3A/N: Finally, I finished my first Dramione oneshot! I know it's a little short, and the ending is sort of sucky, but anyways...enjoy! Also, I can be persuaded to write a sequel ;). Check out my other Dramione story: s/10038420/1/Life-With-Enemies
"Professor McGonagall?" Draco Malfoy hesitated uncertainly. He ran a hand through his blond locks. It was the first day of his final year. For some reason, even though he was still upset about leaving Hogwarts, he was glad that the end of his schooling was near. He couldn't stand another three or four (or six) years of bullying from the Slytherin students.
"Yes dear?" The elderly, almost regal, headmistress peeked at him over her spectacles, giving an encouraging smile.
"I just wanted to confirm my duties as Head Boy." Draco had received the congratulatory notification by owl during the summer. Both his parents and three year old little sister, Andromeda, had encouraged him to take the opportunity. "Besides," his mother, Narcissa, had said. "It's the perfect chance for you to get a girlfriend." A girlfriend. Surely his mother hadn't been referring to the Head Girl? He had nodded agreeably back then, but now he wasn't so sure. Draco wasn't that picky when it came to girls, unless it was…
"Professor?" Draco asked again. McGonagall, who had been currently rustling through a pile of neatly stacked papers trying to find the Head Boy form, looked up again, triumphantly holding a glittering red and gold packet.
"Just need you to fill this out, Draco." McGonagall handed the packet over to him. Draco's eyes bulged slightly. The packet had to be at least fifty sheets thick! "Don't worry," McGonagall smiled reassuringly, eyeing his concerned face. "It's just so every staff member will own a copy. All you need to do is fill out the top form, and the rest will fill out by itself magically." She watched carefully as he settled into one of the desks in her empty classroom and started to fill in the form with a red Gryffindor pen he had pulled out of his pocket.
"What was your other question, Draco?" Draco paused for a long moment. What was his question? he thought dumbly. Oh yeah. Head Girl.
"Oh, you know. Just wanted to know who the Head Girl was." Draco chose his words with care, adding just the right amount of hesitation and couldn't-care-less. After all, he didn't want to make it seem like he cared all that much about some stupid Head Girl.
There was another rustling of papers. "Severus brought in a form a couple of weeks ago-" McGonagall mumbled, referring to the old Potions teacher. He had recently replaced the old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. "Where in Merlin's name-" Draco watched in amusement as the preoccupied headmistress fumble through the pile of papers.
"Aha." McGonagall pulled out a Slytherin green form. The paper hissed at her, and she held it away cautiously. "It says here that your Head Girl will be…Hermione Granger." Like he had said before, he wasn't picky about girls, unless it was Hermione Granger. Draco Malfoy let out a loud hiss, not unlike the one the form had made. Leave it to Granger to turn the form in early.
Professor McGonagall arched an eyebrow and delicately placed the form back. "I take it you know her?"
Yes, he knew Hermione Granger. Everyone knew Hermione Granger. She was practically the princess of Slytherin. Everyone either feared her, admired her, or was friends with her. No one hated her with such a deep passion as Draco did.
Tall for a girl of 17 and coming from a wealthy pureblood family, she was also the figure that had relentlessly tortured him with insults over the past six years about his muggle heritage. Scratch that- it was her bloody friends, Potter and Weasley who teased him consistently. Granger's (encouraging?) smiles only made Draco feel like she was egging them on.
She was smart, too. She had gotten nine O.W.L.s on her exams fifth year, and was number one in all her classes. Draco had gotten ten O.W.L.s (somehow, he had gotten through Potions- a huge miracle since the old Potions teacher, Severus Snape, hated him. No surprise there, he was also the Head of Slytherin.), but was second, only to her, in all his classes. And now, they were going to have a shared common room.
It might not be too late to resign from my Head Boy position. Draco held on to that last shred of hope. The enchanted form, sensing his pen's withdrawal from it, figured he was done filling it out. Draco watched helplessly as the information sank into the other sheets of paper. When it was done, the entire stack vanished. Too late. Draco groaned uselessly. It was going to be another year of torture.
