Pushing roughly against his chest, Hermione tried to keep her expression blank as she took a step away from McLaggen. The wizard in question lazily tried to lift his eyes away from her lips, and the cocky grin pulling his mouth back to the point she could see his canines sticking through didn't help the situation in the least. She clamped her jaw tight and straightened her back, pulling herself to her full height once again. Her hair was in disarray, her dress was now rumpled, and she wanted to wash her swollen lips with soap and bleach.
"Feisty little one you are Granger," McLaggen drawled. "You take away that brainish book-worm exterior, and you're a whole new girl underneath."
He accentuated his point by dragging his eyes down her figure and briefly pausing at the dip in her dress towards her breast.
Hermione wasn't sure what it was at that point that was keeping her from slapping the stupid smirk off his face and hexing his arse into the next century. She could feel the bile rising to the back of her throat, but she couldn't decipher whether it was from the anger she felt towards the egotistical wizard in front of her, or disgust at her own stupidity for taking the chance to get back at Ron with the worst possible choice.
"I told you that that was enough, McLaggen," she gritted out between clenched teeth. "When I tell you to stop, that means stop."
"Oh come on now, don't be like that," McLaggen chuckled, taking a step towards her to close the distance again. Before Hermione could take one back, he hooked an arm around her back and ran a hand up her side. "I can tell you want this, Hermione."
She wanted to crawl out of her own skin. "Cormac. Let go of me."
"We're just having a bit of fun is all," he muttered, his eyes flitting down towards her lips again.
Behind him, Hermione could hear the music and laughter of Slughorn's annual Christmas party in full swing. Drinks, dancing, and a night that she was meant to enjoy with a few of her friends and professors, while also getting back at a certain red-head for the ache he had caused in her heart the past few weeks, had completely and utterly backfired. By Merlin's beard, she was confident that mistletoe was more of a curse for those unfortunate enough to be caught under it rather than a fun-filled tradition. A curse that so happened to include the most self-centered and proud wizards with hands that felt like Devil's snare.
"When we're done here, who knows? I'm sure I could find a way to whisk you up to the boys dormitory," he whispered, leaning in close to try and brush his lips against hers. "Or maybe even an empty corridor. I'm really not picky - "
Jerking her head backwards, Hermione yanked her arm out of McLaggen's grip and gave him a look that could have set fire to the whole of Hogwarts. Although she had word after word she wanted to spit at him for the disgraceful and pig-biggotted mannerisms he had, Hermione physically bit down on her tongue and took the window that was given to her.
As a moment of surprise, anger, and confusion flitted across McLaggen's face, Hermione shoved past him from the rather secluded corner and bolted out into the party. She didn't slow her pace or look behind her as she meandered her way around the edge of the room, ducking her face away from the majority of the crowd.
Hermione didn't even have to look in a mirror to know she must have looked like she had just gotten into a tussle with the Giant Squid.
Finally reaching the far edge of the room, Hermione ducked behind a set of nearly transparent curtains against a windowed alcove. There wasn't much cover to go by, but it certainly gave her the opportunity to pull herself back together.
Leaning back against the cool, stone wall, Hermione released a heavy sigh and momentarily let her eyes slip shut. This was a mistake. It had all been a mistake from the moment she went to go ask Cormac if he would be interested in going with her to the party. Obviously it hadn't just been the party he was interested in.
Again, the feeling to physically rip her skin away to relieve the feeling of him pressed against her was all too appealing.
The rustling of a curtain brought her back to the present and her eyes shot open. For a moment, Hermione was terrified McLaggen had followed her to a spot that she mistakenly realized was much more "private" than their previous one. But relief like no other overcame her when she immediately recognized her best friend.
"Hermione, what are you doing?" Harry asked, his brow furrowing in confusion as he took in her appearance. "And what happened to you?"
"I've just escaped," Hermione hissed, releasing a quick breath. "I mean - uh…I left Cormac under the mistletoe."
His name itself left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she dipped her head forward to see if there was any sign of him. Through the thin curtains, there was no sign yet of a wizard looking for his snogging partner.
"Cormac!" he huffed. "That's really who you invited?"
Not seeing any other way out but explaining the truth why she picked a self-centered quidditch player as a date to a Christmas party, Hermione brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face and crossed her arms over her dress. "I thought it would annoy Ron the most."
At Harry's pointed stare, she quickly added, "Trust me, he's honestly got more tentacles than a snarfalump plant."
"Wishing you had asked Ron then?"
Hermione's worried gaze shot over to his, hardening under his words but softening all the same. "Whether I had or not, if it slipped your notice he currently has his eye on someone else," Hermione replied stiffly. "Besides, it's a bit late to be considering that now. All things considered I think I would have rather gone with Grawp than go back and spend another minute around McLaggen. One of them at least seems like more of a gentleman who won't - oh God, here he comes!"
