Chapter Text
There was a pause, his eyebrows furrowed, and he reached slowly towards her, water dripping from his hand until his fingers brushed against the back of her left hand where it was resting on the edge of the tub. His fingers traced slowly over her knuckles.
“Is this real?” His voice was almost a whisper.
Hermione hesitantly placed her right hand on his.
“It's real .”
All she could see was grey, flecks of white a ppearing in the color of Draco's eyes . She could have sworn that there were actual sparks from where his skin touched hers. What was this feeling? His eyes were like a light, drawing her closer to him like moths to a flame .
With a startled gasp, Hermione jerked up in her seat on the Hogwarts Express. A dream. It was just a dream. Taking a deep breath, she quickly checked her surroundings to make sure she was still in the same place.
She was. Draco was still next to her, flipping through the pages of a book. At the sound of her gasp, he looked up, giving her a questioning look. With a sheepish smile, Hermione nodded and looked back at the window, trying to take another deep breath and ignore her quickly racing thoughts. She needed to keep her focus. They were going back. All of them.
If you had told 11 year old Hermione that she would be sharing a compartment with Draco Malfoy willingly, she would have laughed and declared you insane. Current 19 year old her though…
Less than a year after the war ended, Hogwarts had finished repairing itself. As a result, McGonagall had sent out letters to all the students to return. And that included herself and her year. They would essentially be repeating their 7th year but now they got their own dorms and private bath instead of sharing with three others at minimum. Hogwarts provides as Dumbledore had always said. Even though they would all be back at the castle, it would be more like they were living in their own flats.
Normally, it would have been either Harry or Ron who would have been sharing a compartment with her for the train ride, but both of the boys were already seated with the other prefects. Harry had been given Head Boy for the other Gryffindors, sharing the title with a 7th year so that things were still fair. It had been a surprise when Ron had been given the shiny and new prefect badge, Hermione would have guessed Neville from their year, but she didn’t make those choices. There had been a time when being a prefect or Head Girl was all Hermione wanted, but things had…changed.
Each day was harder, but she kept doing it. She couldn't remember the last time that she wasn't in survival mode. Even in her first year at eleven years old, Hermione was already facing danger once she chose to help Harry. Each year had a new problem and it only got worse each time. From the Sorcerer's Stone, a basilisk, the whole mess that was the TriWizard Tournament and then the mess at the Department of Mysteries…all that mattered was staying alive during the final battle. Hermione told herself that she could rest once the war had ended, but even now, she still couldn't.
The rest of her friends had seemed to move on. They were able to finally take a deep breath and just let go. She envied them for that. Both her and Harry had stayed with the Weasleys in the beginning, especially as they all mourned Fred, but after only four months, Hermione had moved into her own flat. The tensions between her and the others were too high. They couldn't, or wouldn’t , understand why she would still wake up screaming, twisting and turning in the sheets and her body covered in sweat while clutching at her left wrist where the scar still remained from Bellatrix's cursed knife.
Ron had been the most difficult to deal with. While the rest of them couldn't even eat more than a few bites the first week or so, he was immediately wolfing down once the first plate had appeared. Hermione could have dealt with that though, if it hadn't been for the rest of their issues. He was still convinced that now that the war was over, she was going to marry him right away and settle down and start a family. When she told him that she didn't even want kids until a few years well into her career, Ron had just laughed. Apparently, his wife wouldn't work at all and would just stay home and take care of him and the kids.
Hermione had said a big hell no to that.
She liked kids and definitely did want them someday, but having a career was important to her as well. She had started volunteering at St.Mungo’s, wanting and needing to do something to chase away her intrusive thoughts, especially regarding her parents. Hermione wanted to make actual changes in the Wizarding and Muggle world, helping every person and creature have a better life. And she wouldn't be able to do that if she was just being a housewife popping out a dozen kids at once.
Yes, Ron had been one of her best friends. He, along with Harry, were the brothers she always wished she had. True, Hermione thought she might have feelings for Ron in fourth year but that had quickly gone up in dust once the Yule Ball had happened. Lavender Brown was the one to steal his heart that year and once again, Hermione was left behind.
And that kiss…
It still made her cringe that she had kissed him during the final battle while in the Chamber of Secrets. Emotions had been running high, but that kiss answered the question of what her feelings were the second it happened. Still, she tried for a relationship with him. She really did. But she just couldn’t. Things were getting worse, so she tried to turn him down gently, but Ron persisted, saying she just needed to see it clearly and they were meant to be together. Hermione had left the next morning and rented out her current flat before she hexed him into the next life.
That hadn’t stopped him though. He constantly came over and sent letters, ignoring her pleas for space. Hermione hadn’t thought things could get any worse but then it had.
Ron had hit her.
