Reformed
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Goldensnitch18
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Rated M for Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Language, and Violence.
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Summary: Draco Malfoy is released from Azkaban and sent to Hogwarts for his eighth year where he has a year to show that he can be reformed. Hermione Granger, and her friends, are struggling to come to terms with what has happened to them and move on, but she has agreed to be Malfoy's Muggle Studies tutor anyway.
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Disclaimer: I am not profiting from this story.
Anything you recognize belongs to the great and mighty JKR.
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Chapter Five:
Monday, July 27th, 1998
Harry wiped at his brow with a cloth, breathing heavy. It had been over a year since he had led workouts for his Quidditch team, but even those hadn't touched his first day of Auror training. The Auror training facility was separate from the ministry, a large building filled with many rooms for different scenarios, and a large yard that had been adapted as well. They had led the new recruits around the building and the yard, introducing each space quickly as they walked past it, and then one of the Auror's, a man at least twice Harry's age who everyone called Davos, had started to lead them through exercises outside. They had stopped for thirty minutes at midday to eat and rest and then gone back at it. They hadn't touched their wands once. In fact, their wands were back inside, safely locked away until they went to retrieve them at the end of the day.
"They're trying to kill us," Ron groaned. He was lying on the grass, clutching at his side.
Harry laughed at him, though he wasn't entirely convinced Ron was wrong. "I guess they can't have us running around getting winded chasing people."
"Isn't that what brooms are for?" Ron groaned. "Bloody bastards."
Harry looked over the rest of the recruits. There were four others in the group with them, no one he had known before today, and they were all making their way slowly back to the building. "We should probably get heading back to get our things," he urged Ron as he pushed up from the ground. Ron made a dramatic groaning noise as he followed suit. "You want to get some dinner?"
Ron sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck as he walked. "I've got to go do something."
"Do what?" Harry asked, not bothering to keep the annoyance from his voice. He was too tired to care.
"Take care of something. It's not a big deal," Ron shrugged as if that would end the conversation.
"You're being a bloody idiot, Ron," Harry snapped, and Ron stopped walking to stare at Harry with his mouth agape. "Hermione is off at Hogwarts, and, well, you bloody kissed her."
Ron sputtered, the words failing him, while Harry tried not to back down. This was Ron, his oldest friend, and he hated that this was happening. This exact moment was precisely why he had quietly, ashamedly, hoped that Hermione and Ron would never cross this line. During the battle, it had seemed like they were truly going to end up together, like everything would be okay. Harry had still been weary, but he had been happy for them as well. That joy was short-lived for both him and Hermione as something had happened to Ron, changing him. Harry was sure that it was more than just doubt about the relationship. It seemed deeper than that. They had all three changed, and Ron wouldn't just leave them like that again without having a reason, surely. As Harry watched him, his expression fierce, Ron sighed and wiped at his face with his hand. "I know," Ron muttered, turning his eyes down to the grass.
"So, what are you doing?" Harry asked, sure he sounded a little desperate.
"I've been … it sounds stupid, Harry," he insisted.
"Better stupid than being an arse to our best friend."
"I've been with Lavender at the hospital," he admitted. "She's still there, probably will be for months."
"Lavender?" Harry asked, confusion clear on his face.
"Yes. After the … what he did to her …"
"Greyback," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper. "So, are you and her …" He wasn't quite sure how to ask the question, but he needed an answer.
"No, we aren't. Not like that. She didn't even know I was there until last week." As he spoke, a flush reddened his face.
"So, you've just been, what? Sitting outside her room or something?"
Ron rubbed the back of his neck while an embarrassed grin spread across his mouth. "Yeah, basically."
"That is stupid," Harry told him, laughing.
"I know," Ron agreed. "I'll talk to Hermione. I know I need to."
"Good." Harry clapped him on the shoulder. "Now that's settled, you're moving in with me."
"What?" Ron asked, eyes growing wide in surprise.
"I can't live in that big empty house alone. Come stay with me," Harry urged. He needed someone else in the house when Ginny left.
"I thought my sister was living there," Ron told him, frowning deeply. So, apparently, he was still paying attention to some things.
"Well, she'll be back at Hogwarts in a month. You can wait until she's gone if you want, but I would really like to have you there. We've shared a room and a tent, so, surely we can handle a house," Harry forced a grin, but the truth was he was desperately hoping Ron would agree. He was afraid of Ginny leaving, of nights without her in bed beside him.
