Sunday, May 9th, 1999
Hermione's Dormitory
4:00PM
Whilst Hermione had been the one too busy to interact with Draco upon their return to Hogwarts after Easter, just two weeks following their lunch with his mother, she was the one to wake in an empty bed. As the end of term and the beginning of exams drew ever nearer, so did the final Quidditch match of the year, and her boyfriend was taking every spare moment possible to train. It had started with shortened meals and longer runs around the Black Lake, and had since extended to waking before dawn to train, forcing the team through rigorous sessions.
Now, as she sat in her dormitory with a textbook on her lap, she heard the approach of tired feet up the staircase, a gait she associated with Draco. Indeed, the Slytherin did appear at the archway, hair wet, matted across his forehead from the rain outside, training gear muddy.
Before either of them spoke, he was up the hall and into her bedroom. She heard the bathroom door shut and the water start up and knew that it had been a difficult training session. In order to placate her boyfriend, Hermione unfolded herself from the couch and set about fixing a pot of tea and a few snacks. She was just carrying the tray over to the coffee table when Draco emerged, hair messy and dripping, skin pink from the shower.
"I made tea," she said. She moved to sit down, but Draco was in front of her, pulling her back to her feet. He kissed her, softly at first, and then hard enough to take her breath away. "What was that for?"
"For making it a good day."
"How was training?" she asked, resuming her seat.
"Shit," he said. "The rain is the problem."
"Gryffindor won't show any mercy, you know that," she reminded him. When she had spent any time with Ginny recently, the fiery redhead and captain of the Gryffindor team had been talking nonstop about her determination to take the Quidditch Cup one last time whilst she was still at school. "And Ginny says there'll be scouts at the final, too. She's already being looked at by a few teams."
"But no pressure or anything," Draco muttered.
"Draco, you'll be fine," Hermione said.
"And who will you be cheering for from the stands?" he asked.
"You, of course," she answered. "I'll be cheering for you but hoping that Gryffindor win."
He frowned. "As a Seeker, your strategy seems problematic," he said, "but I'll take it anyway. I suppose it's the most I'm going to get."
"I'm most definitely still a Gryffindor at heart, and Ginny would absolutely murder me if I was in the Slytherin stand. Not to mention Harry and Ron who are coming to the match, too."
"It just gets better and better," Draco sighed, putting an arm around Hermione and pulling her against him. She propped her feet up on the sofa, resting her head in his lap. "Will you at least come to victory party?"
"If you win, I suppose I will," Hermione grinned. "Otherwise I'll be attending the pity party. But I'd have to go to Gryffindor's celebratory party first." She felt him sigh. "But I'm certain that yours will be the winning team. Honestly, with the frequency of your training sessions and their intensity, it seems highly improbable that you'll lose. You've got a strong team, Draco."
"The problem is that so do Gryffindor. Even without Potter they manage to pull the biggest victories out of nowhere."
"Draco, you know I hate talking Quidditch," she said. "You're the better Seeker, and in the scheme of things, that's what matters. Just forget about the rest of your team and go after the Snitch."
"That's brilliant advice, Granger. I never thought that I should go for the Snitch. All this time I've been aiming to catch the Quaffle."
"You're hilarious," she said, sitting up. "If you don't want my help then don't ask for it." She stood, clearing away the used cups with a flick of her wand. "Anyway, I promised I'd meet up with Ginny so I have to go."
"Meeting with the enemy?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Your enemy but my best friend." Hermione bent down and kissed him quickly, smiling against his lips when he pulled her back onto the couch. "Draco, I have to go," she said, but he paid her no mind as he kissed along her jaw and down her neck. She sighed as he moved back up to her lips, moving against his in sync.
"Still want to go and see Weasley?" he asked between kisses. His hand fiddled with the hem of her shirt, fingertips grazing her lower back in a way that sent lightning down her spine.
"No," she admitted, "but I promised I would." With great reluctance, she pulled herself away from Draco, not letting him get one last kiss, knowing that it would tip her over the edge and she'd never make it to Ginny. "I'll be back in a couple of hours."
"You're ruining me, Granger," he said.
"I'll take that as a compliment," she replied, tucking her wand into her back pocket as she ducked down the stairs and out into the halls of Hogwarts.
With the rain, students were milling about inside, the weather forcing them to return to their studies with the upcoming approach of exams. On her way to the Gryffindor common room, where she and Ginny had agreed to meet, Hermione passed several groups huddled in the corridors, working away and revising. She paused for a brief chat to Neville who had donned a rain jacket, on his way to the greenhouses to help Professor Sprout with some repotting.
Ginny was waiting in the common room, curled into one of the plushest armchairs, the other one reserved for Hermione. Of course, as soon as Hermione sat down, Ginny jumped in, asking if she knew anything about the Slytherin's tactics for the upcoming match.
