Chapter 5- Redemption

By the glow of the dying light that now struggled to illuminate the library, Draco guessed it was already at least a half past five. All day the sky threatened more rain, possibly even snow as November was nearly ending, giving way to an even less inviting December. He could barely even remember when he had first arrived at the library that afternoon, as his tired eyes were focused solemnly on one particular sight. His forehead was dotted with droplets of sweat, his body feverish and unsteady. It was foolish, unbearably so. He was wasting his time. Yet the more his brain demanded for him to continue his work, the stronger the urge to ignore it became. Draco was in a dream-like haze, which was a refreshing change of pace from his usual excruciating nightmares; and he was completely stuck, just helplessly watching the scene… Watching her.

Granger was arched over the desk, with messy strands of hair drawn in knots down her back, and her foot tapping incessantly against the wooden floor. It was the third consecutive day he had encountered her whilst working at the library, and it was always the exact same scenario: she arrived shortly after three, sat in her usual table near the restricted area, and read. Read and wrote until her delicate fingers started cramping. It was so vulgar, so supposedly indifferent to him, but he couldn't take his eyes off of her. It wasn't that he wasn't used to seeing her work beyond her limits, it had been the source of many of his rude remarks over the years, but it was more that something felt a little different. Any other day she would've been mouthing and muttering to herself like a demented person, making almost every student around her cast a silencing charm at their table, but this wasn't any other day. This was the present, the twisted, unwelcoming present. Draco was surprised how many times he still had to remind himself that Granger was indeed deaf; often enough he still confused her for the lonely, overachieving pain he had always considered her to be.

Now she was exposed, constantly. Stripped of her hearing, and probably of any lasting sense of security that was somehow still hanging by a thin thread. It was an anomaly. Draco detested anomalies. Patterns were safe and predictability was essential and very well liked. He hated acquiring knowledge about her, but he couldn't help it. Every day he noticed another detail about her body and about how she functioned. It was infuriating how much space in his brain was now occupied with annoying, useless information about her.

The slight twitch of her hand when she put down her quill after writing for too long, the constant chewing of her lips, the arch of her eyebrows when she didn't understand a question and the slight curve of her mouth when she finally did…

All shit. Everything was shit.

Most times Hermione didn't even notice him, especially if she was completely immersed in her own world, as she often was, but some times she wondered why his ashy irises lingered on her when he passed by. Not that she cared though, she was so unbelievably far from giving a shit about him, but nonetheless she was curious. It seemed that he had given up on trying to distress her, staying silent whenever they shared any type of space together, whether it was classes, or just casually around the castle.

It actually seemed that he had lately given up on distressing anybody else, for that matter. Hermione wondered what made his change his mind. People around him were still quite reluctant and untrusting, though the tension had apparently been much less prominent in comparison to his arrival. She was sure it wasn't her semi-aggressive letter that did the trick, and it seemed unlikely that it had been Professor McGonagall's punishment either, so it was only natural for her to wonder. Maybe he had finally realized that he was the one that was wrong all this time, nearly eight years to be exact. Ever since they had come to Hogwarts, Draco had never been anything short of rude and, well, evil. Maybe now he figured out every one around him was only trying to help him, and that even now, when most people (including her) had lost their complete hope on him, there were still those willingly to help guide him.

It seemed rather pointless, in her modest opinion, but it also seemed pointless to learn silent spells, and now it was proving to be extremely helpful. Either way, she would much rather stay as far way from him as Hogwarts allowed. Malfoy had always meant trouble, and that would certainly never change.

At the exact moment Hermione snapped one of her books shut, Draco widened his eyes and finally turned around, fearful she would notice he was there. Since she came in that afternoon, at three sharp this time, Draco stayed purposely out of her sight, slightly enjoying the fact she couldn't hear his loud, accelerated breathing or his clumsy limbs as he moved back and forth behind the tall shelves. He tightened his grip on the dirty cloth he was holding, the one he had been using to muggle-clean the books that covered every inch of that annoyingly large library, and let out a heavy breath.

Before she could open another book and begin round two or three of her study marathon, Draco felt his own legs trick him into walking towards her, though he wasn't sure what for. He had no idea what he would actually say when he got there…

"Granger." He exhaled, after holding his breath for a dangerously long time, and took the seat in front of her.

"Merlin, you scared me!" She growled, annoyed and breathless, not even fully aware that it was indeed Malfoy sitting across from her "Oh, it's you."

"Gladly so." Draco simply replied, resting his head on his hand, glad he could now observe her from much closer.

"Are you?" She asked, intrigued "Are you glad that you're you?"

