Chapter Text
Hermione
Thursday, December 7th, exactly one week before the Yule Ball.
Hermione woke with Draco’s arms wrapped protectively around her. She stretched her legs a bit, meeting resistance with Draco's knee- no wait. That wasn’t Draco’s knee. Hermione’s eyes flew open to see Pansy and Astoria sitting on her bed, watching her and Draco sleep, grinning like maniacs. In her haste to sit up, Draco started to stir.
“Pansy!” Hermione yelled.
“Hermione!” she yelled back, squealing with Astoria, the two of them shaking each other on her bed.
“Granger, go back to sleep,” Draco murmured into her hair.
Hermione drug a hand over her face as Pansy and Astoria shared a look, and proceeded to squeal, making a show of rolling their eyes and fanning each other. Draco groaned and opened his eyes.
“Did you two need something, or did you come to ogle us?” he asked the girls, waving his hand to shoo them away.
“As a matter of fact Draco, your mother wrote to me,” Astoria started, and Draco opened both his eyes, sitting up on the bed, “She wants to know why you haven't given her Hermione’s measurements yet.”
“My measurements? For what?” Hermione asked.
Astoria’s mouth dropped open, and Pansy closed it for her, smirking.
“You didn't even tell her yet Draco?” Pansy asked.
“I was going to get around to it,” he mumbled.
“What when your mother got here?”
“Maybe,” he said sheepishly.
“Tell me what?” Hermione asked, looking between Pansy, Draco, and Astoria.
“Mrs. Malfoy is taking us dress shopping today, for the Yule Ball,” Astoria explained.
“What? What time?” Hermione looked at her watch. It was seven in the morning. It was Thursday, which meant she had a little under a week to get a dress, and she hadn’t even thought of it once.
“Mother will be here at 9:45,” Draco had closed his eyes, his head resting on Hermione’s lap.
“What about my classes-”
“McGonagall’s excused them, we’ll have your class later today though.”
“Well that’s a relief, you guys are cooking today.”
“We are?” Astoria brightened and Hermione nodded.
The three girls stared at each other for a while, Pansy studied her nails, and Hermione idly played with Draco’s hair.
“Salazar Hermione!” Astoria started and jumped up off the bed, Pansy stayed studying her nails, “Get up! You’ve got to get ready!”
“Merlin you’re right!” Hermione made haste to scramble out of Draco’s arms and towards the bathroom. She was halfway across her room before she turned around back towards her bed. She lifted Draco's chin and gave him a quick kiss, then rushed off towards the bathroom again.
Narcissa Malfoy was, to say the least, the most regal looking woman Hermione had ever seen. When Astoria and Pansy told her to wear jeans and jumper, she was sure Mrs. Malfoy would take one look at her and deem her completely unworthy of her son. She was dressed in exquisite black robes, lined with silver. Her hair was perfectly set, her hands clasped together in front of her. She had impeccable posture, and Hermione felt the urge to run back to her room, though Draco had probably already gone back to his dorm.
Mrs. Malfoy pulled Astoria into a hug, kissing her cheeks. She looked at Pansy and ran her hands along her arms before giving her a kiss on the cheek. Hermione knew Pansy was not a hugger. Mrs. Malfoy turned to her and warmly smiled.
“Miss Granger,” she walked over to her.
“Hermione, please, Mrs. Malfoy.”
“Of course dear,” she walked forward, beckoning the girls to follow behind her and Hermione. “I'm so terribly sorry that my son has neglected to get your measurements for this occasion but it's not a worry.”
“Oh that’s okay, I don't really take measurements,” Hermione said and Narcissa raised a brow at her in question, “I wear a small.” Pansy and Astoria sickered behind her and she shot a glare back at them.
“What, dear?”
“A small? Anytime my parents bought me clothes they always bought smalls. Whenever me and Harry went shopping…” Hermione trailed off at Narcissa’s incredulous expression, and Pansy looked a moment away from bursting out with laughter. Narcissa stopped before the door to the main courtyard of Hogwarts and faced her.
“Hermione, measurements are to make your dress your own, any alterations,” Hermione knew her expression was somewhere between fear and confusion, but Narcissa only smiled, “Oh this is going to be fun, you’ve never been dress shopping have you?”
“She hasn’t Narcissa,” Astoria chimed.
“Where’d you get your dress for the Yule Ball fourth year, Granger?” Pansy asked.
“McGonagall gave it to me, transfigured it to fit me.” Hermione looked at the three women staring at her open mouth. So she’d never been dress shopping, so what? Who was she going to go with, Harry?
“Oh, Miss Granger you’ve made my day, you’ve no idea what it’s like to dress shop with those two,” she looked towards Pansy and Astoria, “They always knew what they wanted, wouldn’t budge at all.”
