Saturday, 27 March 1999
The Great Hall was packed, which was rather unusual this early on a Saturday. Hermione understood why today was an exception, though. It was obvious that the weather was going to be nice today, and with most students going home for the Easter holidays tomorrow, everyone who was old enough to go wanted to make the most of today by spending it with their friends in Hogsmeade.
Knowing it was going to be crowded in the village, however, worked the opposite way for Hermione; it made her rather nervous. It wasn't that she had expected or even planned to be able to keep her Hogsmeade outing with Malfoy a secret—she wasn't that naïve—but she also didn't want to have to explain to everyone they'd encounter why she had chosen to voluntarily spend time with the Head Boy after they had butted heads for most of the year.
She sighed and set down her mug of tea. "Why in the world am I going out to Hogsmeade with someone that I, even in my own head, refer to by his last name?"
"Because you're insane, probably," Ginny replied as soon as she had swallowed her mouthful of oatmeal. "I still don't understand why you would want to do this. I know Malfoy is trying to be better—we can all see that—but I still don't get why you want to go on a date with him. There is a lot of history there."
"Well, first of all, Malfoy willingly wants to spend time with me, a Muggleborn," Hermione began. "So I figured that if we have a good time, that has to reinforce that the prejudice he was raised with is nonsense, doesn't it?"
Ginny gave her a non-committal shrug in response.
"And second of all," Hermione sighed again and grimaced a little, "I'm fairly sure that the only reason there is some attraction between us is because we have been forced to spend so much time with each other this year right after such a traumatic time. He started to lean on me after Parkinson left, and I have to admit that he helped me as well."
"That sounds pretty unhealthy," Ginny supplied, sounding sceptical. "And a little like codependency."
Hermione nodded. "I don't disagree. That's why I wanted us to spend some time together outside our Head student duties. To see if the tension we feel is still there if we're not forced together but choose to spend time together."
The younger redhead was quiet for a while as she finished eating her bowl of oatmeal. When she put her spoon down and glanced up, she had a thoughtful frown on her brows. "Will you be disappointed if Malfoy doesn't end up wanting to continue spending time with you?"
The question came out soft and slightly hesitant, and Hermione knew Ginny was really trying to be as tactful as she could, even though she knew her friend would prefer if she and Malfoy kept their interactions strictly professional. As much as Malfoy had proven to be working hard on himself, Ginny was still loyal to the dislike she had always felt. Perhaps it was a Gryffindor versus Slytherin thing, but it could also be loyalty toward Harry and Ron's utter dislike of Malfoy. Whatever it was, Hermione understood. After all, she still felt kind of guilty about what had happened between her and the Head Boy because of her friendships with Harry and Ron.
"I don't know," she finally answered honestly. "I haven't really thought that far ahead yet."
Ginny laughed. "That's a first."
Not long after that, Jennifer and Thelma joined them and the conversation moved away from Malfoy. When breakfast was almost over, Hermione's eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table, quickly finding the blond head of hair she was looking for.
Malfoy sat in his usual seat, and was—as usual—accompanied by Nott and Greengrass. Things seemed tense between them, and Hermione felt a pang of guilt. As much as Ginny disliked Malfoy, she had been nothing but supportive, even if she didn't understand. The pureblood Slytherin culture was much different, and reputations seemed the highest priority. She hoped Malfoy's friends weren't giving him too hard a time.
"Well, Hermione, have fun? Or… good luck?" Ginny rose from the bench, a deep crease between her eyebrows. "I'm not sure what to wish you, but if you need to escape, we'll either be in Zonko's or in Hog's Head."
"Hog's Head?" Hermione frowned up at her friend.
Ginny grinned. "I just really like Aberforth. He's so grumpy, but once you get him talking, he has the best stories. Plus, his butterbeer is two Sickles cheaper than at the Three Broomsticks'."
"Probably because Abe purchased his stock last century," Thelma said, smirking.
The four of them laughed and moved toward the entrance of the Great Hall. Hermione slowed down a little when she saw Malfoy approach from the corner of her eye, and they reached the double doors at the same time.
Nott curled his lip in a sneer, gave them both a once-over and disappeared from the Great Hall without slowing down. Greengrass briefly studied Malfoy with one raised eyebrow before following after Nott, subtly shaking her head as she left.
