AN: I hadn't meant for this story to continue after the Mistletoe kiss but then my brain came up with this, so I just had to write the rest of the year out for our couple. Enjoy!
January
"I want Madam Roseberry." The Hufflepuff crossed her arms and turned her head away from Hermione with a sneer. "I won't take any potions from you."
Hermione clenched her teeth and fought to keep the frustration from her face.
"Madam Roseberry left me in charge tonight and you have to take these potions to get the Dragon Pox under control."
"I won't take anything from a Death Eater's whore."
Hermione drew a deep breath, aware that the other Dragon Pox victims were listening intently, eager for some drama to liven up the dull days in their quarantined room. But she was a professional. She had to be. Madam Roseberry trusted her.
"Perhaps you have a fever, Miss Gorsley. It certainly sounds like you're quite delusional. I will have to seclude you from the other patients for observation, in case your symptoms worsen. We may have to send you off to St. Mungo's after all. Now take your medicine."
She held the vial of potions out to the recalcitrant child, but still she refused to take them.
"Go suck some Death Eater dick, you traitor. I'm not letting you poison me."
The words stung. They stung more than Hermione wanted to admit.
"I'm an Apprentice Healer and I have taken a Wizard's Oath to heal and relieve pain wherever I can. I'm not going to poison you, I just want you to take your potions so you can recover from the Dragon Pox and be on your merry way. Take. Your. Medicine."
"I don't believe you. You know what they say about sleeping in a snake's nest. You're just as bad as the rest of them, taking up with the enemy. I'm not taking anything you give me."
She had to remain calm and do her job, but her temper was threatening to get the better of her. She took another deep breath, pushed those emotions away, whipped out her wand and cast a Stunner at the girl, who stiffened, a look of surprise on her face. Hermione smiled kindly, though it took a lot of effort.
"I'm sorry, Miss Gorsley. I really need you to take your potion so I'm afraid I'll have to spell your mouth open and make you swallow. Don't worry, it won't hurt."
Hermione forced her mouth open with a nifty spell, tossed the contents of the vial into the girl's mouth and forced her to swallow. The girl couldn't move, but her eyes were open and she glared at her with such hatred that Hermione almost flinched away. Almost. Summoning all her Gryffindor courage, she squared her shoulders and walked towards the door of the quarantine room. Just before leaving, she turned on her heel and regarded the five students who were staring at her with varying degrees of fear and hatred.
"You seem to be forgetting who I am. I am Hermione Granger. I fought in the War that ended Voldemort's reign. I killed Death Eaters in battle. I spent that year at Harry's side. I don't care what happened to you last year. I just don't. I have my own demons to fight. But I've given up more than enough to save this thankless world, and I don't intend to give in to public pressure. The war is over. It's over and done with. So you can take your opinions about my personal life and bugger off. But if you dare imply again that I am not a trustworthy and professional Apprentice Healer, I will make you sorry you even breathe."
She closed the door with a quiet click, although she really, really wanted to slam it so hard it would break off its hinges, and cast disinfectant spells to get rid of the traces of Dragon Pox. Then she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, fighting the angry tears that were welling up.
Traitor.
When she'd kissed Draco, that blissful day in the middle of the Christmas holidays, she hadn't anticipated that the whispers and gossip would increase. It had been bad enough before Christmas, getting the cold shoulder when she sat with him to study. But the hostilities were worse, so much worse, ever since a fourth-year Ravenclaw had seen them kissing in the library. The rumour had spread like wildfire, of course, and when Ginny confronted her and she hadn't denied it, the attacks escalated.
Death Eater whore.
Mostly they were rumours, that she was under the Imperius, that she had lost her mind in the War, that he was blackmailing her, that she was an idiot for letting him use her. And like the nine-headed Hydra of Lerna, firmly cutting off one rumour sprouted two more. It was a battle she soon gave up on fighting.
Slut.
The insults were harder to deal with. They were whispered just loud enough for her to hear, but whenever she turned around to try and identify the culprit, the other students were deep in conversation with each other, and apart from a challenging smirk on all their faces, gave no indication who had uttered those hateful words. The Professors didn't hear - or pretended not to hear - and even on the few occasions she did know who had said it, she couldn't take points. She'd lost her Prefect badge, and she wasn't a full staff member either.
Disgrace.
Draco never said "I told you so," but she could see it in his eyes whenever he tried to comfort her. Not the smug look she would have expected to see some years ago, on the rare occasions that he had one over her, but a knowing, contrite frown that told her he felt responsible for all the grief she was getting.
Hypocrite.
Ginny didn't openly insult her, but she didn't defend Hermione either.