“Hey, we were not difficult shoppers,” Pansy said and even Hermione gave her a look, “Okay, Astoria wasn't a difficult shopper.” Pansy rolled her eyes.
The carriage waiting out front was the epitome of pureblood society. It was sleek, luxurious, and huge. On the way out of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade Mrs. Malfoy made polite catch up with Pansy and Astoria, asking them about school. Hermione noticed they hadn't said anything about the incessant bullying, then she realised, why would they? It wasn’t any different than another year at Hogwarts.
“Hermione, dear?” Narcissa said, pulling her back to reality. She blinked quickly.
“Yes?”
“How is teaching your cooking class?”
“Oh, it’s lovely, the first years absolutely love it. And my 8th years are great too,” she looked at Pansy and Astoria.
“Wonderful, Draco has told me how much he enjoys it.”
“He has?” Hermione thought of all the time they were in her classroom, definitely not cooking.
“Oh yes, and I’m glad for it too, he hasn’t been this passionate about something since before,” she paused, “before the war.”
Narcissa was staring at Hermione, trying to dissect her. “You bring that out in him I think.”
Hermione smiled. Narcissa was a mother, his mother. There was no doubt she could tell Draco's affection, but if Hermione’s wasn’t written all over her own face, she may as well be damned.
“But cooking is not the only thing this school year that’s new for you is it?”
Hermione chewed on her lip, contemplating, “No, The Daily Prophet sure has had a few things to say about me.”
“Rita Skeeter has always been a terrible gossip. I have been a member of Pureblood Britain far too long to be ‘terrible’ at gossip. I am well practised and enjoy it quite thoroughly.”
Hermione looked at Narcissa Malfoy, and saw both Pansy and Astoria in her; that childish schoolgirl look, and it reminded her of the nights the three of them would stay up on Hermione’s bed painting their toes, braiding each other’s hair- well, they’d taught hermione how to braid hair- and talk about anything under the sun. Looking back, Hermione was sure that was what made her trust Narcissa Malfoy so much.
“Okay, well for starters the only thing Ronald and I ever did was kiss, and that’s it. I ended things with him after the war, I said we were better off friends, and quite frankly I did not appreciate the things he said to me. When we were called back to Hogwarts I’ll admit I was a little weary of having Pansy and Astoria as my roommates, but they turned out to be the nicest any girl has ever been to me, and they stand up for me too. I won’t apologise for making friends with any of the Slytherins, especially since the entire school has made it their mission to find ways to berate the fact that the war hasn’t left me the same person I was before. I don't enjoy their relentless bullying, and honestly, I strongly dislike Ginny Weasley.'' Hermione was fired up, it felt nice to talk to someone new about this, an adult. Narcissa nodded at her to go on, a glint in her eye.
“I won't even start on the absolute scum that is Cormac McLaggen, and I'm glad no one knows, because I'm sure the Prophet would have a field day with that. I mean honestly, i’ve never been interested in him, and i'm not sorry Theo and Draco- Nevermind that. And of course the moment I go and make new friends everyone’s obviously decided I'm a slut, and they let me know it too, but of course I've never- And even Harry has started to be friends with all of them, I'm sure that that’s the reason those stupid Gryffindors have acted the way that they have. No one’s been nicer to me than Draco has, stood up for me, actually cared about my interests. He actually challenges me, and doesn’t make me do his homework for him. Merlin! The other night he corrected me, no one in all of Hogwarts would ever think to correct me, Hermione Granger, yet he did see it. He doesn’t care about my past, he doesn’t care about my scars. For God’s sake Narcissa he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and that's why I L-”
Narcissa was actually grinning like Pansy was now. She gave those two a classic Pansy and Astoria look, and Hermione knew where they learned it from.
“I like him. I really like him, Narcissa.”
“I'm glad you do Hermione.”
The carriage stopped, and Hermione realised they were there. The driver opened the door for them and Narcissa stepped out first. Astoria gestured for Hermione to go ahead of her, giving her a sly smile. Hermione knew she must be blushing by now. Pansy nudged her, and Hermione hoped she hadn’t made a complete fool of herself in front of Malfoy’s mother.
Stepping out of the carriage, Hermione noticed she was in Knockturn Alley. She felt the feeling starting to creep up on her, like before. The last time she was here, she had aimlessly wondered, and somehow jumped three hours in time without even realising it. Pansy touched her arm, bringing her back to the present.
“Where’d you go just now Granger?” she asked.
“Oh, um, nowhere, just thinking.” She took Pansy’s hand and followed her down the streets.
It was December, so the winter sky was casting a blue haze over the alley.
“The shop’s called Madame Du’Fronce's boutique. I knew you’d wonder.”
“Have you been before?”
