Work Text:
Prompt: Enemies to Lovers, and fear.
A03/FFn Name: Galx20
House: Slytherin
Class: Charms
Category: Standard
Word count: 2199
~~~~
The Great Hall was buzzing with anticipation as the first years took center stage. Headmistress McGonagall stood tall and proud as she sorted the 11-year-olds, though not in her role anymore; Hermione believed it was to make a statement for the younger students.
Hogwarts is safe, and I will protect you.
Hermione glanced over at Ginny. The youngest of the Weasleys was staring at the ceiling, eyes distant. Hermione looked up; the night was clear, and even with the candles, the stars shone brightly like the heavens. She reached across and gently grasped her hand. She knew Ginny’s family did not want her to leave so soon. It had only been 4 months since Fred’s death, and Molly’s protective nature had only grown.
Ginny squeezed her hand as if to say, 'I'm okay.'
Hermione turned back to the front. The Headmistress, still on stage, was now joined by another, a shorter, balding man who Hermione guessed was a newer staff member.
While she couldn’t hear their discussion, Hermione sensed the Headmistress was unhappy with the news. She glanced at the Great Hall door, and Hermione could see she was sporting her ‘you have three seconds to stop this, or I will give you detention face.’
After a few moments, McGonagall's gaze softened, and she nodded, seeming to concede to her internal struggle.
Hermione watched from her seat with a blend of confusion and curiosity as the balding man creaked open the Great Hall doors and escorted Draco Malfoy into the feast.
~~~~
“He cannot be here,” Hermione said firmly. She planned to confront the Headmistress in the morning, but knew it couldn’t wait. There was still a chance to resolve the issue and guide her to a sense of understanding.
“Well, hello to you, too, Ms. Granger.” She replied, eyes focused on the paperwork in front of her.
“I know why you are here, so you can save your breath. I will not change my decision.”
“Headmistress, please. Malfoy is a Death Eater and is responsible for many acts of evil.”
The Headmistress met her eye and removed her glasses, her work forgotten before her.
She sighed deeply, her usual stoic demeanor replaced by slumped shoulders and weary eyes, and she seemed to age right before the younger witch's eyes. Hermione felt a pang of guilt for the late hour and increased grief she was bringing to the older woman's attention, but she was not one to let things rest. This was wrong.
“Hermione, yes, I can agree with you on some level that Draco Malfoy has committed acts that were undeniably cruel and even sometimes harmful. But understand me,” She stopped and looked up at the adjusted wall. “Things aren’t always black or white; we must remember that. No one is innocent.” Her voice grew softer. Hermione followed her gaze to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, who was sleeping in his office chair.
Hermione stared at the sleeping man. After the battle, she heard everything from Harry—how Albus Dumbledore had planned to sacrifice her best friend for years, all in the name of the greater good. He used that young boy's trust and manipulated it into something vile. Hermione will never forgive the man for that.
“Headmistress. Please.” Her voice cracked softly.
McGonagall turned back to her with a pained expression and replied, “You best be on your way, Ms. Granger. You will need a full night's rest before classes start tomorrow.”
Hermione was furious when she finally left the headmistress's office. She tried again to make a case but was quickly shut down again.
The walk back did nothing to alleviate her anger; in fact, it seemed to intensify it. Around every corner, Hermione began seeing those who perished against the forces of evil. It wasn't fair that Malfoy, a known supporter of the Dark Lord, got to walk these halls while those who greeted death never would again.
~~~~
She was pinned down on her back. She struggled against the binds but found them immovable. If only she could grab her wand. A piercing laugh startled her. No, please, God no. The color began to drain from her face as Bellatrix sauntered towards her. Her black hair covered a majority of her face, but not her smile. A sneer of one who enjoys inflicting pain and misery, and right now was solely focused on Hermione. Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears as animalistic fear took hold of her. She struggled harder against the binds, but it was still no use. ‘Darling, don't hurt yourself. That's my job! Crucio!’
Hermione jolted awake. A silent scream still on her lips. Her face and back were drenched with sweat. The ache in her arm was slowly fading.
She glanced at her clock: 1:34 AM. She had only been able to sleep for three solid hours. The nightmares were becoming more frequent, and she rarely ever got a whole night's sleep anymore.
She was fine; she just needed to get readjusted to her new normal. That’s all. Or at least that's what she keeps telling herself.
She knew sleep wasn't possible now, so she dressed, prepared for the day, and went to the common room.
The fire was now mere embers, giving the room a steady, eerie glow. Hermione sat on the couch watching the shimmering coals. She felt weird being back at Hogwarts. After last year, school doesn’t seem like the most important thing anymore. She missed her friends above all else. Harry would know what to do about Malfoy, with Ron alongside. McGonagall might have reconsidered.
