A/N: So, here is the new chapter. Thanks for the reviews. More would be very welcome. Please! Anyway, I hope you enjoy the latest addition.
I Have Seen Your Wide Eyes Tonight
Had Christmas really come so soon? Hermione reveled in the spirit of the season as she walked back across the snowy lawn from Hagrid's hut. Two more weeks had passed since she had become friends with Malfoy. The thought alone still never ceased to shock her. It was taken in the same respect by every other being at Hogwarts. She could even now recall the startled looks of her fellow Gryffindors when she sat by him in every class. It was still all so mind-rattling. However, she couldn't bring herself to think it was wrong. Part of her was ashamed at the fact that she wasn't disgusted by Malfoy, by the fact that she wasn't ashamed at all. And the other part, the overwhelming part, felt that their friendship was just so right. She felt as if they had always been friends, like all the years of torment had never happened.
"Hermione!"
She looked up and saw the slim redhead rushing to her.
"Hey, Ginny," she mumbled, shivering from the cold.
"Hey. Been out to visit Hagrid, I see?" Hermione nodded her response. "How is he?"
"He's well. He's going to see Madame Maxime over the holidays, so he's overly excited of course," Hermione told her friend. She was glad to see Hagrid so happy, but it only served to remind her that she was alone. It seemed everyone had someone for the holidays. Ginny had Harry, Hagrid had the Headmistress of Beauxbaton, Ron had Lavender… but she had no one.
"Oh, how wonderful! They are so adorable. Speaking of visiting on the holidays, we're leaving for the Burrow tomorrow. Have you packed yet? Oh, who am I kidding, of course you have. I haven't. I suppose I should do-"
"I'm not going." The words were out of Hermione's mouth before she knew she was thinking them. In fact, she had been planning on accompanying Ginny to the Burrow, and indeed her things were packed. However, she suddenly realized it was the last place she wanted to be this Christmas.
"What? Why? Oh Hermione, come on. Don't let Ronald get to you. Look, if Lavender even breathes a word to you, I'll hex her, okay?"
"No, it's alright," Hermione laughed lightly. "I want to stay here. It's not Ron, I swear." Ginny gave her a hard glare. "Okay, it's not only Ron. I really want to do this. Okay?"
Ginny looked at her uncertainly, but then nodded. "If that's really what you want, then I won't stop you. I will miss you, though. Christmas won't be the same."
Hermione just smiled sadly in response as they continued their way to the castle doors in silence.
Hermione entered the Common Room feeling as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She hadn't realized how much she had been dreading the holidays. She felt bad that she wouldn't get to see Harry, whom she missed terribly, but she thought it was about time she did something for herself. She would see him soon enough, after all. And she had been truthful when she told Ginny Ron wasn't the real reason. In fact, over the weeks she found herself thinking less and less of the slimy git.
"Any particular reason you look so happy there, Granger?"
She whirled around to see Malfoy sitting on the sofa in front of the fire. His feet were up on the table as he lounged, his tie was loose around his neck, and his hair was tousled deliciously. He was the embodiment of tranquility. She shook her head slightly as her eyes started to rake over his body, walking over and plopping down beside him.
"I'm not going to the Burrow," she said, smiling brightly. His brow furrowed and he gave her a disapproving look.
"You can't just avoid him," he countered. She stiffened. They had been getting on quite well, of course, but they had yet to talk about something so personal. He noticed her tense form and immediately was regretful.
"I'm sorry, that's not my place to say. I've over-stepped my boundaries," he hastily apologized.
"No," she quickly stopped his rambling. He glanced at her, disbelieving. "It's okay. I…I think I'd like to talk about it, of that's okay with you, of course."
She gave him a pleading look, and was thoroughly surprised by his reaction. He gazed into her eyes, his expression so very serious. "You can tell me anything. I won't judge you. And if you want to stop talking about it, we'll stop. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, but you always can."
