A few weeks later, Hermione entered Malfoy's room as usual. He was
finally able to move around the hospital on his own and no longer needed
assistance to perform the simplest tasks.
"Okay, Malfoy," Hermione said as she sat next to his bed where he was reading, "You're just about ready to be released from the hospital, but there're are few questions I need you to answer before you leave."
Draco looked up at the object of his affection. He would never admit it to anyone, but while he'd been in the hospital he had fallen hard for his doctor and former classmate. Draco smiled inwardly. He doubted that Granger- Hermione-knew how beautiful she was. Unlike most women, Hermione didn't try to make herself look better. The majority of the female population wore too much make-up and not enough clothing. But Hermione. Hermione was different. She wore comfortable clothing, no makeup, and she put her hair in a clip at the base of her neck to keep it out of her face. It took him a moment to realize she was still talking to him.
"Malfoy.Earth to Malfoy, are you paying attention? I need you to tell me who put the curse on you and why a house elf brought you into the hospital."
A pained look flashed across Malfoy's face, and instead of answering her question, asked one of his own.
"Hermione," he said, allowing her name to roll off of his tongue, "why have you been so nice to me these past couple of months? I mean, I was so horrible to you and your friends during school."
Hermione was caught off guard by his question. Why had she been so nice to him? Well, one thing was that, even if he had been horrible to her, Harry, and Ron; he was still one of her classmates. Also it was her job. She told him as much.
Draco looked a little saddened by her straightforward answer. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but an unbridled declaration of her love for him would have been nice.
"So Malfoy, who put the curse on you? I answered your question, so it's only fair that you answer mine."
Draco uttered only two words, "My father."
~ * ~
Hermione couldn't stop the tirade of words that spilled out of her mouth in anger. "Why on Earth would anyone do that to their child? I mean honestly, you're his own flesh and blood. How could anyone be so cruel? I don't."
Malfoy cut her off mid-sentence. "He did this to me, because I refused to help bring the Dark Lord back to power."
Hermione gaped at him. "Oh," she said pitifully. She couldn't think of anything else to say. What had happened to him had been so horrible. There was still a question pestering her. "Why did the elf bring you in Draco? Why not your mother?"
Draco sighed, tears starting to form in his eyes. He blinked hard, not wanting the tears to overcome him. His mother had been the only person who had ever truly loved him. "My father killed her when she tried to stop the Curse. Lucius has been telling the authorities that she had a stroke."
Hermione took note of the tears in his eyes and sat on the bed next to him, rubbing his back soothingly. "Shhh. Everything will be okay. I understand that it hurts."
Suddenly Draco lashed out at her, irate that he was weakening in front of her. "And what would you know about it, huh? I'll bet you've never lost the only person that you've ever cared for!"
Hermione sighed, surprised at the outburst. "You're wrong Draco. Maybe they weren't the only people that I cared for, but I lost my parents just after graduation. No offense but that was an incredibly selfish outburst, thinking that you're the only one to ever lose someone you care for."
"I'm sorry." Draco said.
The words hung in the air between them. After a while, Hermione-having gotten up off the bed after Draco's outburst- sat back down on the edge of his bed, placing an arm around his shoulders.
"Draco, you know we have to report your father."
It was Draco's turn to stand up in indignation. "I can't turn in my father! He'll kill me!"
"Draco, you're twenty-five years old. It's about time you stood up to your father. You can't allow him to rule you for the rest of your life. I'll go with you to the Ministry and meet with the proper officials if you like."
Draco ran his hands over his face in defeat. "I don't know," he said. Sighing wearily, he sat back down on his bed.
Hermione looked at him with sympathy then tried to lighten the mood. "Well, I suppose one good thing came of this."
Draco snorted. "Oh yeah? What's that?"
Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, we're being civil to each other and even calling one another by our first names."
Draco nodded and the corners of his mouth even tipped upwards a little. "I guess so.Hermione."
~ * ~
They didn't see one another again for a long while. Thanksgiving came and Hermione couldn't help but wonder what Draco did for Thanksgiving. Was he spending the weekend with his tyrant of a father, or was he sitting at home by himself, eating an instant meal and pondering what it would be like to spend the holiday with a loving family. As Hermione thought of this, a wave of sadness crashed over her. Walking to the telephone, Hermione called Molly Weasley-the Weasley's had installed a phone line after the kids had graduated and moved out. After making sure that it was all right if she brought a guest- "Of course dear. The more the merrier."- Hermione gathered her courage and owled Draco's home.