"Gin, even if I did, I wouldn't tell you," Hermione said, trying not to roll her eyes at her friend's behaviour. She knew Ginny was under a lot of pressure with the scouts coming out to watch her play. "Just play smart. You know what to do."
"Yeah, get Malfoy and Zabini out early," Ginny said. Upon seeing Hermione's disgruntled face, she continued. "Look, I won't pretend to understand what you see in him, but if we get Malfoy out, they have no Seeker. It's just tactics. Not personal."
"Can we talk about something that isn't Quidditch related? That's all Draco talks about at the moment and it's doing my head in."
"Fine," Ginny agreed. "How is your Potions assignment going? Ready to present?"
What was arguably the biggest assignment during their life at Hogwarts was due into Slughorn the next day, each pair needing a completed sample of their potion with documentation proving the research and time they had spent on it. Hermione, though certain her assignment with Draco was up to scratch, was quite nervous. She knew that Draco being accepted into the Healer program at St Mungo's was largely reliant on the outcome of their work, and although they had proven that it worked in the past, the anxiety still rested in her.
"I think so. We've done one trial and it worked well, though not perfectly. There's a lot riding on this assignment for Draco, so hopefully it works out. How's your potion?"
"Oh, you know. Getting there," Ginny said. "Honestly, schoolwork isn't top priority right now. If I can do well in Quidditch then that's what's important. That and getting married are what matter."
"Have you and Harry talked at all about the wedding?" Hermione asked, angling to steer the conversation away from Quidditch again. She was successful, Ginny beginning to talk about how she wanted to be married soon, but not too soon, that she wanted to be certain of her career before the wedding.
Pleased for the chance to catch up with one of her closest friends, Hermione sunk into her chair and let the conversation flow, covering everything from Ginny's nuptials to their Transfiguration exam until it was time for dinner. Ginny, the Weasley that she was, claimed that she was starving.
"I'd better go check on Draco," Hermione said. "He's in my room, completely wrecked from training. I'll meet you down there."
"Suit yourself," Ginny said.
They climbed through the portrait hole, walking part of the way together in a comfortable silence until Hermione broke away to return to her dormitory. Climbing the stairs, she couldn't hear a sound coming from her room, and she wondered whether or not Draco had returned to the Slytherin common room in her absence. However, upon entering her dormitory, she saw him lying down on the couch, fast asleep, hair in his eyes.
She smiled, gathering a blanket from her bed to lay over him and gently lifting his head to place a pillow beneath it. He hardly stirred, even when she pushed the hair back from his face, and she didn't have the heart to wake him for dinner. Instead, she made herself a cup of tea and sat with it on the floor by the coffee table, her notes for the Potions presentation spread out around her. The scratching of her quill was the only sound in the room until the temperature started to drop and she lit a fire in the grate, her note taking accompanied by merry crackling.
Having finished reviewing their first attempt at the potion, Hermione heard Draco stir behind her. A quiet groan and the rustle as he threw the blanket away.
"What time is it?" he asked and she glanced at her watch.
"Oh. Eight o'clock. We missed dinner," she said. "I didn't realize how late it was."
He joined her on the floor, stretching out so his feet extended beneath the coffee table and his back rested against the lounge. "I'm starved. I can't even think about Potions until I get some food. How was Weasley?"
"She was good," Hermione said, standing up. "I don't really have anything substantial to eat. I'll ask a house elf to make something."
"I thought you didn't like that house elves work for wizards," Draco said, leaning forward and surveying her notes. "Didn't you start that ridiculous campaign when we were younger?"
"I don't like house elves being kept as slaves, but if they're being paid for their services and are happy to be working, I have no problems with them. It's only when people like your father treat elves the way he treated Dobby." She felt a tug at her heart at the mention of the deceased house elf. "Winky!"
There was a sharp crack in the air and the house elf appeared in the room, dressed in a neat pink blouse and skirt. "You called for Winky, miss?" she squeaked, bowing.
"There's no need to bow, Winky," Hermione said, crouching down so she was eye level with the elf. "How are you going?"
"Winky is fine, miss. Winky has stopped drinking Butterbeer and is happy to be serving at Hogwarts."
"That's wonderful," Hermione placed a hand on the elf's tiny shoulder. "Now, I was wondering if I could ask you a favour? Could you please bring us some dinner? We don't need much."
"Of course, miss. Winky is most happy to help!"
There was another crack and she disappeared. Hermione rejoined Draco on the floor.
"Do you know all the sodding house elves at Hogwarts?" he asked, putting an arm around her shoulders.
"No, not personally. I only know two of them. Winky had a drinking problem and I like to check that she's okay from time to time," Hermione said.