"Most times." He shrugged, obviously lying to himself, even though he desperately wanted both of them to believe in it.

"If I had your cons-cience…" Hermione stuttered, slightly stuck on the word "I wouldn't be."

"Just as well." Draco slowly mouthed, making sure she understood before proceeding "I don't have one."

"What a shock." She rolled her brown eyes, with a bored expression "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Draco noticed that even though she was pretending to be unbothered, she was already engaged in their exchange, interested even. Her glazing eyes followed each of his movements, no matter how delicate or low-key, as if they were the only way of understanding him; in a fucked up sense, they really were.

"Answers." Draco said after a long pause, a half-smile printing on his smug, pale face.

"I have nothing to say to you." Hermione shook her head disapprovingly, catching a strand of hair that was falling on her face and tucking it delicately behind her ear.

"Consider me intrigued, Granger." He hummed in a low voice, avoiding any unwanted attention from the other students. "Seeing you stripped away from all your Gryffindor pride and glory… It's refreshing to say the least."

Hermione's brain wired a million different responses, but no words or even sound left her mouth. What kind of game was he trying to play now? He was surely attempting to trick her into admitting defeat and insecurity, but she knew much better than to give him what he wanted.

"I am not stripped off anything, I am still the exact same person…" She argued, ignoring the rolls of her tongue as she spoke.

"You're not." Draco interrupted brutally, lifting his head from his hand and intertwining his long fingers. "We both know that."

Again, she was stuck. Speechless. She couldn't think of any other occasion where they had had such a civilized conversation, especially without insults or references to her filthy blood. These mind games of his weren't exactly the best alternative, given all the tension that hovered over at that moment, but at least it was something new. Still, she had had little to not practice when it came to dealing with Malfoy beyond arguments and sharp tongues.

It felt strange. Beyond strange, even. If Ron had been there, listening to that conversation, she was sure he would've said they were both "Bloody mental"… And Merlin, he would've been right.

"It's exciting to see you not fit your house aesthetic anymore. Gryffindor never suited you anyway." He brought his face closer to hers, and she shifted uncomfortable in her seat.

"I will ask you one more time." Hermione said, letting out an impatient sigh "What do you want?"

"I already told you." He shrugged, like she hadn't been paying attention "Answers."

"What could you possibly have to ask me?" She huffed, now obviously bothered.

Draco arched up his eyebrow, his stomach twisting as he remembered that night, specifically the image of Granger curled up, crying incessantly.

"What were you doing in the Astronomy tower last week?" He asked, also shifting in his chair, shuffling away those memories as rapidly as possible.

"Is that what this is all about?" She laughed, quite louder than what she probably planned, "You're pathetic."

"I'm simply curious."

"What were you doing there, then?" Hermione mimicked his eyebrow raise "I'm curious as well."

"Couldn't sleep." He mouthed, without any significant facial expression.

Hermione wasn't sure why that answer made her so uncomfortable. Maybe because of how honest it was. There wasn't a shadow of doubt in her mind that he wasn't lying, and she definitely didn't expect that.

The light outside grew dimmer and dimmer, before the skies eventually turned a heavy blue color and the library became illuminated with small lamps and candles that she could eye far way on Madam Pince's desk. Hermione was moving around in her chair, uncomfortable and with her robes sticking against her sweaty skin. For someone who had always such a quick, quite fiery tongue, she now seemed slow and calculating, as if nothing she could say would catch him off guard, like he had done to her way too many times already.

"Okay." She nodded, unsure. "Me neither."

"You know, I've been resistant to the thought that any slimy Gryffindor and I could share any similarities… Especially you… But I have to admit, it rather seems that way, don't you think?" Draco shrugged once more, still not daring to look away from her. He was too invested now, enjoying the fire he was slowly creating.

"You and I don't share anything." Hermione rolled her eyes, tapping her foot against the floor in a fast pace "I will never be like you!"

"Give it time, Granger." He said, curling his lips into a smirk.

"I won't change." She nodded to herself, decidedly "And neither will you."

"Maybe."

"Certainly." Hermione exhaled, unwilling to ever show defeat.

"Doesn't it bother you how insanely wrong you often are?" Draco rubbed his temples, pretending to be annoyed.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, almost offended.

"Never."

Malfoy sighed, rolling up the sleeves of his robes. She always faked security in herself, even if not all of it, and he could see right through her performance. It was all overcompensation, he thought, for how insecure she was now. Her circumstances weren't easy, even an uncaring bloke like him knew that, yet she insisted on pretending to be this one-dimensional, know-it-all character. He knew there was much more depth to her, it was only a matter of timing and strategies to get it all out of her.

