October 5, 1998
Sounds of faint scribbling bounced off the walls of Slughorn's office as he spent the past hour jotting down lecture notes. Much to his credit, he had been working diligently for the entire duration since arriving that morning, only to have it be diverted when a knock sounded from the other side of the door.
"Come in," he called out as he hastily wrote down the last few words while they were still fresh in his mind.
As the door creaked open, recognition dawned on his face when he glanced up and the intruder poked their head in.
"You wished to see me, Professor?"
"Ah yes, Miss Granger. Please, have a seat." He gestured to the chair across from his own. "I was hoping to have a quick chat with you before class."
Hermione stepped in, shutting the door behind her as he wandlessly whisked away his stack of parchment and replaced it with a tea tray. She lowered herself onto the seat in front of him, watching him pour a cup of tea for himself before glancing at her.
"Tea, my dear?" he offered while hovering the kettle over a second cup.
"Oh no, thank you." She politely declined, hoping her repugnance wasn't too obvious. "I'm really not a big tea drinker."
"Understood. I imagine there are quite a few who share your sentiments on what is fundamentally leaf water." He joked lightly as he set the kettle back down on the tray. She smiled gratefully and sat in place while he proceeded to add cubes of sugar to his cup of tea—one at a time.
With each passing minute, her eyes flickered warily between the cup and his look of concentration as he added and mixed in the cubes, watching them dissolve away with her patience. Eventually, the anticipation got to be too much.
"Professor, am I in trouble?" She blurted out uncomfortably once he got to what felt like the hundredth cube when realistically, it was the eighth cube.
"Good heavens, no." His expression scrunched up as if the mere thought were impossible to fathom. "Why on earth would you think such a thing?"
"Just curious." Her eyes followed the cup as he lifted it to his mouth to take a sip, his face twisted in disgust.
"Oh my—that's absolutely horrendous—" he muttered as he forced himself to swallow the bitter fluid. "You'll have to forgive me. I've always been somewhat particular with my tea." He assured her as he stirred in what she hoped was the last few cubes.
Four additions later, he tasted the hot liquid and appeared to deem the sweetness level to be satisfactory. He set the teaspoon down and motioned the whole tray away. As soon as it landed safely on the shelf behind him, he was finally able to tend to his guest. "Now, I called you here because I wanted to check in with you to see how you and your partner were getting on with the assignment."
"We're...managing. Why? Has he said something?" She inquired in a half-joking manner, the other half consisting of fear, knowing very well he could have used their lack of communication lately to his advantage.
Bridging off from Hermione's original note she left behind that one evening, they had set an unspoken routine by leaving brief messages for each other regarding what events had occurred with the brew every night. As a result of their perfected method of asocial interactions, they hadn't spoken to one another in weeks; at least not verbally. She would give anything for this to not be her interrogation to explain the reasoning behind their abnormal, evasive arrangement. Merlin, she really hoped she didn't have to explain why.
"As a matter of fact, he has." He replied, continuing to sip his tea, oblivious to her internal battle.
Instantly, her blood ran cold.
She should have known it was only a matter of time before he acted on his detestation for her after their encounter a few weeks ago. Maybe the slap was a bit much...well, here goes why—
"Professor, I can explain—" she cut off when Slughorn shook his head, setting his tea down.
"There's no need to explain anything, Miss Granger." She felt her heart sink even lower. "I've already seen your work and had your partner explain your progress to me."
Hermione wrinkled her nose at him, "Our progress?" she repeated with the realization she had momentarily forgotten his intentions to check on everyone's potions at random times this past week. She assumed he must have stumbled upon theirs on an evening when it was Malfoy's turn to keep watch over it.
"Indeed," he confirmed. "He had nothing but propitious things to say regarding your cooperation and work ethic."
Her brain stopped all functions.
He did what?
No way...he would never...
Not Malfoy.
"Miss Granger?"
"I'm sorry, did I hear you correctly? My partner said nice things about me?" she asked, already feeling herself become delirious at the mere prospect.
"Well, 'nice' is a tad of a strong term to use," he murmured tentatively. "It was positive nonetheless," he added hastily.
Hermione stared at her professor in amazement. Positive remarks, or anything of the sort coming from Malfoy were essentially the same thing. He was complimenting her. Maybe striking Malfoy with that patronus charm did some good after all.
"You seem to be in shock," Slughorn noted, observing her. "Should I be concerned?"
"Yes—no. I mean—" She stopped herself to carefully consider her words, treading slowly. "I just find it surprising since we had a bit of a rough start—"
"As expected," he remarked wryly.
"Right," she confirmed, chuckling lightly. "Though now that I think back on it, the potion was a great deal of trouble to commence."
"Every potion on that list is unmistakably advanced. Especially the one you chose to create." He reminded her tenaciously. "Frankly, it came as a shock to me that anyone elected to do it in the first place. The lack of knowledge and information on it usually deters most from attempting it."
Hermione knew she was no exception to this statement, recalling when she profusely rejected Malfoy's suggestion from the beginning.
"I imagine it wouldn't have been on your list were it not possible, Professor." she stated matter-of-factly to Slughorn, whose mouth quirked slightly with amusement. "You appear to have miscalculated the recklessness your brightest students would subject themselves to when asked to work together."
"So it would seem," he hummed, considering her words. "If I may, Miss Granger, as I feel it is only fair for you to know this. As you were already aware, Professor McGonagall asked me to reconsider the pairing selections in order to incorporate our newfound principles in this school. I told you I spent a great deal of time in the selection process. For it, I had to consider many factors including work ethic, skill level, compatibility and as a result, some people were more difficult to place while some were put together without question." He paused, as if preparing himself for how she would react to his next statement. Combining his slightly guilt-ridden expression, his twiddling thumbs and the context clues, she had a good guess as to what it was.
"You were already planning on pairing Malfoy and I together. Long before McGonagall asked you to change them," she realized.