“Of course, ever since I was a little kid. Any fancy dinner, or event, debutante ball, the yule ball, that’s where all the Pureblood witches go.”
“Is Madame Du’Fronce going to be okay…with me?”
“Oh absolutely, she’d be a fool to turn away a Malfoy.”
The shop in question was a quaint looking storefront, with bay windows and dark blue wood exterior. Madame Du’Fronce was lettered in gold across the top of the shop, above the door. When they walked in, a little bell jingled. The floors were hardwood, and the layout was fairly open. There was a small counter on the left, and a few racks of fabric to the right. There were some plush blue chaise lounges about a circular wooden platform a ways behind the counter. At the jingle of the bell, a small house elf with a pink dress and a pink bow appeared. She hopped up onto the counter and looked at a large book on the table.
“Miss is checking in?”
“Under Malfoy, dear.”
“Of course! Misses can follow Tulip.”
The four of them followed the elf, Tulip, to the seating area. Narcissa took the large white armchair, and left the blue chaise to the three girls. Astoria and Pansy looked at Hermione in question.
“How do you like it?” Astoria asked quietly
“There are no dresses here,” Hermione observed.
“That’s what the fabric is for Granger,” Pansy explained.
A door from the back of the shop swung open and a short woman walked out. She had greying hair perfectly smoothing into a bun, and wore slim glasses. She wore simple robes and had a tape measure around her neck. She walked over to Narcissa who got out of her seat.
“Mrs. Malfoy! How lovely to see you,” She took Narcissa’s arms and kissed both cheeks.
“It’s lovely to see you too Madame.”
“I see you have brought someone new, has Draco finally grown up and asked that bushy haired girl he always talked about?”
Always talked about? Hermione looked at Pansy who was pointedly not looking at her.
“This is Miss Granger,” Narcissa gestured towards her, “Draco did not get her measurements done.”
“Oh, it’s no bother,” Madame Du’Fronce had the slightest french accent, and she walked over to Hermione.
“Hello.” Hermione said. What else could she say?
“Here dear, step up onto the platform so I can get your measurements,” Madame led Hermione to the Platform, she was very pushy for an old woman. She conjured parchment and a quill, and started measuring Hermione everywhere.
“What are we thinking for her dress, Miss Parkinson?” she asked.
“Fitted,” Pansy replied.
“A little flowy just above the knees though,” Astoria chimed in.
“Colour?”
“Dark blue, Green- Emerald.”
Hermione was astonished how Pansy and Astoria knew all of this. She could barely understand what they were talking about.
“I think a nice satin for the fabric,” Narcissa started, Madame writing notes on the parchment, measuring Hermione’s waist, “A light navy, cinched waist, slight flow at the hips, open back, small swoop in the neckline, it’ll pair nicely with silver heels, don't you think girls?” Narcissa turned to ask Pansy and Astoria, who nodded in return.
Hermione fought to keep her mouth closed. Of course Narcissa would be good at this, but it was interesting to watch happen. Madame finished measuring Hermione, and she stepped down off the platform.
“For Miss Parkinson and Miss Greengrass?” Madame asked, drawing a line under Hermione’s notes.
“Pansy, you’d do nicely in red, lacy chiffon though, off the shoulder sleeves, sweetheart neckline, larger skirt, only two layers of tulle underneath, black heels.” Pansy nodded her approval, and Madame wrote all that down, “Astoria, Black silk, with two slits down the side, sheer green, strapless, princess gloves to match the green undertones, black heels, plunge neckline, corseted back, I think that will do?” Astoria nodded as well.
“Of course Mrs Malfoy, I’ll put those dresses on Miss Parkinsons and Miss Greengrasses charge accounts. Would Miss Granger like to start a charge account?” Madame asked.
Hermione opened her mouth to tell her yes.
“No need, you can put it on the Malfoy charge account,” Narcissa smiled.
Hermione started to protest, “Mrs. Malfoy, I couldn’t possibly accept your money for this dress, I can start a charge and put it on that.”
“Miss Granger, really, it’s no bother. Consider this my apology for Draco not getting your measurements.”
“I shouldn’t accept your money-”
“Oh please darling, it’s Lucius’s anyways,” she smiled
That did not make Hermione feel better. Astoria gave her a look that said Don’t argue with her, she will win. Hermione sighed.
“I can’t thank you enough Mrs. Malfoy.”
They left the shop and stood out on the street, the sky had darkened, and it felt colder. Hermione felt the chill full on this time, and heard whispers behind her. She spun around, thinking it was Pansy and Astoria, but they weren’t there. She turned back around to find that they were not in front of her either. She could still hear the whispers around her, maybe it was the wind.
“Hermione!” Astoria yelled from somewhere to her left. She turned and Narcissa, Pansy and Astoria were walking towards her briskly.
