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 Twelve

Friday, October 9th, 1998

Hermione sat towards the front of the class and to the right of him. Weasley's sister was beside her staring off into space while Slughorn droned on about something or another. Potions came easily to Draco. It didn't require the attention that Charms or Transfiguration would, so he didn't really care that he had spent the last hour ignoring the man as he considered exactly how to corner Hermione after this lesson.

He was done with waiting. They had missed out on two full weeks of tutoring now, and he was starting to worry that she would never come back. He had thought, perhaps, she needed some space, or that she might change her mind, or that she would just come back out of a sense of responsibility because she was a bloody Gryffindor, but she had been consistent in her attempts to evade him. So, he was left with Theo's advice. Be a Malfoy. Make her see reason. He wasn't sure precisely how he was going to accomplish this, but it was going to happen in - he looked at the clock - two minutes.

He looked back to Slughorn, blocking out the man's incessant chatter while he tried to quickly, finally determine what to say to her to get her to talk to him. Was there anything he could say to get her to talk to him? He wasn't honestly sure. It was possible she was waiting for him to approach her. He found that unlikely, but he could hope. Draco shoved his book into his bag and pulled it over his shoulder, waiting for class to end.

"Well," Slughorn sighed dramatically, "it is sadly time for us to part. I will see you next week." Draco moved quickly, walking for the door and then down the hall just enough that he wasn't visible outside. Students followed him out, mostly walking in pairs or small groups talking amongst themselves. She came out with the Weasley girl. The redhead was chattering about something to her, but Hermione was watching him. Their eyes met, and she bit her bottom lip. She knew he was waiting for her.

"Granger," he said once they had almost reached him. She seemed to sigh in acceptance and turned towards Weaslette.

"Tutoring. I'll see you later, okay?"

The other girl eyed him as if she could somehow find something in him in that very moment that might help her understand him. It was unnerving at the least. "Okay. See you at dinner." She moved her gaze from him and began to walk again, leaving them behind. Hermione shifted her bag nervously on her shoulder as the rest of the class filtered past, several of them staring at the pair standing awkwardly in the hall.

"Come on," he told her, walking back the other direction. She followed as they passed the potions classroom again and down past another few doorways. He turned left down a hallway and then left again stopping in front of a tapestry. He pulled it aside and waited for her to catch up. She glanced inside at the seating area hidden within. After a moment of hesitation, she walked inside. He let the tapestry fall back in place as he entered.

"So," she asked, lifting a hand in question.

"So, it's been two weeks since we met for tutoring." He stood near the opening, leaving plenty of space between them.

"I know," she bit her lip again and pulled a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked.

She gaped. "I thought that was fairly obvious. You kissed me. "

"So?" Draco shrugged, as if this was no big deal as if she hadn't been the only girl he had kissed in the last year.

"So?!" she demanded.

"Yeah, so? I kissed you. I didn't ask you to marry me. There is no reason to hide over it." The words slid out coolly, almost as if he was himself again.

"I'm not hiding!" she snapped.

"Really? You're not hiding, Granger?" He crossed his arms, his eyes meeting hers, forcing her to face reality.

"So, now I'm Granger again," she said, changing the subject.

"Two weeks of not speaking to me made it clear you would like to stay Granger." He smirked at her, and it felt damn good.

Her face reddened in response. "Dammit, Draco! Don't be an ass."

"I'm not being an ass. I'm telling the truth. I kissed you, and you're with him. End of story." She opened her mouth to respond but quickly shut it, staring back at him. "What?" he asked.

"I'm … I can't talk about this yet," she told him quietly.

"Yet?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yet," she confirmed.

"What does that mean?" he asked. She was silent. "Granger" - he took a step closer, but she mirrored him, also moving backward - "Are you ending things?"

"I - just - why are you so difficult?" she spluttered.

"I'm just asking you a question," he told her, his mind was trying to race two steps ahead, to wondering why she would be ending things.

"That I don't want to answer yet," she told him.

