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 Eight
Tuesday, September 1st, 1998
Ginny was shaking in his arms. He had them wrapped firmly around her back as she held him tightly, her face buried in his chest. He was inhaling the sweet smell of her shampoo, eyes closed, as she shook softly. He knew Neville and Luna had moved a few steps down the line, their conversation meeting his ears in snippets.
"The whole train was full of them one year. Dad said they took his telescope and three of his socks."
"Yeah?" Neville asked. "Maybe that's what always happens to mine. Gran's always on me about it."
It was so ordinary it nearly hurt. Luna chattering on about the year the Nargles infested the train stole socks, and Neville in trouble with his Gran. Except they were leaving, and he was staying. Ginny, Neville, and Luna were off to join Hermione at Hogwarts, and he would be home and attending training.
Beside him, someone cleared their throat. Harry opened his eyes to look over, finding Mr. Weasley standing awkwardly on the platform. Harry kissed Ginny's hair softly and pulled back from her. She wiped at her damp eyes, and looked over at her father.
"Dad," she whispered. She chewed at her bottom lip, and watched her father carefully.
"Hello, love," he moved in, pulling her into a hug. Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets, not quite sure what to do now. Ginny hadn't spoken to either of her parents in over a month now, which meant that he hadn't either, but she hugged her father as tightly as she had been holding him moments before. "You better go," Arthur told her as he took a step back. Ginny sighed, looking back at the train.
"Yeah."
"Write us?" he asked, and she nodded. Harry doubted very much that Ginny would write her mother. She was too stubborn, but hopefully she would reach out to her father. He loved her for wanting to be with him, to help him through this, but they were her family. They needed each other.
Ginny moved the two steps back to Harry and kissed him on the mouth, ignoring her father's presence, or perhaps because of it. "Love you," she murmured against his lips, and then she was gone, walking towards the train with Neville and Luna who waved back at Harry and Mr. Weasley.
"You can come stay with us, you know," Arthur said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"What?" Harry glanced up at him, and the older wizard smiled softly.
"You're looking at her like your very heart just leapt out of your body to go to Hogwarts without you. If you want to come stay with us, you are welcome any time."
Harry nodded, sure that his fear and despair had somehow snuck onto his face. "I appreciate that." He was grateful that Mr. Weasley wasn't upset with him for not fighting Ginny harder to go mend fences with her mother. He had been selfish, and he had kept her to himself as long as he could, and now she was leaving.
"I, well, Molly and I trust you Harry, she just worries that Ginny is so young," he stared at the train now, watching Luna bounce up the steps.
"I know," Harry assured him. He thought about it all the time. In this moment, he couldn't imagine wanting anything but that beautiful girl, but she had just turned seventeen and he eighteen. They had a whole life ahead of them, one that would hopefully be significantly less boring than the one he lived thus far. Lost in her red curls, and her smooth skin, and her soft whispers, it had been easy to consider those words: marriage, commitment, engagement. The idea had pulled at him with a consistent tug at his gut. His parents had married young, and so had hers.
In the light of day, those same words seemed just short of crazy. Ginny was off to Hogwarts, not even done with school, and Harry was in Auror training. They would once again be separated, only to see each other once every couple months or so. This summer had been the most time they had spent together consistently, and there was something between them. Harry could feel it, but he couldn't fix it. He wanted to, but he didn't know what to say or what to do, so he kept his mouth shut, and he sent her off to Hogwarts, his heart out of his body.
"Come on," Arthur interrupted his thoughts as the train began to slowly move. "I'll take you to lunch."
Tuesday, September 1st, 1998
Dinner was over. Hermione hadn't attended. Instead, she sat in the common room of their dormitory and waited. Draco sat across from her, both of them reading. They had taken turns glancing up throughout the night, looking towards the door as they grew more and more anxious. She shifted in her seat multiple times, unable to get comfortable.
Just as she was losing the ability to even feign reading her book, the door to the common area opened. Professor McGonagall entered the room followed by Dean Thomas, Hannah Abbot, Mandy Brocklehurst, Neville Longbottom, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott. They filed in, quickly moving to seats or to stand away from the door, all obviously waiting for McGonagall to say something.
"I just want to take a moment to tell you all how proud of you I am. No matter what happened before this, you have decided to come back here and prepare for your N.E.W.T.s. Your other Professors and I are so pleased to see you back. We want you to feel comfortable, and thought you may be better off here where you each have your own room. Please let your Head of House know if you need anything." She let her eyes trails over each of them. "I-I'm sure that each of you has experienced things that may make it difficult to forgive or to get along, but I implore you all to do your best to start over. Give the other people in this room a chance to show you that they are not entirely who you think they may be, or that they may even be a friend to you." Hermione tried to stop her eyes from flicking towards Draco, but it was no use. Brown met gray, and he immediately looked away. They were making progress. She was sure of it. They had laughed the other night as they lounged on this floor. That had been when it was just the two of them. When she had essentially been the only person he had in the world to communicate with. Would that all change now?
