Hi everyone! I'm so excited to share this chapter—it's my favorite so far! This is the night when everything begins to change! Plus, it's longer than usual!
Now, get ready to dive into their awkward yet utterly adorable love journey! I hope you'll like it.
PS : A huge thank you to PotterHeadForever123 for being my very first follower!
PART 4
It was lateーfar too late to be wandering the corridors. Hermione hurried back to Gryffindor Tower, her steps quick and light as she tiptoed past the bathroom. Unfortunately, it wasn't just any bathroomーit was Moaning Myrtle's.
Inside, Myrtle's wails echoed loudly. "You don't understand!" she sobbed, her voice high-pitched and shrill. "Nobody ever cared when I was alive! They were all so cruel! And now, now I'm stuck here forever!"
Hermione sighed, glancing nervously at her watch. "I'd love to stay, Myrtle, but it's already lights-outー"
"Of course you're leaving!" Myrtle screeched. "Everyone does! You're just like the rest!"
Hermione bolted for the door as Myrtle's wails escalated. She clamped her hands over her ears, whispering, "Never again. Never again."
By the time she reached the Fat Lady's portrait, she felt a small sense of reliefーuntil she saw the guardian slumped against the frame, snoring loudly.
"Brilliant," Hermione muttered, knocking softly. "Excuse me? Hello?"
The Fat Lady grumbled something unintelligible, shifting slightly in her sleep. Hermione knocked harder, but the portrait didn't stir.
Frustrated, she stepped back, her wand in hand. "Lumos," she whispered, casting a faint glow over the dark corridor.
That's when she saw itーa flicker of light down the hall. But it wasn't the cool, soft glow of a wand. It was the steady, warm gleam of an ordinary lamp.
Her stomach dropped. A lamp meant someone else was out of bed. Worse, she heard the telltale yowl of Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris.
"Oh no," Hermione whispered. Her heartbeat quickened as heavy footsteps echoed closer. Panic seized her, and she dashed in the opposite direction, barely making a sound on the stone floor.
She darted down staircases and along twisting corridors, trying to lose whoeverーor whateverーwas following her. Finally, she spotted a familiar door at the far end of the hall: the boys' bathroom.
It wasn't her first choice, but Filch would never expect to find her there. She slipped inside, holding her breath.
The footsteps stopped outside a distant classroom. Hermione smirked, her confidence growing as she imagined Filch poking around the desks, muttering to himself.
She crept deeper into the bathroom, listening intently. The footsteps faded into silence. He's gone, she thought with relief, leaning against the wall.
But the feeling of victory lasted only a moment.
Her foot bumped something soft. She frowned, casting her wand light downward.
There it wasーa book, lying open to a page labeled Advanced Healing Magic. A few inches away, a green robe lay crumpled on the floor, the Slytherin crest gleaming in the dim light.
Hermione's brow furrowed. "What on earthー"
"Expelliarmus!"
Her wand shot out of her hand before she could react. The bathroom plunged into darkness.
"Who's there?" she demanded, spinning around.
She caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure slipping past her, swift and silent. Without thinking, she lunged after it.
I bolted down the hall, clutching both wandsーmine and Granger's. My shirt flapped open where I had no time to bottom, and without my robe, the cold air nipped at my skin.
What is she doing here? Granger was fastーtoo fast. Her footsteps were still behind me, and I had a horrible feeling she wasn't about to give up.
I swore quietly, my thoughts racing. She'd seen the bookーwide open to Advanced Healing Magic, no less. And worse, she'd seen my robe. The green crest practically screamed, Malfoy was here.
But had she seenーit?
I winced, trying not to think about what else might have been visible. I'd been hiding in the farthest corner of the bathroom, sure no one would find me. Too genius to fail, I'd told myself.
Apparently not.
The book had been my mistake. I just didn't have time to close it because she appeared from nowhereーGranger. Why was she even here?
I ran faster, clutching the wands tighter in my hand. If she caught me, she'd lecture me for hoursーor worse, report me. And if she'd seen too much…
No, I thought fiercely. She couldn't have.
And if she did, I'd deny everything.
For now, I just had to outrun her.
"What in Merlin's name were you doing, Malfoy?" Hermione hissed, her voice sharp enough to cut through the silence of the deserted hallway. Her fingers clamped around his wrist like a vice, refusing to let him wriggle away this time.
Malfoy glared at her, his pale, pointed face shadowed by the dim torchlight. "Let go of me, Granger," he snarled, attempting to shake her off.
"Not until you tell me what you're up to, you slippery ferret!"
His eyes narrowed dangerously, but instead of his usual retort, he gave a sharp tug, breaking her hold. The force left an angry scratch on the back of her hand. Hermione flinched, clutching her stinging skin as he stormed off without a word.
