(A/N: Hey guys. Sorry this story is progressing very slowly, but hey, nobody's perfect. These last few days have been pretty bad, so please excuse the bad chapter. The main reason for this is because I had a VERY crappy week this week at work. I instruct martial arts classes and I was offering some advice to a new junior instructor because I want to instill my knowledge and wisdom into a new instructor. The little shit completely disrespected me in front of my students, my co-workers, and my family. The whole thing just escalated really quickly. I completely lost respect for that dick and I week for the future students that learn from him. It just goes to show that if you're nice to people, they'll be nice right back. It's a concept you learn in pre-school for fuck's sake. I'm going to stop bitching about this little dilemma. I realize that venting on this note is completely mad. Oh well, I just really wanted to get it off my chest. Please remember to review and message! Enjoy ^_^)

Chapter 3: Redemption

"And where the fuck have you been," drawled Mr. Granger maliciously, holding a bottle of whiskey.

"I went to choir practice, then I hung out with my friends from choir," answered Hermione.

Mr. Granger reached over to the lamp and turned on the light. "Do you know what time it is," interrogated the drunken father, folding his arms on his chest, still grasping the bottle of liquor.

The frightened witch looked at her watch, which read 11:25. "11:25," she replied nonchalantly. "It's five minutes before my curfew."

Richard took a swig of his whiskey, set the bottle on the coffee table, and stood up. "Have you been gallivanting with those wizard gits you call friends," shouted the drunken man.

Hermione looked taken aback, she hasn't heard from them in weeks. "You can't possibly think I've been sneaking around committing lewd acts with Harry and Ron. I told you I was hanging out with my friends from choir, who are girls," Hermione retorted incredulously, throwing her arms up. "You wouldn't be thinking these things if you haven't been drinking excess amounts of alcohol."

Her father grabbed the bottle of whiskey and drank from it. Hermione can see the knuckles on his hand turn white, clearly indicating he was angry.

Suddenly, Jane Granger walked down the stairs, a sleepy scowl on her face. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON DOWN HERE, IT'S 11:30 AT NIGHT," the angry mother thundered.

Both Hermione and her father looked to see Mrs. Granger on the last step of the stairs with her hands on her hips. "I caught your fucking daughter sneaking into the house," slurred Mr. Granger.

"For the record, Mum, I was home by 11:25," said the Gryffindor in a calm tone.

Her mother nodded in understanding. "Now Richard, before you do anything rash, we agreed that her curfew was to be 11:30."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's already doing something rash by binge drinking," mumbled Hermione.

"Don't test me, you little bitch," snarled Richard with a menacing expression.

As a Gryffindor, Hermione refused to act cravenly "I'm not testing you, Father. I'm merely stating a fact," said Hermione sounding very bored and tired.

"Shut up, you fucking whore," bellowed Mr. Granger. His wife walked over to him to calm him down, but it didn't work. As she was walking over to him, he threw his whiskey bottle at Hermione's head, but the bottle barely missed the bibliophile's head. The bottle shattered and the alcohol slide against the wall and onto the floor.

Hermione felt the air rush past her face when the bottle was hurled in her direction. She thanked her lucky stars that the bottle missed. Tears started to form in Hermione's eyes. As soon as Jane saw Hermione on the brink of crying she ran to her daughter and took her into an embrace.

"What the bloody hell was that all about," shouted Jane, facing Richard. "She has done nothing wrong."

"I'll tell you what she did wrong: she went to that school, she made friends with those wankers, she joined that stupid choir program, she snuck into the house as if she did something wrong, she,—"

His wife cut him off hastily. "Damn it, Richard, that is quite enough. Hermione is a good child and she never did anything wrong. She's the brightest witch of her age, she has a chance of being Head Girl at Hogwarts, she has many job opportunities after she finishes Hogwarts, and she helped her friends defeat the darkest wizard of the time. Mind you, he would've killed us if it hadn't been for Hermione and her friends," lectured Jane, stroking her daughter's thick, brunette hair. Jane looked at her daughter and noticed she had started crying silently. "Go to bed, Hermione," she said softly, decided that Hermione had enough drama for one night.

"Hermione, you are forbidden from going back to Hogwarts and the choir program."

"Dad, I'm going back to Hogwarts and to choir whether you want me to or not, I'm practically an adult" cried Hermione, stomping up the stairs and into her room.

The witch was pissed off beyond belief. She slammed her door shut, making her windows shake, and threw her Forever 21 bag near her mahogany desk. The angry Gryffindor took out her wand and cast a locking charm on her door and a silencing charm around her room. She entered her adjoining bathroom and looked into the mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and her hair was slightly mused. Just lovely, she thought.