"Yeah, all right. I'm waiting until term or else my Mum will start asking me questions I don't want to know the answer to," Ron muttered as he started off again.
XXX
Monday, July 27th, 1998
Seeing Draco Malfoy gardening was certainly a new experience for Hermione. Gryffindor had never shared Herbology with the Slytherins, but she imagined that, even if they had, this would still be utterly different. Herbology was nearly always fantastical with the plants trying to eat them or going through puberty. In contrast, Muggle gardening was just dirt, seeds, and water.
She watched him carefully throughout the lesson as she politely explained each step, and he seemed more solemn than normal. She had rolled up her sleeves and opted not to wear her gloves for this task, enjoying the feel of dirt between her fingers. It reminded her of her childhood. Her mother had tried to grow flowers in the front garden nearly every year even though her father insisted that his wife, 'though beautiful and talented, should never go anywhere near a living thing and expect it to stay that way.' He teased Hermione mercilessly that this was why she had been an only child.
Draco, in contrast, wore his long sleeves and dragon hide gloves. It seemed a bit much for this task, but she didn't dare say anything to him after their last interaction. He had apologized, and that apology still hung between them with a thick and terrible tension. She spoke to explain what she was doing, and to ramble on about Muggle greenhouses, farming, and the issues the Muggle world faced with food shortages in some parts of the world due to poverty, droughts, poor soil conditions or agriculture, and other issues.
Draco only opened his mouth to ask questions, and these were extremely limited. If she had to guess, she would say that he was shocked and possibly a little appalled when she explained to him that hunger was a desperate issue for the Muggle world. There had been a momentary freeze of his hands, a widening of his eyes, and a short twist of his neck in her direction, but he had recovered quickly, restoring the mask of indifference to its proper place. Hermione had filed this moment away in her mind next to his apology and continued on as if she hadn't noticed it.
XXX
Wednesday, July 29th, 1998
After leaving her daily Muggle Studies lesson, Hermione headed out of the castle for the lake. She needed a break from her room, the library, and the construction. It was a beautiful day with the sun shining, and she appreciated the fact that she wasn't in her Hogwarts robes yet. The giant squid was floating at the surface of the lake, enjoying the warmth, near Dumbledore's white tomb. Hermione avoided both the creature and the monument by heading for the far side of the lake instead. The grounds were empty, which was still odd to her after two weeks at Hogwarts. Most of the work on the outside of the castle was finished already, the wards replaced, or the best they could manage at least. Anything else that needed to be done out here was less important than fixing the chaos that had mangled the inside of the castle. She still avoided the workers whenever possible, finding solace in places that they hadn't needed to repair or where they were already finished.
Hermione fell to her knees at the shore, pulling a blanket from her bag to lay out on the grass. Once the corners were smoothed out, she spread out on top of the blanket, closing her eyes and enjoying the heat from the sun. She wanted to feel much like the giant squid must, except she couldn't seem to push her cares away. She tried to empty her mind by focusing on the way her arms warmed and her hair blew softly in the breeze, tickling her face, but it was impossible. Her mind raced, wondering about Harry's sleep schedule, and where Ron had been, and whether Draco would pass this exam at the end of the year, and other thoughts that she didn't even want to give words.
"Hey," a voice said from somewhere above and to the side. She opened her eyes, squinting in the sudden rush of sunlight. After a few disoriented moments, she saw the outline of Ben standing beside her.
"Hey," she responded.
"May I?" he asked, gesturing to the ground beside her, "Or would you like to be alone?"
"You can sit," she told him, as she moved up into a sitting position herself. Lying next to him seemed too vulnerable.
"Sorry if I'm intruding," he told her. He set a bag down beside her. "I came out to enjoy some of this warmth for a change."
"No, you're fine. Honestly, it gets pretty lonely here without the other students. Malfoy and I, well, we're getting along okay right now, but he isn't exactly great company." She sighed as she glanced back over at the Giant Squid. He was swishing his tentacles along the lake, making large black ripples across the surface.
"I know what you mean," he laughed. "Most of the professors still feel like they should be teaching me. It's not exactly comfortable hanging out in the staff room. I mostly stay in my office, rooms, or the library."
"I would probably do the same," Hermione admitted. "I guess I kind of am."