Just as Harry looked away in the direction Hermione had gestured, she slipped underneath one of the curtains as Cormac ducked back into the alcove. A small part of her felt guilty for leaving Harry behind to deal with the older Gryffindor himself.
Emphasis on a small part.
Swerving in and out of witches and wizards chatting amongst themselves, Hermione wasn't even sure where she was going. The last twenty minutes of the party had left her in such a disarray, both by her disheveled looks and the ongoing withstanding of trying to keep up with Cormac's "glory stories" about his amazing saves in quidditch.
Considering finding one of her fellow peers within the sea of strangers around her, or jumping into any conversation at that, Hermione caught sight of the main entrance out of the corner of her eye. She made a beeline straight for it and didn't let herself breathe until she had quickly opened the door and firmly shut it behind her.
Silence fell over the corridor as Hermione released another sigh. The quiet muffle of the party leaked through beneath the door and slowly disappeared as she pushed away from it and started towards the end of the hallway.
A restart on the evening was exactly what she needed. No McLaggen, no dingy revenge date, no disgusting snogging. Just a peaceful and enjoyable night with her classmates, professors, and a few entrees to finish it off. Quite a Christmas it had turned out to be.
Scanning the few doors as she passed by, Hermione silently thanked her memory for having caught sight of the bathroom that she and Cormac had passed prior to entering the party. Quickly slipping inside, Hermione headed for one of the many sinks lined against the wall and looked back into her reflection. Or a rather disgruntled one.
Slightly grimacing at her appearance, Hermione reached up and unclipped the few pins she had used to secure her hair. It puffed back out into its usual bushy and curly state, loose strands falling in front of her face. Brushing them aside, she moved on to the state of her dress and the rumples gathering around the waist and top of the sleeve. Not as bad as expected.
Above all else, she thanked Merlin for having given her the good sense to use as little makeup as she could. Although her lips were still a little swollen and still a bit too pink, nothing else held any indication that she had been caught in a rather uncomfortable and unwanted snog under the mistletoe.
Hermione shook her head as she gave herself one final glance over. "Not as bad as it could have been," she muttered.
Stepping back out into the corridor again, Hermione made a move to head back to the party's entrance and endure the rest of the evening to the best of her abilities.
The quiet approaching footsteps around the corner stopped her in her tracks.
Looking back over her shoulder, Hermione's brows drew together in confusion as she listened to the steady beat of footsteps against the school's walls. Most of the staff were back at Slughorn's party, and students weren't allowed outside of their dormitories at such a late hour. Her prefect duties and personal curiosity kicking in, Hermione turned the opposite way of the party and carefully hurried to the front of the hallway.
Being sure to keep quiet, she shrank back against the wall as she stopped just short of rounding the corner. Hoping to catch whoever was approaching a little off guard, her momentary plan was thrown astray as the footsteps came to a sudden halt. The only indication her mystery person hadn't disappeared was the near silent rustle of clothing and an audible sigh. In turn, silence fell through the halls once again and Hermione chanced a glance around the corner.
She hadn't realized she was holding her breath until it caught in her throat.
Slumped against one of the alcoves lining the corridor, the dim lighting reflecting off the window gave her the final confirmation she needed.
Malfoy.
There was no mistaking his head of platinum blonde hair or the pair of silver eyes trained on the window. Seated on the small stone jut-out of the wall acting as a bench, he was clad in his usual all-black suit and an icy exterior. He paid no mind to his surroundings or looked around for other potential prefects that would catch him in the act.
Her brows drew further together as she waited for him to do something - anything that held any indication that Malfoy was up to something for being out of bed so late at night.
But instead of whipping out his wand and practicing an unforgivable curse, or reciting the Death Eater code of conduct as Harry seemed to think, he simply released a slow and measured breath and leaned his head back against the stone wall. His eyes slipping shut, it almost looked like he had fallen asleep.
Hermione felt her frown ease away as she hesitantly leaned further out from around her hiding space. While she knew it must have appeared incredibly weird that Hermione Granger was watching another boy in the dead of night sleeping on the other side of a hallway, she felt that tug of curiosity once again.
Her eyes trained on his face, Hermione let herself look over the few things she had berated herself for noticing over the past few months since the start of school.
Draco Malfoy was still the inevitable prat he had been since their first year, but something was…different. Being able to see more-or-less up close, she took note of the heavy rings lining the undersides of his eyes, the sag in his shoulders like he hadn't slept in days or even weeks, the near unnatural color of his skin. He had always had a pale tone to his skin, but he had continuously appeared ill day in and day out since the start of the school year.
Mentally taking note of what she could, Hermione almost choked on her own air as she was hit with the realization that she had just been staring uninterrupted at the ferret boy who had done nothing but torment her for the past five years.
Shaking her head in disbelief at her own mind and brushing away the feeling of what she thought could have been concern for him, Hermione cast one last glance at the blonde wizard and made a move to turn back down the corridor.
