.jpg)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co belong to J.K. Rowling, and the song is by Leona Lewis. I don't own anything except the plot :)
But something happened,118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡntHI9gvk3h
For the very first time with you.118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUnkta3d6rg
My heart melts into the ground,
Found something true.118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuu0xjPSqUK
And everyone's looking round,118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzvS2NSnAEf
Thinking I'm going crazy.
Hidden behind a large stack of books at the back of the Library in Hogwarts, Hermione Granger was in her element. The familiar scent of parchment, both old and new, filled the air and drifted toward her nose. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the calming fragrance soothe her senses. A small, contented smile appeared on her face as she reached for a book from the top of the pile on her left. She glanced at the title: “Potion Remedies in the 18th Century” by Jock Jibblets. Without hesitation, Hermione opened the book to the exact page she needed and resumed her essay for Professor Snape, immersing herself in her studies.
The rhythmic sound of her quill moving steadily across the parchment echoed softly in the secluded corner of the library. Hermione was completely absorbed in her writing, focused and intent on finishing her assignment. Ordinarily, nothing could break her concentration when she was working, especially in the peaceful atmosphere of the library. However, suddenly, the light at her table dimmed as a shadow fell across her workspace. She glanced up, her heart skipping a beat when she recognised the figure standing before her—it was the very last person she wanted to encounter in that moment.
His expression appeared calm, noticeably different from his usual demeanour. There was no trace of the familiar smirk he often wore, nor the scowl or sneer that had defined his face since he first arrived at Hogwarts. Instead, anxiety was the only emotion visible in his features.
Hermione regarded him with a slight frown, sensing his unease. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked, her tone less cold than it might have been in the past.
He raised his eyebrows, then reached up to sweep his blonde hair out of his eyes. Glancing around the library quickly, he seemed to check if anyone was watching before turning his attention back to Hermione. Clearing his throat, he pointed to the book she had just picked off the pile. ‘Uh... I was wondering if you had finished with that book,’ he asked, his gaze lingering on the volume in her hands.
Hermione glanced down at the book in her hands, a slight shake of her head indicating her response. ‘No, I just started with it. I'll give it to you when I'm done with it. Is that okay?’ she replied, her voice steady but laced with a hint of nervousness. The way he was watching her made her slightly uneasy, and she couldn't help but feel self-conscious under his gaze.
Draco Malfoy’s features softened as he offered Hermione a genuine smile—one devoid of his usual smugness or sarcasm. He lifted his hand in a casual, good-humoured salute, acknowledging her with an unexpected lightness. ‘Yeah, thanks,’ he said sincerely, his tone carrying none of the venom she had come to expect from him. With that, Draco turned and left her table, leaving Hermione momentarily stunned by the simple act of gratitude.
Hermione stared at him in shock. Did he just thank me? She wondered, momentarily questioning whether she had heard correctly and if perhaps her ears were playing tricks on her. The genuine gratitude in his voice was so unexpected that it left her momentarily speechless. As she processed the exchange, she realised that when he smiled—truly smiled, without his usual smirk—he appeared far more handsome than she had ever noticed before. Something inside her shifted at that moment, an unfamiliar feeling stirring as she watched him walk away. Letting out a soft sigh, Hermione tried to steady herself and refocus on her essay, determined to push aside the confusion swirling in her mind and return to her work.
After a couple of minutes, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. She sensed two sets of eyes on her and glanced up, her gaze traveling to a table several spots away. There, she spotted Pansy Parkinson, who was glaring at her with open hostility. Seated next to Pansy was Draco Malfoy, his attention fixed on Hermione as well. Unlike Pansy, Draco wore a small, almost teasing smile on his lips.
Pansy's glare shifted from Hermione to Draco, clearly displeased with his behaviour. Draco responded to Pansy's glare by rolling his eyes in exasperation and giving a careless shrug, as though dismissing her concerns. Then, unexpectedly, he winked at Hermione. The gesture caught her off guard and, despite herself, she couldn't help but smile in response.
Hermione attempted to refocus on her essay, but she could still sense that someone was watching her. Gradually, she realised that while one of the sets of eyes had shifted away, the other remained fixed on her, leaving her feeling uneasy. She glanced up, and her gaze met Draco’s piercing icy blue eyes. Despite herself, a gentle smile formed on her lips, her heart unexpectedly softening when he returned the smile.
Draco’s attention briefly flickered over to Pansy, as if to ensure she hadn’t noticed the exchange, before his eyes returned to Hermione. This time, his smile widened, and a warm blush coloured Hermione’s cheeks. The smile slowly faded from Draco’s face, replaced by an intense expression that made Hermione feel as though he could see right through her. She unconsciously licked her lips to moisten them, suddenly aware of how dry they had become, her heartbeat quickening under the weight of his unwavering gaze.
Pansy’s sharp eyes took in the scene, her irritation clear. Without warning, she looked up and smacked Draco’s arm before pushing her chair back abruptly and storming out of the library. Draco’s gaze followed her retreating figure for a moment, but then he simply turned back toward Hermione, offering a careless shrug as if to say Pansy’s reaction didn’t concern him in the slightest.
Hermione felt her cheeks warm with another blush and tried to focus on her essay, but she found it impossible to concentrate. Draco’s recent behaviour lingered in her thoughts, tugging at her attention no matter how she tried to force her mind back to her work. Why was he acting so differently? For as long as she could remember, he had gone out of his way to antagonise her—he hated her, didn’t he? Yet, something about the way he looked at her now, and the gentle smile he offered, left her questioning everything she thought she knew.
An hour had passed since their shared moment, yet to Hermione, the brief exchange lingered in her mind as though it had stretched on far longer. The intensity of the interaction made it seem to last a lifetime, even though, in reality, it had spanned only a minute or so. Now, having finished the book Draco had wanted, Hermione found herself caught in a silent debate. She weighed her options, considering how best to approach the strikingly handsome Slytherin and hand him the book he had asked for.
Hermione took a steadying breath, gathering her courage as she picked up the book Draco had requested. She glanced at it thoughtfully, attempting to appear nonchalant, and gave a slight shrug before rising from her seat. Reminding herself that she had promised to give the book to him, she fixed her gaze on its cover, keeping her eyes down as she made her way across the library toward his table.
The sensation of Draco’s eyes following her every step was unmistakable, heightening her nerves with each stride. As she drew closer, the edge of his table entered her vision, prompting her to finally look up. Draco met her gaze, his eyebrows arching in quiet curiosity, and a faint smile played at the corners of his lips, softening his usually guarded expression.
He tilted his head, his cool gaze meeting hers as he looked up from his seat. With a slight arch of his brow. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked, echoing her question from before, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. The familiarity of the phrase, now turned back on her, made Hermione’s heart skip a beat as she grappled with her swirling emotions in that charged moment.
Hermione stared at Draco, her lips parted slightly as she struggled to regain control over her swirling emotions. His appearance was striking—his head tilted just so, and the smile playing on his lips left her feeling breathless. Hermione found herself unable to speak, momentarily lost in thoughts of what it might be like if he were to kiss her. Quickly, she forced herself out of her reverie and managed a shy smile in his direction.
Her voice faltered as she spoke, barely managing to get the words out. ‘Y-You wanted this b-book,’ she stuttered, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Draco’s smile grew even wider in response.
Hermione reached out, offering the book to Draco. As he accepted it, his fingers brushed lightly against hers, sending a sudden tingle through her hand. The contact, though brief, intensified the colour in her cheeks, and she found herself stumbling slightly as she backed away from him. Her emotions surged in a confusing whirlwind—she couldn’t understand why she was feeling so flustered.
This was Draco Malfoy, after all. DRACO MALFOY! The very person who had made her years at Hogwarts a living nightmare. Despite that, Hermione couldn’t ignore the undeniable fact that he was strikingly handsome. She realised, though, that her feelings seemed to go beyond a simple attraction. Still, she knew she would never admit that to anyone—not even to herself. The thought of her friends discovering what she was feeling was mortifying enough, and if Draco continued to look at her the way he was now, she feared her resolve would only weaken further.