"Hi," Hermione greeted him softly, suddenly feeling nervous.
"Hello," Malfoy replied awkwardly. "I still have to get my cloak. What time did you want to leave?"
"We can wait until everyone else has left?"
The blond raised his gaze and scanned the Entrance Hall over the top of her head. "Most people have already queued up." He found her eyes again. "Let's check with Filch if there are any particularities and then take the last carriage, okay?"
She couldn't help it. The fact that he was actually taking his Head Boy duties seriously made her smile and she couldn't stop. "That sounds good," she forced herself to say. "I'll get my own cloak and I'll meet you back here in fifteen?"
Malfoy gave her a nod and disappeared down the stairs to the dungeons, while Hermione made for the Marble Staircase, where Ginny was kindly waiting for her. Together they climbed their way up to the seventh floor and into the Gryffindor Tower.
Atop the spiral staircase, Hermione wished her younger friend a fun day before entering her own dormitory. None of her dorm mates were there, thankfully, meaning she could get her cloak and quickly check if her hair wasn't overly bushy without prying questions. When almost ten minutes had passed—and her hair still looked exactly the same as before—she exited her dorm and started making her way downstairs again.
There was no denying it: she was nervous. She had spent countless hours with Malfoy this year, and despite their history she mostly didn't mind being around him anymore. It made no sense to be nervous. They had even kissed. Twice. It just wasn't logical that she would be nervous now, after all they had been through this year.
But she knew that she wasn't really nervous about spending time with Malfoy. He had made it clear that he wanted this; there was no need to doubt that now. No, she was nervous about what it would mean if they ended up liking spending time together, without the cover of Head student duties. Spending time as a choice. Without anything forcing them.
And then there was that tiny voice in the back of her mind that wanted to know how she would feel if they didn't like spending time together. As a choice. Without being forced. That was the way it had been for seven years; it shouldn't be a big deal if that was the case. But the mere presence of that little voice told her that it would be a big deal to her. It would be disappointing in the first place, but it might also hurt a little.
She didn't mind being disliked because of her blood status, but being rejected for who she was as a person… no, that would always sting, especially now that they had invested so much time and energy in each other.
Before she knew it she was back in the Entrance Hall. The queue of students had considerably shortened, and Malfoy stood next to Filch, who checked every permission form with the utmost suspicion. She made her way over to them, buttoning her cloak as she moved, and smiled at Malfoy when she reached him.
"Any particularities?"
The blond shook his head. "Not unless you count this particular bad-tempered madman," he muttered, nodding in Filch's direction. They glanced at each other—both of them struggling to hide their smile—before quickly looking away again to avoid laughing at the grumpy caretaker, lest he'd find a reason to invoke their permission to visit the village.
Roughly fifteen minutes later, every student who had queued up had left for Hogsmeade Village, and after quickly having consulted with Filch, Hermione followed Malfoy out of the castle and onto the Hogwarts grounds, toward the Thestral-drawn carriages.
Once they sat next to each other on the musty bench inside the last carriage, Hermione struggled to think of something to talk about. She had tried to get Malfoy to open up several times over the past few months, but he had shut her down every time, getting progressively meaner with each attempt. The only time they seemed to get along was right after a fight, and she wasn't planning on arguing now, just so they could act humanly toward each other afterwards.
"Any interesting plans for the Easter holidays?" she finally decided to ask, the words coming out stiff and awkward.
Malfoy turned his head and raised an eyebrow, staring at her in silence for a moment. "Did you know I once went on a date with Millicent Bulstrode?" he then drawled, and Hermione felt her eyes widen with utter surprise. She didn't even care that he flat out switched subjects without even bothering to answer her question.
"Bulstrode? Really?"
The corners of his mouth twitched, betraying that he was amused by her shock. "Yes. During the summer before fourth year. Our mothers are friends and they had arranged it. And as horrible as that date was, it still wasn't as awkward as this one."
Hermione felt her cheeks heat up from embarrassment. At least she was trying to break the silence. Still, she wasn't going to let him disconcert her. She lifted her chin and sent him a mild glare. "We haven't even started our date yet," she said a little snobbishly. "It's far too early to judge, don't you think?"