“Where’d you run off to? We walked out of the shop and you just disappeared,” Pansy said.
“I'm not sure.” Hermione heard footsteps, farther away, but she still had goosebumps. She looked behind her as Pansy grabbed her hand and led her away.
“Are you alright dear?” Narcissa asked.
“Yes, I just thought I heard something, or someone…” Hermione fixed her gaze behind them, Narcissa followed it with her.
Draco
Thursday, December 7th
Draco had never been more excited for a class than he was today. Of course, it had absolutely nothing to do with Granger, and everything to do with cooking. They were cooking their first full meal today. He was a little nervous to talk to Granger in general, they had only just gotten back from a day outing with his mother. Draco was, in part, annoyed that he couldn’t go with, but his mother assured him everything would be fine. This did not calm him.
They had a potions project sometime next week, of course, Granger was already researching for it. IT’s not like it was a competition, but she was top in the class, he was second, and they were in different groups. They were assuredly determined to beat each other.
“Malfoy,” he heard Theo say.
Returning from being lost in thought, he looked at Theo and Blaise, “What?”
“How was your night?”
“It was fine.”
“Just fine?” Blaise raised his eyebrows, he was usually never one to question, but as Draco could never seem to shut up about Granger, he’d decided now was the ideal time to pounce, “You spent the whole night over there with her mate, and it was ‘just fine’, that’s all?”
“Very well observed, Blaise.”
“He’s nervous,” Theo looked at Blaise, “Granger was out with Narcissa and he’s nervous she’s gonna tell Granger all your secrets.”
“I am not.” Draco stood up grabbing his bookbag.
“Headed to class early Draco?” Blaise asked.
“Oh, did you want to come with me?” he said sarcastically.
“Well if you insist,” Theo grabbed his and Blaise's bags and ushered Draco out the door with him.
Draco groaned inwardly the entire walk to the third floor, all the way to the door to her classroom. Granger was already there of course, with Pansy and Astoria.
“Granger! How was it the first time meeting the lovely Narcissa Malfoy?” Theo ran over to her and crushed in an awkward hug.
“I've seen her before Theo.”
“Yeah yeah. Well what’s the dress situation look like ladies?”
“Granger’s is marvellous of course, Astoria’s- don't even get me started, and I'm wearing red,” Pansy said.
“Red? Salazar Pans I should've asked you to the ball instead.”
“Too bad you missed your shot Theodore.”
Draco tuned them out and walked over to Hermione, who was sitting behind her desk, writing. She looked thinner. Not as thin as when she first came back to Hogwarts, but still, thinner than she should be. On the nights he slept at her dorm, she wouldn't wake up, but he knew she had nightmares. She’d toss around the bed, face wet with tears every once in a while. He would just hold her, waiting for her to fall away from the dreams. He understood. He wondered if she’d been eating though. He rarely ate with her, usually something they made in class. He made a mental note to ask Potter to be sure she was eating. Draco didn’t grace the Great Hall with his presence during meals, nor did his friends. Usually a quick slip in and out, either before or after the majority of people were there.
“Granger,” he acknowledged.
“Malfoy,” She said, setting her quill down and looking up.
“How was your day trip?”
“Quite lovely, though I wish I would've known earlier.” She scowled so as to seem angry, but a smile played on her lips.
“I'm sorry.”
“What is this? Draco Malfoy- apologising?” She stood up from her desk and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his torso. He slid his arms over her shoulders.
“Don't get used to it,” He said quietly, then unwrapped himself from her as students started to shuffle in.
Pansy, Astoria, Theo, and Blaise went to their respective kitchens, and Draco stood behind Hermione’s.
“Okay! Today is our first real deal meal day,” Hermione started, “I want everyone in aprons, hand washed and ready to go in ten minutes.”
Draco watched the room move, though there were only nine of them there was plenty of chatter. He glanced over at the recipes on their counter, written in Granger’s handwriting. He liked that it was messy, it was her. Almost like she had too much to say and in order to get it all out she wrote fast and uneven. She passed out recipes to everyone, Longbottom and Lovegood getting to make asparagus, fitting, since he grew it; she put Bones and Macmilian on a dessert of some sort, she gave Blaise and Theo, the sauce- a veloute or something, he hadn’t been paying attention when she taught them about it. Her arse lookeed particularly fine that day so he’d spent the class staring at it. Granger gave Pans and Tori the chicken, Pans looked thrilled.
Draco jumped out of his daze when she walked in front of him, waving their recipe card in his face. He snatched out of her hands and studied it, trying to ignore the way she looked in her little pink apron, her curls in a high ponytail on her head.
“Ris-ot-to,” he articulated.
“Yes, we're making that.”