As Hermione began to turn away, she heard Draco’s voice, low and almost gentle, call out to her. ‘Granger?’ he said. The way he spoke her name sent a shiver down her spine—there was something different in his tone, something softer and more intimate. She froze, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected tenderness, as though her name had been spoken like a delicate caress rather than the usual sneer she was accustomed to. In that moment, all her confusion and conflicting emotions seemed to swirl together, leaving her rooted to the spot, unsure whether to flee or to turn back toward him.
She turned toward him, her breath catching slightly. ‘Y-Yes?’ she managed, the stutter betraying her nerves. Her heart pounded as she tried to steady herself under the intensity of Draco’s gaze, feeling her cheeks flush once more. She struggled to maintain her composure, her hands instinctively gripping the edge of the table for support.
Draco’s expression softened as he looked up at Hermione. ‘Thank you,’ he said with a gentle smile. The sincerity in his words caught her off guard, and for a moment, she could only stare back at him, her heart pounding in her chest. The simple phrase hung in the air, filled with more meaning than she had expected. Draco’s gratitude was unexpected, and the warmth in his eyes made her cheeks flush even deeper. Hermione managed a small, uncertain smile in return, feeling the connection between them intensify in that brief exchange.
Hermione felt an overwhelming warmth spread through her chest, her heart seeming to melt as her legs grew weak beneath her. Instinctively, she reached out and gripped the edge of the table beside her, hoping to appear composed, but her effort was in vain. The gesture only made her nervousness more apparent. Desperately seeking composure, Hermione tried to calm her breathing. ‘You’re w-welcome,’ she mumbled, but her words came out in a shaky stutter, her voice noticeably higher than usual. Without daring to look back, she turned away from Draco, missing how his smile grew even wider at her response.
Hermione stumbled back to her seat; her legs unsteady beneath her. The rapid thudding of her heart echoed so loudly in her ears that she wondered if everyone else in the Library could hear it too. She discreetly wiped her palms on her robes, hoping to rid herself of the nervous sweat that had gathered on her brow. Despite her efforts, her thoughts remained scattered, and she struggled to regain a sense of calm.
For as long as she could remember, Hermione had harboured a secret crush on Draco Malfoy, the enigmatic blonde Slytherin. Yet she had never allowed herself to act on those feelings, keeping them locked away out of sight. She questioned now whether it was merely a fleeting infatuation or something deeper. Sitting there in the Library, Draco had made her feel more alive than anyone ever had before. The flutter in her chest was stronger than anything she had ever experienced, even compared to the feelings she once believed she had for Harry. No one, not even Harry, had ever made her feel this way.
Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly shot a glance at Draco. She couldn’t help but notice that he was watching her intently over the top of the book she had just given him. Embarrassed by his gaze, she looked away, but a sudden thought crept into her mind: Am I in love with him? The idea startled her, and she immediately tried to dismiss it. Impossible, she told herself firmly. He hates me. There’s no way he would feel the same, even if I was in love with him. Despite her efforts to be rational, the uncertainty lingered in her thoughts, leaving her unsettled and conflicted.
Hermione’s heart waged a silent battle against her thoughts. Deep down, she knew the truth: she did love Draco, even if she hadn’t realised it until this very moment. Her mind tried to reason with her, suggesting that perhaps Draco felt the same way. After all, the way he had looked at her—so intently, with a softness she’d never seen before—could not be simply dismissed. He had been watching her like that since he entered the library, his gaze lingering in a way that made it impossible for her to ignore the possibility of his feelings. Yet Hermione stubbornly shook her head, refusing to believe it could be real. With one final attempt to quell the inner turmoil, she pushed aside her conflicting thoughts and forced herself to focus once more on her work, determined to ignore the relentless argument between her mind and her heart.
After another half hour of determined effort, Hermione finally succeeded in pushing thoughts of the blonde Slytherin entirely from her mind. Refocusing on her studies, she rose from her seat and headed over to the shelves nearest her, intent on finding a particular book she still needed. The volume, which had not been part of her growing pile, was crucial—it was listed among the required texts Professor Snape had assigned for their current project. Hermione recalled that when she checked earlier, the book was missing from its usual spot. Now, she wondered if it might have been returned in the meantime. She needed it to complete her research, specifically to strengthen her argument about the effectiveness of combining Muggle healing remedies with magical potions. Her thesis centred on the idea that, when mixed to a certain extent, the combination could make a potion significantly more potent. Determined, Hermione scanned the shelves, hoping the elusive text would finally be within reach.
But the book she needed was not there. Hermione let out a frustrated sigh as she leaned back against the shelf, disappointment evident in her posture. Just as she began to wonder where else she might look, she suddenly felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she was surprised to see Draco standing behind her, a book clutched in his hand. He held it out toward her, a slight smirk playing on his lips. ‘Looking for this?’ he asked, holding up the very book she had been searching for.
Hermione nodded, reaching out to take the book from Draco, but he teasingly stepped back, keeping it just out of her reach. A small, playful smile tugged at his lips, clearly enjoying the game. Annoyed, Hermione frowned at him and crossed her arms. ‘I gave you that other book,’ she pointed out, her tone a mix of indignation and exasperation. ‘The least you could do is return the favour.’ She tried again to snatch the book from his grasp, but Draco continued to hold it away from her, the smirk on his face only growing wider as he watched her efforts.
Draco seized Hermione’s outstretched arm, his grip firm yet careful as he gently backed her against the bookshelf. In that instant, all thoughts of the book vanished from her mind, replaced by the intense proximity between them. The book slipped from Draco’s grasp and landed on the floor with a resonant thud, but neither of them paid it any attention. Draco braced one hand against the shelf beside Hermione’s head, effectively caging her in, while his other hand continued to hold her arm, anchoring her in place.
He leaned in closer; his gaze locked with hers, and Hermione felt her breath catch once more. ‘You know, your shyness earlier was rather endearing,’ Draco whispered, his voice low and intimate. The intensity of his eyes bore into hers, making her nerves flutter and her heart race. The playful smirk from before had softened into something more sincere, and Hermione found herself unable to look away. For a moment, the world around them faded, leaving only the charged silence and the awareness of each other’s presence.
Hermione’s breath shuddered as she finally found her voice, her words coming out in a barely audible whisper. ‘This isn’t right,’ she managed, her gaze darting away from Draco’s intense eyes. The closeness between them was overwhelming, and the forbidden nature of their connection weighed heavily on her conscience. Yet, even as she tried to protest, Hermione could not deny the magnetic pull she felt toward him, her heart and mind locked in a battle she was rapidly losing.
Draco’s hand slid up Hermione’s arm with deliberate care, his touch gentle yet charged with intent. Reaching her face, he cupped her cheek, his fingers tracing a tender line along her jaw. Hermione’s breath hitched in her throat as he brushed his thumb softly across her lips, the simple gesture sending a tremor through her. Draco’s lips curled into a smile, clearly pleased by her reaction. ‘Is that how you really feel? Or are you just saying that because I’m the enemy?’ he asked, searching her expression for honesty. As he spoke, his right hand threaded through her hair, pulling her even closer as he pressed himself gently against her, closing the distance both physically and emotionally, making escape—or denial—impossible.
Hermione swallowed hard, her breath catching as she tried to respond. ‘Because you're the—’ she began, but her words were abruptly cut off when Draco's mouth descended on hers. Shock flickered in her wide eyes as the realisation of what was happening dawned on her. For a split second, her mind raced, but then all rational thought melted away. Her eyelids fluttered shut, surrendering to the moment. She felt an electric tingle run through her fingers as Draco's hand intertwined with hers, anchoring her in the present. Her other hand, almost of its own accord, drifted up to caress the side of his face, mirroring the gentle touch he had offered her just moments before.
