I don't own this, except for the plot, and I absolutely adore reviews!
It was raining. Oh, how she loved the rain. The entire school seemed to fall under the enchantment, under its spell. Late on a Sunday night in October, the occupants of Hogwarts stood with their noses pressed against the magnificent windows, breaths fogging the glass. It came down in torrents, non-stop for absolute hours on end. They filed away, as Hermione retreated to her own dry common room.
She opened the window of her room, sighing as the cool atmosphere washed over her, and the amazing smell of the fresh rain entered her room. She had made it nearly two months of her final year. So why wasn't it all smooth sailing and happiness as she had expected. Not since that night a few weeks ago had she felt a surge of rebelliousness. The feeling had left as suddenly as it had come, leaving her feeling unexpectedly empty.
Neither she nor Malfoy had mentioned their brief spell of conversation. To be perfectly honest, she wasn't keen on it ever again. Though she could have enjoyed staying in the same state of mind. Ron had snapped back and begun questioning to see her work again, to which she would stubbornly refuse, and go back to her common room. But what was even there for her?
She shut her eyes, feeling the light wind wash over her face, giving her a slight chill, which she welcomed after the weeks of monotony. Grabbing a cloak, she walked down the staircase and out of the portrait, ignoring Malfoy staring darkly into the fire. She sneaked through the deserted corridors, on the lookout for Filch or Mrs. Norris.
She shuddered as the great doors of the entrance hall creaked open; she held on to the handle until it had shut silently. She shivered lightly as she slowly walked out into the pouring rain, drenched within seconds. She trudged through the sodding wet grass, unsure of where she was even going. She was perfectly intent, with no worries.
She lifted her face up to the sky, welcoming the walls of rain splashing down on her face, eyes barely closed. She gladly welcomed the unpredictability and imperfection that the rain brought. A chance for her to be only herself. She tossed her cloak to the ground carelessly, and stood in silence for what felt like hours, not noticing as the shivering increased.
Neither did she notice that salty tears had mingled within the water pouring down her cheeks, though she opened her eyes in slight shock. Wiping away a tear, for it to be replaced by the endless rain, she shrugged it off, and began to wander once again. She shuddered involuntarily, as she began shaking harshly. The air was no longer fresh and warm, it had drastically cooled, and she wrapped frozen fingers around her arms, in an attempt to warm up.
She had left her own thoughts, to notice that she was hardly able to walk, the rain was slowly stopping, but the cool air blew over her, causing her shivering to increase further, to a near violent proportion. She jerked around suddenly, aware of a pair of eyes on her back. Perhaps she was just too numb, but she found she wasn't even surprised to see him standing behind her, oblivious to the cold, staring straight at her.
Neither moved for a minute, until he slowly walked towards her, platinum hair blowing in the wind. He lifted one surprisingly warm hand and laid it upon her cheek, withdrawing quickly.
"Are you insane? You're absolutely freezing," he muttered so quietly she had to strain to hear him. She stared into his eyes, shocked beyond measure, but entirely too calm. She knew the leagues of pain she was displaying to him through her own eyes, but he seemed perfectly calm. He gave a small nod, and moved his eyes away slightly.
She gaped openly, unable to think of anything to say, though she knew she should ask what he was doing. Why Draco Malfoy of all people would follow her into the rain, and then actually show concern. He ran a porcelain hand through his hair, and noticed her cloak lying some distance away. He gently picked it up, and slid it over her shoulders. She watched him with wide eyes, wondering when he would lift the joke and leave her out in the cold.
He did no such thing, however.
"You should get inside," he said softly, eyes neutral. She stared at him questioningly, surprised at his tone. She opened her mouth to say something... she didn't know what. Thank him perhaps? Ask what had changed, or what was the matter with him? Before she could utter a single frozen syllable, his eyes transformed as he shot her a dangerous glance. She was quite taken aback after his former behaviour.
He saw her timidity, as he softened slightly, gave her a puzzled sidelong glance, and turned to walk back to the castle, not looking back. She slowly followed, in a hypothermic daze all the way to her common room. She stared at the clock as she got back inside; it read 4:00 AM. What was Malfoy doing up at 4 on a school night rescuing her from the rain? He had already, it seemed, gone up to his room.
She didn't dwell much on the topic, but instead wearily climbed the stairs to her own room, collapsing into the warm comforter the moment she got in, eyes shut with sleep in an instant.
"You know, Granger, I reckon McGonagall nearly had a heart attack when she noticed you weren't in class today," he drawled, eyes gleaming with mirth.