"You're so bloody strange," Draco replied, kissing her temple.
Winky reappeared, a large tray held in her hands. As usual, the elves had overcompensated, and the tray was laden with two types of soup, four plates of sandwiches, a jug of pumpkin juice, and three different choices for dessert. Hermione leapt up to help the elf, placing the tray on the counter in the kitchenette and thanking Winky once more.
"'Tis no problem at all, miss," she squeaked, bowing low and vanishing.
Draco joined Hermione in serving himself, piling multiple sandwiches on the one plate and scooping out two plates of soup. They settled at the dining table, neither feeling particularly talkative, and ate in silence. Draco went back for two more sandwiches and another bowl of soup.
"How can you possibly need to eat that much?" Hermione asked, consistently baffled by the sheer amount of food boys (and Ginny) managed to consume.
"Quidditch," Draco said. He scooped up the last of his soup, clearing their plates with a flick of his wand, and bringing over dessert. A small apple pie for her, another for him, plus a bonus fruit plate to share. "Also, Granger, how much work do you plan on presenting to Slughorn? We're already going to be the most accomplished pair in the class. There's no need to rub it in everyone's faces."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I documented each stage of the brewing process as well as our initial recipes and each test we went through. I think it's all crucial information for him to receive."
"Including the topless kissing?" Draco smirked.
"If I recall correctly, you were the only one topless," Hermione said, clearing their finished dessert plates. She returned to her seat on the floor, pulling her work towards her.
Draco joined her on the floor and they worked in silence until midnight when their textbooks closed and, with Draco almost too weary to make his way to the bedroom, they retired for the night.
"NO!"
Hermione woke herself up with her scream, skin sticky with sweat. A red-hot light burnt behind her eyes. She could feel herself shaking and a distant sound that reminded her of Draco's voice but couldn't possibly be. Her skin prickled all over and each mark that remained from Bellatrix's blade seared in pain. In her mind, there was still a cackle and an ominous hum, accompanied by the sound of a knife through flesh.
"Hermione," came the almost-Draco through the fog. There was pressure on her arm, a hand against her skin. It cooled the area and she could feel the haze lifting, the impossible sounds fading. "Hermione, it was just a nightmare. You're okay. I'm here. I have you."
With no idea of what else she could do, Hermione dissolved into tears, curling her body into Draco's chest. His unclothed torso was chilled with the night air and she lay a cheek against it. "We were dying," she said. "All of us. Over and over. And I couldn't stop it. None of us could stop it."
"It was just a nightmare," he reminded her, running a hand through her hair.
"I watched you die," she said, getting a handle on her emotions, "and I couldn't do anything."
"But I'm right here." He shifted her up so her head was back on a pillow, wiping away the last tears that escaped with a delicate hand. "I'm right here and I'm alive."
Hermione took a few deep breaths. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I woke you."
"Granger, it's fine. It's almost five o'clock and I was going to get up then for a run, so it's really fine."
"I'm going to have a shower," she decided, flinging off the sheets.
It wasn't until the water was scalding that Hermione stepped into the cubicle, letting the spray wash away the salt that clung to her skin. She shuddered at memories of her nightmare, forcing her mind to other things. It drifted to the weekend prior, to the solemn cloud that had hovered over Hogwarts on the anniversary of the battle. There had been a service held in the main courtyard and a more formal affair she had been invited to at the Ministry, but Hermione had woken with her heart in her stomach and had spent the day in bed.
Whilst she had thought she was coping well now that her life was well on track, the one year anniversary had reminded her of all the horrors of the battle, even if it was only for a day. She had sprung out of bed as usual the following day, but Sunday had been spent with red eyes, a desperate longing for her parents, and an exceptional number of tissue boxes.
She shut off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it tight around her body and returning to her bedroom. She could hear Draco in the kitchen and changed into her uniform, pulling her hair into a bun at the sounds of china clinking.
When Hermione joined him in the kitchen, he had made a pot of tea and taken them over to the lounge where the fire was crackling. It was a merry situation, lifting her mood and warming her from the inside out. He came over to her, cupping her face and kissing her softly.
"Feeling better?" he asked, pulling her over to the couch and pouring out their tea. He sat down and pulled her against him, left arm wrapped around her torso. Against his pale skin, the faded Dark Mark shifted with his muscle movements. Hermione placed her fingertips against the mark, tracing it. "Sorry. Forgot to put a bandage on."
"It's fine," she said, pressing down. "Really." Draco shuddered at her touch, the snake trembling with the movement. "Did it hurt?"
Draco sipped at his tea. "A bit," he admitted. "More when he called for us. Then it would burn."
"I'm sorry."
"What do you have to be sorry for, Granger? It was my choice. No one forced me to take the Mark."
