The final year at Hogwarts is almost unbearable.
She stays in Australia with her parents until a few days before the start of term, leaving her with barely enough time to travel back, buy clothes and books, and head off to Hogwarts. Ron and Harry aren't coming, but Neville and Luna are there, as is Ginny. Apparently Neville had spent too much time leading the DA opposition to study for his NEWTs and he also says he's planning to become an Apprentice to Professor Sprout if she'll have him.
The bond is not quite fully formed, she can sense as much, but that kiss was almost enough to seal it. His emotions are there but still muted due to distance. At night when she's alone in her new single eighth-year dorm room she can sense him going about his day. He seems content, no longer tormented by pain and the horrors he has had to endure. Her own feelings for him keep growing, even in his absence. It seems to her they are more alike than not, despite the obvious differences. When they brewed together for the Infirmary or she was in his rooms for Occlumency lessons it was as if he fit around her, allowing her to let go of the persona she'd been wearing since first arriving in Gryffindor tower and become someone else, someone better.
No longer required to share a room in Gryffindor tower, her solitary sessions in the evenings become more elaborate. Her fantasies always circle around him, his hands and voice the way he responded to that kiss while in Australia. It had been perfect and if he hadn't fled she would have solidified the bond right then and there, in the hallway of her parents' house. Perhaps it was a good thing he left, but she still cannot understand why he keeps staying away. She suspects it is due to her status as his student and perhaps the age difference. She has no idea where he is or how to contact him, but he could easily send her an owl. It is aggravating, but there is nothing she can do about it. Chasing him wouldn't do any good.
She meets up with Harry and Ron in Hogsmeade a few times and Ron keeps asking her out. She turns him down. The adrenaline-fuelled kiss they'd shared after the Chamber of Secrets was a mistake, something borne from frustration and terror, not a relationship starter. Nothing like the almost-completed bond with her former Professor, nothing at all like the kiss that set her soul alight in Australia.
Classes are easy enough but Hermione finds the seventh-years to be annoying. The girls are shallow and the boys obnoxious. She no longer puts in the extra effort, her essays strictly the required length and her responses to test questions are precise and to the point rather than elaborating on whatever she has found in her research. She wasn't made Head Girl. The position went to a seventh-year Hufflepuff and she can't fault the Headmistress for it, not if she's to be honest with herself. The chosen Head Girl is a lot more approachable than Hermione would have been and is apparently working on setting up some kind of mental help network for those students that have bad memories of the war. A year ago not being chosen would have gutted her, but now Hermione finds herself grateful not to have the extra work, not having to care about everyone else's problems. At least she has her own room, all returning eighth-years do in what apparently used to be the Guest Wing.
Ginny and Luna show up occasionally, to study or just to chat. They talk a bit about their experiences during the war, with Luna as a sort of whimsical mediator who manages to upend their perceptions of their own and others' actions. It helps a lot to talk things through. Luna doesn't say anything about the bond she noticed, nor does Hermione, not with Ginny around.
Christmas comes around again. Hermione spends the holidays with her parents who are visiting from Australia for a few weeks. She has to rush to put the house back in order and reset the wards, but she manages just in time. Her parents have decided to stay in Australia for most of the year but say they would try to visit Britain regularly, and apparently their biggest issue with her memory charms was the name change which had been difficult to explain to their newfound friends. It's good to see them, anyway. She wonders what Snape is doing. It feels as if he's far away but she can't work out anything else.
She spends New Year's Eve at Grimmauld Place, with Harry and Ginny and Ron and several others from Hogwarts. It's festive and cheerful but she feels a bit like an outsider and can't help but to think of all those that are missing. Ron has his arm slung around Lavender's shoulders, a Muggle beer bottle in his other hand, and both of them are laughing at something Seamus is saying.
Luna slinks off Neville's lap and joins her in the kitchen.
"You're not happy," the younger witch says, matter-of-fact.
Hermione shrugs. "Who is? I'm alright."