She shrugged, a small smile twisting at her lips. "Just wish I could've seen it," she said finally. It had been his challenge for her to skip an entire day of classes. She had known the repercussions it could have, and still listened.
"Why?" She had asked the day before. He shrugged.
"I don't think you have the guts," he had said back, eyes glowing. Neither had mentioned anything about the challenge being initiated, but Hermione had taken all her self control and stayed in the common room the entire day.
There was a sharp rap at the portrait, jolting her back to the present. Hermione grudgingly got up, ignoring the dark looks Draco was sending across the room at the door. It almost seemed as if he had lightened up, while in her presence. She wouldn't have dared to call it anything like a friendship... more like a mutual tolerance, with occasional conversation.
Harry and Ron ran in as soon as the door had opened, and immediately took places on one couch. Draco gave a distasteful glare in their direction, as he moved as far away as he could get. Hermione gave him a glance, but he only met her eyes with coldness. She hated how he would lock himself back up if anyone else was around. Particularly Harry and Ron.
"Are you feeling alright, Hermione? Not sick?" Harry asked anxiously, as Ron looked at her curiously.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she brushed it off, standing to conjure some drinks for them. "Just didn't feel like classes today is all." She shot a quick glance at Draco, who raised an eyebrow, as the corners of his mouth almost twitched upwards. He seemed to be enjoying the expressions on Harry and Ron's faces though, and he looked fit to burst out laughing.
"Can we talk to you alone, Hermione?" Harry asked through clenched teeth, as the grin faded from his enemy's face. Draco got up harshly, and walked past Harry, muttering something that only he could hear. Harry appeared outraged, and Draco walked away, smirk once again plastered evilly to his lips. Ron drew his wand, though Hermione merely watched the retreat of her roommate.
"Do you think maybe you're getting too close to Malfoy, Hermione?" Harry asked angrily. She brought her gaze back to her friends, giving her dark looks.
"What do you mean?" She asked honestly. For all she knew, her and Malfoy did nothing but talk occasionally.
"I mean, that's a death eater you're getting all chummy with, skipping classes with," he replied, glaring at her. She turned to Ron, who was also glaring with an equal amount of anger in his eyes, directed at her.
"I didn't skip with him... it was just his idea," she said weakly, warmth fading quickly from her mind.
"Now you listen to what he tells you rather than what you know is right?" Ron cut in, starting to shout.
"No, I follow my own ideas, Ron, even if I need a break some days. You aren't the only one allowed to slack occasionally, and take the work from someone else," she gave him a cold stare, and Ron looked away in disbelief.
"Picking up habits from him now? He's the only one I've met who uses his own glare to manipulate and trick people," Harry broke in as well. She hadn't even noticed it, as she relaxed her gaze, staring at her disbelieving best friends. She looked between them, each staring at her, angry, upset, and cold towards her. She felt guilty of betrayal... but what had she done? Skipped one day? It's not like that was grounds for expulsion or anything, she thought angrily.
They each shot her one last dirty look, before trudging toward the portrait, and left without looking back.
Stunned at what had occurred, she laid down on the couch, with her knees bent, feet on the far end as she closed her eyes. She was beyond confused; what had gotten into them? It's not like she was sleeping with the enemy or anything... They had clearly overreacted. Wrapping her arms tight around her, she gave into the urge to let a tear slide down her cheek, and another... and another...
He walked gracefully down the stairs, an hour later, as he felt sure that Potter and Weasley would have done him a favour and disappeared by then. He was shocked to see Hermione, with her eyes tightly shut, silent tears streaming rapidly down her cheeks. Over the time they had shared a common room, Draco had taken to watching his roomate; she was beyond interesting. She was still the bookworm she had always been, though something had changed.
No longer was Granger so bossy and stuck up, and she didn't frantically wait to be called on in class. She sat quietly, took notes, and left quietly. If asked a question, she would put a half-hearted answer out, though only an essential answer, nothing extra. In the common room she would often stare into the fire, or write when they didn't even have an essay. She had stopped criticizing him, even when Potter and Weasley did. In reality, he wouldn't even be able to term her an enemy anymore, and he certainly didn't hate her.
That didn't mean he felt anything for her either. Though he had to wonder why she was on the couch, crying her emotions out, unaware he was even there. He walked closer to her, staring intently, until she noticed his presence, and her eyes shot open. She stared blankly, not even bothering to lift a hand and wipe the tears away.