"You were just a kid, Draco," she said. "And it wasn't as though you'd had any chance to learn anything different. It was less your choice and more your father's."
He shrugged. "I suppose," he said. "But I can't change it so I don't dwell on it anymore. It was hell, I survived, I moved on."
"Do you still have nightmares?"
"Not when I'm sleeping with you. This is the first you've had in months."
Hermione paused her tracing of the tattoo. "I think it was last week. The anniversary just brought everything back. I keep remembering the battle over and over and I suppose it leeched into my unconscious mind." She recalled the screams. "It was awful."
He kissed her again. "It was hell. You survived. We move on, Granger."
Monday, May 10th, 1999
Potions Classroom
2:00PM
Draco could tell his girlfriend was nervous as Slughorn called their names out to come and present their work. He hid a yawn behind his hand as they made their way to the professor's desk, notes in hand. Hermione had three times the amount of work he had to hand in and he could hear her going through her lines beneath her breath.
"Nutter," he whispered to her."
"Draco, m'boy, and Miss Granger!" Slughorn said. "Take a seat. Let's see what you've got for me." They handed their work over and let him scan quickly through their notes in silence. He paused on the recipe, nodding his head. "Well, it all appears to be in order. I've got your vials of the potion in storage but it appears your documentation is very sufficient. I look forward to looking through it properly. You two will go far, I'm sure."
Draco noticed Hermione seemed a bit deflated at the lack of formality or proper presentation, thanking Slughorn quietly and returning to her seat to pack her things.
"Smile, Granger," he suggested. "We get out of class an hour and a half early and we've just finished the biggest assignment of the year."
"I just thought there'd be more of a presentation," she said, putting her bag over her shoulder as he reached down and picked up the last of her books.
"Yeah, well, Slughorn knows that our potion will work. He's just doing this out of necessity. He might require more reassurance for someone like Blaise or Ted."
"Theo's very smart," Hermione said. "I doubt his work will be a problem."
Draco ignored the twinge in his mind at his girlfriend's affectionate tone. "He's not the best potioneer. Too heavy-handed with the ingredients."
She nodded. "I suppose I can see that. I feel like I haven't talked to Theo in an age," she said. And then, as if sensing his frustration, she added, "Daphne, too."
"You're always holed up to study," he said. They began climbing the stairs to her room. "Besides, you can't see Theo until after the final. He needs all the free time to practice that he can get."
"And you don't want me to be left alone in the same room as him," Hermione supplied.
Again, the twinge. "Would you want me to be left alone in a room with Pansy?" he asked.
"I wouldn't want it, but I trust you enough and know you'd stand your ground in precisely the same way I would if I were in a room with Theo."
"Perhaps that wasn't the most apt comparison. Pansy can at least take 'no' for an answer. Theo is far more persistent."
Hermione reached forward and tickled the squid tentacle on the painting, twisting the knob when it appeared. "And I'm quite capable of hexing his bollocks into next week," she said. "I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself."
"Girls always say that before they get involved with Ted," Draco said. "He even fucked Pansy over so badly that she was acting like a Hufflepuff."
"I'm not 'getting involved' with anyone but you, Draco," she snapped, putting her bag on the couch. "Honestly, you acting like this is getting kind of old. It's none of your business who I see unless it's romantic, and I have no intentions of seeing anyone romantically aside from yourself. I'd appreciate it if you could at least trust me to spend time with my friend."
"If I recall correctly, the last time you had time with your 'friend', he cornered you and harassed you into spending time with him."
"Oh, don't be so dramatic," she said. "He hardly cornered me and harassed is most certainly not the right word. The way you're acting right now, I'd rather be spending time with him than you."
He could tell she regretted the words the moment she said them but didn't leave a chance for retraction. "Well, good. I'll go back to my common room, then. Would you like me to send Ted up for you?" he asked, grabbing his bag and turning on his heels, marching back down the stairs and letting the painting slam behind him.
Something about his face must have scared passersby who seemed to dodge and weave around his approaching figure. He made it to the Slytherin Common Room in record time, a huddle of first years acting as though he had snarled at them and shrieking as they scuttled out of his way.
"Bad day, Drake?" Theo asked from his vantage point of the best chairs in the room.
"Fuck off, Ted," Draco said as he walked past and up to the dormitory. He felt out of place, having spent so little time in the room recently, and it took a moment for him to orientate himself. When he did, he dumped his bag on his bed, realizing he was still carrying his girlfriend's books. He fought the urge to pitch them against the wall.
Instead, he searched for some clothes he could exercise in and changed quickly, flipping Theo off again on his second trip through the common room and ignoring his confused look. If he couldn't break something (most tempting of the breakable things was Ted's nose) then Draco knew he would have to settle for a long run.