“I'm aware of what risotto is, Granger.”
“Really? I had no idea,” she scoffed and set the card down, telling him what to get.
Watching Granger cook was his most recent fascination. It was like watching her in Potions, but if she’d brewed potions her whole life. This was different, she was dedicated, precise, it was almost angelic- what was that? Draco snapped out of his thought at the sound of some noise coming from a small box on her desk. A CD player she’d told him about a while ago. Whatever she was playing was horrendous though, nothing he’d ever heard before.
“Granger, what is this nonsense you're playing?” He saw Theo laughing at him from across the room.
“Cooking is always better with music.”
“ This is music?”
“Yes, Draco, this is music. It's 80's music.”
80’s. He scoffed. What in the world did that mean? When he’d gotten over his initial shock of hearing blasphemous noise, he heard that it was indeed a song with lyrics.
I hear the secrets that you keep, when you’re talking in your sleep.
He rolled his eyes and leaned back against the counter, watching her measure ingredients.
You tell me that you want me. You tell me that you need me.
Granger was singing the words along with the CD, she enjoyed this music apparently. Draco attuned his ears to listen, if she liked it there must be something about it. By the time the song was over, the two of them had just started the stove. A new song was playing.
I want you…to want…me! I want you to want me. I need you to need me. I love you to love me.
This one intrigued him, it was faster than the first, but still had that same air about it.
Oh, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I, see ya cryin. Oh didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you cryin.
He stirred the risotto for her while she added white wine every few moments. She was dancing along with the music, and he couldn't be more enthralled by her. He looked at the rest of the class, focusing on their work. Pansy and Astoria were moving around too, Astoria mouthing the words, Granger must've played this song for them before. Blaise was smiling, a real smile. So was Theo. Draco thought his mother would love to hear this, she’d love to be here. Something splattered on his hand, scorching his skin and he jerked it back.
“You okay Malfoy?” She looked at him with concern.
“Yeah, just a splatter is all.” he rubbed his hand, the initial pain fading.
Hermione opened her mouth to say something to him.
“Shit,” he heard Blaise say across the room.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” Theo was wide eyed.
Hermione looked up as Theo was walking around holding his hand up.
“Oh Merlin, Theo what happened?” She met him in the middle, taking his hand in hers.
Such a grotesque thought, that Draco wished it was him. That it was his blood on her skin. She led Theo up to their counter.
“Keep stirring that, will you Draco?” he nodded and followed her directions.
He still watched her though. She shoved Theo’s hand under the faucet, tinging the water red, dark crimson droplets fading to bright red under the stream. She could've been a healer. She should be a healer, he thought. She dried off Theo’s hand and pressed a cloth to it. It was a slice across his palm. Theo had been through worse, Draco knew this, but that was quite some time ago, maybe they’d placated a false sense of security being around Granger. She took the cloth off and spread some thick gooey clear paste across his palm, the droplets that had formed with the absence of the towel mixed with it. She put a small piece of gauze on it before wrapping it with an adhesive bandage.
“There we go,” She inspected her handiwork.
“Granger,” Draco said, Theo still standing up there. She raised her eyebrows at him in question, “You could've done that with magic.”
She let out a frustrated sigh, “Ugh, you’re right!” She grabbed Theo’s hand again to take off the bandage, but he stopped her.
“No no leave it Granger.”
“But it will scar.”
“That’s alright, it’ll be a fun story to tell,” he mused, “or maybe I'll make something up! Something dangerous.”
Granger laughed with him. She turned him and pushed him back towards Blaise. She’d only just taken over the stirring, which Draco had playful tried to deny her from, when Pansy walked up.
“Granger,” she said sing-songy.
“Yes, Pans?”she didn’t look up from her pan just yet, adding just a touch more liquid to the dish.
“Song request?”
“Which one?”
“The one band, with the red cover, the song about who’s crying?”
“Ahh, Who’s Cryin’ Now by Journey?” Pansy nodded at her, “Okay, stay here and watch Draco while I go change it,” She winked at him as she walked off to her desk.
He huffed, “Watched, I don't need watched.”
“Draco,” Pansy whispered.
“Yes Pansy?” he whispered back, “why are we whispering?”
“No reason,” Pansy said, in a normal volume.
He glared at her smirk, she had something to say, he knew it. So why wasn’t she saying it.
“I have a little project for us to work on tonight in the library,” she whispered, and walked back to her area as Granger came back over.
Draco tried to make sense of what on earth Pansy was talking about, but he got distracted by Granger’s freckles and whatever song she was playing
One love feeds the fire, one heart does desire, one love who's cryin now.