"Unbelievable," she muttered, her frustration bubbling over. But before she could shout after him again, a faint, high-pitched sound reached her ears.
Mew.
Hermione froze. A cat? Here? Her heart lurched. Filch and Mrs. Norris had to be nearby.
What am I doing? she thought as she darted toward the sound, her hand still throbbing. The boy's bathroom had been her destinationーshe'd nearly forgotten why she was even there. Instead, here she was, skulking through the corridors like a first-year with no plan.
She wasn't sure what was worseーthe sharp clip of Filch's boots echoing ominously or the mocking voice she heard moments later. She started running, furious. He was doing something more weird than ever, and also cut my hand, but he sneaked away, while I was captured and detained. How dare you Malfoy-
"Shh. Over here," someone whispered from a broom cupboard nearby.
Her eyes darted toward the source of the voice, narrowing when she saw a pale hand beckon her from the narrow crack of the door.
Before she could argue with herself, she slipped inside.
The space was cramped—far too cramped. Hermione could feel her heart thudding, though whether it was from running or the suffocating proximity of Draco Malfoy, she couldn't tell. His shoulders brushed hers, and his breath came in quick, shallow bursts.
"Move over," she whispered.
"There's no room, you dolt," he shot back, his tone clipped. His words carried the faintest edge of panic, and for a moment, Hermione thought she saw his lips tremble. Is he scared?
She nearly laughed, but the moment shattered when her injured hand brushed against the coarse wool of the robe she was holdingーMalfoy's. Pain bloomed across her skin, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. He noticed—of course he did.
"Watch it," he whispered, his voice gruff. His gaze flicked to her hand, then quickly away. For a fleeting second, she thought he looked almost…guilty.
The faint glow of Filch's lantern seeped through the cracks in the door, illuminating Draco's face. He was pale as ever, but his expression was uncharacteristically serious. She swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were.
Then she heard a deep sigh of Flich's. When the footsteps finally receded, they both exhaled. The tension in the air, however, remained as thick as ever.
Draco sneezed suddenly, the sound barely stifled.
"Malfoy!" Hermione snapped, recoiling.
"Oh, don't flatter yourself. I'm not sneezing on you," he said, bottoming his shirt.
"You could at least warn me."
"Warn you? Granger, you're lucky I even let you in here. And give me my bloody robe back. It's freezing."
She hesitated but handed it over, rolling her eyes.
"This is a nightmare," he muttered, throwing the robe over his shoulders.
"You're telling me," Hermione retorted. "If I'd known you were hiding in here, I'd have taken my chances with Filch."
"Charming as always." He pushed open the door and stepped out without a glance back, leaving her to follow. She started walking without saying a word.
"Sneaking away?" he asked, his voice sharp and clipped. "I need an explanation for your bloody weird actions."
"Weird actions?" Hermione stopped in her tracks, turning to smirk at him with a sharpness that rivaled his own. "It's you who's acting weird. Seriously, what the hell were you doing inside—"
"Silence," he interrupted, his tone laced with that familiar Malfoy arrogance. "I have the right to ask questions, Granger. After all, I saved your life. You, on the other hand, don't."
"Saved my life?" she echoed, her brows shooting up in disbelief. "What in Merlin's name are you on about—"
"From Filch," he drawled with an infuriating air of superiority, tilting his head. "If my memory serves me right. And so, in exchange for my… polite actions, I think you owe me an explanation."
"Fine," she sighed, feigning boredom as she crossed her arms. "But why did you help me, anyway?"
His smirk returned, curling at the edges like he'd been waiting for her to ask. "Because," he said, leaning in just enough to make her want to step back, "as soon as you got caught, you'd rat me out. Obviously."
Hermione rolled her eyes, her irritation bubbling up once again. "You're unbelievable."
"And you're predictable," he retorted, straightening his robes with a flourish. "Now, Granger, answer the question—why were you there tonight?"
"Fine. I got distracted by Moaning Myrtle, so I was late. I tried to get back to the Gryffindor Tower, but the Fat Lady was—well, dead—no, sleeping. Then Filch and his lovely cat showed up, so I ran, spotted the bathroom, and saw you… doing whatever it is you do."
"Wait, who's Moaning Myrtle?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"No more questions, Malfoy. You're on a one-question limit," she snapped.
Suddenly, the stinging pain on her hand returned to her attention. She looked down at the faint streak of blood. "Give me your wand," she demanded, glaring at him. "I haven't gotten mine back yet."
He grinned, leaning against the wall with a smug expression. "I don't know… Maybe if you answer my question, I'll consider it. After all, I found it fair and square."
"Oh, grow up," she said with an exasperated roll of her eyes. "You're acting like a spoiled child. What do you want, Malfoy? To know more about Moaning Myrtle?"
He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Of course not. New question: Why did you want that book so badly?"
