Chapter 2- Changes

The Burrow was brewing with excitement when Hermione arrived. How could it have slipped her mind? It was July 31; Harry's birthday. Hermione ran up to her best friend and gave him a big hug.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" she said cheerfully.

"Thanks, 'Mione," he replied, hugging her tightly.

Once he released her, she told him that his gift was in her room and she'd get it for him later. He assured her that it was no big deal and that she didn't even need to get him anything, but she insisted that she meet him upstairs before he went to bed, so he agreed.

All the Weasleys were there except Percy. No one even dared mention his name anymore. It was like he had never even existed and everyone seemed content that way.

Everyone made their way out to the backyard for a nice game of Quidditch. Hermione wasn't a huge fan of the sport, but she went out to be a spectator nonetheless. They all begged her to play, but she refused, saying that she would much prefer to watch. None of them knew the real reason why she wouldn't play. She was actually terrified of heights. When she was five, she had fallen out of a tree and ever since then had been scared to take her feet off the ground.

The game was actually quite boring, Hermione decided as she lay on the green grass and stared dismally up into the blue sky. What had been up with Malfoy earlier? He had actually seemed like a person for once. Perhaps he wasn't all that bad, she mused, but in the middle of her thoughts, she screeched and rolled out of the way of a misguided bludger. She would never understand that game. To her, it was just another attempt at suicide. And if there was one thing that Hermione Granger didn't believe in, it was suicide. She thought it incredibly stupid and selfish.

"Oi, 'Mione! Sorry about that!" Fred called down to her as he swooped down, chasing after the stray bludger.

After a while, they all called it quits and headed inside for Harry's cake. And after cake it was bedtime.

Hermione headed down to Harry and Ron's room with a wrapped gift. It was pretty small, so Harry wasn't sure what to expect, since he usually received a book. He looked at her apprehensively before he tore away the paper carefully. It was a navy blue jewelry box. He slowly opened up the box and inside was a delicate silver necklace with a snitch charm with fluttering wings. Both Harry and Ron were stunned by this elegant gift.

"Wow," was all Harry could say. He stared at it open mouthed then looked up at her.

"So do you like it?" she asked slowly.

He gave her a big hug and said, "Of course I do. I love it! Where did you get the money to pay for it? Surely it was expensive."

"Oh, Harry, don't worry about it. I bought it for you because you're my best friend and I knew you would appreciate it. What I paid for it doesn't matter. All that matters is that you like it."

Harry nodded then hooked the necklace around his neck. The little wings fluttered almost happily.

Hermione grinned. "Well boys, I'm headed to bed. I will see you both tomorrow morning." They both gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek and she headed up to the room she shared with Ginny.

When Draco got home, he immediately called for a house elf to bring some food up to his room. The house elf bowed deeply the scuttled away, only to return two minutes later with a tray of food.

He flicked his wand and soothing, classical music filled the entire room. No one knew, but Draco was very into classical music. It relaxed him when he was tense and it always cleared his mind. To him, there was nothing in the world like it-except for maybe a good fuck now and then.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, he heard a sound from somewhere in his house, and he knew that his father was home a drunk again. It was a normal routine now. Lucius Malfoy went out to some random bar at night, drank for hours and came back home swearing at and breaking everything in his way. The house elves always fixed everything, but to Draco it all seemed so futile, since it would just happen again the next night.

The door to his room burst open, and without even looking, Draco drawled, "What now, Father? Do you need to use the loo? It's down the hall, if you've forgotten."

Rage was etched into the older Malfoy's face. "You dare talk to me like that, boy? I'll show you! I'll show you!" he shouted.

"Show me what? All that you've been capable of showing me the last few months is how drunk and stupid you can get. And I'll tell ya, you're pretty fucking drunk right now, so why don't you get the hell outta here and leave me the fuck alone for once in your pitiful life?"

Lucius' face contorted with unsuppressed rage. No one, especially not his only son, talked to him like that, whether he was drunk or not. After a bit of stumbling, he managed to pull out his wand and point it at his son. Draco looked quite bored, as if the whole thing had been rehearsed over and over again, which in some sense, it had been.

"Father, put it away. We both know what is going to happen," Draco commented, eyeing the older man wearily. "You're going to keep that thing pointed at me, trying to think of the correct incantation, which you will not find tonight. So if you please, save us both the trouble because I need to wake up early tomorrow to go to work. Thanks."

