Good evening everyone! I've had a request for more Ginny, and I'll try to add her in as much as possible. And I absolutely adore writing Zac, he is seriously the most fun character I've ever written. He also gives me this Ed Sheeran feel. Lupin said last chapter that Malfoy was their last hope. Remember, this entire time, the Order is trying to turn Draco to their side, using Hermione, because he is an invaluable asset. These people are our "good guys", yet it goes to show that even the "good guys" have their own agendas. This is strictly non-canon until they leave Hogwarts, so if you have any suggestions on scenes, let me know. I would love direction. As always, REVIEW!
Chapter Nine: Hot Chocolate
Neville quickly cast a shield charm to block Ginny's jinx, making the purple burst of light retract and blast forcefully into the floor. Hermione noticed that he was becoming rather skilled at Shielding Charms, and took a moment to congratulate him before moving on to watch some of the younger members of the D.A. Before she knew it, Hermione was lost in her own thoughts, carefully sitting on the edge of the desk. She kept replaying Zac's advances in her head, thinking how foolish she was to agree to leave the castle tomorrow with him. Nothing good would come out of it except possibly leading him on… Her mind turned to Draco, and she wondered how he would take the news of her being out of the castle for the day. Draco…
Something had changed between them, and it was unavoidable. The way he had looked when she found him, almost dead yet still breathing, with an eternal look of peace on his face, was eerily beautiful. How she had cared so much about his well-being. And that he knew a lot more about Voldemort than what he made her believe.
"Hermione, you okay?" Ginny asked. Hermione didn't even see the redhead come up beside her. "You look like you're far away from here."
Hermione stiffened a small sigh. "I'd like to be."
"Right now, I think we all would. What's on your mind?"
Hermione turned to look at Ginny, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously. She never really realized how beautiful Ginny was: with her creamy skin and fiery hair. She was girly, sensitive, and cared very much about her appearance and what she wore. Even now, she was in tight jeans, with her dark grey Gryffindor sweater on. Her hair was in a long braid down her right side, and there was a tint of extenuating makeup on her eyelids. She was everything that Hermione wasn't, aside from being a very talented and intelligent witch.
"How do I become… beautiful?" Hermione asked softly.
Ginny's lips turned upwards. "Hermione, you are one of the most beautiful women I know."
"No, what do you do to make yourself look, well, pretty?" Hermione never felt more self-conscious in her life.
"Oh, well, I put on a little makeup and kind of just pick out what I want to wear. Why?" Ginny inquired.
"I'm going to Hogsmead tomorrow, and I just want to look… normal," Hermione sighed. Truthfully, that wasn't the reason. A part of her wanted to see how Draco would react if she looked like every other girl who walked the halls of Hogwarts instead of being plain, ordinary.
"Well, if you want, you can come back up to my dorm after practice. It could be fun, giving you a little makeover," Ginny chuckled, and her eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Sure," Hermione returned her smile with enthusiasm.
"Hermione! Duck!" Dean called, and without hesitation, Hermione's head dropped just in time to miss a jinx from Zac. When Hermione turned to look at him, his baby blues were wide with shock and worry and he raced up to her, although Hermione deemed it unnecessary.
"I am so sorry, I wasn't paying attention –"
Hermione saw Seamus eyeing them and titling his head slightly over Zac's shoulder. With a sigh, Hermione slid off the desk and shook her head.
"It's okay, Zac, just watch where you're aiming your jinxes," she said absently. Her eyes wandered to Corner, who shot a jinx at Luna. Luna carefully reflected it and smiled softly at her antics.
"Yeah," Zac smiled. Hermione looked at up him, seeing his lips curve. She found that she liked it when she smiled, and realized with a feeling of uncertainty that maybe Zac was growing on her. "Do you want to give it a go?"
"I don't know, Zac…" Hermione murmured, not wanting to embarrass him in front of the D.A. members for the second time.
"Don't be a prude, Hermione," Ginny nudged her in the rubs. "Go on."
