger. If he's actually considering himself reformed, then this should give you some insight into how much."
Hermione stared, open-mouthed at the person she considered to be one of her best friends. Reaching up to feel Ginny's forehead, she pulled her hand away, ignoring the half-moons indented into her skin. "Hm, no fever," she said, brows furrowed. "Maybe I should check you for Polyjuice. Because I have no idea what the fuck is going through your head right now."
Ginny rolled her eyes – if she kept doing that, they were well on their way to popping out of her head. "Come on, you have to admit it's a good idea."
"No, I don't," Hermione retorted. "Where is this coming from?"
"I think it's just interesting."
"Well I don't!" She threw her hands up in exasperation.
"Somehow you're doing a terrible job of convincing me of this!" came Ginny's response.
"I'm not supposed to convince you of anything! I'm just not – not interested."
"Yeah, you've done it, you've convinced me," Ginny said, leaning back.
"Really?"
"No!"
Hermione huffed in frustration and crossed her arms over her chest.
Ginny sighed. "Aren't you at least a little curious to figure out what goes on in that giant head of his?" she asked. "Think of it as an experiment, if nothing else."
"That's just wrong, Ginny."
"You're going to tell me you have no interest in this? Zero," she asked, raising a brow and poking her tongue into her cheek.
Hermione hesitated – because, deep down, she did. "Well–"
"That's what I thought," Ginny cut her off, looking far too triumphant before her expression softened. "Just... go with it," she sighed.
They sat in silence for a moment before Ginny spoke up again, offering an uncharacteristically wise piece of advice. "Why don't you think about it this way," she started. "Did you ever think about the fact that you can't see the good in him because you've never given him the opportunity to be good to you?"
Now that was a thought Hermione had never considered.
Hermione didn't look up from her notes when she noticed Malfoy sit down across from her. They had recently started to spend more time together, which had been nice, but they were still learning how to talk to each other without it descending into a screaming match.
It was challenging, to say the least.
It was also supremely satisfying to watch their... friendship – for lack of a better term – progress. It made her wonder if things could have been different if they'd just tried this from the jump. But the answer, she knew, was no. They were all too childish – and him, prejudiced – to have ever tried to make room for a conversation back then.
Oh well, she figured. Better late than never.
She continued on with what she was doing, knowing that if he wanted to speak with her, he would.
They sat in companionable silence for a while – her writing, him drinking. She had no idea when he'd conjured the Firewhisky, but she supposed she wasn't surprised.
After some time, she shut her book and just stared at him. There was a question nagging her, had been for ages.
"What's going on in that massive brain of yours, Granger?" he drawled. When she snapped back to the present, she found his eyes boring into her own.
The words leapt out of her unbidden. "Why did you do it?"
His mouth pressed into a hard line upon hearing her words. The air was tense, the silence charged. It was minutes before he spoke, and when he did, Hermione could barely hear it over the blood roaring in her ears.
"I assume you mean this." He nodded in the direction of his left forearm.
Hermione nodded, curls bobbing with the movement.
"Why does anyone do anything these days, Granger?" he asked, posing the question over a sip of amber liquid. "Fame? Power? Glory?" he started. "Or to protect the people they love?" He took another deep pull. "Suppose it could be all of the above, couldn't it?"
"I suppose it could," she agreed. "But what was your motive?"
"Technically speaking, it was all of the above." He paused for thought. "At first, it was the fame, the power, the glory. It would have been mine. I was a stupid kid who thought he knew better, and as we all know from our childhood, it was all I wanted. Even though I'm a Malfoy, I still wanted the best of the best. And at the time, it seemed like the best option."
Hermione watched as his pointer finger slowly traced the rim of his glass.
"But as time went on and Potter kept winning, it became more of a bid to stay alive. To keep my family alive. You know how it is." His lips pursed again. "Well, I suppose you don't," he chuckled darkly.
"Part of me does," she disagreed. "I know what it's like to do anything to keep your loved ones safe. I followed Harry around for years, reading everything I could and absorbing all of it to make sure that there wasn't something I would miss." She silently conjured her bag from her room and pulled out a pre-rolled blunt.