"It's your decision, Hermione, but I'm not going to stand here and support you while you throw your life away for nothing. Because mark my words, nothing will come of it," she'd said, after ranting about the Malfoys and everything Draco had and hadn't done the year before. Hermione didn't argue, she had no right to. She knew Draco had done horrible things, but she also knew he'd saved them at Malfoy Manor by not identifying them, and from their long talks she knew the war had changed him. The war had changed all the students, of course. But the wounds were still fresh, and, unlike Hermione and Draco, most of them were out for more blood. It made getting out of bed in the mornings harder. Her nights were wrought with nightmares and her days were a living hell. The only thing that kept her sane were the few hours they snuck away together, to study, to talk, to kiss and forget about what awaited them outside their room.
Mudblood.
She appreciated their stolen moments even more because the whole school was begrudging them their happiness. She still had the Marauder's Map and Harry's cloak, and used them to meet Draco whenever she could. They converted an abandoned classroom into their secret hiding place, using the strongest wards they knew to keep them safe, and lost themselves in each other's arms as often as possible, to forget about a world that loathed them both, him for the choices he made as a boy, and her for the choices she made as a woman.
Interlude: The Daily Prophet
WAR HEROINE AND DEATH EATER - UNLIKELY ROMANCE?
Remember War Heroine Hermione Granger, Order of Merlin First Class and steadfast friend of the Saviour of the Wizarding World, Harry Potter? The Golden Girl hasn't been seen in society for months, claiming the need to return to Hogwarts to finish her studies. An admirable goal, of course, but this reporter has heard that academics isn't the only reason the Gryffindor Princess returned Hogwarts.
Reliable sources have confirmed that Miss Granger is in a relationship with convicted Death Eater Draco Malfoy, who is serving his house arrest at Britain's finest educational establishment. The two lovebirds started spending a lot of time together in November and December, and have been rumoured to be in a relationship since Christmas.
Attentive readers may remember that Miss Granger was in a short-lived relationship with the brave and dashing Golden Boy Ronald Weasley, who started Auror training alongside Harry Potter after their triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Miss Granger declined any job offers, choosing instead to return to school, leaving a broken-hearted Ronald Weasley behind in London.
Recent events suggest that the Brightest Witch of the Age may have had her eye on a new target. Draco Malfoy, who was marked a servant of the Dark Lord at sixteen, was acquitted in a quick trial this summer, where both Miss Granger and Mr. Potter testified. Perhaps this was the first step in their relationship? This reporter can only speculate, of course, but it is a fact that Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley broke up soon after the Malfoy trials, and Mr. Weasley refused to testify on the Malfoys' behalf at the time.
Draco Malfoy, who was convicted for War Crimes but received an astonishingly light sentence, will be restored to the Malfoy fortune and take over as Head of one of the last Ancient and Most Noble of our Pureblood Houses at the end of his parole on his birthday. One could wonder how long the Malfoy bloodline will remain pure, now the Heir is in a relationship with the most famous Muggle-born Witch of our times.
February
"Let's go to Hogsmeade today."
Hermione trailed her fingers over his stomach, suppressing a smile as the muscles twitched with the effort not to squirm under her light caress.
"Wouldn't we be better off staying here? It's the weekend before Valentine, the place will be swamped."
Hermione smiled and stole a kiss before answering.
"Harry and Ron are coming, I'd like to see them. And it would mean a lot to me if you'd come along and try to be civil."
Draco sighed and rolled his eyes.
"You want me to be nice to Pothead and the Weasel? Seriously?"
She poked his ribs sharply, then lay down next to him, her head tucked into the crook of his neck. She heard him splutter and knew it was more to rile her up than to really get her unruly hair out of his mouth. She'd braided it tightly, after all.
"Please, Draco? For me?"
When he sighed again, she knew he'd given in.
...
"Hermione!"
"Hey, 'Mione!"
Hermione turned around towards the voices of her two best friends and was engulfed in a tight group hug a moment later. She could feel the tension she hadn't even known was there dissipate from her shoulders.
"Harry! Ron! I missed you guys!"
They laughed and hugged again, until a discreet cough reminded them that they weren't alone.
"You remember Draco, I'm sure?"
Harry's smile faltered, but he stuck out his hand and said, "Malfoy. How are you?"
Ron's face turned into a frown, his blue eyes blazing with anger.
Draco shook Harry's hand and murmured a greeting. He nodded at Ron, but didn't offer his hand. Hermione watched the whole thing with bated breath, plastered a big smile on her face that belied the tension that had instantly made another appearance and hooked her arm into Draco's.