Draco,
I know this may sound odd but I couldn't help but wonder what your plans for Thanksgiving are. If you don't have any previous engagements, would you perhaps like to accompany me to the Weasley's for Thanksgiving dinner? Arthur, Molly, and all the Weasley children will be there, along with their families, plus Harry and his family. Ginny's boyfriend of the week will undoubtedly be there as well. Anyway, think it over and let me know.
Hermione
After sending her owl out with the letter, Hermione waited anxiously for a reply.
Hermione needn't have worried. The next morning when she woke up, her owl was waiting patiently for her on her bedside table. Hermione gave the owl a pat on the head and a cracker as she took the note from the gargantuan bird. Just as she'd hoped it was a letter from Draco.
Hermione,
I greatly appreciate the offer to attend the Weasley's Thanksgiving dinner with you. Luckily, I have no prior engagements and will gladly attend with you if it's all right with Mrs. Weasley. The question is, shall we attend together or shall I meet you there? Also, ask Mrs. Weasley if I may bring anything. I suppose it's about time I met with everyone and apologized for my actions. Let me know what to bring and where I should meet you. Thanks again for the invitation.
Draco
Hermione let out an uncharacteristic squeal of delight, then covered her mouth with her hand in shock and giggled. Ginny would be proud. What should she wear? Hermione was surprised at her own mind. She had never worried about what she was going to wear before, why start now? 'Because you like him,' her subconscious responded. Hermione was, again, surprised at her own realizations. She felt oddly excited again, almost as though she was seventeen again. 'Oh what a wondrous feeling.'
~ * ~
Thanksgiving Day finally arrived. Hermione was a nervous wreck but still managed to get herself appropriately dressed. Dressed in a cream colored skirt that flared out around her ankles and a sky blue long sleeve scoop neck shirt. Her hair was flowing freely for once. No longer frizzy and untamed, the mahogany colored rivulets cascaded down her back. Only applying a trace of black eyeliner, Hermione's look was completed. Walking back downstairs, she picked up a worn copy of Hogwarts: A History and waited for Draco to pick her up.
Ten minutes later, Draco rang the doorbell to Hermione's flat. Hermione's head snapped up, the man was punctual-surprising. Placing the bookmark that Harry had given her for her birthday (it kept the exact place you had been reading before you put it in the book) in her spot, she unfurled her legs from under her and stood to answer the door. When she opened the door, Hermione's breath escaped her.
Draco had just raised his hand to knock on the door when it opened, revealing Hermione in her stunning choice of apparel. The skirt hugged her hips and flared out at her ankles, revealing strapped sandals the same color as the skirt. The blouse she had chosen also embraced her curves. Draco didn't think he had ever seen her more beautiful, not even in fourth year at the Yule Ball. "You look striking," he said a little breathlessly, hoping she hadn't noticed.
Hermione smiled at him. "You don't look so bad yourself," she said appreciatively. As she invited him in, Hermione appraised him carefully. He was dressed in what appeared to be tailored slacks and a close fitting, ribbed turtleneck sweater, all black of course. Instead of the slicked back look that he had sported throughout school, his hair was hanging loose and looked to be just as soft as when she had so affectionately brushed it everyday in the hospital. Shaking her head slightly she also finally noticed the flowers in his hands.
"Oh," Draco said, noticing Hermione glancing at the flowers in his hands. He pulled one bouquet from the bunch. "These," he stated gallantly, "are for you."
Hermione smiled at him and took the flowers from his outstretched grasp. They smelled wonderful and hopefully the smell would quickly permeate throughout the house. "Thank you, I'll just go put these in a vase and then we can go."
While Hermione was in the kitchen, Draco walked into the living room, which was located just off the entrance hall. Noting the organization of the room, he smiled and remembered that she had been just as organized during their Hogwarts' days. As he sat on the large white couch, an orange ball of fuzz flew through the air at him. Giving a startled yelp, he jumped up and noticed that it was an immensely large orange tabby cat. Draco turned at the sound of a tinkling laughter coming from behind him.
"Sorry about him," Hermione said, still trying to stifle her laughter, "Crookshanks gets a little angry when someone sits in his spot on the couch. Are you ready to go?"
Draco had let out a little bit of a smile, laughing at himself. "Yeah, are we apparating?"
"Of course. If we went by Floo Powder, we'd get all dirty." Hermione suddenly noticed a trace of an emotion on Draco's face that she had never seen before. "Draco, are you nervous?"
Draco cleared his throat. "No, of course not." Noting her skeptical expression he abridged his answer. "Okay, maybe a little but you can't blame me. I never exactly got along with the Weasleys' and Potter."
Hermione gave him a comforting smile. "Don't worry. The Weasley's are all very forgiving people. I'm sure that they'll love you."
"Well, we mustn't keep them waiting then." Draco offered the crook of his arm to Hermione, which she gladly accepted by looping her arm loosely through his. Together, they apparated to The Burrow.