Malfoy smirked. "You're too easy to tease."
"We're drifting from the subject, though." She gave him a playful shove with her elbow. "Tell me more about your date with Bulstrode."
"Absolutely not," he said immediately, but there was a vague hint of laughter in his voice. "It was once and never again, and she hasn't spoken a word to me since."
Though they were quiet for the remainder of the carriage ride, the metaphorical ice was broken after that, and the silence was no longer awkward. They arrived in Hogsmeade Village a little later and climbed out of the carriage when they had reached the Main Street.
Hermione sighed happily, glad to be back in the village. She always enjoyed the weekend trips, and she was determined to make the most of today, even with her strange company. "It's perhaps a bit early for the pubs," she said, thinking aloud, glancing up at Malfoy. "Is there anywhere you'd like to go?"
He didn't immediately respond and instead seemed to take in the view of the picturesque little village for a moment. Hermione thought she saw his eyes linger on The Three Broomsticks Inn before finally slowly turning toward her. She felt a little guilty for bringing up the pubs now, having forgotten about the fact that Malfoy was banned from the popular pub.
"How about we peruse the new collection at Tomes and Scrolls for a while?" He seemed to hesitate briefly, but then he smirked. "I wanted to say that I'd like to see what books you like, but I forgot I was talking to you. As long as there are pages with words you'll devour anything, won't you?"
She snorted, and Malfoy cocked his head to the side. "How many books a day does a full-grown know-it-all need to sustain themselves? I imagine it's comparable to panda bears and bamboo?"
Before even registering it consciously, Hermione genuinely laughed. Malfoy seemed to observe her enjoyment with pride, and for the first time since waking up this morning she wasn't worried at all about today anymore. In fact, she daresay they were up to a good start.
As they leisurely made their way over to the bookshop, Malfoy seemed to loosen up a little. He asked her if she was looking for any books in particular and listened seemingly attentively while she talked about this Charms book that was recently released, which she had forgotten to pre-order but hoped to be able to obtain today.
Once they reached the bookshop, Malfoy opened the door and let her enter first. Hermione smiled at him and made her way inside, greeting the witch behind the counter before glancing around and inhaling deeply. She loved the smell of new parchment so much.
Tomes and Scrolls was a relatively small bookshop. The newly-released books were all the way in the front, while the rest of the books took up the remainder of the shop. Hermione took it all in and turned her head to look at Malfoy.
"I'm going to see if they have Groundbreaking Developments in Charms. Are you looking for anything in particular?"
He shook his head. "No, I'm just going to browse. Find me when you're done, okay?"
She watched him move to the back of the shop and then focused her attention on the latest releases. There were so many interesting new books, and Hermione quickly lost herself, admiring beautiful covers and captivating summaries. Unfortunately, the Charms book she was looking for was already sold out, and the witch behind the counter told her it would be at least another few weeks until they were able to restock.
Hermione moved on to the back of the shop, her eyes on the tall shelves at all times, searching for fascinating titles and beautiful covers. After browsing for some time, she realised she had probably been occupied for quite a while. She turned, searching for Malfoy's blond head, expecting him in a corner of the shop and away from judgemental stares. She found him immediately, though not at all where she expected.
Malfoy sat in a comfortable leather chair, in the lounge area roughly in the middle of the shop. He seemed rather relaxed, his head leaning on one of his hands. His eyes were fixed on her, and Hermione suddenly felt shy. Had he been watching her this whole time?
"Hey," she greeted him softly after having made her way over to where he was sitting. "Have you found any new books?"
He shook his head without taking his eyes off her. "I haven't really browsed."
"Then what—" Hermione began, but then Malfoy lifted one of the corners of his mouth in a smile, and she couldn't help but fall silent.
"You have been browsing for nearly forty minutes," he told her. "And you've been smiling the whole time. It's… nice."
Her cheeks began to burn, and she knew she must be blushing furiously. "You haven't really been watching me for nearly forty minutes, have you?"
The look on his face lightened up as his half-smile widened, and Hermione was once again struck by how much Malfoy looked like an entirely different person than the bully she had known for seven years, just because of that smile. She really liked this look.
"Are you ready to pay for your book and go?" he asked her instead of answering her question.