He finally broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes, his expression softening with an unmistakable warmth. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face as he gently placed his hands on her waist. With a quiet, almost bashful honesty, he admitted, ‘I've wanted to do that since you punched me in third year.’
Her eyes widened, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as she remembered that day. She looked away from him, unable to meet his gaze as the memory surfaced with vivid clarity. Embarrassment and regret flickered across her face, and she hesitated for a moment before finally whispering, ‘I'm sorry.’ The words hung between them, laden with sincerity and vulnerability, as she struggled to find the courage to face him again.
Hermione felt Draco's hand as he took a firm yet gentle hold of her chin, guiding her gaze back to his. ‘Don’t be,’ he said softly, sincerity clear in his expression. ‘I was an arse.’
She looked into his eyes, searching them for any sign that he might be joking. What she found instead was a depth of sincerity that startled her, leaving her momentarily speechless. Still unsure, Hermione frowned at him, her confusion evident. ‘Who are you?’ she asked softly, her voice tinged with disbelief, struggling to reconcile this vulnerable side of Draco with the boy she thought she knew.
Draco let out a soft laugh, the tension between them melting away in the warmth of the moment. ‘A changed man,’ he replied, his voice laced with both amusement and sincerity. Without hesitation, he leaned down and captured Hermione’s lips in another kiss. As he began to pull away, Hermione instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, refusing to let the moment end. One of her hands tangled in his hair, her fingers curling tightly, while the other rested gently on the back of his neck. She deepened the kiss, pouring all her conflicted emotions into it. In response, Draco’s arms circled around her back, drawing her even closer, pinning the two of them together in a shared embrace that spoke of longing, vulnerability, and a connection that neither could deny.
Ginny's voice rang out, sharp and incredulous. ‘He WHAT!?’ she shouted, unable to contain her surprise at Hermione's confession.
Hermione recounted to Ginny everything that had transpired with Draco in the library, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. The memory still felt unreal, and she found herself unconsciously bringing her fingers to her lips, as if to reassure herself that the kiss had truly happened.
‘Yeah, I know, it shocked me too,’ Hermione admitted quietly, her touch lingering at her mouth.
Ginny stared at her, her eyes wide with a complex blend of shock and admiration. ‘You're crazy,’ she blurted out, her tone tinged with a hint of anger that Hermione couldn't quite decipher. ‘Why did you let him kiss you?’ Ginny demanded, her frustration bubbling over as she tried to make sense of her friend's actions.
Hermione let out a weary sigh, her shoulders slumping as she searched for the right words. ‘I don't know,’ she admitted honestly, her voice quiet but steady. ‘It just happened.’ The truth of her statement lingered in the air, conveying both her confusion and the overwhelming nature of her emotions. She met Ginny's gaze, hoping her friend would understand how impossible it was to explain the whirlwind of feelings that had led to that moment. There was no clear reason, no carefully considered decision—just a series of events that unfolded, leaving her vulnerable in their wake.
Ginny leaned forward, her eyes searching Hermione's face for the truth. ‘How long?’ she asked, her tone gentle but persistent, hoping to draw out the confession she suspected was hidden beneath her friend's confusion and vulnerability.
Hermione looked at her, confusion etched across her face. ‘How long what?’ she asked, clearly struggling to follow the direction of Ginny's questioning.
Ginny sighed with exaggerated emphasis and reached out to gently take Hermione’s hands in hers. Looking at her with exasperation, Ginny asked, ‘How long have you been in love with him?’ She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she posed the question, clearly struggling to comprehend what her friend might be feeling.
Hermione stared at her, her eyes narrowing in disbelief at Ginny’s accusation. With a steadfast tone, she replied, ‘Okay, I think you’re the crazy one, my dear Ginny. I am not in love with Malfoy.’ Her words were delivered matter-of-factly, as if stating an undeniable truth, though the tension in her posture suggested she was trying to convince both Ginny and herself of the certainty in her denial.
Ginny shook her head. ‘You're in denial,’ she said, her gaze fixed on Hermione.
Hermione fixed Ginny with a sharp look, her eyes narrowing in challenge. ‘How so?’ she demanded, her voice edged with both defensiveness and curiosity.
Ginny glanced down at her hands. ‘I never believed it,’ she began, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘I used to think, “No, she can't be, it's not possible.” But I noticed the way your eyes would light up whenever you saw him—they still do.’ Ginny paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts as she looked at Hermione, searching her face for understanding. ‘I always thought it was just anger at the things he would say to you, but the way your eyes would shine every time he called you names… it was different.’
Ginny continued, her words laced with concern, ‘Most of the things he said to you really hurt,’ she explained, her gaze steady as Hermione stared back in shock. ‘I heard you crying so many times at night in the Common Room, and I heard you whispering things like, “Why did he say that?” or “How can anyone be so mean?”’
Ginny squeezed Hermione's hand gently, offering her support as she finished speaking. She looked at Hermione again, her expression full of compassion, hoping her friend would finally understand the depth of her own feelings and the impact that Draco's words had always had on her.
Ginny leaned in closer, looking Hermione directly in the eyes. ‘You love him,’ she said gently, the words hanging between them with undeniable certainty. Her tone was not accusatory, but rather filled with understanding, as if she hoped that by saying it aloud, Hermione might finally acknowledge the truth of her feelings—even if just to herself.
Hermione sat utterly still, shock coursing through her as Ginny’s words echoed in her mind. Was it truly possible that Ginny was right—that she, Hermione Granger, was in love with Draco Malfoy? The idea seemed so foreign, so impossible, and yet it resonated somewhere deep inside her, stirring emotions she had worked so hard to ignore. Closing her eyes tightly, Hermione tried to regain control of her thoughts, but the truth pressed in on her from all sides.
‘It wouldn’t matter anyway,’ she whispered, her voice barely audible and tinged with resignation. ‘It’s not like he feels the same. It was just a one-off thing.’ Even as she spoke, Hermione realised that her admission was confirmation of Ginny’s suspicions—she did have feelings for Draco.
The weight of this realisation settled heavily on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. ‘Oh, Merlin…’ she murmured, her words trembling as tears began to well in her eyes. The fear, confusion, and heartache she had tried to bury now threatened to spill over, leaving her feeling exposed. She could no longer deny the truth to herself, no matter how much she wished she could.
Ginny’s arms encircled Hermione, drawing her in for a comforting embrace. ‘He kissed you, didn’t he? Maybe he does feel the same,’ Ginny murmured, offering reassurance as she held her friend close.
Ginny stroked Hermione’s hair gently. ‘Did he say anything to you?’ she asked quietly, her question carrying a mix of curiosity and concern, as she hoped to glean more about Draco’s intentions from Hermione’s experience.
Hermione withdrew from Ginny’s embrace, wiping a tear from her cheek as she tried to steady herself. ‘He said he had wanted to kiss me since I punched him in third year,’ Hermione revealed, her voice trembling at first but growing steadier as she spoke. The memory seemed to lighten the heavy mood, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile at the recollection.
Ginny’s laughter broke through the tension, filling the room with a warmth that eased Hermione’s nerves. For a moment, the pain and confusion faded, replaced by the shared amusement of two friends reflecting on the unlikely beginnings of Hermione’s relationship with Draco Malfoy.
Ginny let out a heavy sigh, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she rolled her eyes. ‘How romantic,’ she remarked, clearly unimpressed by the circumstances. Her reaction provided a brief, if slightly bitter, comic relief amid their emotional conversation, highlighting the absurdity of Draco’s confession and the complicated feelings surrounding it.
Hermione’s gaze dropped to her lap, her shoulders slumping as the truth of her feelings and the reality of Draco’s actions settled over her. ‘He never meant it,’ Hermione said sadly, her tone heavy with disappointment.
