"So this is what the Gryffindor common room looks like," Draco remarked as he helped Hermione carry her trunks up to her room, even though she could have just used magic.
"I must say, I thought it would be...gaudier. And with more framed pictures of Potter on the wall."
"Ha ha," Hermione replied, heading for the staircase.
His quick reply of, "What can I say, Granger? I am a comedic genius of the highest order," followed her ascent.
To be honest, Hermione did not have a plausible excuse for why shed let Draco up here, into the very heart of Gryffindor. Maybe because it had been such a long time since someone had put her first, had made sure she was okay not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. Maybe it was because, on that very first day, when he'd come up to her out of the blue, he had decided to try and make amends. The look on his face, the downcast turn of his eyes, set as if expecting a rejection he thought was inevitable and well-deserved ...
Yes, Draco Malfoy the boy did not deserve her forgiveness; Draco Malfoy the young man, however, deserved a clean slate.
But now, in the light of today, that slate was filled with colours: gratitude and respect and admiration and surprising tenderness. For the first time, Hermione wondered if they could have been friends before, if he had been put in her house. But then, he would not be the person he was now, who she had traded stories with over lunch, talked about and debated everything from art to history to politics and magic. And books. How could they not talk about books? She recalled one of their first proper discussions, which had stemmed from a snarky quip from her about Draco had his plethora of shirts.
Hermione and Draco had been working near each other for the past few weeks. Whilst things between them were by no means chilly, the two were bogged down by past actions, and intrinsic prejudices and opinions take time to dismantle, and for that process to begin a common ground must be found.
It was, however, on the Wednesday of their third week that things began to change. Hermione had been lost in her work, repairing a delicate piece of glasswork whilst Narcissa helped the teachers with some interior repairs, when she saw Malfoy's platinum hair streak into her vision, accompanied by a midnight blue shirt. Hermione chuckled.
"What have I done to amuse you, Granger?" Malfoy drawled.
"Nothing," Hermione said, returning to her work. "It's just that I've never seen you wear the same shirt twice, therefore, your wardrobe must be so big, I'm surprised you haven't found Narnia."
"Narnia? he inquired. "Sounds like some ghastly knitting pattern or a brand of shampoo."
"Narnia," Hermione began, "is a fictional kingdom in a very famous series of muggle fantasy books. They're classic, bestsellers all over the world."
"What's a wardrobe got to do with a fantasy kingdom?"
"The wardrobe is a portal to Narnia," she clarified. "I think you'd like it; I myself often draw parallels between the four main characters and certain attributes of Hogwarts students."
"Duly noted," Malfoy replied, walking off to attend to his own duties.
On Sunday, Hermione was eating lunch alone by the Black Lake when Malfoy unceremoniously flopped down beside her and proclaimed, "You were right, Granger."
"I'm afraid you're going to have to clarify that statement, Malfoy," Hermione replied. "I have in my life been right about many things."
Malfoy huffed a laugh. "I'm not even going to respond to that. No, I meant about the Narnia books, and the Pevensie siblings."
"You read them?" she practically squealed, a comically large grin morphing into shape across her face.
"I did."
"All of them?"
"Indeed. I must say, I rather enjoyed them. Peter was tolerable, with all of his Gryffindor nobility. Naturally, I enjoyed Edmund a great deal. Susan was fine. But, in the end, I think I appreciated Lucy the most, her growth of character. How she was the glue that kept them all together, how she held onto the magic and her belief, even when others doubted her."
Draco groaned. "Merlin's beard, I just admitted out loud to basically liking a Hufflepuff, didn't I?"
Hermione laughed, almost dropping her apple. "You most certainly did. In a very eloquent and thoughtful way, I might add."
"If you ever tell anyone that, there will be dire consequences of the shameless teasing kind."
Hermione nodded. "Duly noted."
"Excellent," he said, stealing the remainders of her apple and looking up at her with a grin.
"Now, Granger, what else have you got for me?"
And so it began. Their conversations were length and passionate, and Narcissa often joined them, until their talks became the favorite part of Hermione's day. Whilst she enjoyed her work, enjoyed helping return her school and home to it's former splendor, the relationship that bloomed between the three was just as enjoyable and important to Hermione. A first stitch to close a wound Hermione had not even realized herself that needed to be so desperately closed together.
Hermione smiled and pulled on the first jumper and pair of jeans she came across in her trunk. Deciding that it probably wouldn't be wise to leave Draco on his own with her cat, Hermione returned to the common room, pulling her hair into a ponytail as she went.
She was met by the sight of Draco sitting stiff-backed in an armchair, seemingly having a battle of wills with her cat.
At her approach, Draco looked up. "Very prideful of you, Granger," he remarked, gesturing to her red jumper.
"Oh, this? I wasn't even looking. I was going for comfortable and clean above all. Listen, Draco," Hermione began.
"Are we friends?" Draco blurted.
"Of course," Hermione replied instantly.
"Friends help each other. I know I wasn't all that pleasant when we decided to bury the hatchet a few weeks ago. As you know, I was raised on that garbage the way you were raised not to eat too many sweets and to not leave your toys by the top of the staircase. Especially Legos. But the War changed me. Or, at least, helped me to realize I was already changing, that I could not be the son my father wanted to be. That I couldn't kill Dumbledore, or any other person. Or innocent creature. When Bellatrix hurt you, but you didn't break, I was in awe of you. Truly. I'd never seen anyone braver, and you deserve to have your magic, to have you voice heard and matter. I think you will do amazing things, Hermione Granger, and I want to help you and support you, in whatever way I can. I could not be there for you then, but I want to try and be there for you now. As your friend."