His lack of a reaction said it all. She pursed her lips together, thinking of how to proceed with that information. What could she possibly say? He was essentially admitting to preemptively assigning her with someone who used to wish for her death as a child.
Was everyone conspiring against her this year?
He cleared his throat uncomfortably, "I know you two have your differences. But you must understand; as a teacher, when I see two gifted and motivated students like yourselves, I can't help but feel compelled to see what the outcome might be when they are placed in a position to work together; to see what great lengths two people from different backgrounds are capable of when given the proper motivation," he stated firmly.
Speechless, Hermione watched as Slughorn stood up from his seat and walked over to a bookshelf on the other side of the room with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Such a fascinating potion, Sana Vulnere." With his back turned towards her, it made him sound more distant than he was. "Many witches and wizards have tried their hand on it but as you may have noticed, research is limited and incessantly unavailable. It's said to be one of the most powerful healing potions known to exist, with the very act of creating it being a remarkable wonder in itself. So remarkable that historians have even coined it 'an act of selflessness'."
Hermione's forehead creased as he demonstrated how well-versed he was with the complexity of their potion. After Malfoy told her about Snape's previous attempt at the potion, it shouldn't have come as a shock to find he wasn't the only professor who had done immense research on it.
Yet, for some reason, it still did.
"When I spoke with Mister Malfoy a few days ago and he told me something very interesting," he turned back around to face her. "He said you believe the brew is somehow linked to lunar phases?"
"Yes sir, this is true," she answered easily.
"How did you come to that conclusion?" He implored, genuinely curious.
She blinked blankly at him, not expecting to be asked for her intellectual opinion. She wished she had more time to prepare for this; time to prepare a legitimate, well-thought out answer.
"When we researched the entries, we noticed the timing was oddly spaced out. I compared them with the dates from a lunar calendar and they lined up with certain phases; the potion was commenced on a new moon, consequential additions occur on a full," she replied studiously.
"Why do you think that is?" He prompted encouragingly.
"Well," she started, conjuring up any knowledge as to why that night be, "—naturally, moonlight provides energy. My best guess would be it acts as a source of power for the healing properties."
"And?" He pressed, like he was trying to guide her to an answer neither of them knew.
"That's...all I have at the moment." She clenched her hands together nervously, twiddling her thumbs as though she were awaiting feedback on a test. The feeling of dread diminished when Slughorn walked back to his desk in front of her and his eyes gleamed with pride.
"I knew I wouldn't be disappointed when I assigned you two together. You've done a spectacular job, Miss Granger. Both of you." He grinned at her. "Now, off you go. I'll see you in class momentarily."
Nearly an hour later, Hermione tapped her fingers on the desk absentmindedly as Slughorn proceeded with his lecture on the dangers of erumpent potions. She would have paid more attention if one; she wasn't already distracted by her conversation with him earlier and two; they hadn't already endured this lecture in their fifth year.
"—potions involving erumpent parts in their creation are notorious for their reactivity. In more recent years, they used to be used as a sort of weapon, designed to combust upon impact with another substance. If it's too reactive and you do not have a buffering potion on standby, a strong shielding charm should suffice. But you best make sure it's good." He added jokingly. "Timing is also key, as a buffer will only delay the inevitable reaction. For instance—"
When he turned around to draw out a diagram on the board, an object from her left flew and landed on her desk; a paper crane.
Furrowing her brow, she opened the folded sheet of parchment and read the short, brief message:
Meet me in the tower at 8 tonight.
Don't. Be. Late.
The message wasn't signed but if witnessing Harry receiving his fair share of these paper cranes didn't give away who the sender was, the penmanship she had grown to know over the past few weeks did. Her eyes glanced over the note a second time before turning her head to where he sat.
Malfoy split his attention between Slughorn's diagram on the board and his notebook where he recorded his own version of notes, not sparing a second to look in her direction.
She sighed heavily, facing forward and sinking in her seat slightly to face the reality of her situation. They had managed to get away with their passive aggressive methods for the past few weeks but now, those methods had to come to an end.
How were they supposed to cooperate in the same room — alone — with what had occurred after their duel?
She recalled how she stayed in the same spot for a solid half hour in a daze before she sheepishly made her way back to her dormitory, evading all of the compliments and questions thrown her way by her dorm-mates. By the time she made it through the common room to her own bed, Ginny had tried every method she knew to obtain any information from her. Eventually, Hermione dutifully admitted Malfoy wasn't injured and promptly told her to fuck off before heading off to the Slytherin dormitories in the dungeon.
Ginny said she would have believed it if she hadn't been gone for over an hour and been visibly shaken when she returned.
Hermione did not comment any further, simply turning over in her bed and forced herself to sleep, ceasing all her thoughts on what had transpired that evening. It wasn't like she enjoyed keeping things from her friends. Sometimes it was much easier to pretend nothing happened.
Unfortunately, it had happened. And as much as it relieved her to know he was just as affected by their confrontation as her, it ended up plaguing her thoughts more. Whatever happened proved what she had seen two years ago was quite real and was still there after all this time. She saw it when she stood in the same room as him, even more so when he held her to the wall with mere inches between them. This time, she knew for certain; his icy exterior was only a front. A sturdy, unchanging facade he used to hide away his suffering and pain.
And she had broken it.
She was lucky to get away with the few weeks of peace but now she had to come to terms with the fact that he was clearly peeved with her. The anticipation of having to deal with him tonight was not helping her concentrate in the slightest.
"—mione? Hermione, are you paying any attention? Class is over."
She jerked her head up. "Sorry, what?" She could barely make out the words Ginny was saying as she glanced around to see her classmates slowly packing their books and leaving.
"Are you alright?" Ginny asked as she packed away her last book.
"I'm fine. "She refrained from glancing over to his empty seat. "Just a lot on my mind, is all."
"Well come on. We need to get to our next class."
They were the last to exit the classroom by the time Hermione finished packing away her items. Thankfully, they didn't have far to go with their next class being at the other end of the hallway. The door was shut and the students were gathered around the room, chattering as they waited for Greeves to grant them entry. In the meantime, Ginny spoke up about their upcoming exams and Hermione was grateful for the temporary distraction.