It took her a moment to reply. Who would have ever thought that Draco Malfoy, her long time enemy and tormenter, could be more supportive and understanding than either of her best friends?
"Thank you," she said sincerely. They shared a glance. It was so much like that one in Transfiguration, the day she first sat by him. She could see everything in those normally guarded eyes. She could see comfort, compassion, and most of all, longing. But for what, she didn't know. She looked away, scared of the feelings his expressive eyes evoked in her.
"I know you probably won't believe me," she began, in an attempt to clear her suddenly fuzzy brain. "But I'm not staying here to get away from him. I…I wouldn't necessarily say I'm over what happened, but I've come to terms with it."
"Are you sure? I know you cared deeply for him." If she wasn't mistaken, his tone held a small bit of bitterness.
"See, that's the thing. I cared for him as a friend, and I think I was in love with the idea of what we could be. But, in reality, I don't think I ever truly loved him. I just always felt like I was supposed to, and so I fell into it. I went along with what everyone else expected and didn't think a thing of it. But now, I see how stupid I was. It was never right with him, there was always something…off."
He didn't believe a word she said. She knew he wouldn't, and she could see it in his eyes. "Hermione, when I found you that night…well, it was awful," he said, pained. "You were a wreck. You can't tell me that you're just okay with it now."
"Honestly, I am. Wait, let me finish," she added, seeing he was about to speak. He closed his mouth and nodded, his eyes hard. "That night, it was like everything I had been feeling for the past year erupted. Ron was just the final straw. I was hurt, but not because I loved him. It was because I was betrayed by someone who I trusted, someone who was supposed to be my friend above all else. It was the last piece of the puzzle taken away. And all of a sudden, everything was rushing to me. The war, death, pain, losing Ron, losing Harry, being alone…everything was changing and I couldn't stop it. All I-I thought I knew was a lie suddenly. In fact, t-that was why I was so reluctant to your friendship in the b-beginning. You were just one more thing I thought was a c-constant in my w-world that had changed."
She noticed, as she stopped rambling, that she had begun to cry, and that at some point, Malfoy had pulled her into a gentle hug.
"Shh. It's okay. Change isn't an easy thing to go through. Believe me, I know," he chuckled lightly. She pulled back a little and looked up into his eyes.
"You must think I'm such a whimp," she mumbled, but there was humor in her voice.
"Never," he muttered, with that conviction that shook her to her core. Ever so lightly, his hand lifted up to graze the side of her face. She felt a fire burn her skin wherever it made contact with his.
She looked away, embarrassed. This was not normal. This was too intimate, too real, too…wonderful. She shouldn't be having these thoughts for Malfoy of all people. Their friendship was far enough of a stretch.
"Right," she mumbled somewhat awkwardly. "Well, um…thanks, really. I needed to talk to someone, especially someone who wasn't biased."
"Anytime."
They sat in a comfortable silence until Hermione realized just how close they were. He was still holding her, and it felt all too good. His body was not supposed to form to hers so well. She jumped up quickly, startling him.
"Well, I think I'll head to bed. Um…will I see you tomorrow, or will you be leaving on the early train?" Part of her wanted him to be leaving early so she could avoid the suddenly awkward feelings she possessed. The other part of her, the part of her causing the awkwardness, was hoping he would never leave her sight.
"I'm not leaving. I'm staying here as well," he answered, confused by her sudden jumpiness, and even more so by the way her eyes widened as he said this.
"Oh, well, great," she said, trying to sound enthusiastic and forcing a smile, but he wasn't fooled.
"Granger-"
"Well, goodnight," she rushed, cutting him off before bolting up the stairs to her room. She slammed the door closed, then leaned against it, panting. What on earth was going on with her?
"And you're absolutely certain that you don't want to come along?"
Hermione just chuckled as Ginny pleaded with her for the millionth time to join her on the trip back to the Burrow.