She hadn't expected him to be looking back.
Surprised she didn't get whiplash as she shot back behind the corner, Hermione internally cursed herself. It had been a stupid idea to check who had been out at such a late hour to begin with, but it was another thing entirely for her to wait around and receive Malfoy's backlash. She was in no mood to deal with two stuck-up, snobby wizards in the course of a single evening.
Ready to dart back down to Slughorn's party and pretend the interaction (if she could even call it that) never happened, his icy drawl held her in place.
"I never took you as one to stalk people, Granger."
Clenching her teeth, Hermione's hands balled themselves into fists on their own accord. She should simply keep walking, ignore the comment, and go on like she normally did around him; pay no mind to the mangy ferret, and he won't pay any mind to you.
"Then again, I wouldn't put it past you if it meant the Golden Girl could get a few points on Potter's good side."
Her nails dug into her palms as she spun around, still hidden from view around the corner. He made it sound like she was his pet, the prissy, know-it-all friend of The Boy Who Lived who was only ever there to help with homework. A retort bubbled up in the back of her throat, begging to say something snappish back and leave him to wallow in the dark corridor. It was there on the tip of her tongue, and she physically bit down on it to stop herself.
No. She would not give him the satisfaction of riling her up tonight. The evening had already been a major flop, and Hermione wasn't ready to let Malfoy let it sink in any further. She was never one to back down in the face of adversity and this was no different.
Taking a deep breath and slowly unraveling her hands, Hermione held her chin high as she stepped out from her hiding spot and tucked her hands behind her back.
"As far as I know, taking a stroll through the castle isn't a crime," Hermione replied. She didn't waver as his eyes flicked back to her, one pale eyebrow rising ever so slightly as if he were surprised she actually owned up to getting caught. "Being out after hours is another matter, though. What are you doing out of bed?"
Malfoy didn't answer her. His gaze momentarily flicking down to her dress, he returned it to her face just as quickly as an impassive and near bored expression replaced his cold mask. "I could ask you the same thing. But at least one of us is taking a bit of fresh air with style; where were you going dressed like that?"
Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes at his childish remark regarding her clothes. "A Christmas party, if you must know."
"For that old slug?" he sneered, cocking his head to the side. "They're apparently letting anyone into those clubs nowadays."
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Hermione snapped. Mentally scolding herself, she prepared for whatever insult he would hurl her way about them allowing Muggle-borns into wizarding parties.
"Earlier I saw Cormac McLaggen making his merry way over there in dress robes," Malfoy scoffed. "That should be enough to answer."
Hermione's brows shot up in surprise when no remark came after that. Nothing about letting filthy Mudbloods into the Slug Club, or in regards to her mucking up the celebration with just her presence alone.
"I - I suppose," she replied lamely, not sure what else to say. "That at least gives me reason for being out so late. You being a prefect doesn't exclude you from being out of bed after hours."
Malfoy didn't try to hide his languid eye roll, his gaze fixing itself back on the window. When he didn't say anything and made it clear he was going back to ignoring her presence there, Hermione released a quick huff and crossed her arms back in front of her chest. Opening her mouth to retort that he should get to bed for the sake that it was getting incredibly late, she clamped it shut just as fast.
"Granger!"
From down the hallway of the direction of the party, Hermione jumped forward against the wall and hid herself from view. McLaggen's voice echoed off the walls as he repeated her name again.
She wasn't about to risk getting caught again by peeking around the corner, especially when the approaching footsteps were enough to know he wasn't going to simply give up on his search for his long-lost date.
Whirling back around to look for any hiding spots, the only thing she managed to find was a confused, shocked, and mildly smug looking Draco Malfoy sitting comfortably in the alcove. From her angle, the only thing she could see was him, not the window providing what little moon light there was to begin with on the other side of the wall…
Her plan clicking together, she didn't give it a second thought of who she was running to or why she felt he would ever do anything to help her. Despite him jumping back and scowling over at her when she slid into the far corner of the alcove next to the window, he didn't say anything at first.
Now opposite of Malfoy on the stone bench by only a couple of feet, Hermione frantically gestured for him not to say a word and held her finger tight against her lips. After a brief moment of confusion, Malfoy's face nearly lit up with recognition and his signature smirk curled the corner of his lips up. If looks could kill, Hermione was sure he would have been nothing more than an ash heap.
"Come on, Granger, come on out! We've still got the whole night ahead of us," McLaggen yelled, his tone dropping on the last note, hinting to something much more than just returning to the party with him.
Malfoy's smirk widened and he cocked a single pale brow at her. Hermione only shook her head and pressed herself against the cool panes of the glass window. Holding her breath and refraining from squeezing her eyes shut, she watched in mild astonishment as Draco's cool mask slipped back into place, his smirk gone and his expression blank. The only indication he gave her was a quick flick of his gaze her way before it returned to the window.
