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The wall of bookshelves in the central common room of the Head suite, interrupted by a fireplace in the center, was organized in three broad sections. The left section was occupied by old textbooks of the previous seven years, as well as fat binders of notes and secondary source material and additional books that she’d used during essays and projects. She thought of it as the ‘schooling section’.
The middle section, flanking the fireplace on either side, held popular Wizarding novels and non fiction that she’d read for pleasure. She was a fan of several series sets though it was by far the slimmest section. Often, she didn’t have the budget for all the wizarding books she wanted to own and relegated to simply visiting them in the library. There was also a decent amount of biographies and autobiographies of well-known witches and wizards she admired for one reason or another.
The right section was filled with all of her muggle books from home, both the ones that occupied her room growing up and all the ones she’d taken when she obliviated her parents. She had planted a false memory of the international moving company misplacing a few boxes on their move to Australia.
All she had left of her parents were the books and her father’s old King’s College London hoodie, his aftershave scent faintly present when she slipped it on. From her childhood Anne of Green Gables and Nancy Drew collection to her father’s Lord of the Rings collector sets and some of his college medical texts to her mother’s Julia Childs cookbooks and favorite Wuthering Heights copy. It was all the physical reminder she had left of them, all that she’d ever have.
It had taken her two hours to organize the books and as she looked over the ordered spines she felt nothing. No comfort or even bittersweet memories. She felt hollow. Like the good parts of her had been scooped out and she’d been left to dry in the sun. A husk.
Harry and Ron opted not to return for the optional make-up eighth year. Neither had Ginny, despite Molly and Hermione’s protests- she’d opted to do her NEWTs by mail and joined the Hollyhead Harpies when offered the position. Harry and Ron went to Auror training, begging Hermione to come. She couldn’t. She felt like a ghost.
She’d killed five Death Eaters during the final battle. The crimes were pardoned instantly by Kingsley, the new Minister of Magic. She didn’t even have a trial.
She’d obliterated her existence from the mind of her parents.
She didn’t know who she was anymore.
As she sat on the floor, staring at her mother’s copy of Wuthering Heights, the portrait clicked and swung open, Draco Malfoy stepping inside. Malfoy. He was her co-Head, what a cosmic joke. Her roommate until the end of June.
It would be a long final year.
“Hello” he greeted, dipping his head slightly. His trunk hovered behind him. She ignored him and he seemed to catch the hint, disappearing into unclaimed bedroom.
She closed the book, carefully placing it in the gap in the shelves where it belonged and finished unpacking her trunk. She was contemplating making a pot of tea when the small brass bell that mounted on the fireplace mantle rung out.
A Floo call. Headmistress McGonagall made an exception and allowed access from only 12 Grimmauld Place and only for fire-calls, not Floo travel, thanks to a restricted Floo license.
Hermione sat in front of the fireplace as Harry’s head appeared in green flames.
“Hermione!” He exclaimed with a wide smile. Even distorted through the flickering flames, he looked joyful.
“Harry” she smiled and it felt odd on her face “Hello!”
“How is the first day going, Head Girl? Who is Head Boy?” He asked, looking around as if to catch a glimpse.
“Oh, I don’t know yet. I’ve been in and out all day. How was Auror training?” She asked, lying easily. She didn’t want to have a discussion about Malfoy, especially not with him certainly listening in the other room. Ron would insist on it being unsafe, Harry would tell her to remain vigilant.
“Really?.. It was good. It was a physical training day, so our arses are kicked! Oi- Ron wants to say hello-“ Harry laughed before Ron’s head replace his.
“Mione” Ron smiled, boyish and charming as ever, Hermione felt her stomach swoop in a sickly drop. She worried that her explanation about not wanting a romantic relationship with him might not have stuck.
“Hey, so you think we could go to Hogsmead in a few weeks? Or maybe McGonagall would let you use the office Floo to take a weekend trip here-“
“I’m not sure, Ron. I’ve got a full timetable, plus Head Girl duties and tutoring the first years.. I’ll let you know.”
“Hermione, we’re going out for supper with some other trainees” Harry replaced Ron again, he lowered his voice “You’ve eaten yet? Just eat something-“
“I just finished supper before you called” she forced a smile “A cottage pie. Don’t worry about me. You boys have fun- ta!”
She ended the call and slumped down. The lies felt heavy in her chest but she shoved them away and went to start a kettle for a cuppa. She knew that Harry knew she was off. Ron was oblivious, so oblivious that she truly wondered how he’d be an Auror. Maybe it was just her that he had a blind spot for.