Hermione
In Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid began passing out everyone’s creatures. Draco and Hermione had no doubt the most research out of anyone in the class, so they felt confident that they could handle this. Hermione noticed that none of the gryffindors seemed to know how to care for their creatures, and she smugly hoped it was because she wasn’t there to do their homework. They walked up to Hagrid, taking their little Occamy in its basket, so as not to let it grow too large yet. It was a cute little thing, a slim blue body with feather-like scales, little green tufts of feathers around it. They took it over to their area in the creature house, a building Hagrid has built to keep all the animals safely in, and out of the weather.
“Hmm, Let’s name it Dumbledore!” Draco was stroking its feathers. They knew it was a boy.
She hit him in the arm, “Draco! Are you insane? Absolutely not!”
“Oh, we could name it Potter, then I wouldn't feel bad if it died.”
Hermione rolled her eyes at him and slyly smirked, “Actually I think Abraxas sounds quite alright.”
“After my grandfather? In your wildest dreams!”
The two burst out laughing, Draco’s usually pale skin tinged pink.
“I've got one.”
“Okay, hit me.”
“Alright, hear me out, Draco?” she burst out laughing as he said it.
“Are you two coming up with names for your children over here?” Theo asked, “Theodore is pretty popular these days I hear. Just a suggestion.”
“Kindly fuck off Theodore,” Draco said.
“Draco, don't be rude! Theodore, we will not be naming our Occamy after you.”
“Fine, fine, but your son has to have Theodore somewhere in there.”
“Oh? Who says I'm going to have a son?”
Draco and Theo shared a look, “Granger, I'm a Malfoy.”
“Good point, I'd better definitely have a girl, I'm set on destroying your bloodline.” Draco paled a bit and Theo started laughing at him.
“What's so funny mione?” Harry asked.
“Nothing at all Potter, just your best friend threatening to ruin my bloodline.”
“Careful mate, when she sets her mind to something it’ll happen.”
“Figures.” Harry shook his head and began to walk away. “Hey Potter,” Draco called after him.
“Yeah?”
“Got any name ideas for our occamy? All Granger’s come up with is shite”
Harry mimicked putting his hand on his chin in deep thought, “Name it Tom”
Draco’s eyes went wide with Hermione’s.
“Harry!”
“What? I think it’d be funny.”
“Tom it is?”
“Tom it is, Granger.”
“Harry, have you met our Occamy, Tom?”
Draco called Harry, Harry instead of Potter. Hermione’s heart warmed; she thought she may catch on fire, or cry. Maybe both.
“No I don't believe I have, introduce me.”
Draco cradled their Occamy, careful not to let it loose, “Potter, this is Tom our Occamy.”
“Nice to meet you Tom, I knew a Tom once, bugger of a man, bit funny looking too.”
“Don't listen to him Tom, Harry’s a bit funny looking as well.”
“Rude, Hermione.”
Hermione stuck her tongue out at Harry and he stuck it out at her.
“Of all the times I wished I had a camera,” Draco shook his head.
“I've got it!” there was a flash and Harry and Hermione turned to see Pansy holding her polaroid up at them. She turned it around and held it high in the air and snapped a picture of the four of them, Draco on the ground, Harry and Hermione standing next to each other like siblings, and Pansy winking at the camera. She shook both polaroids and set them down to develop before handing them over to Hermione.
Friday: Dec, 8th Slytherin V. Gryffindor
Pansy had found an old Slytherin Quidditch jersey in her trunk, with a white seven on the back. Though it didn’t say Malfoy on the back, Hermione knew it was one of Draco’s. Pansy gave her a knowing look. Hermione slipped it on, along with a pair of thick black leggings. It wasn’t terribly cold, and Hogwarts hadn’t had its first snow yet, but the air was still crispy and windy, so she wore a jumper under Draco’s Jersey.
“Merlin Hermione, he’s gonna flip when he sees you in that,” Pansy said, standing in the doorway of Hermione's room.
“As long as he doesn't fall off of his broom.”
“Questionable. It's a possibility.”
There was a knock at the door, and Pansy raised her eyebrows, gesturing to herself, she wasn't dressed yet. Hermione rolled her eyes and went to answer their door.
“Salazar Granger, Draco’s going to fall off his broom when he sees you in that!” Theo said, taking her arms and spinning her around.
“Told you!” Pansy shouted from her room.
When Astoria was ready, wearing Blaise's old number 1 jersey, the four of them headed down to the pitch, and up into the stands. The crowds were loud, but Hermione was excited. The past few quidditch matches Theo had dragged her to were fun, but this was the first where Slytherin played Gryffindor.
For the first hour or so of the game, things were fairly even and exciting. Slytherin was ahead by thirty points, but Hermione was only vaguely counting. She was mostly watching Draco seek for the snitch. His quidditch uniform fit his body snugly and Merlin, did he have quidditch broom thighs. Harry was also seeking, saying a few things to Malfoy every so often, the two of them smiling. Hermione watched Harry race off after something, but Hermione didn't think it was the snitch.