Ginny let out a heavy sigh; her expression clouded with concern. ‘Maybe he did though,’ Ginny began softly, leaving open the possibility that Draco’s feelings might have been genuine after all. ‘But there is a problem with this whole thing,’ she whispered, hinting at a complication she was about to reveal.
Hermione’s confusion was evident as she looked at Ginny, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. ‘What problem?’ she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ginny hesitated, her expression shifting as if what she was about to reveal would hurt Hermione more than anything she had heard so far. Lowering her voice to almost a whisper, Ginny finally confessed, ‘He... Malfoy... he has a girlfriend.’
Hermione gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. ‘Oh God,’ she whispered, the words barely audible in the tense silence that followed. For several moments, neither Hermione nor Ginny spoke, the weight of the revelation settling heavily between them. Finally, Hermione turned to look at Ginny, confusion and hurt etched across her face. ‘I thought he was single,’ she said quietly, struggling to make sense of everything. ‘I’ve heard girls in the toilets talking about him being the most wanted bachelor in Hogwarts,’ she explained, her voice trembling as she tried to reconcile the rumours with the reality of Draco's actions.
Ginny offered clarification, her tone gentle but firm as she tried to ease Hermione's confusion. ‘He was single. He only started going out with her today,’ Ginny explained. Her words revealed that, up until this afternoon, Draco had not been involved with anyone. The revelation provided a small measure of comfort, suggesting that Draco’s actions earlier that day were not influenced by an existing relationship. Still, the timing left Hermione wrestling with mixed emotions, as the reality of Draco’s sudden involvement with a new girlfriend cast a new and painful light on everything that had happened.
Hermione shook her head, still reeling from Ginny's revelation. ‘Today? Who is it?’ she asked, her voice strained with apprehension. The urgency in her tone revealed just how desperate she was to understand the situation, clinging to the hope that there might be some mistake or misunderstanding behind Draco’s sudden involvement with someone else.
‘Pansy Parkinson,’ she said hesitantly.
The name hung in the air, heavy with implication and instantly recognisable. Hermione’s heart sank as the reality set in—Draco’s new girlfriend was none other than Pansy Parkinson. The revelation brought a new wave of pain, as Hermione struggled to process the sudden shift in her understanding of Draco’s actions and intentions.
Hermione hesitated. ‘Were they... was he with her when he...?’ she began but couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought. Despite Hermione’s unfinished question, Ginny immediately understood what she was asking. Hermione searched Ginny’s face, desperate for reassurance or clarity.
‘It kinda depends on when he kissed you,’ she answered. The timing of Draco's actions was crucial; understanding whether he kissed Hermione before or after starting his relationship with Pansy could change the meaning behind his behaviour.
Hermione lowered her gaze to the floor; anxiety etched across her face. She hesitated for a moment before glancing out the window, searching for the right words. ‘It was around two this afternoon,’ she said softly, her voice trembling with a mixture of hope and dread. Hermione's eyes pleaded with Ginny, silently begging for reassurance that Draco had started his relationship with Pansy only after that time. Yet beneath her hope was a deep-seated fear—if Ginny's answer confirmed her worst suspicion, it would mean that Draco had kissed her and then, soon after, pursued Pansy, leaving Hermione to grapple with the pain of that possibility.
Ginny's brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to recall the details. Hermione could almost visualize the process as Ginny weighed the information in her mind, searching for clarity amid the confusion.
‘It was after,’ she confirmed, addressing Hermione's unspoken fear. ‘I overheard Astoria Greengrass—she was in the toilets, complaining because she wanted to be with him. Astoria said she saw Draco come into the Slytherin Common Room with a big smile on his face. He walked right up to Pansy and kissed her. Since then, they've been officially going out.’ Ginny's words brought a sense of finality to the situation.
Hermione felt her stomach drop, her heart leaping into her throat as she struggled to hold back tears that threatened to spill over. The pain and humiliation were nearly overwhelming. ‘I knew he was just doing it as a joke,’ she whispered, her voice barely audible and tinged with disbelief.
As she replayed the events in her mind, Hermione’s eyes widened in sudden realisation. The glances Draco had given her throughout the afternoon, coupled with the hostile stares from Pansy, began to fall into place. ‘He was making her jealous,’ Hermione said softly, her voice trembling as a single tear slid down her cheek. The discovery that she had been unwittingly drawn into Draco’s game—used to provoke Pansy’s feelings.
Ginny's brow furrowed in confusion. ‘What?’ Ginny asked her, her voice tinged with concern.
Hermione took a steadying breath; her voice finally calm as she tried to articulate what had become painfully clear. ‘The looks, the smiles—it all makes sense now,’ she began, piecing together the afternoon’s events with a new clarity. ‘Parkinson was in the Library with him this afternoon, and every time he looked in my direction, she was glaring at me. He was making her jealous. He was trying to see if she had feelings for him.’
Hermione continued, her composure belying the storm of emotions raging beneath the surface. ‘That explains the smile he would have had when he went back to his Common Room,’ she said, the pieces falling into place in her mind. ‘She left the Library after she got sick of the smiles he was giving me.’ On the outside, Hermione managed to sound rational and unaffected, but inside, she was screaming—her anger, disappointment, confusion, humiliation, and self-loathing all threatening to overwhelm her.
Ginny shook her head, her confusion evident as she tried to make sense of the situation. ‘Hang on… did he kiss you while Pansy was still in the Library?’ she asked, her eyes narrowing as she sought clarity. Hermione responded with a shake of her head, indicating that Pansy had already left before the kiss happened. Ginny frowned, clearly puzzled by this revelation. ‘That doesn't make sense. He wouldn't be able to make her jealous if he kissed you after she already left the Library,’ she explained, her tone reflecting her struggle to understand Draco's motives.
Hermione shook her head again, still struggling to make sense of the situation. ‘We were standing in an aisle that other students use all the time,’ she explained, her voice tight with emotion. ‘Anyone could have seen us, and he must have known that as well.’ Hermione considered the possibility that their actions had not gone unnoticed. ‘Maybe someone saw us and told someone else, and eventually it got back to Pansy, making her jealous,’ she said, her reasoning tentative but hopeful.
‘He must have seen that she was angry about something, and that would have told him she was jealous. Then, knowing that she still liked him, he went and kissed her,’ Hermione continued, her voice quivering as she tried to keep her composure.
Ginny let out a small shrug, clearly still struggling to make sense of the situation. ‘Maybe,’ she admitted, her tone uncertain. ‘It still doesn't make any sense though,’ she added, turning to face Hermione more directly. ‘Look, the only thing I can think of is that you somehow get over him. You would be crazy to pursue this,’ she warned gently but resolutely, making it clear that she was worried for Hermione and wanted to protect her from further pain.
Hermione smiled sadly, her expression tinged with resignation and sorrow. ‘Maybe I am crazy,’ she whispered, her voice barely audible as she looked at Ginny, tears welling in her eyes.
The vulnerability in Hermione’s gaze spoke volumes, revealing the depth of her inner turmoil and the pain she felt over the situation with Draco. Despite Ginny's concern and warnings, Hermione struggled to let go, her emotions warring between hope and despair. Still, even as she acknowledged the possibility that she was making a mistake, Hermione found herself unable to turn away from the feelings that had taken root, leaving her trapped between longing and heartbreak.
Hermione was right.
Rumours spread rapidly throughout Hogwarts about what had transpired in the library that day. Despite the constant buzz and speculation, Hermione maintained a façade of indifference, acting as though she was completely oblivious to the stories circulating around her. She made a point of ignoring the excited girls who rushed over, eager to bombard her with questions about what it was like to kiss Draco Malfoy. Hermione pushed her way past them, refusing to acknowledge their curiosity, the jealous looks, or the stares she received from the other girls at school.
