Rob-girl: omgwtfbbq! That is the sweetest review ever! Thank you so much. Props to you for...ummmm...being cool? Yeah, for being cool. I guess it's good for a first fic because I write a bunch of other stuff – short stories and poetry – so I'm already practiced with writing. And yes, they will become friends. In this chapter, in fact (kind of), so keep reading!
C: that's really nice of you! It's also funny, b/c I've always been a dramione shipper, but now I'm kind of broadening my horizons, like you (?). Thanks for the review!
And now, things get juicy *smiles mischeviously*:
Chapter 4: What happened to you?
Several weeks passed in Hermione's life without incident and September began to melt into October. She was doing well in all of her classes, and helping her friends out as much as possible—especially Ron. This was NEWT year and, after their teacher's preliminary first-class speeches about the tests, they were piled with homework. Hermione, even being a brilliant witch, was spending more time than usual in the library, the Gryffindor Common Room, or the Head Common Room doing her work.
As for Malfoy, Hermione was unsure. They were on speaking terms, of course. They were polite toward each other at first, respectful; in the morning, Hermione got the bathroom first (because she woke up earlier anyway) and Draco in the evening. She usually sat near the books, while Draco studied in the part of the room closest to the fire.
What surprised Hermione the most was that she was beginning to get closer to Malfoy. They actually had real conversations. In the evening, if either said something—anything really—the other would respond, and they would just start talking. Hermione found out that Malfoy was quite smart—he was taking Arithmancy, along with the regulars. Also, it turned out they had a lot in common, and could talk about almost anything. They chatted about school and vacations and friends and music and even Quidditch occasionally.
However, they avoided some topics ardently, such as anything to do specifically with Hermione's parentage, the two's past...issues, and most especially the war. They kept away from these subjects at all costs, and if one were accidentally mentioned, the conversation would come to a complete stop until they could smooth over it and change the subject.
One night, after having finished her Potions essay, Hermione had gotten up and peeked over the back of the couch to see what Malfoy was up to.
He was checking over some Arithmacy homework he had just completed. Hermione saw an error and decided to help him out.
"Number 3 is wrong."
"What?" He looked over his shoulder, only slightly surprised to see her—she did this a lot.
"Number 3, on your Arithmacy homework, it's incorrect."
He looked at it for a few moments... "oh, you're right. It's ί, not 2ί. Thanks."
"You're welcome." She walked around the couch and plopped down near him, watching as he changed the answer.
"Hey, Granger," he said, not looking up from his parchment.
"Yes?"
"Why do you take so long in the bathroom every morning?"
"What?" she said, flustered. "I do? Oh no! I'm sorry!"
Malfoy laughed. "It's alright Granger, bloody hell."
But she didn't seem to hear him. "I didn't realize it! Please don't tell me you wait around for me to finish."
"Alright, I won't tell you," he said, the corner of his mouth curling as he finally finished his corrections and looked up.
"Malfoy! Why didn't you tell me?! Really, if we're going to cohabitate, there has to be some communication."
"Cohabitate? Granger, did you read the dictionary for fun when you were a kid?" This was a rhetorical question, obviously. Of course I did she thought. "Oh," he added, "and you never answered my question."
"Oh," she cocked her head, trying to remember what the original question had been. "Why? Well I guess I just take long showers. This thing," she pointed at her hair, "is not so easily tamed."
Malfoy pulled one knee up onto the couch so he was facing her more and looked at it. "I could have guessed as much."
She looked at him, fake annoyed. "Oh, thanks."
"What! You said it, not me."
"And what about you?" she argued. "Did your hair come packaged like that, or did you have to buy batteries?"
Draco feigned astonishment. "Why, Granger, how dare you! My hair is absolutely natural. I do not use product."
Hermione looked at his straight, silvery-blonde hair. It was smooth and sleek and lay flat on his head with a side part. It came down just to his ears. It was very attractive—the kind Hermione would want to run her fingers through.................wait. She mentally shook herself and cocked an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I'll believe that when Professor Snape wears pink."
They both cracked up at this and finally Malfoy confessed, "ok, ok, I do put a little gel in every morning." Hermione's eyebrow rose even higher. "and some spray too. Ok! I want to look good. Sue me!" They laughed again. Hermione loved his laugh. It was so strong and masculine. "Besides, you say your hair is impossible, but it can't be that bad. These days, it's been looking quite nice."
Hermione was glad of the red glow of the fire as she blushed and looked away.
0
And all of a sudden, Draco had the urge to lean forward and kiss her. She was so innocent, sweet, funny, and so modest—she never boasted about her grades, how she was the top of their class, and here she was surprised that someone was complimenting her...
...Wait...
No. This was where Draco drew the line. He may have changed his ethics a lot, but girls were a category completely unaffected. Draco had always been taught by his father quantity over quality, especially with respect to women. Draco had learned well. He had been with a lot of girls, from ever single house, and (during his 4th year and over breaks) from all over the continent. Draco was good at sex, and he was even better at not getting attached. He prided himself for being able to get in, get dressed, and get out. He had a reputation for it. That was one of the things Draco had retained after the war, and he wasn't about to lose it because he started to like one girl too much.
