4th Year-
The first time he had shocked her she had been crying at the foot of the great hall, her gorgeous pink Yule Ball gown around her in ruffles and her heels lying forgotten at her side. After a while she had nearly forgotten what she had started crying about to begin with, but she couldn't stop the tears from falling no matter how hard she tried. She would occasionally hear the clip-clop of steps on the polished stone floor as people passed her by, usually not even stopping to glance her way. This was probably more of a blessing than anything else. But after a while she heard the footsteps of someone approaching and then they seemed to stop right in front of her.
"You're in my way Granger." She heard a sneer and could tell immediately who it was.
"Leave me alone Malfoy." She hiccuped. There was a pause at that and then when she next opened her eyes, he was crouched in front of her, the sneer replaced with what seemed to be momentary shock.
"Are you crying?"
"It's none of your business, now will you leave me alone!"
"Granger, if you knew the Durmstrang students had an early curfew why did you accept one?"
"This has nothing to do with Victor." She sneered back, drawing her arms further around herself. He stood up, but he did not move from his spot.
"It was Weaselby, wasn't it?"
She looked up at him and saw that this time he was looking at her completely serious. And then something else passed over his face, almost like he had been caught in the act. How had he known about Ron? Unless…had he been watching her? She quickly put this thought out of her mind. Suddenly he had grabbed her hand with one of his own and had picked up her heels by the straps with the other, hoisting her to her feet.
"What are you doing?" She asked in a voice that sounded small even to her own ears.
"Walking you back to Gryffindor tower."
"Why?"
He sighed rather dramatically at this.
"Because you barely look like you can function on your own right now, Granger. Now would you stop asking questions?"
She had no idea why she at all trusted him to get her to Gryffindor tower, but somehow she let herself lean on his arm and guide her to Gryffindor tower, which he did wordlessly. He let go of her, almost reluctantly as they reached the portrait hole, carefully handing her shoes back to her. She was almost inside the portrait hole when,
"Hermione."
She turned around.
"Weaselby is an idiot. You were beautiful tonight." And she could barely register the look in his eyes before he turned around and walked away. It was only when she was inside her dormitory that she noticed, with astonishment, that he had called her Hermione.
6th year-
Hermione had noticed that Draco had been looking haggard. It was difficult not to. Not only had his agitation become clear physically, but Harry was practically obsessed at figuring out what he was hiding. And though she thought Harry ridiculous at times, she had to admit that her best friend had a fairly good intuition. On that particular day he had crashed Slughorn's Christmas party and Hermione had snuck out of McLaggen's grotesque clutches and had been walking back to Gryffindor tower in a different way than she hoped he had, when she noticed Draco hidden behind a pillar and leaning against a large window, gazing into the night sky. She was about to keep walking when he turned to look directly into her eyes, as if he had known she had been there observing him all along. She startled.
"Lurking in hallways now, are we Granger?"
"Says the man lurking at a window."
She could have sworn he smirked.
"Get out of here while you still can." He said morosely, turning back towards the window.
"And what, may I ask, is that supposed to mean?"
He laughed. And whatever was behind that laugh frightened her. It was not mirth, it sounded like pain and cruelty almost. But though she believed Malfoy to be many things, completely cruel was not one of them. And then he swept out and pulled her behind the pillar and out of sight. She was close to him, too close, her eyes glued widely on his chest.
"Why do you pry like this, Granger?" His voice was lower than before, his hand still gripping her wrist, and the cruel laugh still laced his words. "What good does it serve you?"
"I didn't mean to walk down this pathway. It wasn't as if I knew you were here."
"Then why…Ah, McLaggen." Another cruel laugh. "I never pegged you as being stupid, Granger. I had always thought you were smart before this business with Weaselby and McLaggen."
"You don't know anything, Malfoy."
"You're too good for them, Granger." He practically hissed at her. "I suspect you know what McLaggen is as you've been trying to escape him, but making Weaselby of all people jealous? He's a self righteous prick and treats you like shite."
Hermione stopped for a moment, observing the frenzy and anger in his eyes.
"Since when do you care how I'm treated?" She asked slowly.
He muttered lowly to himself, something she couldn't hear despite how close they were, and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. When she looked back into his face it almost, for a moment, looked as if he might cry. And that frightened her just as much as his laugh had.
"What is happening with you?" She said softly, more to herself than him. She absentmindedly reached her hand out to brush a strand of hair out of his face, completely unaware of her actions. For a moment he gaped at her.
"You're worried about me?"
"Malfoy, look at you, everyone is worried about you." She responded sternly. "What is going on?"
"Stop asking questions, Granger." He said in a warning tone.
"I remember another time you said that exact same thing to me." She said with narrowed eyes. "But then you called me Hermione." She wasn't quite sure why she said it, maybe to get a reaction she supposed.
When he looked back at her his eye contact was unwavering, and this time he just looked haggard and tired and something else she couldn't quite figure out.
"Would you prefer I call you by your name, Hermione?" He said quite darkly, but sincerely.
The breath blew out of her lungs and she could hardly figure out what she was feeling, all she could do was nod. And then his lips were on hers, hungrily. This was not the innocent kiss she had shared not all that long ago with Victor. This was open mouthed and desperate slowly fading to slow and languid motions, and finally he pulled away and shouldered past her. And he was gone just as quickly as he had been there. Hermione pressed her hand to her lips and willed her thundering heart to slow down. What had that been about? Why hadn't she pushed him away? The questions had scratched at her every night, but he never looked her way at all for the rest of the week. She wondered if it had actually happened.
