I Don't Know You
One Moment
A few days later, Draco spent his free period catching up on homework in the head boy and girl common room that he shared with Hermione.
They had separate bedrooms and bathrooms but they shared a common room that connected their bedrooms.
Draco was sprawled on his favorite couch that faced a fireplace blazing brightly. He stalled beginning his homework. NEWT year really was as demanding as everyone had said it would be. And worse.
His train of thought was interrupted by a distraught looking Hermione entering the room. She must have a free as well. He studied her openly, remembering his vow to learn more about her, as she sat in the armchair alongside the couch, removing folders and parchment and a quill from her bag. She began to write feverously, but then stopped.
"You know, I can't concentrate with you staring at me like that," she stated directly, without looking up from her work.
Draco immediately averted his gaze, shocked that she had seen him, realizing how utterly ridiculous he must have appeared.
"Uhh... Sorry." Wow, that was decent of me. She must have noticed it too, for she raised her head and looked at him quizzically.
"Malfoy, I'm surprised at you. Here we are, having spent nearly a quarter of the year as roommates, unfortunately," Hermione added, "and never once have you apologized- For anything."
He glanced around the room nervously, hoping she wasn't expecting him to say something. To his immense relief, she continued.
"In fact," she put on an expression of mock thought, "I don't recall you ever apologizing for anything, ever; in over six years of us knowing each other."
He cleared his throat. "I uhh… I guess not."
This reply seemed to only puzzle her more, but she resumed her work anyway.
He drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch, desperately searching for a way to prolong the conversation.
"How's life?" he spat out, rather lamely.
"Good…?"
Draco returned to his thoughts, mortified. He relaxed into the warmth and comfort of the sofa. What is with her? I want to know what is going on in her head. What is she thinking?
She was different than any other girl he had met. She wasn't particularly pretty, but despite that she still she had this mysterious air of maturity and self-confidence that no others had. Where did it come from? Why? Why? Why?
Without thinking, he decided it was time to find out.
"Granger- Can I ask you something?"
"Oh, I suppose so, yes." She seemed a bit flustered. His real personality continued to show in unaccepted ways, and she clearly couldn't quite believe that he was the same person who had tormented her for all these years. It delighted him to know just how much he was confusing her. Finally, something she doesn't know…someone…
"I…" Right then, it dawned on Draco how stupid this was going to sound. Embarrassed, he attempted to cover his tracks.
"What are you working on?" he asked stupidly, practically smacking himself for acting so ridiculous. This was Granger. He, Draco Malfoy, Slytherin king, would never ask a Gryffindor, not to mention a muggle born, something like that. He ought to have thought up something more convincing.
He turned away, the color of his cheeks rapidly deepening. He was making such a fool out of himself.
"Umm, I'm writing a letter."
Silence. He hadn't expected this. He had assumed that it was school work or something.
"To who?" he blurted out, before he could stop himself.
"Not that it's any of your business, but it's to Viktor. Viktor Krum."
"Oh." He had forgotten the whole Hermione-Krum thing, but it surprised him anyway to hear that it was still going on. Three years!
It even made him a little angry. Hermione shouldn't be with him, he's way older! He's not her type, anyway. Too much muscle. Too grumpy.
Draco shook these thoughts out of his head. Who was he to care? He had Pansy. God, he was acting like a nine year old. Jealous of anyone who had a relationship, wanting things he can't have. And when he gets it, he soon grows tired of it.
I'm so immature. Just look at her. She knows who she is; she knows her purpose in life. What's her secret?
Before he knew it, the period was over. Time to return to class. To her shock, he let her pass through the portrait before him.
"Ladies first," he said politely, surprising himself more than her.
"Umm… thanks?" she glared at him suspiciously.
The following three days passed without much event. He had a large load of homework, but luckily none of it was due the next day. He permitted himself an afternoon of rest.
Draco wandered down the corridor back to the common room.
"Grindylows," he told the portrait, and it swung open.
Hermione was already there, buried in her work. It irked him to discover that she was occupying his favorite place on the couch. She should know by now that that's where I always sit...
"Get off, Granger," he barked.
"Ah, back to your old self again, are we? And I thought I was getting through to you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Malfoy. You and I know perfectly well what happened earlier this week," she said, her voice full of that all-knowing, ominous tone that he despised.
His temper boiled and raged at this comment. Who was she to…How…? She doesn't know anything about me!
"Are you sure it was me? 'Cause I don't have any idea what the hell you're talking about, and I don't give a damn either," he snapped.
"I seem to have touched a nerve," she paused, unsure of how to continue. "A few days ago…"
He waited, resisting the temptation to throw something.
"You were different, I think. But I don't really know what I think, I guess. Or what it means."
He didn't say anything.
"I realize that I've never really talked to you this much before, and now that I have…I guess…"
Her words weren't entirely clear to him, but they were calming all the same. He sat down beside her on the sofa, feeling rather awkward, his temper subsiding.
She appeared to be lost in thought. Maybe it hadn't been fair of him to play with her mind like that. Maybe he shouldn't have revealed himself so openly. Maybe…
"Well, maybe I'm not who you think I am," he ventured.
"That did actually occur to me. But where does the old Malfoy end and the new Malfoy begin? Have you really…changed?"
"What do you mean?"
She sighed. "I mean," she explained, "that I've known you all these years. And for the first three or so, you were genuinely cruel and harsh and rude and-"
"Where are you going with this?"
"But lately," she persisted, "I've noticed that your heart isn't quite in it anymore. Your insults seem overdone, exaggerated. Maybe you don't… hate me and Harry and Ron as much as you would like us to think you do," she concluded, obviously unsure if she had articulated her thoughts correctly.
"So you're basically saying you see right through me and my little 'act'."
"It sounds awful when you put it like that, but I think I do."
"You do."
"Yes."
"Do you know what I'm thinking right now?"
He moved a little closer to her.
"Well…" she was apparently unaware of his movement, "You're either thinking I'm completely insane, or I'm right on the money, and you're spooked that I know you so well having hardly spoken to you at length until recently."
"One of the two," he laughed a little, despite himself. What is wrong with me?
He unglued his eyes from the spot on the floor he had been determinedly staring at, dragging them up to meet Hermione's.
Without warning, a sudden urge to kiss her senseless swelled through his bones and his veins and his brain and the tips of his fingers and toes. Time halted. He felt his face burn as her flaming gaze peeled away at his skin, revealing his true self, who he had been hiding from all these years.
It must have showed, for she looked away, ending the moment abruptly. Had she felt the heat as well?
Draco felt utterly weak. What had happened? What was that?
"I- I better get back to work," she stammered, standing up and carrying her bag to her room. The sound of the slam of her bedroom door brought him back to reality.
(A/N: Finally, something has happened! Keep reviewing, the more reviews, the faster I will update.)