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"Crucio!"
The psychotic shrill of Bellatrix's voice was one that Hermione would not soon forget. Dirt and sweat caked her face and a trickle of blood ran down from her temple; they were the telltale signs of war and death.
"Granger, MOVE!"
Hermione remembered snapping her gaze to Draco Malfoy lunging to get between her and the magic that spawned from the tip of Bellatrix's wand. Before Hermione could realize what was happening, she was already pushed out of the way. In her stead, Draco took the brunt of the curse.
"Oh, dear nephew." Bellatrix cooed. "You want to die in place of this disgusting mudblood? Fine… as your aunt, I'll consider it my duty to grant you your wish."
Hermione recalled screaming as she tried to make her way to Draco. "What are you doing?! He's your family!"
Bellatrix sneered, pure hatred and malice painting her expression. "Do not lecture me on family, mudblood."
Hermione tried to make a move but was stopped by a warm hand on her shoulder. It was Narcissa Malfoy, and by the look on her face Hermione knew that the matron of the Malfoy clan was not going to let her sister go easily.
"I have this, Hermione." Narcissa nodded at the young Gryffindor. She then turned her gaze to Bellatrix.
"Let him go, Bellatrix."
Bellatrix smirked. "Or what, sister?"
"Flipendo!"
Hermione hadn't anticipated running into Draco Malfoy so soon, but there she was standing face to face with the very man that had occupied her mind for the entire summer. Donned in faded acid wash jeans and a Slytherin green polo, he looked like the epitome of a confident and probably (most-definitely) egotistical Slytherin.
Was he always so… tall? Hermione couldn't remember if she had to tilt her head back to meet his face in the past. At that very moment, though, she had to guess that he was several inches taller than her.
Why is it that I can't remember what he looked like last year? She was scouring her brain but for some reason she was at a loss. It was as if the Draco Malfoy standing before her was the only iteration that ever existed. Snotty and over-entitled baby Malfoy somehow vanished from Hermione's hippocampus.
"You look like you've seen better days."
His low drawl snapped her out of her reverie.
Hermione exhaled softly and offered her explanation: "The Knight Bus is absolutely horrid." She felt awkward. Talking about the Knight Bus, in Hermione's opinion, was akin to talking about the weather in the Muggleverse.
Why am I nervous?! I've known Malfoy for eight years and punched him in our third. Hermione needed to snap out of it before she stuck a foot in her mouth. She had zero reason to be as nervous as she was.
Draco nodded, his stormy grey eyes never leaving Hermione's face. "I've heard stories, though I haven't experienced it myself."
Does he feel as awkward as I do? For all the academic knowledge Hermione had, her mind was at a loss of how to handle her current situation. I should find an opening to call it a night. I'm too tired to conversate and I honestly think my exhaustion is making me delirious.
"Too common for your Malfoy lineage, you mean?" Hermione found herself teasing. She hoped it would ease the awkwardness and allow her the chance to squeeze past him and into her room. Draco grinned at her jibe. The act alone somehow lit up his whole face and the awkward feeling exponentially increased.
"Pretty much." Draco paused and studied Hermione for three painfully long seconds (she counted one potato, two potato, three potato in her head). He cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms.
"You look like you're going keel over any second now, Granger. Let's chat tomorrow?"
Hermione nodded, taking the way out that she was desperately searching for. "That's a grand idea…" As she moved to walk past him, he sidestepped to block her path. Surprised, and mildly irritated, Hermione looked up at him and didn't bother to hide her annoyance.
"Yes?"
"Shall we get breakfast in the morning?"
Her heart thundered in her chest. Breakfast…? Though she had been communicating with Draco all summer, she was not at all prepared to spend time… alone… with him. What else was I expecting to happen? A group rendezvous with houses Gryffindor and Slytherin? Get your act together, Jeanie. Hermione's internal monologue somehow restricted her voice from working, so she ended up nodding at Draco to answer his question.
"Grand." Draco nodded, his lip tugging into a small smirk. "Since we're on the fourth floor, can I safely assume your room is on this floor?"
Throat tight, Hermione simply nodded before squeezing out her room number: four-oh-two.
"Have a goodnight, Granger." Draco tipped his head and brushed past her. She glanced over her shoulder to see that he had shoved his hands into his pockets and languidly descended the stairs. Hermione didn't realize she was holding her breath until the very moment she exhaled…
Oh my Merlin…
Crookshanks slept curled next to Hermione, but she was wide awake. All of the exhaustion she felt earlier was gone. Instead, she found herself staring at the aged ceiling and replaying the conversation with Draco in her head.
Over… and over… and over… and over again in her head.
Shall we get breakfast in the morning?
Shall we get breakfast?
We get breakfast?
We…
"Why was I tongue-tied?" Hermione murmured, feeling embarrassed and angry at herself for not being able to form coherent thought or sentences. She chalked it up to being a) tired from the life-threatening bus ride and b) seeing him unexpectedly.
"Who am I kidding…" Hermione whispered. Crookshanks' ear twitched when Hermione moved to get off of the bed, but stayed otherwise asleep. As quietly as she could manage, Hermione tiptoed to the balcony and stepped outside.