"Have you been down to the village at all since you've been back?" he asked, turning towards her.
She was instantly reminded of butterbeer and easier times in the pub with Ron laughing at her across the table. She shook away the memories. "No. Have you?"
"I went down last weekend. Maybe we could go down to the Three Broomsticks for dinner Friday?" He spoke the words as if they were no big deal, but Hermione's chest made an odd clenching sensation that seemed to drain her of breath for a moment.
"You want to have dinner with me?" she asked, trying not to sound like he must be absolutely stupid.
"I mean, I just thought it might be nice to be around some other people, do some shopping, talk about how your practical lessons are going." He was grinning at her, and the dimple in his left cheek drew her eyes.
"Oh." She tried to stop staring at him but failed. Talking about her practical lessons made it seem like they were merely colleagues meeting to discuss curriculum. Surely, that would be okay. "I can't Friday. It's Harry's birthday."
"Well, that's okay. It was just an idea," he said, turning away, but he seemed, dare she wish it, disappointed.
"We could have lunch on Saturday," she suggested, ignoring the flutter in her stomach. Lunch seemed safer, better somehow.
"Yeah," he smiled broadly at her and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Lunch sounds good."
XXX
Friday, July 31st, 1998
Hermione had been sitting on a sofa talking to Ginny when Ron had followed Harry into the room. Ron at least had the sense to look ashamed as his neck turned pink, and he avoided her eyes. She had tried to keep her face even, to talk to him throughout the evening as if nothing else had happened. She could do it for Harry. She could do it for her own dignity. They made it through the dinner Kreacher had made for them, and the cake Ginny had baked. They had all laughed more than they had in months, mostly about life before the last year and the training that Harry and Ron were undergoing. Harry asked her how her lessons were going, and she blew past it, telling him that it was fine. She didn't bring up Ben at all, not wanting to get into any of the details with Ron there.
After dinner, Ginny started clearing their plates, and Harry offered to help, lifting Hermione's plate onto his own. It took Hermione about fifteen seconds to realize that they had done this on purpose to leave her and Ron alone.
Ron seemed to figure it out as well. He cleared his throat and looked over at her. "Do you wanna - can we go talk?"
Hermione stared down at the grain of the table for several long moments. "Yeah. Okay." She pushed back from the table and led the way out of the room. She could hear Ron's footsteps behind her as she made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. She didn't want to be overheard. As she took each step, her chest tightened and her heart raced. By the time she sat on her bed, crossing her legs underneath her, she was sure that he must be able to hear it.
Ron shut the door behind him and took slow determined steps to sit beside her. She felt the bed shift under his weight. He reached out with tenuous fingers to touch her hand, and she let him grasp her fingers in his. A subtle tingle danced up her arm. As much as she longed to not feel anything for him after the way he had been acting, she still did.
"What is going on?" she asked, still trying to calm the quick tremor of her heart in her chest.
"I don't know," Ron said. He stared down at their clasped hands and squeezed softly at her fingers.
"Where have you been?" she continued, needing something from him.
"At the hospital," Ron told her. Hermione stared back in confusion. This was probably one of the last places she would have guessed that he had been hiding from them all.
"Why?" she blurted, before she could even consider the possible reasons.
"Lavender is there," Ron whispered, his hand holding hers tightly as the words resonated with her.
"Lavender," she repeated, the word tasting awful in her mouth. "Lavender is there." Her eyes searched his face for something, more of an explanation. "Are you with her?" She hated the way her voice shook as the words spilled out. She'd practically scheduled a date with another man for the following day, but the fact that he had been with Lavender all this time made her feel betrayed in a way she hadn't expected.
"No," Ron assured her quickly. He moved his body closer to hers, and Hermione tried not to move away. "It isn't like that. I just … I feel like I should have been there to help her."
"When you were with me?" Hermione asked, not reassured at all.
"Yes. No. I mean, it's just, she needs someone," Ron said.
"I needed someone. I needed you," Hermione choked out, tears forming in her eyes. "I waited and waited, and you just weren't there."
"I'm so sorry," Ron leaned in moving his free hand to her hair. His forehead rested against hers and he readjusted, resting his weight on his knees. "I was an idiot. I … I just couldn't deal with any of it … I …" Hermione heard him sob and watched as tears began to roll down his face. "Everything reminds me of Fred, and I just feel useless. I wasn't doing anything there, I know, but it was … easier."