"Yes, I'm certain." In fact, she had awoken feeling quite uncertain. She knew she didn't want to go to the Burrow. However, she had no idea how she was going to get through the next three weeks alone with Malfoy and her newfound awkwardness. Everything she had told Malfoy of her reasons for staying were still true. But she just didn't know how to handle him. Still, she was staying. She was a Gryffindor, after all, and Gryffindors didn't run away from uncomfortable situations. She had survived the war, so, she reasoned, she could survive an awkward few weeks with Malfoy.
"Well, if you're sure…" the redhead trailed off as the train whistled loudly.
"I am! Now hurry up before you miss the train. Give Harry and Molly my love," Hermione said as she physically had to push Ginny to the platform.
As Ginny waved from the window of her compartment as the train sped away, Hermione wondered if she had made the right decision. She sighed deeply and turned to head back to the castle. She caught a glimpse of silvery blonde hair. Upon further inspection, she realized Malfoy had come to see Blaise off. As if sensing her gaze, he turned to look at her. Their eyes locked, and as he gave her one of those rare, true smiles, she knew she had chosen right.
"Granger, you're going to catch your death if you don't come inside."
She rolled her eyes and continued to make her snow angel. After sitting inside for nearly four full days, Hermione decided it was time for some fresh air. Malfoy, as it turned out, was a worry-wart. Having the choice between joining her and staying in alone, he had of course chosen to accompany her. That didn't stop his complaints, though. Ever since they had arrived outside on the grounds, he had constantly fretted about her catching a cold. She thought he was being utterly ridiculous.
"Malfoy, stop acting like my mother." He gave her a shocked look before pulling a face at her. She only giggled in response.
"Seriously. You're just being plain silly. I'm fine, Malfoy. Believe it or not, I'm quite capable of spending some time outside without automatically dying from hypothermia. Loosen up, would you?"
She regretted her words when she saw a mischievous smile pass his lips. He slowly bent to gather some snow in his hand. She hopped up and started to back away as he rolled it into a snowball.
"Well, if you insist," he smirked, throwing the ball of wet snow before she could duck behind a tree. She gasped as it hit her square in the face. She wiped the offensive liquid from her face, giving him a hard glare.
"Hermione, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" He continued to ramble an apology, not noticing as she bent down to gather some more snow.
"Oh, you're dead Malfoy," she said, with obvious mirth in her voice. His eyes went wide and she threw the snowball straight at his face. He, however, was quicker and ducked away just in time. Damn Seeker reflexes.
A full on war had started. They continued to toss snow back and forth, using trees and shrubs as shields as they moved across the lawn. Not too much later, Hermione found herself trapped between two large trees and a stone wall.
"Ready to surrender, Granger?" he laughed. She briefly recognized the beautiful quality of his voice before indignation rose within her.
"Never," she hissed. He only laughed again as he drew closer to her. She glanced about her again, looking for any way out. There was only one option. In a move that surprised both her and Malfoy, she rushed forward and slammed against him with as much force as she could muster, affectively tackling him to the ground.
She smirked down at his speechless form. She did her best to ignore how she every crevice of her body was pressed against his. "I never give up," she whispered playfully. He stared at her with an unfathomable expression before giving her his own smirk. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation. Suddenly, he flipped them over so he was straddling her in the snow.
"Neither do I. You know, that was a pretty Slytherin move of you. Who knew you were so sneaky?" he murmured, his breath coming out as a white puff in the wintry air. She didn't know whether her sudden goosebumps were a result of the snow now pressed against her back or the way his eyes were growing darker and darker as he looked down on her. Slowly, his hand came up to ghost across her face and she shivered. He started to lean forward, his face getting closer and closer to her own. No! She wasn't ready for this. But she wanted it so badly, and his lips looked so soft. Without thinking, she grabbed a fistful of snow and shoved it in his face. He froze in shock, long enough for her to escape from under him, but not before she bent to whisper in his ear, "I win."