Those are just excuses. Hermione was smart enough to call herself out on her own bullshit. To some degree, yes, she hadn't anticipated to bump into Draco so soon into her arrival at Diagon Alley, but her whole academic career was built on the foundation of surprise. Simply being caught off-guard wasn't enough to shake her up…
It was him.
It was Draco Malfoy. The man, himself…
Closing her eyes, Hermione found her subconsciousness falling through time and space and into a world that only existed in her memories:
As Bellatrix and Narcissa locked into battle, Hermione crawled towards Draco's limp body. Tears were streaming down her cheeks—she was afraid, deathly afraid, of whether or not Draco lived.
"Malfoy?" Hermione whispered urgently. She cradled his head in her lap and, with a gesture so natural, pushed his dirty hair off of his forehead.
"Oh Merlin… Draco, wake up…" Hermione shook him gently to try and wake him from unconsciousness. In the background a ferocious battle waged between two sisters but Hermione paid it no heed. Her primary and only concern was to ensure that Draco Malfoy was alive.
"Come on!" She whispered while checking to see if he had a pulse. She pressed her forefinger and middle finger against the point on his neck where his pule would be, hoping to feel any semblance of a rhythm. Relief coursed through her veins when she felt what she was looking for.
There was a pulse… albeit faint.
"Why did you do it…" Hermione ask to no one in particular, her fingers mindlessly combing through his messy hair. Needless to say, she was surprised when she heard Draco's raspy voice.
"Why not?"
Hermione barely finished buttoning up her jeans when a knock sounded at her inn door. She didn't need to call out to identify who was on the other side of the door. She already knew; Draco Malfoy. She hastily grabbed her thigh holster and wand while simultaneously yelling out a strained: Coming!
She didn't know whether Draco replied or not, but Hermione didn't want to dwell on that for any longer than she had to. She was already late getting ready—mainly because she stayed out on the balcony for longer than she needed to, thus not getting enough sleep to feel remotely rested. She checked herself in the mirror one final time –untameable hair? Check! – before petting Crookshanks' head affectionately and leaving the comfort of her room.
As anticipated, it was Draco Malfoy that stood on the other side. Unlike the previous night, Draco donned casual khakis and a navy-blue polo shirt. His ensemble came together with a stark chestnut brown belt wrapped snugly around his hips.
"Mornin', Granger." His drawl sounded nearly musical.
Hermione gave him a half smile. "Good morning. You're punctual."
"Is that a question or a statement?"
Hermione didn't anticipate early morning witty banter. She hadn't had her appropriate dosage of caffeine yet and she knew she was going to start stumbling over her tongue.
"Statement."
"Ahh." Draco nodded, as if he understood some deeper meaning in her one-word answer. "Shall we?" He gestured towards the stairs. Hermione didn't move right away. A question was nagging her and she needed to ask it before the two started their day.
"We're going for breakfast together… in public?"
"I presumed that was the assumption." Hermione bit her lower lip. Seeing her hesitation, Draco cocked an eyebrow, "Why? Is there an issue, Granger?"
"I mean… you're you and I'm me… won't people…"
Hermione was caught off-guard when Draco started laughing. It wasn't a laugh that felt like was at her expense, but rather a mirthful laugh that sounded like it came from a place of genuine amusement.
"Granger, how did you expect for us to spend some time together without anybody seeing?" His question, though legitimate, felt sarcastic. Hermione narrowed her eyes in retaliation.
"Forgive me for being cautious… we don't exactly have the greatest history."
"Doesn't take away from the fact that you, quite obviously, did not plan this trip very well." Draco took a step back and rested his elbow on the ball post of the staircase. "How did you expect the next few days to go?"
He had a point; Hermione hadn't thought the logistics through. She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "I haven't thought it through, obviously." Hermione tipped her head towards the staircase. "So, are we going for breakfast or not? I'm in need of some tea."
He met her statement with his signature Malfoy smirk.
As Hermione predicted, the pair of them certainly drew attention. They were on their way to Rosa Lee Teabag, a small teashop that had a storefront in both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, yet Hermione couldn't help but notice how many eyes followed them and quiet whispers echoed in their wake.
"Quit giving them the satisfaction of caring, Granger."
Hermione looked over at him. "Aren't you the least bit affected?"
Draco shook his head. "Not at all. People have been talking rubbish about me and my family for decades." He cut left, navigating through an alley between two shops that served as a shortcut to the teashop. "I've grown accustomed to it." He glanced over at her.
"I would've thought that the extra attention wouldn't bother you, given that you are one-third of Potter's gaggle."
Hermione chose to ignore the gaggle quip. "Normally it wouldn't." She mumbled. "But normally the unwanted attention would've been the result of us breaking a rule… or law… or a combination of both."
Draco smirked. "Ahh, understood. Fair enough, Granger."
It was a pleasant surprise when he dropped the topic and Hermione thanked him internally. He must've sensed that she was uncomfortable and, instead of being a prick, he did what was in her best interest.