Her lips twitched, and then she burst out laughing.
"Is that what's been bothering you?" she asked, her laughter echoing faintly in the corridor. "Or is it because you wanted to beat me at studying? If you're hoping for some big secret, Malfoy, you'll be disappointed. Satisfied now? Now, give me my wand."
Although he looked rather dissatisfied, he eventually gave in to her glare, pulling her wand from his pocket and handing it over reluctantly.
"Episkey," she murmured, her tone brisk as she gently placed the wand over the gash on her hand. Nothing happened.
Her brow furrowed as she tried again, this time more deliberately. Finally, the wound closed, leaving a faint, silvery scar behind. She frowned at the mark.
Why didn't it fully heal? she thought gloomily.
"Why do you know that? Episkey?"
"You're cheating! I told you, only—"
"What do you mean cheating? You think this is some kind of game, Granger?"
Hermione's cheeks flushed a deep pink. "No. And for the record, you hurt me. On my hand. So, by your own logic, that means I get to ask you a question now, doesn't it?"
Draco crossed his arms and arched a brow. "Certainly not."
"Oh, come on! You started this." She exhaled in exasperation, eyes narrowing as she tried to think of something he might actually answer. Questions swirled in her mind—questions about the bathroom, the book, and his strange behavior. But she quickly dismissed them. He wouldn't answer—not truthfully, anyway.
Then an idea struck.
"Why were you looking at Ginny like that earlier?" she asked, her voice steady but her gaze sharp. "What was that about?"
Draco stiffened, caught off guard. Of all the questions she could have asked… His mind scrambled for a short answer.
"To warn her," he said finally, his voice clipped.
Hermione frowned. "Warn her? About what?"
"Nothing that concerns you," Draco replied, his tone deliberately cold. But he immediately regretted it. He saw her eyes narrow, curiosity igniting into determination.
"You're lying."
Draco flinched at the accusation, but before he could respond, pain flared in his side. His hand moved to his scar instinctively, and he grimaced.
"What's wrong with you?" Hermione asked, her voice tinged with concern despite the annoyance in her expression.
"Nothing," he muttered, straightening his posture and brushing past her attempt to step closer. "And now you're cheating, Granger. I don't owe you any more answers."
"But who said cheating is not the right word and—"
"I'm done talking."
I said nothing more and started to leave the dormitory. A shaky sigh escaped me as agony flared up from my wound again. What the fuck—
"What the fuck!" The words came out louder than I expected, not because of the pain but because of something entirely different. Granger had grabbed my hand. Hard.
"What do you want?" I snapped.
"I want nothing but an explanation. Why were you in the bathroom?"
"What are you—"
"Revenge," she cut me off, her eyes glinting dangerously as a smirk tugged at her lips. "Last time, I let you off because you hurt me. And I gave up on you and your robe just because you sneezed."
So, that was her plan? I considered this for a moment before snorting quietly. She really thought grabbing my hand would make me so desperate that I'd spill everything? Foolish.
But as her grip tightened, I realized something else: she wasn't entirely wrong. Her hold was firm—too tight to slip out of. It was uncomfortable. First, I get locked in some sort of closet, and now this? Grabbing hands with my enemy at midnight? What a pathetic situation.
I can't harm her again—
What? I gasped at the thought. Of course, I can harm her. Why wouldn't I? I don't care about her—she's not someone whose wellbeing matters to me. That's why I walked away last time, right? So why hesitate now?
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted as the pain in my stomach worsened, sending icy chills through my body. If I hurt her, would it make this agony stop?
Come on, think, Draco. I gritted my teeth, trying to focus. How do I get rid of Pansy when she clings to me? My mind was blank.
Then, I noticed something.
Her hand was warm.
Unfortunately, she noticed it too.
"Malfoy—your hand is—" She paused, her eyes widening.
"What?" I muttered, already knowing the answer.
"It's like ice. Are you dead?"
"Funny question," I replied with a scowl. "Why are you just noticing now? You've been holding it this whole time."
I didn't mean much by it, but she gave me a concerned look. Adorable. I mean, annoying.
"I don't know—" she murmured.
"Hey, is it really that cold?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
I pretended to test the temperature of my hand, pressing my other hand against it even though I knew perfectly well how cold it was—and why. Just as I expected, her warm grip disappeared.
Yes! I darted away from her.
"Good night," I called over my shoulder without another word.
I rushed down the corridors, my steps echoing in the silence. But even as I fled, I could still feel the lingering warmth of her hand on mine. Biting my lip, I shoved my hand into the folds of my robe.
But she held it earlier, too, didn't she?
I sighed, realizing there was no escape from this foolish, arrogant, Gryffindor.
What did you think of this chapter? I'd love to hear your thoughts! I'll be updating the next chapter very soon, so I hope you'll stick around and check it out.