Malfoy Manor-
She screamed as another jolt of pain hit her.
"Stop, please." But this time it wasn't her own voice that formed these words. Her tearful eyes looked up and there was Draco, even more haggard than she had ever seen him. He looked wrecked. And was he crying? She hadn't heard him come in.
"Stop what, dearest?" His Aunt cackled.
"She's had enough."
"Oh do you think so? I think you're getting soft!" She screamed in his face. Hermione felt another jolt of pain.
"Stop this!" Pure unbridled fury.
"Or what?" She spat back. "You know what filth she is."
"Leave us and let me do it." His voice took a more sinister glean to it. "You know how long I've waited for this."
There was a pause.
"Ten minutes then."
She could barely see Draco when he walked over to her. Suddenly her eyes felt very heavy and her bones relaxed, and though she had been tortured by Bellatrix after this she couldn't remember any of it at all. Nor did she remember feeling much pain.
7th Year-
The war was over and Hermione had finally returned to Hogwarts to finish her final year. Though she wasn't quite sure what she wanted to do yet, she had started shadowing Headmistress McGonagall and attempting to assess all the internal and political damage done at Hogwarts. One thing was for certain, she never wanted to involve herself in politics. For the first month she had her own room as Head Girl; Head Boy had not been chosen yet. Usually the two would share a dorm that was really more like a flat with separate rooms for each. But Hermione had been sometimes entertaining Harry, or Ginny, or Fred, or George instead while studying. Not Ron. She had ended things and he hadn't taken it well, but it was nice to still talk to her best friend Harry so often. One day she walked back into her room to see new items. She guessed McGonagall might have finally chosen a Head Boy. But she froze when she saw a familiar head of striking blonde hair. She hadn't really seen him since he had tried to save Harry at the Battle of Hogwarts, throwing his wand to him at an integral point. And had he helped her at Malfoy Manor? That was still unclear to her. He had been facing prison, but she and Harry had testified on his behalf. Still, she had never expected to see him again.
He whipped around to look at her, his eyes blown wide.
"Hermione." He spoke her name as if it were a prayer.
She didn't know what to make of any of this. Was she mad at him? Was she not? Why was her heart beating that fast? And why had he used her name again? The last time he had said it was… A memory floated to her as if off of a breeze. She could almost feel his lips against her again; this was a memory she had been attempting to push back. But here it was again at the forefront of her mind, as if it had happened yesterday.
"Draco." She said.
"I do believe I've used your name before, but I haven't often heard you use mine." He looked less tired and haggard, more wise and put together, but he also looked as if the weight of the world had crushed his spirit. She felt that way often too.
"Thank you for testifying for me." He continued after some silence. "I know that must have been difficult for you."
"You helped me at Malfoy Manor."
"You can barely call that help." He scoffed. "I was a coward."
"You were as trapped as I was there."
"It should have been me, not you."
It was at this that she decided, wholly and completely, that she had forgiven him.
"It wasn't what you wanted." She said in realization.
He laughed at this, a tired sounding sort.
"I don't think I deserve to get what I want ever again." He ran a hand through his hair, not quite looking her in the eye.
"Don't say that." She shook her head at him, offering him a small smile. "We all did things we regret. You deserve to have whatever it is you want. As do we all, even though it really doesn't feel like it."
He gave her a nod of understanding.
"You deserve the world, you're smart enough to have it too." He smirked. "Sometimes I think it might be better if you did have it. I'm still…me."
"Really, Draco." She sighed. "You're free to have whatever you want too, you're not so bad and you inherited your family's money."
"Money has nothing to do with what I want, Hermione." It was as if something suddenly snapped between them. When she looked back at him, he was staring at her with so much intensity.
And it was with that, that she once again remembered the soft press of his lips, his warm hand on her arm as he escorted her to Gryffindor tower, the look in his eyes when he had called her beautiful, the look in his eyes when she had told him to call her by her first name. Suddenly she noticed, to her astonishment, that she had missed him and also that he loved her. And she started crying.
"Why didn't you tell me, all these years?" She pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle the sob.
"Mione, why are you crying?" He asked softly.
"Stop asking questions." And this time she kissed him. For a moment he froze, stiff, unsure what to do with himself. But then he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her so close to him that no one could reasonably say that there was any space in between the two. And while she had started out the kiss rather enthusiastically, he coaxed her to go more slowly but just as fiercely. It was as if he was savoring her, after all this time of so much separating them there was nothing between the two of them anymore. And when he broke away she noticed that she was no longer the only one crying.
"Look at us." She laughed, wiping away his tears with her thumbs.
"How did you know?" He rasped, half between a smile and shock.
"Everything." She breathed. "How did I not notice it before?"
He buried his face in her shoulder as she held him, as he sobbed and whimpered apologies and her name over and over again. One on top of the other. She clung to him the entire night. When she woke up they were both in her bed, he was wearing nothing but pajama bottoms and she an overlarge shirt. He was half over her, his head tucked into her shoulder. She didn't notice that he was awake until he pressed a kiss to her collarbone, using one hand to remove himself from her body. She immediately missed his warmth.
"Are you sure about this?" Draco asked, as if he was still afraid of her rejecting him.
She threaded a hand through his hair and pressed a kiss to his nose and then his mouth.
"Is that answer enough?"
He had descended on her once more in no time at all.