She heard McLaggen's footsteps finally round the corner and pause.
"Hey, uh, Malfoy," he started, the cocky confidence dripping from his voice. "You haven't happened to see any witches running around here unaccompanied would you? Brunette, to be precise."
Malfoy didn't even look at her as he turned his head away and stared at McLaggen. For a terrifying and dreadful moment, she was sure he was about to tell her date straight on that she was hiding just on the other side of the wall.
"Lost your date?" he drawled, eyes locked on McLaggen as the wizard gave a quiet chuckle.
"Not exactly. I think she just ran off to get a few things sorted out," McLaggen replied. "A slippery little minx she is."
Hermione felt herself physically lurch as she covered her mouth with a hand. Malfoy's expression didn't change as he ran a hand through his hair. "Likes to work her mouth, too?"
She knew he could feel her glare burning into the side of his head.
"Most definitely," McLaggen assured. "She's certainly got a bag of brains on her, but it's nice to use it with other things, too. I've got to say, if you ever catch one as feisty as this one, you'll certainly find yourself set for a while at the very least."
Hermione's last nerve nearly snapped in half, and she wondered yet again what was holding her back from throwing in a spell or two that would make him grow a pig snout or sprout weeds from his ears.
"So…have you seen her?"
Malfoy didn't move a muscle as he seemed to stare down Cormac. A muscle in his jaw barely gave a tick as his eyes shifted over to what would have been the window. Her shadow creased over his figure and ran up to the middle of his chest, and if she would have moved, there was no doubt McLaggen would have found her. A pair of piercing silver eyes held her in place as Malfoy held his stare with hers.
There was a flash of something beneath his eyes, and it was gone before Hermione could even begin to decipher it.
It could have been an elaborate trick to think she had escaped Cormac's clutches for the night only to be thrown back into his waiting tentacles. She wouldn't have put it past him as it seemed like the very thing that any ferret would do.
But Malfoy released a slow sigh and gave his head a single shake. Flicking his gaze back to Cormac, he gave a firm, "No. I haven't."
"Alright then," McLaggen scoffed. "That's all you had to say, mate."
Hermione heard his dress robes rustle behind him as he turned on the spot and rounded the corner once again. His footsteps echoed behind him as she and the blonde sat in silence, neither moving again until his heavy steps and cries for her to come back to the party disappeared.
Slowly removing the hand from her mouth, Hermione released all the air she had been holding in with a wave of relief. Leaning forward so her elbows rested against her knees, she held her head in her hands and bent forward with a heavy sigh. She rubbed the tips of her fingers against her temples, already fighting off a headache long called for.
"Going to start with the dramatics and then the explanation?" Malfoy asked, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing down at her. "Or will I forever be curious why McLaggen wants to shag you?"
Peeking up at him beneath her fingers, she fought off the urge to scowl or grimace at the notion. "I'd prefer not to scar myself with that thought - ever."
"Fair enough," Malfoy conceded, and he left it at that.
Brushing aside a strand of blonde hair, Malfoy turned his face away from hers and focused on the corridor wall. The silence that lapsed between them gave her the time she needed to pull herself back together. One "McLaggen miss" didn't mean she was off the hook for the night, but having found a way to avoid him for as long as possible, she was now confident in her chances. Mimicking his position and rising up to lean her head back against the wall, Hermione felt her eyes drawing themselves back over to the blonde wizard across from her.
"Thank you," she said quietly. If he had expected her to say anything, it seemed it hadn't been that.
Malfoy's gaze snapped back over to hers, brows inching together in a frown in what she could only assume was utter confusion. "What?"
"Thank you, for sending McLaggen off," Hermione explained. "If it isn't completely obvious, he's not really someone I'm in the mood to see right now. So, just…thanks, I guess."
Hermione knew her first year self would have had a laugh seeing her now, thanking her friends' tormentor for sending off an unwanted date.
Malfoy seemed to be processing the same information, and rather than reply, he only gave her a curt nod. Returning it with her own, Hermione turned to glance at the overview of the distant forest clad in darkness. Sticking against the window's panes were small snowflakes that barely stayed long enough for her to recognize them. All throughout the distance, a fresh snowfall was covering the ground just in time for Christmas. At the moment, though, it really didn't feel like that.
"How about that explanation now?"
Whipping back around to stare at the blonde wizard, it was Hermione's turn to look utterly confused at his question.
"Cormac McLaggen of all people just came chasing after you from a professor's Christmas party in the middle of the night, and you don't think that deserves a bit of an explanation?" Malfoy drawled, his usual and familiar demeanor momentarily slipping back into place.
Despite the heavy circles under his eyes, she could still see the glint of the old Draco Malfoy there.
"He summed it up well enough, don't you think?" Hermione grumbled, fighting back on an embarrassed flush. Along with Ron, Malfoy was quite honestly one of the last people she had hoped would eventually find out about her and McLaggen's mistletoe incident.