He had been drinking, and came into the clinic absolutely drunk. Trying to not cause a scene, Hermione had given in and led Ron to an empty room where he had tried to force a kiss on her. When she had pushed him away, Ron had grabbed her around her throat, squeezing tightly, before throwing her across the room. Hermione still had a scar from the glass vase she had landed on. When she went to defend herself, he had slapped her hard against the cheek causing her to freeze in shock.
“You’re mine, Hermione. You know that as well as I do. Stop fighting already.” His face was red, even more than his hair and she found herself frozen as he entered her space.
“Don’t…don’t do this.”
“Or what? You’ll tell?” His grin was mocking, all traces of the boy she once knew gone. “No one will believe you, you know. I’m a War Hero and more than that, I’m a Pureblood. You’re nothing but a stuck up little whore, ready to spread her legs for anyone other than someone who actually loves her.”
“You don’t love me, Ron.” Hermione wasn’t sure who this person was in front of her, but it sure as hell wasn’t the Ron she knew. This person was cold and cruel, eager to hurt her.
His eyes were hard. “I’ve already told you. You are mine . You might have helped us in the war, but you’re still not a pureblood. No one else will love you. You’re not worth that. You know that, right?”
A healer had knocked on the door and Ron immediately stepped back. Hermione had been too shocked to even say anything, even as Ron grinned and charmed the other nurse.
She never told anyone.
Harry and Ginny still didn't understand exactly what she was going through, but they were trying to be supportive, which she appreciated. They were there for her when they could be. When she had gone to the Wizengamont to testify on behalf of Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy, both Harry and Ginny had not complained or made a fuss. Ron, on the other hand, had thrown a fit. Complete with throwing things and punching a hole in one of the walls as he had loomed above her, face red and eyes dark. In his eyes, Hermione was betraying them by defending ‘Death Eater Scum’, as he called them, while she should be there supporting them while they grieved over Fred's death. It hadn't occurred to him that maybe she needed support as well.
He hid his darker tendencies well though. No one seemed to notice the change in him, save for her. Of course, Ron was careful. He hit where the bruises wouldn’t show, using his words more than his hands.
Though that first day had shown he wasn’t afraid to use his hands. No matter how much she tried to stay away from him, Ron had always found her. She was safe while she was at her flat, but he always managed to find a way to get to her everywhere else.
She was afraid of him. Hermione knew that. She also knew that she refused to show it to anyone else. What would the world think of their “Golden Girl” if they saw what was going on? That she let these things happen to her and had no way of stopping it. Ron was right in that no one would believe her. They might have fought a war over blood status but that didn’t mean that everything had changed overnight. Prejudices were still held and she knew where she stood.
So Hermione was glad that she still had Harry and Ginny. It would hurt if she lost everyone she cared about. Hermione had tried to go to her parents once it was safe and repair their memories, but the mind healers there had told her it was too dangerous. She could do worse damage if she tried to give those memories back. Not being able to fix that was one of the main reasons she started at St.Mungo’s as a trainee Healer. No one should have to go through losing someone like that. It was like losing them all over again.
If she hadn't started training though, Hermione would never have gone to Azkaban that fateful day and seen her school bully, Draco Malfoy, in one of the cells. Despite both hers and Harry's testimonies, he had still been given a two year sentence in Azkaban. The conditions she had found Draco in were inhumane. It had barely been six months and already she couldn't believe that the person in front of her had been him. Dementors were not supposed to be there any longer but there had been no other reason for the icy chill that filled the area. Draco had been unresponsive, his grey eyes flat and when the guard there had finally turned him over to her, Draco had flinched when the portly older man had handed over one of the runes that sent electric shocks through the inmates body if the holder activated it.
After going through endless red tape, Hermione had finally convinced Kingsley Shacklebolt to release Draco into her care, changing his sentence into a sort of house arrest. It had taken her two months to do so, but she had been relentless. No one deserved what Draco had been put through. Endless scars that had been clearly left to heal by themselves still covered his body and though he had now been out for two months, Hermione was still trying to help convince him that everything was real and he wouldn't be going back to that awful place. It had taken a bit of time, but Hermione liked to think that they had become sort of friends. A lot of nights were spent in quiet comadre reading or talking about different books they had both read. Draco was surprisingly fun to talk to, easily keeping up with her quick mind and they both could go on long tangents on a variety of subjects. Draco never seemed annoyed with her way of talking so excitedly about subjects that most people would find boring. In fact, he actively participated and even challenged her ideas and thoughts. It was invigorating. That didn't mean that everything was peachy. There was a lot of trauma that Draco needed to deal with and Hermione wasn't the one that could do that. She could be there for him and be a listening ear, but she wasn't a fully trained Mind Healer. He needed a professional.