It wasn't so much the unwanted attention that bothered her than it was the fact that her friends, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, not knowing of her budding 'friendship' (Can I even call it that? She found herself often questioning) with Draco. While the boys knew Draco Malfoy threw himself in front of an Unforgiveable Curse to save her, they were not privy to the fact that she kept in touch with him.
Some things were better left unsaid.
"How was Italy?"
Draco looked stunned for a split second before a mischievous grin spread across his features. "Ahh, yes. Italy… it was an educational experience."
Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "Was it now?"
He nodded as he pushed the gate open to the teashop and ushered for Hermione to go in before him. "Ladies first, Granger."
She eyed him skeptically but proceeded to enter the shop nonetheless. Hermione smiled at the shopkeeper standing behind the counter as Draco navigated to a booth in the far corner of the shop. When Hermione slid into the seat across from him, he finally answered her earlier question (even if said question was asked in sarcasm):
"It was. I learned a lot—I do believe I gave you insight?" There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Remember? The Veela and the Leaning Tower of Pisa?"
"I have reason to believe you made all of that up." Hermione mumbled. Draco opened his mouth to reply but a stout little dwarf scurrying to get their orders stopped him from replying. Hermione placed her order first – Earl Grey tea and a scone – while Draco opted to simply have a cup of breakfast tea.
When Draco was sure the dwarf was out of earshot, he turned his attention back to Hermione's last statement: "And why do you believe that I made it up?"
Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "Have you ever given me a reason to believe you'd be nothing less than dishonest?"
"I do recall saving your life."
"Which I appreciate… evidently, as I am" emphasis on the word 'am' "here in Diagon Alley much earlier than I originally planned. Yet you saving my life does not mean you'd be truthful about Italian architecture."
Draco snorted. "Granger, do you hear how ridiculous you sound?"
"I just don't believe a gaggle—" she had to use his word in retaliation against him (to which he smirked in response) "—of Veela was responsible for the tower to have subpar foundation. While I couldn't exactly find any research to prove otherwise, I am choosing to go with my instinct on this one."
The dwarf hurried back to serve them their order. Draco simply shrugged at Hermione's doubt. "I suppose you're going to have to make a trip to Italy with me then to fact check now, don't you?"
Hermione raised both eyebrows. "Perhaps I do. Maybe then I can find a way to properly thank you for saving my life."
He rolled his eyes at her then took a sip of his tea. "How many times must I tell you that you don't have to. You'd think for 'Madam Self-Proclaimed Genius' you would've understood the concept of it's okay." His sarcasm was not lost on Hermione.
"You saved my life—"
"And you said thanks. There. Done."
An electric pause sizzled between them. Hermione took that opportunity to sip her tea and bite into her scone. Draco was leaning back in his chair with his legs stretched out; they reached all the way over to where Hermione had hers crossed. Hermione's mind was scrambling to find what to say next but, just as the night before, she found herself rendered speechless.
Happening two times in a row was, for Hermione Granger, unheard of. Naturally she grew concerned; it's as if my brain stops working around him.
While taking a sip of her tea, Hermione peeked at Draco from over the rim of her teacup. He was studying their surroundings and Hermione took that as an opportunity to study him. Draco's silvery blond hair sat naturally askew and a faint stubble shadowed his jawline and chin.
Did he always have the beauty spot near his chin? She averted her eyes quickly when she sensed his were about to land on her.
"What shops do you need to stop by?"
"Madam Malkin's, mostly. I wanted to stop by Slug and Jigger's Apothecary and Flourish and Blotts." Hermione replied a little too quick.
In a silent but unanimous decision, Draco and Hermione decided to not return to their previous topic of conversation: her repaying him for saving her life. While, technically, the conversation remained unfinished it was a silent understanding that having breakfast at Rosa Lee Teabag was neither the time nor the place to finish it.
"Yourself?"
Draco took the last sip of his tea. "Madam Malkin's, mostly. The Slytherin insignia is missing from a number of my robes." He set his teacup down. "Care to have a partner in crime while you run your errands?"
Hermione felt her heart slam loudly against her chest. His voice, maybe unintentionally… maybe not… dropped ever so slightly towards the end of his question. His baritone was draped with a whispery husk and the sound of it immediately had Hermione's heart skipping a beat and a tingle rushing up her spine.
"Well, all of Diagon Alley has seen us walking together so why not." Hermione finished her scone and crumpled the napkin. She dropped it into her empty teacup and sat back in her seat. "Breakfast is on me though."
"I do recall saying it was my treat?" Draco crossed his arms but Hermione was already fishing for knuts and sickles out of her little coin purse.
"Well, you didn't ever actually say it's your treat." Hermione grinned. "So consider this but a small token of my appreciation for saving my life."
Draco groaned loudly and rolled his eyes. "Fine, I will let you have this but don't bring that rubbish up anymore. Move the hell on, Granger."
She narrowed her eyes at him but chose not to reply. In truth, she didn't know how to reply… she was too busy trying to understand why her heart was still pounding.
And why her spine wouldn't stop tingling.