"I needed you," Hermione said again, letting her own tears fall as she gripped his shirt pulling him closer. Her lips met his as they tangled together, a mess of limbs and emotions. His lips were rough and salty, his hands desperate and quick. She fell back onto the bed as her fingers raked up his back, pulling him closer. She needed him like oxygen. She had needed him for so long, every day missed him, every moment felt his absence, and now he was here, finally.
Her legs moved apart of their own accord, and he fell between them, his body pressing hard against her as his mouth moved from her lips to her cheek, roughly kissing a path down to her neck. She felt her body react, shivers of need converging where their bodies pressed against one another. Her mind raced as his hand pushed her shirt up. She wanted him so badly, but she was so angry. She moaned into the air next to his flaming hair as his teeth grazed her skin, and his hand found her breast.
She wanted him. Her body was on fire, pressing up into him, asking him for more - please, more - while she tried to process how they had gotten here from crying moments ago.
Need.
She needed him.
And, he wasn't there.
"Stop." He stilled above her instantly, his body rigid. His face moved in front of hers again, and she met his eyes. "What has changed?" she asked.
"What?" he replied, breathless.
"What has changed? You couldn't be around us because it hurt, and now what has changed?" she asked, watching him, desperately ignoring the way her body was screaming for him to touch her.
"I …" he reeled, searching for an answer, and then finally fell to the side, pushing up as she moved to sit beside him again. "Nothing."
"I can't do this," she told him. "I want to, but I can't wonder where you are or what you are doing all the time." These words hurt more than she had ever thought possible, but she couldn't live like this. Life was hard enough without this.
"I know," he agreed.
"Maybe … after you get it figured out, whatever is going on, maybe then," she whispered, but even as she said the words, she doubted them. Something felt final about this moment, and the fire that he had lit inside of her moments ago burned at her insides, tearing her apart.
"Maybe," Ron said, his voice carrying the same doubt.
XXX
Saturday, August 1st, 1998
Ben was waiting for Hermione at the front door of the school. She had nearly cancelled. After she made it back to Hogwarts the night before, she had crawled into bed, still wearing her clothes, and cried herself to sleep while clutching her blanket around her. As much as she wanted to convince herself that this lunch was just lunch, she was sure that it meant more than that to him. Hermione knew that she shouldn't be getting involved with anyone right now, least of all Benjamin Crowley, the brand new Muggle Studies Professor, but she no longer cared. She had done everything right. She had waited patiently for Ron to grow up, to realize she was in love with him, and for a very, very short moment in time, it had felt like all of the pieces had come together, that they would be together, but then he disappeared, again, and she was done. She was so done waiting. She loved him, and he would always be her friend, but she couldn't keep wondering where he was, what he was doing, or why had was with Lavender Brown, of all people.
So, she had woken up that morning, taken a long, too-hot shower, and dress for her sort-of-a-date lunch with a Professor. When she had found him at the front door of the school, he had smiled widely at her. She pretended not to notice the brief move his eyes made up her body before they met hers.
"Ready," he asked.
"Yes," she replied, confident.
As they walked down to the village together, he asked her how Harry's birthday dinner had been. They had chatted about the dinner and how auror training was treating her friends until they made it to the Three Broomsticks. Ben held the door open for her as she walked inside, and Hermione was struck by the stark contrast in the pub compared to the environment she usually experienced. There were several small groups sitting around at tables, eating and laughing, but the place was much quieter and calmer than it usually was when very crevice was packed with students and their chatter.
"Ben! Hermione!" Madam Rosmerta greeted them from the table she was clearing.
"Hello, Madam Rosmerta," Ben replied, just as happy to see the woman as she was to see them.
"What brings you two down here today?" she asked, moving towards the counter with full arms.
"Your wonderful food, of course," Ben told her, giving the woman a broad smile. He seemed to smile so easily. Hermione had been finding it difficult to find things to be truly happy about. The laughter at dinner with her friends the night before had been refreshing. Being with Ben, someone that still seemed to be so naturally happy, made her feel that same cleansing sensation. It was as if she could breathe a little more freely around him.
They placed their lunch orders, and they each carried a large butterbeer over to a corner table. Ben insisted on paying for her mean "because it was my idea," which further convinced her that this was more than two colleagues sharing food.
"So, how is your work in the green houses going so far?" he asked as they settled into their chairs.