Luna tilts her head to the side and looks at Hermione through her glass of champagne. "I think you need to find your own path, first. The rest will follow."
With Luna, Hermione has finally learnt to take what she says on face value. "And what about you?"
Luna shrugs and smiles, looking at the sparkling lights strung over the kitchen window. "Oh, I don't know. I do know it will be alright though. It isn't yet, but it will be."
Once the clock has struck midnight Hermione quietly heads for the bedroom she used to share with Ginny over the summers, thoroughly warding it. Ginny is spending the night in Harry's bed on a different floor so she has the room to herself. She's happy Ginny and Harry resolved their issues, they make a good couple, but it also makes her rather jealous if she's honest with herself. She flops down on the bed still clothed, kicking off her heels and heaves a sigh of relief when she can wiggle her toes again, the cushioning charms having worn off again.
She wonders if he is happy, wherever he is. Closing her eyes she tries to seek out the strand of emotions that still connects them. He feels… content, perhaps. Not quite happy, but not miserable. There are some other undertones to his emotions, though, could it be longing?
Her skirt has ridden up. She palms a breast with one hand and yanks off her underpants with the other. She's already wet, from thinking about him no doubt. Practice has made it a lot easier to find the right rhythm. Heat is pooling low in her belly and she wishes he would come in through the door, wards and all, and sit down on the bed next to her. He'd lean down sideways to kiss her, tell her to budge over and place a hand on her belly. She'd shuffle over to make room for him and pull him closer, a hand through his hair. He'd move his hand lower, murmuring So you've been waiting for me, have you Miss Granger and she'd nod mutely, unable to do anything else. She would kiss him again and groan into his mouth, her hips buckling as he makes contact with her wet core. He'd rub her just so and perhaps dip a long finger inside, keeping up the rhythm, and her hips would buck up to meet him again and she'd pull him down for another kiss and try to yank off his shirt at the same time and… Oh. She shatters, her own fingers feeling too small for the job but still pushing her over the edge.
As she comes down from her high she feels another kind of resonance through their bond, from what can only be his arousal and the bliss when he too comes.
Happy New Year, Severus, she thinks before stretching her arms above her head, feeling content.
~ x ~ xx ~ oo ~ xx ~ x ~
One thing she hasn't counted on was Malfoy — Malfoy! — asking her to accompany him to the Headmistress' saccharine sweet Valentine's feast. She had enlisted Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout together with the new Transfiguration teacher, Professor Dumont from Beauxbatons. The fearsome trio has transformed the Great Hall into a veritable orgy of pink, hearts and — for some reason — snowflakes that keep tangling in everyone's hair and not melting fast enough, leaving some sort of sticky residue over those that aren't good enough with Impervious charms.
Malfoy has kept his head down, too. He's quiet and studious and has taken to partnering with her in the classes they share. At first she found it odd but he's a good partner now that he's outgrown the childish Pure-blood posturing, and he says he wants to work to become a Healer. He even apologises, quite thoroughly. They team up on Prefect rounds, roaming the Castle and scaring the fourth-years who think themselves so clever with their hiding spots, and he accompanies her to Hogsmeade where they have a Butterbeer with Ginny, Luna and Neville.
Professor Flitwick has an enchanted string quartet playing what sounds like slightly off covers of old Muggle hits. Hermione finds it terribly confusing to hear old Elvis and Sinatra hits, barely recognisable without the singer yet too familiar to ignore. There is some sort of rather dubious and very pink punch, and the elves have prepared trays of finger food that appear and disappear at irregular intervals. Ginny has bullied her into wearing lilac dress robes with a layered skirt and double sleeves, lilac chiffon sleeves that cover her scar and dark purple trumpet sleeves that drape from her elbows. A dark purple band is cinched at her waist and the neckline is low enough for her to need a Glamour for the scar. Her hair is tamed with Sleekeazy's and put half-up half-down with one of her grandma's silver hair combs. She thought she looked rather nice when she and Ginny had finished in her dorm room earlier, but now she'd rather be anywhere but here.