Hermione Granger half listened, half zoned out, to Harry and Ron's conversations as they headed towards the dungeons to the Slytherin dorms. As usual, they were talking about ways to bully Draco Malfoy. She almost pitied him. After all, what had the poor boy done to receive all this negative attention? Except for the fact that he was muggle-born and a Gryffindor, she didn't understand why Harry and Ron always zoned in on him. Sure, they teased other muggle-borns occasionally, but Malfoy was their main target.
"Uh, guys?" Hermione interrupted their conversation, though not regretfully. The two pureblooded prefects turned to look at her. They had reached the entrance to the dorms. "I should really get the Head dorms. Have fun unpacking!" Ron groaned.
"I still wish there was a house elf to unpack for me." Ron, coming from a big, wealthy family, still wasn't used to doing chores.
"You'll be fine, Ron." Harry spoke the password to the portrait and pushed Ron in. he gave an impish grin to Hermione, who returned it. "Congratulations on getting the position of Head Girl. We always knew it would be you, 'Mione." He stepped in after Ron, who was complaining loudly about his hurt ankle from falling into the Slytherin common room. Hermione rolled her eyes, both at Ron for being overdramatic, and at Harry, for use of her ridiculous nickname.
Hermione was excited at becoming Head Girl, but like Harry had said, there hadn't been any real doubts. She was smart (but also modest). She was a strict rule-keeper. Really, she was the perfect candidate for Head Girl.
Hermione stopped walking along the silent corridor and checked for the umpteenth time that the Head dorms were still near the Astronomy Tower. They were. Hermione finally took notice of the emptiness of the corridor. She tensed. What were the students up to? Oh yeah. They're all unpacking. She shook her head. No wonder Harry always says I'm paranoid. She relaxed again, and started heading towards the Astronomy Tower.
Hermione stepped inside the lavishly decorated Head common room. She smiled. Someone had already done her the favor of carrying her luggage into the room. She scanned it. There was a large fireplace, one couch and two overstuffed armchairs; one red, one green. There was even a small bookshelf in the corner, filled with thick volumes. A mahogany staircase stood in the middle of the room, leading up to the two Heads' dorms. It was practically perfect, except for one thing.
"Malfoy?" Hermione's eyes narrowed at the robed figure coming out of the left bedroom. She wasn't angry (well, except for the fact that he had beat her there), just a little shocked.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked coldly, crossing her arms.
"Unpacking. Shouldn't you be too?" Malfoy drawled, leaning against the door frame. "Or is 'Mione too good for that?" He smirked, awaiting her reaction.
Hermione growled. Any earlier pity she had for him vanished out the stained glass window. "Do not call me that. And for your information, I'm not too good to unpack by myself. But I am better than a mudblood." She spat. Hermione wanted to take those words back as soon as they escaped her mouth. Never before had she said that horrid M-word. She watched carefully as Malfoy slithered back into his room, slamming the door. Robotically, she grabbed her luggage and ascended the stairs, stepping into the bedroom on the right.
Hermione closed the door, sinking into the king-sized bed. The room was designed with her house colors, silver and forest green. It was beautifully decorated; however at the moment, the colors seemed to swirl together, making Hermione dizzy. She closed her eyes. What had she done? She had vowed to herself that she wouldn't take part whenever Harry and Ron teased Malfoy, even giving him slight sympathetic smiles. And now… Hermione sighed, not daring (or wanting) to face him again.
Draco glared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Granger had actually looked surprised to see him standing in the Head dorms. And really, why not? He wasn't the type of guy teachers or students usually took note of (except when he had earned detention), though his looks were far better than the average wizard. But he was smart, and deserved to be Head Boy. However, he knew it was the fact that he was a mudblood. She had even said it herself. Okay, had implied it. He knew she had been expecting a pureblood, possibly from Ravenclaw or even Hufflepuff. But she had called him a mudblood, and that was that. This was, he realized, startled, the first time she had called him that. His handsome facial features grew hard.
