DUET 4: looneylunafan and darkcivet
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Title:Worth Pursuing
Author: LooneyLunaFan
Rating:G
Word Count:3918
Summary:In life we discover things that we want may not always be right for us. We are told so by our friends, by our family, and by those around us who don’t really know us at all. Eventually we believe them, believe that some things, no matter how enticing, are not worth pursuing. He is. She is. And eventually they will realize it.
Warnings: None
Author's Note(s): As usual, I’m running short on time, so I’ll make this quick. To my Beta - YOU ARE ASTOUNDING! Thank you for the late night turnarounds. To the mod - Thank you for being so patient when I needed an extension… And then another. And finally to my duet partner - I hope it’s what you were looking for. Your prompt of “The Thrill is in the Chase” really made me excited. I hope my interpretation was not too loose. And thank you to all who read. Please enjoy!
Before their 4th year
The sweltering heat of July kept the Granger family indoors enjoying their dinner in the presence of air conditioning. After a few minutes of quiet eating passed, Mr. Granger smiled at his daughter. “So pumpkin, are there any boys at school who have caught your eye?”
Hermione blushed furiously and stared down at her mashed spuds. There was one boy who seemed to get her riled up in a way she couldn’t describe despite the fact that he mocked her incessantly and belittled her best friends. There was the satisfying slap a few months ago that somewhat made up for it though. In a way he had caught her eye, but she wouldn’t admit it, not even to her Muggle parents.
“If you’re talking about Ron and Harry, Dad, then no. They are my best friends, and that is all.” Hermione hoped that would put an end to the boy talk. She noted that her mother gave something of a half smirk toward her father, all too reminiscent of the boy Hermione was picturing. Hermione stabbed her green beans as though they were the very cause of her misfortune and the uncomfortable topic.
Mrs. Granger smiled down at her daughter. “Give it time dear. Soon you’ll find someone you won’t be able to stop thinking about.”
“But remember to keep up your studies,” her father cut in quickly. “You’re such a bright young girl. Don’t go throwing away your education for a boy.” Everyone at the table chuckled and continued eating. Hermione knew there wasn’t a chance in the world that Draco Malfoy would even hold a conversation with her, much less prove some sort of distraction.
~~~~~
“Draco,” the boy’s grandfather wheezed through nearly century’s old teeth. “When will you be finding yourself a young girl to marry?”
“Really, Abraxas,” Narcissa Malfoy chided, “he’s just turned fourteen.” Draco’s mother was both doting and protective. Certainly no woman would cross the threshold of Malfoy Manor, much less date her burgeoning son, without her strict approval.
Abraxas chortled to himself and gave young Draco a piercing stare. “Fourteen isn’t so young when you think on it. It is in the chase that lies the thrill, not the capture. Certainly my youngest and only heir to the Malfoy line will soon find himself a woman worth pursuing.”
In an unusual turn of events at the dinner table, all eyes focused on Draco, and all mouths were tightly closed. Draco glanced from his mother to his father to his grandfather before smirking minimally. “If the thrill were in the chase rather than the capture, Quidditch wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable.”
The Malfoys assembled all laughed, and the adults pursued topics that left Draco to his thinking. There wasn’t a possibility in Arthur’s kingdom and Merlin’s power that he and the young, intelligent witch he fancied could ever be more than enemies that squabbled while passing in the corridor. Between her blood status, her pretentious halfwit friends, and his pejorative family, there was no way he could get within ten feet of her unless to fire a hex. No, he and Hermione Granger had a very solid line drawn between them, and that was the end of the conversation.
5th year
After the Welcome Back Feast and introduction of new staff, including Dolores Umbridge as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, the students of Hogwarts scuttled off to their respective dormitories. High in the Gryffindor tower, some of the 5th year girls were unpacking their trunks and chatting quickly, only somewhat satisfied by the conversation already had on the day-long train ride.
“Padma and I were able to travel to visit family this summer,” Parvati said, tucking a journal into her nightstand.
Lavender, almost always looking for new prospects, inquired, “Did you meet anyone good looking?”
Parvati’s cheeks turned pink. “I don’t generally look to date my cousins, Lavender. Besides, I’m still writing to Laurent.”
“Oh are you?” Lavender faked surprise and let out a shrill giggle before flopping down on her bed. “And here I thought you might want to give Harry or Ron a second chance.”
A visible shudder ran through Parvati. “Oh please. Harry is likely still pining for Cho Chang, although I doubt she is going to feel up to dating still, poor thing.” They were both quiet for a moment as they thought about Cedric’s untimely death.
“Not to mention he’s a raving lunatic,” Lavender muttered, finally breaking the silence. “And Ron?”
Parvati was brought back from her thoughts. “Oh, you and I both know Ron is reserved for Hermione.”