“What the-” Theo muttered.
Hermione followed his gaze to Gryffindor’s beaters, Seamus and Cormac, who were on either side of Draco. She could hear their lips moving, and Draco’s face hardened. They followed. She noticed Ron and Harry stalled in the sky talking, no arguing, Ron’s face was getting red. Draco dove on his broom, a better flyer, and faster too. Cormac and Seamus followed him closely behind. They were chasing him. They hit the ground, and Draco all but threw his broom on the ground, storming over to the two boys. She couldn’t hear what they were saying but it wasn’t good. Draco’s cheeks, previously tinged pink from flying, were now pale with rage. Cormac and Seamus smiled, and it was the same look as every time they’d started something with her.
“Oh Merlin, they’re going to hit him!”
“Granger, how you possibly-”
Even from the stands, everyone could hear the crack that was Seamus's fist against Malfoy’s jaw. Hermione was already running down the stairs of the stands, nearly skipping three steps at a time. It was a wonder she hadn’t fallen yet. She could hear Theo, cursing as he came down not far off from Hermione, Pansy and Astoria rushing after Theo. Hermione had just turned the corner, and fought the feeling of her stomach dropping at the sight on the quidditch pitch. Seamus and Cormac were taking turns pummeling Draco, while Ron and Harry were screaming at each other not far off. Blaise was attempting to get to Draco, but Ginny stood in his way. None of the professors had made it to the pitch yet. Draco wasn’t fighting back, and there was blood everywhere.
“Draco!” Theo was yelling, Pansy and Astoria were holding Theo by the arms.
Astoria wiped a single tear away, and looked at hermione. Save him . Hermione didn’t need her to say it, she knew.
She rushed forward, casting an Incarcerous at Ginny, and a petrificus totalus towards Ron. It hit them both square on. She cast a nasty stunning spell at Cormac; it was one she’d learned during the war. Stupificus . A modification of a regular stupefy , it knocked you out, but let you feel the shock the entire time. It would hurt. Good. She cast a slicing jinx at Seamus, who was still punching Draco. Draco wasn’t moving, but his chest was rapidly rising. The slicing jinx took Seamus off guard. By now, Blaise had gone over to Astoria, Theo and Pansy. Hermione skidded to her knees in front of Draco, Seamus across from her, staring at the gash she’d just made on his leg. Harry was on Seamus in the next moment, dragging him elsewhere. She knelt over Draco, trying to assess what she could fix.
“Draco?” she asked softly, her own breathing a little ragged, she hadn’t used that much spell work in a while, “Draco can you hear me?”
One of his eyes was swollen shut, both were purple. They’d split his lip, and his nose was bleeding, possibly broken, and that was only his face. She was terrified to look at the rest of him, he was sure to have a bruised rib or two.
She rested her hand on his chest, and cast a diagnostic over him. Several red and purple lights were flashing back at her. Draco coughed next to her, blood coming out of his mouth.
“Granger?” He tried to sit up.
“No, no, stay lying down, you might’ve broken a rib.”
She cast an episky for his nose, and healed his lip. She summoned murtlap essence from her bag on the stands. She was vaguely aware of the students in the stand talking, making noise. She didn’t care, the only thing she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears, and Draco's harsh breathing.
“You just carry murtlap essence with you everywhere you go?” he asked, not opening his eyes, his lips pulling into a small pained smirk.
“Habit.” She put two drops of the murtlap essence on her hands, and rubbed them together, then gently over Draco's eyes. The swelling faded, and the bruises turned yellow instead of purple. He still had blood all over his face, down his chin. It was staining his quidditch jersey.
She pulled up his jersey to check out his ribs. Most of the red lights had gone to a light yellow, but there was still something with his abdomen.
“Granger, there are people watching,” He said. She was sure he'd opened his eyes and looked at the stands. She was sure the whole school just watched her rush down the stairs of the stands, single-handedly take out four of her fellow classmates, and do a precise patch up job on Draco Malfoy. If they didn’t think she was nuts then, they did now.
“Let them watch.”
She rubbed more murtlap essence onto his bruised abdomen and watched those too fade. She sighed deeply and sat back against her legs, the heels of her hands pressing into her eyes. One of Draco’s hands rested on her leg, the other came up to take her hands from her face, her wand hand shaking a bit.
“Hermione, look at me.”
She cracked her eyes open a bit, and looked at him. He was grinning so widely, she’d think she just imagined the whole ‘got the shit beat out of me’ part.
“What are you smiling about?” She smiled at him though, “Come on, get up.”