"I may get why he wants to see you now, but you obviously don't fancy him back," he replied with a hint of false innocence. "Just not in the mood to talk?"
"Like you said, I don't think talking was what he precisely had in mind," Hermione huffed. He looked all too intrigued and what she could have labeled as amused at her fiasco that, knowing Draco Malfoy for the past five school years, he was not going to let a story like this slide, nonetheless it having involved her. Crossing her arms over her chest, Hermione held his stare and continued. "I invited Cormac as my date to Slughorn's Christmas party. While we were there I managed to esca - I mean, left him underneath the, er…mistletoe. I honestly think it would have been easier to get out of Devil's Snare than to go back and…."
Her voice trailed off as a flush crept up her cheeks. The small smirk spreading across Malfoy's face did nothing to help.
"And to finish snogging your McLaggen senseless?" the blonde finished for her. His smirk only widened as Hermione shot a firm glare his way, warning him to tread lightly on his next choice of words. "But I'm rather surprised, Granger. You've skipped down from famous quidditch players to the first tosser you could find up in Gryffindor tower. Potter really turned you down?"
"I never even asked him, Malfoy," Hermione snapped back in reply. "And Cormac wasn't my first option, he was just - Merlin's beard, why am I even telling you this?"
Letting out an exasperated chuckle, she drew a hand down the side of her face and rested her chin against the palm of her hand. She was sitting in a dark corridor with Draco Malfoy after fleeing from a terrible revenge date gone wrong while the one that truly owned her heart was canoodling another girl up in Gryffindor tower. By the irony of the situation, she shook her head and smiled. What had happened to her?
"He was just what, available?" Malfoy asked, looking in no way convinced at her answer. "Of all the people you could have picked, McLaggen was one of the ones on your list?"
"No, not initially," Hermione conceded, sighing at the reminder as to why she had chosen that specific date in the first place.
"Well since you couldn't go with Potter, was Weasley not available then?"
She knew it was meant as a question to brush off the shoulder, and like nothing was wrong with the fact that the person she had come to love as more than a friend over the years had his eyes and feelings set on another girl. Not even having realized a small smile had momentarily curled her lips up, it fell just as quickly, the reminder settling in along with the ache. The same one she felt the night Lavender first kissed Ron in the Gryffindor common room, and the one she felt every time she saw the two together.
Malfoy seemingly didn't miss the motion either, and as Hermione quickly darted her eyes away from his, she scolded herself for giving him the exact answer he needed.
"Weasley." It was less of a question than a statement that she had gone through the trouble of seeking Cormac McLaggen out knowing that it would surely lend a blow to Ron's ego. It didn't take an astounding genius to put the two together, and Malfoy so happened to be the one to match her grades nearly perfectly in every class. "It's because of Weasley?"
"I…I thought it would annoy Ron the most," Hermione mumbled, hating herself for admitting such a vulnerable thing to him. Word after word was slipping out before she could stop it, and she was practically handing over information he could use at a later date on a silver platter. "I'm sure you've heard. Or if it's not already clear, he's got his eye on someone else. It was a stupid plan and I don't even know why I did it to begin with."
It was hard not to notice. Every chance they were getting, she would catch him and Lavender sneaking off to the nearest hiding spot for a quick snog. The thought alone curled her stomach in and tightened the back of her throat. As the familiar burn behind her eyes set in, she clenched her hands beneath her folded arms and forced herself to bite back the tears. She would never live down the day she cried in front of Draco Malfoy.
"Seeing as you obviously went through with it, there's not much to do about it now," Malfoy sighed, running another hand through his hair. "Other than run right back into McLaggen's waiting arms or hope the Weasel eventually notices you making goo-goo eyes at him."
The burn of tears behind Hermione's eyes turned to ones of anger in a snap. Through gritted teeth, she bit out, "Don't call him that. And for the record - "
"My apologies, Granger," Malfoy interrupted. "I meant to say right-foul git."
She practically felt her last nerve snap in two.
"How dare you!" Hermione hissed, throwing aside her previous notion that she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her so riled up. "Ron is one of the farthest people from it. Sure he's not perfect just like everyone else in the world, but when it comes to the best sides of him he is one of the most incredible people I've met. He looks out for his friends and family in whatever way he can, especially when it comes to them being pushed around by snobbish and narcissistic bullies who can't even look by someone else's exterior. Ron has shown me time and time again how he's not afraid to step up when something's wrong, and even though he may be a bit immature about it sometimes, it shows that he cares and wants to protect the people that he loves. And since I first met him, he's changed more than I ever could have expected into the person that he is today, and that gives you no right to go and backhand him for being a decent person towards other people, including the person he fancies which I am not!"