Hermione shot a glance at Ginny of her insistence, but followed Zac out onto the floor none-the-less. She realized that everyone around her had a motto somewhere along the lines of: "Live a little", "Enjoy life!", or "Live life to the fullest!" So, why couldn't she? The spells stopped flying as Zac led the way to the center, the group expanding onto two sides.
"Couldn't wait to get your ass kicked again, Smith?" Seamus called.
"Shut up, Seamus," Smith replied. Hermione took her place in front of Zac on the opposite end of the room. "Are you ready, Hermione?"
Seamus looked to Corner and held up a Knut with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Nope, I'm done betting," Corner replied hastily.
"Whatever you say, Corner," Seamus shrugged and slipped the Knut back into his pocket.
"Ugh, fine. Two on Smith," Corner mumbled. Seamus smiled to himself: what a git.
Hermione steadied her wand, and watched as Zac went to make his move. The moment his arm twitched, she sent a body-binding curse to him. He deflected it half way to him, sending it into the left wall, scorching a little bit off. He locked her eyes, trying to read her next move. Hermione swore Zac moved first, or maybe it was her, but spells jumped from their wands in midair to collide halfway between them. It wasn't like Hermione had ever dueled before, but this was different. There was a bit of a struggle to keep her spell from fluctuating. Gritting her teeth, she put more force into it, only to have it reciprocated by Zac. He wasn't letting down. She could feel the heat from the spells beginning to crawl up her wrist until the trance broke.
Gasping for breath, Hermione steadied herself with her hands on her knees. She was still clutching her wand tightly at her side. With a half glance up, she noticed that Zac too was breathless and trying to regain composure. She took this opportunity and flicked her wand, sending a hex towards him that caught him in the stomach and he fell over backwards. The room once again erupted into cheers as Hermione steadied herself. Corner shamefully put two Knuts into Seamus' outstretched hand and crossed his arms in disappointment.
"You're really got to stop betting, mate," Seamus told him. Corner just scowled.
Zac got to his feet and pulled his sweater down, but the look on his face said he had enjoyed their duel. In a way, Hermione did too. After a few more duels between the students, Hermione dismissed them and began to make her way to the Gryffindor dorms with Ginny. Second thoughts about this makeover where already racing through her head, but she allowed herself to continue on with it.
Once they were in Ginny's dorm, Hermione found herself facing a mirror. She looked at herself in the mirror: messy hair, big hazel eyes, creamy skin with a hint of freckles, and just overall… plain. Ginny began to run Hermione's hair through a brush, and then applying a gel to it.
"Zac fancies you, you know," Ginny said absently as she applied more gel to Hermione's hair.
"I know," Hermione sighed.
"He's handsome," Ginny offered, scrunching Hermione's hair into loose curls. "Very handsome."
"He is," came her meek reply. "He's got charm too."
"Oh, yes," Ginny giggled. "He reminds me of Cormack, but not so arrogant."
Hermione couldn't help but smile. "Zac is anything but."
Ginny spun her around to begin putting some light makeup on her face. "Are you going on a date with him?"
Hermione's eyes snapped open, but Ginny quickly put the makeup brush over her eyelids again. "We're going to Hogsmead, I told you that."
"You didn't say you were going with him."
"It's not a date," Hermione said firmly. "We're just going as Heads."
"Then why did you want to get all dolled up? I know it's not just because you want to look normal, Hermione," Ginny said, now rooting through her closet for something for Hermione to wear.
"I just… want to look like a girl for once," Hermione admitted. Ginny smirked to herself and threw a pair of jeans, a white shirt, and a grey Gryffindor cardigan over to her. Hermione caught them in her lap, and proceeded to change. "I'm always in my school outfit, and I just never really take the time to look halfway decent anymore."
"Oh, Hermione," cooed Ginny as Hermione turned around.
Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she walked down the hallway, she would actually blend in with the girls. The dark jeans were tight and form fitting, hugging her hips tightly. The white shirt showed just enough cleavage to make the mind wonder, and she could see the outline of her light pink bra straps underneath. The cardigan made the outfit: draping around her back and to her hips like a warm blanket. Her hair was in loose curls, down to above her bust. Her hazel eyes were accented by a soft green and brown, making them pop.
"Wow, Ginny," Hermione said softly. "I never knew I could look so… astounding."
"Keep the clothes," Ginny shrugged and collapsed on her bed. "Also, you might want to go find Zac. I would love to know what his reaction is."
But, Hermione didn't go to find Zac. She went straight back to her dorm.
Draco heard her come in as usual, but she was early. It was only a quarter to eleven, so even by her standards, she arrived earlier than usual. He had been reading about Horcruxes and how you have to rip your soul in order to make one. The thought alone had been excruciating, and Hermione had said that there was more than one Horcrux out there… It answered a lot of questions as to why Voldemort was the way he was in Draco's mind. Before Draco looked up, he caught sense of a nervous aura, and when he did look up, his mouth went slightly slack.
Never before had he seen Hermione so feminine. She looked different, but in a good way. Her curls were tamed (thank Merlin), her jeans were a nice fit, showing off her round assets, and her eyes were defined more than normal. Draco quietly closed his book and rose to his feet as he stared at the witch. Hermione didn't say a word, just let him approach her quietly. Even though she wasn't dressed proactively, something about her ensemble made Draco's breath catch. It was so incredibly not her.
"You're back early."
"Yes, I wanted to ask you some questions."
Draco raised an eyebrow. The nerve to rile her up was strong now; something about her coming into their sanctuary had provoked him. "Questions? And give me one good reasons why I should answer any of your bloody questions."
"Stop being so childish," she brushed past him and sank down on her chair, pulling her legs into her body and staring at him. "Tomorrow, I'm going to Hogsmead –"
"You're leaving?" Draco asked, now slightly infuriated. "Why are you leaving?"
Hermione took a breath to steady herself. She was aiming to keep this conversation as calm as possible, but she had a feeling he would react this way. "I need to get some things for the school, and for you, if you wanted anything."
"I don't need anything from you, Granger," he huffed, ignoring her blissful tone.
"Draco, you live here too, and if there's anything I can get to make you more comfortable –"
"Since when have you bloody cared about if I'm comfortable or not?" Draco retorted, his lips now inched into a thin line. He liked it better when she wasn't talking.
For a long time now… Hermione wondered how his pride hadn't taken such a beating yet. She forced herself not to care about that Slytherin and Malfoy pride, and continued to stare at him until he looked away under the pressure of her gaze.
"Is there anything you want?" she asked sternly.
"Why are you doing this?" he replied, his eyes burning holes into the floor. Was it because she felt sorry for him now? Or because she had saved his life? Or maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to have a soft spot for him like he was beginning to have for her.
"Because maybe if you have some things that make you feel comfortable, you'd be a little less… arrogant," Hermione grinned. Draco scowled at that grin.
"Granger, nothing will make me comfortable here," he grumbled.
"Malfoy –" Her tone was curt and warning.
"Fucking fine," Draco dropped himself onto the couch and looked around the dorm. "I am getting rather sick of that tea you have in the cabinet. Get something different. Also, some chocolate from HoneyDukes. And maybe some shower gel that smells like something other than fucking flowers."
Hermione couldn't help but chuckle. Draco saw this, and almost felt the upside of his lips turn, but quickly, he stopped the action and clasped his fingers together.
"I like flowers," Hermione murmured thoughtfully. "What scents do you like?"
"What the hell kind of question is that?" Draco asked with his eyebrows lowered in confusion.
"Just a question, Draco," she answered, now looking straight into his eyes. Merlin's Beard… it was like an entirely new Hermione Granger was staring at him. He felt a twinge in his chest, a twinge that almost made him sick because he knew after countless rendezvous with women what it meant.
"A bloody stupid one. Pick me up something new to read too. Your books are starting to get repetitive," he muttered with distaste.