And yet, here she was, just waiting for him. She was beautiful—dark chocolate eyes, full red lips, well proportioned body...Draco felt something familiar and alien at the pit of his stomach.
And the more he thought, the more confused he got.
0
It took Hermione a few moments to compose herself—she was not used to compliments, and that one had been accompanied with such a smile...
When she looked up at Malfoy, however, she saw him staring, not at her, but deep into the flames of the fireplace. His brow was furrowed and he looked so...lost - broken, scattered, confused. She wished she could console him somehow. She wanted to take the shattered pieces of him and place them back in order
It was like, he needed to be healed.
He had his elbow on his knee and chin in his hand, fingers curving up around his mouth. Suddenly, the image of Malfoy sitting under a tree, 4 years ago, talking to a transformed Rita Skeeter appeared in her head. She remembered the humiliating articles that had come from the two conspirers. Everything he had ever done to hurt her and Harry and Ron, from his first snide mudblood comment to attacking them in the Room of Requirement, came flooding back to her. However, after a flash of it, she didn't feel the regular old hatred. How could she, after these past few weeks? No, she was instead filled with a desire to know how he had gone from that to this.
"What happened to you, Malfoy?" she said without meaning to. Hermione was astonished with herself, and yet not upset—she was burning with curiosity.
0
Draco's head snapped up. What Granger had said sounded like it was spoken half to herself, and it was in such a soft voice...yet he knew she meant it.
Granger wanted to understand him—Draco Malfoy! She wished to know his darkest secrets. Maybe she didn't know that that was what she had asked him, but it was. Part of his head piped up: Why don't you tell her?! He had never really talked to anyone in depth of the horrors of being a Death Eater; of being given orders you have no choice but to obey, or you may have to watch those you love murdered; of being tortured when you make the slightest mistake; of wishing so much to be able to go back to a normal life, but knowing it's impossible. He longed to tell her everything—Draco knew she would listen.
But how could he? How could he ever reveal so much of himself to someone he shared such a history with?
And as his thought moved in this rapid downward direction, he thought, how dare she? She doesn't have the right to ask so much of me! She doesn't have a clue. She had breached the most important rule, almost without knowing it: never talk about the war...ever.
And his heart grew cold.
"Nothing, Granger. Nothing happened," he said quietly as he stood and walked to the stairway.
0
Hermione was hurt. It had been a simple question, so why had he gotten so angry? What was up with him? It's not like she had asked him to bear his soul, she just wondered how he had turned himself around.
She was also annoyed. She and Malfoy had been having a nice conversation. Why did he have to ruin it by getting defensive?
Hermione recalled the way his face look once she had said what she did. First he looked surprised, and then vulnerable—so much so that she was convinced he would tell her—so much so that she wanted to reach out and touch him. Just as quickly he appeared...crestfallen? And then in quick succession angry—furious, actually—and hurt.
Hermione prided herself on her ability to read people.
And then Hermione was overcome with shame—shame for saying anything at all. Because, thinking about it logically (which Hermione always did) she had asked Malfoy to bear his soul. The question may have been simple but could the answer have been? Of course not! For Malfoy to have changed so dramatically he must have endured a lot—so much he couldn't even talk about it. And she had hurt him by mentioning it. Hermione berated herself for being so stupid
However, instead of just feeling sorry for the both of them, she resolved to do something about it. Hermione was never one to sit idly by and wait for things to happen. No, there were no two ways about it—the next chance she got, she would apologize.
0000000000000000000
In his room, Draco was slowly coming to the same conclusion, though it took him much longer than Hermione.
Draco was lying face-down on his green sheets, restraining himself from getting up and throwing something across the room.
He completely regretted his earlier actions. Why did he have to fuck everything up so badly! Why had he gotten so angry with her! Granger had every right to wonder about him! She knew better than most what a horrible person he had been, so she must be even more surprised with his transformation than he was. Yet she was dealing with it graciously. Granger was being kind and compassionate and friendly and he didn't deserve any of it.
On one side, Draco really like Granger—she was the closest thing to an honest friend he had at this point, besides her beauty and humility and sweetness, and did he mention beauty?
But on the other hand, she was his former enemy, a girl he had taunted and ridiculed and attacked on countless occasions. How could she ever really like him? Or, even more so, trust him? To do that she would truly have to know about him—exactly what she had just tried to do. And he had gotten angry, shut her down, walked away.
Draco's thoughts ranted and raved at him, circling around and around in his head until late into the night, after he heard Granger go to bed. Finally he made a simple decision—he just had to say he was sorry—that simple and that complex. Suddenly he felt so much better it was almost as if he had already done it, and soon Draco was able to drift off to sleep.
Juicy enough for you? I hope you liked the conversation part. I'm not very good at dialogue, and this was my first attempt at anything long and complex, so it may be kind of weird...I had to rewrite it, like, 3 million times :-P
Anyways, I have an announcement: Mid Terms at my school are coming up next week (eek!). I've barely written at all in the past few days, and I like being ahead, and I'm probably gonna be updating less often for a short while, and I might...well it's kind of complicated, but suffice it to say that this next week or so (maybe more) is gonna be off schedule, so bear with me.
So review! Remeber: review = 3!
-Ginger