"Oh, no," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "It's sold out. They won't have it for another few weeks. I placed an order."
Malfoy gave her a slow nod and then rose from his seat. "Shall we go, then?"
They made their way outside and Hermione glanced around the village once again. She didn't know where they could go. It was so natural to just move toward The Three Broomsticks, but with Malfoy by her side, she knew she wouldn't be welcome.
They were almost back on the Main Street when Malfoy slowed down. Hermione turned back, raising her eyebrows in a questioning frown. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then he took a step backwards. "I realised I forgot something. Give me five minutes, I'll be right back." With those words he spun around and disappeared around the corner.
Hermione blinked her eyes. A small, quiet voice in the back of her mind whispered that he had abandoned her here; that he wasn't going to come back, but she knew that was utter nonsense. If he had wanted to leave, he could have done that at any point during the time she was occupied in the bookshop.
Her eyes found The Three Broomsticks again. She didn't know why, but she felt a very strong pull to spend time there today. She had spent so many carefree moments there with Harry and Ron and Ginny… She longed for that.
She didn't want to presume she knew what went on in Malfoy's head, but she thought she had seen the same longing in his eyes. It must be rough to not be allowed to go to the most popular pub along with everyone else. Of course, she completely understood Madam Rosmerta's anger. Having your free will taken from you and being made an accessory to attempted murders without even being aware of it… Anyone in their right mind would be furious.
A tall shadow fell over her. "That was at least ten minutes instead of five," Hermione teased as she looked up.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow and moved closer, until he had to look almost straight down his nose to be able to see her. She stubbornly maintained eye-contact, even though her heartbeat steadily picked up the closer he got.
"Careful, Granger," he murmured, though it was clear from the look in his eyes that he was amused. "There's only so much I can overlook before I need to argue with you again."
"Then we should quickly move inside somewhere and have a drink," Hermione answered easily. "Where would you like to go?" Malfoy's eyes immediately shot up to The Three Broomsticks again, and Hermione felt somewhat pleased with herself that she had read him right. She straightened up a little and cleared her throat. "Have you… have you spoken to her at all since sixth year?" she murmured carefully, not wanting to set him off.
"No," he said at once, never taking his eyes off the popular pub. "Of course not."
Hermione took a deep breath, weighing her next question against the possible blowback. "Would you be willing to… to apologise to her if it meant you could visit The Three Broomsticks again?"
He seemed to freeze up completely, and Hermione felt her heart pound violently in her chest; heard it in her ears. This was the sort of suggestion he had always cruelly punished her for this year. She thought they had moved past that, but still, this was Draco Malfoy. Even though they had gotten to know each other a lot better over the past few months, she still wasn't sure she actually knew him. Perhaps she had miscalculated how well she understood him…
"I don't expect that an apology will be enough."
His voice was soft and a little unsure, and Hermione cocked her head a little to the side as she studied his face. Though his voice gave him away, his poker face was truly masterful; she couldn't read a single emotion on his features. She couldn't even tell if he was angry.
"It might not be," she agreed softly.
Malfoy slowly turned his head back to her and stared in her eyes for a moment. Just when Hermione wondered what was happening inside his head, he opened his mouth. "Will you go with me?"
His newfound willingness to be vulnerable still took her aback, but at the same time Hermione couldn't help but feel flattered that he felt comfortable enough to open up around her. She also admired that he apparently really felt strongly about what he had done during sixth year, and that he was willing to try to make amends. She knew there had to be an element of self-gain involved, but still, he was doing the right thing.
She nodded her head. "I will."
As soon as she had spoken, Malfoy began moving toward The Three Broomsticks. He briefly paused at the door, seemingly gathering his courage, and then resolutely stepped over the threshold. Once inside the pub, Hermione had to pick up her pace to make sure she stayed close behind him as they made their way around the tables, toward the bar.
Madam Rosmerta stood behind it, waving her wand at a cloth that floated in the air, polishing a glass. When Malfoy halted next to the bar, the glass abruptly fell down a few inches, but the female barkeep quickly recovered.
"You know you aren't welcome here," she spat out coldly, glaring Malfoy up and down with disgust. "Leave. Now."