She looked over to Blaise and Theo. She wasn't entirely sure how close to them Draco was. She had seen him with them a few times, usually in the library, but not nearly as much as Goyle and …
Hermione shut her eyes, willing her mind not to think about it. This never worked. Instead, she saw the eager flames dancing towards her. She could still smell it. Her eyes popped open, and met his again. He looked away just a moment slower this time. She wondered if that was concern in the corner of his mouth. She moved her gaze back to Blaise and Theo as McGonagall spoke in the background. Blaise was leaning against the mantle, arms crossed, eyes glazed. Theo was sitting in the chair beside him, his body relaxed against the soft cloth. Neither of them seemed particularly evil. She had met evil. Evil had carved into her, taking a piece of her with it.
She turned back to the Headmistress in time to hear her ask if anyone had any questions for her. As the students rose to be shown their rooms, Hermione made her way to her own bedroom and softly shut the door before falling down to the floor as gracefully as she could manage. She hadn't wanted to come because of him. In the beginning, she had only worried about Draco Malfoy and what being around him would be like. She had never anticipated that this night might bring the ever present sense of panic bubbling to the surface. She tried to breathe in slow controlled breaths, but within minutes blood was pounding in her ears, her air coming in shallow, painful bursts, as the room spun around her.
Wednesday, September 2nd, 1998
Theodore Nott was lounging in the window seat, the pane pushed up to let out the smoke from the cigarette held limply between two fingers. He had picked up the terrible habit two summer ago in a fit of rebellion. As far as Draco knew, his father had never seen his smoke, so he wasn't sure how effective it was. One hand rested in Theo's mess of dark hair, elbow on his bent knee as he stared at the rain falling down outside. Across the room, Blaise Zabini sat in an armchair, his feet up on Draco's trunk, hands behind his head. His eyes were closed as he listened to the play by play from the wireless on Draco's desk. Draco sat on his bed, legs crossed, a book open in his lap.
Theo's eyes moved away from the window. "What are you reading?" he asked.
"Something from Granger," Draco answered, not moving his eyes away from the text.
"How's that going?" Blaise asked. "Can't be a fun experience."
Draco glanced up to find them both looking expectantly at him. He shrugged. "It's fine." Theo shook his head as he lifted his cigarette to his lips.
Blaise scowled. "Of all the people McGonagall could have had tutor you, it had to be the Mudblood."
"At least, she didn't bring her boyfriends back with her," Theo told them. "Fucking Potter is off learning how to protect us all." His eyes rolled at the thought.
"I feel safer already," Blaise drawled. Draco stared down at the words, none of which were actually making any particular sense to him. He was on edge having the two Slytherins back at Hogwarts. He had never considered either one of them to be close friends.
Theo was traditionally quiet and mostly kept to himself, but they were now both suddenly fatherless. Draco had at least seen his mother for those few short moments at his trial. Theo's father has been put in Azkaban, and his mother had been dead for years, a topic he wasn't fond of discussing. Draco had known Theo nearly all of his life. His family was not as notable as the Malfoys for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that the Nott fortune had been dwindled under the guidance of some unfortunate ancestors and the rumors surrounding Mrs. Nott's death were "distasteful," as Lucius would say. Despite this, the Nott name still meant something.
Thus, Draco and Theo had been thrust together on many an occasion to eat puffs in the corner of insufferable gatherings while they complained about their dress robes. These were also the moments when Draco learned that Theodore Nott was incredibly well read. He devoured books the way Draco devoured quidditch magazines. Draco was fairly sure that given a normal childhood, Theo could have challenged Granger's intelligence. As it was, he did the bare minimum to get by, spending a quarter of the time on his work that anyone else in their dorm did. Even so, he still managed to quietly achieve better marks than the rest of them more often than not.
Blaise Zabini was an entirely different situation. His mother had made her sizable fortune by marrying men with a proclivity for early graves. Draco wasn't entirely sure where Blaise's blood status fell. He claimed that he was as pure as the Malfoys. As very little was known about his father, there was no way to verify this. Lucius was fine with Draco maintaining a loose friendship with "the boy," but had reiterated time and again that he was beneath them.
Blaise was nearly always seeking to move up, achieve more, and that, Draco was sure, was why he had returned. He needed his N.E.W.T.s. scores to do that. The Ministry wasn't handing out jobs to Slytherins whose mothers had moved them to Paris for a year to avoid the war and been too nervous to let him attend another school.
