Author's Note: Hello, there! I haven't written a FF in years, so I may be a little rusty with my writing here. I've always been the biggest Harry Potter fan, but I recently started re-watching the movies (anticipating the TV series adaptation that's in the works) and I've started reading the FF's lately and miss being a part of this community. I had an idea for a Dramione fic, so I thought I'd test out my writing skills that I haven't utilized in so long and make a slight comeback. Please let me know your thoughts!
This fic takes place during Half-Blood Prince.
Hermione's eyes trailed after Draco Malfoy as he entered the Great Hall, his steps wary and shoulders tense. The room had students from each House scattered around with sounds of light chatter and the rustle of parchment filling the space. She was catching up on some light studying, her mind continuously wandering off to Harry and the growing pressures that he was encountering during their 6th year at Hogwarts. The sight of Draco almost served as an affirmation that her distracted thoughts were valid, given that Draco was the center of many of Harry's suspicions.
The arrogant demeanor that Draco commonly wore so well was no longer evident. Instead, he appeared frail—frightened, almost. Instead of joining his fellow Slytherin's who were chatting incredulously in the corner, he claimed a spot by himself in the center of the table. His seating choice was dangerously close to where Hermione's textbooks were sprawled. She gave him a slanted glance from the corner of her eye as he slowly opened the single textbook that he had brought with him.
Why here, of all places? She thought to herself.
As she tried her best to refocus her lesson on Noverbal Spellwork, she couldn't help the curiosity that peaked. She stole another glance at Malfoy, watching as he flipped through the pages with a vacant stare, his movements slow and distracted.
She contemplated her next moves carefully. Harry was under the impression that Draco had become a Death Eater—a sentiment that she and Ron almost laughed at. It just didn't seem possible. Why would the Dark Lord choose Malfoy, of all people, to become a Death Eater before he had even graduated from Hogwarts? It wasn't as if he were some impressive Wizard. He spent majority of his time finding ways to annoy the trio instead of focusing on his studies. Aside from being the son of Lucius Malfoy, there was nothing on his resume that would qualify him to become an early recruit for the Death Eaters. Yet, still, Hermione knew that Harry's suspicions always possessed some sort of grounds for validity. She couldn't seem to fight off the urge to pry—to gather some sort of information from him while she had the rare opportunity to do so.
"What are you studying?" the words escaped from her lips before she had the chance to fully process it. Draco slowly turned to face Hermione with a grimace on his face. He looked taken aback as her eyes pierced his timidly.
"Are you talking to me?" he drawled. She nodded slowly, clearing her throat nervously.
"Well, yeah," she responded. She could feel the disgust dripping from his words, and she tried her best not to seem phased by it. She didn't exactly enjoy speaking to the boy who terrorized her for years on end, but she kept trying to convince herself that there was a bigger picture in all of this.
"And why is that?" he retorted.
"You're the one who sat over here," she spat back. "There's plenty of other spots that you could've chosen."
"I thought you'd be the last person to try to talk to me." He stood abruptly. "Looks like I was wrong."
As he stood to leave, she felt slight panic growing within her. They had clearly started off on the wrong foot, and she quickly thought of a way to salvage the situation.
"Wait," she blurted, surprising even herself.
He paused, barely turning his head.
"It's just… I've been stuck on this passage on Noverbal Spellwork, and I remember that you did very well on it in class the other day."
Draco scoffed, but it wasn't with the same venom. "And you're seeking my help, Granger?"
She shrugged, eyes back on her textbook. "I guess so."
Something in her tone made him hesitate. And after a long pause, he sat back down — wordless, but less guarded.
"What exactly do you need help with?" he asked. It was clear that he was thrown off by the fact that the smartest Witch in the class was seeking counsel from her nemesis.
As she turned her textbook toward him, she came up with something clever to inquire about. They spent a few moments going back and forth about the previous lesson and the proper technique required to cast numerous charms. Even though Hermione was well aware of what was required, she feigned ignorance to keep the rouse going. She couldn't help the curious glances that students were throwing in their direction as they watched the two appearing to have a pleasant conversation with one another. Well—as pleasant as a conversation between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy could be.
Hermione contemplated the thought. Was this the first nonvenomous conversation that the two had ever had?
"Does that make sense?" he pondered, snapping her out of her own thoughts. She cleared her throat again and nodded.
"Yes, it does," she expressed, even though she didn't hear what he said. He looked her up and down before nodding once.
"Very well, then," he acknowledged, almost as if he was disengaging from further conversation with her. He turned his blank attention back toward his textbook without a word more. She chewed at her bottom lip, unsure why his silence unsettled her more than his usual arrogance ever did.
"If I continue struggling with this, do you think I could come to you for more help?" she wondered curiously. She was trying to find an entrance point. She knew Draco wouldn't be the type to let her in immediately, but if she could establish some sort of mutual understanding with him, maybe… just maybe… this could work. He turned to her with his brows furrowed.
"Isn't there anyone else in the world that you could ask rather than me? I'm sure you could think of someone," he responded. She cursed him mentally, scoffing at his forwardness.
"This is true," she agreed. "However, and I hate to admit this, but I think you might have the concept down more than anyone else in the class. If I were to seek help from anyone, it would probably have to be from you."
He sighed heavily as he closed his eyes briefly. She eyed him with suspicion as he took his exaggerated pause before making direct eye contact with her.
"I've been very busy lately. It might be difficult for me to find time for tutoring," he admitted. She raised her eyebrow slightly. Harry made her and Ron aware that he had quit the Quidditch team, which was usually something that took up a lot of extra time for students outside of classes. With his schedule clear of those obligations, what else could he be so preoccupied with? Her curiosity continued to grow.
"I won't be much of a bother. Just a few questions here and there," she pressed. He studied her face inquisitively for any sign of deception, and she hoped that she was doing her best to conceal it. After a moment, he nodded.
"I guess that's okay," he said lowly. She smiled internally, feeling triumphant in her pursuit to break past his hard exterior. She just hoped that her efforts would reap some sort of benefit that could assist Harry in some way. She hoped that this wouldn't be for nothing.
"Thank you," she breathed, offering him a handshake. She couldn't believe what was playing out in front of her. Was this moment even real? He stared down at her hand with squinted eyes before resting them back on her face.
"You're not trying to hex me, are you? I won't turn into a ferret if I touch you, will I?" he inquired. She almost chuckled. That would have been a great idea if she weren't so focused on earning some sort of trust from him.
"Of course not," she responded. He hesitantly shook her hand before removing his touch quickly from her grasp.
"I'll see you around," she expressed before swiftly collecting her things and heading toward the exit of The Great Hall. She paused briefly before leaving and turned slightly to face him. She noticed that his eyes trailed after her, much as hers did when he had first entered. She gave him a small smile before exiting.
Author's Note: Alright, so I have a couple ideas for where I want this short story to go, but I'd love to hear some thoughts before I continue. Please leave me some reviews and let me know if I should keep going with this!