A tear streaked down the side of her cheek and Hermione frantically brushed it away. During her rant, she hadn't even realized she had gotten up from the bench and was practically standing over Malfoy who had ceased to say anything. The only indication of what he was feeling about it was when his eyes widened ever so slightly, and even then, she wasn't sure if it was in shock that she was raising her voice at him or if it was because he was just amused by the whole endeavor.
Taking a steady breath in, Hermione took a step back and slumped onto the stone bench again. She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the edge of the bench to the point she could see her knuckles turning white. Malfoy still remained silent, and she was quite honestly afraid to look up.
She had just made a complete fool of herself in front of him giving a bloody speech about the wonders of Ron Weasley. There was no doubt that he was all of those things, but it was the fact that it had spilled over to the point she was on the verge of breaking down over him all over again in front of the ferret boy himself. Hermione knew it was near shameful.
"Do you think he's worth it then?"
Her eyes flew open again as she sought out silver ones. The question was ridiculous and any sensible person would know the answer just by looking at her.
"What?" she asked quietly, hating the way her voice cracked at the end.
"Weasley." Malfoy's expression remained blank, and a small part of her was envious of how easily he could conceal his emotions. "Do you think he's worth it?"
"I - well - yes, I mean I think - what does that have to do with - "
Hermione huffed out a quick breath and brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face. Malfoy cocked a single blonde brow at her again and waited for her response. Glancing down, she found the edge of her skirt incredibly interesting and brought a hand up to tangle her fingers in the fabric.
With a heavy sigh, she looked back up at Malfoy and couldn't believe what she was about to say.
"Back in our fourth year, a little while before the Yule Ball and before Viktor had asked me to go with him, I was secretly hoping that Ron would ask me to be his date. Originally, I told myself it was just so that I could go with someone that I knew and it wouldn't be an awkward mess. But the more I thought about it, and the more I realized there were other reasons besides just going as friends, I admitted that I did fancy him as more than just…well, friends. But when Ron saw me with Viktor at the dance and he acted the way he did, for a while I just kind of shoved them all aside and we went on as if nothing exactly happened. My feelings for him started back up again a little last year and over summer break. But I thought this year might have been different; I thought maybe I could finally tell him. Instead, he found someone else."
Swallowing back the threatening lump rising in her throat, Hermione continued. "It still hurts to see them together, him and Lavender. I've tried to tell myself before that I can move on, and I've tried to get under his skin to get back at him for the way I feel. It's selfish, I know, but seeing Ron with her just…hurts. It really hurts. And I want it all to just stop."
A stray tear dripped off the bottom of her chin, and before anymore could fall, Hermione wiped at her eyes again. It was absolutely ridiculous how she couldn't pull herself together when she talked about him with someone else.
Glancing up, she saw Malfoy's eyes glued to the stone bench rather than at her. A muscle in his jaw ticked again as he looked to be contemplating something to say. Hermione readied herself for the ridicule or the laughter, him saying she was being nothing but naive and needed to get her affairs back in order. There was never a time, she quickly realized when befriending Ron and Harry, that Malfoy didn't despise them in some way for something they usually couldn't control. Harry's scar, Ron's fortune, her blood.
After a long moment of silence, she heard the blonde release a heavy sigh.
"This is going to sound completely ridiculous, especially coming from me," Malfoy started carefully. "You may not even listen to what I'm going to say for all you care."
His gaze flitted back to meet hers, and what felt like the hundredth time that night, Hermione found herself locked in place as she waited for him to continue.
"I think you already know I haven't liked Weasley since day one," he began. "You know there's a lot between us and our families. But besides that point, and I'm saying this with absolute certainty, that Weasley is as blind as that owl he's got and stupider than any troll that's managed to find its way into Hogwarts."
Her eyes hardened again at the insult, but he continued before she could cut in.
"Pretty close to a git if I've ever met one, and that's saying something knowing who you're talking to," he scoffed.
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to refrain from cracking a small smile. With what appeared to be a bit of reluctance, the blonde wizard sighed and gave the smallest shake of his head. "If Weasley's running off with some other girl right now, knowing you're off at some Christmas party with a date you don't even want to be with, and are now talking to the Draco Malfoy in an empty hallway, I can tell you in all honesty that he isn't worth it. You care for Weasley in a way he apparently doesn't see yet; emphasis on my point that he's an absolute idiot. But if he can't see that, and he can't appreciate who he has as a friend, then - maybe, and I'm asking you not to stun me - maybe Weasley isn't worth crying over in an empty hallway. Maybe he isn't worth getting so upset over that you have to talk to Draco Malfoy."
Her gaze locked on his as she repeated his words through her head, each one sounding more and more obscure knowing they came from him.
"That's bizarrely wise coming from you, Malfoy," she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.
Malfoy only shrugged and angled his face towards the window. "Knowing if something is worth it is knowing whether or not to fight for it."
