1 fic - challenge #75, "one small moment".
Title: And A Daisy-Covered Handkerchief
Rating/Warnings: PG
Characters/Pairing: Draco and Hermione, friendship. Maybe.
Summary: What if, when Malfoy was crying in the bathroom during Half-Blood Prince, Hermione was the one to find him instead?
Word Count: 691
Author's Notes: I wrote again. Sick of me yet?
Registered purchases?: Both registered.
“Hello?”
Draco Malfoy looks up from his position in front of a bathroom sink, startled to hear a female voice calling through the door to the men’s toilet. He can see himself in the mirror - eyes rimmed with red, blotchy neck, tearstained cheeks - and thinks he looks like a bloody wreck. He looks like absolute shit and he feels like absolute shit, and now there is apparently a girl just on the other side of the door who wants his attention. Just what he needs at the moment, really.
“Hello?” the girl’s voice calls again, a little more tentatively this time. The door pushes open just a little bit and a pair of curious brown eyes peer into the bathroom through the crack. “Is everything all right in here? I thought I heard…”
But now the door is open a little wider, and Hermione Granger is standing there, gaping at him.
Bloody hell.
Draco quickly drops his head, eyes trained on the floor as he leans against the sink with his back to her. The absolute last thing he needs right now is for Hermione Granger to find him blubbering like a baby.
“This isn’t the girl’s toilet, Mudblood,” he sneers with as much menace as he can manage, but it sounds a little weak to his own ears.
“I know that, Malfoy,” she retorts, but her voice isn’t as annoyed as it usually is whenever they have to speak to each other. Draco doesn’t know what that’s about, and he truly doesn’t want to. The last thing he wants to do is ponder the inner workings of Hermione Granger’s mind and emotions. He just keeps his head down and his back turned, and silently wills her to turn around and leave.
There are footsteps behind him, and then a hand reaches around to offer him a handkerchief. It’s white and embroidered with a little daisy in the corner, and if anyone else had been around, Malfoy would have knocked it to the floor. Instead, he takes it gingerly, as if he’s half expecting it to explode in his palm.
“I thought you might need it,” Hermione says quietly behind him, and Draco is surprised to feel something twist in his gut. Here is Hermione Granger, self-important know-it-all, teacher’s pet and Potter’s pal, a girl he has never once said anything remotely kind to over the years. He’s the weak one in this scenario; she has all the power and she would be able to crush him instantly if she chose to. And yet she isn’t teasing him, isn’t laughing in his face or ushering dozens of Gryffindors into the bathroom to gawk at the crying Malfoy; no, she’s offering him a goddamned daisy-embroidered hanky. If she didn’t seem so sincere, he’d have laughed at the absurdity of it all.
“Er,” he begins, his voice coming out as a croak. He pauses and coughs once, clearing his throat. Time to try this again. “Thanks, Hermione.”
It’s the first time he’s actually used her name, the first time he hasn’t called her Granger or Mudblood in the entire six years they’ve known each other, and he knows that she notices. She has to. She stays silent and still, and Draco doesn’t dare raise his eyes for fear of meeting hers in the mirror and seeing her pity. He may need a handkerchief, but he doesn’t need her pity. Malfoys are not to be pitied.
This is a moment they’ll never speak of again. Draco can already tell.
“You’re welcome,” she says finally, and he hears her take a small step back. He still hasn’t used her handkerchief, but he’ll be damned if he used a handkerchief emblazoned with a daisy where anyone can see him. “Just… feel better, okay?”
Draco nods once, and hears her footsteps retreat through the bathroom and back out into the corridor. Only then does he look up and watch the door softly swing shut, exhaling a long, slow breath. Perhaps… perhaps she isn’t as bad as he’s always thought, he briefly considers. And then he shakes his head, smiles to himself, and wipes his eyes.
end.
