Beta'd by Maddiechu
"You need to go talk to Dean." Ginny said at the entrance of the Great Hall, the circles under her eyes the evidence of the late night they'd shared, her hands filled with toast in a napkin.
"Why?" Hermione asked, taking the toast offered to her by the girl and looking questioningly at her, waving to Parvarti and Daphne who were walking to join them.
"You need to hear what he said to Malfoy before he decided to re-break his arm." Ginny said seriously, her eyebrows rising as her expression became hard, her point hammered home. The smell of toast made her stomach churn with hunger, but Ginny's warning added a sour note, and she sighed, taking the first bite.
"It's bad isn't it?" Hermione guessed dully, as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder.
"Yes."
"What's bad?" Parvarti asked, fiddling with her hair clip that seemed to be slipping out of place as Daphne looked sheepish beside her.
"My stupid ex." Ginny replied, nodding to the Slytherin girl with a small smile on her lips.
"I…I…I just wanted to say thanks…for last night." Daphne said to Ginny, her cheeks flushing quickly as the three Gryffindor women stared at her in shock.
"You kept me in my Quidditch captaincy, least I could do." Ginny smiled, her face lighting up with the kindness she was known for.
"Even so, you…defended me; and I thank you." Daphne said again with a formal note slipping, Ginny smirked; seemingly noticing something Hermione and Parvarti couldn't fathom and shook her auburn head.
"Did you want to come to our study group?" Hermione found herself saying to Daphne suddenly, as Ginny nodded her head in agreement and Parvarti smiled encouragingly.
"You'd be the first Slytherin to join," Parvarti smirked, as Daphne began to blush harder, biting her lip and lifting the toast she held in her hand like it were a shield.
"Yes…I think…I think I'd like that." She decided finally, as the Gryffindor girls smiled brightly at her.
"I'll send you a note when we next meet," Hermione said to her as Daphne sighed in relief; behaving as though she'd expected an ambush.
"Thank you, I better go give this to Malfoy." She smiled tentatively, as Parvarti's expression changed to one of excitement.
"Crush on him?" She asked as the girl made to leave, only to stall and grimace with disgust.
"Oh, ew." She shivered, looking horrified at the idea, and Hermione laughed in an oddly high pitched manner. "He's…really not my type. Maybe when I was thirteen and Pansy hadn't had her claws latched into him, but now…no." Daphne explained, opening up and speaking to them as if they were friends.
"See you later," Ginny said pointedly as Parvarti opened her mouth to speak again. Taking the escape given to her, Daphne smiled sheepishly and fled down the corridor.
"You know…now Pansy isn't speaking to her, I think Daphne could actually be a nice girl." Hermione considered, watching the golden blonde scurry away.
"You and me both," Ginny admitted, nodding her head more to herself than anyone else. "Anyway, you better go find Dean, I'll see you in the free period we share; can we start on my house? Harry has a break in a few days, and he wants to get started."
"Oh sure, sure, I'll meet you in the common room." She agreed, hugging the youngest Weasley fondly, taking care to not get butter in the girl's hair as they parted. Parvarti smiled and waved, before falling in beside Hermione with her all too familiar curious expression.
"You need to find Dean?" She asked hungry for gossip once more.
"Apparently," Hermione sighed, "Gin said he said something to Malfoy before he attacked him. I think I need to know it."
"Well, he's right there." Parvarti said, pointing to a man just ahead of them in the corridor, "DEAN!" She yelled suddenly, making the portraits jump back and twitter amongst themselves with irritation; the students looking around to see who was summoning who. Dean spun around, waving to Parvarti who was waving him over, he nodded, and clapped Seamus on the shoulder; who gave him a stern parting look before heading off to where he was needed. Hermione took another bite of her toast, determined to at least get a few bites of breakfast before the drama of the day started in full.
"Hey Parv, Hermione," Dean greeted them smiling at the pair, his eyes slightly reserved when they settled on Hermione.
"Hey, look, Hermione needs to speak to you," Parvarti said, making her intentions clear without saying it; she wasn't going anywhere.
"Does she?" Dean said warily as Hermione nodded, swallowing the bite of toast she'd just inhaled.
"Yeah, look, let's find an empty classroom." She said, gesturing to the pointing students who had been at the party the night before, and were gathering in small expectant groups, gesturing and whispering between themselves. Hermione threw them a murderous look as Parvarti eagerly checked the room closest to them, apologising profusely as she noticed the professor inside.
"Next one," Hermione said, knowing it to be almost always empty from the time she'd spent teaching Harry the summoning charm. Parvarti nodded, and Dean strode towards it, walking in confidently.