"I'm not going to tell him you're breaking it off. Believe me." He silently hoped that he was right. That she wasn't going to be hiding around the school with that idiot because as much as he lied to himself and said that he could be okay with that, he wasn't. Not at all.

"I've decided that I need to focus on me for a while," she said, finally confirming the truth.

"What does that mean?" For us.

"It means, I'm clearly messed up and need to work on my own mess for a minute," she was really worked up now. Her hair was flying, her cheeks still red, her mouth tight.

"So kissing me means you're messed up?" he asked.

"No, of course not, but being this confused about what I want and what is right does. These haven't been the finest months of my life." He could give her that. Things since the war had been nearly surreal.

"Fine. I won't kiss you." He wanted to kiss her again. He could close the distance between them in three steps, but then he would be back where he had started before this conversation had begun.

"Fine," she said as if this was exactly what she wanted.

"We're starting tutoring again on Monday," he told her.

"Fine," she said again.

"When are you going to tell him?" he asked, needing to know when exactly she was planning on being free of him.

"Seriously?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, I don't need to know." Draco shrugged, but then added, "Will you tell me after?"

"You're ridiculous," she insisted.

"You kissed me back." He smirked again, remembering exactly how good it had felt to have her returning his attention in earnest.

"This does not come up again," she said, pointing one finger at his chest.

"Whatever you say, Granger," he smiled and turned to leave.

Sunday, October 11th, 1998

Hermione forced a smile as Ben pulled her into his quarters. The door shut firmly behind her, and his mouth found hers, kissing her desperately. She placed her hands on his chest and applied a gentle pressure, pushing him back.

"What's wrong?" he asked, pulling his lips from hers, his eyes searching for the answer on her face.

"We should sit down," she suggested, glancing over at his sofa.

"This doesn't sound good." He took three steps back from her and crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's, well, no," she said, simply. "Do you want to sit down?"

"I can stand," he told her shortly. They stood there, her looking at the ground, him staring back at her, for several long minutes. "So?" he asked.

"I think I need to just be alone for a little while," she told him, knowing that he had already figured out where this was going.

"Why?" he asked.

"I - I kind of jumped into this from someone else, and I feel like I'm not even sure what I want anymore," she told him.

"I thought you wanted me," he said, and she reconsidered for a single moment. She had wanted him until Draco had kissed her, and she had been suddenly confused by what it meant that she had liked it so very much, too much, and that was why she was ending things. She needed to figure out where her head was at.

"I did, maybe I do, I don't know, but I need to just focus on me and what my next step is before I worry about who I'm going to take it with," she said.

"You don't think I'll support you? Hermione" - he moved in, placing his hand on her elbow - "I know that you are going to be incredible. I can't wait to watch you light up the Ministry. I want to be there by your side helping you do it."

She shook her head, smiling weakly. "I don't even know if I want to work at the Ministry right now. Everything is so … wrong."

"Why haven't you said anything about this before?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

"Why haven't you asked? Ever?" she asked, suddenly realizing that the thing that drew her to him, also separated them. "Everyone asks. Everyone wants to know. They all whisper, or write me letters, or debate my effectiveness during the war, or want to interview me. Everyone wants an in with Harry, or a foot up, but you never even mention it, you never even act like it happened to me. Doesn't that seem odd to you?"

"I thought - well - I thought that you were moving forward, planning to use your name for something that mattered," he said, his expression full of confusion.

"What?"

"You could do so much with who you are. It would be a waste not to use it," he explained.

"Is that how you see me?" she asked, her image of him shattering before her eyes.

"What? No, of course not, I like you, I just -" he stuttered over his words, struggling to get out whatever he was attempting to say.

"You just like what I could do for you also?" Her voice was hollow and low.

"No, I mean, I can't say it wasn't appealing in the beginning, but now, that doesn't matter. But, that doesn't change -" He was talking quickly, too quickly.

"If I wasn't me, if I hadn't helped Harry, would you have been interested in me at all?" She sounded unnatural even to herself.

