A/N: Thank you so much to my first reviewer Afrancum1 for your kind words and advice! I'll be sure to check out the other platforms you mentioned :)
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to the fabulous J.K Rowling.
Chapter 2: The Book of Hope
"You foul, loathesome, evil little cockroach!" Hermione exclaimed, wand aimed directly at the blond boy's throat. She could feel her anger, pulsating through her like lava, ready to erupt at any moment. Typical Malfoy, always got on her nerves.
Her eyes were determined, golden balls of fire staring deep into his icy blue orbs.
She could see his evil little smirk curl into a look of worry, and as she got closer, he looked more and more frightened. She saw little beads of sweat accumulating around his forehead as he wondered whether she is going to hex him or not"
"Hermione no! He's not worth it" Ron appeared behind her, his arm touching her shoulder.
Ron was right, she knew that. As Hermione lowered her wand to walk away, she heard a loud, obnoxious chuckle from none other than the boy she was about to hex. She immediately turned around and sucker punched him right in the nose. What an exhilarating feeling!
She wasn't going to let him think that she wouldn't be capable of hexing him. Like she was weak. Like maybe she really was filthy.
A filthy little mudblood.
"Hermione?"
She blinked.
"Hermione are you alright, dear?"
That's McGonagall's voice. Where was she? Oh yes, the Headmistresses office, with Draco Malfoy. Head boy Draco Malfoy.
"I'm sorry Headmistress, could you please repeat that?"
Minerva cleared her throat "I was saying, since you both are the Heads, you will staying in separate Heads quarters, in the east wing of Hogwarts. You will share a common room, but you each would have your own bedroom."
Hermione looked over to the chair next to her and at Draco. His face had lost all color and he looked equally as perplexed as she did. She felt reassured that at least she wasn't the only one flabbergasted by the entire situation. Clearly everybody in this school has lost their bloody mind.
Minerva glanced at Hermione, almost as if she was able to read her mind. She continued, "I know that there has been a lot of tension in the Wizarding World, and I know the parts you two have played. You both have been through quite an ordeal these past few years, and we have lost far too many people. But, Hogwarts is still standing, and we must pave a new way forward with a focus on inter-house unity. As such, I am not asking for you two to become best friends, though I do hope we can all move past what has happened and consider this opportunity as a fresh start"
Neither of the two said anything, so Minerva knew that her point was made.
The rest of the conversation was quite one-sided; Minerva was going over the house rules and head conduct. She then went on to list all the do's and don't's for the prefects, as well as disciplinary action that the heads are responsible for. After what seemed like hours, Minerva was finally done. "Any questions?" she asked.
Draco was the first to speak up, "Headmistress, may I have a word with you, in private?".
Hermione wondered what he had to say, she figured it would be him wanting to privately protest about the living arrangement due to her blood status, or something of the sort.
As Hermione walked out of the room, she thought back to that dreadful punch she gave Malfoy in third year and how good it felt. She also remembered his face at that moment, and she saw that face again today. It wasn't disgust, or even hate, it was fear. She wondered why he would be scared to live with her. When she arrived at the Head's dormitory, the portrait hole was unlike any other she had ever seen before. It showed a veiled figure in the distance, she couldn't decipher who it was. After sensing Hermione's presence, the figure moved closer to the front of the portrait, but their identity remained concealed, though Hermione could tell it was a woman. She was dressed in white robes and had an angelic glow around her. She held out her palm towards Hermione, motioning for her to do the same. Once Hermione put her palm against the portrait, the door unlocked itself. It didn't need a password, "Fascinating", she mused. Hermione wondered what type of charm was cast on this portrait, she would have to read about it later.
When Hermione stepped through the portrait hole and into the Head's common area, she gasped in surprise. The dormitory was better than she had ever imagined. A large sofa was sprawled by the fireplace, two sets of desks and matching chaises were adorned in their house colors, and a massive wall of bookshelves, filled to the brim with books. There were two doors on opposite sides of the room, one with gold detailing with the initials HG, and the other with DM in silver. She walked into her bedroom and was pleased to find that her Gryffindor pride was well showcased all over. Luxurious velvet curtains draped the entire room, deep red with golden tassels on its ends. She had her own bathroom en suite as well as a walk-in closet with all of her things unpacked and organized by color.
She noticed her forest green book on top of her pile of things. It was a thought journal, something her mother had told her to keep ever since she first reached Australia. She had scribbled down all her theories as to where Ron had been hiding over the months, and had pasted articles in there every day reporting unidentified bodies recovered after the war. Never had she seen a physical description matching Ron's, so she knew he had to be out there somewhere.
As Hermione sat on her bed glancing through the pages of her journal, her mind was buzzing about, astonished at her new living conditions and yet troubled by them all the same. She couldn't stop picturing the endless possible reasons as to how the Malfoys could be trying to manipulate the wizarding world. 'What is he hiding?', the thought kept ringing in her ear. Whilst deep in her thoughts, Hermione noticed she couldn't help but yawn several times. She hadn't gotten an inch of sleep since she had returned to England.