"What would you like to read?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "None of your Muggle shit, Granger. I want to actually keep my brain cells, not loose them."
"Alright, challenging books it is," she said, and her tone was lighter. Draco wondered vaguely how he could've overlooked such a wonderful tone…
"That's all," Draco leaned back against the couch. "Nothing else you could get me would make this place ease loosing my sanity."
"It could be worse," Hermione shrugged and buried the side of her face into the chair. She peeked out at her Slytherin companion who had rolled his grey eyes the other direction of her. He knew that she was referring to the events of earlier in the week when she had saved his life. Merlin's Beard… Would she ever let him live that down?
"Don't get your hopes up, Granger," he muttered and stood up. Hermione watched as his lean body made its way over to the kitchen, where he opened the cupboards and rooted around in them. He easily reached where Hermione could not and she made a mental note of that as he pulled down a blue container filled with hot chocolate.
Draco knew how to make hot chocolate. Perhaps it was the only thing he knew how to make without magic. His mother insisted on boiling water and adding the chocolate and marshmallows because it "tasted better that way." He found that he missed her more than usual as he placed a green mug filled with water on the oven, allowing it to come to a boil. Lost in thought, he remembered when he was a boy and how Narcissa would make the drink every time he was scared. It could've been for the stupidest reasons: from when he was about to take a big exam, or thunder struck in the sky. Most recently, it had been the night before he was set to kill Albus Dumbledore.
"You don't have to kill him, Draco."
"He'll kill you and me if I don't, Mum."
Draco didn't realize that the cup had been to a full boil for well over a minute before he removed it from the stove, feeling a rush of comforting warmth through his palms. He added the chocolate and stirred it around, finding he had made more than enough for two people. Not really considering what he was doing, he brought down a red mug and poured excess hot chocolate into it. Still lost in thoughts of his mother, Draco walked to Hermione, set the mug on the table beside her, and sat down on the couch.
"I thought you said you couldn't cook without magic," Hermione whispered, taking the cup in her hands, surprised at Draco's gesture.
"I can't," he replied simply and took a sip of the drink. A splash of hot comfort ran through his insides, warming them, and creating a simple barrier, shielding anything from the outside from coming inside.
"Then how did you know how to make this?"
"My mum," replied Draco softly. Hermione shifted so she could see his face, and his grey eyes seemed to wander to places farther than this dorm, even farther than Hogwarts.
"Your mother never striked me as the type to make things the Muggle-way," Hermione knew she was treading on thin water with how protective Draco was over comments about his father, but when he didn't react with anger, she knew it hadn't upset him.
"This was the only thing she ever made like Muggles do," Draco said and took another sip.
Hermione found her curiosity peaking once more. "What is your mother like?"
Draco's eyes narrowed. "Why the hell do you want to know? I'm sure you've already made your assumptions about her."
Hermione drew back, the mug clasped in her hands. She knew that she had hit his sensitive spot where his parents were concerned, and he wasn't completely wrong about his statement. Hermione had made her assumptions about her, thinking she was just like his father: evil. But, the more that Draco defended his parents, the more Hermione realized that she could've just as well been wrong.
"I was just wondering, Draco."
"Yeah, well, you just wonder a lot," he grumbled, clutching his mug so hard he was afraid the glass may have shattered. But, when he thought of Narcissa, his insides became warm again and he felt the world slowly go away. "She's… gentle."
"Gentle?" Hermione asked, surprised he was relieving any information about his mother to her.
"Yes, are you fucking deaf, Granger?" he spat, looking up at her with his stormy grey eyes. "My mother is the gentlest person I know."
"How so?"
Draco found himself lost in memories of her that made his lips threaten to smile. "There was a time where I had failed a test in Herbology, and my father had thrown a fit because of it. He wanted me to excel in every subject."
"If I remember right, you were second to me in academics," Hermione supplied.