Lavender pondered that for a moment. “Do you think they will ever be together though? I mean they’ve been friends so long and nothing has happened.”
“Give her some time.” Pavarti tossed her pillow over at the unsuspecting dorm mate. Lavender flailed as the cushion made direct contact with her face. “Not everyone sets a personal snogging record in third year. I would bet she likes him though.”
The door to the room was pushed open and the Prefect herself walked in and surveyed the room. “Good, we’re all back. Cecilia and Gwen are down in the common room.” As she shut the door behind her, Lavender and Parvati simultaneously glided over, invading her personal space. “Uhm… Can I help you, girls?”
“Yes, you can,” Lavender began.
“We were just discussing boys,” Pavarti explained.
Well that’s nothing new, Hermione thought. Her face remained blank.
“Do you fancy Ronald?” Lavender blurted out.
Hermione waited for more. That couldn’t have been the entirety of their conversation, could it? Realizing they weren’t going to say anything else, she delicately crafted an answer. “Well, he’s a very good friend.”
“We know, we know, but do you fancy him?”
“No,” Hermione admitted. There was a sparkle in Lavender’s eye that Hermione missed due to looking past the girls for her bed. “Now, I do need to unpack - ”
“Are you still dating Viktor Krum?” Pavarti asked, following Hermione over to her trunk while Lavender reclaimed her spot on her four poster.
A smile crept across Hermione’s face. “No, we write letters, but I don’t think anything will happen there.”
“Well who are you attracted to then?”
There it was, that question. It was much easier when professors and peers inquired about Potions and wand movements. They were easily memorized and didn’t shock anyone. Hermione cleared her throat as she sifted through the books she had gathered in her arms. “I guess no one,” she finally offered. It was easier to lie than admit the impossible. Before either of her dorm mates could probe further, Hermione redirected by asking, “Did you girls buy any new clothes for the year?”
Lavender and Pavarti both ran to their wardrobes and began laying out their summer shopping. Although Hermione understood very little about fashion, it was a much safer topic than Draco Malfoy.
~~~~~
Down in the dungeons, a similar scene unfolded. Malfoy had been the first to enter the room in order to claim his favourite bed, not caring if the first years found their way or not. The other fifth year boys soon followed but didn’t do much to unpack, with the exception of Blaise Zabini who maintained meticulous perfection in his portion of the room, as far as possible from the slobs Crabbe and Goyle.
There was no celebration and little conversation, which left Draco some time to think. All Pansy and many of the younger Slytherins could talk about on the train was the smear campaign The Prophet had going against Potter. Those few who knew the truth about the Dark Lord’s return were likely glad their parents weren’t being suspected or implicated in any way. Everyone else was having a delightful go of it.
“Hey Draco,” Goyle started suddenly, dumping a pile of candy wrappers from his pocket on to the floor. Draco only turned his head because Goyle so rarely began a conversation. “Do you suppose You-Know-Who will do something big this year? Do you think he will release Slytherin’s monster or something?” He really was quite thick, and Draco considered not responding for a moment. Glancing around he knew Crabbe wouldn’t say much and even though Blaise didn’t have familial connection to You-Know-Who, he was the most discrete individual at the school. Even now he flicked to the next page of his book as though no one had spoken.
“Goyle, if I knew what You-Know-Who were planning to do, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be at this school now. And if you don’t keep your mouth shut, you certainly won’t be.” Some days he hated that he had ever made acquaintances with these two. Then he couldn’t imagine the trouble they would cause for themselves if he ever left them to their own devices.
Even though Goyle had been chastised, Crabbe continued the thought from his splayed state on his bed. “Probably go after the Mudbloods.” The word always held a clear and unspoken implication that Hermione Granger was the first of the targets. A nearly imperceptible muscle spasm at the corner of Draco’s mouth would have given away that he gave a care had he not been busy pulling out his Potions supplies for the next day. “Probably hang them upside down like they did at the Quidditch Cup last year.”
The memory flashed in Draco’s mind faster than he could tamp it down: the Death Eaters, the Muggles, the Gryffindor trio, and Hermione. He had told them to run, to hide her. Of course, there wasn’t time to unwind his insult as care. Now, all he could imagine was her getting caught by one of the Death Eaters who felt empowered by the Dark Lord’s return or, worse, the two idiots inhabiting his room. The tension in Draco’s arms caused the metal to scrape across the stone floor of the dormitory and thick silence followed.
“Do you two trolls honestly believe that the top of You-Know-Who’s to-do list is to hang Muggles in the air by the ankles?” He quickly masked his anger with disgust. “I swear, if you two are ever in a meeting, you had best hope you keep your mouths shut or he may just decide you aren’t worth the space you take up.” He rolled his eyes and took to his bed, signalling that he would not be entertaining any more of their ridiculous notions.