Draco stepped out of his bathroom and surveyed his surroundings. The comforter on the king-sized bed was red, threaded with gold. In fact, the entire room was in his favorite/House colors. The wallpaper was striped with red and gold, as well as the matching rug. The oak drawers had the symbol of the mighty Godric Gryffindor, as well as the armchair.
The room was simply beautiful, and for the first time, Draco felt at home in Hogwarts. He stepped out of his bedroom feeling much better, and closed the door behind him, heading downstairs to sort out his book bag.
Hermione was feeling guilty. Harry and Ron had started off like this. Trading not-so-harmless insults with Malfoy had gradually turned to punching him whenever they had the chance. Which, Hermione noted, wasn't often. However, the bruises were noticeable on his pale skin. She could tell they wanted to hurt him much worse than a few punches, but didn't because of the hawk-eyed professors and perhaps because of Malfoy himself.
Hermione remembered, once, in fifth year, when Ron was taunting him yet again. "Goody two shoes," Ron had said, not noticing Hermione, who was just exiting Hagrid's hut after a long tutorial on hippogriffs. Malfoy had replied with a punch to Ron's nose and had twisted his arm behind his back.
Normally, Hermione would've rushed up to Ron, with a glare at Malfoy, but that was the year she had really been aware. Aware of her surroundings, aware of Harry and Ron's unforgiveable behavior, aware of Malfoy's innocence. He had, after all, done nothing wrong. So she let Malfoy beat Ron senseless.
So, naturally, Hermione felt guilty. She thought about apologizing, but if Harry or Ron found out that she'd apologized to a lowly…muggle-born, they would never forgive her. But it would be the right thing to do, a tiny voice inside her head said. Damn her conscience.
Hermione carefully stepped out of her room and descended the stairs. She was relieved to see that Malfoy hadn't left (Though where would he go? It was eight o'clock at night; most of the day had been spent on the familiar, yet last, train ride to Hogwarts.). Instead he was positioned on the couch, mumbling to himself as he sorted through his textbooks. He is rather cute when he mumbles, Hermione thought, then slapping herself mentally.
"Malfoy," she began nervously. What if they find out? She started to hyperventilate, twirling a strand of curly brown hair around her index finger. He looked up, carefully masking his emotions, though annoyance was clearly present in his eyes. Harry and Ron won't find out. Hermione reassured herself.
"Oh. It's you." Malfoy spoke finally.
Not being able to stop herself, Hermione shot back, "Well, who else would it be?" She hesitated again. Stop it. You're here to apologize, not start a war. She took a deep breath. "About what I said earlier-"
"Save it, Granger." Malfoy stood up, and slung his book bag over his shoulder with ease. He began heading towards the stairs.
"Wait, Malfoy. I just wanted to apolo-" Hermione was rudely cut off again. Malfoy, who was already at the top of the stairs, looked down incredulously at her. For a brief moment, she thought he might forgive her.
"Tell it to someone who cares, Granger. I'm fed up with you and your bloody friends. And if you think I'm going to forgive you, well…" Malfoy gave a bitter laugh. "Forgetting doesn't come easy." He spat angrily, then slammed his bedroom door for the second time that day.
Hermione slumped into the space previously occupied by Malfoy. She just had to let him know that she wasn't part of the conspiracy against him, that she didn't agree with Harry and Ron, that she sympathized with him. What am I thinking? Hermione thought tiredly. She closed her eyes and let sleep take her.
Hermione woke up in her bedroom. The already familiar décor startled her. How had she gotten there? Hadn't she fallen asleep on the couch? Unless…it had been Malfoy. Vaguely, she remembered being half-conscious as he lifted her up the stairs. Surprisingly, she didn't feel as bothered as she would have a couple of months ago that a muggle-born had touched her. She cracked a smile. If only her strict parents could see her now. They would've probably disowned her at the mere mention of a conversing with a mud-muggle born. Hermione mentally slapped herself for almost thinking that word.
Hermione rolled over onto her side, catching a glimpse of the nightstand clock. 8:40 already? Breakfast had ended ten minutes ago and class would begin in twenty minutes!