"—all I'm saying is Greeves should consider another extra credit opportunity with how the next round exams are going to go."
Hermione opened her mouth to retort a sarcastic remark, stopping her tracks when she saw Malfoy talking to Astoria a short distance away. Well, in fairness, it seemed she was doing most of the talking. With him turned towards her, Hermione could barely make out the hint of a smile on his face. A sight she was still not accustomed to seeing.
Her breath caught in her throat when his eyes shifted up past Astoria and locked onto hers. His remnants of a smile dissipated and his eyes hardened.
Instantly, she forced her eyes away to break the eye contact and gave Ginny her undivided attention, brushing off the fact that she could still feel his steely gaze on her. "I don't think his exams are that difficult," she countered.
"You're one to talk." Elena suddenly appeared, putting herself between them. "You're probably the only who's going to do well in his class."
"That can't be true." Hermione opposed, suddenly feeling the pressure on her lessen. "What about you? I've noticed you're more self-assured in your performance. Greeves seemed to have taken a liking to you."
"He's a bit old for my tastes, Hermione," she told her, cheekily.
Ginny let out a snort of a laugh. "Don't let him hear you—" she gestured to the newly opened door. "Then again, what do you have to worry about? If he threatens to give you detention, you could easily kick his arse again. Maybe scare him into giving us all passing grades?" she added in a not-so-joking-manner.
"Let's see how his next exam goes first and I'll see what I can do." Elena laughed as they migrated towards the classroom together.
Hermione smiled at her newfound confidence, recalling the shock and delight she displayed that day before the sensation of a firm grip and his condescending tones inevitably took priority again.
"How long are you going to pretend like nothing's wrong with you?" Ginny asked unceremoniously while flipping a page in her book.
"Nothing's wrong with me." Hermione snapped, taking a pause in answering a homework problem.
Ginny huffed a sarcastic laugh, closing her textbook shut and mentally praising Luna for casting a silencing spell the minute they set up in the library. "We're seriously doing this again? I thought you were over what happened with Ron."
"Ginny—" Hermione warned.
"Unless this isn't about him at all," she interrupted suddenly, eyes wide.
"Is this really the time—"
"This is about something else..." Ginny paused, then gasped. "Or someone else."
"What about Malfoy? She's been like this since the day of their duel." Elena offered curiously, immediately ducking her head back down to copy notes at Hermione's glare. She never wished she could hex her more than in that moment.
"Malfoy." Ginny repeated slowly, pointing her quill at her for emphasis. "That has to be it—"
"You know," Hermione's pitch rose in her attempt to change the topic, "I really think should get back to studying with Greeves' test coming up—"
"Now that I think of it, both of you have been acting very odd lately. Even Blaise said something about it the other day. Fucking Blaise Zabini noticed, Hermione." She highlighted in a pleading tone.
"Don't be so dramatic, Ginny. Us behaving this way is nothing new," she tried to play off. "This isn't abnormal—"
"You walk in the other direction when you see him walking down the hallway," Luna spoke up for the first time that afternoon, still neck deep in her book and not looking up. "You didn't even do that when he used to tease you."
"You won't even look at him now." Ginny noted.
"I hardly looked at him before," Hermione shot back.
"Yes but that was before I pointed out the fact that he's attractive." Ginny added.
"That's...that's completely irrelevant," she stammered, thrown off by the direction this conversation was now taking. "How he looks has nothing to do with him as a person—" she protested weakly.
"Meh...debatable." Elena contributed briskly.
Hermione scoffed at her while Ginny stifled a laugh, amused at her discomfort, "I'll let you continue with your denial for the time being. But I've seen what you two are like on a normal day and even when you're cross with each other — which is the majority of the time — it's never been this weird."
She grimaced and pursed her lips together, unsure of how to correct her.
"Come on, Hermione. You never even told us what happened after Greeve's duel. It's been two weeks. Obviously something happened or you wouldn't be treating each other like the plague. You were starting to get along for a while. Now you're acting as if he—" Ginny leaned forward, her voice low and dangerous. "Did he hurt you?"
"No!" She nearly shouted. "I mean...he didn't hurt me, exactly." Hermione insisted but Ginny wasn't budging. Her expression was murderous.
"Spill."
Hermione sank in her chair now that they had captured both Luna and Elena's attention from their assignments.
"He cornered me in a classroom," she answered sheepishly.
"He did what?" Ginny hissed. Elena's eyes widened and Luna's expression remained unchanged.
"But to be fair, I did pursue him first," Hermione interrupted quickly before Ginny could storm off abruptly in search of him, likely to induce some sort of physical harm. "I ran after him, remember? I-I'd never cast a patronus charm on a person before and I wanted to make sure he was okay."
"Then what?" Elena asked, intrigued.
"He kept telling me to leave him alone but I followed him anyway. Then I put myself in front of him to stop him and he ended up throwing me into a classroom where we yelled at each other. Eventually, he told me to leave him alone, then he left."
Ginny narrowed her eyes at her. "There's something else."
Hermione bit her lip, "He may have—erm—pinned me against the wall." She finished lamely as the three of them stared at her in amazement.
"Christ, Hermione," Elena breathed.
"I know, I know. It was foolish of me to chase after him like that alone—" She started frantically, recalling the last time she got berated by Harry for essentially doing the same thing their sixth year.
"No, I-I mean—yeah. Totally." Elena stuttered, slightly flustered.
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at her and completely missed the knowing smile Luna hid behind her book.
"And here I was worried he cursed you or something." Ginny sighed in relief as she settled back into her seat, having stood over the table at some point in the escalating interrogation.
Hermione crossed her arms, "So because he didn't curse me, it's no longer a concern," she tested.
"Not that it isn't but it's different with you. It seems like no matter what progress you make, you're taking two steps backwards." Ginny noted, continuing to ponder critically.