Crabbe and Goyle looked at one another before changing into their sleepwear. Blaise turned another page in his book. Draco eventually fell asleep to the thought of what he would ever do if he knew Hermione was in danger. Sooner or later he would have to make that call.
6th year
Hermione sat at the desk in Ginny’s room penning what was certain to be a long letter to her parents. Her OWL results had arrived. Although she knew her parents wouldn’t much understand the grades, she had tried comparing Potions to chemistry and Herbology to gardening, they would be delighted to know she had done so well. They had told her repeatedly that she had been too hard on herself and that she had probably done just fine. It wasn’t until she had seen the marks on the parchment in her fingers than she had felt any relief. Her parents would be glad to know that they were right again.
As Hermione opened the window for Pig to fly the thick envelope to London, Ginny walked through the door and sat on her bed. “It’s exciting, this stage of the exams? I suppose you were having fun while they were going on.”
A slight smirk formed on Hermione’s lips. “Remember that we had that troll of an instructor last year for Defence. If Harry hadn’t agreed to teach, I would have earned an A at best.” Ginny gave the same disbelieving snicker most did when Hermione admitted to worrying about grades, something she appeared to have no problem with. “Exciting how though?”
Staring up at her ceiling Ginny mused, “You can start thinking about what you really want to do now. You know what NEWTs you’ll be taking and what job you could have after. Although based on your results, I suppose the options are a bit overwhelming.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Hermione admitted still staring off in the direction Pig had flown. She had always thought there was a very direct path for her to take. It involved as many classes and the thickest books possible. School would be over soon if You-Know-Who didn’t interfere with it. There were so many possibilities before her, and she would need to choose just what to do. “I guess I can’t tag along with Harry and Ron forever, can I?”
“Well I didn’t say that. You might be producing a dozen red-headed book-worms one day.” Ginny covered her belly as she laughed. Hermione smiled knowing that sooner or later, later if Ron continued to be so oblivious, she and he would probably give it a go. At least that wasn’t something that needed much pondering or deciding. It seemed the world had made choices for her, and they were safe.
~~~~~
A light grey owl swooped into the open drawing room window, deposited an official looking envelope on the small table beside the stuffed chair Draco sat in while reading, and flew away without a sound. His eyes continued to glide down the passage as he ignored what he knew to be his OWL results. There was nothing positive to be gained by knowing the contents of the letter. Yet as soon as he gave it enough recognition to form a full thought, he couldn’t help imagining how Hermione was reacting, probably dissatisfied with one or two E’s. The childishness of the act made him willing to put down his text and open the envelope.
There were no surprises on the page. He had earned an E in everything other than Care of Magical Creatures, which was an utter waste of a class hour. It would be a blessing not to have to bother with it any more. Considering the future, careers, there were actually several options before him, something other than inheriting the Malfoy estate and talking to other wealthy families. The cackle of his aunt brought Draco back to reality.
Bellatrix entered the room with her worried sister trailing not far behind. “Come with me, Draco,” she nearly hissed, though her mouth was twisted into a crazed smile. “The Dark Lord wishes to speak with you.” The delight on her gaunt features was only matched by his mother’s troubled expression. It had been several weeks since his father’s arrest. Though Draco had taken Lucius’ seat at the dinner table, the Dark Lord had avoided him all summer.
Draco was more careful to mask his worry than his mother, emptying his mind as his aunt had taught him as he approached the door. Without a final thought or care, he passed the parchment in his hand to Narcissa. If he lived through this meeting, he was positive he wouldn’t be wasting time chasing good grades or the bushy-haired Gryffindor he still held a small flame for any longer. Perhaps it was for the best they had never had a chance. She would not have been safe.
Five years later
Ministry functions were not anything new to Hermione. In the five years that followed the end of the war, she, Harry, and Ron had attended more benefit functions and memorials than she could care to count. What made tonight very different was the fact that Draco Malfoy, still one of the best looking men in the room, was at the centre of it, and in a pleasant way. As a higher ranking member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement she was obliged to attend, which she didn’t mind until she found a clear space between two wizards and accidentally made eye contact with the man of the hour.
Without intending to, Hermione completely left the celebration behind, strolling through a rattled collection of memories, flashes of Draco she had immortalized as a young girl with a crush. Side-long glances of him in class performing a new spell, only minutes after she had, muddled with a windswept blonde head on the Quidditch pitch. Her favourite was one she wasn’t sure was real, a look he had given her at the Yule Ball. It had been something between shock and awe, but she had been far too concerned with the attention Viktor had given her to really notice.
Booming laughter filled the space nearby and brought her from her reverie. “It’s not worth the effort,” she mumbled to herself, casting her eyes around the room for a distraction. Harry and Ron should have been around there somewhere. Of course she would look for them. They were safe. They were who everyone expected her to be next to. But when she was painfully honest with herself, painful to the point that even now her eyes misted over, those two men she had grown up with would not make her happy, and they didn’t need her.
