Author's Note: This was kind of spontaneous. Actually I was writing an e-mail to my penpal Jenny (shouts out to Jenny if she's reading this) and I mentione the Hermione/Draco ship and then decided I should write. I kind of made this up from the top of my head and it was kind of uninspired
Read and Reveiw please? :)
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns allllll.
It's funny to think about him sometimes.
It's funny to think he caved on his mission, it's funny he's not what he seemed. It's funny that we still call him Ferret sometimes. It's funny how when he walks down the stairs in the morning he hits his elbow on the banister—every single time. It's funny how agitated he is without coffee, it's funny how agitated he is with coffee.
It's funny how he talks to himself, it's funny how he yells at himself when he thinks he's alone. It's funny how he writes in a diary, but it's funnier when he calls it a journal. It's funny how he bangs on the piano, it's funny that he named the piano.
It's funny how he draws on his walls, it's funny how the drawings are so intricately designed. It's funny when he stares at the ceiling, it's funny when he talks to the ceiling. It's funny how he calls the ceiling Merlin, it's funny how the ceiling doesn't talk back.
"Why are you talking to the ceiling?"
He stares. "I'm talking to Merlin."
"Malfoy, Merlin doesn't live in the ceiling."
He laughs roughly. "You know, they once called you brilliant."
It's funny when he cuts himself shaving, it's funny 'cause there was never hair there. It's funny when he walks to his room with seven books to study, it's funny when he stumbles and falls. It's funny when he stands up and takes of his shoes, it's funny how he claims he can't study otherwise.
"Fungus."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Fungus. I worry about fungus between my toes when I work."
It's funny watching his boyish immature side take over when he picks out lint from his toes, it's funny when he scolds his feet when he does this.
It's funny how he still calls my friend Potty, it's funny how he still calls me Granger.
"Duel with me, Hermione."
I stare at him quizzically. He gags.
"Sounds weird," he says, frowning.
"I agree. What's wrong using surnames among friends anyway?"
He smiles. "It's a load of utter tosh what they say about calling people by their surnames."
I giggle.
"You said tosh."
It's funny how he laughs at things that aren't amusing, it's funny how he laughs with me when nobody else does.
It's funny how he doesn't know I hear him at night, it's funny how he thinks I don't care.
"Go away, Mudblood."
"No, and yes—I know you really mean it."
"Good. I do, so why aren't you gone?"
I sit down next to him. He looks up furiously, tear streaks adorning his red cheeks, but he doesn't act. Moments pass, and he tears his eyes away from mine.
"My father's dead."
It's funny how he still cries for his father even though he hated him, it's funny how he still takes me handkerchief. It's funny that there's no physical contact involved, but it's funnier that I didn't get my handkerchief back.
It's funny how he thinks he knows everything, it's funny how he thinks I know more. It's funny when he's surprised I don't like heights.
"You don't like riding on broomsticks?"
"Never. I hate being in the air. I hate broomsticks."
"How in the world did you manage to become Harry Potter's best friend?"
It's funny how he convinces me to go flying with him, it's funny how I don't open my eyes. It's funny how by saying one word, he could get me to do almost anything for him.
"Please?"
It's funny how I open my eyes, and it's funny how I love the view. It's funny that I'm not afraid of heights anymore.
It's funny how he says he's not afraid of anything, it's funny how he screams like a woman when the thunder rumble—It's funny that he screams.
"It's just a sound and a light. What's so wrong about that?"
"You're right. Nothing."
There's a clap of thunder, and with a bolt of lighting, the room is pitched into darkness. Then there's a girlish sceram.
"…you're afraid of thunderstorms!"
"No I'm not. That was your stupid cat."
It's funny that he's such a Malfoy.
It's funny how when I bring him outside the house, he stares up at the dark sky, it's funny how his brow creases when he squints like that. It's funny how he demands he go back inside, and it's funny how I tell him not a chance.
"It's cold and wet."
"What is?"
"The rain. It's sticky and useless."
"Rain keeps the flowers growing."
"Bullocks."
It's funny how he doesn't believe me, and its funny how at this moment he doesn't seem to care about the rain. It's funny how he doesn't flinch or scream at the thunder after that, it's funny how we fall asleep on the couch wrapped up in blankets in front of the fire.
It's funny how we don't speak of it in the morning.