Hermione let out a frustrating groan. "Because you're talking about Malfoy and I! I've already told you, he's made it clear how he feels. Quite frankly, I can't say I disagree. It's always been this way yet for some reason, everyone this year has these false pretenses that Malfoy and I can be on good terms. First McGonagall, then Slughorn and now you?" She finished with a tone of disbelief and incredulity.
Yep, everyone had officially lost it.
"I can't speak for McGonagall or Slughorn," Ginny paused, making sure she answered in a way that wouldn't set Hermione off, "But if I'm honest, then yes, with the war behind us and predispositions in the past, I thought the two of you would get along given how...similar you are." She explained slowly.
"His predispositions never stoppe—wait. How on earth are we similar?" She asked in a disbelieving tone, with the last word leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.
"You're both very defensive," Luna offered, still mostly hidden behind her book.
"No we're not." Hermione's face almost reddened at how quickly she retorted.
"You're intelligent. Driven. Sometimes too much for your own good if you ask me," Ginny added, looking at her pointedly.
That...might be true.
"And have quite the temper." Luna stated easily.
Even though their statements were accurate, it didn't change the fact that their views didn't align. Which, in itself, set the precedent for the entire foundation of their conflict. Superficially, they didn't have anything in common and Hermione was not willing to go any deeper. And she had heard enough.
"None of those suggest we were ever meant to get along. We're two opposite ends of the spectrum and this isn't like 'Pride and Prejudice'—"
Ginny scrunched her face, "Like what—?"
"It's not important. The fact is, this isn't some fantasy world where everyone has a 'happily ever after'."
"A what." Ginny repeated.
"I said it's not important, Ginny," Hermione said exhaustively, diverting her attention to Luna who had set her book down and was looking at her curiously. "What is it, Luna?"
"I've noticed he's been in a foul mood lately—" she started.
He's always in a foul mood, Hermione thought to herself.
"—which begs the question; what did you say to him?" Luna finished casually.
She let out an irritated sigh and dropped her head in her hands, knowing Luna raised a good point as she was likely the one responsible for his recent brooding. "He started speaking ill of Harry and Ron and I warned him to stop. Multiple times—"
Ginny gasped, horrified, clearly catching on to the gist of what she had done. "Hermione, no—you didn't."
"He knew better than to talk about them that way. We had an agreement and he broke it." She defended, unwavering. "Besides, he didn't even flinch. He claims he's different but if anything, he's only proving that I was right about him. He's the same spoiled, atrocious knob we grew up to detest and nothing will ever change that."
"But he has changed, Hermione." Ginny nearly pleaded. "Remember those death threats he used to throw at you?"
"Yes—"
"And all the times he poked fun of your appearance? And tried to get you and your friends expelled?"
"Yes Ginny, I was present for all of this—"
"I mean, the guy used to completely disregard your entire existe—"
"Are you going to get the point anytime soon?" Hermione interrupted, impatient.
"The point is he's working with you—"
"Against his will—"
"And he's communicating with you. He helped you our first day of class before you were even partners. Look—" Ginny paused her, and then hastily held up a hand, catching the beginnings of protest on Hermione's face. "Believe me, I know he can be difficult to deal with but that's just who he is as a person. It starts to...grow on you after a certain point..." She forced herself not to grimace when Hermione eyed her dubiously. Ginny decided then to take another route. "You said he made an agreement with you. About your friends?"
"Which he broke—"
"I know, I know. Just hear me out for a moment." Ginny could tell she was getting irritated but she hoped she would stop and reconsider her thought process. "He agreed to stop doing something you were uncomfortable with. And to my understanding, he stuck to it until you decided to go with your stupidly brave intuition and confronted him when he only recently had his pride handed to him." She paused, letting the words sink in Hermione's mind. "I realize it's different for you because you're in it, but I can guarantee he wouldn't have been doing any favors for you two years ago."
Hermione sat silently, chewing her lip as resounding clarity slowly sunk in. She had been so caught up in the situation at hand that she couldn't see what they saw from the outside. It was true, he was still very much the same pompous, arrogant person they knew him to be but he was treating her differently. He was treating her like he treated everyone else. It was a considerable improvement from outright downplaying her capabilities as a witch like he did before.
"That's not true," Luna offered nonchalantly. "There was that time they were brought to his home by snatchers—" Hermione paled, hoping she didn't dispel everything that transpired when they were brought in by the stragglers. It was a day she commonly wished to eradicate from her memories. Details she longed to erase after had been permanently engraved into her mind:
Her agony.
Ron's pleas.
The determined look in his eyes.
Then Ginny decided to lower her voice, like they weren't already under the effects of a silencing charm. Harry had told her the gruesome details of this day over the summer and she, like the three of them, took it very seriously.
"You remember what he did for you, then. What he risked for the three of you?" She pressed, desperately trying to gauge the blank expression Hermione displayed. "We're on the other side of a war, living to tell the tale. I'm not saying that you should be best friends with him. But after practicing Quidditch with him and talking to Blaise a bit about their past, it may be worth it to talk to him. And I mean, really talk to him."
She huffed her opposition, crossing her arms stubbornly over her chest.
"He's made it very clear he doesn't want my help—" she explained, knowing her chances of success were practically nonexistent as all of her previous attempts ended in disaster.
"No, no. I never said 'help'. I said 'talk' to him," Ginny corrected. "This is Malfoy we're talking about. He may be different but he's not going to accept help from anyone, no matter how 'pure' your blood is. Don't get me wrong, that man has issues. Many issues. But maybe you should take it slow and try what you did with Blaise and Theo—?"
"It's not that simple, Ginny," she protested. "They came to me. Talking to them was easy. With Malfoy...it's not the same—"
"She's right." Luna offered, before glancing up from her book to address Hermione directly. "You're right. It's not the same. There's more history between you two and he was far more involved with Voldemort's affairs than any of his friends were. Clearly, he's still not over the past...and neither are you."