Eventually she found them, arms wrapped around Ginny and Lavender, charismatically going back and forth in telling a story with the head of the Auror department. Hermione felt what she had for some time now, that she really was alone, even when she was surrounded by such a large group. Without interrupting, she moved further away, toward the balcony, to be alone with her thoughts.
How was it that she, so called “Brightest Witch of our Age,” was so remarkably weak when it came to doing what was right for her? She crossed her arms even though the warm summer night posed no chill. She found herself in the same internal argument that cropped up when she read a comment in The Prophet questioning what was wrong with her that she was still single or had more than a glass of wine alone. What if she simply said “be damned” with it all, shocked everyone by leaving the country or dating whomever she pleased? You’d be rejected. You’d come home. You’d be embarrassed. Failure wasn’t the problem, it never had been. The problem was a part of her, a part greater than she cared to admit, needed the acceptance of others. It was the reason she had earned high marks in school, to please her parents, professors, and friends, and to fill the role she knew was hers. Facing Voldemort was a greater manifestation of the same need to succeed where she was expected to. “No one would want me to succeed with him.”
After a minute of watching the wind carry her solemn words into the trees in the gigantic courtyard, she decided it was time to leave. She couldn’t be seen acting so morose on an evening like this one. With renewed conviction she turned around and found herself face to chest with the object of her suffering. “Evening, Granger.”
~~~~~
Ministry functions were becoming the bane of Draco’s existence. This one was particularly unbearable as it focused primarily on the foreign connections made by himself and Blaise on behalf of their company in conjunction with the International Relations department. As a result, everyone wanted a handshake, a comment, or a photograph. Bulb flashes were dancing in front of his eyes even after he excused himself from an enthusiastic group of up and coming Ministry workers who had just graduated from Hogwarts, recently finished with rebuilding and renovations.
For the third or fourth time that evening he had caught sight of Hermione. Every time she had been looking at something else just to one side of him, but it was unmistakable that she had been looking right at him a moment ago. Before he could talk himself out of it, he made to follow her, but she was gone.
“Oh, Draco, there you are!” Pansy Parkinson was somehow latched on to his arm despite the fact that he hadn’t been this close to her in the last year. “I was hoping to run into you. It’s been so long!” Her voice was its usual annoying pitch, but she leaned on him more heavily than usual. Draco suspected alcohol and looked down at her with a mix of pity and dislike.
Truth be told, Pansy had always been there for him, even when he was standing trial with his parents. Despite his faults, she had believed in him. Or his money. As she stood there now vying for his attention, he knew it would be the easiest thing in the world to drag her around for a bit before heading home with her. Depending on her mood, she would either take a guest room or demand to accompany him to bed. It was a pattern he was quite familiar with. Familiar, yet dissatisfied.
“I’m sorry, Pansy, but I need to speak with someone.” Very gently Draco extricated himself from her grip and held her by her shoulders. “You should get to bed, I think.” He made eye contact with one of the new kids he had just been talking with and jerked his head, indicating the young man should join them. “This is Allen, Pansy. He’ll see that you get home safe.”
Pansy huffed in irritation but conceded to being led away. One last glance in her direction told Draco that she was perfectly comfortable leaning on the shoulder of a stranger. However her distraction had given Hermione time to make it to the roof or the gardens. He quickly wove through the room and surmised she was not inside. Feeling warm, perhaps from the close proximity to the party goers and perhaps from frustration, Draco stepped into the open air provided by the balcony. Noticing the pretty figure near the railing, he thought for the first time in his life that he was remarkably lucky.
As usual, Hermione looked stunning in her simple way, glowing faintly in the moonlight. Draco considered turning around a final time, but his feet silently carried him to just two steps behind her. Whatever greeting he was planning to startle her with wouldn’t form before she turned around, eyebrows raised as recognition washed over her.
“I - erm. Good evening, Draco.” She had the persistence to look him in the eye after her initial shock wore off.
“Hermione.” They had never been in a situation where it was appropriate to call one another by given names before. Draco quite liked the new sensation and continued. “Are you feeling well? Why aren’t you inside?”
One of Hermione’s eyebrows twitched as she concentrated on an answer. “I’m feeling fine. In fact, I probably should step back in. Congratulations on the business deal.” She glanced quickly to the open door behind him and made a decision. “It was nice to see you.” Taking a step to the side, Hermione manoeuvred around him and headed back to the noise of the party.
Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Draco could have sworn he saw her blush. A self-satisfied half smile formed on his lips as the words of his grandfather came back to him. “That is a woman worth pursuing.” It wouldn’t be that night and maybe not the next month, but sooner or later he would make it abundantly clear to Hermione Granger that he had every intention of making her see him the same way he had always seen her: forbidden yet inviting.