Malfoy seemed to falter for a moment. When Hermione stepped closer, he glanced at her for a second before taking a deep breath and turning back to face Madam Rosmerta, who pointedly looked away from them.
"I know that there are no excuses," Malfoy began in a surprisingly steady voice, and the blonde woman slowed her movements, seemingly taken aback by his words. "The Imperius Curse is labelled unforgivable, so I don't expect you to ever grant me forgiveness for what I did to you."
He bowed his head just when Madam Rosmerta turned her head in his direction. There was a deep frown on her brows, but the cold glare had left her eyes, and Hermione held her breath, hopeful that Malfoy's words struck the right chord.
"I'm sorry for using you as a puppet," he continued softly. "The way I treated you is the way You-Know-Who used me. I couldn't see it at the time, but I do now. I apologise."
Malfoy lingered for a brief moment, but then he resolutely spun around and rushed out of the pub. Hermione was so taken aback by what he had just said that she felt hazy. She blinked her eyes and stared after him—though he had already vanished—before turning back to Madam Rosmerta, who could not quite hide the surprise from her face.
"What are you doing with that boy?" she finally asked her, and Hermione could clearly hear the disapproval in her tone. "You are a smart girl. You know he is bad news."
Hermione straightened up. "Professor Dumbledore appointed him Head Boy before he died," she told the blonde woman. "I've worked alongside him as Head Girl all year. Professor Dumbledore knew Draco Malfoy was forced into his position by Voldemort."
Madam Rosmerta flinched at the name, but Hermione continued as if she didn't notice. "I'm not going to make excuses for him, but he's a wealthy, pureblood kid who grew up in an environment where everything seemed to confirm the prejudices his parents raised him with. Don't we all think our parents know everything when we're young?"
She paused for a moment. "We hated each other for seven years, but I've seen first-hand how hard he's trying to be better. You just said it yourself: I'm a smart girl. And he's convinced me that he deserves a second chance. Clearly, Professor Dumbledore was convinced of that as well."
The landlady of The Three Broomsticks was quiet for a moment. Hermione saw that she was mulling over her words, and she was glad she had mentioned Professor Dumbledore. Though the old Headmaster had been dead for a few years now, his opinion still held a lot of value to most people, and it was clear this was true for Madam Rosmerta as well.
"He can come in," the blonde woman said after a long silence, though her voice sounded strained. "I can't find it in me to forgive him yet, but his apology seemed genuine, and clearly Albus and Minerva vouch for him with his Head Boy appointment. Perhaps I should give him the benefit of the doubt as well."
"Thank you, Rosmerta," Hermione murmured. "We'll go sit in the back corner so you don't have to see him the whole time."
Madam Rosmerta nodded her head as if to thank her and moved to the other side of the bar, swishing her wand around before making her way over to one of the larger tables, a levitating serving tray floating behind her.
Hermione moved back to the door and glanced around the Main Street once she stood outside again, wondering where Malfoy had gone. It took a bit of a search until she finally saw the back of his blond head of hair on the outskirts of the village. He stood leaning against the fence that separated the village from the Shrieking Shack, roughly on the same spot where she had sat with Ron only a few months ago.
She made her way over to where he stood and leaned her arms on the fence next to him when she reached him. "Hey," she greeted him softly. "Are you okay?"
He didn't answer for quite some time, but Hermione knew better than to ask again. She knew that she shouldn't push him, especially when it was clear that he was struggling.
"This is what my life is going to be like, isn't it?" Malfoy stated after a while, and his voice sounded tired. "Endless apologies to people who don't even want to hear it and don't care what becomes of me."
Hermione glanced up to study his face. His eyes were directed at the Shrieking Shack, but they seemed unfocused, and his gaze was hollow. "I suppose that depends on the kind of life you want," she answered carefully. "You don't have to do it. But if you care at all… then yes. You should probably prepare for a difficult start."
She realised that she had tensed up. Over the past few months she had gotten so used to Malfoy lashing out at her for confronting him with reality that it had become an instinctive response. She hated this. She could tell countless people that she thought Malfoy deserved a second chance; that she vouched for him… but did that really mean anything when there was still a part of her, however small, that apparently didn't fully trust him?
"For now, though," she forced herself to continue, "one more person is willing to start anew if you are. We can go to The Three Broomsticks, if you still want to go."