She ran off, giggling. On the inside, her mind was reeling. She had almost kissed Malfoy! Correction, he had almost kissed her. What was he thinking!
Christmas Eve found them sprawled across the couch in the common room after one too many cups off eggnog.
"I can't believe Blaise said that!" Hermione squealed.
"Oh believe it. He is first and foremost a male," Malfoy laughed at his best friends antics.
"He's nearly as awful as Ginny," Hermione said, then blushed.
"What? The Weaslette-"
"She has a name, Malfoy," Hermione muttered, far too tipsy to be angry.
"Right, sorry. But are you saying that Ginny has a foul mouth?"
"Oh Heavens yes. You don't even want to know the stories she's told me about her and Harry," Hermione groaned. She hated even thinking about them. There were certain things she didn't want to know about either of her best friends.
"You're very right there. I have no desire to know what Potter-er Harry does in his free time with his girlfriend," he corrected, seeing her half-hearted glare.
"I agree. Unfortunately that doesn't stop her from telling me every gruesome detail."
They laughed together. After a moment, she thought she saw anger pass his features, but it was gone in a flash and replaced with what seemed like curiosity.
"So, Granger. What about you?"
She looked at him in confusion. "What about me?"
"Did you and Weasley ever…" he trailed off as she smacked in the face with a couch cushion.
"That's none of your business," she growled, her entire body red from head to toe.
"He was that bad, huh?" Malfoy laughed, but there was a clear tone of jealousy in his voice that she did not recognize. She let out a frustrated cry and, if possible, became redder.
"If you must know, we never did anything of the sort. I'm not like your little harlots that you used to go around with," she shot defensively. It was his turn to look confused.
"What do you mean 'like my harlots?' What harlots?"
"Well, you know. Back before everything happened, all those girls you were with. You had quite the reputation, you know."
His eyes widened before he laughed loudly.
"What? What's so damn funny about your promiscuity?" she demanded angrily. She already felt embarrassed and it was only getting worse.
"The fact that it's non-existent. I don't know how you heard about my so called 'reputation' because I have never been promiscuous," he answered, still laughing slightly.
"But…I just thought…" she trailed off helplessly. All the rumors she heard weren't true? She nearly smacked herself right then. Of course they weren't true. They were rumors! The only reason she ever believed them was because at the time she was willing to believe anything that made Malfoy seem like such a prick.
"They're just rumors, Granger. In fact," he became nervous for a reason she didn't understand. "I've actually never even been with a girl."
"What?" She was flabbergasted. "But what about fifth and sixth year? You're supposed to be the Slytherin Sex God or some nonsense like that!"
"Ha! Oh that's rich. I swear, I think Slytherins will say just about anything to make their house look better." He chuckled softly at her shocked face and pulled her into an embrace as he laid back on the couch. "And to answer your question, well, I was a little preoccupied during fifth and sixth years to be worrying about hormones," he said, his voice serious now.
"I'm sorry, I didn't even think about that," she whispered, feeling awkward in their new position. He seemed fairly comfortable, though, so she relaxed into his arms.
"It's okay." They slipped into a comfortable silence. Just as Hermione was about to drift off, she felt a warm hand grab her chin. Her face was pushed upward so she was staring directly at Malfoy, his face mere centimeters from hers. Before she could even dwell on this fact, he suddenly closed the distance and placed his lips on hers. His lips were soft and gentle, yet warm in a way that sent a fire throughout her body. And then he pulled away. Seeing the question in her eyes, he pointed upward and said, "Mistletoe."
She looked up and saw the parasite looming straight above them. She looked back down and into his eyes. They were a molten silver, and, like on a few occasions before, she felt like she could see every emotion swimming in those eyes. "Merry Christmas, Hermione."
He released her chin as he laid back his head and closed his eyes. She rested her face against his chest and murmured a soft, "Merry Christmas," before sleep enveloped her.