Sparking it and taking a deep inhale, she said, "At the end of the day, most of our plans went to shit anyway. Even Gringotts was all played by ear."
Malfoy had the decency to look impressed.
"Not to mention, I Obliviated my parents. Do you know how hard it was to point my wand at them? To erase everything they knew of me? I still haven't figured out how to get their memories back yet." Another inhale. "So I know a little something about protecting the people I love," she said scathingly.
More stony silence. "You're right," he said.
He drank more Firewhisky, she inhaled more smoke. Her head tipped back and she blew the smoke up towards the ceiling.
"It was because of my father." His voice was quiet, yet filled with conviction. He was avoiding her eyes. "I watched as the Mark destroyed him from the inside out. I watched as being a slave to... Voldemort," she didn't miss that he still struggled to say the name, "ruined him. Tore his life apart. His relationship with my mother was never the same because of it."
A pause. A drink. An inhale.
"I took the Mark in order to take some of the heat off him. I saw what it was doing to him, I wanted to help. I didn't know what I was getting myself into with it." He paused again. "But if I had, I'd still do it again. I have no idea how much it wound up helping in the end, but I'd do it for him. For them."
The silence was thick. Tense. Full of unanswered questions and assumptions that were dying in midair.
"I'm sorry for the part I played, Granger. I think you know that, or you wouldn't have spoken for me. But I love my family, and I would do – would have done – anything to protect them."
Hermione spoke up. "You idolized him. You always have. I don't remember a sentence you said to me that didn't have you saying that your father would hear about this. I can't say I will ever be able to comprehend your decisions, but I understand. I would have done the same for mine."
Malfoy nodded. "I don't expect you to ever really get over it, or comprehend it. It's an impossible situation if you haven't been there." He shook his head, hair falling loosely into his eyes. "It's something I hope I don't ever have to experience again."
"For all of our sakes, I hope you don't either," she said and watched as the corner of his mouth quirked slightly.
She smiled in response, and before she knew she was giggling uncontrollably at the absurdity of the situation. "I'm sorry–" she said, wiping at her eyes. "It's not funny, I just don't know how to respond anymore."
He tipped his glass back, draining the rest of his Firewhisky. "It's fine, Granger. I can hardly fault you for that, yeah?"
"No, I don't suppose you can," she mused. "Thank you for telling me that. It means a lot," she said, and he nodded once, solemnly, in response. Hermione stood, stretching, and collecting her things to head to her room. As she was walking out, he called her name.
"Granger?" he piped up, and she turned. He hesitated. "You did the right thing. Obliviating them. I hope you're able to fix it."
She met his eyes again, searching them. Looking for something, anything that would indicate his sincerity. "Me too, Malfoy. Me too."
Hermione went to bed feeling lighter than she had in ages.
This was the last thing he wanted to be doing. Draco had never been good at asking for help, and asking Theo for help was completely out of the question.
However.
He found himself sitting down next to his friend in the library. Theo looked up at him, and it was as if he'd been expected. "Hey mate. What's up?" he asked, turning back to his essay, waiting.
"I... need a favor," he started hesitantly. "Granger and I have something of a bet, and I'm not sure how to go about starting it off." Draco sighed.
Theo smirked. "Of course I know all about it. I was waiting to see how long it would take for you to seek me out," he said
Draco's eyebrows shot up. "You know?" he asked.
Scoffing, Theo replied, "Of course I do. Granger tells me everything." He chuckled. "I'm honestly surprised you didn't come find me sooner." He relaxed, leaning forward and propping his chin into his hand. "So, seven things, right? And they have to be genuine," he shot a pointed look at Draco.
Defiantly crossing his arms across his chest, he muttered, "I can be nice when I want to be."
Tipping his head back, Theo let out a laugh. "Yeah, okay. I'll believe it when I see it, Malfoy." He cleared away his essay and conjured a new piece of parchment. "Okay, so," he started, "seven nice things. What do you have so far?"