She had caught Harry staring at her during Burrow dinners, when she pushed food around her plate, or vanished it when no one was looking. One morning, at Grimmauld, he’d seen her pulling off her sweatshirt and she saw him visibly pale.
“Hermione” he said quietly “You- how much do you weigh? You are- you’re smaller than when we were camping-“
After that she was more careful, wearing bulkier clothes and she made a point to take a bite of something in front of him often, even if that was the only thing she ate that day. It seemed to make him happy. Really, Harry had worried enough for a lifetime and she didn’t need add herself to it. She wanted him to be happy and while she missed him at school, she knew the Aurory was good for him.
While she was in the kitchen pulling the tin down, she heard Malfoy’s drawl.
“Why did you lie?” He asked quietly, no malice, just curiosity.
“Hmm?” She asked, feigning innocence, dropping the tea bag in her mug.
“About me, about dinner” he elaborated, she didn’t look but she knew he was staring at her. She shrugged.
“It’s not their business” she simply said, waiting for the kettle to scream “Nor yours.”
“Interesting” he simply said.
He walked over to the bookcase and studied the titles, inspecting the muggle section the closest to him and asked “Would you mind if I borrowed a book?”
“No” she said truthfully “Just put them back when you’re done, please.”
She poured her boiling water into her mug and set off to her room, where she remained the rest of the night.
-
Hermione kept to herself.
None of her close friends were attending that year so, she didn’t bother with small talk or socializing. Neville and Luna had taken work-study apprenticeships elsewhere, Dean took his NEWTs by correspondence, Seamus was with him of course.
She wanted to do her Head Girl duties and ace her NEWTs. She held a inter-house first year’s study group on Monday and Thursdays afternoons. She held prefect meetings on Tuesday mornings. She hosted detentions every Wednesday. She proctored exams on Fridays, during her free periods. She patrolled on weekends. She kept her days busy and organized. She went through the motions.
Before she knew it, it was October 1st and her first month was a blur, thankfully behind her. She’d missed her own birthday, somehow.
“So, Headmistress McGonagall has tasked us with throwing a Samhain Dance” Hermione announced at the prefect’s meeting. The prefects chattered happily at this, Malfoy stood behind Hermione, leaning against the desk, his arms crossed with a neutral expression.
“Is it costumed?” chirped a fifth year Ravenclaw girl, Edwina Dexminius.
“Yes, I think that would be a good route” Hermione nodded, “We’ll spread out prep duties via this sign up sheet, included rounds during the dance-“
The room groaned in protest.
“-No need for that. I’m only asking for thirty minute slots for four different people. You all will still be able to enjoy the dance just fine. We’ll also need several decorating spots, as well as some of you adept at charms for some of the more advanced work- flying paper bats and mock fog.. that sort of thing.”
The room seemed more pleased at that.
“Are you going with Ron Weasley?” asked a gossipy Hufflepuff girl named Ambrosia Welk.
“No, I’ll be chaperoning for the duration- any relevant questions?” she answered flatly, no one raised a hand, “Well, that’s all for today. Consult the weekly timetable for your assigned patrol and detention duties, and please sign the Dance signup sheet as soon as possible. Thank you and have a good week.”
After Prefects had mostly filtered out after stopping at the sign up sheet, she heard Malfoy speak behind her.
“Why are you doing that? Chaperoning the whole time, instead of a thirty minute shift.”
“So more students could enjoy themselves. I couldn’t care less about a silly dance” she answered, gathering her bag.
“If I sign up for night-long spot, how many of the short shifts would be eliminated?” He asked, one raised brow.
“Oh, uh, I suppose.. the rest of them, effectively. Considering you’d likely be more astute and active in your rounds, there wouldn’t be a need-“
“Well, sign me up then. I haven’t got anything better to do any way.”
“Alright” she said simply, crossing out the short shift spaces and writing Malfoy’s name under hers.
“Have a good day, Granger” the tall blond drawled. She turned around at the door and studied his face for a moment, for a mocking expression, but found none.
“…You as well” she finally said, stiffly, disappearing out of the doorframe.
“Have you been to Shrivenshaft’s?” Malfoy asked randomly on Saturday morning as they readied for a Hogsmead chaperone shift.
“Yes, of course” she answered as she separated her hair down the middle and used a French plaiting charm Pavarti taught her sixth year. She did one side, then the other, checking in the mirror to ensure her hair was properly bound back. It was supposed to be a cold, windy day and she wanted her hair out of her face.
“I usually buy from Knockturn Alley, there’s a booth in Borgin’s I quite like.. anyway, I need to buy some ink today” he explained while tying his scarf “I’m out.”