Title:Worth Pursuing
Author: LooneyLunaFan
Rating:G
Word Count:3918
Summary:In life we discover things that we want may not always be right for us. We are told so by our friends, by our family, and by those around us who don’t really know us at all. Eventually we believe them, believe that some things, no matter how enticing, are not worth pursuing. He is. She is. And eventually they will realize it.
Warnings: None
Author's Note(s): As usual, I’m running short on time, so I’ll make this quick. To my Beta - YOU ARE ASTOUNDING! Thank you for the late night turnarounds. To the mod - Thank you for being so patient when I needed an extension… And then another. And finally to my duet partner - I hope it’s what you were looking for. Your prompt of “The Thrill is in the Chase” really made me excited. I hope my interpretation was not too loose. And thank you to all who read. Please enjoy!
Before their 4th year
The sweltering heat of July kept the Granger family indoors enjoying their dinner in the presence of air conditioning. After a few minutes of quiet eating passed, Mr. Granger smiled at his daughter. “So pumpkin, are there any boys at school who have caught your eye?”
Hermione blushed furiously and stared down at her mashed spuds. There was one boy who seemed to get her riled up in a way she couldn’t describe despite the fact that he mocked her incessantly and belittled her best friends. There was the satisfying slap a few months ago that somewhat made up for it though. In a way he had caught her eye, but she wouldn’t admit it, not even to her Muggle parents.
“If you’re talking about Ron and Harry, Dad, then no. They are my best friends, and that is all.” Hermione hoped that would put an end to the boy talk. She noted that her mother gave something of a half smirk toward her father, all too reminiscent of the boy Hermione was picturing. Hermione stabbed her green beans as though they were the very cause of her misfortune and the uncomfortable topic.
Mrs. Granger smiled down at her daughter. “Give it time dear. Soon you’ll find someone you won’t be able to stop thinking about.”
“But remember to keep up your studies,” her father cut in quickly. “You’re such a bright young girl. Don’t go throwing away your education for a boy.” Everyone at the table chuckled and continued eating. Hermione knew there wasn’t a chance in the world that Draco Malfoy would even hold a conversation with her, much less prove some sort of distraction.
~~~~~
“Draco,” the boy’s grandfather wheezed through nearly century’s old teeth. “When will you be finding yourself a young girl to marry?”
“Really, Abraxas,” Narcissa Malfoy chided, “he’s just turned fourteen.” Draco’s mother was both doting and protective. Certainly no woman would cross the threshold of Malfoy Manor, much less date her burgeoning son, without her strict approval.
Abraxas chortled to himself and gave young Draco a piercing stare. “Fourteen isn’t so young when you think on it. It is in the chase that lies the thrill, not the capture. Certainly my youngest and only heir to the Malfoy line will soon find himself a woman worth pursuing.”
In an unusual turn of events at the dinner table, all eyes focused on Draco, and all mouths were tightly closed. Draco glanced from his mother to his father to his grandfather before smirking minimally. “If the thrill were in the chase rather than the capture, Quidditch wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable.”
The Malfoys assembled all laughed, and the adults pursued topics that left Draco to his thinking. There wasn’t a possibility in Arthur’s kingdom and Merlin’s power that he and the young, intelligent witch he fancied could ever be more than enemies that squabbled while passing in the corridor. Between her blood status, her pretentious halfwit friends, and his pejorative family, there was no way he could get within ten feet of her unless to fire a hex. No, he and Hermione Granger had a very solid line drawn between them, and that was the end of the conversation.
5th year
After the Welcome Back Feast and introduction of new staff, including Dolores Umbridge as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, the students of Hogwarts scuttled off to their respective dormitories. High in the Gryffindor tower, some of the 5th year girls were unpacking their trunks and chatting quickly, only somewhat satisfied by the conversation already had on the day-long train ride.
“Padma and I were able to travel to visit family this summer,” Parvati said, tucking a journal into her nightstand.
Lavender, almost always looking for new prospects, inquired, “Did you meet anyone good looking?”
Parvati’s cheeks turned pink. “I don’t generally look to date my cousins, Lavender. Besides, I’m still writing to Laurent.”
“Oh are you?” Lavender faked surprise and let out a shrill giggle before flopping down on her bed. “And here I thought you might want to give Harry or Ron a second chance.”
A visible shudder ran through Parvati. “Oh please. Harry is likely still pining for Cho Chang, although I doubt she is going to feel up to dating still, poor thing.” They were both quiet for a moment as they thought about Cedric’s untimely death.
“Not to mention he’s a raving lunatic,” Lavender muttered, finally breaking the silence. “And Ron?”
Parvati was brought back from her thoughts. “Oh, you and I both know Ron is reserved for Hermione.”
Lavender pondered that for a moment. “Do you think they will ever be together though? I mean they’ve been friends so long and nothing has happened.”
