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 Ten

Saturday, September 26th, 1998

"These look wonderful," Hermione told Ben as she examined the beds his third years had set up.

"You should have heard them going on," he laughed. "You would think they have forgotten that Muggles don't have magic."

"It's easy to forget sometimes," Hermione told him, "even for me. It's funny how our minds work." She smiled sadly as she remembered a time so long ago that she had forgotten she could produce light with magic. Ron - of all people - had reminded her. That had been back at the beginning. They had been so young, had no idea of what was to come.

"It's hard to imagine you forgetting anything," Ben said. He was standing over her and Draco's plants, observing them. "How is this going?"

Hermione sighed deeply, remembering the boy who sat across from her on his bed, the boy who sat beside her every day, lost in his thoughts. "Fine. Honestly, I think he may be more damaged than any of us."

Ben frowned up at her, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"He's just … I don't think he knows who he is anymore, you know? It's hard. I know it is. I feel it too, but for him, it's like he's trying to change so much of who he is that I think he's really struggling."

"You figured this all out from Muggle Studies?" he asked, and she heard the hesitation in his voice, a hesitation she would have called jealousy had it come from Ron.

"He doesn't have anyone else. I think I'm genuinely the only person he really talks to, and he just seems really" - she searched for a word while she stared out the glass - "broken."

"Some other Slytherins came back," he said, as if this could fix Draco.

"I know they did, but something is odd about it. I don't really get it, but the three of them seem to constantly be fighting over something invisible. I can't tell if he wants to be fighting for it or not." She sighed as she closed the distance between them.

"You shouldn't take it on yourself to fix him. He's been terrible to you."

"He was," she said simply, having not forgotten the way he used to be, the things he used to say and do, but it was all too easy for someone on the outside to see things in black and white. She had lived in shades of gray, and now her life was filled with them. Draco had become a mystery to her. He seemed to rely on her for something, and she almost missed the way he used to be, the confidence he had once had. Perhaps because it was so easy to see the same things in herself, in her friends. Harry couldn't sleep. Ron had suddenly decided that Lavender needed him. Ginny was torturing herself at the Quidditch pitch so much already that Hermione wasn't sure they even needed to have any matches to name a Quidditch Cup winner.

And, Hermione. She was having panic attacks behind closed doors and waking up screaming at least twice a week. She knew that everything she was saying about Draco could also be said about her. She had changed, and she couldn't even quite identify the ways that it had occurred. She didn't have anyone to talk to either. This conversation was probably the closest she had been to actually discussing the war with Ben, and they were still new, still getting to know each other while not letting anyone know that they were doing so. Ginny was so exhausted by dinner every night that Hermione wasn't sure she would make it to bed most days. The one exception to this had been Hermione's birthday when Harry had come to visit. Ginny had actually smiled that day.

Somehow, Draco Malfoy had become the person she talked to every day. She wasn't even sure how that was possible, but it was the truth. She had tried to imagine what that must be like for him, to have the one person he was given to talk to be a contradiction of everything he had ever believed. She tried to be understanding of that. She tried to make things easy for him, to hide the things that she was dealing with. She wondered if he knew, if he realized that they were the same.

"You're a better person than I am," Ben said as his hand found her hip.

She smiled, shaking her head. "I don't know about that," she told him, and his lips brushed gently against hers before he pulled her closer. She rested her hands on his chest, trying to push her thoughts of Draco out of her mind as he kissed her.

Saturday, September 26th, 1998

Draco had known not to go to the library. He knew it would just end badly. He had been steadily avoiding the whole place by having Granger grab books for him, but then Theo and Blaise had to get involved. They had a Charms essay to work on, and Theo had insisted that it would be no big deal. "It's been almost a month, mate," he had said. "You can't still be that interesting to them," which was apparently incorrect.

He had let them convince him to go, and the three of them had found a table in a corner nearly surrounded by shelves and started on the essay. Less than ten minutes after they arrived, students were staring through the stacks. He tried to ignore them, knowing that he would eventually have to deal with people. He couldn't spend the rest of his life hiding, but then two Slytherin seventh year girls had walked by, not bothering to lower their voices as they discussed his mother loudly.

"She tried to get an invitation to lunch. Mother was horrified, of course. Can you imagine letting a Malfoy in the house?"

Theo's fingers were digging into his arm in a single moment, locking him into his seat until the girls were far enough away that they could no longer hear them.

"I'm fucking leaving," Draco hissed, pushing Theo away before he started packing up his work.