"Why me?" She pouted in a way that strongly resembled Neville when he endured constant misfortunes throughout their years at school.
"Because you're Hermione Granger; our war heroine who is notorious for doing the right thing. Righting the wrongs of an ex-death eater? Sounds like the perfect job for you." Ginny enthused, grinning widely at her evident dismay.
"He's even more difficult to figure out than our bloody potion." She grumbled.
"All the more reason for you to try and crack the enigma that is 'Draco Malfoy'. You've always loved a challenge, after all." Ginny joked, winking at her.
People's awareness of her character and using it against her seemed to be a recurrent theme as of late and none of it was fair.
Fair.
Life's not fair. And whoever said so is rolling around is laughing in his grave like a twat.
The echoes of his haughty voice lingered in her mind as she ground her lips together, trying to conjure up different methods of approaching him later until Luna captured her attention once more.
"Did you know at one point, the moon was used to predict future events and resolve conflicts between magical creatures? Even wizards?"
"That's all a part of Divination, Luna," Hermione remarked, half-distracted. "It's all guesswork."
"Not all of it," Luna supplied. "Henry has seen it himself."
"Henry...your moon frog friend?" Hermione asked slowly.
"Yes." She affirmed, "He's told me several stories from experience. I've even been reading this novel on the history of the moon and the symbolism of its cycles. Would you like to hear an excerpt? It may inspire you."
Hermione nodded for her to continue, curiosity peaked and mentally alert.
'Moonlight has always been known to have magical properties as it dawns us with its inspirational glow, even having the ability to revert some of us into our true forms. The amount that is reflected upon us has a direct correlation on our physical being, emotions and thought process. An eve of a new moon, with no visible moonlight, brings us an opportunity to start new things on a clean slate. It is also a time people tend to use to refresh dreams and desires. Compare this to the full moon which represents completion and power as it basks us with mighty glow, allowing us to celebrate growth and take note of the progress you have made and how far you've come—"
Hermione stopped listening at this point, suddenly being brought back to her conversation with Slughorn earlier that morning when he inquired her about their hypotheses.
Everything Luna recited from that text had answered all of his questions and addressed her own personal struggles she'd been harbouring this whole time. While Theo and Blaise were quick to apologize for any misgivings they caused her, Malfoy had been the main source of her misery from the very beginning. And now with the major conflict threatening their very lives and her friends who acted as her safety nets out of the way, there was nothing left standing between them and the reality they chose to ignore.
From the day she ran after him to everything that took place following their return this year, nothing about it was coincidental. No matter what she told herself or tried to distract herself with, the tugging sensation she felt the day she confronted him that day in the bathroom never left her. All this time, she had tried to play along with his aloof approach to the situation but there was no avoiding it anymore.
When Luna eventually stopped reading, her eyes lifted to meet hers and shifted in recognition.
For the first time since her confrontation with Malfoy, a rush of adrenaline flooded her veins. She laid a hand over the pocket of her robes, feeling his folded note burning through the material. Impossible to think at the start of the year, she doubted herself and her decision to chase for happiness beyond new love with her long-time childhood friend. Come to find herself a month later struggling to find a way to talk to the person who constantly made her life a living hell without confrontation.
How uncanny was that?
Gasping in horror at the vibrating of the watch on her wrist she had set to warn her when time came close, she decided she would ponder on her method of approach during the walk over, for she had run out of time. Out of nowhere, Hermione began to gather her belongings, being particularly careful with her stray sheets of parchment. Ginny, who had finally begun to address her homework, looked up at her in bewilderment.
"What are you doing?"
"Leaving." Hermione answered simply, continuing to collect her items from the table.
"But—what about our study session? I haven't even started on my herbology assignment!" Ginny complained.
"It's your own fault for spending the entire time interrogating me." Hermione deadpanned, her expression taking on a sympathetic one. "I can help you with it tomorrow but I really do have to go."
Without another word, Hermione threw the last of her items in her bag and slung it over her shoulder as she marched away from the table, breaking their silencing charm. She brushed past Blaise and Theo who were perusing a nearby shelf. She flashed them a quick smile before determination bestowed her features as she made her way out of the library.
They watched her leave with identical bemused expressions.
"What's with her?" Theo asked aloud to the current occupants of the table she left.
Luna shrugged, a familiar, seemingly innocent smile graced her features.
"Must be a full moon..."
Hermione stood on the other side of the door and glanced down at her watch.
7:58 PM
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself before grasping the doorknob blindly and pushing forward. The door gave way at her command and she stepped in, taking in the faint smell of mint that had overtaken the room. Her eyes landed on his figure, easily distinguished by his tall, slim build and distinctly large head of blond hair.
His back was turned to her with his robe removed. She could see from where she stood he rolled up the sleeves to his oxford slightly as he fiddled away at their workstation.
She had mentally prepared herself for the worst to overwhelm her emotions; anger, repulse, disdain, anything of the sort would have sufficed. What she wasn't expecting was being bombarded with thoughts of how those arms held her up so easily last time they were together. How they held her in place while he pressed himself closer, rendering her completely at his mercy. A tingling sensation crept its way down her spine, still feeling the ghost of his touch despite the interaction having occurred weeks ago—
"Are you going to stand there all night?" His voice clipped, annoyed, interrupting her thoughts.
Willing for the heat on her face to subside, she flung the door shut behind her and put in as much courage to her stride as she could manage as she made her way to their workstation.
She set her items down on the counter while he continued to sift through the small pile of dragon scales, picking out sturdiest and intact ones to polish off.
As she settled in and shrugged off her own robes, she heard him clear his throat uncomfortably, "The first part of tonight's addition is stardust and dragon scales, followed by the honeysuckle extract. We need to make sure they're spaced far enough apart for maximum absorption." He supplied.
Without protest, she reached for the vial of star fragments and prepared the mortar and pestle for grinding. As she ground the fragments into dust, she couldn't help but notice an odd tension that hadn't been there before. But that didn't deter her from maintaining her compliance, for she had decided along the way here she would let him speak first and guide them through the process tonight.