Despite her efforts to appear unaffected by the swirling rumours and the constant attention, Hermione was acutely aware of the scrutiny she faced. From the male population, she could not ignore the two pairs of eyes glaring at her and the ones that followed her every move. Their intense stares made her feel uncomfortable, as though every step she took was being watched and judged. It was impossible to escape the feeling that she was the centre of unwanted attention, her actions dissected and discussed in hushed whispers throughout the corridors. The weight of their gazes pressed upon her, a constant reminder of the chaos that had erupted since the incident in the library.
She had tried to convince Harry and Ron that the incident was insignificant, attempting to reassure them that it meant nothing to her. However, the two boys, having been her closest friends since their first year at Hogwarts, could easily see through her façade. They recognised the truth behind her words: whatever had happened had affected her far more deeply than she was willing to admit. Despite her insistence that it was of no consequence, her best friends knew her well enough to sense that she was concealing the real impact it had on her emotions.
The blonde in question had not said a word about it. Draco had not tried to talk to her since. In the days that followed, Hermione noticed a distinct shift in his behaviour. He no longer smirked, sneered, or scowled at her as he had so often done in the past. Instead, his actions had become more subtle and quietly attentive. Occasionally, she would catch him winking at her from across the corridor, offering small, almost imperceptible smiles. More than once, she found his gaze lingering on her when he believed no one else was watching.
People had certainly noticed the change in Draco's behaviour towards Hermione, and it did not take long for gossip to erupt. The school was quickly abuzz with ridiculous rumours, many claiming that Draco was carrying on an affair with Hermione behind Pansy's back. The speculation and whispered conversations only served to fuel tension, and before long, Pansy herself became involved.
Incensed by the circulating rumours, Pansy sought out Hermione as she made her way to the Library. Pansy cornered her, her anger palpable, and issued a stark warning. She demanded that Hermione stay away from "my Drakie-poo," making it clear that there would be consequences if Hermione did not heed her warning. Hermione, however, remained outwardly calm, simply nodding in response. Despite the threat, she was confident in her own abilities and knew, deep down, that she could best Pansy in a duel if it ever came to it.
Despite Hermione’s efforts to avoid Draco, her attempts proved futile. He found her once more in a secluded corner of the library, away from the prying eyes of other students. There, Draco pressed her up against the shelves, and their encounter escalated far beyond anything that had happened before. The embrace was passionate and intense, involving much more than just kissing, leaving Hermione breathless and overwhelmed by the sensations she experienced.
Yet, as the initial pleasure faded, Hermione was consumed by an intense sense of guilt. The weight of her actions pressed heavily upon her heart, overshadowing any lingering delight. Unable to bear the turmoil within her, she fled from the library and sought out Ginny. Overwhelmed by emotion, Hermione broke down in tears, crying uncontrollably in Ginny’s presence until she had no tears left to shed.
Throughout the ordeal, Ginny had remained a steadfast and supportive friend to Hermione. She was always there to listen, offering comfort and reassurance in Hermione’s moments of vulnerability and distress. Despite her unwavering loyalty, Ginny could not ignore a growing sense of disappointment in Hermione. She struggled to understand why Hermione had not pushed Malfoy away, especially knowing the potential consequences of becoming involved with him.
Ginny's concern was rooted in her fear that Hermione would ultimately end up hurt. She worried that Hermione was risking too much by allowing the situation with Malfoy to continue, believing it was reckless and dangerous. In Ginny’s eyes, Hermione was making a mistake by letting herself be drawn further into Malfoy's orbit, and she thought her friend was crazy to carry on down this path.
Hermione readjusted her book bag as she made her way through the bustling Entrance Hall, her steps unsteady with the weight of recent events. A group of Slytherins lingered nearby, their presence as menacing as ever. Unconsciously, Hermione found herself scanning the group, her eyes searching for a familiar shock of blonde hair—though she refused to admit to herself why she was looking.
Her attention was quickly drawn by the unmistakable sound of scoffing and jeering. Blaise Zabini, standing at the edge of the group, sneered at her, his voice loud enough for others to hear. ‘He’s not here, Mudblood,’ he taunted, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. Without missing a beat, he added, ‘He’s off shagging Pansy somewhere in the castle.’ The words stung, but Hermione refused to let them see her falter. She met Blaise’s gaze with a glare, her resolve hardening as she deliberately ignored him, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her react.
Theodore Nott stepped forward, his voice cold and laced with disdain as he joined in the jeering. ‘Yeah, give up, Granger. A Mudblood like you would never interest him, even if you were the last girl on this planet!’ he sneered, the words echoing through the bustling Entrance Hall. His comment drew laughter and smirks from the surrounding Slytherins, amplifying the humiliation Hermione felt. She met Theodore’s gaze briefly, her expression hardening before she turned away, refusing to let them see how deeply the insult wounded her.
Hermione was painfully aware of the games they were playing, and though she recognised the truth in their words, she felt powerless to resist. No matter how hard she tried, she could not bring herself to deny Draco when he looked at her in that particular way; her resolve would simply dissolve under his gaze. Against her better judgement, she allowed him to take liberties, surrendering control and letting him dictate the pace of their encounters. In the end, Hermione could not help but let herself fall hopelessly in love with him, even though she knew it was foolish to do so.
Blaise stepped forward, his sneer conveying utter contempt as he addressed Hermione directly. He looked down at her, making it clear he saw her as insignificant, someone unworthy of his respect or even basic decency. ‘He’s just playing with you, Granger,’ Blaise said, his tone dripping with malice. He drew closer, his words intended to inflict maximum hurt. Blaise continued, ‘See, we made a bet to see how long it would take him to bed you. So far, I’m winning, so keep your legs open you little slut, and everyone will be happy.’ Each word was calculated to wound, stripping away Hermione’s dignity and leaving her feeling exposed and humiliated.
Tears welled in Hermione's eyes at the sting of Blaise's cruel words. Was this truly how everyone saw her? The implication that she was nothing more than a filthy slut who would give herself to anyone was almost too much to bear. The venom in his taunts echoed in her mind, amplifying her sense of shame and isolation. As she glanced around, her heart sank further. It wasn't only the Slytherins who were jeering and looking down on her; even students from other Houses, including Hufflepuffs, regarded her with disdain. Their cold, judgemental stares made Hermione feel utterly worthless, as if she was nothing more than dirt in their eyes.
Hermione turned away from the corridor, determined to distance herself from the stares, whispers, and biting insults that followed her from people she had once considered friends or at least acquaintances. The weight of their judgement was almost unbearable, each glance and remark cutting deeper than the last. Seeking a place to escape, she slipped into Myrtle's bathroom, knowing it was one of the few places where she could find solitude and not be disturbed.
Relief washed over her upon discovering that Myrtle was nowhere to be seen. Grateful for the privacy, Hermione sat down against the cold wall, wrapping her arms tightly around her knees. The isolation of the room provided a small measure of comfort, allowing her to finally let go. Tears streamed down her face as she cried quietly, her sobs echoing off the tiled walls. The sound seemed to mock her pain, increasing the sense of loneliness and despair that had settled within her.
Hermione’s sobs became choked and uneven as she caught the sound of the bathroom door opening. Panic fluttered in her chest, forcing her to hold her breath for a moment. Across the room, an angry string of curses echoed, followed by the sharp sound of hands slamming down onto a sink. Hermione shifted slightly to her left, curiosity and dread mingling as she carefully peered around her hiding spot. Her heart skipped when she caught sight of a familiar head of blonde hair. For a brief, tense moment, he looked up—Hermione was certain he had seen her—but his gaze met only his own reflection in the mirror. She quickly pulled back, not wanting to be discovered, but fresh tears sprang to her eyes, and she could not suppress the quiet sob that escaped her lips. With her head buried against her knees, Hermione knew there was no way he hadn’t heard her pain.
*~*~*~*Draco's POV*~*~*~*
He was fuming.
Hell, he was beyond that even.