Blaise and Theo had enough self-preservation to keep their mouths shut until he was gone, walking quickly out of the library. He needed space. He needed somewhere to think, somewhere no one else would be without having to walk back through whatever idiots were loitering around in the common area of their dorm. He didn't trust his own actions right now. He didn't trust himself not to overreact. He thought of his mother, her demure dress at his trial, the desperate look in her eyes. There was no way that she was begging for lunch invitations. That was not who his mother was. She would starve before she begged for a crumb. He was sure that the girl had been lying, trying to rub in the way that his life and family had fallen apart, but it didn't make it easier to handle. His mother had her own faults, but she loved her family. She only wanted them safe. She didn't deserve to be treated like this, not after everything else she had already endured.

His feet carried him quickly, moving without specific direction, taking him out of the castle, away from everyone else, and then he knew where he should go. He knew where noone else would be. He nearly ran, his bag hitting his thigh with each pace closer and closer to the greenhouses. He could find some work to do, or just sit there, just be away from everyone.

He drew up short as soon as he noticed the figures in the greenhouse with their project. It didn't make any sense. It wasn't Sprout. Who else would -

It was Granger. He took a step closer, and then another. He could see her profile, but the man's back was turned. Still, he was fairly sure that it was Professor Crowley, Ben as she called him. As he watched, Ben took a few steps, closing the gap between them. He moved closer, watching as Ben leaned down, as his lips fell to hers. Something primal roared within him.

Monday, September 28th, 1998

Hermione was smiling when she walked into the greenhouse. She lifted her bag from her shoulder and dropped it down on the ground. "Morning!" she told him brightly.

Draco wondered if she had been with him this morning, if that was why she was so happy. He glanced over at her, but quickly drew his attention back to the work at hand. He just kept seeing her here in this very space, that idiot's hands on her, his lips on her. The trowel in his hand snapped, and he resisted the urge to scream at the accidental magic. It had been a long time since he had been that out of control.

"I didn't see much of you this weekend," she continued as she pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it onto her bag. She rolled her white sleeves up to the elbow, and shoved, and pulled, and wrestled with her hair until it was captured in a messy bun on top of her head. She grabbed her own materials from the small work table she had left them on previously and headed towards him.

Draco made a small noncommittal noise in response to her words. She was close enough now that he could see her bite her lip, likely in confusion. He knew that he was being petty. He had no right to be angry. He had no right to feel like his insides were boiling, but he did. She had kissed that idiot. Who the hell was he anyway? Just some daft bloke who managed to score a decent N.E.W.T. in Muggle Studies and was stupid enough to take a job no one else wanted.

"Are you okay?" She had lifted her gloves and started to pull one on. He shrugged, moving further down the bed to pull at leaves that needed pruned. If they had just used magic this wouldn't even need done. "Did something happen?"

"No," he barked. She tensed, and he knew he should apologize, tell her it was nothing, but those hands had been on her, pulling her closer, and Draco had wanted to kill him. The amount of anger he had left in his body had surprised him as he had watched. The amount of emotion he felt towards her in that moment had been terrifying. He wanted her. It was so fucking wrong, and he knew it. He had been a monster to her. He had been on the wrong side. He had been vile. And, now, he was - well who the fuck knew what he was now - but somewhere along the way, he had lost his grip on who they really were.

He had fucking baked for her - baked - with house elves. What the actual fuck had consumed him, made him feel like that was a normal reaction to Hermione Granger's birthday? She had asked him to go out with her and her friends though. He had felt like he should do something, so he did, but then he asked the elves to leave them on her bed so she could pretend not to realize they were from him if she wanted to, and she hadn't done that at all. She had shown up at his door after curfew and asked to come sit on his bed and talk in her pyjamas.

Maybe, none of it was real. Maybe, it was just a reaction to her being the only person he really had in the world right now, because there was no way fucking Blaise and Theo counted right now. They were just making everything harder. Maybe, this thing with her was convenient and that was what was making him feel this way, but it sure as fuck felt real, and he couldn't just stand here knowing that she was with someone and pretend like nothing had changed.

"Don't shut me out," she said softly, and he laughed. He shook his head and ripped his gloves off, dropping them in the dirt.

"I'm not the one keeping secrets!" he roared, knowing it was stupid. She owed him nothing. She didn't even have to help him with his Muggle Studies, but she was, and he was shouting at her in return because she had the audacity to get involved with someone, someone he had teased her about. You like him. She was staring at him with her eyes wide, and he wondered if she was seeing him the way she used to, the way he had been before he forgot who he was.

"I don't know what I did! Just tell me," she pleaded.

Draco took in the sight of her desperate confusion, trying to figure out what to say to her, how to put words to what had happened, but the truth was nothing had happened, and that was the worst part. He had created something in his head, let himself get so turned around that he had started to see her in a way that he never should. She was well within her rights to be kissing whomever she liked, to have whoever she liked touching her with - Fuck! He let out a heavy breath of exasperation as he ran a hand over his face.