She figured there was no better way to keep him in good spirits than by not objecting to everything he said. Not to mention if they were to view each other as equals, they needed to start treating each other as such. Hermione took a moment to risk a glance of him from this angle.
His face was schooled. Calm and empty. Nothing in. Nothing out.
His posture was stiff. Tense.
She exhaled, slightly dejected. It would seem he planned on being careful tonight, meaning trying to talk to him tonight was not going to be an easy feat.
A half hour had passed and she had completely accumulated the necessary amount of star dust and he was nearly finished polishing the scales. Dropping the mortar and pestle on the workbench, she brushed off her hands and turned to the cauldron. Her brow furrowed when she peered in to see it was no longer the silver hue, but gleamed a slight blue-green colour.
"It's been like that all evening. I'm sure it's nothing." Malfoy voiced evenly, eyeing her tentatively from where he stood.
She hummed, forcing her mouth closed to keep from spatting off countless random facts about colours having over a dozen different meanings in potions. Instead, she busied herself with stirring the pot in preparation for the additions, quickly reminding herself of the task at hand. He must have witnessed the brief display of conflict on her face because he started to speak.
"It's pointless to worry about. And probably impossible to trace back—"
Difficult. Not impossible.
"Especially when we have blue molies which hate cold weather and are notorious for leaking their colour," he continued in a flippant tone.
That's...completely inaccurate.
"Then there's the also chance we mucked something up—"
Feigning exasperation, she mentally pleaded for him to stop talking before she did something foolish. Like hitting him.
Again.
"Or perhaps it's the mint extract reacting with something and causing the colour change—"
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Her left eye began to twitch and she cleared her throat as she tossed in a measured quantity of dust, stirring away to distract from the attentive eyes she could feel on her.
"Wouldn't you agree, Granger?" She completely missed the derision in his tone due to the fumes currently escaping her ears.
"I don't, actually." She tried to quip in a nonchalant fashion.
"Oh? And why is that?"
That was the only permission she needed. She had been asked directly for her opinion and there was no turning back.
"For one," she began, adopting her typical lecturing tone, "—you're thinking of red molies. Blue molies actually flourish in the cold. Their colours only leak when temperatures are extreme, far beyond the range we've used and they dissipate in mere minutes. Mint extract is a nonreactive substance as it only affects a potion's smell," she sighed in relief as the tension left her. "Surely a student taking solely N.E.W.T.-level classes would know th—" she looked up at him and froze, taking in the amused glint in his eyes and a corner of his mouth twitching upwards.
"Of course you knew that already." She perceived quickly, rolling her eyes and turning her focus back to the simmering potion in front of her.
"And?" He suggested, the beginnings of a cunning smirk displayed across his features. "You're forgetting something."
She huffed lightly at his persistence, "Yes, there is a small chance we did something incorrectly—"
"We?" he echoed, challenging her.
"Yes, we." She affirmed. "We, as in 'you and I.' As in, the two of us who are supposed to be working on this project together as partners. Slughorn seems to think we work well together and we wouldn't want to disappoint him by getting into another nasty duel, now would we?" She added scornfully.
He clenched his jaw tightly, "You can stop playing teacher's pet, Granger. I only spoke up for you so you wouldn't keep up the act as I find it unequivocally repulsive," he sneered and her mouth tightened.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She shot back, subconsciously stepping back so he could step up to the potion and take her spot.
"Oh, I dunno," Malfoy bristled as he lowered the dragon scales into the cauldron with a ladle. "Other than the fact that this is the first time we've spoken to each other in weeks. You're really going to pretend like everything is fine?"
"So you don't like when I talk and you get upset when I don't. There's just no satisfying you, is there?" She said incredulously.
"Well, if you'd really like to know—" he taunted darkly.
"Stop. Just stop." She grimaced. "You're behaving like a rotten cad."
"I have every reason to—" He turned on her, glaring at her while pointing with the ladle in his firm grip. "Because you went from downright impossible to work with to being somewhat manageable. And now you're completely ignoring me on an evening we actually need to communicate."
"I was giving you a chance to lead tonight," she clarified. "I was trying to do you a favor."
"And you didn't think to tell me that from the beginning?!" He shouted back, irritated.
"Don't act virtuous with me, Malfoy," she returned briskly. "It's not like you would have batted an eye at anything I said."
He slammed the ladle on the counter before turning to her. "As I've already fucking told you, I'm not the s—" he cut off when she gasped in horror and jerked on the sleeve of his oxford, pulling him back.
"The potion!" She shouted in a panic, eyes fixed on the worktable.
His eyes landed on what she saw, cursing as their potion had become a fiery red, hissing and bubbling as a result of their anger. They backed away fearfully from the corrosive solution to their own respective corners of the room, wands extracted and at the ready to cast a shield if necessary.
They stayed rooted, anxiously waiting for the violent bubbling to subside but after a few minutes, it had yet to dissolve. Hermione willed for her heart rate to slow down, taking slow, deep breaths to relax. When she glanced at the potion again, it had eased up slightly but was still a bright red and readily unstable. Then she looked over to Malfoy who appeared calm on the surface, she could tell he was still seething internally.
"Malfoy, you need to calm down." She communicated to him in an urgent whisper.
"Don't tell me what to fucking do, Granger." He spat distastefully.
"The potion is empathetic, remember? We have to remain neutral," she reminded him delicately.
Like clockwork, he shut his eyes as he sucked in a deep breath, uncannily similar to when she confronted him two years ago. In a matter of seconds, his eyes opened again and just as she expected, they were hollow. Hermione could hear the rumbling of the potion slowly subside but her attention remained fixed on him, curiosity ablaze.
"Perhaps you should leave." He admitted quietly.
"No, I'm not leaving you," she said firmly, shaking her head stubbornly.
"We need to get this done. I honestly don't give a damn if you don't trust me—" he retorted.