“They have ink there” she simply answered, applying a coat of clear chapstick to keep her lips from chapping. She wore thick black tights, a wool skirt, jumper and leather boots. She pulled her trusty pea coat from the entry closet.
“Maybe you can help me choose a few bottles, let me know what brands to avoid” he spoke again.
“Alright” she nodded, pouring hot water into her travel thermos, dropping two lemon slices and a cinnamon stick inside before sealing it shut. She caught him looking at her mug, she ignored him and opened the portrait. He followed behind her.
.
“I’ve liked Iggy’s Inks Midnight Sky, it dries with a sheen. I’ve also used Beetle Black, which was nice. Standard, matte, and it comes in a trio pack” Hermione said, picking up a squat glass bottle.
“Have you tried Dragon’s Blood? I like the hue” he asked, examining the liquid against the light.
“No, but it’s the same brand. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I didn’t care for this brand, No-Smudge Elite Inks. It dried out quickly.”
“Noted” Malfoy nodded, pulling several bottles and placing them in his shopping basket.
Hermione gathered a few backup quills and a package of parchment.
While he paid for his ink, he insisted on paying for her items as well. No amount of her protests worked so she just thanked him and took it.
“Why don’t we get lunch at Broomsticks?” Malfoy offered “My treat.”
“No thank you, I’m not hungry yet” she answered automatically.
“You’ve only had that hot lemon water all day, Granger.”
“I ate breakfast before you got up.”
“No, you didn’t” he rolled his eyes, “You know, my mother drank hot lemon water in lieu of meals during gala season. Are you trying to fit into a ballgown?”
“Please” she scoffed, then spotted two Hufflepuffs annoying a lone Ravenclaw “Leave her alone, boys!”
The boys instantly separated and walked off.
“I figured you’re not the season dieting sort” he shrugged, hands in his coat pockets, “So, I find it curious that you don’t eat. You don’t eat in the Great Hall, you patrol instead. I also can tell you’ve charmed your uniforms to fit. Is that because they were baggy?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Malfoy” Hermione ignored him, “I’m going to lap the other direction, you take the south end.”
He ignored her and kept at her side.
“I’m concerned about you” he said through his teeth. If he was frustrated, that made two of them.
“Oh, come off it” she laughed harshly “I can buy that you’re reformed, I can. You regret the Mark and you see the obvious fallacies in the blood supremacy argument. Totally plausible. But, there is no way in Hades that you give one iota about my personal well being.”
“Why is that so ridiculous?” He countered. He saw a third year couple snogging by the fountain, “Sweet Salazar, remove your tongues! Fifteen points from Slytherin for conduct. How embarrassing.”
“Mm, because you’re you and I’m me? We’re assigned suite-mates, you’ve noticed my personal habits- fine- but, let’s not invade each other’s privacy.”
“You don’t eat. You lie to Potter and Weasley. You don’t socialize with anyone. You don’t even speak outside your school engagements. You read and study and drink tea and sleep. Something is wrong.”
“I fought in a war” she hissed, stopping her walk and staring up at him with indignant anger “I was tortured in your house. I obliviated my parents beyond repair. I was assaulted by Death Eaters in the Forest. I killed people. Of course something is wrong, you smug bastard. I’m coping the best I can. It’s none of your fucking business. Neither is it Harry’s or Ron’s or McGonagall’s or Molly’s or anyone else’s for that matter! Piss off, Malfoy.”
Hermione walked away and kept a hundred yards away from him for the rest of the trip. She didn’t speak to him when she went back to their suite. He didn’t see her at all on Sunday. On the prefect meeting on Monday morning, she carried on professionally but wouldn’t meet his eye, instead looking between them.
She didn’t speak a single word to him all week.
On the following Sunday evening, Malfoy knocked on her door. No answer. He knocked again. Silence.
“It’s prefect business” he called out from the other side.
“Fine, come in” she said. She was sitting on her bed in black leggings and her King’s College hoodie that swallowed her up. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, I just wanted you to answer the door” he shrugged, sitting on the corner of her bed. He held out a fancy tin of Masala Chai. “It’s a peace offering.”
“You’re a lying prat” Hermione glared, putting down her book.
“Only when it suits me. Look, I want to apologize to you. I was pushing you and I am legitimately worried for you but not out of some savior Gryffindor complex or pity or what-“
“Then, why?” She asked, sitting up.