And now, ten months since he had first been sent to Azkaban, they all were returning to Hogwarts. Draco sat next to her on the train, still not speaking. He had been more quiet ever since they had first gotten their letters and Hermione figured he was anxious about going back to the castle. She knew she was. According to the deal she had made with the Ministry, Draco would be staying with her for most of the time with the exception of some classes and the Great Hall if he wanted to sit with the other Slytherin’s. She wasn’t sure how the room situation would go but Hermione figured that they would find that out once they arrived.
If they could finish the year without some epic battle or someone dying, that would be really great. Eight year was going to be her year. She had spent each year at Hogwarts and the last year fighting at least one battle or the other. Enough was enough. This year was going to be her own. A whole year where she could focus on just her studies and the most stressful thing for her to worry about would be passing her exams at the end of term.
Hermione Granger was finally going to have a normal school year.
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Hermione took a dee p breath before she entered the Great Hall. The last time she had been in this room, they had used it as a place to put their wounded and dead during the final battle, the bodies seemingly never ending. Though it had been cleaned and you never would be able to tell if you didn't already know, all she could see was blood on the stone floor. It made her want to vomit.
Her morbid thoughts were interrupted by a wave of a hand and the loud voice of Ginny Weasley calling her name. Hermoine hadn't realized just how much she had missed her redheaded friend until she was there in person and Hermione went over towards that table, doing her best to smile even if she was out of practice, pulling Draco with her.
The happy smiles of Ginny, Ron and Harry turned to grimaces (from Ron) and confused looks from the other two as Hermione came closer and they saw who she was with.
“What's he doing here?” Ron sneered, crossing his arms and gave a pointed look at Draco who was standing next to her. “Didn't know they let Death Eaters back here.”
Hermione's own anger flared but Draco didn't respond, even as she immediately took a step closer towards him, angling her body so Draco was more behind her.
“What? Not gonna say anything?” He directed the question to Draco, who was still silent. “Or are you just going to run back to Mummy and Daddy? Oh wait, you can't do that anymore. They're in Azkaban. Waste of resources if you ask me. Should just give them the kiss and save the rest of us a lot of trouble.”
Draco tensed next to her but made no further move. Instead, it was Hermione who was instantly in his face, staring him down as she momentarily forgot her fear in lieu of protecting her friend,
“Don't talk to him like that.” She seethed, pointing her finger into his chest. “How dare you? You've seemed to have forgotten Ronald Weasley that we just fought and finished a bloody war!”
Shocked looks surrounded them and not just from Ron, Ginny and Harry. The entire hall had gone quiet enough that you could hear a pin drop.
“What is the meaning of this?” The stern voice of Headmistress McGonagall came up to them then, her eyes narrowed in disappointment.
Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione cut him off before he could. She had had enough experience to know that Ron was extremely biased and if he spoke up, he would most likely put all the blame on Draco himself. Hermione wasn't having that.
“Ron was rude to both Draco and his parents, Headmistress.” She answered. “I admit that I lost my temper. I'm sorry.” She said that last part to Ron who just huffed. The look in his eyes promised hell.
“Do try to keep your impulses under control, Miss Granger. Ten points from Gryffindor .” McGonagall looked at Ron. “I would suggest Mr.Weasley, that you refrain from making comments on subjects you do not understand. Mr. Malfoy has as much right to be here as you do and I will not tolerate rudeness from any of my students. Ten points from Gryffindor. Now, if you would excuse me, it's time for the Welcoming Feast. Miss Granger, you and Mr. Malfoy need to come to my office once the feast is over. I have a few things to discuss with you.” She turned away from them and headed back towards the table where all the other teachers sat.
With a glare, Ron turned away from them and Ginny and Harry both just gave sheepish looks before following him. Hermione huffed but took a seat at the table, Draco sitting next to her. There were quite a few looks when he did so from everyone at their table and even the other Houses. Draco ignored them.
“You didn't need to defend me, Granger.” Draco said in a low voice. There weren't too many people around them, the other Gryffindors choosing to sit away from them. “It's not like I haven't heard worse.”
“You shouldn't have to be treated like that. It's wrong. And I will never let someone hurt any of my friends, which includes you. So get used to it.”
For a moment, Hermione thought he would argue back but after only a few seconds, he huffed and took a sip of his pumpkin juice.
There was a loud clanking sound from the teachers table as McGonagall stood up, ready to welcome everyone. She cleared her throat. “Welcome new and returning students. I know how hard it might be to be back in this castle after the past few years, and I sincerely thank each and every one of you for showing up. Voldermort may have tried to break our spirit, but we are still here. It's time to focus on healing, honoring those we have lost and moving forward into an era of love…and peace. Our new 8th year students will be together in one dorm instead of separate ones. We encourage all of you, new and old, to intermingle with the other houses.” She raised her goblet. “Now, all of that said, enjoy the feast!”
Hermione glanced around the rest of the Gryffindors at the table, purposely sitting away from her and Draco. Ah yes, intermingling with the other houses should be simple.
Not.