And yet, she knew that no matter how nice her dormitory looked, she didn't want to see Malfoy tonight.
Hermione exited the Head's dormitory and made her way to the Gryffindoor common room. It was familiar territory; a solace where she spend so much of her time with Harry, Ron and Ginny. She sat on the large red couch looking at the fireplace and thought of those happy times. Times when her friends would check her impulses. Times when they protected her. Who can protect her now?
Before she could answer her own question, Hermione fell into a deep slumber.
-.-.-.-.-.-
Meanwhile…
-.-.-.-.-.-
Draco waited for Hermione to exit the chambers before he spoke once again.
"Headmistress, forgive me, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, I truly appreciate everything the Ministry has done for me and am honored to be Head Boy, but I'm afraid Hermione doesn't see me in the best light-"
"Well that is of course expected, given your history and the war. However, you have done more than enough in the aftermath of the war that you should be proud of. You were brave to come back for 8th year, this school is still standing thanks to you."
Minerva let out a soft smile, then continued, "Relationships can change. Opinions can change, even sides can change. You know this better than anyone, Mr. Malfoy"
"Yes of course – actually what I wanted to tell you was that I won't be needing the spare bedroom in the Heads quarters. Since my AIT takes place close to the Manor, Mother would like me to be at home, where I can tend to the garden and keep the place in order, while shes in…. well, you know where. And I know Hermione would prefer it this way". Draco looked down as he spoke, unsure of his words.
"Very well then, Mr. Malfoy. You can stay at the Manor if you prefer, but it is your responsibility to remain attentive to your head duties. Your room in the Head's chambers will stay put. You are welcome to stay there whenever you are ready"
Draco thanked the Headmistress and bid her farewell. He glanced at his watch and realized he only had seven minutes before the last Hogwarts Express left for London. As Draco hurriedly made his way to the gates, he spotted a few Gryffindor sixth years, gossiping rather loudly.
"D'you think she's actually lost it?"
"Who are you talking about Corey?"
"Well Hermione of course! I wonder if the rumors are true about her going mental and all after Ron's death"
Draco stopped in his tracks to listen closer. He took a few steps back so that he can remain hidden and listen to their conversation. What were they talking about? Hermione didn't look insane when she literally wished death upon him and his family mere moments ago.
"Nah I doubt it mate", the other Gryffindor boy said. "If she actually did go mad then why wouldn't she just get admitted to St. Mungo's where everyone else was? There's no magic where she went"
"She must have gone to muggle healers then. I heard she was seeing things, and talking to the ghost of Ron! Probably still love-struck and all"
That was it, Draco didn't want to eavesdrop any longer. He stepped forward and confronted the two boys, who now had fear plastered all over their face. "You two! Go back to your dormitories before I deduct 20 points from each of you. Its past curfew."
The two boys immediately stammered a quick "Sorry" and rushed off towards the Gryffindor Common Room. 'Stupid rumors' Draco hissed to himself. He checked his watch and realized that in the midst of all his snooping around, he had missed his train. "Fuck" – he cursed to himself. Looks like he would be staying in the Heads dormitory that night after all.
The portrait hole opened into his dormitory and he scoffed at the arrangement of it all. It was very "inter-house unified" to say the least. He knew Hermione wouldn't want to see him so he decided to make himself a cup of tea and take it to his bedroom. As he was heating the kettle, he noticed Hermione's door was wide open.
"Granger?" He called. After waiting a few minutes to no reply, he assumed she hadn't come back yet and decided to call it a night.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"You foul, loathesome, evil little cockroach!"
He looked at Hermione, and for the first time ever, was genuinely afraid of what she would do to him. He had never seen that expression before in a girl, let alone those eyes.
"He's not worth it" he heard Ron say from behind her. He studied Hermione's reaction, how she was in agreement with that pale-faced Weasel. He felt a pang in his chest, and wasn't sure why he was so irritated by this. Did it bother him that they said he wasn't worth hexing, or did it bother him that she agreed?
She left no room for imagination as her hand rolled into a fist and aimed straight at his….
*THUD*
Draco woke up on his bedroom floor, covered in sweat and shock. He's had nightmares in the past about the Dark Lord, the war, all the torture in Azkaban over the summer; but never did he have a flashback of anything like this. He remembered that moment vividly; it was third year, he was being his usual arsehole self and eventually received a well deserved punch from the Gryffindor princess. He wondered why he was thinking about it now.
As he made his way to the Head's kitchen to heat up the kettle again, he noticed that Hermione's bedroom door was still open. He called her name again and heard no response. He decided to investigate. Draco arrived at the edge of Hermione's door and knocked. He peered his eyes in; the bed was still made, and her things were neatly placed on it. It looked untouched, so he deduced that she must have not come home. Draco couldn't pinpoint what was the unsettling feeling emerging within his stomach, but he vehemently denied that it was worry.