"Soo…" Dean said, watching as Hermione closed the door behind them, and leant against it, unsure of how to start.
"Ok, I think the best way of saying it is this: Gin said to me you said something to Malfoy before you attacked him; what was it?" She asked, feeling the words fall out of her like vomit. Dean looked awkward for a moment, suddenly extremely interested in the stone floor and the desk he was leaning on. Parvarti was attempting to not look as though she had a front row seat to some of the best drama, and a brief, horrifying thought of Parvarti speaking to the press crossed Hermione's mind before she quelled it.
"I said to him he better stop looking at you the way he does. I said that you and Ron just needed to figure it out. I said to him that he didn't deserve a girl like you." He said in a garbled manner before looking suddenly enraged, "but seriously, you over reacted – taking fifty points, I mean, isn't that over kill?" He demanded, looking furious. Hermione stared at him, her own rage building up; mingled with latent frustration and sheer annoyance.
"I. Do. Not. Want. To. Be. With. Ron." She said furiously, ignoring Dean's demand as she clenched her fists and Parvarti looked stunned. "I have spoken to Ron about this, and we both agree being together would be a mistake neither of us want to make. Ron and I are done. We never happened, so we're even more than over." Hermione spat, livid that everyone seemed to be making decisions on her romantic life for her. "As for the points…what do you think McGonagall would have done!"
Dean gaped at her in astonishment; not expecting her quiet deadly fury.
"Taken points, but not that many!" He defended as Hermione rolled her eyes.
"She took thirty from Ginny yesterday for not even laying a finger on someone, but for provoking Daphne to assault Pansy. Daphne had fifty points taken and detentions for some time!" Hermione retorted, "I was being kind not giving you detentions, I just took points that can easily be earned back! You started a fight Dean! You attacked the Head Boy! I'm the Head Girl! What was I supposed to do? Stand there and encourage you? What's worse is that I learn you attacked Malfoy over me! You are unbelievable. Why can't people think about what I might want. Not what you all expect me to do." She sighed, letting her anger go as Dean's expression changed to one of extreme guilt.
"I'm sorry Hermione, you're right. I never considered what you might have wanted. I know it's no real excuse, but I was drunk too; and Malfoy…" Dean's face contorted to one of anger again, as self-righteous anger slipped through his senses.
"I get it Dean; I was tortured on his dining room floor." Hermione said softly, sympathy dripping from every syllable as Dean closed his eyes, the memory haunting his expression.
"I didn't speak at his trial despite being asked because I thought…I really thought he was going to Azkaban. I thought my speaking would be just unnecessary after everyone else's testimonies. I didn't want to see the bastard again. Now he's swanning about the damn school as Head Boy! What the hell was McGonagall thinking?!" He said frustrated, as Parvarti began to look as though she was intruding, her face mildly nauseous.
"I don't really know what happened at the trial. I was only there because I submitted evidence. All I know is that he was made to pay a very hefty fine. McGonagall made him Head Boy, because he's exactly who the Slytherin's need right now. House unity is really important Dean. We've just had a war! I get that you don't like him, and I'm not asking you to, but…we can't keep living in hatred like this. She made him Head Boy because the Slytheirn's need to see that someone who was literally on the brink of throwing his life away can succeed again, that people forgive mistakes others have made." Hermione said quietly, as Dean looked as though he was on the verge of a shouting fit.
"He locked us up in his wine cellar!" Dean repeated indignantly.
"Draco. Personally?" Hermione asked pointedly as Dean flushed with annoyance. "Because when I got there, he lied to his families faces about Harry's identity. He said he didn't know who it was." Hermione said feeling incredibly defensive all of a sudden.
"Ok. Fine. Not him. But…"
"I get it Dean. I really do. But do me a favour; please. Don't start fights. I get that you're angry at him, but just don't speak to him. Don't do anything that you don't have to with him. Take your anger out some other way." Dean nodded, sighing and wringing his hands, his expression still conflicted.
"I get it." He repeated Hermione's words, nodding his head more vigorously and pushing himself up off the desk. "I still don't like Slytherins." He said defiantly and Hermione laughed.
"I'm not asking you to." She smiled kindly and Dean grinned at her.
"Sorry Hermione." He apologised again, clapping his hand on her shoulder and looking at her sincerely.
"It's not a problem. We best get to class."