"Shall we go have a drink somewhere? I haven't seen Aberforth in a while, maybe we can go to the Hog's Head? How's Auror training going?" She led the way down the main road towards the dingy pub, keeping up a conversation with Harry while Ron followed them, glowering. They found a cosy nook for the four of them and settled around the table, Hermione tucking herself into Draco's side with a defiant look towards Ron, who seemed to get angrier every second. Harry ordered a round of butterbeers before joining them.
"And how have you been?" Harry asked.
"Shagging the Ferret much?" Ron bit out.
Hermione flushed with embarrassment and anger.
"Why, yes, Ronald, several times a day, if you must know," she snapped, her hand on Draco's leg tightening in warning.
"Ron…"
"No, Harry, let him speak. I'm sure he has a lot he wants to get off his chest," Hermione interrupted.
Ron stood up and slammed his fists down on the table.
"Bloody hell, Hermione, what are you thinking? The Ferret? Of all people? The one who called you Mudblood for years? The one who stood by as you were tortured? What's happened, the torture turn all your marbles loose? Is that why you didn't want us to give it a try? Was the Prophet right and have you been seeing him since last summer?"
Hermione stood, leaning on the table, her face inches from Ron's.
"This isn't about him, really, is it," she hissed. "This is about us breaking up."
"So what if it is? He's a fucking Death Eater, 'Mione, how can you even stand the sight of him? How can you stand his touch?"
"I know perfectly well who he is and what he has done, Ronald. The difference between the two of you, is that he has changed, he learned from the past, and he's moved on. You are still the same as you ever were, with the same prejudices, the same hatred, the same irrational anger. Grow the fuck up."
She never noticed that he suddenly had his wand out. Draco was blasted against the wall, and Ron held him in a death grip not moments later, his wand pressing painfully into his neck.
"What the hell did you do to her, you little piece of shit. Imperius? Love potions? Mind alterations? Tell me!"
It took three wizards to get him off Draco, and after making sure he wasn't hurt, she stepped up to Ron and slapped him across the face. The sound resonated in the suddenly quiet room.
"I am NOT under the imperius. I am NOT potioned. I am fully aware of what I'm doing and I am not coerced in any way. I'm with Draco because I love him. The past doesn't matter. When will everyone just accept that the War is over and we need to move ON?" And with a frustrated scream, she grabbed hold of Draco, turned on her heel and apparated to the gates of Hogwarts.
"I suppose that could have gone worse," Draco said, holding her in a tight embrace.
Hermione laughed, because that was better than give in to the tears.
Interlude: Valentine stargazing
He blindfolded her and led her up the stairs, and up, and up, and up, carefully guiding her to make sure she wouldn't trip. She bit her lip and gripped his hands so tightly she was sure she was leaving bruises, but putting so much trust in him was difficult, even though she knew, she knew he wouldn't hurt her. When they finally stopped, slightly out of breath and muscles burning from the exercise, she let out a sigh of relief. He startled her when his lips were suddenly moving softly, enticingly, teasingly against hers and she almost didn't notice that he'd loosened the knot in her blindfold while he was distracting her.
She blinked a couple of times at the sight before her. They were standing on a platform at the top of the West Tower, overlooking the dark mass of Hogwarts Castle and the lake reflecting the stars. He'd placed torches at the edges and a picnic blanket on the floor, an array of fruit and chocolates on a tray, and a bottle of champagne on ice.
He shifted nervously from one foot to the other, and she looked at him, unable to disguise her delight. The insecure and vulnerable look on his face made her heart clench and she stepped up to him and pressed her lips against his, her arms twining around his neck and pulling him closer and closer still.
"You're such a sap," she whispered while trailing kisses across his jaw and neck and nipping at his earlobe. His arms snaked around her waist and he leaned heavily into her.
"Too much?"
"Just perfect," she said.
After feeding each other fruit and chocolates with the most surprising and delectable fillings, they extinguished the torches and lay down on the blanket, fingers intertwined and heads close together, pointing out the constellations.
"I like looking at the stars," he said quietly. "They never judge. It makes me feel free."
She squeezed his hand, but said nothing, her eyes fixed on the Draco constellation in the sky above.
March
"Why do you keep letting them get away with this?"
"Merlin's saggy tits, Hermione, not this again."
Draco sighed and turned his head away at Hermione's angry huff. He winced as his ribs shifted and cracked and mended under her spells. She'd not even offered him a pain potion this time.
"One day I'm just going to let you lie in this bed and have your injuries mend the Muggle way, slowly and painfully," Hermione said, scowling.
"Ow, woman, watch what you're doing," Draco exclaimed when she prodded one of his bruises a little too forcefully.
"If you'd watch what you were doing and not go around inviting people to hit those bloody bludgers at you, you wouldn't be lying here in the first place," Hermione snapped.