There was not a word to describe how angry he felt. They had crossed a line this time. Draco had witnessed everything—the cruel words and malicious taunts directed at Hermione. He saw the pain they inflicted, saw her composure shatter as she fled in tears. Fury surged through him, and without hesitation, he strode towards the group responsible, his anger barely contained. The injustice of their actions ignited something fierce within him, propelling him forward in a rage that demanded retribution.
Without warning, Draco lashed out, his fist connecting solidly with Blaise's jaw and sending him sprawling to the floor. The sharp crack of the punch echoed through the corridor, punctuating the tension that hung in the air. Blaise scrambled back up, clutching his face in shock and anger. ‘What the bloody hell was that for!’ Blaise shouted, his voice thick with anger as he glared at Draco. The pain was evident in his tone, and a dark bruise was already beginning to blossom across his jaw from Draco’s punch. Blaise’s eyes narrowed in fury, clearly unprepared for the sudden violence and humiliation he had just suffered at Draco’s hands.
Draco glared at Blaise, his voice rising in frustration and anger. ‘You know as well as I do that what you just said to Granger isn't true! There is no bet!’ he shouted, his fists clenched at his sides. The accusation hung heavily between them, the tension palpable. Draco took a shaky breath, trying to rein in his temper. ‘What happened between us—between me and Granger—was just a spur of the moment. I have already explained this!’ His words echoed down the corridor, desperate to set the record straight and put an end to the malicious rumours swirling around them.
Blaise sneered at him; his tone laced with venom. ‘The second time as well? Or what about the third?’ he asked maliciously, each word calculated to provoke Draco further. Blaise’s eyes glittered with accusation as he stepped closer, his voice rising so those gathered could hear. The implication was clear—Blaise was determined to drag every rumour and perceived betrayal into the open, unwilling to let Draco escape the scrutiny of their peers.
Draco's eyes widened in shock, his expression a careful mask as he tried to deflect the accusation. ‘What are you talking about?’ he asked, feigning ignorance and attempting to play dumb. Despite his efforts, the tension in the corridor remained palpable, the gathered students watching closely for any sign that Draco might crack under the pressure.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the charged atmosphere, interrupting Draco's attempts to deflect Blaise's accusations. ‘You know what he is talking about,’ came a voice from behind him. The words were calm yet laced with a firmness that demanded attention. Draco turned abruptly, recognising the speaker immediately.
He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of everything upon him, and turned to face the owner of that voice. ‘Pansy, I–’ he started to speak, hoping to explain himself or perhaps to apologise. However, before he could finish, Pansy interrupted him, her tone sharp and unyielding, making it clear she was not prepared to listen to any excuses or explanations.
‘The first time, I thought you only did it to make me jealous. You came back, kissed me, and asked me out, so I let it go,’ she said, her words sharp and hurt laced in her tone. ‘But the other times... I can’t ignore them, Draco. The rumours are coming from entirely different people, and they’re all saying the same thing. You cheated on me twice with a Mudblood!’ her voice rose as she shouted the accusation, her pain and betrayal plain for all to see.
Draco’s anger boiled over, and without thinking, he shouted, ‘Don’t call her that!’ The words escaped him before he could rein them in, his voice echoing down the corridor. He knew instantly that it was a mistake, that speaking up in Hermione’s defence would only make matters worse for both of them. But in that moment, he could not bear to hear Pansy or anyone else use that hateful slur against Hermione. The tension in the corridor grew even thicker, the shocked faces of the watching students turning towards Draco in disbelief at his outburst. Draco’s jaw tightened, but he refused to back down, meeting their gazes with a defiant glare, silently daring anyone to challenge him further.
Pansy stared at him, her expression frozen in shock. For a moment, she seemed unable to process what she had just heard. Her eyes widened, disbelief etched across her face as she struggled to find her voice. 'Oh, Merlin... you actually love her, don't you?' she whispered, the accusation laced with pain. Her voice broke on the last word, the realisation settling in as tears began to well in her eyes.
Draco shook his head in denial, the truth weighing heavily on him despite his protests. He knew deep down that Pansy was right—his feelings for Hermione went far beyond anything he could admit aloud, especially with so many eyes upon him. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to confess, not here, not now. ‘No, Pansy... I don't—’ he began, attempting to reach out to her, but she cut him off abruptly. With a sharp movement, she slapped his hands away, making it clear she wanted no comfort or explanation from him.
Pansy recoiled, her voice trembling with outrage and pain as she glared at Draco. ‘Don't touch me with those tainted hands! You have touched that disgusting Mudblood!’ she shouted, the venom in her words echoing down the corridor and drawing the attention of everyone present. Her accusation cut through the charged atmosphere, leaving a stunned silence in its wake. Unable to bear the humiliation and heartbreak, tears welled up in her eyes as she turned abruptly, fleeing from Draco and the gathered students, her sobs echoing behind her as she ran.
Draco let out a weary sigh, turning away from the group he once considered friends. ‘Thanks, guys,’ he muttered bitterly, unable to mask his frustration as he stormed off, anger simmering just beneath the surface. His feet carried him through the corridors without thought or direction, his mind clouded by a whirlwind of emotion. Before he realised it, he found himself standing outside the entrance to Myrtle's bathroom. With a burst of pent-up rage, he pushed the door open forcefully, the sound echoing through the empty space as he muttered a string of curses—ones so foul that he imagined his late grandmother, Lucretia, would have been appalled had she heard them.
Still fuming, Draco strode over to the row of sinks and slammed his hands down on the cold porcelain, the force sending a jolt up his arms. He paused, chest heaving, and closed his eyes for a moment before lifting his gaze to the mirror. There, his own reflection stared back at him, troubled and uncertain. Why did he care so deeply? How had he allowed himself to fall so completely for her? She was a Gryffindor, after all, and the best friend of his school nemesis. Yet, despite every reason he should have had to keep his distance, Draco could not help the way his heart ached for her, even as confusion and frustration warred within him.
He should hate her, not love her.
It made no sense—every lesson pounded into him since childhood, every expectation of his family, every bitter rivalry between their Houses—none of it aligned with the feelings that kept threatening to overwhelm him. She was supposed to be his enemy, an untouchable symbol of everything he was meant to despise. Yet, instead of loathing, all he could feel was the ache in his chest whenever he thought of her, the longing to be near her, and the guilt for caring so deeply. The conflict raged inside him, a battle between what he’d been taught and what his heart insisted was true.
As Draco stood at the sink, his intention to splash cold water on his face was interrupted by the sound of a quiet sob coming from the other side of the sinks. His hand halted mid-motion, hovering above the tap as his attention was suddenly drawn to the source of the noise. Glancing around the bathroom, his eyes settled on a figure sitting on the floor against the wall, her head resting on her knees. There was no need for him to see her face to recognise who she was; he knew instantly. Compelled by a mix of concern and unresolved emotion, Draco made his way towards her, his footsteps echoing in the emptiness of the bathroom as he approached.
Hermione looked up at Draco, her movements swift and desperate as she rose to her feet. Without hesitation, she tried to dart past him towards the door, intent on escaping the vulnerable moment they found themselves in. However, Draco was quicker, reaching out and grasping her arm before she could slip away. She struggled, attempting to pull free from his hold, but her efforts were futile against his determined grip.
‘Get off me,’ she demanded, her voice raw and strained from all the tears she had shed. Despite her protest, Draco refused to let go, gently but firmly drawing her into his embrace. Hermione didn’t resist further, yet she remained passive, her arms hanging at her sides rather than returning his hug. ‘Please,’ she whispered softly against his shoulder, her words trembling as much as his body, which shook with emotion. Draco, sensing her distress, began to comfort her: one hand stroked her hair, while the other traced soothing circles on the small of her back, offering silent reassurance amid their turmoil.