POINTS:
691 words / 30 = 23
+ 10 points (purchases) =
33 POINTS FOR HUFFLPUFF!
Janna/Hufflepuff
Rating/Warnings: PG
Characters/Pairing: Draco and Hermione, friendship. Maybe.
Summary: What if, when Malfoy was crying in the bathroom during Half-Blood Prince, Hermione was the one to find him instead?
Word Count: 691
Author's Notes: I wrote again. Sick of me yet?
Registered purchases?: Both registered.
“Hello?”
Draco Malfoy looks up from his position in front of a bathroom sink, startled to hear a female voice calling through the door to the men’s toilet. He can see himself in the mirror - eyes rimmed with red, blotchy neck, tearstained cheeks - and thinks he looks like a bloody wreck. He looks like absolute shit and he feels like absolute shit, and now there is apparently a girl just on the other side of the door who wants his attention. Just what he needs at the moment, really.
“Hello?” the girl’s voice calls again, a little more tentatively this time. The door pushes open just a little bit and a pair of curious brown eyes peer into the bathroom through the crack. “Is everything all right in here? I thought I heard…”
But now the door is open a little wider, and Hermione Granger is standing there, gaping at him.
Bloody hell.
Draco quickly drops his head, eyes trained on the floor as he leans against the sink with his back to her. The absolute last thing he needs right now is for Hermione Granger to find him blubbering like a baby.
“This isn’t the girl’s toilet, Mudblood,” he sneers with as much menace as he can manage, but it sounds a little weak to his own ears.
“I know that, Malfoy,” she retorts, but her voice isn’t as annoyed as it usually is whenever they have to speak to each other. Draco doesn’t know what that’s about, and he truly doesn’t want to. The last thing he wants to do is ponder the inner workings of Hermione Granger’s mind and emotions. He just keeps his head down and his back turned, and silently wills her to turn around and leave.
There are footsteps behind him, and then a hand reaches around to offer him a handkerchief. It’s white and embroidered with a little daisy in the corner, and if anyone else had been around, Malfoy would have knocked it to the floor. Instead, he takes it gingerly, as if he’s half expecting it to explode in his palm.
“I thought you might need it,” Hermione says quietly behind him, and Draco is surprised to feel something twist in his gut. Here is Hermione Granger, self-important know-it-all, teacher’s pet and Potter’s pal, a girl he has never once said anything remotely kind to over the years. He’s the weak one in this scenario; she has all the power and she would be able to crush him instantly if she chose to. And yet she isn’t teasing him, isn’t laughing in his face or ushering dozens of Gryffindors into the bathroom to gawk at the crying Malfoy; no, she’s offering him a goddamned daisy-embroidered hanky. If she didn’t seem so sincere, he’d have laughed at the absurdity of it all.
“Er,” he begins, his voice coming out as a croak. He pauses and coughs once, clearing his throat. Time to try this again. “Thanks, Hermione.”
It’s the first time he’s actually used her name, the first time he hasn’t called her Granger or Mudblood in the entire six years they’ve known each other, and he knows that she notices. She has to. She stays silent and still, and Draco doesn’t dare raise his eyes for fear of meeting hers in the mirror and seeing her pity. He may need a handkerchief, but he doesn’t need her pity. Malfoys are not to be pitied.
This is a moment they’ll never speak of again. Draco can already tell.
“You’re welcome,” she says finally, and he hears her take a small step back. He still hasn’t used her handkerchief, but he’ll be damned if he used a handkerchief emblazoned with a daisy where anyone can see him. “Just… feel better, okay?”
Draco nods once, and hears her footsteps retreat through the bathroom and back out into the corridor. Only then does he look up and watch the door softly swing shut, exhaling a long, slow breath. Perhaps… perhaps she isn’t as bad as he’s always thought, he briefly considers. And then he shakes his head, smiles to himself, and wipes his eyes.
end.
POINTS:
691 words / 30 = 23
+ 10 points (purchases) =
33 POINTS FOR HUFFLPUFF!
Janna/Hufflepuff