To both their surprise, Lucius tucked his wand away and stumbled out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

Draco sighed and lay back on his pillows. Ever since his father had been released from Azkaban, he had never been the same. It was as if he were a child sometimes. Draco hated having to be the responsible one in the house, since neither of his parents seemed capable of it lately. Lucius had obviously lost his job at the Ministry of Magic due to his position in the Dark Lord's Inner Circle. His mother didn't do all that much either except sit in the drawing room drinking wine and hoping to whoever would listen that her husband would quit his drinking and try to get his life back. Then at night they'd go into their bedroom and fuck for all hours. All in all, it was an incredibly depressing place to be lately.

As Draco sat, staring at the ceiling, he thought about how the Malfoy name was starting to lose all respect and credibility in the wizarding world. It would be up to him to restore that and keep up his esteemed bloodline.

After about a week of working together, Hermione and Draco discovered that the other wasn't as bad as they had previously thought. Draco did actually have an intellectual side, which rather pleased Hermione. And Hermione had an amazing sense of humor, which was something Draco never thought she'd have. He had always pictured her to be uptight and prissy about everything.

Finally it was about closing on Saturday night of that first week, and both Draco and Hermione had off on Sunday. As they were straightening everything out, Draco asked Hermione something that had rather surprised her, and she didn't know if he was being serious or not.

They were cleaning tables and straightening chairs. Out of the blue, Draco said, "So, wanna come visit me at the Manor tomorrow sometime, just to hang out and talk and whatnot?"

Hermione stopped running the cloth over the dirty table. Her deep brown eyes, wide with shock looked up to see Draco working diligently at the table next to her. His silvery-blonde hair was falling into his eyes, and he didn't see the shocked look she was sending him at that moment.

"I—well I'm not sure. When—why are you asking me over? Won't your father be angry to see me? After all, he hates—Mudbloods," she responded tentatively.

Finally Draco diverted his gaze from the table to Hermione. "Whatever, it's your call," he replied nonchalantly.

After a moment's pondering, she started slowly, "It's not that I don't want to. I do, in fact, but don't you think it would be a little weird considering the fact that I am who I am and you are who you are. I didn't think your parents approved of non-Purebloods in the house."

Draco slammed his cloth down. "Why do you care what they think in the first place! I thought you were above that all. You blew me off in school, like everything I said meant nothing to you, so why not now? I thought you didn't let the attitude of other people affect you. Or am I wrong? Has my image of you been seriously wrong all these years?"

Hermione felt like she couldn't move. She glared intensely at him-directly into his silver eyes. "Do you honestly think that what you have done to me hasn't affected me? You must be on something to think that. I have hated you since day one because of what you have said to me. Of course it affects me. It hurts knowing that I will never be good enough because I don't come from the wizarding community. It hurts that every time I do something right I am put down simply because one person thinks that my blood is dirty. I hate to inflate your ego anymore, but yes, I have been hurt by the things you have said to me."

She turned away from him. She could feel the color rising up into her cheeks as he stared at her, open mouthed.

"Look, Hermione, I'm—I'm sorry. I didn't know that it was that bad on you," he said softly.

She shook her head. "Not like it matters. I'm virtually invisible anyway. Maybe tomorrow wouldn't be the best time. Ask me again sometime. I may reconsider. Right now I think we just need to work out issues inside our own minds before we try to help someone else."

He nodded, and shortly. "Yeah, maybe that is best. I wasn't really thinking anyway. Of course it would be awkward if you came over."

Hermione smiled sadly. "It shouldn't have to be this way. We're both humans and we should be able to talk and hang out when we please, but this is reality. Things are only perfect in fantasy worlds."

"There is no such thing as perfect--not even in dream-lands, no matter how much we want it to be. There is always a bad guy."

This conversation seemed quite strange to both teens. Neither of them spoke as they finished locking up. Before they were both about to apparate to their separate residences, Draco walked over to Hermione, and whispered, "I'm sorry," in her ear. And with a crack! he was gone.

That night, Hermione seldom spoke. Her mind was on what was going on with Draco. It didn't seem right that he would be apologizing to her. And for what? He never specifically stated. This wasn't supposed to happen. Whatever happened to being enemies? Since they started working together they seemed to be almost friends. To the rational part of Hermione's brain that didn't seem right. Maybe she'd talk to him and ask him about it sometime.

As the summer progressed, Hermione and Draco grew increasingly fonder of spending time together, even if it was only at the bookstore. They were able to hold intelligent conversations as well as joke around with each other. There was not once a negative comment. It was evident that they both saw each other in a new light.