Hermione nodded in understanding but didn't follow his gaze. Instead, her eyes trained on his face, she watched as his expression darkened and his shoulders tensed. His head of blonde hair still leaned back against the wall, she didn't let herself blink in case the illusion broke. Just like she had seen before peeking around the corner of the corridor, the Malfoy sitting in front of her didn't look like the one she had grown familiar with.
Knowing if something is worth it is knowing whether or not to fight for it. She had a feeling he wasn't just talking about Ron anymore.
As if he had just taken off his mask again, or she finally saw the exhaustion he was trying to hide, Hermione could see the strain pulling down on him. He obviously wasn't sleeping well if the rings beneath his eyes were anything to go by, and the pale tint to his skin had to be a sign of lack of nutrition.
Something was pulling Draco Malfoy down off the pedestal he had held himself up on for so long.
In the very back of her mind, the tiny voice that had held the possibility in the air spoke out again. Her eyes drifted down to his covered wrists, underneath his suit jacket potentially hiding a mark that branded him as a follower of Voldemort. Harry insisted upon it since the day they caught him looking around in Borgin and Burkes - ironic now that she was talking to the boy she had claimed to be friends with as if they actually were.
But the thought alone made her queasy. Hermione didn't want to imagine someone so young, her age, taking an oath to a murdering, psycotic wizard who was ready to meet whatever ends necessary to meet his goal.
Blinking back to the present, Hermione carefully shifted in her seat and tried to meet his gaze again.
"Malfoy, are you alright?" she asked carefully, almost hesitant to get his response.
Silver eyes snapped back to hers, but she didn't let his suddenly cold demeanor waver her.
"I'm fine," he answered shortly.
Liar.
Hermione had spent enough long nights talking with Harry to spot a lie hidden beneath a frosty exterior. Although she had never paid attention to Malfoy's before now, and never seeing a reason to in the first place, it wasn't hard to pin-point that something was bothering him; seemingly always there and always slipping his mask back into place. He was practically a natural at it.
A harsh breeze blew at the window frame, blowing an abundance of snow rapping at the glass. The world outside was quickly turning into a winter wonderland to prepare for the coming holiday. Finally releasing her stare from his, Hermione turned her attention to the view and asked the next closest thing on her mind.
"How did you know what to say?" she asked quietly. "About knowing whether or not knowing something is worth it?
"It's just a lesson I've picked up over the years," Malfoy replied after a moment's pause. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his eyes still trained on her, waiting to see what she was really trying to get at. "Why?"
"Is there someone that's worth it to you right now?" Hermione didn't know why she was almost embarrassed to ask the question. She had gone on for nearly a minute-rant talking about the one she fancied. There was nothing to say she couldn't ask him about his.
Glancing back at him, she barely refrained a chuckle as his eyebrows shot up his forehead, clearly surprised that that was her follow up question. "Why so curious all of a sudden, Granger?"
"I just rambled on to you for the past five minutes about Ronald Weasley and my love life," Hermione shrugged. "It might not have been the most well-kept secret, but the tables can turn every once in a while, can't they?"
Malfoy shook his head, though she couldn't tell if it was in annoyance or amusement.
"No," he answered quietly, his eyes flickering down towards the ground. "No one special."
Hermione could feel the corners of her lips quirking up in a small smirk. The action wasn't missed on the blonde wizard and he instantly narrowed his eyes on her, suspicious as to what thoughts were running through her head.
Once again, she had spent enough time around Harry to pick up on when someone was lying - especially in regards to special someone's. His earlier affections for Cho weren't very well-kept under secrecy, and since having talked to him the night Ron and Lavender first got together, she admitted to knowing his new found feelings for Ginny. It wasn't an utter shock to her knowing Ginny's easy and fiery personality, but it was rather amusing to see Harry go pink in the face whenever she was brought up in conversation.
While Malfoy was much more efficient at hiding it, she didn't miss the pink glow to the very tips of his ears. Hermione shrugged innocently and she was met with his scowl and an eye-roll.
Silence filled the space between them, and oddly enough, Hermione found herself in the odd sense that it wasn't filled with the tension she might have expected. Dare she say, it was comfortable sitting across from him in silence, nothing but the quiet whistle of the wind whipping against the castle's walls.
The snow continued to fall, creating a thin layer of ice on the very corners of the window. Hermione watched as they clung more easily to the cooling panes and a dusting of white had already begun to form on the towers out below them.
With a pitch black sky spread out over the distant forest and the Black Lake, it was easy to think the world could come to a stand still. But she knew something was different about it - considering one of the facts that she was still sitting across from Draco Malfoy after abandoning her date to a Christmas party.
At the mental reminder, Hermione glanced over her shoulder and towards the end of the hallway. It was getting late, Harry might have been looking for her, and Cormac was most likely to jump her and drag her back to the mistletoe the moment she stepped foot back into the party. But she had to go back no less.
Releasing a slow sigh, Hermione glanced down at the hand fidgeting with the edge of her dress.