“Because if the most clever, logical witch I know isn’t okay, then what fucking chance do I stand?” He scoffed, picking at a thread in his trousers. “I’m not here to compare traumas but my parents are dead, my ancestral home is in government seizure, I was tortured by my Aunt and the Dark- Voldemort, my friends are either dead, in prison or consider me blood traitor filth now. I’m alone too, Granger. I’m sorry I was a complete shit to you for years, I’m sorry if I crossed a line, I’m- I’m just sorry.”
“Okay” Hermione simply said after a few moments.
“Okay?” He asked. She took the chai tin from him.
“Okay, apology accepted” she said, meeting his eyes.
//////
From that moment on, they had a sort of probationary friendship. They decorated the Great Hall for the dance and studied in their common room together. They talked about the books they were reading, Malfoy showed her more wizard fiction and she shared her muggle books.
He was different, more open, less smarmy. He wasn’t a saint of course, still undoing eighteen years of privilege and prejudice with a family legacy of hate. She wondered if his friends being gone had forced the change or if it had been in the works for a long while. She was surprised to find herself enjoying his company.
It was a strange relief to have an intellectual equal to talk to. Not that she was a snob but, it was disheartening to be excited about something academic only to have her friends’ eyes glaze over or poke fun at her. She was still wary of him but the gap seemed to be closing.
//////
The Great Hall looked amazing on the thirty-first, charmed paper bats and black candles floated above their heads, charmed fog rolled along the floor and illusions of shadowy trees swayed along the walls. Tables of sweets lined one wall, along with a bubbling sour apple punch in a crystal cauldron.
Malfoy, dressed as a prince in a black brocade vest with a scabbard at his hip and a -likely authentic- crown on his platinum hair. Hermione wore a black turtleneck, tweed shift dress, tights and her black leather boots, with whiskers charmed on each cheek and twitching cat ears on her head, walked their rounds. It mostly consisted of stopping people from pouring alcohol in the punch and separating couples snogging in the hallway.
“What is your plan after graduation?” Malfoy asked, his hands behind his back. He’d found out accidentally a few days prior, when he grabbed her arm to pull her away from a pumpkin juice spill, she had an issue with physical contact. She admitted that she was working on it but, the assault had left her repelled by touch, especially from men. He understood and was sure to be careful.
“I don’t know” she let out a nervous laugh “The idea of working for the Ministry disgusts me now, all those bullshit fundraisers and press conferences over the summer.. I feel like I would just be a political prop.”
“What would you want to do? Maybe, a research position?” He suggested.
“Maybe” she nodded, she held her breath. She hadn’t told anyone this. “I actually.. I was looking into a Archival Assistant position at the Athena Library. It’s a long shot, they are very choosy-“
“You would be brilliant at that, really. They would be so lucky to get you.”
“What about you?” She asked, hiding her flattered smile.
“I’m not sure anyone would hire me” he smirked “But, I’ve always wanted to be a Cursebreaker.”
“You are very good at puzzles” she said “Plus, the goblins don’t care about human wars.”
“Will you live with Harry at Grimmauld, then?” He asked casually.
“Mm, he wants me to but-.. Ron lives there as well.”
“He hasn’t let up?” Malfoy asked, ignoring the tightness in his chest.
“No” she shook her head “He says he has but he’s.. just waiting for me. It’s awful. I can just hope he’ll meet a witch and forget about me.”
“One could only hope” Malfoy smirked, Hermione frowned at her feet as they moved through the corridor.
-
November swept through and December arrived before Hermione realized. Christmas had always been her favorite holiday, her mother always had decorated the house to the brim. Now, she didn’t even want a wreath on her door, the smell made her ill. Ron and Harry were insisting she come to Grimmauld or the Burrow for Hols but she hadn’t responded yet.
“Are you staying? For break?” She asked as Malfoy handed her a cup of chai.
“Yes” he nodded “I haven’t bought another property yet and I can’t leave the country for another year. I suppose I could rent a hotel room but that sounds even more depressing than staying here. Aren’t you going to a Very Weasley Christmas at the Hole?”
“Burrow. I might go to Christmas dinner to avoid a letter from Molly but it churns my stomach. I don’t.. feel like celebrating this year.”
“Well, we could.. I would be here. It wouldn’t be.. totally lonely then” Malfoy hesitated.
“You’re right” Hermione said, the corner of her mouth turning up, “I’ll just stay here.”
Malfoy’s stomach lurched.
-
Hermione and Draco saw the students off to the carriages and station and then walked back to the castle. They split a sandwich on the shores of the Black Lake and read their respective books in silence, under a strong warming charm.
When they walked in, a massive bough of magical mistletoe hung on the arch before their suite. Hermione stopped and looked at it critically.