He felt the gentle weight of her fingers on his shoulder. "Draco," she whispered softly, and he lost all sense of control. He dropped his hand as he turned, letting it meet her waist and pull her firmly against him. She let out a squeak of surprise, and then his mouth descended on her, claiming those damn lips as his.

Monday, September 28th, 1998

Draco's arm at her waist had been the very last thing Hermione had expected. The noise she let out before he was kissing her was undignified at the very least, but she found that she had no ability to care. His mouth was on hers, and it was hungry for her. She reflexively moved her hands up his chest and neck to settle at the back of his head, as his tongue darted against her bottom lip. Her lips parted, sighing against him as he began to taste her, seemingly memorizing every inch of her. He was kissing her. Draco was kissing her, and it was excruciatingly satisfying in the way that only something so unexpected could be.

He guided her backwards with uneven steps until her back hit the wall of the greenhouse. The groove between one pane of glass ending and another beginning dug into her back, but she couldn't muster up enough concern for that either. He was kissing her, and she was kissing him back, matching his eager enthusiasm with her own. His body was hard, his hands roaming, finding new parts of her to touch with every passing moment. She heard something in her throat when his fingers caressed her breast in this madness that had overtaken them.

Somewhere in her mind, she was documenting the different sensations, but none of it made much sense. Anything close to logic had vanished the moment he had spun to face her. She was captivated by him, her body pressing forward to feel more of him against her. She was possessed with a heat that she had never felt before, a heat that seemed fostered by his lips moving down her chin to her neck as she let out another unseemly noise, this time a moan.

One hand slid down to her thigh, clenching her skirt in his fist as if it itched to feel her soft, warm skin beneath with the pads of his fingers. She shivered in response and pulled his mouth back to hers, desperate to taste him again. He rocked against her and groaned into her mouth. She moaned back, sharing in his frustration, until her mind started to creep back in. There was so little between them. Just a few pieces of cloth and the greenhouse was empty. This was insanity. What the hell was she thinking?

He seemed to have the same revelation. He bit her lip softly, and then pulled his lips back from hers, his breath hot and heavy against her own. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his hand moved up her skirt to rest at her waist over her clothes.

"No," she whispered. She had utterly lost any sense of what was happening. She had given back to him as good as she was getting.

"I saw you," he closed his eyes, and his forehead fell against hers. "I saw you with him Saturday, and I ..."

Just like that, the spell was broken, and Hermione remembered that she was involved with someone else. "Ben," she whispered again. Panic racked her body. What was she doing?

"Yes," he confirmed.

"We're sort of …" she struggled to think straight. Ben, sweet and kind. Ben who respected her mind and cared about her work with Draco, and her dreams for her future. Ben who couldn't understand the way Draco was broken, the way she was broken. She pushed back on Draco's chest, needing space to think. He let her slip away from him as she brought her hands up to her face. It was hot and flushed. "I should go," she told him.

"Hermione," he said her name, and she closed her eyes. She had been waiting for this moment, the moment when he would be comfortable enough to start using her first name. That would be it, she had thought, the point at which they would truly be friends. It had seemed significant somehow. She had never expected it to be like this. "I'm sorry."

"I know. I just - I should go." She started gathering her things to put them away, and he stood beside her watching as she frantically grabbed her tools with her still gloved hands. It was taking everything inside of her to not fall apart in front of him.

She was a horrible person. What in the hell had gotten into her? She had been devastated about Ron just months ago, then she was something with Ben, something that had seemed real ten minutes ago, and, now, what the hell was she now? Was this cheating? Was she a cheater? Were she and Ben together that way? Shouldn't she know? Shouldn't that be something she didn't have to wonder? Shouldn't she not be buzzing in the wake of kissing Draco, her body screaming at her to stop and just kiss him again? She walked to the table, dumping her things onto it, ripping off her gloves. "I'll see you later," she told him.

"We should talk,"he insisted.

"I can't right now," she said as she pulled her bag over her shoulder, and then she was walking towards the door, rushing to get away from him.


A/N: OMG. DRAMIONE. At least, that is how I feel. Haha. I hope you enjoyed this extremely uneventful chapter. *wink*

Also, I have been terrible at replying to reviews, so I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for reading. So many of the reviews on this story are just amazing and make me squeal a bit. I really appreciate it. I will try to get back into replying to reviews after my semester ends, and I have a bit more time on my hands. I recognize several names of those following or reviewing from my other stories, and that is pretty neat!

Special shout out to habababa, pgoodrichboggs, and tmtcltb who have reviewed every chapter of this fic so far, and Green Eyed Lana Lee for such detailed reviews. I feel like I just become a mess and have no words when I am reviewing, so thank you. I love all of your faces. Just so you know.

xoxo

Meg