“Give her some time.” Pavarti tossed her pillow over at the unsuspecting dorm mate. Lavender flailed as the cushion made direct contact with her face. “Not everyone sets a personal snogging record in third year. I would bet she likes him though.”
The door to the room was pushed open and the Prefect herself walked in and surveyed the room. “Good, we’re all back. Cecilia and Gwen are down in the common room.” As she shut the door behind her, Lavender and Parvati simultaneously glided over, invading her personal space. “Uhm… Can I help you, girls?”
“Yes, you can,” Lavender began.
“We were just discussing boys,” Pavarti explained.
Well that’s nothing new, Hermione thought. Her face remained blank.
“Do you fancy Ronald?” Lavender blurted out.
Hermione waited for more. That couldn’t have been the entirety of their conversation, could it? Realizing they weren’t going to say anything else, she delicately crafted an answer. “Well, he’s a very good friend.”
“We know, we know, but do you fancy him?”
“No,” Hermione admitted. There was a sparkle in Lavender’s eye that Hermione missed due to looking past the girls for her bed. “Now, I do need to unpack - ”
“Are you still dating Viktor Krum?” Pavarti asked, following Hermione over to her trunk while Lavender reclaimed her spot on her four poster.
A smile crept across Hermione’s face. “No, we write letters, but I don’t think anything will happen there.”
“Well who are you attracted to then?”
There it was, that question. It was much easier when professors and peers inquired about Potions and wand movements. They were easily memorized and didn’t shock anyone. Hermione cleared her throat as she sifted through the books she had gathered in her arms. “I guess no one,” she finally offered. It was easier to lie than admit the impossible. Before either of her dorm mates could probe further, Hermione redirected by asking, “Did you girls buy any new clothes for the year?”
Lavender and Pavarti both ran to their wardrobes and began laying out their summer shopping. Although Hermione understood very little about fashion, it was a much safer topic than Draco Malfoy.
~~~~~
Down in the dungeons, a similar scene unfolded. Malfoy had been the first to enter the room in order to claim his favourite bed, not caring if the first years found their way or not. The other fifth year boys soon followed but didn’t do much to unpack, with the exception of Blaise Zabini who maintained meticulous perfection in his portion of the room, as far as possible from the slobs Crabbe and Goyle.
There was no celebration and little conversation, which left Draco some time to think. All Pansy and many of the younger Slytherins could talk about on the train was the smear campaign The Prophet had going against Potter. Those few who knew the truth about the Dark Lord’s return were likely glad their parents weren’t being suspected or implicated in any way. Everyone else was having a delightful go of it.
“Hey Draco,” Goyle started suddenly, dumping a pile of candy wrappers from his pocket on to the floor. Draco only turned his head because Goyle so rarely began a conversation. “Do you suppose You-Know-Who will do something big this year? Do you think he will release Slytherin’s monster or something?” He really was quite thick, and Draco considered not responding for a moment. Glancing around he knew Crabbe wouldn’t say much and even though Blaise didn’t have familial connection to You-Know-Who, he was the most discrete individual at the school. Even now he flicked to the next page of his book as though no one had spoken.
“Goyle, if I knew what You-Know-Who were planning to do, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be at this school now. And if you don’t keep your mouth shut, you certainly won’t be.” Some days he hated that he had ever made acquaintances with these two. Then he couldn’t imagine the trouble they would cause for themselves if he ever left them to their own devices.
Even though Goyle had been chastised, Crabbe continued the thought from his splayed state on his bed. “Probably go after the Mudbloods.” The word always held a clear and unspoken implication that Hermione Granger was the first of the targets. A nearly imperceptible muscle spasm at the corner of Draco’s mouth would have given away that he gave a care had he not been busy pulling out his Potions supplies for the next day. “Probably hang them upside down like they did at the Quidditch Cup last year.”
The memory flashed in Draco’s mind faster than he could tamp it down: the Death Eaters, the Muggles, the Gryffindor trio, and Hermione. He had told them to run, to hide her. Of course, there wasn’t time to unwind his insult as care. Now, all he could imagine was her getting caught by one of the Death Eaters who felt empowered by the Dark Lord’s return or, worse, the two idiots inhabiting his room. The tension in Draco’s arms caused the metal to scrape across the stone floor of the dormitory and thick silence followed.
“Do you two trolls honestly believe that the top of You-Know-Who’s to-do list is to hang Muggles in the air by the ankles?” He quickly masked his anger with disgust. “I swear, if you two are ever in a meeting, you had best hope you keep your mouths shut or he may just decide you aren’t worth the space you take up.” He rolled his eyes and took to his bed, signalling that he would not be entertaining any more of their ridiculous notions.