:: :: ::
"Ok, let's work this out." Jenna said with a sigh to her voice, the autumnal chill to the air making her shake her limbs to keep herself warm, the team spread out before her. "Malfoy has just got out of the hospital wing this morning; I don't particularly want him heading back in there considering we've the first match of the season coming up. However, it's obvious we've got…issues." She finished slowly, staring her glowering, angst filled team down; watching them shift their weight from foot to foot.
"Yeah we've got issues." A dark mutter came from beside him, and he glared at the boy to his left, bored with empty threats.
"Exactly, nice to see you agree with me," Jenna sighed in a defeatist manner, gesturing to the speaker. "I can't have this team fighting. I never expected to get captain, but once Max went full jackass, I got it. So we're going to have to work this out. Slytherin needs to win the Quidditch cup. We need it. We need to finally get something out of all this hatred we get. The rest of the school hates us because of our reputation; but…what is our reputation exactly?" She asked them, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at them pointedly, ignoring the chilly wind that hinted to Octobers dawning.
"Purebloods." Someone said, and Draco rolled his eyes as Jenna looked mildly irritated.
"Yes, right. Excellent Mason. Excellent. Everyone in the school hates us because we're purebloods." She repeated sarcastically, as Mason looked proud of himself, a spectacularly doughy face splitting into a dozy smile. "It's sort of the right answer though," she sighed, as Draco looked at her intrigued, wondering where this was all going. The first quidditch practise of the season was looking rather entertaining for all the wrong reasons.
"Is it?" He asked her wanting to hear her justification. "They hate us just because we're purebloods?" He challenged as Jenna looked at him confused.
"Well I guess it's more than that." She answered, redoing her messy bun on her head as it slipped.
"Why do the rest of the school hate Slytherin." Draco asked her outright, settling his body weight onto his hovering broom, and casually floating on the spot; his silvery eyes piercing.
"Because we're pureblood and because…" She trailed off looking mildly uncomfortable as the rest of the team began to look a mixture of angry and confused.
"Because you belong to our house!" The dark mutterer from before said violently, and Draco sighed, bracing himself for another assault.
"Oh yes, it's just me. I alone am responsible for over a thousand years' worth of bad reputation. Just me." He answered sarcastically, meeting the boys dark eyes fearlessly.
"Your family are." He retorted, and Draco tipped his head to the side, thoughtfully.
"I'm not going to deny they probably did have something big to do with it." He admitted, as his challenger stepped back in surprise, his expression melting to one of amazement.
"You drunk?" He asked him, searching for the source of Draco's lack of rising to the bait.
"No, I'm…bored." Draco replied, staring the entirety of the team down. "I agree with you by the way Jenna. The school does hate us because we're pureblood, but it's not just that. The majority of us have bullied them too. It's not a lie when Slytherin has produced the most dark wizards than any other house. We're…we're not good people. I certainly wasn't the best." He swallowed, watching their angry and confused expressions carefully, seeing them change to wary, as some of them gripped their brooms. "I'm just bored. I thought I was doing what I was supposed to be; being an unbearable dick all these years. That was what was expected of me. Now what? What did I earn?"
"Head Boy." The dark eyed boy interrupted spitefully.
"It's not a position of pride for me. McGonagall knew what she was doing when she put me in this position." He replied, as the dark eyed boys face contorted into disbelief.
"I don't understand." Jenna said for him, copying Draco's position on her broom, hovering like a stereotypical witch.
"I'm Head Boy. If I abuse my position; I'm done. I don't just mean in school, I mean my whole career. Everything. Have you seen the press lately, they love me. Anything to do with the last remaining Malfoy heir. If they hear I've had my position taken away from me, I'll never be able to get a job after Hogwarts. They'll go mad assuming what I've done to not be Head Boy anymore. I'm not saying I don't deserve the hate… I do, but McGonagall put me in the position to-"
"Make you humble from the sounds of things," A small blonde girl said watching him wearily.
"That and…"
"For Slytherin…" Jenna breathed blinking in confusion. "I wondered, really wondered when I heard the news that you were Head Boy. I mean, think about it for a moment. A Slytherin. Head Boy. And not just any Slytherin. One that had just escaped Azkaban. McGonagall must have been out of her mind. But it's for the house isn't it. After the war." She asked him, leaning forward as an eerie silence fell over the team.
"I don't get it." Mason said, interrupting the thinking of the gathered group.
"Our reputation is fucked mate, lowest it's ever been, McGonagall hoped to achieve something by putting Malfoy as Head Boy." The dark eyed boy said to Mason, attempting to fill him in.
"Not just anything." Jenna said, catching Malfoy's eyes with a curious glance.