Malfoy blinked his eyes and slowly turned his head. His eyes roamed over her face as though he was searching for something, and then he exhaled a sort of disbelieving chuckle. "And was that because of what I said, or because of something you said after I left?"
Hermione couldn't suppress a smile. "That doesn't really matter, does it? It's the result that counts."
He fully turned toward her and slowly moved closer. His eyes never left hers, and Hermione felt her heartbeat pick up again when Malfoy raised his hand and gently combed it through a strand of curls before lightly caressing his fingertips over her cheek and down her jaw. "I despise it when those I dislike try to help me," he murmured, and Hermione felt increasingly more breathless as his hand came to rest on the back of her neck.
"Well, then maybe," she managed softly, giving him a mock-glare through her smile, "you should start acting like you dislike me again."
Malfoy gave her a lazy smirk and bowed his head, and Hermione's eyes fluttered closed of their own accord when he lightly brushed his lips over her cheek, toward her ear. "Maybe later," he breathed out.
It struck her that he smelled really good, and having him so close to her made her stomach feel uneasy in the best possible way. She had been so convinced that the growing attraction between them was just the result of their forced partnership, but here they were, together of their own free will; their own decision… and it had never felt so good to be around him before. Her life would be so much easier if her earlier conviction had come true, but right now Hermione couldn't care any less about logic. She just wanted this day to last.
"Let's go back to The Three Broomsticks, then," she said, slowly pulling away from Malfoy. He watched her move back, and Hermione couldn't help but stare back at him for just a little longer. The playful twinkle gave his normally cold grey eyes an entirely new look, and it lit up his whole face. There was no denying it: Malfoy was quite handsome when he wasn't sneering.
They leisurely made their way back to the village's Main Street. Just as he had earlier at Tomes and Scrolls, Malfoy opened the door of The Three Broomsticks for her and followed her into the pub. Madam Rosmerta seemed tense when they made their way past the bar, but she clearly made an effort to keep her facial expression neutral, and for that Hermione was grateful.
When they reached the back corner of the pub, Hermione took off her cloak and moved around the table and into her seat. She normally didn't prefer the booths, but for now she was glad with the privacy their secluded spot offered.
Malfoy moved in from the other side of the table until he sat next to her in the half-round booth, putting his cloak on the seat next to him like she had done. Almost immediately, Madam Rosmerta appeared at their table. "What can I get you?" she asked. Hermione heard the forced politeness in her voice, but she smiled up at the landlady anyway, appreciative of her effort.
"I'd like a butterbeer with ginger, please."
The blonde woman nodded her head and raised a questioning eyebrow at Malfoy, who briefly averted his eyes and cleared his throat. "A Firewhisky for me, please. No ice."
Once their drinks had been brought to their table Hermione began feeling nervous again. Even though they had been having a good time so far, and though there had even been a bit of flirting, she was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that she was voluntarily sitting in a secluded corner of the pub… with Draco Malfoy.
She reached out to her butterbeer glass with both hands and glanced up at him, only to find him already staring at her. "You need to stop doing that," she muttered as she quickly glanced down again.
"I'm just waiting for that big brain of yours to start overthinking," Malfoy replied softly.
Hermione let out a sigh. "I'm afraid it just did."
He took a sip of his Firewhisky and leaned back in his seat. "Why do you always have to think?"
"Well, you're not exactly a just-be-in-the-moment kind of guy either," she shot back a little defensively.
Malfoy surprised her when he chuckled in response before taking another sip of his drink. He seemed oddly at ease in her company, especially considering the fact that they were sitting in the pub that he had been banned from until only a few short moments ago.
"How does it feel being back here?" Hermione asked him after a moment. "Is it weird?"
He remained quiet for a moment, seemingly considering her question, before he turned his head to face her and shrugged his shoulders. "It's not so bad if I don't think about it." After another sip of his Firewhisky he averted his gaze again. "Unfortunately, it's nearly impossible to not think about it," he added softly. "No matter what I do, nearly everyone keeps reminding me that I'm the bad guy."
In any other situation she would have assumed that anyone who said something like that was fishing for someone to deny the statement. Malfoy, however, clearly wasn't acting. She had seen him act out a part so often in the past months—years, really—that she recognised his tells. Right now, the look in his eyes was incredibly transparent, and it was clear to her that he really cared about how people perceived him.
