Disclaimer: All characters (save a few of my own) belong to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter Two
"Hey, Harry," Hermione greeted him with a smile as she shrugged off her book bag and took her place next to him at the table. They were soon joined by Neville and Luna, who were now happily dating, and lunch was served. The Great Hall soon began to buzz with its normal level of chatter amongst the students as they hungrily dove in to the bountiful plates of food that lined each table. Hermione fixed herself a plate and pulled out her essay for Charms and began to scribble away on her parchment, all while taking small bites of her food and sips of her pumpkin juice.
"Really, Hermione, you would think that maybe after the war your study habits would have changed, but it appears you're still as studious as ever!" Harry chuckled amusedly as he continued to eat his lunch.
Hermione couldn't help but smirk in return at him. No way she would let her work ethic slide just because it was her last year at Hogwarts. She still aimed to keep her title as the Brightest Witch of Her Age and worked diligently to please her professors and receive excellent marks. Harry seemed to care less about his school work with his nonchalant attitude.
As she wrote, she continued to listen to her friends' conversation as Luna began to ramble about her future endeavors of roaming the South American mountains with her father in search of Andean fairies with Neville supporting her wholeheartedly, of course. She allowed herself a small smile as she basked in the comfortable familiarity of her times at Hogwarts before the war had taken over everyone's lives. She had to sigh a little bit as well, for she couldn't help but miss Ron, the other third of their trio. It wasn't that she was interested in him romantically, but he was such a lovable companion that had been a main part of her life for so long that it somehow felt wrong to be here without him. She knew Harry missed him as well.
Hermione soon found herself having to pack her things as the other students began to leave for their next class. Harry waited for her to finish patiently as they both were heading to Charms together.
"No letters from Ron today," he sighed as they began to exit the Great Hall.
Hermione said nothing in return as they silently made their way down the hall towards the Charms classroom.
Charms seemed to go by unusually slower than Hermione anticipated.
She saw that Professor Flitwick was as enthusiastic about his lessons as he'd always been, but she could also discern that he seemed almost strained. Like he had aged from the horrors of the war. She could see it in his face, McGonagall's face, Harry's face... Hell, they had all aged from the war. A state of normalcy had descended upon Hogwarts once more, but for some normalcy was something far fetched; for some people there was no normal anymore.
Hermione shook these thoughts out of her head and glanced over at Harry who gave her a small smile whilst he tapped his quill against his parchment in boredom.
Time seemed to tick by as slow as humanly possible. It seemed an eternity had passed before Professor Flitwick ended his lecture and allowed the class free time to complete their essays. Hermione took this opportunity to excuse herself to the bathroom, which her professor naturally obliged.
The overwhelmingly large corridor was completely empty as Hermione made her way to the bathroom.
As she finished washing her hands, Hermione couldn't help but to look at her reflection in the mirror and frown a little bit. Her looks had obviously changed over the years, but to her it seemed as if she was cursed with being just average. Her riotous mane of frizzy hair had been tamed considerably; her chestnut colored hair now fell past her shoulders in smooth, soft waves and ringlets. Her porcelain skin was virtually without blemish, and her chocolate brown doe-like eyes were only accentuated by a bit of mascara, the only makeup she every truly wore, and her lips were full and shell pink. Yet, despite her maturing appearance, something was missing. Something had to be missing. She was always noticed for her know-it-all attitude and her brains but never her looks. No boys had ever tried to come her way, except for Ron, who was better off as strictly a friend. In a way it just made Hermione feel a bit lonely. All girls would like to be told they're pretty once in a while, right?
But it would never happen to her...
Hermione tore her gaze from her reflection and headed out the bathroom door and into the hallway once more.
And just as soon as she started, she stopped. At Hermione's feet lay a lone piece of parchment.
I don't remember this being here before...
No one was around, it seemed. She picked it up.
At first sight, Hermione was astounded at how elegant and perfect the penmanship was. The script was not too small, but written in such a seemingly precise manner that was so remarkably, well, perfect. Even better than hers. As she scanned the parchment, she realized it was written for the same prompt as her Transfiguration essay.
Who could it be?
Definitely not Harry, she deduced, as his handwriting was nearly not as neat. Nor Dean nor Seamus. Not even Neville. The handwriting did not have a feminine style to it, and if it did, she was fooled. Who then? Who else?
Hermione turned the parchment over and found the name at the top of the page.
An uncomfortable lump formed in her throat as she read the elegant script. She was caught up in her astonishment that she didn't even register the sound of approaching footsteps behind her. Her heart thundered in her chest as she began to feel a presence behind her, a sign that she was no longer alone in the corridor. She held in her breath as she heard them clear their throat.
"I believe that is mine."
His voice, so melodious yet so phlegmatic, made her stand on edge. She was at a loss at what to do for the first time in her life. She gripped the parchment in a ironlike vice and would not turn around immediately.
He took a step forward.
"Granger?"
His voice practically compelled her to turn around and finally face him.
What made him so charismatic all of a sudden?
There he was, looking at her with a questioning expression, most likely wondering why it was she of all people to find his paper. Those same molten grey eyes she gazed into earlier were looking at her again. The sight of it nearly made her heart clench.
"Malfoy." She forced out, her voice slightly cracking as she tried to hide her surprise.
He raised his eyebrow briefly at her. Did he notice her slip up? Oh god. She couldn't show him how he was affecting her.
What are you doing, Hermione? This is Malfoy for goodness sakes!
Her hand automatically reached out to him with his parchment. He paused momentarily before he reached out to take it.
His fingertips grazed the back of her hand as he took the parchment and just as they did Hermione recoiled as if she'd been hurt.
He raised his eyebrow in question again. Surely he must notice her odd behavior...
"Scared of me, Granger?" He smirked at her as he slipped the parchment inside his robes.
It took Hermione a second before she form a coherent reply.
"No, of course not!"
Was that really her voice? How could she sound so scared? Oh god, he probably really noticed her feelings now...
Sensing her discomfort, Draco took another step forward towards her. Hermione stood perfectly still. He flashed a charming grin at her that made the lump in her throat considerably bigger.
"Don't worry, I won't bite." His voice sounded lower, huskier even. Silky and sweet. Hermione looked up at him and he threw her a small, crooked smile, his grey eyes flashing in amusement, as if he were enjoying her being this uncomfortable around him.
She didn't know what to say in return.
Everything seemed to snap back into place when he finally stepped beside her and began to walk down the hallway.
"Thanks, Granger."
His musky, masculine aroma lingered at where he had just stood as Hermione refused to move. She waited until his footsteps had completely disappeared before she pulled herself together and scampered back to her Charms classroom.