"Okay, Malfoy," Hermione said as she sat next to his bed where he was reading, "You're just about ready to be released from the hospital, but there're are few questions I need you to answer before you leave."
Draco looked up at the object of his affection. He would never admit it to anyone, but while he'd been in the hospital he had fallen hard for his doctor and former classmate. Draco smiled inwardly. He doubted that Granger- Hermione-knew how beautiful she was. Unlike most women, Hermione didn't try to make herself look better. The majority of the female population wore too much make-up and not enough clothing. But Hermione. Hermione was different. She wore comfortable clothing, no makeup, and she put her hair in a clip at the base of her neck to keep it out of her face. It took him a moment to realize she was still talking to him.
"Malfoy.Earth to Malfoy, are you paying attention? I need you to tell me who put the curse on you and why a house elf brought you into the hospital."
A pained look flashed across Malfoy's face, and instead of answering her question, asked one of his own.
"Hermione," he said, allowing her name to roll off of his tongue, "why have you been so nice to me these past couple of months? I mean, I was so horrible to you and your friends during school."
Hermione was caught off guard by his question. Why had she been so nice to him? Well, one thing was that, even if he had been horrible to her, Harry, and Ron; he was still one of her classmates. Also it was her job. She told him as much.
Draco looked a little saddened by her straightforward answer. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but an unbridled declaration of her love for him would have been nice.
"So Malfoy, who put the curse on you? I answered your question, so it's only fair that you answer mine."
Draco uttered only two words, "My father."
~ * ~
Hermione couldn't stop the tirade of words that spilled out of her mouth in anger. "Why on Earth would anyone do that to their child? I mean honestly, you're his own flesh and blood. How could anyone be so cruel? I don't."
Malfoy cut her off mid-sentence. "He did this to me, because I refused to help bring the Dark Lord back to power."
Hermione gaped at him. "Oh," she said pitifully. She couldn't think of anything else to say. What had happened to him had been so horrible. There was still a question pestering her. "Why did the elf bring you in Draco? Why not your mother?"
Draco sighed, tears starting to form in his eyes. He blinked hard, not wanting the tears to overcome him. His mother had been the only person who had ever truly loved him. "My father killed her when she tried to stop the Curse. Lucius has been telling the authorities that she had a stroke."
Hermione took note of the tears in his eyes and sat on the bed next to him, rubbing his back soothingly. "Shhh. Everything will be okay. I understand that it hurts."
Suddenly Draco lashed out at her, irate that he was weakening in front of her. "And what would you know about it, huh? I'll bet you've never lost the only person that you've ever cared for!"
Hermione sighed, surprised at the outburst. "You're wrong Draco. Maybe they weren't the only people that I cared for, but I lost my parents just after graduation. No offense but that was an incredibly selfish outburst, thinking that you're the only one to ever lose someone you care for."
"I'm sorry." Draco said.
The words hung in the air between them. After a while, Hermione-having gotten up off the bed after Draco's outburst- sat back down on the edge of his bed, placing an arm around his shoulders.
"Draco, you know we have to report your father."
It was Draco's turn to stand up in indignation. "I can't turn in my father! He'll kill me!"
"Draco, you're twenty-five years old. It's about time you stood up to your father. You can't allow him to rule you for the rest of your life. I'll go with you to the Ministry and meet with the proper officials if you like."
Draco ran his hands over his face in defeat. "I don't know," he said. Sighing wearily, he sat back down on his bed.
Hermione looked at him with sympathy then tried to lighten the mood. "Well, I suppose one good thing came of this."
Draco snorted. "Oh yeah? What's that?"
Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, we're being civil to each other and even calling one another by our first names."
Draco nodded and the corners of his mouth even tipped upwards a little. "I guess so.Hermione."
~ * ~
They didn't see one another again for a long while. Thanksgiving came and Hermione couldn't help but wonder what Draco did for Thanksgiving. Was he spending the weekend with his tyrant of a father, or was he sitting at home by himself, eating an instant meal and pondering what it would be like to spend the holiday with a loving family. As Hermione thought of this, a wave of sadness crashed over her. Walking to the telephone, Hermione called Molly Weasley-the Weasley's had installed a phone line after the kids had graduated and moved out. After making sure that it was all right if she brought a guest- "Of course dear. The more the merrier."- Hermione gathered her courage and owled Draco's home.
Draco,
I know this may sound odd but I couldn't help but wonder what your plans for Thanksgiving are. If you don't have any previous engagements, would you perhaps like to accompany me to the Weasley's for Thanksgiving dinner? Arthur, Molly, and all the Weasley children will be there, along with their families, plus Harry and his family. Ginny's boyfriend of the week will undoubtedly be there as well. Anyway, think it over and let me know.
