Chapter 8

"You're kidding?" Ginny all but squealed. It was the afternoon after the…incident. Both Hermione and Ginny had finished their classes for that day, so the two best friends retreated to Hermione's room, where Hermione had proceeded to tell Ginny what happened the previous night.

"Why would I lie about something like this?" Hermione reasoned.

"It's just," Ginny began, "You wouldn't be the first."

"What do you mean?"

"You have heard the rumours haven't you?"

"Ginny, please, you of all people know gossip is not an essential part of my life."

"I do! But surely you've heard about the little… shall we say, 'fan-club' he's acquired over the years?"

Hermione groaned. This 'fan-club' had been one of many major headaches during her first weeks with Draco. When the two of them had been announced as Heads at the welcoming banquet, she had received several jealous glares from roughly three quarters of the female population at Hogwarts. During the day she would pass gossiping girls, every one of them openly wondering if she and sunken her claws into their precious blonde-haired baby yet. It seemed that even though he was an ex-Death Eater, his good looks were enough for him to remain one of the most wanted boys in school.

And there was the second thing that bothered Hermione. Did all of Draco's admirers have a bad-boy fixation, or were they all completely forgetting that he and his family were some of the most devoted followers of the fucking Dark Lord? Whilst it was true that she in particular may be slightly biased, she could never see the appeal of having a boyfriend whose past hobby was the Dark Arts.

"I'll take that as a yes." Ginny said, breaking Hermione's train of thought. "Well according to Parvati-

"Doesn't it bother them..." Hermione questioned, interrupting Ginny's gossiping, "that Draco used to be a Death Eater? Doesn't it bother any of them, that he may have had a hand in harming, or potentially killing their loved ones?" She glanced over at Ginny, who had gone deadly quiet, "It's just… it's hard for me to wrap my head around how that could appeal to someone."

Silence fell upon the two best friends, like powdery snow on the ground in winter. Despite the time that had passed, the events on the war still weighed heavily on Hermione's mind, as they rightfully should. Not knowing what else to do, Ginny reached over and squeezed Hermione's hand in a comforting gesture. Despite her sense of hesitation, Ginny decided to voice her thoughts…

"Y'know, Mione…" she started, prompting Hermione to look at her once more, "Whilst I completely, do not blame you at all for doing so… I think you're really hurting yourself, by harbouring so much hate for Draco." Ignoring Hermione's confused gaze, she continued, "Remember how angry, and how bitter I was for ages after Fred had died? Well, one night Harry caught me in the middle of one of my breakdowns. He told me that the one way I could ease the pain, to not hurt so much, was to forgive. I thought he was crazy at first, but then he explained it to me. He told me that for so long he was so angry at Voldemort for taking his parents away, so angry that sometimes, he felt his rage would consume him. But at one point or another, he couldn't exactly remember when, he forgave him. He forgave Voldemort, for something so monstrous, because he realised that holding on to such negative feelings, was another way of letting Voldemort win. So I forgave whoever took Fred from me, because I know that he wouldn't want me to live the rest of my life being angry at something I can't undo." Feeling her eyes sting, she looked away from Hermione's awed gaze, "I know, that what Draco did was absolutely horrid, and inexcusable, but I think," she looked back, "You should forgive him, for your own sake."

Now it was Hermione's turn to look away, "I..I'm not sure if it's that easy, Ginny."

"I never said it was easy," Ginny squeezed her hand again, "Just that it could help with whatever you've got going on in your head."

The two girls sat in an amicable silence, as they listened to the sounds of the late afternoon filter in through Hermione's open window. Still stunned by Ginny's advice, all Hermione could do was look down at their inter-locked hands and wonder when the naive, clumsy girl who was obsessed with her best friend transformed into the scarred but amazing woman who sat beside her today.

"And remember," Ginny spoke softly, as if afraid to shatter the peaceful atmosphere surrounding them, "The Malfoys became neutral, so in the end, they weren't fighting against us..." she trailed off when Hermione snorted inelegantly.

"They weren't exactly fighting for our side either," she said, her tone icy. "And besides, isn't that just a rumour? How do we know that isn't something Lucius Malfoy just said to try and reduce his sentence?"

"Well, the only one who can really find out the truth is you." replied Ginny, gently slipping her hand out of Hermione's grasp. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out what she was implying. As Hermione was coming up with a reasonable excuse as to why what Ginny was suggesting was an extremely bad idea, both of them heard the common room door open and close.