Hermione hesitated for a moment before scooting closer to him. "It's going to take time," she murmured, "but you're doing really well. I don't think you're the bad guy to as many people as you think anymore."
Malfoy didn't say anything for quite some time. From the way he tensed up from time to time, Hermione concluded that he was fighting a battle within himself, and she didn't want to rush him. Finally, he threw back his drink in one large swig and took a deep breath.
"It's… really hard," he began in a strained voice. "Going against everything I've been raised to believe… going against my parents…" His hand formed a fist on the table. "There are moments when I feel so… so…"
Hermione lifted her arm and hesitantly put her hand on his fist. Immediately she felt him relax a little, and he slowly turned his hand around before closing it again around hers. She glanced up at his face, but Malfoy kept staring at their joined hands on the table, seemingly not yet ready for eye contact.
He let out a heavy sigh. "If I'm struggling so much now, when I'm not even around the people I care about that expect me to be who I was before the war…" He dejectedly shook his head. "I don't know if I have it in me to create so much distance between them and myself…"
Hearing him voice these concerns, Hermione realised she had never fully understood before how different their worlds really were. As strong as the reflex was to tell him everything was going to be okay, she knew she had no business telling him that, because she had no idea if it was true.
It had always been clear to her that Malfoy was loved by his parents and admired and well-liked by the Slytherins he surrounded himself with… She had never truly believed that love to be conditional on him upholding the ancient pureblood values he was raised with, even though she was well aware of how Andromeda Tonks had been treated because of her choices. To hear him express these fears made her realise that she had judged his situation from her own perspective. Still, it was part of her to hope for the good in people.
She glanced up at him again. Emboldened by the vulnerability in Malfoy's eyes, Hermione slowly moved her hand to interlace their fingers, and finally he looked up to meet her eyes.
"If you had told me a year ago that we would be sitting here today, I likely would have died laughing," she told him softly. "But the truth is, we are here, and I've been having a really good time today."
Despite everything, one of the corners of Malfoy's mouth curled up in a half-smile, and for a brief moment Hermione saw a hint of his trademark smugness on his face.
"We don't know what the world will look like in a year," she continued. "Perhaps the people around you will adjust as well. Everyone at least deserves a chance to prove themselves."
He raised one of his eyebrows in a sceptical manner. "You're sickeningly optimistic, you know that?" he muttered, and Hermione couldn't help but smile. "I hope you're right," he added softly. "But I'm not holding my breath."
She could feel that the mood was threatening to shift. As much as she appreciated Malfoy opening up to her, and as much as she admired that, after having actively repressed them for so long, he was finally facing his feelings, she didn't want this to ruin the day they were having.
"When you were young," she mused aloud, "what did you want to be when you grew up?"
For a moment, Malfoy looked really taken aback by her sudden change in subject, but then he seemed to catch up on what she was attempting to do, and he breathed out a chuckle.
"I wanted to play professional Quidditch. Every young boy's dream." Then he narrowed his eyes at her, and suddenly he looked very much like the bully he had been for so long. "I was actually quite a good player for my age," he continued. "Your implication in our second year really hurt my feelings."
Hermione fought the impulse, but after a few seconds she gave in to the urge to glance away. "I'm sorry," she said without thinking. "I never thought you'd care about my opinion."
"I didn't. Not really." Malfoy shrugged a little. "But I was afraid that people would believe what you said. It wasn't true." Unexpectedly, he chuckled again, and Hermione's eyes shot back up to his. He looked a little sheepish. "No one ever defied me like you did. You're such a nuisance."
She couldn't help but laugh. "Says you."
His eyes bored into hers, and Hermione felt the smile on her lips disappear as the nerves formed a pit in her stomach. By now she recognised the look in his eyes all too well; the intent was almost palpable. Once again, just like that moment in the library all those weeks ago, she suddenly wondered if he had been sitting this close to her the whole time. His thumb softly moved up and down hers, and Hermione felt increasingly more breathless the longer they stared at each other.