He slowly stepped into the Head Girl's room, hoping to find something, anything, to tell him where she was. As he approached the foot of her bed, he noticed a luminous green book that stood out to him. He didn't know what became of him but at that very moment, he leaned forward and picked it up. He tried to open it, but it wouldn't open. He pried even harder when…
"What are you doing in my room, Malfoy?"
Draco turned his head around so fast that it could have broken his neck. Hermione was standing at the edge of her door, eyes sneering at Draco holding her green book.
"Where were you last night, Granger?" He bit back.
"That's not answering my question. Tell me what you are doing here, with that book" Hermione leaned against her door, arms crossed in front of her chest. Draco swallowed.
"Well you didn't come back last night so I wanted to make sure you didn't die on my watch. It's called decency. Now what the hell is this?" He motioned toward the book he was holding, and mimicking his actions of being unable to pry it open. He was able to see bits of paper sticking out of the journal, like they were glued in. 'It looks like a bloody art project', he thought.
"Its charmed to not be opened by anyone but me. So that it doesn't fall into the… wrong hands". Her fiery eyes bore into his icy ones.
"Granger the war is over. There are no sides anymore so you can quit with your plotting, or whatever conspiracy theories you've come up with" Draco stared at her intently, thinking back to what he overheard the Gryffindor boys say yesterday.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Say, Granger, does this book have anything to do with the Weasel?
It was Hermione's turn to look at Draco in utter shock. "Wh-what?"
Draco walked towards her, book in hand. "So its true then? What the others are saying? You still think he's alive?"
Hermione snatched the book from his hands "Its none of your bloody business Malfoy. But yes, I know he's out there somewhere and I can prove it"
Draco smirked at her "And how might that be?"
"First of all, for someone to be declared officially dead there has to be a death certificate. Ronald didn't have one, to start"
"There were thousands that died in the war, you think they have everyone on record?!" Draco raised an eyebrow at her incredulously.
Hermione ignored him and continued, "Secondly, the restoration troops at the Ministry have been able to locate nearly 95% of the missing bodies since the war. Not one of them has been identified as Ron."
"That is complete and utter –"
"And finally" Hermione interrupted, "A wizard who was capable of defeating the Dark Lord, as well as save the lives of both Harry and myself on numerous occasions, is more than capable of surviving this."
Draco flinched. How very Gryffindor of her. She was blinded by her own innocence and naivety that she failed to accept the realities of that war. Though the light side ultimately won, they had all witnessed so many deaths in the past year that nothing felt like a happy ending. Draco knew that Hermione would do anything for her best friends, but he didn't know how much she idolized them. It frustrated him to such a point that he wanted to physically shake some sense into her.
He let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Right, okay. So the 'mighty, brave, valiant' weasel is roaming around in the woods somewhere, and you're telling me that he couldn't find his way back? He couldn't let you know? Couldn't even send a fucking owl?"
"Well I just haven't solved that piece of the puzzle yet, but I'm positive that-"
"Granger I'm going to do you a favor and tell you something for your own good, something no one else will" Draco said sternly. "He's most likely dead, rotting in the dirt somewhere, and if he isn't, then he wants it to appear as if he is. Either way, he doesn't give a merlin's arse about you, so move on."
Hermione felt like she had been flung off the Astronomy tower. Tears slowly welled in her eyes as she attempted to maintain her composure. Never had words stung her so vividly. The imagery of Ron lying in a ditch somewhere, helpless and torn frightened her. But what she feared worried her more was the alternative. Her relationship with Ron only grew during the war, when they got closer to each other while searching for Harry along with the Order. It was a convenient arrangement and being together eased their pain, especially given all the torture they were surrounded by. She wouldn't blame him if the entire experience would make him want to leave the Wizarding world entirely, especially after Ginny's death.
And so she stood there in front of Draco, clutching her green book tightly, holding back her tears. Draco noticed her expression change and suddenly felt a sharp pang emerge within him. Was this guilt?
"It must bother you to see what caring about a person feels like doesn't it Malfoy. Maybe because you have never loved, or been loved", Hermione replied coldly, as she turned around to enter her room.
Within a flinch of a second, Draco's hand grabbed her arm tightly and stopped her. He wasn't about to let her have the last word again.
"What do you even know about love? That isn't love, Hermione, that's delusion" He replied and let go before she could protest.
Hermione shut the door and crouched behind it in shock. He touched her arm. He just touched a mudblood's arm?
Draco paced over to his room in a frustrated huff until he stopped and realized what he had just done. He had called her Hermione.
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A/N: So I am a huge fan of slow burn Dramoines because they just feel more real. Apologies for all you one-shot lovers, but please do stick around I'll make it worth your while!
now Review Away!