Neither spoke for a minute, before Draco jerked his gaze away, sitting down in an armchair, and looking instead at the fire.
"Spill," he stated simply. It wasn't cold and demanding, but not warm either. It was more a statement, disguising itself as a question, and it threw her off guard. "You keep too much to yourself; you'll blow up some day," he continued matter-of-factly.
"I keep to myself? Coming from the king of mystery?" She asked, voice strangely high-pitched. "Sorry, it's just Harry and Ron."
"I know, I knew it had to be, what did they do was what I meant," he said simply.
"Behaved as usual guys would, mainly assholes," she said, with a slight grin. He looked a tad rejected, though he said nothing. "Got mad at me, mad at you, mainly. They seem to think living with you has corrupted me," she said, shrugging.
"I should certainly hope so," he said absent mindedly, and she hit him lightly on the arm, as he gave her a wicked grin. On one of the rare moments where he opened at all, Hermione had started to notice she enjoyed when he showed emotion. The most she had ever seen however, were sardonic grins, and slight frowns, though she couldn't help but think that maybe just someday she might see more...
"Can I ask you something?" He asked, leaning back in his chair, eyes fogged over in thought.
"Yes, you may ask another something," she stated, as his lips twitched.
"What compels you to be so bloody perfect, Granger? You've got it all... perfect grades, high morals," he said, looking thoughtful, perhaps wondering about himself. "Great friends, though I may not happen to think so, you're absolutely beautiful..." he trailed off, as she looked directly at him.
"I'm not..." she shrugged, looking away.
"I wouldn't say you were if you weren't," he said with a simple honesty, that she knew he was truthful. "But why? Do you need it, or do you even want it? It seems to me as if you're about ready to burst, that you don't even want perfection," he continued on, almost with an edge of desperation to his tone.
"I hate it..." she whispered, and he didn't appear in the least shocked. "I want... I don't know what I want... I guess I want to be more like you," she admitted, glancing at him, to gauge his reaction.
"Me? You mean, cold-hearted, bitter, angry, hated and downright sexy?" He asked, in a perfectly serious tone that she couldn't help but laugh.
"No, I mean like freer, able to live life, unhindered by petty grades. You're perfect, and you know it, don't deny it, Malfoy, you're just a bit lacking in the human emotions department," she explained.
"Then obviously I'm not perfect," he countered.
"You..." she continued on, "you're not afraid to skip class, or lie to a teacher, you aren't worried when you get detention. Me... I go crazy if I forget an assignment until the day before, I'm not able to even break away, to do anything truly wrong," she realized she was babbling, and fully expected him to have walked away, though he was still staring intently at her. Damn those eyes, she thought, with their intoxicating fire.
"Honestly, Granger, what do you think of me?" He asked, lips curved into a smirk.
"I suppose, you're the person who's tormented me and my best friends since first year, until only recently; you're the epitome of badness, wrongness, and everything I could never be," she said sadly. "What do you even want?"
"Granger let me try something... an experiment maybe," he said after a while, as he stood and walked to her couch. "Stand up," he said softly, and she did as he asked.
He lifted a pale, slender hand to her tear-stained cheek, moving in drastically, until he captured her lips with his. Out of pure shock and instinct, she lifted a hand to push him away, though stopped halfway through the gesture. His lips on hers felt incredible; she was burning inside, though she never wanted the feeling to diminish. Instead she placed her hand lightly on his shoulder, and slowly, began to kiss him back. She gasped slightly as he bit lightly on her lower lip, and his tongue slipped into her open mouth.
Her mind was screaming at her; this is your enemy! Her mind didn't seem to be presently able to control her actions however, as she began to respond further to his advances, and she felt his hot, wonderful hands moving against her. She lay her other hand on his chest, giving in to the feelings, and the pure thrill of Malfoy. She was doing something she had never imagined, something incredibly bad. Something reckless.
As suddenly as he had began, he stopped, pulling away, eyes filled with something Hermione couldn't place. He seemed to be watching her closely, as her breathing slowly returned to normal, and she looked at him inquisitively.
"If I'm the epitome of wrongness," he breathed, right against her ear, "then you've just done something 'truly wrong'." She gaped wildly at him, that was what she had said... but she most definitely wasn't expecting him to do that. "You really shouldn't do that, you look like a fish out of water, Granger." He smirked widely, staring into her own eyes, almost challenging.
He took a glance at the clock on the table beside the couch. "Good night, Granger," he said softly. He walked nearly to the stairs before he turned around. "Oh, and as for what I want... I desire above all, redemption."