Hermione
After sending her owl out with the letter, Hermione waited anxiously for a reply.
Hermione needn't have worried. The next morning when she woke up, her owl was waiting patiently for her on her bedside table. Hermione gave the owl a pat on the head and a cracker as she took the note from the gargantuan bird. Just as she'd hoped it was a letter from Draco.
Hermione,
I greatly appreciate the offer to attend the Weasley's Thanksgiving dinner with you. Luckily, I have no prior engagements and will gladly attend with you if it's all right with Mrs. Weasley. The question is, shall we attend together or shall I meet you there? Also, ask Mrs. Weasley if I may bring anything. I suppose it's about time I met with everyone and apologized for my actions. Let me know what to bring and where I should meet you. Thanks again for the invitation.
Draco
Hermione let out an uncharacteristic squeal of delight, then covered her mouth with her hand in shock and giggled. Ginny would be proud. What should she wear? Hermione was surprised at her own mind. She had never worried about what she was going to wear before, why start now? 'Because you like him,' her subconscious responded. Hermione was, again, surprised at her own realizations. She felt oddly excited again, almost as though she was seventeen again. 'Oh what a wondrous feeling.'
~ * ~
Thanksgiving Day finally arrived. Hermione was a nervous wreck but still managed to get herself appropriately dressed. Dressed in a cream colored skirt that flared out around her ankles and a sky blue long sleeve scoop neck shirt. Her hair was flowing freely for once. No longer frizzy and untamed, the mahogany colored rivulets cascaded down her back. Only applying a trace of black eyeliner, Hermione's look was completed. Walking back downstairs, she picked up a worn copy of Hogwarts: A History and waited for Draco to pick her up.
Ten minutes later, Draco rang the doorbell to Hermione's flat. Hermione's head snapped up, the man was punctual-surprising. Placing the bookmark that Harry had given her for her birthday (it kept the exact place you had been reading before you put it in the book) in her spot, she unfurled her legs from under her and stood to answer the door. When she opened the door, Hermione's breath escaped her.
Draco had just raised his hand to knock on the door when it opened, revealing Hermione in her stunning choice of apparel. The skirt hugged her hips and flared out at her ankles, revealing strapped sandals the same color as the skirt. The blouse she had chosen also embraced her curves. Draco didn't think he had ever seen her more beautiful, not even in fourth year at the Yule Ball. "You look striking," he said a little breathlessly, hoping she hadn't noticed.
Hermione smiled at him. "You don't look so bad yourself," she said appreciatively. As she invited him in, Hermione appraised him carefully. He was dressed in what appeared to be tailored slacks and a close fitting, ribbed turtleneck sweater, all black of course. Instead of the slicked back look that he had sported throughout school, his hair was hanging loose and looked to be just as soft as when she had so affectionately brushed it everyday in the hospital. Shaking her head slightly she also finally noticed the flowers in his hands.
"Oh," Draco said, noticing Hermione glancing at the flowers in his hands. He pulled one bouquet from the bunch. "These," he stated gallantly, "are for you."
Hermione smiled at him and took the flowers from his outstretched grasp. They smelled wonderful and hopefully the smell would quickly permeate throughout the house. "Thank you, I'll just go put these in a vase and then we can go."
While Hermione was in the kitchen, Draco walked into the living room, which was located just off the entrance hall. Noting the organization of the room, he smiled and remembered that she had been just as organized during their Hogwarts' days. As he sat on the large white couch, an orange ball of fuzz flew through the air at him. Giving a startled yelp, he jumped up and noticed that it was an immensely large orange tabby cat. Draco turned at the sound of a tinkling laughter coming from behind him.
"Sorry about him," Hermione said, still trying to stifle her laughter, "Crookshanks gets a little angry when someone sits in his spot on the couch. Are you ready to go?"
Draco had let out a little bit of a smile, laughing at himself. "Yeah, are we apparating?"
"Of course. If we went by Floo Powder, we'd get all dirty." Hermione suddenly noticed a trace of an emotion on Draco's face that she had never seen before. "Draco, are you nervous?"
Draco cleared his throat. "No, of course not." Noting her skeptical expression he abridged his answer. "Okay, maybe a little but you can't blame me. I never exactly got along with the Weasleys' and Potter."
Hermione gave him a comforting smile. "Don't worry. The Weasley's are all very forgiving people. I'm sure that they'll love you."
"Well, we mustn't keep them waiting then." Draco offered the crook of his arm to Hermione, which she gladly accepted by looping her arm loosely through his. Together, they apparated to The Burrow.