"You shouldn't be out there at night. Darkness will make you do some fucked up things." He warned, ignoring her stubborn remarks.

"Like being a creep and stalking other people?" Hermione replied, earning a small laugh of shock out of him.

"Witty." He nodded, with a nod of approval "But I'm serious. It's not safe."

Hermione noticed the creases around his eyes, his eyebrows knitted together and his lips closely pursed, as if he was attempting to stop himself from saying anything more. She wondered what else he could possibly have to say, but cleared those thoughts away, before saying the only thing that remained in her mind.

"You being here is the only thing not safe."

"I'm really not the monster you make me to be…" Draco smiled, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to their conversation.

"You're worst." She insisted, still chewing on her lips in a nervous manner.

Hermione was too rattled to realize this had been the longest and most understandable conversation she had had with anyone since becoming deaf. His mouth was delicate, despite all the utter malicious activities he used it for, and it was almost like she could read his mind as he was talking, something that she didn't think was even possible, and something that didn't happen with anybody else. It was so unfair. With her best friends she had to exchange notes and put so much effort to keep up in a conversation; and with him, it was dead easy. His lips curved the words so perfectly, it almost as if she was watching a film with subtitles on… So effortless. Of course Professor McGonagall's help was playing a part in that bizarre mess, but it was something else too, and she couldn't possibly put her finger on it.

"You never would've talked to me before…" Hermione breathed out, unsure why she was bringing that up. "Without insulting me, I mean."

"You're interesting now." Malfoy admitted, separating his fingers and running them through his icy blonde hair.

"Well, I am not your little puzzle." She spit out angrily "I don't give a fuck if you're bored because you have no friends. I never liked you; that won't change."

Draco smiled innocently "I don't care."

"If you don't care, stop annoying me and leave me the hell alone." Hermione nearly yelled, temperamental and impatient, attempting to catch her breath.

Draco crossed his legs underneath the table, lightly brushing his left leg against her robes. They both stayed quiet for a while, recovering from their heated discussion and planning their next move. He was sure she couldn't see through him, he had more experience in the pretending game than she did, and he noticed that a perplexed, confused expression still weighed around her dark eyes and her swollen, chewed lips were trapped between her teeth. It was obvious she was nervous, excited maybe…

He knew he definitely was.

That impulsive decision to just approach her like that had much more meaning than what Draco was willing to admit. It wasn't all about annoying her, though it was quite a great bonus, it was more about uncovering her dark side. It was a prompt intriguing enough to make him want to talk to her, beyond the usual standards of short, offensive conversations, and it was slowly becoming more appealing and attractive.

"You know that's not what you want." He argued, rubbing the back of his neck "You want someone to care."

Hermione fell silent once more, observing his lips with great anticipation and tapping her fingers against the wooden table.

"You want people to look up to you again." Draco continued slowly "You miss people looking out for you; genuinely caring, not just because you're deaf…"

He knew he was hitting a nerve, and his insides were tingling with contentment and a sense of accomplishment. Even though he was proud, mentioning she was deaf brought an unwanted shiver to his skin, making the hair at the back of his neck stand up.

"You want them to care again; even that ginger beast doesn't give a…"

"Don't you dare speak of Ron that way!" Hermione barked at him, tears scratching her eyes.

"The point is…" Draco cleared his throat "You're alone; or at least you think you are."

"I…" she tried to talk, but decided to swallow all her words instead.

"But the truth is Granger, you're not as isolated as you think." Draco explained, his chest tightening with his inflating ego.

"You honestly think you can bully me and scare me into enjoying your company?" Hermione laughed ironically, blinking away any lasting hints of tears.

"It's eight years in the making." He smirked "If not now, never."

"Never then." She instantly replied, clicking her tongue rudely.

"I can't scare you into enjoying my company…" Draco repeated, slowly getting up from his chair "But I assure you, you will end up wanting it."

And with that, Draco left her (finally) alone. Hermione observed him straying further and further away, until he reached Madam Pince and asked for his wand back. The library doors closed in what seemed like a quick heartbeat, and just like that, he was gone, without even looking back.

She was confused, appalled, like it had all been a blurry hallucination of hers and as if he had never even been there. Her heart was beating savagely against her ribcage, with blood pumping to her ears and heat waves spreading through her whole body, making her sweat even more.