Theo and Blaise both seemed more comfortable in his company than they ever had before. Draco had always been nearly untouchable, and now …
Now, he was a Death Eater stuck at Hogwarts under the watchful eyes of Minerva McGonagall and the tutelage of Hermione Granger. He was reliant on a Muggleborn for his freedom and safety. Theo had surely experienced things Draco wouldn't wish upon anyone, but he had escaped the war with his forearm blemish free. For the first time in his life, Draco wasn't sure where he fell in the hierarchy of this room, and he wasn't sure if he cared.
Thursday, September 3rd, 1998
They were sitting beside each other in the library. There was nearly half a foot between their knees, but with multiple eyes on them, it felt like they were touching. Draco had never been so aware of her before. Every flip of her hair, every sound she let slip past her lips, every easy smile tossed in his direction drew his attention.
They were too comfortable. Somehow, someway, in the past month and a half, they had begun to be different people. People that weren't afraid of each other. People that could let their sleeves touch without jumping. People that could speak to each other without venom. People who could sit on the floor and eat pizza together while they played chess. It had been so easy to let the rest of the world fade to the background when no one was watching.
Now, everyone was watching, and the world was caving in on them. The library seemed to have suddenly become the most popular spot in Hogwarts. It didn't help that it had been pouring rain for the last three days, or that news of their tutoring sessions had spread like Fiendfyre, enrapturing the entire student body, who apparently had nothing better to do than spy on Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy while they discussed Shakespeare on a Thursday morning.
She was talking, her hands moving animatedly, her knee bobbing this way and that, moving closer to his and then back away, her hair continuing to exist in its own universe as she spoke, seemingly unaffected by the idiots, possibly second years, in yellow, gaping at them through the stacks. He glanced at them, sure to deepen his scowl, and then back at her. They seemed unaffected. Granger, however, finally seemed to have caught on. She had stopped talking and followed his eyes to the children, who scattered in the path of her gaze. Apparently the ex-Death Eater scowling at you was just fine, but Hermione Granger was scary. What the fuck kind of backwards world was he living in?
"They don't mean anything by it," she said, her voice quiet as she leaned closer to him. Great. Now, they were whispering to each other. He could hear Blaise and Theo already.
"I'm never going to be able to concentrate long enough to learn anything like this," Draco told her, and he started to pack his bag. This was pointless. All he was thinking about was how they looked to the idiots watching them.
"It will calm down," she insisted. He would have bet a Galleon on the fact that her hand twitched towards his to stop him from packing before she thought better of it. Thank Merlin.
"No, it won't, Granger. You're you, and I'm me. This will never stop being a freak show," he stood, pulling his bag over his shoulder. He heard her quicken her own packing behind him as he begun to walk away from their table.
Hermione was breathing heavily when she caught up to him. "You could have waited," she said sourly.
"I'm not meeting in there again," he told her, ignoring her protests. There was no way he was going to make it look like he had been waiting for her. She was mad.
"Fine, I'll find somewhere else, okay? We can use my room. None of them can get in our dorm." She adjusted her bag, and he realized she was still trying to shove books inside it from their session in the library.
Draco actually groaned at her. "Yes, Granger. Let's lock ourselves in your room for hours on end and see if that helps the rumors. Merlin, you are a -"
"Don't finish that sentence," she snapped, cutting him off. "I assumed the rest of the eighth years might be a little too busy to gossip about our riveting discussion of theater, but if you think it will be an issue, I will find an empty classroom."
"That would be best," he agreed, trying not to think about how fucking innocent she was even after everything she had been through. Blaise himself would have started the rumors that they were shagging if they began locking themselves in her room. He had no doubt in his mind. This new dynamic they were dealing with was still unsettled, and Draco suspected Blaise would very much like to come out as the new leader in their group.
"I'll find something and let you know." Suddenly, Hermione stopped, placing her hand on Draco's forearm. He froze, nearly tripping at the sudden end to his steps and then sensation of her skin on his. She bit her lip, looked up at him, and took a deep breath as he watched her carefully. "I know this is going to be a shit year, but I'm really trying," she said, her voice soft and even.
Draco glanced down the empty hallway. "I know," he muttered, not able to meet her eye.
"Just … don't take it out on me when everyone else is acting like idiots. Okay?" She squeezed his arm softly, and he nearly ripped it back at the shiver that run up his shoulder. He had been closed up in this school too long, and it was only the first week of the year.
"Yeah," he agreed. "Okay." She took her fingers back from his arm.
"Okay," she said again and began moving towards their dorms once again.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!
I just want to take a moment to assure you that this is Dramione, and Ben will eventually end up no longer involved with Hermione. I hear you and your concern. Don't worry, my dears. It will all be okay.
XOXO
Meg
