YEAR FOUR
"I didn't think I'd ever see you back here, Malfoy."
"None of your business Granger."
She sat across him with a soft giggle and turned back to her book. 'Back to last name basis I see,' she thought to herself.
He left first with a soft farewell. She did nothing but smile and wave.
…
The night of the Quidditch match was still burned into the back of Hermione's mind the next time she visited the space only to find it empty.
The carpeted floor was bare except for a small card sitting atop the Slytherin's prince's usual place.
Written on it in neat cursive:
Sorry about match night, Father was there.
Heard about your campaign for house elves. Good luck.
Don't wait for me. I'm practicing at the field.
A huge grin spread on her face and she tucked the note away in her pocket and rushed off. Surely he wouldn't mind if she watched from a distance.
…
"He didn't you know," sighed Hermione as Draco opened his mouth upon her arrival. She knew he'd accuse her lightning-scarred friend of cheating.
A playful smirk played on his lips, "Actually I was going to ask about you," eyebrows raised, "having to defend Scarface all the time must be exhausting."
She narrowed her eyes at him, contemplating on whether or not to believe his words. He raised his palms in a show of innocence, a small smile on his lips.
Finally she smiled back and sat down next to him, ready to tell her unlikely friend all about her attempts to clear Harry's name and save his friendship with Ronald Weasley. The two of them laughed and talked for hours.
…
The next time she saw him at the space was the evening following Cedric Diggory's memorial service.
He arrived in a hurry, expecting a teary-eyed Hermione. When he arrived, he was faced with a tight-lipped, rather angry looking Granger.
The blonde stopped dead in his tracks, watching and waiting warily.
Happy Hermione, he enjoyed. Sad Hermione, he could manage. Exhausted Hermione, he did not mind. Infuriated and panicked Hermione…he had no clue on what to do. Women are complicated beings with hundreds of emotions that can lead to thousands of different reactions.
"He's back, the most feared wizard of all time…Lord Vold-"
He rushed forward and pressed a slender finger against her lips, eyes softening whilst hers widened.
"Shush Hermione, we both know you didn't sleep last night comforting Potter and Ravenclaw's Chang girl."
Her knees trembled and he guided them both slowly to the ground, letting he lean her head against his shoulder, keeping an arm wrapped around her and holding her hand with his other hand.
"Silly girl. You've been so occupied with everyone else, you've forgotten about occupying yourself with yourself."
She cried and talked for hours, he listened until she was okay.
She left first and as she walked away he remembered the Yule Ball.
Whispers ran through the room as Durmstrang Triwizard Champion and Bulgarian International Seeker, Viktor Krum walked in with Gryffindor Princess, bookworm, Ace student and beauty of the Golden Trio, Hermione Granger. Draco felt an unfamiliar feeling spread through him as the music started. Smooth notes guided the dancer's steps.
Her hair shone like strands of golden brown, so silky he longed to touch it.
Her eyes shone like stars in the night sky, eyelashes bringing out their rich chocolate color beautifully as those very eyes followed the eyes of her dance partner.
'Eyes that should be on me,' the blonde Slytherin growled mentally.
Her periwinkle blue gown showed off her gentle curves while modestly covering her, she looked like the Queen of Ice with eyes as brown as autumn and a smile as fresh as spring. And well, she looked a girl as hot as summer.
That smile, it filled the room with joy and lit up like a forest fire at midnight.
No camera, be it magical or Muggle could have portrayed that radiant smile as it was now. Her lovely curls followed her every spin, step and turn.
When Victor Krum lifted her, the spotlight reflected onto her and as she rose Draco swore he saw an angel right there.
'…In Krum's crummy arms,' he thought bitterly to himself.
And with that Draco shrugged off Parkinson's manicured hands and stormed off, shaking with anger and jealousy, and a deep feeling of sadness and regret.
Regret of not asking her to the ball herself.
When Victor Krum resurfaced holding Hermione, Draco felt an overwhelming feeling of relief. He had wanted to scoop her up in his arms and carry her away. Same for during the Yule Ball.
But he didn't. Why?
Because he was a Malfoy.
She was Muggle-born.
She was a Gryffindor.
He was the Slytherin Prince.
That's why.