Malfoy corners her under the mistletoe which she doesn't notice until it is too late. It's one of the Weasley brothers', she can tell by the orange tinge and the faint ringing it emits. They're standing by the wall, near the impromptu dance floor, looking at their classmates enjoying themselves.
"Granger…"
She shakes her head but he leans down anyway, slowly, capturing her lips with his. It's a very polite kiss as kisses go, unassuming. It also feels invasive, overwhelming and wrong, and as if it goes on for ages, but that is not Malfoy's fault. The Weasley brand of mistletoe apparently doesn't account for magical bonds; she should contact George and insist on an update.
She wrenches herself away when the mistletoe finally releases them. Bile rising in her throat, she only barely manages to not aim for Malfoy's toes, or those of Dennis Creevey who happens to be nearby, when she loses her dinner over the flagstone floor.
Malfoy is a gentleman, though. He Vanishes all evidence and produces a glass of water for her when she's finally done, and steers her to a secluded alcove away from the rest of them. She flicks up a Muffliato just in case, and a Notice-Me-Not.
"Sorry, it really isn't you, it's me."
He sighs in resignation, raking a hand through his platinum blond hair. "Was I that bad, really? How embarrassing. That looked almost like a bonded reaction? I thought you had broken it off with the Weasel."
Hermione shakes her head. "It's not him."
Malfoy quirks an eyebrow at her and it takes surprisingly little effort for him to get her to talk. She tells him of the first bond after the Department of Mysteries, and of her saving the Professor after the Battle.
The blond wizard sighs. "What a mess you caught yourself in. Only the two of you would ever come up with the idea of blood bonding with each other by accident. I don't know much about bonds of that nature but considering that you've now kissed him you're probably going to have a hard time getting rid of it. It would have faded otherwise, over time, but only if you want it to fade. Apparently you or him want to keep the bond. What do you see in him, anyway? He's old and a git. I should know, he's my godfather, but he's still a git."
Hermione glares at him, half-heartedly. It fits, with what she feels and with what she recalls from the texts she's read. "He's not that old, and well git goes without saying. Did I tell you about my parents?"
He shakes his head. She hasn't, but now she tells that story too. Draco winces at all the right places and takes a moment to stare at her when she's done.
"Merlin, Granger. The bond might have been why he happened to be in the right place but he's definitely committing to you. That's a pretty serious crime, you know. Messing with Muggles like that. Glad it worked, anyway. It work, did it?"
Hermione nods. "We spent Christmas together. I'm glad to have them back."
"Sorry about kissing you, Granger. I wouldn't have minded… but that bond, no way I can compete with that. Hope you get to be happy, both of you."
She smiles at him, feeling a bit misty-eyed all of a sudden. "Thanks. Draco. You're a good friend, you know that? Glad I could tell you, I haven't talked to anyone else."
The Headmistress claps her hands and asks for the prefects and Head Boy and Girl to join them for a dance. It feels natural to slip into Draco's arms, to let him take the lead in a Wizarding waltz, and her heart is lighter than in a long time.
~ x ~ xx ~ oo ~ xx ~ x ~
The rest of the year is easier to stomach. Draco acts like a decoy and a shield, and the two of them get along better than either had expected. Most of the Castle seems to think they're dating, and neither of them does anything to stop the rumours. It seems easier that way, to get the others to leave them alone. She drags him along to meet with Harry and Ron at the Three Broomsticks, and although the boys do stare at them a bit wide-eyed they are surprisingly civil once Draco apologises for being a Pure-blood git over the years.
She keeps missing him, though. She tries to work through it, to tell herself to stop being silly, to let go of the crush, but nothing is helping. He doesn't suddenly arrive on her doorstep, doesn't even send her an owl, and the bond is faint with only occasional bursts of emotions telling her he's still alive.