To take her mind off the night's dramatic events she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower. Hermione turned on the hot water and rinse her aching body. She lathered her long, thick hair with shampoo and applied her body wash, closing her eyes. As the hot water, shampoo, conditioner, and body wash crawled over her skin, she couldn't help but replay the scene that happened when she got home. The things her father said echoed in her mind, making her sob more.

She couldn't wait to leave her home and never return, she would finally be free of this prison she was supposed to call home. The thought of freedom made her smile. Thinking of freedom made her think of one of her favorite singers, Bob Marley. She loved his music enough to the point where she can sing all of his songs by heart.

Old pirates, yes, they rob I;
Sold I to the merchant ships,
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit.
But my hand was made strong
By the 'and of the Almighty.
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly.
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.

Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look? Ooh!
Some say it's just a part of it:
We've got to fulfil de book.

Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.

Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our mind.
Wo! Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them-a can-a stop-a the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look?
Yes, some say it's just a part of it:
We've got to fulfill the book.
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever had:
Redemption songs -
All I ever had:
Redemption songs:
These songs of freedom,
Songs of freedom.

Hermione felt the stress melt away as she was singing in the shower. After getting out of the shower, the seventeen-year-old girl dried herself off and performed a drying spell on her hair, leaving it soft and wavy without frizz. Then she brushed her teeth and went to bed, hoping that Ginny would reply to her letter soon.

A loud thud came from the window, waking up the sleepy Gryffindor. Groggily, Hermione got out of her bed and walked over to the window. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she opened the window and looked around. Errol, the Weasely's family owl, fluttered into Hermione's room, landing on her desk.

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the old, clumsy owl. "Bloody bird, how are you still alive," she giggled.

Errol dropped the letter onto Hermione's desk and gently nipped at her hand. She stroked the owl's head and gave him an owl treat. With that, the bird flew out of Hermione's room back to the Burrow.

She picked up the letter and opened it. Dried up spots of purple blotches were spread out on the parchment. The inquisitive girl looked at the parchment puzzled, but she disregarded it and read the letter.

Dear Hermione,

I'm glad you wrote to me, things at the Burrow are crazy. Every day there's an explosion coming from some part of the house because of the bloody twins. Like right now, I was writing this letter while the twins were testing some new product of theirs. Well you can guess how that ended. I'm also starting to have feelings for Harry. I'm trying to tell Harry how I feel, but Ron and the twins keep getting in my business about it. I swear to Merlin if they continue pissing me off, they'll be on the receiving end of my famous Bat Boogey Hex. About your choir program, I'm glad you found something that you love doing. It's about time you ditched the books. When I told everyone about your newfound hobby, they thought I was loony. Harry and Ron said and I quote, "That doesn't sound like the Hermione we know." Nevertheless, we are all happy for you. I'm pleased to say that everyone can attend your performance and I promise Fred and George will be on their best behavior. We are very excited to seeing you perform. Well, I have to wrap up this letter, I'm going to play Quidditch in the yard with Harry and my brothers. I'll see you at the concert. Let me know the time and where it is. Talk to you soon!

Love,

Ginny

Tears formed in Hermione's eyes as she read her best friend's letter, she was excited to be seeing her friends again. The brunette witch chose to write back to her best friend at a later time. Today, she planned on seeing her director and practicing her song.

Green flames spewed out from Draco's fireplace and Blaise stepped out of the fireplace brushing the debris off of his expensive clothes. Draco looked up from his desk and turned around to see Blaise smiling at him.

The blond stood up and greeted his friend. "Blaise, my good friend. What brings you here," asked Draco, stretching his arms out for a quick hug. The two wizards shared a quick hug.

"Well, Dray, I've been talking to one of my stepsisters, Giselle. You remember her?"

"No, but I'm guessing she's a daughter of one of your mother's ex-husbands," guess Draco looking puzzled.

"Yeah, you're right. Well, she and I are pretty close and she invited me to her choir concert on August 17th. Would you like to come with me," he asked Draco.

Draco looked apprehensive about going to a choir concert in the muggle world. If he did end up going, he wouldn't know how to act. The pureblood wizard was really terrified of embarrassing himself in an unfamiliar world. "I don't know, Blaise. I've never been in the muggle world. What if I make a fool of myself? What if I expose the wizarding world? What if -"

Blaise interrupted his friend's hysterics and shouted, "Blimey, Draco, calm the fuck down. You're just going to a concert, you won't be doing much socializing. We're pretty much just sitting on our arses most of the time," said Blaise.