It's funny how during Christmas, he becomes bitter, it's funny how he helps me bake the cookies.
"I have a confession."
My heart gives a jolt. Confession? From Malfoy?
"Yeah?"
"I've never baked anything in my life."
It's funny how he's shy when he says this, it's funny that he lets me laugh at him. He laughs with me again. It's funny that I can't think of a time where I've laughed without him laughing with me. It's funny how he lets me teach him how to bake the cookies.
It's funny how he doesn't like shopping, it's funny how he give me a handful of galleons and demands I buy him robes. It's funny how I drag him along.
It's funny walking in the streets with him, for he whistles while he walks. It's funny that he buys me a drink while he runs off for a minute or two. It's funny how I notice his hair sway as he turns the corner and out onto the windy street.
"So he has come to the light side, Hermione?"
Rosmerta places a bottle of butterbeer in front of me.
"He has."
"You're sure?"
"Minerva McGonagall believes so."
She purses her lips and nods to me. "Well so he has."
I look up at Rosmerta, waiting. She finally takes a deep breath,
"Why?"
A wave of answers crashed on top of me. I smiled.
"I'm not sure."
It's funny how when he walks back in, Rosmerta bustles off. It's funny when I ask where'd you get off to?, he asks how's the butterbeer?. It's funny when I tell him it's good, he takes me butterbeer, and downs it in one gulp. It's funny when I tell him he's a human vacuum, he asks me curiously what is a vacuum?
It's funny how when Christmas comes around, the first thing I get from a small grey, almost silver owl is a box with Malfoy's name on the top. It's funny how the note attatched is short and simple.
"This necklace reminded me of you."
It's funny that when I open the box, there's a necklace with a gem at the bottom that shines so many colors I wonder if the rainbow can fit them all. It's funny that after reading the note over and over I realized he didn't mean I was unique—he meant I was beautiful.
"Thank you."
He doesn't look up from the newspaper he's reading.
"Happy Christmas," he says dryly, turning a page slowly.
I'm quiet, then I ask bravely, "You think I'm beautiful?"
He cocks an eyebrow, still looking at the newspaper.
"Did you read the note?"
"Yes," I say, my fluttering heart faltering slightly.
"Do you know what it means?"
"Yes—no."
"I sometimes wonder if you have a brain," he laughs slightly. He doesn't mention Hogwarts, or how I was top of my class. He never speaks of Hogwarts, but its mutual.
"So, is that a yes?"
"Yes."
I smile. "You think I'm beautiful."
"I'm trying to read here, short stuff."
It's funny that he's taken to calling me 'short stuff'. It's a mockery he and Harry like to make of me—my height and nothing else. But… it's funny that he's the only one who calls me 'short stuff', and that's how it'll ever be.
After Christmas, his mother died.
Then suddenly, it's not that funny anymore. It's not funny that he's now quiet, it's not funny that he now does not laugh with me. It's not funny that he doesn't take me on his broom anymore, it's not funny that he kept it locked away.
It's not funny how he doesn't speak to himself, it's not funny how he doesn't speak. It's not funny that he doesn't look at me anymore, it's not funny that he only looks at the ceiling.
It's not funny anymore how he talks to Merlin, it's not funny anymore how he yells at himself. It's not funny anymore how he's become afraid of thunderstorms, it's not funny anymore that he's started calling me 'Mudblood' again.
It's not funny that I woke up one night without my necklace around my neck, but with a string and a piece of parchment attached to it.
It's not funny that the parchment was blank.
It's not funny how he shops alone, it's not funny how he only talks to Harry. It's not funny that the piano is gone from his room, it's not funny that his fingers have weakened.
And then he talked to me after seven months of change and ignoring me. I hadn't been informed, but Voldemort had come back. After two grueling years of work, Harry had destroyed him. He can't be back, I said dumbly. He didn't answer.
He looked away. "He wants you."
He wanted me and Harry dead. Ron was dead already, and Voldemort could see Harry weakened then. Me? I asked.
"You." He said it so gently I wanted to cry from everything. I didn't question him further. I had learned in the past few years that there was no joking around in the Order about anything, and Malfoy was always truthful, no matter who he used to be.
He walked away from me, but not before fastening a necklace around my neck. It was the same necklace he had gotten me before, and the feeling was mutual.
He believed I was beautiful, but it wasn't funny anymore.
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