“I can get it down-” Draco offered quickly, raising his wand.
“I want- I want to try something” She said quietly “But you cannot touch me. You just have to.. be still, alright?”
“Alright” He nodded seriously. He stood frozen as Hermione faced him. She slid her hands to his face, resting her palms along either side of his jaw.
“Can you bend down slightly? You’re rather tall” she remarked, and he leaned over. She pressed his lips to his, softly, then pulled back. “Is that okay?”
“Yes, quite” he said, seriously, watching her.
“One more, maybe” she suggested.
“That would be nice” he whispered. She kissed him again, and he returned it. She tilted her head and parted her lips slightly. He gently held her bottom lip between his. She lightly touched her tongue to his lip, then pulled back.
“Thank you” she said softly, releasing him, “For letting me be.. for being patient with me.”
“Of course” he nodded, opening the portrait door for her.
-
“You should just come along” Hermione frowned, shifting her weight on the other foot nervously. She had her gifts piled in her arms. She didn’t want to say it out loud but Draco Malfoy, in the irony of all ironies, had become a sort of anchor for her. He was a Safe Person. He didn’t push her, he was careful of her triggers without tip-toeing around her constantly or being patronizing. He was supportive, kind, patient.
Something of a miracle really.
“We both know that would be a disaster” Draco drawled “The Weasel and I would almost certainly end up in fisticuffs, either him or the littlest She-Weasel. I’ll join next year.”
“Awfully presumptuous of you to think ahead twelve months like that” Hermione smirked, leaning slightly over him as he sprawled out on the couch with her copy of Anna Karenina in his hand. It was her signal that she wanted a quick kiss. He held still and she gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. He smiled at the taste of her she’d eaten a slice of spice cake for breakfast and it delighted him. Progress.
“Perhaps” he grinned.
“I’ll be back by nine” she assured him.
“I’ll see you upon your return” he nodded “Go on.”
-
Hermione entered the common room quietly and Draco illuminated the room with a flick of his wand but, when he saw the sight of her he jumped up.
“Good- What the hell, Granger? Why are you- whose blood is that?” He hissed, inspecting her face and jumper.
“It’s Ron’s. It was my fault, well, sort of. He surprised me at the mistletoe and I.. I grossly overreacted.”
“To him assaulting you?” He screeched. She’d never heard his voice raise to that octave “I’m going to that hovel right now and-“
Hermione held his arm and he stilled.
“No, I’m alright. He already got an earful from Molly and Harry and Ginny. He apologized and I already healed his nose, it would annoy me to do it twice.”
“Fine” Draco agreed “I’ll save it for the next time I see him.”
“He’s a Auror now, you’ll go straight to Azkaban. I’ve got better things to do than haul myself to visitation to that hellhole every weekend. I’m fine, just calm down.”
“Fine” Malfoy spat. He muttered on the couch but she sat next to him and offered her hand. He froze at that, but took it.
“Thank you” she smiled softly and he melted, “Also, I told them we’re dating.”
“Oh” he replied, then grinned wide.
-
Six months later
-
Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger sat in their Head compartment after helping the young years settle in their seats. She slid her hand into his and he gave her a kiss.
“So, this is purely symbolic, really-“ Draco said quietly, sliding a small rectangular box into her hand. When she opened it, a slender skeleton key. “Obviously, the property is heavily warded and when we get there, your component of the blood ward will be complete.”
“You bought a flat?” She asked, smiling up at him.
“I’d like it to be ours” he said stiffly. He wasn’t one to outwardly display emotions often, especially tender ones, though he was getting better at it.
“What? Really?” She smiled, studying the key and the picture underneath it, of the pre-war townhome.
“Yes. I think it would better than you being at Grimmauld or by yourself. I think it would be better than me being by myself too. There’s four bedrooms, you’d have your own bed and a study. It would be safe too, I won’t ever invite people without your say so, the wards are strong.”
Hermione was silent and regret was an acid trickled down his throat. She didn’t like it. It was too much. He knew it was an enormous risk but she’d just said the previous month that she’d miss living with him and she still hadn’t told a Harry a definitive answer.
They hadn’t slept together yet but he didn’t care. He wanted to see her every day, wanted to share a life with her. She had made enormous strides in last few months, being honest with Weasley and Potter, eating semi-regularly, seeing a therapist. It was all her and he was happy to just be beside her. He’d specifically bought a flat closest to her new job at the Archives.
“I-“ she took a steadying breath “I love you.”
He smiled wide, victorious.
“I love you too” he replied, kissing her forehead.