"Still, I'm not so sure if I should go."

"Think about it, there's going to be a bunch of hot girls in stunning dresses singing really awesome songs," added Blaise with a big grin that inflated his cheekbones.

Malfoy's head jerked towards his best mate after his last statement. He could care less if there were going to be hot girls present, he only cared about the singing. Ever since he started liking Hermione he stopped trying to bed other girls. Starting in his 5th year, he would be casually snogging his female housemates and by the time he was in his 6th year he would be fooling around with them, which escalated quickly into shagging. His activities in the bedroom deemed him the Slytherin Sex God and he was proud of his reputation. The fact that there were going to be hot girls didn't faze him.

Lately, he started listening to muggle music and he found himself enjoying it immensely, however, he did despise some of the muggle artists. Draco thought about Blaise's offer and came to a decision. "Okay, Blaise. I'll go with you, but if I hear any of that Justin Bieber shit, I'm leaving," Draco stated. "I swear to God, that Bieber music pisses me off. Come to think of it, he's just an arrogant douche."

Blaise fell to the floor laughing uncontrollably because he knew it was true. When he finally regained the ability to breathe Blaise stood up with a tear-streaked face. "Gee, that sounds like someone I know," Blaise joked, earning a death glare from his friend. "Anyway, I'm happy you're going with me. The concert starts at seven at night. I'll pick you up using the Floo network," informed Zabini. "Well, I have to get home. See you later, mate."

"Bye, Blaise. Thanks for the invite," said Draco. He expected his best friend to step into the fireplace and use the Floo but was surprised to see him apparate away. Guess he was tired of ruining his clothes after using the Floo, Draco thought.

When Draco was alone, he painted a picture of Hermione in his mind, memorizing her every detail from her cute button nose to her plump cheekbones. The feature he loved the most was her chocolate brown eyes. Letting his crush inspire him, he picked up his guitar and started composing his own riffs.

"Good work today, Hermione, and may I say that this song accurately depicts your personality and the way you look at life. Remember, use your diaphragm when you belt. I'll see you tomorrow," said the choir director beaming. The older woman collected her sheet music off of the piano, placed it in her bag, and walked out of the room.

Hermione smiled at the compliment her choir director gave. She walked around the choir room humming the song she had been rehearsing before she left.

Once she got home, she looked around the house and hollered, "Is anyone home," she blurted. Hermione was met with the sounds of her own voice bouncing off of the walls. Sighing in relief, she walked up the stairs and into her room. She shut her door and walked to her desk, remember that she had to write to Ginny.

Dear Ginny,

I'm glad everyone is going to be able to go to the concert. It starts at 7 pm at the Eaves Performing Arts Center. About the whole Harry ordeal, I think the best way to deal with this situation is to be patient and find a better time to tell Harry, preferably when we're back at Hogwarts. With a house full of protective brothers, it's going to be impossible for you two to be alone. I hope my advice helps a little bit. Before I forget, if you guys want good seats at the concert I suggest you guys arrive early. I can't wait for you guys to see the performance. Talk to you soon!

Love,

Hermione

After proofreading her letter, she called her owl. "Zelda, can you take this to Ginny at the Burrow, please," Hermione inquired.

The owl hooted in response and flew away without taking the treat Hermione offered her. She shrugged and put the treat back into its container.

"Well since I have all this free time, maybe I should relax before practicing," she said aloud. Hermione put on her pajamas, turned on the TV, and put in one of her favorite movies into her DVD player.

The sounds of Draco's guitar drifted in the halls of Malfoy Manor. Narcissa Malfoy loved the music her son makes. Smiling, she got up from a chair in the library and started walking towards her son's bedroom.

A knock interrupted Draco's concentration on his music. He stopped abruptly when his mother entered his room.

"Hello, darling," greeted Narcissa. Mrs. Malfoy paced to the spot next to Draco on his bed and sat down. "Your music sounds lovely."

Draco looked up at his mother and grinned, "Thank you, mum," he responded, continuing to play the guitar.

"Well, I just wanted to hear my favorite son play his guitar. I'll get going now. I don't want to bother you. Goodbye," Narcissa spoke softly getting up from the bed. She was a step away from the doorknob when Draco called to her.

"Wait, Mum. There's something I want to ask you," addressing his mother. "Were you furious at Aunt Andromeda for marrying a muggleborn wizard?" Now that Voldemort is dead and his father is in Azkaban he wanted to get his mother's opinion on the matter. Never in Narcissa's life was she ever allowed to voice her opinion if it differed from the ones Lucius had.