He was mad. Utterly mad. Bloody mental indeed. Nothing he said made any sense to her, even though she had understood everything he said. He was sick, surely. Hinting that he had tormented her all these years for such a superficial reason as company? She had fucking mudblood carved eternally in her skin, unforgivably engraved in her mind, all because a lonesome Malfoy needed company? It was out of this world, out of the universe. Surreal. Hermione felt her stomach twist in tight knots. There was nothing, absolutely nothing that would ever make her want to be anywhere close to him. He could try to cheat her into believing he had changed, but it was useless, she would never be able to look at him and feel anything other than disappointment and bitterness.

Somehow, the more she thought about everything that had just happened, the less sense it all made. One thing was for sure though: that was the last time she would be studying at the library. With a lightning quick decision, Hermione clumsily gathered all her belongings, and raced out of the library, giving a force smile to Madam Prince before heading out to the Gryffindor Tower.

The Common Room was warm and accommodating, exactly what Hermione needed to concentrate on finishing her Arithmancy homework. The fireplace was blazing gloriously, as students chatted and read on the sofas around it. Neither Harry nor Ron were around, though Hermione caught Neville in the corner of her eye, sitting down with a piece of parchment in front of him, eyeing it intensely, as if his life depended on it.

Realizing she was too shaken up to get any more work done, and intensely craving some normality and grounded conversations, Hermione approached Neville, looking down at his parchment with a kind expression.

"What are you writing, Neville?" She asked, arching over closer to him.

"Oh, hey Hermione!" He half-smiled, looking slightly troubled "I'm writing a letter."

"Hm…" Hermione hummed "To whom?"

"Nature." Neville nodded to himself, seemingly lost in context as well.

Hermione chuckled, before gently resting her hand on his shoulder.

"Is everything all right, Neville?"

"It's just Luna…" Neville sighed, lifting his head to look at Hermione "She says I need to be more in touch with nature."

Quite honestly, Hermione didn't get nearly half of that sentence, though she understood it regarded Luna and her… Unique views on the world. That only really added fire to her frustration: she couldn't grasp most of what her friends talked to her about, but she could comprehend everything when it came to him…

"But you and herbology." Hermione said, shaking away other, less important thoughts. "You love nature."

"Yes, but I don't understand it…" Neville admitted, a smile suddenly appearing on his face "Apparently."

"I'm sure you'll get there, Neville." She held in a laugh "By the way, have you seen Harry or Ron anywhere?"

"No, sorry." He clumsily shook his head "I was in the garden with Luna all afternoon."

"Quite dreamy." Hermione added with a smile creeping out on her face, before heading to the dormitories to get ready for dinner.

Hermione only noticed it was already December when the first snowfall enchanted Hogwarts, leaving the grounds an impeccable hue of soft white. Snowfall before Christmas was one of nature's most beautiful habits, and this year, Hermione was more grateful than ever for the pure, romantic sight that calmed and eased her soul immensely. It was nearly ten times more calming than seeing the sun rise after a rough night, and for the entirety of the first week of December, she couldn't take her eyes off of the windows, spending hours upon hours just taking it all in. It was quite foolish how much she had come to depend on the scenery around her, but it one of her mind's mechanisms to cope with all the recent changes in her life.

Despite her rather peaceful existence in that last week of the term, Ron would take time to daily bombard her with same question, over and over again. Every day he would invite her to spend Christmas at the Burrow, and every day, she would politely decline.

"My mom is already expecting you…" He would tell her, trying to guilt her into accepting his offer "She probably already made a jumper for you!"

Hermione didn't have anything against spending time at the Burrow, it was a safe place where she had spent some really great times, including that same summer, but this time she couldn't imagine herself enjoying it. The dynamic within the family had changed a lot ever since the war, and she couldn't deny the empty feeling that came with watching them live their day-to-day life.

Every time she came face to face with George, her heart nearly stopped and she swore she always noticed an extra, unidentified shadow following him around. It was heart breaking beyond words to see him alone, and just imagining the magnified sentiment his own family felt in sensing the same loneliness she did… It was enough to make her rather stay at the castle. Besides that, she always felt like most of the Weasley family was walking on eggshells around her, trying not to tick her off or accidentally make her cry. They were bursting with good intentions, she had never doubted that, but that two-way pity they felt for each other was insufferable. Of course she couldn't admit any of this to Ron, he was still mourning his loss (and unfortunately seemed no nearer to closure), so she would just stick to her usual excuses.

"I have so much homework to do." She often explained, "And I'd rather stay here and keep Hagrid company."