"Thank you," she muttered softly, barely above a whisper. Looking up to meet Malfoy's gaze, she could see the hint of confusion shining back at her. "For sending Cormac off earlier. I honestly don't know how the night would have gone otherwise - frankly, I don't really want to even try and imagine it. But also…saying all that stuff about knowing when it's worth it. Knowing when to fight for it. Again, I still think it's shocking that those words of wisdom came from you."
What she could have called a snort escaped Malfoy's lips as he angled his face again to look her head on. "That's certainly something I never thought I'd hear Hermione Granger say to me."
"What, that you can give sensible advice?"
"No," he grumbled with another roll of his eyes. "'Thank you'. It honestly sounds a bit weird."
"That's the part where you're supposed to say 'you're welcome'," Hermione shot back in reply, now her turn to raise a single brow at him.
"You're very welcome, Granger," Malfoy drawled, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking as she released a quiet scoff. Nonetheless, she turned her face away in time for him to miss the slightest hint of a smile.
Rising to her feet, Hermione dusted off the skirt of her dress even though it was already absent of dust. She stepped out of the alcove and back into the silent corridor, footsteps echoing off the walls as she made her way to round the corner and head back to Slughorn's festivities.
At the last moment, Hermione felt herself pause. Turning to look back at him, she noticed his distant and distracted gaze, lost in a world of his own thoughts and his own secrets. She knew she would have had to have been a stupid fool to think that in the course of a short conversation she would have all the answers to who the boy behind the mask of Draco Malfoy was.
He was still arrogant, still a prick, still the boy that had tormented her for years and earned the right to be turned into a mangy ferret. But that small voice in the back of her head, the one that always left room for wonder and curiosity, let way to the notion there was more to him than met the eye.
But people didn't refer to her as the Brightest Witch of Her Age for nothing - she was not stupid, and she was not a fool.
"Draco," Hermione exclaimed quietly. The blonde's eyes found hers like he had just been slapped clean across the face. "Happy Christmas."
Not waiting for a response or even giving him time to come up with an answer if he wanted to, Hermione turned on her heel and strode around the corner and out of sight.
Keeping her eyes ahead, Hermione let her mind wander back to the curious thread unraveling in her mind. There was no way to determine a single night of mildly-civil conversations meant a person had completely changed inside and out, if anything it was far from it. But the glimpses she had seen of the Malfoy he didn't put up front to the rest of the world made her wonder if there was more to him than he let on.
As she opened the door and the music and light of the party flooded back to her, she vaguely wondered if, at the end of the day, thinking or going after such things would be worth it.
Rooted to his spot, Draco stared at the space Granger had occupied only a minute or so before. She had wished him a happy holiday as a final parting and had used his first name.
It was the first time he had ever heard his first name uttered aloud by her, just the two of them alone nonetheless. The thought made his chest feel odd and his ears feel warm, but he shoved it aside as quickly as it had come.
No. He couldn't think such things. There was no one special he was fighting for now other than himself and his family. He had to keep going in order to keep all of them safe, in order to keep them alive.
To do that, he couldn't let a single decent evening with the one and only Golden Girl set him off course. He had a job to do, and this time, the price of him failing would have fatal consequences. Shaking his head in exasperation and freeing his thoughts of the past twenty minutes, Draco rose from the bench and immediately felt the familiar tug and drag of his exhaustion. Weeks with little to no sleep and having not eaten much were catching up with him in the worst ways, and he doubted it was about to improve anytime soon.
Stepping out of the alcove, he started down in the opposite direction Granger had disappeared.
Still, in the very back of his mind where he rarely allowed his thoughts to turn to, he thought back to their meeting and the conversation that had progressed. She could have left at any given time, but she stayed even after her so-called "date" went on to look for her. And he hated to admit that he mildly enjoyed it.
Mildly.
Shaking his head to free his thoughts again and clear his head, the one lingering voice repeated his own words back to him. Knowing if something is worth it is knowing whether or not to fight for it.
One evening with Potter's best know-it-all friend hadn't completely thrown off his schedule. He couldn't silence the voice in time or the tiniest smile that curled his lips up.
It was worth it.
Hey y'all!
After rewatching majority of the Harry Potter movies the other day, I couldn't get Slughorn's Christmas party from The Half-Blood Prince out of my head and I couldn't help but wonder "Hey, what if Draco and Hermione somehow started talking that night after he helps her out of a sticky situation and I can incorporate all of the Dramione moments I wish I had gotten in the series?" And thus how this little drabble came to be, which I hope y'all enjoyed. :)
Anyway, and as always, I hope you lovely readers out there have a fantastic morning, afternoon, evening, or night!
-Summerwinds
P.S. I apologize I haven't been more active recently on my account, seeing as life has plenty of curve-balls to throw people and mine have come majority over the summer in overpacked schedules - yay.