"This has nothing to do with trust, Malfoy," she swiftly corrected. "This is a two person job. No matter how much we try to deny it, we need each other and I will not abandon you."
He jerked his head away, refusing to make eye contact as a whirlwind of conflict took over. Like he didn't know how to process that information.
"We've proven we can manage to be in the same room without killing each other. What's so different now?" She offered.
"You do realize what you're asking. And whom you're asking." He deadpanned, narrowing his eyes at her.
"I do," she conceded lightly. "Just because that was the way things were before doesn't mean it has to be that way now. Clearly our current methods aren't getting us anywhere and we're only doing more harm." She stated earnestly, trying to meet his evading gaze. When their eyes eventually met, he knew she wasn't talking about the potion anymore. "We need to learn how to trust one another."
"Really?" He scoffed. "I see you tense up with apprehension every time you look at me." He supplied flatly.
The full moon which represents completion and power...allowing us to celebrate growth and take note of the progress you have made and how far you've come...
Let me be clear about something...we didn't win...we survived.
It was time. She had to make a choice.
Don't overthink it.
Just be honest with him.
"I saw you that day," she began. "In the bathroom sixth year."
He raised a curved brow. "Thanks for clarifying. Wasn't sure if it was a figment of my imagination or not." He drawled slowly as if she were mentally incapacitated.
"No, I mean I saw you." She emphasized. "I'm still not exactly sure how it happened but...I could feel your pain somehow. I thought I was imagining things but then I felt it again during our duel."
His eyes darkened and she knew she needed to explain herself quickly before he became defensive and shut her out completely.
She held out her wand to him.
He eyed it warily. "What's this?"
"It's a wand." She quipped. "Haven't you seen one before?"
"Oh shove off, you—" he hissed.
"I'm letting you have it." She blurted aloud. "So I don't fight back if you choose to obliviate me."
He gaped at her, grasping for words. "I—I don't—"
"It was wrong of me to pry into your mind like that, when you were at your most vulnerable. It was an invasion of privacy and for that, I'm terribly sorry. I want to make things right," she gestured to the wand in her hand.
She swallowed in anticipation as her words sank in. She was only supposed to talk to him. But she was Hermione Granger; of course she had to go the extra mile. At this point, she could only hope that he didn't take too many memories from her when he inevitably accepted her proposal—
"I'm not going to obliviate you, Granger." He stated eventually.
Her extended arm faltered slightly. "Wh—"
"Put your damn wand away and come help me with the potion. We've wasted enough time as is." He said easily, pocketing his wand and striding back to their potion.
She stayed in place for a moment as the clinking of vials took her back to the present. Shaking out of her stupor, she followed suit, putting her wand away and taking her place beside him at their table. Much to her relief, the potion had returned to its clear, silver colour.
They worked in a comfortable silence for the next hour, taking turns stirring and prepping the next ingredient to be added.
"It hasn't always been like this." He admitted begrudgingly as he stirred.
"What do you mean?" Hermione grunted, continuing to crush the honeysuckle with the mortar and pestle.
"Having a lunatic in your home carries its risks if you can't control your thoughts around him."
"You're an occlumens," she analyzed. "You must be quite skilled to have been able to deceive him."
"Occlumency has proven to be a worthy asset to me." He chuckled darkly as he stared at the simmering liquid. "Though I suppose it's all falling through the cracks now."
"How come?" She saw him purse his lip, like he was keeping himself from saying anything further. "I'm not asking us to be friends by any means but you can talk to me about it." She offered lightly.
"Why the hell should I do that?" he asked defensively.
She paused in her motions momentarily.
He had a point. Why should he confide in her as two individuals who had visibly nothing in common; save for their intellect. Their fears. Their hopes. Their forced roles in parts they didn't want to portray.
Their shared trauma.
"Because," she started confidently even as she was trembling on the inside, "—you're not the only one who is running away from something."
She expected him to laugh menacingly. To react with something along the lines of, 'You? The precious, beloved Golden Girl who can do no wrong? Protected and adored by everyone she passes?'
It was what anyone else would have done. Yet he stayed silent. So she continued.
"You were right about me. I'm not over what happened. Sometimes I wish I could forget I was always on the other end of his wand. All this time, I've been kidding myself that things should just go back to normal. Clearly I was wrong." She surprised herself at how the words fell through her lips so easily. A few moments passed and she turned her head to look at him.
"Are you expecting sympathy from me?" He raised a brow at her as he stirred, calculating.
"No." She admitted honestly. "I'm just...talking."
"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to talk to you?" He admitted after a brief pause. "Even disregarding our history, our personalities don't exactly mesh well. Anything we say usually ends up with us at each other's throats."
"Maybe so...but I didn't come here to walk on eggshells around you, Malfoy." She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "I'm here because for once, I'd like to attend class and learn like any other student. I don't want to feel like the war cheated me out of my chance to live my life. I don't want the aftereffects of it to define my future. I wanted a chance to make a name for myself—a fresh start. I wanted...something normal." She eyed him cautiously, tense with doubt when he tightened his lips and kept his head forward.
Moments passed and she decided it best to continue with her task, in efforts to fill the silence with some form of noise until he spoke up again.
"Congratulations, Granger. I think you've found something we have in common." Shocked, she jerked her head to face him. This time, he was staring back. A corner of his mouth tucked up briefly when her eyes flickered with hope.
It wasn't a confession. Or an apology. But it was something.
It was a start.
She sighed in relief. "So we're in agreement, then. From this day forth, we move on and act like two classmates who can stand to be in the same room."
He paused, considering it. "I'll do you one better, Granger. Instead of acting, I may even try to tolerate you."
She blinked at him in disbelief. "Are—are you making a joke?"
"Don't be naive, Granger," he drawled. "It's simple conversation," he said dismissively.
"Except the Malfoy I know would never stoop so low as to make simple conversation." she said, feigning appall. "He would never do something so...pedestrian."
The corners of his mouth quirked up; a near indication of satisfaction.
"Your usual misconceptions continue to misguide you, I see."