She sat down on the spot she left previously and voiced her explanation. "I was actually very happy for Andromeda despite my upbringing to despise a marriage between a pureblood and a muggleborn," said Narcissa tranquilly with a grin on her face. Then a look of moroseness crept up on her fair complexion. "But I had to pretend I did not approve of it because your Aunt Bellatrix absolutely hated the idea of it."

Draco, being the smart young man that he is, put two and two together. "Because you looked up to Aunt Bella," Draco finished.

His mother confirmed his interpretation by nodding. "Even when I started dating your father I kept my opinions on pureblood-muggleborn relationships. When I first saw him, I knew he was a dark wizard. For that reason, I've erected a façade of a pureblood supremacist," she explained, knitting her eyebrows together. "I believe marriage should be shared by two people who are in love, not to keep a bloodline clean and pure. Was there any particular reason for asking, Draco?"

Draco tried to keep a casual look on his face but he could help but smile when he thought of a certain brunette Gryffindor. "Just wondering," replied Draco with the Malfoy smirk.

Narcissa established eye contact with Draco and shot a knowing glance at him indicating that she saw through his act. She giggled and began stroking her son's silky, blond hair. "Draco, darling, you know I love you, right," she spoke softly. He nodded without breaking eye contact. "So tell me what's on your mind?"

Even though his mother told him that she did not detest muggleborns, the Slytherin Prince still worried about his mother's opinion. "I like a muggleborn, mother. I hope you are willing to overlook that," he confessed with utmost confidence. His steel grey eyes gleamed with complete admiration towards Hermione, "She's very intelligent, selfless, witty, valiant, considerate, and very, very beautiful." Draco sighed looking up at the empty space near his ceiling. A dopey grin crept up on his face making it very obvious to his mother that he was drunk on love.

If Narcissa didn't know any better she would think that someone slipped him a very powerful love potion. She shook her head laughing while reminiscing the feeling of young love. "It sounds to me that you are very smitten with this girl," she said smiling. "Is this girl, by any chance, Hermione Granger," she asked with the prettiest, most innocent smile.

Draco woke up from his fool's paradise and let his mouth hang open in shock. "How did you know, mother," he enjoined.

"You described her as being intelligent, witty, and valiant. Draco, those were dead giveaways," Narcissa laughed as its heartiness filled Draco's room and making Draco smile. Then her smile faltered as if she looked hurt. "Were you afraid of my reaction towards Ms. Granger?"

Draco did not respond, he just sat next to his mother fixing his disconsolate glare towards the floor.

"I understand that you were worried about my opinion, but you have to realize that blood purity doesn't matter to me. I'm not Lucius. The shit that he believed in landed him a life sentence in Azkaban.," Narcissa sneered at the mention of her husband's name. Her face morphed into disgust and promptly stuck her nose slightly upward, making it clear that she despised being in love with a sadistic, cold-hearted bastard like Lucius. "Now that that bastard is rotting in that god-forsaken place, I can voice my opinions."

The youngest Malfoy looked up from the floor, shocked to hear those heinous words spewing out of his sweet mother's mouth, but quickly concluded that the bastard deserved what he got. Still, he couldn't get over how she could've said those words about his despite seeing how in love they were in the past. "You're right, Mum. Just to be sure, you do approve, right," he inquired with a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Yes, I approve. Who better than to fall in love with than the beautiful, Hermione Granger? You know, she would make a lovely Lady Malfoy someday," added Narcissa with the famous Malfoy smirk.

"Slow down, Mum, she doesn't even know I feel this way about her. I do plan on telling her when we get back to Hogwarts. To be honest, I'm not even sure she'll even give me the time of day."

"Worry about that when the time comes. I would start by writing to her, but sign it as 'anonymous,' girls like it when a mystery man is taking the time to admire her from afar," his mother advised.

Hearing his mother's advice made Draco feel a bit awkward. Draco gave his mom an awkward smile and began to speak, "Thanks, Mum, I'll make a note of that. I should get to bed. I'm spending the next four day with Blaise in Italy."

"Alright, Draco. I'm glad we talked about this. Be safe and have a good trip. Good night and I love you," cooed Narcissa, kissing her son on the forehead.

He leaned into his mother's goodnight kiss, and softly spoke, "I will be safe, I promise. Good night and I love you, too."

As soon as his mother left, he took off his T-shirt and pants, leaving him clad in his boxers. He padded over to his bathroom and brushed his teeth. Then he marched to his bed and slipped his lower body into the green and silver silk blanket, leaving his perfectly chiseled abs and pecks exposed, and drifted off to sleep.