"No, you're right. Dumbledore apparently saw something in me." Draco began, thinking of the man offering him help as his wand was pointed at his chest, his vision blurred from unspilt tears. "I doubt McGonagall would have gone to all this effort if it weren't for him. It's to make me a better person, but to make Slytherin see we can come back from the very worst we've been."
"But we're not going to be able to do that if we…" Jenna began sighing once more and running a hand over her forehead in despair. "Look, we won't be able to say we were a Slytherin with pride and without being beaten up in the corridors if we don't show we're better. We need to win the damn quidditch cup so we can show everyone we're succeeding at something. I can't even remember when we won something in the school, it goes well beyond Potter joining Hogwarts and the favouritism streak; right now, all it means to be a Slytherin is that we're…well, we're shit." She sighed again, as the team looked uncomfortable, an unpleasant note of truth adding to the wind that whipped about them.
"You're not going to start preaching about working together and teamwork are you?" The dark eyed boy sighed, looking repulsed.
"Of course I am! We can't be a team if we don't work together, you moron!" Jenna snapped, looking livid.
"Right, and how do you suggest we go about that."
"Oh for Merlin's sake Jason, whatever problem we have with each other; we need to work it out. We need to have a big old fight; get our anger out so that when the first match of the season comes up –it's us against Hufflepuff. In just three weeks' time, we destroy them on the pitch."
"So you want us to have a punch up?" He asked her with disbelief as Draco cringed inwardly, not wanting to head back to the hospital wing again.
"If it helps." She sighed and Draco swore, cracking his knuckles menacingly.
"That's the best idea you can come up with? Not making us have a practise match against one another? Force us to play roles we're uncomfortable with so we have to actually work together, Merlin, how did you get captain?" Jason asked her, shaking his head as Jenna looked stunned.
"That's…that's a much better idea." She said stunned, as Jason rolled his eyes.
"No shit." He replied, only to be ignored by the fledgling captain who was separating them all out into two small teams.
"Ok, we obviously will have to do without a seeker and a keeper for both teams, so who ever scores the most points; you set your team up however you feel is best. Let's…lets really actually win something this year, yeah guys?" Jenna said in a desperate attempt to be motivational. Draco smirked at her, understanding her plea and nodded, looking forward to finally playing some kind of Quidditch.
:: :: ::
"How was practise?" Hermione asked, placing her quill down and pushing herself away from the desk. Her long, somehow silkier brown hair braided over her shoulder, her skin flushing slightly as she turned to face him.
"Not bad actually," he answered, kicking the door closed with his foot, grabbing his broom in both hands to place it above his desk in its hooks. Pride of place. Hermione smirked to herself, watching as Draco began to tug at his Quidditch robes, eyeing the bathroom they shared eagerly. "I'll have a quick shower, then you can help me with my patronus, I've got most of my homework done for this week, so…" he said, tugging his sweater off roughly, and the overpowering earthy scent wafted over her.
"Sure, I've nothing else to do today, I've finished my homework, so why not." She shrugged, lying to herself and hoping her deceit wasn't noticeable, the half-finished essay behind her. The idea of spending more time with Draco was far more appealing than the magical theory behind conjuration.
"Great, see you in ten." He nodded, disappearing behind the bathroom door, his wand suddenly appearing, and fresh clothes shot from his room into the bathroom. Hermione laughed, turning back to her essay, determined to get at least a few more inches down before the night was spent attempting to summon guardians.
The shower turned on, and Hermione began to blush furiously, remembering the discussion she'd shared with Ginny about men in their Quidditch uniforms. She gripped her quill a little too tight, attempting to distract herself from the overly tempting thought of really studying Draco and his body after Quidditch practise, and succeeded; scrawling a fresh sentence of magical theory. Sounds of water being splashed about began to become far more appealing than her homework and Hermione gave in, rolling up her parchment and placing her quill away in its pot. Her evening routine of tidying up her desk began; she tucked away the essay in its cubby hole, smiling to herself. She'd become attached to the desk and this room, despite her love of the library, the easy peace she had here studying was just too irresistible. No overly giggly first years to interrupt her, or a couple thinking they were being sneaky by kissing between the shelves. She piled up the books, ordering them in their respective piles; her own belongings, loaned from the library, and ones that needed to be returned. The shower began to turn off, and she turned, surprised at the speed at which he'd washed wondering what was up. With a pair of books in her hands, she listened carefully, blushing at her eaves dropping knowing Draco was likely naked behind the door. It opened, and a fully clothed man walked out, staring at her in surprise.
"Why are you blushing?" He asked her, his hair completely dry.
"That was fast," She retorted, watching as he flicked his wand and his quidditch gear disappeared into his room.