Hermione cursed loudly, wishing she still had the time-turner Snape had given to her. She ran over to her closet, only to remember that she had never unpacked the night before. Cursing again, she rummaged through her trunk and pulled out her school uniform. Now where were her robes? Remembering she had taken them out, she quickly got dressed. Thank Merlin she had packed her book bag on the Hogwarts Express. She grabbed it and checked the clock again. 8:50. Looks like I might make it.
Hermione ran down the stairs and headed for the portrait hole, and almost collided with Malfoy, who was just climbing in. He raised an eyebrow at her unruly curly hair, and her rumpled uniform.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked breathlessly. He pushed past her.
"Class starts in ten minutes. I came back to retrieve my bag. I assume you know that, Head Girl." Taking his forgotten bag, he started to climb back out the hole, and then turned around coolly. "Here." He said, tossing a banana over to Hermione, who almost dropped her bag in surprise. He opened the portrait again, when Hermione spoke up.
"Thanks. And also for, you know…carrying me to bed." Her voice came out in almost a whisper. Malfoy turned around again. "Don't mention it." He added, "Look, class starts in five minutes. You coming or not?"
Hermione felt her blood boil. Here she was, trying to be civil, and there he was… "Why didn't you wake me up?" she demanded crossly.
"I didn't know it came with the job of Head Boy, Granger." He said calmly.
She sighed. He was right. She couldn't be dependent on him to wake her up. "Look, Malfoy. I know we got off on the wrong foot, and I really am very sorry about calling you a mudblood and I know I shouldn't have sided with Harry and Ron in the beginning, and I'm s-sorry."
Hermione gasped as warm lips enclosed on hers. She closed her eyes blissfully. In that long moment, she forgot about class and that it was starting, in, like, two minutes. She moaned in protest as the lips were removed. She stared at Malfoy wide-eyed.
"That shut you up. Now, let's go. Wouldn't want to ruin your perfect attendance." Malfoy stepped out of the portrait hole, leaving Hermione to stumble after him as they ran to Advanced Potions.
The day had almost ended. Draco was in the empty DADA classroom, cleaning and mopping the shelves and floors. He had received detention from Professor Snape for accidentally calling out an answer.
Draco replayed the day's events in his mind. Had Granger actually enjoyed the kiss he had given her? She, at least, didn't seem to mind that it was from a mudblood. He shuddered. He, too, had liked it. Sort of. He was almost about to forgive her, but he wasn't the problem.
It was all Harry and Ron. Okay, he had to admit Potter wasn't so bad; it was that stubborn, blithering, pureblooded idiot, Weasley, who was the ringleader. If he remembered correctly, Weasley had started it.
"Blond hair and a tattered robe. You must be that mudblood, Malfoy." Beside Draco had been Potter, waiting to be sorted. Potter had given a nervous chuckle, which Weasley had taken to be a hint to be his best mate. And, Hermione- um, Granger. Granger was a lonely, pretty, daughter of a well-known wizarding family, who had happened to be in the same house as the two boys. So they had picked her right up. Draco clenched his teeth. Those bloody arses.
"Hey, Mal-Draco." Hermione poked her head in the Dark Arts classroom. Draco lifted his head, and a slow smile spread across his lips. "I, uh, I'm really sorry for the way we treated you for the past years. I know nothing will ever make it up to you, but I brought Harry and Ron along anyway." Hermione smiled sheepishly, and pushed two dark figures into the room. Draco grimaced.
"Hey, man, no hard feelings alright? We were just messing with you. We're really sorry." Potter gave a small smile, and clapped Draco on the back. "I know there is no excuse for the way we treated you, but I hope that one day, you'll be able to forgive us." Draco nodded, and turned to Weasley, who was staring at his shoes.
"Well?" Draco smirked. Watching Weasley squirm was fun. "Sorry mate. Just don't hurt Hermione. If you do…" An evil glint appeared in Weasley's eyes, and something clicked in Draco's mind. However, it was removed from his mind as Hermione's soft arms wrapped around him, and she planted a small kiss on his cheek. "We can finally be together."