"Of course, I would have!" he demanded.

"Really? Because that isn't what you just said," she told him, suddenly finding her voice again.

"You're twisting my words," he insisted.

"No, I'm not. You said that in the beginning, my name was what drew you to me. I thought that you actually liked me."

"I did. I do. I don't want to take a break," he said.

"Don't worry, it's not a break," Hermione snapped. Her hand reached for the door, her blood pumping in her ears. Shame and anger flooded her.

"Hermione!" Ben reached for her, his hand gripping her arm gently.

"Don't touch me," she spat as she pulled the door open. The slam of it shutting behind her seemed so loud she was sure that everyone in the castle would have heard it. She tried not to run. She tried to take quick, steady steps towards the nearest bathroom. She tried not to cry, but tears were streaming down her face long before she found solace behind the stall door.

She was an idiot. Ron wanted Lavender. Ben wanted her name. Draco wanted … well, she had no idea, but he was just as lost and broken as she was, so there was no way he was thinking straight. She leaned her head against the wall as she cried. This had been the last thing she had expected to come out of this. Hermione had known that it might be hard to end this, that it might be difficult to put some space between them, but ultimately she thought they maybe still end up together. Ben had been sweet and charming while sharing her interests and those old ambitions that she was no longer quite sold on, but now …

She could be over reacting. She could be making too much of his words, but he had been so indifferent towards the war and her past. She had allowed herself to imagine that this was because he was different, not because he was more concerned with how those incidents could affect his future.

She wiped at her sodden face pointlessly. She knew that she had been right to tell him that it was over, that she needed to focus on herself. Now, more than ever, she needed to figure out what she wanted and what her life would look like after Hogwarts, and she needed to do this without getting swept up in smooth words and tender embraces.

Tuesday, October 13th, 1998

"So, I wanted to ask you about something," Lavender said. Her head rested on his chest as her foot slid gently up and down his jeans under the warm blanket he had draped over them both.

"Okay," Ron leaned down to touch his lips to her hair. He breathed in the sweet scent of her shampoo as he kissed her softly on the top of her head.

"Parvati is working for Witch Weekly." Her hand was on his abdomen, drawing circles across his shirt.

"Yeah, you said. How's it going?" he asked, more out of a desire to be polite than anything else. Lavender had reluctantly told him that Parvati wasn't crazy about them getting back together, so Ron wasn't really that crazy about Parvati at the moment. He could understand her hesitation, surely, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"Really well, actually. She loves it." Lavender turned her head to look up at him, smiling shyly. Her neck was healing quite well now, but he had nearly stopped seeing it. Well, that was a lie, but he didn't really see the scars as much as he felt the pain of her having them at all in his gut.

"So, what does that have to do with asking me something?" he prompted.

"She mentioned that the magazine is looking for some freelance writers. People who write articles about anything they want and submit it. I thought, well, I'm just sitting here all day, and I thought I might try it out." Her cheeks blushed softly.

"Writing? Is that something you're interested in?" he asked, surprised at this twist. He'd never really pegged Lavender as a writer. She was so personable, he had always assumed she would want to do something with people.

"Well, Parvati mostly writes about gossip and advice. It's a bit of, well" - Lavender paused as if to shift directions - "she's good at it. I don't think I would want to write anything like that, but I could maybe write about something else. Something that matters."

"Like what?" Ron asked. He wasn't really aware of Witch Weekly being big on things that mattered. He was fairly sure they mostly covered the kind of frivolous nonsense Parvati seemed to be focusing on.

"I don't know. I guess it's silly," she turned her head back down, laying in on his chest again.

"Lav," Ron said, his voice apologetic as he lifted her chin gently with his fingers. "I don't think it's silly. If you have something to say, then try and write it. I'm just not sure about the audience."

"I mean, I just have this in with Parvati there," Lavender shrugged.

"Have you written anything yet?" He asked sliding his fingers gently down her neck.

"A bit. I'm not really ready to share yet."