‘I heard them,’ he whispered, the anger surfacing again. His voice was low and tight, barely controlled, as though he was struggling to contain the fury that still simmered beneath the surface. The memory of the cruel words and accusations echoed in his mind, each one rekindling the frustration and pain he felt for Hermione's sake. His jaw clenched, and his gaze hardened, making it clear that he would not forget the way she had been treated, nor would he allow it to go unchallenged. Despite the turmoil within him, he kept his hold on her gentle, his actions a stark contrast to the storm raging inside.
She pulled away, her gaze searching his face for answers. As her eyes met his, Draco felt a sharp ache in his chest, realising just how vulnerable she looked in that moment. Confusion clouded her features, mingling with a deep sense of hurt and anger that flickered across her expression. She seemed lost, adrift in a sea of emotion, unsure of what to believe or how to feel. Her voice trembled as she finally spoke, the single word carrying the weight of all her doubts and pain. ‘Why?’ she asked, her question heavy with longing for understanding.
Draco met Hermione’s gaze, his eyes steady and unwavering. He did not need her to clarify her question; he understood immediately what she sought to know. ‘It wasn't true. None of it,’ he assured her, the words tumbling out. ‘I never lied once. I meant every word, every kiss, and every caress. It was all genuine.’ As he spoke, Draco reached up, his fingers gentle as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind Hermione’s ear. He pressed a tender kiss to the tears that traced down her cheeks, his actions conveying the depth of his feelings as clearly as his words.
‘Why me?’ she asked, closing her eyes. Her question lingered between them, fraught with vulnerability and a desperate need for understanding. Hermione’s voice trembled, revealing the raw edge of her confusion and pain. She searched Draco’s face, her eyes wide and uncertain, longing for reassurance. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken questions and the echo of old wounds. In that moment, Hermione laid bare her fears, yearning to know why, out of everyone, he had chosen her—despite their differences, despite everything that stood between them. Her words encapsulated all the heartache and doubt she felt, reflecting the turmoil within her heart as she stood before him, waiting for an answer she hoped would bring her solace.
‘I don't know,’ Draco whispered honestly, his tone gentle and sincere. There was a vulnerability in his admission, a quiet acknowledgement that he did not have all the answers she sought. His gaze lingered on her face, searching for understanding as he squeezed her hand.
Hermione’s voice wavered as she finally spoke, her eyes searching Draco’s face with desperate vulnerability. ‘What am I to you?’ she asked him, needing to know the answer.
Draco’s gaze dropped for a moment as he gently entwined his fingers with Hermione’s, lifting their joined hands to his lips in a tender gesture. He pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned in to give her a gentle, reassuring kiss. Pulling back slightly, Draco met her gaze with unwavering sincerity. ‘Everything,’ he answered quietly, the word carrying the full weight of his feelings. He pressed another delicate kiss to her lips, as if to further affirm his devotion. Drawing back once more, Draco searched Hermione’s eyes, his voice barely more than a whisper as he spoke. ‘You are everything to me.’ With that, he drew her closer, this time capturing her in a more passionate kiss, pouring all his emotion and honesty into the embrace, leaving no doubt as to the depth of his feelings for her.
The following morning, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger made their way through the castle corridors, their hands entwined for all to see. The unexpected sight drew immediate attention from students and staff alike, creating an atmosphere thick with curiosity. Hermione’s gaze darted nervously from face to face, her anxiety evident as she took in the myriad of reactions surrounding them.
Expressions ranged widely—some faces were etched with shock at the unlikely pairing, while others betrayed envy, confusion, and outright anger. A few looked on with open loathing, unable to conceal their contempt for the two. The hallways, once familiar and welcoming, now felt unwelcoming, the couple’s presence sparking a mixture of emotions that rippled through the crowd with every step they took.
Of all the people in the castle, only Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood stood by Hermione and Draco, accepting their relationship without judgement. The unwavering support from Ginny and Luna was a lifeline for Hermione during these turbulent times, and the bond between the three girls grew stronger as they weathered the disapproval of others together. Ginny and Luna became Hermione’s closest confidantes, offering her much-needed understanding and friendship when she felt most isolated.
Despite this, Hermione could not ignore the ache left by Harry and Ron’s rejection. The pain of losing her two oldest friends was profound, and no amount of support from Ginny and Luna could quite fill that void. Ron’s behaviour was particularly cutting; he began referring to her by her surname, a distance that stung more than any harsh word. Although Harry’s anger seemed to have faded, it was replaced by a cold indifference marked by disappointment—a look that struck Hermione to her core. This silent, lingering disapproval from Harry hurt her in ways she struggled to put into words, making her feel more alone than ever despite the friends who remained by her side.
As the couple made their way through the Entrance Hall, they drew the attention of Ron and Harry, who both stopped in their tracks, staring at them in disbelief. Ron, unable to contain his emotions, let out a string of furious curses, while Harry’s face twisted with clear disgust at the sight before him. Draco shot them a cold glare, his protective instinct flaring as he turned towards Hermione. Leaning in close, he spoke softly, his words meant for her alone. ‘Go on, I’ll follow in a second,’ he whispered, his tone gentle despite the tension in the air. With a tender gesture, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, offering her comfort.
Hermione’s voice trembled as she looked up at Draco worriedly. ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked him.
Draco met Hermione’s worried gaze, offering her a reassuring smile. ‘You'll see,’ he replied softly, his eyes filled with determination. Hermione watched as he turned away and strode purposefully towards Harry and Ron. She paused in the entrance, glancing back over her shoulder at him, confusion etched on her face as she tried to decipher his intentions.
From her vantage point, Hermione saw Draco approach Harry and Ron with a resolute expression. The tension between the three was palpable as Draco joined them, and without a word, the trio moved off together down a side corridor, disappearing from sight. Hermione’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched them go, unable to shake the worry that Draco might let his emotions get the better of him. Despite her anxious thoughts, she could only hope that he would handle the situation with care and not do anything reckless.
Hermione made her way purposefully to the Gryffindor table, pointedly choosing not to acknowledge the curious and sometimes hostile glances directed her way. She settled into a seat beside Ginny, who greeted her with a warm and encouraging smile. Across from them, Luna sat absorbed in her upside-down copy of the Quibbler but looked up when Hermione joined them. With a dreamy smile, Luna addressed her, ‘Good afternoon, Hermione. How are you on this beautiful day?’ Luna’s whimsical greeting provided a brief and welcome respite from the tension that lingered in the air.
Hermione raised her eyebrows at Luna’s greeting, noting privately that it was hardly afternoon—after all, it was still early morning—and, to make matters more peculiar, torrential rain was beating against the castle windows. Nonetheless, Hermione chose not to correct Luna’s whimsical observation. Instead, she offered the girl a gentle smile and replied, ‘I’m fine, thanks.’
Luna appeared completely unfazed by Hermione’s response, her attention fixed on the upside-down Quibbler in her hands. Without looking up, she suddenly announced, ‘Oh good. They found the Keepas who were conspiring against the Minister,’ referring to an article she was reading. Ginny and Hermione exchanged bewildered glances, both momentarily at a loss as they tried to make sense of Luna’s typically peculiar statement. After a brief, silent moment, they each turned away, leaving Luna absorbed in her own world, as enigmatic as ever.
Ginny looked at Hermione, her smile broadening with an air of triumph. She leaned in slightly, her tone tinged with more smugness than Hermione would have preferred, and teased, ‘So? Was I right or was I right?’ Ginny’s playful attitude was unmistakable, and Hermione could not help but recognise the satisfaction in her friend’s voice as she made the point.
Hermione let out a reluctant sigh; her cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment. ‘You were right,’ she admitted to Ginny, her tone carrying a grumble that couldn’t quite mask her resignation.
Ginny threw her fist into the air, her face alight with satisfaction. ‘Ha! The great Hermione Granger, Miss Always Right, just admitted that I was right! Oh, this is a most glorious day!’ she declared, her laughter ringing out as Hermione swatted her arm in mock reproach. Despite the playful gesture, Ginny could tell Hermione was far from angry; in fact, there was a hint of amusement in her eyes.