She stood up, and took her arm, helping him up. She was good at healing, but that didn’t mean she could take away pain. He winced as he stood. Hermione was vaguely aware of her surroundings now, and She could see McGonagall walking over, with Flitwick and Slughorn. It looked as though they had sent away most of the students, but there were a few stragglers in the stands, and on the pitch. Hermione saw Julia among them, and even from a distance she could see her little smile. The professors had undid all the spellwork she’d used to stop the Gryffindors from killing Malfoy, but they were sitting on the bench near the edge of the field, heads down. Good. She thought. She looked to McGonagall, the two having a silent conversation with their eyes and expressions.
While I don't approve of these methods, it’s not unjustified. She seemed to say.
Hermione raised her eyebrow. We both know they can't fight back, and the Gryffindors know that.
McGonagall nodded. This cannot go without repercussions.
I understand.
She inclined her head, offering Hermione a chance to escape, all but her and Draco still on the pitch, the others gone ahead. She thanked McGonagall with a glance, but she knew sooner or later she’d be having a talk with her. She and Draco walked off the pitch, not saying anything to each other.
Since the match had taken place over the lunch hour, and finished early due to the scuffle, McGonagall had deemed that Slytherin won, ahead by 30 points. This outraged the Gryffindors, and by the time Hermione made it to the Great Hall for dinner, she wasn’t sure she could stomach hearing their rowdy strident caws.
She noticed that the Slytherins were not in attendance, then again, neither her nor them rarely came to the great hall. Hermione had mostly taken to having coffee for breakfast, she’d make Harry nab something for her lunch, and eat with him in the courtyard, and then she’d slip in to grab a bite for dinner and rush back to her dorm or the library to eat alone in peace. She would’ve liked to eat with Draco, but with the hostile environment that was the Gryffindor house table, it just wasn’t possible. And while the entirety of Hogwarts had seen her obvious ‘change of heart’ -as Blaise told her- Rita Skeeter called it. However, her public bullying seemed stilted. She wondered if MgGonagall had said something, she wrung her hands together as she sat at the very end of the Gryffindor table, a few fourth years opened mouthed and staring at her. She gave them a confused look, and a small hand tapped her shoulder. A familiar flash of yellow caught her eye and Julia sat down next to her.
“Hi!”
“Hello, Julia.”
“Nice outfit,” Julia said through a spoonful of mashed potatoes.
Hermione looked down and saw that she was still wearing Draco’s jersey; she was thankful her jumper was black and she pulled it lower on her arms and noticed the small flecks of dried blood by her hands.
“Thanks, no wonder everyone’s staring at me.”
“I think it's cute,” Julia stood up, plate empty, “Hermione you’ve got a smudge of blood on your cheek,” then she ran off to another table with some other young girls in Hufflepuff robes.
Hermione licked her thumb and rubbed her cheek where Julia had pointed to. She searched the room for Harry- he was the only reason she’d even agreed to come to dinner tonight, and even Draco had encouraged her to hang out with him instead of fussing over his injuries. She did want to see Harry, she hadn’t talked to him since before the match. Her stomach hurt, but not because she was hungry, no this was a different feeling. It was almost like being watched. She looked around to see everyone in conversation with the people they were sitting with. She looked at her watch again, fifteen after seven, he was fifteen minutes late. Harry wasn't usually late, but maybe someone had stopped to talk to him. Hermione’s gut told her differently. Her arm started to tingle, sending that familiar surge up her back. She fought the urge to touch it, but she could feel that it was angry.
This can’t be happening, not here, not in front of everyone. She knew she should’ve left the moment she felt anxious, but she was determined to wait for Harry. It became almost too much to handle, it was so loud, so hot, she could feel the wooden bench she was sitting on, and the sticky wet of her arm, it was probably bleeding and so she set her hands on the table in front of her. No matter the pain, there was no way her mind would allow her to scratch in front of people.
In all honesty, Hermione should’ve been paying attention. She should’ve paid attention to her surroundings, trusted her gut. She should've been paying attention to notice the Gryffindors sneakily staring at her, while she tried her best to seem normal. She should’ve been paying enough attention to see Ginny and Lavender get up from their group.
And she definitely should’ve been paying attention when she read Harry’s note, reality dawning on her in that moment that it was not in fact Harry’s handwriting.
It was Ginny’s.
The truth of it was simple. One sentence, and offhand comment in passing, a joke really. Another jab at her. Except it wasn’t. It was just a sentence. They hadn’t even stopped walking to say it.
“Gosh Hermione, everyone knows you're a death eater now, that doesn't mean you have to look like one too,'' Ginny said and Lavender laughed, “You can try to cover it up, Hermione, but everyone knows what scars you have”, Ginny said, glancing at her arm. Her left arm.