"I was supposed to be first," Draco said sharply, as if it was her fault that he had failed to achieve the top markings for their six years together in school. "Anyway, he threw his fit and Mum comes up to me and tells me that I did the best I could and she'd never been more proud."
Hermione smiled into her arm as she watched Draco recount his memories.
"There was another time where I came home late, and she was waiting up for me in the drawing room. She probably didn't want me to know, but I found her there, passed out in a chair with our cat next to her… I covered her up with a blanket, and went to bed," he told her. Hermione could tell his tone was softening, almost even into a tone of normal conversation, without his normal sharpness or arrogance.
"She sounds like a wonderful mother," Hermione said softly.
"She is," Draco said, looking into his hot chocolate.
"You miss her," Hermione whispered.
"Her more than my father," Draco replied hesitantly. Hermione knew the consequences of bringing up his father, so she strayed around the subject of Lucius.
"I hope you get to see your mother again," Hermione told him and took a sip of her hot chocolate. "She taught you how to make very good hot chocolate."
"Yeah," Draco murmured, still running his fingers over the mug.
He didn't know why he had just told her his feelings about missing his mother or how easily it came for him to tell her stories of his past. For those few minutes, Draco felt light, airy, and maybe even, happy. He hadn't meant for it to happen, but certainly wasn't opposed to it. He still felt that odd sensation for the rest of the night when he looked at Hermione, almost as though he wanted too – needed too – pursue her. But, with pursuit came hurt. And as always, after so long he was reminded that he shouldn't have been attracted to her anyways. After all… she was a Mudblood.
Draco didn't even notice that he fallen asleep on the couch, or that Hermione had fallen asleep on her chair. It wasn't until he arose the next morning with a nasty cramp in his neck that he realized he hadn't slept in his bed. Groaning, he rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to awaken, finding himself wanting to go back to sleep when he heard her little sleep-ridden sighs.
Last night was confusing his emotions. It had come so naturally to him to speak of his mother to her, and to express his longing to see her again. He knew that little things Hermione did reminded him of her: the way she sang, the way she moved around the dorm, her intelligence, yet genuine concern for everyone but herself. In a different life, Naricssa Malfoy and Hermione Granger could've gotten along very well. But, since they were on opposite sides of the war, Draco knew that wasn't ever possible, yet he caught himself wishing that Hermione was a pure-blood. If she was, he wouldn't have felt resentment towards her, wouldn't have wished all the horrible things that he had wished upon her, and would've courted her in a heartbeat. If only she was a pure-blood…
He turned his head to look at her sleeping form then, sighing in content. Her hair was falling over her left eye, shielding it from the rays of white light coming into the Common Room. She was snuggled with her legs pulled close to her chest, and her arms supporting her head on the armrest of the chair. In that moment, she looked so incredibly peaceful, like there wasn't a war threatening to begin outside and she didn't have a care in the world.
Draco stood up, deciding it beneficial to go to his bed to avoid awkward early morning encounters. In front of her, he hesitated, taking her in, all of her. Her form, her smudged makeup below her eyelids, and the way her hair flowed to the left side so perfectly. Draco grabbed a blanket off of the side of the couch and draped it over Hermione's shoulders, sighing to himself as he did so. He pushed the curls out of her eyes, earning himself a soft moan from her pink lips. For the first time in his life, Draco had to pull himself away from her. He scolded himself over and over and even began to damn everything around him before he got to his bed and tumbled into the sheets. His heart was beating faster, worried she would wake up, so he stayed awake for a little while longer to make sure she didn't.
When he was certain that Hermione wasn't going to wake up for awhile longer, Draco yanked the covers up to his chest and let his mind clear itself. Even then, at that moment before he fell back into a beautiful bliss of sleep, he found himself thinking of Hermione's soft features, pink tinted lips, and how last night, she had come into the dorm looking like an entirely new woman, making Draco realize that Hermione was indeed a woman, and he was attracted to her. He couldn't decide what he hated more: the fact that she was absolutely stunning or that he longed for her now… and it was a fire that couldn't be extinguished.