Crabbe and Goyle looked at one another before changing into their sleepwear. Blaise turned another page in his book. Draco eventually fell asleep to the thought of what he would ever do if he knew Hermione was in danger. Sooner or later he would have to make that call.
6th year
Hermione sat at the desk in Ginny’s room penning what was certain to be a long letter to her parents. Her OWL results had arrived. Although she knew her parents wouldn’t much understand the grades, she had tried comparing Potions to chemistry and Herbology to gardening, they would be delighted to know she had done so well. They had told her repeatedly that she had been too hard on herself and that she had probably done just fine. It wasn’t until she had seen the marks on the parchment in her fingers than she had felt any relief. Her parents would be glad to know that they were right again.
As Hermione opened the window for Pig to fly the thick envelope to London, Ginny walked through the door and sat on her bed. “It’s exciting, this stage of the exams? I suppose you were having fun while they were going on.”
A slight smirk formed on Hermione’s lips. “Remember that we had that troll of an instructor last year for Defence. If Harry hadn’t agreed to teach, I would have earned an A at best.” Ginny gave the same disbelieving snicker most did when Hermione admitted to worrying about grades, something she appeared to have no problem with. “Exciting how though?”
Staring up at her ceiling Ginny mused, “You can start thinking about what you really want to do now. You know what NEWTs you’ll be taking and what job you could have after. Although based on your results, I suppose the options are a bit overwhelming.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Hermione admitted still staring off in the direction Pig had flown. She had always thought there was a very direct path for her to take. It involved as many classes and the thickest books possible. School would be over soon if You-Know-Who didn’t interfere with it. There were so many possibilities before her, and she would need to choose just what to do. “I guess I can’t tag along with Harry and Ron forever, can I?”
“Well I didn’t say that. You might be producing a dozen red-headed book-worms one day.” Ginny covered her belly as she laughed. Hermione smiled knowing that sooner or later, later if Ron continued to be so oblivious, she and he would probably give it a go. At least that wasn’t something that needed much pondering or deciding. It seemed the world had made choices for her, and they were safe.
~~~~~
A light grey owl swooped into the open drawing room window, deposited an official looking envelope on the small table beside the stuffed chair Draco sat in while reading, and flew away without a sound. His eyes continued to glide down the passage as he ignored what he knew to be his OWL results. There was nothing positive to be gained by knowing the contents of the letter. Yet as soon as he gave it enough recognition to form a full thought, he couldn’t help imagining how Hermione was reacting, probably dissatisfied with one or two E’s. The childishness of the act made him willing to put down his text and open the envelope.
There were no surprises on the page. He had earned an E in everything other than Care of Magical Creatures, which was an utter waste of a class hour. It would be a blessing not to have to bother with it any more. Considering the future, careers, there were actually several options before him, something other than inheriting the Malfoy estate and talking to other wealthy families. The cackle of his aunt brought Draco back to reality.
Bellatrix entered the room with her worried sister trailing not far behind. “Come with me, Draco,” she nearly hissed, though her mouth was twisted into a crazed smile. “The Dark Lord wishes to speak with you.” The delight on her gaunt features was only matched by his mother’s troubled expression. It had been several weeks since his father’s arrest. Though Draco had taken Lucius’ seat at the dinner table, the Dark Lord had avoided him all summer.
Draco was more careful to mask his worry than his mother, emptying his mind as his aunt had taught him as he approached the door. Without a final thought or care, he passed the parchment in his hand to Narcissa. If he lived through this meeting, he was positive he wouldn’t be wasting time chasing good grades or the bushy-haired Gryffindor he still held a small flame for any longer. Perhaps it was for the best they had never had a chance. She would not have been safe.
Five years later
Ministry functions were not anything new to Hermione. In the five years that followed the end of the war, she, Harry, and Ron had attended more benefit functions and memorials than she could care to count. What made tonight very different was the fact that Draco Malfoy, still one of the best looking men in the room, was at the centre of it, and in a pleasant way. As a higher ranking member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement she was obliged to attend, which she didn’t mind until she found a clear space between two wizards and accidentally made eye contact with the man of the hour.
Without intending to, Hermione completely left the celebration behind, strolling through a rattled collection of memories, flashes of Draco she had immortalized as a young girl with a crush. Side-long glances of him in class performing a new spell, only minutes after she had, muddled with a windswept blonde head on the Quidditch pitch. Her favourite was one she wasn’t sure was real, a look he had given her at the Yule Ball. It had been something between shock and awe, but she had been far too concerned with the attention Viktor had given her to really notice.
Booming laughter filled the space nearby and brought her from her reverie. “It’s not worth the effort,” she mumbled to herself, casting her eyes around the room for a distraction. Harry and Ron should have been around there somewhere. Of course she would look for them. They were safe. They were who everyone expected her to be next to. But when she was painfully honest with herself, painful to the point that even now her eyes misted over, those two men she had grown up with would not make her happy, and they didn’t need her.