"Would you let me read it when you're done?" he asked.

"Uh," she flushed again, pushing herself up to sit cross-legged beside him. "I guess I could."

"You don't have to," he assured her.

"No, I will." Lavender pulled at her hair nervously. "It's just something I've never done before. What if I'm shit?"

"You won't be shit." Ron leaned in placing a hand on her waist. "I'm glad you're going to do this," he told her before he kissed her softly.

Tuesday, October 13th, 1998

By Friday, they had fallen back into their old rhythm, well nearly. On Monday, things had been tense. Something had seemed to be off about her beyond just the jitters of getting back into their tutoring routine, and he had been dying to ask her if it was something to do with Ben, but he refrained, sure that it would just upset her if it was. Slowly, over the course of the week, she seemed to lighten as if she was letting go of something and by the end of the week, there was definitely something different about the way they interacted.

She let her eyes linger too long on his hand when he reached across the desk to point something out and ask a question. She smiled just a little more than she had before. Her knee bumped his when she leaned in to reach across the desk for a book, and something flashed across her face. She was thinking about it. He was certain. He had told her he wouldn't bring it up, but he was sure that she was thinking about him kissing her. He was sure as hell thinking about it. He had no idea what it meant that he wanted to kiss Granger, or that he was just a bit smug about her breaking it off with that idiot, or that he was wondering exactly how long she needed before it would be acceptable to press her up against a wall again.

He was trying not to think too much about the logistics of what that desire meant, and instead was focusing on the desire itself. It was much more simple to admit that he wanted to kiss her, that he enjoyed the way her thigh felt through her skirt. These were physical urges, urges that she had shared and reciprocated. Things beyond this were messy and difficult and did not need to be thought about right now. Granger was a girl, nearly a woman, and she was fit enough if you ignored the atrocities of her hair. And he was a boy, nearly a man, and he hadn't found himself this close to a girl for this long in ages. He hadn't found himself of sound mind enough to care about a girl in ages.

So, he was trying to be patient, to let her do whatever it was that she was trying to do, and he was trying to focus on his lessons. He was trying to think about letting his hand brush across her breast or his lips just below her ear, but it was nearly impossible when she bit her lip and looked expectantly at him like that. "You're not paying any bloody attention to me," she said.

"Of course, I am," he told her, indignant.

"You were staring at my ear," she huffed.

"No, I don't think I would do that because you were clearly talking about the moving pictures you're always going on about." He was very good at multitasking. He could handle listening to her while he thought about other things.

"Always going on about? This is for your stupid exam we're preparing for," she snapped.

"Did you just call an exam stupid?" he laughed.

"No - I meant-" She looked horrified by the idea that he may think she thought any exam was stupid.

"You think I'm stupid then?" he asked, teasing her.

She groaned. "Do you think you could go back to being afraid of being a smart ass?"

"No, probably not."

She sighed heavily and brushed a hand across her brow as if in search of a rogue piece that was bothering her. "I already know about movies. If you aren't listening there isn't any point."

"I was listening. You were talking about the transition from black and white footage to color."

"Perhaps if you looked at the book and not my ear you would gain the added benefit of seeing the differences," she told him, pointing at the images in the text.

"I studied the chapter last night. I saw the pictures," he told her.

"Then I'm not sure why you need me," she snapped.

"You know I need you, Granger." He smirked, and she blushed predictably, but it was still enjoyable to watch the flush creep up her cheeks as she moved her eyes back to the book.

"Just try to pay attention," she admonished.

"Will do," he said softly, leaning in closer to look at her book even though his was open before him.


A/N: So … about Ben … I don't like him very much, so you can stop saying how wonderful he is now. HAHA. Kidding … kidding … but really. I'm glad this is officially over. He's really not a terrible guy, he's just so out of touch with the reality that Hermione is living in.

Also, in a review of the last chapter Somnus Verus said that they imagine Ben with a creeper stache and this literally made my week. It was the best ever. Bahahaha.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

xoxo

Meg