Though that was partially true, Hermione still enjoyed Hagrid's company greatly, there were other reasons weighing her towards spending Christmas at Hogwarts. For once, this would be the first Christmas she would live through without her parents. Not physically, she had spent many holidays at the castle without them, but the first one where she would she was actually alone. They were still out there somewhere (hopefully), without any idea they had a child, especially a magical one for that matter. Hermione had yet to convince herself again to look for them, since courage always failed her when she most needed it. It was a rather stupid insecurity, all the signs pointed towards lasting peace, but she still wasn't sure if it would be safe for them. Yes, evil and Voldemort were defeated, thank Merlin, but what if? It would be insensible to bring them back into her life for as selfish of reason as her need of comfort, and she knew that if it ever came down to it, she would never able to let them go again. Besides, even though she could charm them back into a normal state, she would still have to explain to them what happened to her, and giving them that burden just didn't seem like the most sensible and logical option.

"I'm staying, Ron." Hermione assured him on the last day of school, a few hours before him and Harry were supposed to leave. "Enjoy your Christmas, and tell your mother thank you for the lovely gifts."

"Hermione, are you really sure you would like to stay?" Harry pulled her aside, asking her once more ever so patiently "If it weren't for Ginny, I would stay as well."

"Don't be silly." She protested, bringing him in for a hug "It's your first Christmas together, officially at least. Make it special."

Harry didn't feel the need to say anything more, though his chest was heavy with guilt, as if he wasn't being a good friend by leaving her at Hogwarts. But if there was one thing he had learnt over the years, was to never force Hermione into anything. She was intelligent and independent enough to know what she wanted and what she needed.

"I'll miss you, guys." Hermione admitted, watching them leave the Common Room with their bags neatly packed (with her help, of course). "Write to me?"

"Of course." They both nodded, each giving her a hug "Try not to drown in Arithmancy…" Ron sarcastically added, before turning around and opening and sliding through the portrait to the hall.

With their departure came a slight numbness and loneliness Hermione wasn't exactly expecting. Most students seemed to have left Hogwarts to spend the holidays with their family, though a great amount of students had stayed behind as well. Many of them shared circumstances with Hermione: broken families because of the war, a slight fear of leaving the safe space of the castle grounds, and many other reasons she would never truly know. The Gryffindor common room had vacated significantly since the beginning of the term break, and it seemed like there was a lot more space to breathe and work. Most of her dormitory was empty, and that was something Hermione was actually happy about, since she usually felt guilty about waking up the other girls when she couldn't sleep, mostly when she took showers at unholy hours of the night, or when she used to sneak away to the Astronomy Tower…

Blaise moved slowly around the dungeons, packing his bag without a hurry in the world. Draco observed him from the comfort of his bed, with his ashy eyes narrowed and mouth twitching slightly.

"Can you shove off or…" Blaise ironically called his attention, shrugging with arrogance.

"I can but I won't." Malfoy nodded, unbothered and unwillingly to collaborate. "Zabini, what the hell are The Beatles?"

"A shitty, old muggle band. Completely irrelevant." He answered in a fast rhythm, before he could question Draco's intentions. "Why?"

A muggle band… Now it made sense.

"Nothing that would interest you." Draco casually said, toying with the sleeves of his robes.

"You're definitely right about that." Blaise chuckled to himself, obviously finding his own answer rather amusing.

"Running away for the holidays? Classy." The blonde Slytherin mocked, shifting positions in his bed.

"It's what happens when you actually have somewhere to go." Zabini attacked, making his clothes fly across the room and pack themselves inside his suitcase. "Enjoy your stay."

"Merry Christmas, you asshole." Draco mumbled under his breath, watching him cast another charm that had his suitcase levitating out of the dormitory, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

It was true, he really didn't have anywhere to go outside of the grounds, but it was still a low blow of Zabini to mention it.

What he noticed with the hours that followed, with a sense of disappointment, was that most Slytherin students decided to stay for Christmas, though most of them were probably not by choice. The dungeons were slightly less crowded, but it was clear the majority of them were still there.

Draco guessed it was mostly for the same reasons as him, but he didn't dare or actually have the interest to ask anyone about it. His own parents were dead and buried somewhere he'd rather forget, and he knew of a good amount of death eaters with kids at Hogwarts. And since rumor had it that nobody in that category had survived the post-war revenge attacks, it was no surprise a lot of students were now parentless like him. Besides, he also knew of a lot of people that just had never returned to Hogwarts, maybe by shame or fear. Thankfully, Draco had learnt on his own to not have either.

And even though Draco expected absolutely nothing out of that Christmas (he had never been keen on it anyway), something told him it would be a lot more interesting than the boredom he was anticipating. Especially if a certain stubborn witch had been left behind as well…