Hermione didn't have any words in her. So she simply threw her arms around him, clinging to him as if he were solid ground and she had been unsteady all her life. His arms came around her lightly, as if still a little unsure. Whilst she knew, in her heart, that Harry -and Ron, once he came around- would always be her best friends, that was a friendship born out of childhood, of innocence and magic and adventure. Here, here was something else. Both Draco and Hermione had a long way to go to feel whole again, to be able to sleep through the night and not see the faces of the dead, or the things that they had had to do to survive, but maybe that was what she needed: someone who was different from her, yet equal in all the ways that mattered. Maybe she needed a knew kind of friend.
"If you're just saying all that so I'll help you with your homework, I'll hex you so violently you'll be in the hospital wing until next summer," she mumbled into his shirt.
Draco laughed. "While I have no doubt in your hexing abilities, that would never happen, and it's more likely you'll come to me for scholastic aid, even though you are older, but that means my brain is younger, therefore in better form than yours."
"Who knew you could use my age against me?"
"Indeed. Now, me and my mother are going to talk to McGonagall so that you can get some rest and try to calm down a little."
At her raised eyebrow he said, "Believe it or not, I know you, Hermione, and I can tell that you're still not okay. Hell, I know I certainly wouldn't be after what you just went through." Realizing that his arms were still around her, Draco let go. Hermione gave him one last squeeze before she removed herself and picked up her cat.
"Who won?" she asked, gesturing between them
Draco smirked. "Your cat seems to approve of me, but I think that may be because he know sees me as just another source for extra food and to deposit his hair on." Indeed, his light grey shirt was dotted with ginger fuzz.
"I think it's a good look on you," she chuckled.
"I'm a Malfoy. I look good in everything. Now, will you be okay? I can stay and keep you company, if you want."
"While that's really sweet of you, I think I need to handle this on my own. I'm going to keep trying, and if this happens again, I can't take advantage of you every time my life falls apart. That's not fair to you, or Narcissa."
Draco had reached the door by the time he replied. "Hermione?"
She turned.
"The only thing that wouldn't be fair is if you stopped."
Draco was thinking about doing something stupid. Although he had been nothing but courteous and respectful with the Headmistress, Narcissa knew her son and knew all of his tells, even if he didn't believe that he had any. So once things had settled, Narcissa sat beside Draco in the courtyard and asked him what was troubling his mind.
"Nothing," he said with a bland smile. "Nothing at all."
Narcissa raised her eyebrow in challenge.
Draco raised his right back.
Deciding to get to the root of the problem, Narcissa murmured, "As unsavoury and dishonorable as Mr Weasley's behaviour has been towards Hermione, you must not do anything rash, Draco. Not only because, presumably for the rest of our lives, the Ministry will expect us to be nothing short of perfect, but more importantly because he is one of Hermione's closest friends, and she cares for him a great deal. You have to understand that the boy is grieving, and may not be aware of how damaging his words and actions are to others."
"But he hurt her," Draco said, voice barely above a whisper.
Narcissa put her arm around her son. "I know he did, Draco. And, believe it or not, I'm furious at his behaviour towards such a sweet and kind person as Hermione. Whilst me and her had little to do with each other for the last seven years, I am still the wife of a Death Eater, still the sister of the witch who has so brutally tortured her, yet she has never beenhorrible or cruel to me, only offered me forgiveness and a chance at friendship. I know she's important to you, dear, but she's also very important to me, and I want her to be happy; if only because she tries so hard to make the lives of everyone else around her better, and yet she does not believe that others could wish the same for her."
"I asked her if we were friends?"
"And what did she say?" she asked.
"She said 'Of course.' As if we had never been enemies, as if I had never called her... that word. As if I had never been such a despicable and deplorable person to her since the moment we met."
"But that was not your fault. It was mine and your father's."
"Mum," Draco protested.
Narcissa put up her hand. "No, Draco, it's true. I and your father were wrong, for so many years, and I'm so very glad that I am not the person I was before the War started. I'm so glad you aren't, either. None of that matters now, none of it. All we can hope for is that we never fall back on our old ways and that we try to make the world better, in whatever way we can, for whoever we can. It's time to let the Dark go, Draco. It's time to look to our hearts for guidance, and not the bigotry and small-minded ways of our ancestors."
"Do you think that she'll be okay?"
"I do, Draco. Given time, i'm sure Hermione will be just fine."
"What if I mess up? If I revert back to who I used to be, even for a moment? I don't want to hurt her," Draco confessed.
"I know you don't," Narcissa soothed, "and I'm sure that Hermione does, too. And if you ever feel like you're slipping back into that place, I will be there to help you. Both of us will."
"Just like we'll help Hermione?"
"Yes, Draco," she promised. "Just like we'll help Hermione."
Author's Note: Good afternoon! Thank you so very much for reading, it means so much and i hope you enjoyed this one. I mentioned Narnia in honour of all of the posts I've seen about Hogwarts and Narnia crossovers.
Stay tuned, the next chapter will have a surprise!
Love, Temperance