"I need to ask you something," Malfoy finally said, and she nodded her head without breaking their eye contact, wordlessly permitting him to continue. He leaned closer, his eyes shifting over her face, studying her while he seemed to gather the courage. "I really want to kiss you right now," he murmured.
Hermione could feel his breath on her face, and the smell of the Firewhisky on his breath seemed to intoxicate her a little. She inhaled slightly unsteadily and squeezed his hand, as if that would help ground her again. "That's not a question," she finally managed with a forced teasing tone, slightly taken aback by her own breathlessness.
She noticed a somewhat mischievous flicker in his eyes and slowly dropped her gaze to his mouth, where she saw a hint of a smirk as he lifted his chin a little. "Granger, may I—"
"Yes."
Immediately, Malfoy let go of her hand and moved closer. Before Hermione could fully comprehend what was happening, his hands were on both sides of her face and his lips crashed into hers, kissing her with much more fervour than he had last time.
She had no idea if it was the alcohol or the fact that she was suddenly incredibly aware of the fact that she was kissing Draco Malfoy in public, but she felt incredibly light-headed, and her stomach felt as though hundreds of butterflies were trying to break free.
Her thoughts vanished again only a second later, and she lost herself completely in the movement of his lips. His hands travelled from her face to her neck and down her arms, and suddenly she was lifted from her seat. She broke the kiss with a small gasp when Malfoy set her down on his lap and sneaked his arms around her waist to pull her closer to him.
Fully taking advantage of their newfound closeness, Hermione leaned back in to resume the kiss, no longer caring that she wasn't usually a fan of PDA. Her hands moved up Malfoy's chest and found his face, one hand travelling further up to comb through his blonde strands of hair. His tongue brushed against her lower lip and then against her own, tasting both sweet and spicy from their combined drinks.
It hadn't even been a full month since they had last snogged, but Hermione already found that she couldn't believe it had been that long. Malfoy really was an incredible kisser.
She had no idea how long it had been when they finally broke apart and she rested her forehead against his as they caught their breath. His arms were still tightly wrapped around her waist, causing her to fully lean against him. One arm was loosely draped around his shoulders, her other hand absent-mindedly combing through his soft hair. Last time she had felt incredibly uncertain in the aftermath of their kiss, but this time Hermione was happy to note that she felt completely at ease in his arms.
Much too soon, however, it became clear that their time in Hogsmeade was ending, forcing them to leave their secluded booth and make their way back to Hogwarts. They shared a few more kisses during the carriage ride back to the castle, but as soon as they returned on school grounds, Hermione could tell that both of them felt compelled to put some distance between them again.
Once they stood at the foot of the Marble Stairs, though, Malfoy quickly scanned the Entrance Hall. When he seemed certain no one was looking at them, he bent down and brushed his lips against her cheek before planting a lingering kiss on her jawline. Then he straightened back up, knowingly raising his eyebrows for a second, and then he turned away before finally disappearing toward the dungeons.
Hermione felt as though she floated through the castle as she made her way to the Gryffindor tower. Never in a million years would she have expected she could have such a lovely time with Draco Malfoy. Still, the thought didn't seem nearly as foreign as it had this morning, and no matter how hard she tried, it was impossible to stop smiling.
When she arrived back in her dormitory she was once again alone. She unbuttoned her cloak and hung it over the back of the chair in front of her desk. She then turned around toward the bathroom before halting abruptly, tilting her head toward her bed. There, in the middle of her pillow, laid a neatly wrapped package.
Hermione felt her heart beat in her chest as she moved forward and sat down, reaching out and taking the package in her hands. With trembling hands she removed the wrapping paper, and her stomach fluttered when she turned around the brand new book she found inside. Groundbreaking Developments in Charms.
She brushed her fingers over the leather binding of the cover, admiring the beautiful lettering that spelled out the title. She couldn't believe it. When she opened the book to the first page, her heart skipped a beat.
I hope you'll remember this date as fondly as I will. - DM
The rampage of butterflies in her stomach told Hermione all she needed to know, and for a moment she was overwhelmed with fear of the unknown. She had been so convinced that the attraction between her and Malfoy had been the result of their forced partnership. She had been so sure that it would fade as soon as they let go of the fact that they shared something secret, but even logic wasn't going to get her out of this.
There was really no doubt about it any more. She was falling for Draco Malfoy.