"Uh," he stumbled, "smart, nice, nice... hair," he trailed off.
Theo laughed again. "Oh my gods, that is so pathetically lame, Malfoy. I know you can do better than that. Did you even try?"
Thinking, he admitted, "Not really."
Rolling his eyes, Theo said, "Well tell me something I don't know. That's obvious." He snorted ungracefully. "You just have to pretend like... you're trying to woo her or something. That, my friend, is when you do your best work."
Draco's stomach twisted uncomfortably. "Do you think that would help?" he asked uncertainly.
"Without a doubt," Theo said. "I've seen you in action – you're unstoppable. When you're actually trying to compliment someone, you can." He cocked a brow. "Wanna try again?"
Sighing and rubbing at his temples, he closed his eyes. "I don't know," he admitted. "I'm really not good at this. And – and it's Granger for fuck sake." He groaned. "I don't know why I ever thought this was a good idea."
"Hey," Theo said, his tone just a touch softer than normal. "This will be a good thing. If nothing else, you'll have something to joke about if this goes south," he said. "But I doubt it will. And best-case scenario, maybe you'll get a very nice thank you, if you catch my drift." Losing all sincerity, he waggled his eyebrows, and Draco went red.
"Nott," he stressed. "Come on. Be serious for a second," he pleaded, eyes wide.
Theo huffed. "Fine. But you owe me," he shot Draco a pointed look.
"Done," he immediately agreed.
Theo's eyes glinted. "You're going to regret agreeing to that," he smirked.
"Yeah, yeah," Draco waved his hand, "I suppose I will. Let's get to the point." He crumpled up his parchment and pulled out a fresh one. "Okay," he started. "So you think I should go about this like I'm trying to woo her? Do you think that will work?" Draco was uncomfortable with how close to the truth Theo really was, so he played it off as apprehension.
Rolling his eyes, Theo drawled, "Obviously. Look, you can be the king of seduction when you want to be. I don't know why you think it's so hard."
Throwing his quill down, he snapped, "Because it is!" He sighed, taking a breath. "Granger and I... we've just started getting along. I think I just convinced her to stop hating my guts – if she ever did in the first place. She's so fucking selfless that I'm starting to doubt that she ever really did."
Draco brought his hand up to his face and dragged it down the length of it. "I feel like if this gets too personal or heavy it'll... I don't know, fuck things up." He sighed again, leaning back in his chair as all of the fight left him. "She just agreed to try to talk things out, Theo. I'm really not keen on going back to the way things were."
Staring at him silently, Theo looked uncharacteristically thoughtful. Suddenly, his face changed and a shit-eating grin creeped across his face. "Draco Malfoy," he said slowly. "Have you been Polyjuiced?"
Against his better judgement, a smile cracked across Draco's face. "Hilarious, Nott. So funny."
"I do try," he teased, reaching around and patting his own back before his face turned more sincere. "But seriously, I really think this will be a good thing. Just don't overthink it, yeah?"
"Now if only that were easier said than done," he snarked, "I'd be all set."
"Anything that's easier said than done is always something worth doing, Draco," Theo said. "Just keep that in mind."
Draco stared. "Since when are you so uncharacteristically profound?"
"Since I started hanging around Granger. You should try it sometime. She might actually make you smarter," Theo responded.
"Shut up," Draco said.
"Make me," came Theo's response.
The two stared at each other, realizing the implication of their challenge. Both of them burst out laughing, only stopping when Madam Pince poked her head around the corner and hissed at them to quiet down.
Laughter descended into snickers and all felt right. At least for the time being.
The telltale sound of owls at breakfast alerted Hermione to the post arriving the next morning. Titters arose as everyone eagerly anticipated the next 'Spill the Tea' drama. She rolled her eyes, tossing her letter to the side, and decided to deal with it later.
Ginny, however, ripped right into hers. Her eyes went wide, and she started to fidget with her hair nervously. "Uh, Hermione," she said, "you may want to take a look at this." She held up her parchment, and Hermione reached for hers on instinct.