Eventually she found them, arms wrapped around Ginny and Lavender, charismatically going back and forth in telling a story with the head of the Auror department. Hermione felt what she had for some time now, that she really was alone, even when she was surrounded by such a large group. Without interrupting, she moved further away, toward the balcony, to be alone with her thoughts.
How was it that she, so called “Brightest Witch of our Age,” was so remarkably weak when it came to doing what was right for her? She crossed her arms even though the warm summer night posed no chill. She found herself in the same internal argument that cropped up when she read a comment in The Prophet questioning what was wrong with her that she was still single or had more than a glass of wine alone. What if she simply said “be damned” with it all, shocked everyone by leaving the country or dating whomever she pleased? You’d be rejected. You’d come home. You’d be embarrassed. Failure wasn’t the problem, it never had been. The problem was a part of her, a part greater than she cared to admit, needed the acceptance of others. It was the reason she had earned high marks in school, to please her parents, professors, and friends, and to fill the role she knew was hers. Facing Voldemort was a greater manifestation of the same need to succeed where she was expected to. “No one would want me to succeed with him.”
After a minute of watching the wind carry her solemn words into the trees in the gigantic courtyard, she decided it was time to leave. She couldn’t be seen acting so morose on an evening like this one. With renewed conviction she turned around and found herself face to chest with the object of her suffering. “Evening, Granger.”
~~~~~
Ministry functions were becoming the bane of Draco’s existence. This one was particularly unbearable as it focused primarily on the foreign connections made by himself and Blaise on behalf of their company in conjunction with the International Relations department. As a result, everyone wanted a handshake, a comment, or a photograph. Bulb flashes were dancing in front of his eyes even after he excused himself from an enthusiastic group of up and coming Ministry workers who had just graduated from Hogwarts, recently finished with rebuilding and renovations.
For the third or fourth time that evening he had caught sight of Hermione. Every time she had been looking at something else just to one side of him, but it was unmistakable that she had been looking right at him a moment ago. Before he could talk himself out of it, he made to follow her, but she was gone.
“Oh, Draco, there you are!” Pansy Parkinson was somehow latched on to his arm despite the fact that he hadn’t been this close to her in the last year. “I was hoping to run into you. It’s been so long!” Her voice was its usual annoying pitch, but she leaned on him more heavily than usual. Draco suspected alcohol and looked down at her with a mix of pity and dislike.
Truth be told, Pansy had always been there for him, even when he was standing trial with his parents. Despite his faults, she had believed in him. Or his money. As she stood there now vying for his attention, he knew it would be the easiest thing in the world to drag her around for a bit before heading home with her. Depending on her mood, she would either take a guest room or demand to accompany him to bed. It was a pattern he was quite familiar with. Familiar, yet dissatisfied.
“I’m sorry, Pansy, but I need to speak with someone.” Very gently Draco extricated himself from her grip and held her by her shoulders. “You should get to bed, I think.” He made eye contact with one of the new kids he had just been talking with and jerked his head, indicating the young man should join them. “This is Allen, Pansy. He’ll see that you get home safe.”
Pansy huffed in irritation but conceded to being led away. One last glance in her direction told Draco that she was perfectly comfortable leaning on the shoulder of a stranger. However her distraction had given Hermione time to make it to the roof or the gardens. He quickly wove through the room and surmised she was not inside. Feeling warm, perhaps from the close proximity to the party goers and perhaps from frustration, Draco stepped into the open air provided by the balcony. Noticing the pretty figure near the railing, he thought for the first time in his life that he was remarkably lucky.
As usual, Hermione looked stunning in her simple way, glowing faintly in the moonlight. Draco considered turning around a final time, but his feet silently carried him to just two steps behind her. Whatever greeting he was planning to startle her with wouldn’t form before she turned around, eyebrows raised as recognition washed over her.
“I - erm. Good evening, Draco.” She had the persistence to look him in the eye after her initial shock wore off.
“Hermione.” They had never been in a situation where it was appropriate to call one another by given names before. Draco quite liked the new sensation and continued. “Are you feeling well? Why aren’t you inside?”
One of Hermione’s eyebrows twitched as she concentrated on an answer. “I’m feeling fine. In fact, I probably should step back in. Congratulations on the business deal.” She glanced quickly to the open door behind him and made a decision. “It was nice to see you.” Taking a step to the side, Hermione manoeuvred around him and headed back to the noise of the party.
Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Draco could have sworn he saw her blush. A self-satisfied half smile formed on his lips as the words of his grandfather came back to him. “That is a woman worth pursuing.” It wouldn’t be that night and maybe not the next month, but sooner or later he would make it abundantly clear to Hermione Granger that he had every intention of making her see him the same way he had always seen her: forbidden yet inviting.