"Good, we don't have much to show for it yet, but good."
"Can I come see?"
She looked at him for a long moment, "There really isn't," she began, but he was smiling at her agains, and she was sure that she was blushing as her eyes lingered on his mouth. "Yes, of course," she finished.
"Good," he replied. "Now that we've covered that, we can talk about other things."
She laughed uneasily, "I suppose so."
They spent the next two hours talking over lunch and then an empty table. He told her about his life after Hogwarts, working in France for a researcher, and she told him family. They talked at length about their desire to work in the Ministry and agreed that the changes being made now weren't nearly enough. They imagined a world, hopefully not too far off where they both would be able to impact real legislation and make some of those changes.
Hermione felt comfortable with him. He was easy to talk to, and she didn't feel pressured to share anything about her pas with him. He didn't seem to care that her best friend had saved the world just a few months ago, but he did seem to care and understand that she didn't want to talk about it.
By the time they were standing in the entrance hall again, she was entirely sure that she was smitten with him. He was intelligent, clever, and engaging, and the way he seemed unaffected by the war, which had torn her life apart, drew her to him. She wanted to be that way again.
"Let me know when you have some time to go to the greenhouse," he told her as they stood facing each other.
"I will," she promised, and left him standing there. She couldn't stop her mind from wondering if he would have kissed her if they had been somewhere more private.
XXX
Sunday, August 2nd, 1998
Draco was seated in the circular common room. He lounged on the sofa, his socked feet rubbing together absent-mindedly as he read the agriculture book Granger had given him to read over the weekend. He had nearly finished the atrocity. It was utterly dull, while it simultaneously solidified his disgust about the topic of hunger that Granger had been rambling about while they had planted in one of the greenhouses on Monday. The book had discussed the many philanthropic efforts that Muggles had and were attempting to help with the issue of hunger, which he supposed was why Granger had wanted him to read it, or maybe it wasn't. That would be the way that he would think about it. If it was him trying to educate her, he would have found books that would have hinted at things, explaining them in a way that seemed logical enough that he could manipulate them into being her own opinions. It was probably unlikely that Granger was attempting to be that sneaky about this. She probably just wanted him to understand the topic. He turned the page, after observing an extremely still photograph of neat rows of labeled crops. It was odd that the breeze didn't push the leaves or the clouds move in the sky. The Muggle photographs in the book were a bore.
Behind him, Draco heard her door open. He hadn't really been paying attention, it didn't matter to him one way or the other, but it seemed like these midnight excursions out of the common room might be a regular occurrence.
She moved into the room far enough that he could see her as she tied her robe in place. Her hair seemed to have positively given up on any modicum of decency. It stuck out from her tie at odd angles, darting all around her head as she looked at him. "Don't you ever sleep?" she asked. Her tone was even. He knew she wasn't trying to be rude, but it still stung. He attempted to sleep as little as possible. He imagined that her reason for leaving the common room to walk nearly every night was the same reason that he sat up late into the night reading. His dreams were waiting, and nothing about that fact was inviting.
"No," he snapped, possibly a little more firm than was really necessary. "Do you?" He stared back down at his book as he spoke.
"Not well," she answered, still standing.
"Pomfrey could give you something for that," he told her. He watched her from the corner of his eye to find that she was staring at him, her expression pensive. He just wanted her to go on with her walk and leave him alone.
"Couldn't she give you the same thing?" she asked.
"If I asked her for it, she might." Go away. He hated these moments. The moments when Granger tried to talk to him like a real person. During their lessons, she spoke to him mostly how one of their professors might. She lectured, giving time for questions, leading practical work. It was easy to ignore who she was, what the sleeve of her robe was hiding from view. When she spoke to him like this, as if she wanted to be his friend, it was too difficult.
"Hmmm." Hermione made a noise that seemed like it should convey some message. "I'm going to get a drink and have a walk," she told him, turning her body towards the door as she began to move. Draco looked up at her receding figure, not trusting himself with any more words. His mind was screaming at him to push her way, but he knew that he needed her. There was no way he would get through this work without her. He would just have to do everything in his power to keep her at arm's length and discourage this kind of behavior without upsetting her enough that she would refuse to teach him any longer. A cold indifference seemed the best option at the moment.
A/N: Thank you for reading ! Let me know what you think.
XOXO
Meg