Draco felt the anger boiling beneath his skin but bit his tongue. He still refused to look at her, and only turned his head when she stopped casting spells at him. She stood with her back to him, her arms wrapped around herself and her head bowed. Only when she turned back to continue, he realised that she was fighting tears.
"I just wish this wouldn't happen every time you go out to fly."
Draco shook his head and held out his uninjured hand towards her. She threaded her fingers through his and sat down carefully on his bed.
"What would you have me do, Hermione? Not fly at all? Why should I give up flying? And what will be next if I do give in?"
His voice was gentle, but there was a sharp edge to it that betrayed his anger.
"But you just let them. You just let them hex you and jinx you and use you for bludger target practice. Why don't you stand up to them?"
Draco snatched his hand away, his patience fraying at the edges.
"You know I can't draw my wand and cast any spell outside classes. They'll send me back to Azkaban in a heartbeat."
Hermione straightened her back and tucked a stray curl behind her ear with precise and sharp movements.
"You can't let them get away with this," she repeated, stubbornly.
"I'm not some sodding Gryffindor, Hermione. If you want bold and brash you should look elsewhere."
She glared at him and reset the bones in his hand with a well-aimed spell without warning him. The pain burned through his fingers and arm all the way to his shoulder, and he hissed angrily. Then he took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure.
"It's March. Only three more months and I'm free, and I'll never see any of those idiots again. I can survive three more months of this."
Hermione muttered something under her breath that he didn't quite catch, but Draco guessed it would be best if he didn't ask. They fought more and more often lately; he didn't want this to become yet another big row. She finished at last, and though still bruised and battered, at least his body was now humming with healing magic.
Hermione took his hand in hers again, her thumb tracing figures on the back of his hand.
"So what happens when we leave here, then? Do you think it's going to be better out in the real world? Do you think people won't try to curse you in the back for the crimes your family committed?"
Draco could feel his restraint cracking.
"Circe be damned, Hermione, can't you let this go?"
Hermione stood up, her foot stamping on the floor and squeezing his hand painfully tight.
"No, Draco, I won't let this go. You can't let this go on. You think it's bad here? You've seen the Prophet, you've seen the hate mail and Howlers. What do you think it's going to be like outside? You just keep turning away like it doesn't really matter, but what's going to happen if I'm not there? What if I can't get to you in time? Why do you keep putting yourself in danger?"
"Maybe I'll move to France, once my probation is over. The War didn't affect them and we still have friends."
"France? You never mentioned France before. When did you decide this?"
"Oh, I don't know. Just now? I haven't really thought about the future, Hermione, I'm more preoccupied with surviving the present."
"And what about me? Do I get a say in this?"
"What? What does that have to do with anything? You can do whatever you like. You're a Heroine of the War, any hospital or Healing school would be happy to offer you a place. You have the world at your feet, I stay here and I get spat on at every corner."
"So you just decided that, did you."
"Yes, yes I did."
"So if I wanted to train at St Mungo's you wouldn't stay here?"
"For fuck's sake, Hermione, you're the one who's banging on about what a terrible place the British Wizarding world is for me, and how everyone hates me. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to send out applications for internships and being refused point-blank, with my grades and skills? Do you have any idea what it's like to be hated for being on the wrong side of the War by one half of society, and for sullying the bloodline by the other half? And what makes you think I would want to suffer all this for a Mudblood?"
As soon as the word left his mouth he knew he'd screwed up. He saw her face turn white, her lips pressed together tightly, her hands clenching into fists. And suddenly, with painful clarity, he knew he had to push her away. That theirs wasn't a love story that was meant to be. So he swallowed the apology that had almost fought its way out of his mouth and turned his face into a derisive sneer instead. "Go back to your good-for-nothing Gryffindors, Granger, like the good little heroine you are."
Hermione stalked out of the Infirmary, jaw clenched and eyes blinking furiously to stave off the tears.
He didn't call her back.
Finale: Easter
She'd thought that going back to the Burrow for Easter would be easier than to stay at Hogwarts. She'd been wrong.
School had become a special kind of hell since their break-up, with students whispering gleefully behind her back, and often simply in front of her. Madam Roseberry had tutted sympathetically and taken over Malfoy's care without complaint. She hadn't seen him since those hateful words had fallen off his lips. The scar on her arm itched constantly. So when Ginny invited her to come over for Easter, she accepted, hoping to get her mind off of everything.
Not that Harry or Ron said "I told you so" - though she was certain Ron had to physically stop himself from blurting it out sometimes - but it was in everything they did or didn't say. It was in every disappointed look, in every triumphant laugh they shared, in every gesture and word.
She poured herself into her exam prep, staying in the room she shared with Ginny and only coming out for meals. Nobody noticed she was wasting away.