"I'm a wizard." He shrugged and she laughed, realising he probably had used magic to help him shower. "So, patronus." He said pointedly, closing the bathroom door and stepping towards her.
"Ok yes, yes." Hermione answered, putting the books down and withdrawing her own wand. "What are you having trouble with."
"Memory." He answered a slight tinge to his cheeks. "Nothing I use is working."
"How happy are you in the memories?" She asked, suddenly serious and teacher like.
"Enough." He replied tightly, and Hermione pursed her lips, placing her hands on to her hips and looking at him disbelievingly.
"Right, show me your patronus then." Hermione retorted, as Draco bristled, immediately irritated.
"Expecto Patronum!" He obliged, and nothing happened. The room remained a gentle orange glow, no silver wisps to brighten the place.
"What are you thinking of?"
"What do you think of when you cast a patronus?" He countered defensive all of a sudden.
"My Hogwarts letter, and the visit from McGonagall," Hermione replied as Draco looked at her stunned. She sighed, walking around to sit on their sofa, recognising a conversation on the theory behind the charm was apparently necessary.
"That's it?" He asked her in disbelief, and she threw him an irritated look.
"Well it was the happiest moment of my life!" She exclaimed, "Everything about me suddenly made sense!"
"What do you mean?" He asked, coming to join her on the sofa, his movement smooth as usual. He dropped onto the couch, pulling her into him, his arm about her waist as he rested against the sofas arm. She laughed, wiggling into a more comfortable position.
"You know how you find out if a child is magical; unexplained incidents. Things like your hair growing back in one night after a bad haircut, or suddenly having the cat that was previously the other side of the road to you in your arms." She began, remembering her own magical mishaps, and Harry's, realising she'd never thought to ask Ron what his were. "Well, in the magical world, I'm sure you just shrug it off, and go 'oh look, that child isn't a squib, hooray.' But in the muggle world…those occurrences make you a complete freak and an outsider. When unexplainable stuff keeps happening to you, it can be hard to make friends. You get confused and angry because you don't know what is going on with you. It's frustrating, because the magical outbursts only happen when you're at an emotional high or low point; or you need to defend yourself. So…they can happen just enough that when you think it's a fluke, and some sort of miracle, it happens again. When I got my Hogwarts letter, and learnt all these things were genuine and normal for some people in the world…Draco, it was incredible. I had a place in the world. I wasn't crazy; my parents didn't need to look into doctors for me, I was normal. Magic actually existed. Of course it was going to be the happiest day of my life." She explained, as Draco listened in rapt silence, astonished with her honesty.
"No wonder you were such a jumped up little bitch if you didn't think you had a 'place in the world.' I can't imagine not knowing I was a wizard." He said in wonderment as Hermione scoffed at him.
"I was also eleven! I don't remember you being a bloody saint!" She retorted as he chuckled, kissing her shoulder.
"So it has to be the happiest day or moment of your life." He said dully, the merriment dropping from his teasing, hugging her suddenly closer.
"Yes," she said, twisting about so she faced him, he slipped down on the sofa with her movement, so his head was on the armrest. She smiled coyly, positioning herself so she was lying on top of him. "You need to think of the happiest thing you can, and focus on that emotion. Maybe your first kiss, your first time flying, or your favourite holiday; just as long as it's happy." She began to whisper, as Draco ran his fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ear, her braid falling over her shoulder.
"I thought about the first time flying, but that wasn't enough, nor was my first kiss, or anything like that. All I can think about is bloody Dawlish saying how he expects nothing from me because-" He whispered, wrapping his arm about her waist again.
"No. Forget what he says. Don't do it to prove him wrong. Don't get angry in the middle of the cast. Be happy. You can do it. I believe in you." She whispered, finishing her sentence with a small fluttering series of kisses from his temple to his jaw. His breathing increasing as she pressed her lips to the side of his mouth. He cupped her cheek, pulling her lips to his and capturing her mouth with his. They kissed, slowly, each movement somehow measured and precise; but delivering a delicious slow release of pleasure down their spines, their bodies melding together. He pulled away, smirking slightly.
"Best not let you down then if you believe in me Granger," he smirked, calling her by her surname in a mocking hint to their previous history together, he picked up his wand once more, and aimed it at the coffee table; their heads turning to watch the wands tip together.
He took in a deep breath, his lips drawn together, as Hermione linked her hand with his, her other hand moving to his chest.
"Expecto Patronum," he said quietly.
The faintest, tiniest hint of silver slipped from the wand tip, simmering and shivering like moonlight.