In the middle of August, the Hogwarts letters arrived. When Hermione read hers, she began jumping up and down excitedly. "I got Head Girl!" she announced, holding up her badge.

"Nice going," Ron and Harry congratulated, giving her a big hug.

"So, who's Head Boy?" Ron asked her.

Hermione glanced down at the letter quickly. "Oh, they don't say. I guess I'll find out soon enough."

Mrs. Weasley made her way over to the trio. She gave Hermione a hug. "Congratulations, Hermione, dear. I knew you would do it. You are the brightest after all. Now the three of you, give me your supply lists. I will go down to Diagon Alley and get you your supplies. You enjoy the day."

Harry and Ron made their way outside to play Quidditch. When they asked Hermione if she was coming, she declined, telling them that she had to go to work. She actually had the day off, but she was hoping that she would get a chance to talk to Draco to tell him the good news and see if he was Head Boy.

Draco was sitting in his room, listening to music when his Hogwarts letter arrived. His parents were going to be away for the week on "business." That usually meant one of two things—either they wanted a more "romantic" scene or they were doing something for the Dark Lord.

Since Draco had started working with Hermione, he hardly thought about becoming a Death Eater at all, which was weird because before that, joining his father was all he could think about.

Hermione somehow made him realize that maybe it wasn't what he really wanted.

As he tore open his letter, a badge fell out onto his bed. He knew right away what it meant, and he grinned. He knew that Hermione had received Head Girl. There was no one else who would. Hoping that she would be down at the Flowing Fountain, he summoned a house elf to get all his supplies then apparated down to the bookstore.

As soon as he got there, he spotted Hermione in a chair, reading. He rolled his eyes as he laughed to himself. Quietly, he snuck behind her and covered her eyes with his hands.

She jumped and gave a small squeal. "Draco! What are you doing?"

Defeated he dropped his hands and sat in the chair opposite Hermione. "How'd you know it was me?" he asked, grinning.

She rolled her eyes and placed the book on the table. "Well who else would it be?"

He just shrugged. "So, Head Girl, do you know who Head Boy is?"

"No, and are you just assuming that I am Head Girl?"

"Of course. I know you are, and I know who Head Boy is," he said smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That means it must be you!" Hermione replied excitedly, jumping up and hugging him. In the process, she fell onto his lap and just held him tighter.

Draco grinned as he wrapped his arms around her as well. "Wow, Hermione, I thought you'd be excited, but I didn't know you wanted me. That is very touching."

She didn't get up, but made herself more comfortable and stated, "Well did I ever say I didn't want you?"

Draco's eyes nearly popped out of his head when she said this. He hoped she was being serious and that she would rather be with him rather than Scar-head or Weasel. Quickly, he regained his composure and smirked. "So you do want me then?"

Hermione blushed a bit and looked away from him. She had never meant to tell him that because she knew that he would just make fun of her and tell her that she never even had a chance with him.

"Look at me," Draco demanded. She turned her head slightly. His face had changed from one of mirth to one of total seriousness. For the first time all summer, she felt very uncomfortable being around him. "Do you want me, Hermione?" She gave a small nod and looked away again. "Look at me!" Again, she faced him. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Hermione." She still said nothing so he leaned close and whispered in her ear, "I want you too."

Before she had the chance to respond, his lips were over hers. The kiss was short but passionate. When they came apart, they just looked into each other's eyes for what seemed like forever.

Hermione broke the silence. "That was my first kiss," she admitted sheepishly.

"Mine too." It was Draco's turn to look away.

"You have got to be kidding! All the girls at school and you have never kissed one of them. I mean, they all drool over you."

Draco shrugged. "I was just never interested in any of them. They're all fake, but you—you're real. You know what you want in life. You're not just looking to get laid. You're honest and beautiful and smart and you can take a joke. You're not like the other girls, Hermione, and I like that about you."

Hermione was touched. She felt like she couldn't breathe. "How long have you thought that?" she asked.

"Honestly, only since we started working here. I never really took the time to notice you before that and I'm sorry I haven't. A lot of things have changed for me since we got to know each other."

Hermione nodded. She knew that her story was along those lines.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah, Draco?"

"There is no one home at the Manor right now, and I was thinking, well wondering if you wanted to well—come er well if you wanted to come over and we could—we could be alone there and….stuff," he finished lamely.

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Of course I'll come over."

Neither of them knew what they were going to do there, but they apparated to Draco's room nonetheless.