"Hardly." She huffed a laugh. "Next you're going to tell me you never smile."
He was dead silent. "Malfoys don't smile."
"Unfortunately for you, I know that's not true." She smirked knowingly, recalling the time she saw him with his mother. And earlier this morning with Astoria. With the latter memory, her smirk faded slightly.
"You'd best not be going around telling people I smile." He warned dangerously. "Do you have any idea what that would do to my image?"
"Ahh yes. Wouldn't want to ruin that, would we?" She remarked sarcastically, tilting the mortar over the cauldron to pour the extract in.
He shrugged simply while popping open another vial. "I blame the general population of witches."
She shook her head disbelievingly, muttering boys under her breath.
"As much as it pains me to say, I suppose now is as good a time as any to apologize for my behavior after the duel." He sniffed.
Why didn't she sacrifice her memory to him as a peace offering weeks ago?
"It wasn't all you." She eventually admitted, recovering from the shock of his candor. "I provoked you."
"You didn't know what you were doing. I should've sensed the inexperience a mile away."
"Oh please, save the dramatics—"
"I'm serious." He said quietly. "I shouldn't have overreacted."
She tilted her head at him. "Did it hurt?"
"What?" He blinked. "The patronus?"
"Apologizing." Her eyes were wide and shone with genuine curiosity, causing a laugh to suddenly erupt from Malfoy.
"Who would have thought the stuck-up Gryffindor princess actually has a sense of humour?"
She felt her ears turn hot and as an attempt to hide her smile, she abruptly turned to fetch two vials from the shelf behind them. It also kept her from doing anything foolish, like acknowledging the jolt of electricity running through her veins.
When she returned, she dropped them on the worktable and placed her hands on her hips authoritatively.
"Moth wings and golden carrots. And I do believe it's my turn to stir..."
As Hermione took over monitoring the cauldron and adjusted the temperature accordingly, she attempted to conjure up any knowledge of his interests while he prepped the last two ingredients.
"Are you excited for the first game?" she tried, knowing the first match of the season was coming up in a few weeks.
He side eyed her as he chopped the carrot with practiced ease. "Thought you weren't a quidditch fan."
"I'm not." She said flatly.
He arched a groomed brow at her, "Yes, I am very much looking forward to it."
She nodded slowly, wishing she had something to follow up with.
"Still passionate about elf rights with that little program of yours?" He paused, taking on a thoughtful expression. "S.P.E.W., or something?"
"Actually, it's S—" she trailed off. How did he—?
He raised a brow at her when she didn't finish her response. "Yes that's—that's the right—I mean," she stammered, bewildered. "Yes. Fighting for the rights of all magical creatures has always been one of my greatest aspirations."
"Understood," he replied, indiscreetly pleased with the fact that he was able to render her speechless.
Another half hour had passed after the final few ingredients were added and just like that, their first addition was complete.
They packed their items in silence, mentally and physically drained after a long, productive day.
"Granger, that night—" She paused midway of packing a textbook and glanced at him quizzically. "That night in the library—" he clarified.
She frowned in recognition. She remembered that night every well; the night he ever-so-kindly reminded her they didn't win and merely survived. The night he made implicitly clear that nothing had changed despite everything she did for him. He would choose now to bring up this conversation, once their potion was mostly stable.
"I get it, Malfoy. You don't need to remind me." She saw him furrow his brow. "I'm well aware of your sentiments regarding me and my blood status."
"No, you don't understand." He tried to correct but she wasn't having any of it. Her brain was on overdrive again. And when it was on overdrive, there was no stopping it.
"We can finish this assignment and you won't have to worry about dealing with me—" She continued her packing in a hurry, in efforts to prevent their potion from acting up again.
"Granger."
"We can act like none of this transpired between us—"
"Granger, if you would just listen—"
"—and you can go on living your life without anyone knowing of your association with me—"
"Granger." He grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Her breath was forced from her lungs at his proximity.
"You misunderstand."
"What is there to misunderstand?" She demanded, glowering at him. "You said—"
"I know." He interrupted sharply. "I said that we didn't have to pretend like anything's changed. Only I wasn't saying it for me."
What?
What did that even mean? Unless he meant—
"Why would I be pretending?" Hermione said softly, recalling his apparent regret when those words left his mouth, knowing exactly how she would interpret them.
Gathering glimpses of their previous interactions, she slowly pieced it together.
Everyone has a choice, Malfoy….I think it's only fair that you own up to that choice.
He made the choice to constantly ridicule her in front of their peers.
He made the choice to do the bidding of a madman who fought to rid the world of people like her.
Similarly, she pledged to fight for the opposite views. She was willing to die with her best friend for their cause; everything he was raised to fight against. And yet, here they stood, back in the place where it all started.
You still hate me, don't you...
He thought she still hated him.
But did she? Had she ever?
To this day, she had yet to answer him.
He took her hesitation as hitting too close to the truth and looked away uncomfortably.
"I'll see you in class." She heard him murmur. She nodded absentmindedly, listening to his fading steps as she dove deeper into her own thoughts.
At least now she understood; he had been resenting her because he thought her attempts to help him were out of pity. After all, why would you help someone you hated? While she felt a particular way about him, could she truly label it as hate?
It certainly would make things easier, she thought.
She hated Voldemort. She hated Bellatrix. She hated Professor Umbridge.
As they all gave proper reasons for her to feel such a way. In comparison, it wasn't really fair their upbringings had set them apart far before they were even born. Especially with his internal conflict that was now transparent to her.
Clearly, he's still not over the past...and neither are you.
Hermione found herself even more puzzled than when she arrived that evening.
And if there was one thing she hated more than anything, it was questions left unanswered...
A/n: OMG guys. The response to the last chapter. I just can't. You have no idea how happy your feedback makes me :) Also, apologies for the delay. My intentions were to post this chapter two weekends ago but real life can be a real bitch sometimes. Either way, I hope you enjoyed it and see you all at the next one!