Ch. 5: The Book
Everyone had just seemed to accept their friendship… well most. Draco wasn't bothered by the comments or sneers his fellow Slytherins shot at them, but now that he could hear her every thought, he knew it ebbed on her confidence. Hermione had always acted as though their jeers didn't affect her, and that had been a comfort to Draco, who'd previously wanted to maintain an image. But now, hearing the effect…
"Hey, Malfoy's following around his whore again! The ugly mudblood must be good in bed, since he bothers to spend so much time with her." Shouted Parkinson, as they strolled- shoulder to shoulder- through the corridor.
It's true. I am not pretty, and without a doubt I'm sure that Draco isn't hanging out with me because I could offer him something in the more intimate aspects of a relationship…God, not that I want to! Stop thinking about him that way. Think about puppies, and flowers, and anything but naked Malfoy! Why even let my mind wander there, he's my friend, and I'm not his type? Draco brushed his hand against hers, considering lacing his fingers through hers-to show that he did care and that she was beyond desirable- but decided against it, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.
"I'll see you later," Hermione mumbled, swerving down the nearest corridor, and he cursed himself for driving her away. He couldn't do anything right.
Hermione wandered aimlessly around the school. Although she knew her ultimate destination, she'd decided to take a detour. If he went looking for her in the library, she wouldn't be there, and by the time he'd leave, Hermione would finally venture in. She needed to be alone. While she often complained about the solitude, and hated not being wanted, she also needed space. Time to rationalise thoughts, alone. Not that she truly had the freedom to do so now.
"Hermione. How great it is to see you," drawled Luna, lazily, as she strolled up alongside her.
"Hi Luna," she mumbled, half-heartedly.
"So, you and Malfoy, eh? He really is something to look at. Much more handsome that Ron," she added, mystically, as though voicing her internal monologue; forgetting that Hermione was present. Her ability to drift into her own little world, ultimately meant that she was subconsciously blunt. Hermione didn't comment. With Luna's bluntness, came an untrustworthy quality, as she could- unbeknownst to herself- relay information to anyone. "Do tell Harry and Ron, I've been asking after them." She added wistfully before skipping off. She had forgotten, being so caught up in her new friendship. Hermione had almost turned her back on her other friends. She now rushed off to the library, with a newfound purpose.
Dear Harry, and, Ron,
How are you both keeping? I miss you both terribly. Hogwarts really isn't the same without the two of you, and especially with the threat of Voldemort gone. It feels as though I'm getting a second chance at what a normal education- free of danger, and a Dark Lord- should be like.
You'll both be delighted to hear, that I've got heaps of spare time on my hands, now that I don't have three lots of homework to do. I'm sorry, I keep reminiscing on our past years here, rather than what it is currently like. As you can imagine, there is still a great deal of construction to be done on the building, and it's a blessing we were able to return at all. There has been an increase in the amount of classes allotted to Defence Against the Dark Arts, understandably. Oh, and how could I forget? Being Head Girl is somewhat easier than I imagined. There is still a great deal of responsibility, and of course, I enjoy the authority, but it seems they're cutting us a bit of slack.
Harry, what's it like being an Auror? I'm positive that you're doing excellently- you are the most suited to the job. Ron, have you found a job yet? Tell me everything that's been going on with the two of you. It's unnatural for us to be apart this long. How's everyone else doing?
All my love,
Hermione.
She had been cautious in her phrasing. Harry and Ron would freak if they thought Draco was within a three-mile radius of her. Hermione was repulsed by having to lie to her friends, but even more, because she had to hide a truly genuine friend.
I'm glad that I've made the final cut. Who'll break it to Potter and Weasel? Draco teased. Without having to look around, Hermione knew that he had just entered the library. When they'd first discovered the bond, it had been like a slight itch in her mind- almost like that one thing you're supposed to remember, but never can. She had been unable to identify the feeling for days before he made the first contact. But it seemed the closer they became, the stronger the bond grew. It wasn't like a spell locator or anything. It had to be in use. It was like, when he spoke to her, she could determine how far away he was, depending on the intensity.
Sure enough, he rounded the bookshelf moments later, dropping into the seat across from her, feet brushing hers. Hermione jumped back surprised, crossing one ankle over the other, moving them behind the leg of the chair- out of his reach. He smirked, knowingly and they fell into a comfortable silence, both reading.
Draco glanced over the rim of his book at her. Hermione had become a drug to him. He only felt at ease in her company.
Good to know. Shit! Shit. Shit. She wasn't supposed to hear that. Draco's guard was really slipping. As he sat, freaking out internally, trying to reverse the moment, she glanced up at him from under her lashes, raising her eyebrow and smirking- almost mimicking an expression one would associate with Draco himself.
Too late to go back now, I'm slowly being corrupted. She teased, pulling a horrified look, and going back to her book. Draco couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.
Hermione glanced up, horrified, thinking he was having a convulsion or something. Never, in her entire life, had she heard Draco laugh. Yes, he'd chuckle, or make some dignified sound in response to something he deemed amusing. But nothing like the shrill laughter than rang around the room. He was clutching his side, finding the ability to breath difficult, while tilting his head back, mouth agape. It was contagious. Hermione had started giggling, amused by his unnatural state, when she'd found the humour in the insanity of the situation. Both sat, heaving in air as the laughter never ceased. When Draco finally heard her laughing, over the sound of himself, it sent him into another round; though far less graceful- becoming more disgruntled. As he took in a deep breath, his throat began emitting animalistic sounds, adding to Hermione's enjoyment. She was gripping the desk.
"Stop, stop." She smiled, glancing up, pleading, as though he were in control of it.
We're unhinged.
Agreed. Draco smiled, straightening his tie, unsure of how to transition out of a situation like that. His friends had never joked around- everything had always been serious between them. At home, laughing was an impossibility. Looking back on it, there had been nothing particularly funny to strike up such a display. But if being crazy is this much fun, then why stop? And with that he got up, and left.
Madame Pince appeared, looking stern, seeking out the culprits for such sound. Upon seeing Hermione, sitting blissfully unaware, smiling into thin air, the librarian shook her head, confused.
Draco heaved the leather-bound book from the shelf above his armoire. If Hermione ever knew he was in possession of this, or even had knowledge of its existence, he feared that it would reverse their progress. The black leather cover had intricate designs, ruins, and symbols carved into it, and the pages whispered to him; taunting. His father had surprisingly allowed Draco complete access to the Malfoy archives- one of the few unmonitored activities he'd been granted. Draco had been drawn to this book, before he had ever come to need use for its contents. Upon realising it was gone, Lucius had warned him gravely, that while it was a useful spell book and source of knowledge for ancient magic, it also had the capability to turn even the lightest wizards dark- if they happened upon the wrong section.