Ripping open the envelope she started to read.
Dearest readers,
My my, the tea is positively scalding today. I think this tidbit in particular will catch a lot of attention.
Unfortunately for... well, everyone, it turns out you do catch more flies with honey. Honey, in our case, is equivalent to being a War Hero.
Our lovely Ronald Weasley is nothing more than a run-of-the-mill cheater.
The number one couple of the wizarding world, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, has suffered from some infidelity. Do we think that's why they are no longer an item? We can only speculate.
Now I'm sure you're wondering – who did our dear Ronald consider to be more of a catch than our Golden Girl?
Why I'm oh so glad you asked. It's none other than our very own Romilda Vane. Now the question to pose is: did she know our dear Ronald was in a committed relationship?
Silly me, of course she did. Everyone knew.
As always, you know I had to...
Spill the Tea.
Veritas
As a reflex, the letter crumpled in her hand. Her face was bright red as a result of the anger thundering through her veins, and as she turned to face Romilda Vane, she already noticed that the dark-haired girl was fleeing from the room. Quickly.
Nobody ever wanted to be on the receiving end of Hermione Granger's wrath – Harry and Ron could attest to that. As could anyone who'd ever crossed her.
She fought to keep from following her out of the crowded lunchroom. The worst part was that she'd already known everything Veritas had said, and that meant she knew it to be true.
They'd already had this discussion back when they broke up. Of course he'd cheated and of course she'd caught him. Hermione was anything but oblivious and she'd picked up on it fairly early. There had been a blowout argument and then a semi-amicable split where they hoped to salvage the remains of their relationship that would never be the same.
What she hadn't needed was for her – their – dirty laundry to be aired all across Hogwarts.
Fighting back the surprising mix of anger and shock, she fired an Incendio at her Spill the Tea before vanishing it entirely. It was humiliating and not something she'd wished to be public knowledge.
And it didn't even help her narrow down her list of who Veritas could be. An infuriating number of people knew about this little event, and in her opinion, anyone outside of the two of them was far too many.
"Hermione–" Ginny started, but Hermione was already on her way out of the Great Hall.
Theo caught her eye and shot her a concerned look and started to stand as she practically ran from the room. Hermione just shook her head once and continued walking, having only one destination in mind.
Storming up to her common room and vehemently avoiding all of the prodding eyes and barely hidden whispers, she met no eyes and only briefly considered casting a Disillusionment Charm on herself.
Spitting the password and slamming the portrait open, she was immediately greeted by the sight of Malfoy – who she'd startled – sitting on the sofa. "Have you seen this?" she seethed, conjuring Ginny's pamphlet from downstairs.
She would apologize to Ginny later. Right now, she needed to make Draco aware of the situation at hand. "Read it," she said, thrusting it at him.
He caught it easily and she watched the emotions flit across his face. Surprise, disgust, a hint of shock? "What is this?" he asked.
Scoffing with a roll of her eyes, "Isn't it obvious?" Hermione gesticulated widely, blowing a loose curl out of her face. "This is – slander. We need to get to the bottom of this."
She knew she was being dramatic, and she knew that there was more truth to that statement than she cared to admit. Whatever the case, her brain was working so fast that words were flying out of her mouth without stopping to think.
Hermione started pacing, curls frizzing out. "Obviously I already knew this and clearly I can handle it, but I don't want anyone else to get hurt." She ran a hand through her hair, and the only sound in the room was her footsteps and haphazard breathing.
"Granger," he said, standing up. He walked toward her, capturing her wrists and bringing her body to a standstill. "Calm down." He waited until her body slumped, the tension leaving it as best it could. She was almost incapable of calming down, especially when she was all fiery like this. Once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor. "Hey," he said with force. "It'll be fine. We'll look into it."
After sitting down and rubbing at her temples, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. "No. We're not going to just look into it," she said, and her voice was filled with determination and conviction. Her eyes were blazing and determined.
"We're going to figure out who it is."