"Is that the time?" Ginny asked, glancing at a non-existent watch on her wrist, "I best be off."

Before Hermione could grab her, Ginny had snatched up her bag and zipped out her bedroom. A few seconds later, Hermione heard the common room door slam shut. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Hermione stood and walked into the common room. There she found Draco sitting in one of the chairs that surrounded the big oak table that was used for studying, in the middle of writing an essay. "She seemed in a hurry." He said without looking up.

"Yeah." replied Hermione absently. Picking up a book, she walked over to the table and sat in the chair opposite Draco. As she was flicking through the pages, she went over Ginny's words in her head. During her time with Draco, she found it had become an unspoken rule that they never discuss the events of the war, probably because they were both afraid of revealing their demons (or any potential weaknesses) to one another. However, Hermione reluctantly admitted to herself that the only way the two of them were going to get through the year without stabbing each other in their sleep, was to have a… dare she say it… heart-to-heart talk about the war, so to speak. She began to hum a tune, knowing that, whilst this would annoy Draco to no end, it would get his attention. Sure enough, after a couple of seconds…

"Is there a reason why you're disturbing me?" he snapped, looking up at her with an angry glare. The true reason Draco hated this particular habit of Hermione's was because it reminded him of Stella, who also happened to hum while she read a book.

"Not particularly," she said, "I was just thinking about the conversation Ginny and I were having before you came in."

The scratching of quill against parchment told Hermione he'd returned to his essay. "I'm sure it was absolutely riveting."

"It was." She closed her book with more force than necessary. "It was about the war."

A colourful curse drew Hermione's eyes to Draco, seeing the black streak of ink that now marred his parchment. She wasn't sure if it was the noise she'd made when closing her book, or her statement that had caused such a reaction. The thunderous glare he sent her when he looked up gave her her answer. His voice when he spoke reminded her of how he used to speak to her in second year, slowly and condescendingly, like an impatient adult to a mentally deficient teenager. "Oh really? Well goodness, that is riveting."

Hermione steeled her gaze, "Indeed. We were wondering exactly how much sex appeal an ex-Death Eater has, because if you ask me..." she sucked in air through her teeth, matching his patronizing attitude, "I don't see any." Oh boy, if looks could kill… she'd be more than six feet under by now. Suppressing the urge to shrink back into her chair, she continued. "Tell me Malfoy," resting her head on her right hand, she sent him a sickly sweet smile, "How do you do it? What's your secret?"

He crossed his arms across his chest, "I've got no idea what you mean."

"Then let me spell out for you. How does one with a history such as yours still retain such popularity with the ladies? I'm curious."

"I believe that is none of your business." he drawled.

I believe the term is none of your business.

Hermione was momentarily stumped. She had heard that phrase before. In the exact same tone. She mentally slapped herself to bring her back to the situation at hand.

"It's the bad-boy thing isn't it? It's something you obviously manipulate in your favour."

He stood up, probably opting to intimidate her with his height, "Why do you care about the female attention I get anyway?" A smirk stretched across his face, "Don't tell me your jealous..."

"As if," she scoffed, standing up as well and slamming her palms against the table, "I just don't get why so many girls are falling over each other to have an ex-Death Eater as a boyfriend."

"Okay first of all," Draco held up two fingers, and ticked off one, "The only girls I have ever dated are Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, and Pansy. And secondly," he ticked off the second, "My family went neutral halfway through the war, which..."

"Which was the coward's way out!" Hermione interrupted, "You obviously saw that Voldemort was a madman, enough to make you turn neutral, but what I don't get is why you didn't switch sides completely like anyone else would have..."

"No you don't get it!" Draco yelled directly in her face, his patience completely shattered, "You don't get that being a Pureblood and deliberately going against the Dark Lord was just as bad, if not worse than being a Mudblood like you!"

Hermione swallowed her gasp as the two of them stood inches apart, both visibly trembling with anger. It shouldn't have shocked her, what he'd just called her, but the truth is that in the whole time they'd lived together, no matter how severe their arguments became, he'd never once stooped that low. She was surprised to find herself fighting back tears.

Draco turned on his heel and stalked out the common room door, taking his homework and his vile comment with him. Even after the door had closed with a resonating click, Hermione simply stood there, shaking from head to toe.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," she spat to the empty air.