However, Ginny’s moment of triumph was short-lived. Glancing up from her celebration, she let out a groan and leaned closer to Hermione, lowering her voice to a whisper. ‘Oh no, here comes trouble,’ she muttered, bracing herself for what was to come.
Hermione looked up as Harry and Ron approached, their demeanour uncertain and apologetic. She glanced past them, catching Draco’s eye across the room. He offered her a reassuring wink before making his way around the table to stand just behind her, silently lending his support. With a subtle arch of his eyebrow, Draco regarded the two boys, prompting Hermione to return her attention to them.
Ron and Harry exchanged awkward glances, the tension between them clear. Ron, ever the less subtle of the pair, gave Harry a firm nudge, urging him to speak. Harry hesitated, then, under Ron’s prompting, finally found his voice. ‘I’m—’ he began, only for Ron to nudge him again, impatience written on his face. Realising what was expected, Harry corrected himself. ‘We’re sorry,’ he managed, stealing a quick, apprehensive glance at Hermione as he spoke.
Hermione looked at Harry, her expression softening. ‘You’re forgiven, Harry,’ she said gently, offering him a reassuring smile. Then, turning her attention to Ron, she added pointedly, ‘But Ron can speak for himself,’ she said, making it clear she expected Ron to apologise directly, rather than relying on Harry to do it for him.
Draco regarded Ron with a pointed look, his tone both challenging and encouraging as he interjected, ‘Good shout, Hermione. Come on, Weasley, spit it out.’ The comment earned him a sharp glare from Ron, who clearly did not appreciate the prompting. Tension lingered between the two, Draco’s words serving both as a nudge for Ron to apologise and as a subtle display of support for Hermione. Ron, however, seemed determined to resist, his irritation evident as he continued to meet Draco’s gaze with defiance.
Harry took a seat at the table, pouring himself a generous glass of pumpkin juice. He glanced over at Ron, who resolutely avoided meeting Hermione’s gaze, his attention fixed on anything else in the room. Sensing his friend’s reluctance, Harry nudged Ron in the side, earning a sharp glare in response. Nevertheless, under Harry’s silent encouragement and Hermione’s expectant look, Ron finally gave in. He let out a resigned sigh and, after a brief pause, turned towards Hermione. His voice was quiet and apologetic as he mumbled, ‘I’m sorry, Hermione,’ his tone sheepish and sincere.
Hermione’s expression softened as she looked at Ron. A gentle smile touched her lips, and she leaned forward slightly. ‘You’re forgiven,’ she whispered, the words carrying genuine warmth. As she spoke, she felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, emotion welling up at the relief of reconciliation and the support of her friends.
Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat, casting a wary glance in Draco's direction. His expression revealed a mix of reluctance and determination as he leaned towards Hermione and muttered, ‘I can't say I like this though, but I'm willing to tolerate it.’ The words were clipped, his tone tinged with irritation as his eyes lingered on Draco, clearly signalling his disapproval. However, beneath Ron's glare, there was a sense of begrudging acceptance—an acknowledgement that, for Hermione’s sake, he would try to set aside his feelings, at least for now.
Draco stepped forward and gently placed his hands on Hermione’s shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. Turning his gaze towards Ron, Draco couldn’t resist rolling his eyes in amusement at Ron’s begrudging acceptance. With a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, he addressed Ron in a light, teasing tone. ‘Good boy,’ Draco remarked, the words laced with both humour and a touch of mischief as he acknowledged Ron’s efforts to make peace for Hermione’s sake.
Ron fixed Draco with a sharp glare, clearly bristling at the other boy's teasing. His eyes narrowed in annoyance as he retorted, ‘Don't patronise me!’ The words came out clipped and tense, emphasising the simmering frustration Ron felt at being mocked. Despite Draco’s light-hearted tone, Ron’s irritation was unmistakable, and the moment hung heavily in the air, the tension palpable between them as the group watched the exchange.
‘Hey, hey! Calm down!’ Draco exclaimed, his voice rising into a comically high pitch. The sudden change in tone caught everyone’s attention. Harry, unable to contain himself, snorted into his pumpkin juice, nearly spilling it in his amusement. Hermione, ever the composed one, quickly brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle, her eyes sparkling with mirth. Ginny, less restrained, burst into outright laughter, the sound ringing out across the table. Luna, meanwhile, glanced around the room with a dreamy expression, as if only just realising she was surrounded by her friends. The tension that had lingered moments before was instantly dispelled, replaced by a wave of light-hearted laughter and camaraderie, thanks to Draco’s unexpected antics.
Hermione looked up at Draco, her face lighting up with a radiant smile as he leaned down and pressed a gentle, affectionate kiss to her lips. The tenderness of the moment was unmistakable, and for a brief instant, it felt as though they were the only two people in the world.
Across the table, Ron and Harry exchanged dramatic looks of mock disgust, each pretending to gag at the sight. Ginny, however, was far less amused by their antics, shooting them a stern glare that warned them to behave.
Meanwhile, Draco and Hermione remained blissfully unaware of the reaction around them, completely absorbed in each other and the happiness they found together.
As the weeks slipped by, Hermione and Draco remained steadfastly together, their relationship continuing despite the persistent speculation swirling around them. Within the castle, whispers circulated not only amongst the students but even among the teachers, all eager to see how long this unlikely pairing would last. Gossip flourished, with many convinced Draco would inevitably betray Hermione, citing his previous infidelity with Pansy as evidence. The phrase “once a cheat, always a cheat” was repeated with knowing looks and raised eyebrows.
Draco was aware of the rumours that followed him, their voices echoing through the corridors. Determined to prove everyone wrong, he tried to show that he was truly committed to Hermione. Yet, beneath his bravado, anxiety gnawed at him. The doubts voiced by others began to take root, and he worried that Hermione might also be questioning his loyalty, uncertain if she truly believed in him.
The afternoon sun cast a golden glow across the surface of the lake as Draco and Hermione strolled side by side along the shore. The gentle lapping of water and the distant calls of birds provided a soothing backdrop, but Draco’s mind was elsewhere, preoccupied with the words he had longed to say for weeks.
Suddenly, Draco paused, turning to face Hermione. He reached out, taking both her hands in his, his touch gentle but insistent. Hermione noticed the seriousness in his eyes and frowned slightly, curiosity etched across her features. Draco hesitated, licking his lips nervously as he searched her face, willing her to understand the depth of emotion he was struggling to express. He tried to convey everything he felt for her through the intensity of his gaze and the earnestness of his expression.
Steeling himself, Draco stepped a little closer, his thumbs softly caressing her hands. With deliberate care, he let go of one hand and brought his own up, tracing the curve of Hermione’s cheek with the back of his fingers. The gesture was intimate, filled with tenderness and vulnerability as he looked into her eyes. ‘I… I love you,’ Draco whispered, his voice barely audible but charged with emotion. Hermione’s eyes widened in astonishment, clearly caught off guard by his confession. She opened her mouth, searching for a response, but the words eluded her. Instead, she acted on instinct, closing the distance between them and pressing her lips to his.
The initial shock gave way to passion as their kiss deepened, both swept up in the intensity of the moment. When they finally broke apart, Draco rested his forehead gently against hers, his breath mingling with hers. He looked deeply into her eyes, his voice steady this time as he repeated, ‘I do. I love you.’
Hermione’s lips curved into a radiant smile as she gazed at Draco, her eyes reflecting warmth and certainty. She leaned in, her voice gentle and sincere. ‘I love you too,’ she whispered, the words soft but full of conviction. Closing the small distance between them, she kissed him, the gesture tender and filled with affection. In that moment, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, united by the feelings they had finally voiced.
A/N: Please let me know what you think in a review/love/kudos ♥
ns216.73.216.13da2
and then Add to home screen.