She shook off her thoughts, deciding that a walk would do her some good. Hermione quickly ran upstairs, grabbed her cloak, and headed out. While not the invisible one, it will do. She strolled the halls trying to get reacquainted once again.
There was a door. The door to the Room of Requirements was visible, but how? Hermione moved closer, perplexed. She didn’t open it? Suddenly, footsteps echoed further down the hall, and a glowing lantern illuminated the floor, growing closer to her. She cursed quietly and unsheathed her wand from her ankle. Not wanting to get caught sneaking around, Hermione flicked her wrist and hurried through the doorway.
The first thing Hermione noticed when entering the room was that this was not the Room of Requirements but the Room of Hidden Things. She moved inwards, taking in the several mountains of furniture stacked around the room. Didn’t this all get destroyed 4 months ago? Everything was just as it was.
Hermione startled as a heavy clang echoed around the room.
“Hello?” she called out, wand in hand.
There was no reply.
Curious, she wandered further in. She carefully made her way around a cluttered heap of tables, their surfaces strewn with forgotten items, and then, to her surprise, there he was, standing midst of the chaos. Malfoy. Hermione raised her wand, hoping the element of surprise was enough before bellowing out ‘Stupefy!’ He turned as if expecting her and cast a quick ‘Protego.’ The bright red light collided with the invisible shield before returning the room to silence. The two wizards stood before each other, arms raised and waiting.
“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” Said Hermione.
“Don’t believe that is any business of yours, Granger,” Malfoy replied coldly. Hermione clenched her jaw. God, she hated his arrogant ass.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
He narrowed his eyes on her. “What? You get a free pass now?”
“No, I mean you shouldn’t be at Hogwarts.”
His wand hand wavered before dropping completely at his side.
“I'm not your enemy, Granger.”
Hermione stiffened. “I think you are.”
Why wasn't he fighting her more? Hermione studied the Slytherin before her. She could not look at him during the feast, but now up close, she noticed he was paler than before. His clothes were baggier than usual, and his face seemed slimmer, making his already high cheekbones sharper.
“You know I did a lot to help you and Potter during the war.”
Hermione scoffed, "You really think you're something special, Malfoy, and it's astounding how egotistical you are. When exactly did you help us? Was it when you belittled us, brought Death Eaters into the school, or when you eagerly worked with Voldemort? It's time you faced the truth." She didn’t realize she had raised her voice until she finished her statement.
A heavy silence enveloped them again. Malfoy’s usual bravado seemed to deflate before her. His pale cheeks turned slightly red.
“He was going to kill my family,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.
Hermione lowered her wand. “He was going to kill all of us. That doesn’t ma–”
“He was at my house, Hermione! Do you think I could defy him?” Malfoy interrupted, his words hard and firm. “He was always watching, listening, and when he gives you a task, you do it!” He paused, holding his breath as if willing some control on his emotions.
“He was going to kill my mother.” He quickly wiped his eyes and stared at something off her left shoulder.
Hermione stood frozen, eyes fixed on the Slytherin before her. The anger remained, burning deep in her stomach, but a new feeling washed over her—guilt. She swallowed, feeling acid rise in her throat. She couldn't imagine living in a house with the Dark Lord– even thinking about it gives her the creeps.
Malfoy was looking at her now. She needed to get out of there. Now.
“I will see you in class, Malfoy.” Her voice sounded strange, as if it wasn’t her talking.
He stayed silent, feeling the weight of unspoken words between them. Silence hung in the air, and with that, she turned and walked away.
Was Draco evil? Evil things were done by him, but perhaps the circumstances and upbringing had a significant portion to do with it.
Did he deserve forgiveness?
Absolutely not.
~~~~
Hermione stumbled towards her last class of the day. She was thoroughly exhausted and quite ready to fall into bed. Only getting a couple of hours of sleep was really taking its toll on her.
She ran into Ginny outside the Potions classroom. The younger Gryffindor greeted her with a bright, cheerful smile. Hermione couldn't help but return the warm expression despite her exhaustion.
They decided on sitting nearer the front, easier to see and away from any annoying Slytherins. She felt like someone was watching her and turned and caught Malfoy’s eye. His expression was impassive, but his eyes seemed almost inscrutable - as if he was trying to piece a puzzle together without all the wedges. She wished she knew what he was thinking. Ginny nudged her gently, prompting Hermione to shift her focus. The moment was broken.
“Class! Please, everyone, take your seats, and we will begin!” Slughorn's eyes flickered around the room. “My my my look at, all of you!” Hermione glanced over at Ginny, who looked equally uninterested.
Slughorn was not a favorite of Hermione’s. She found him deceitful and full of false charm. The Slugclub, a prime example, Hermione strongly disliked the idea of students being chosen solely for Slughorn because they might become influential. It was wrong and a severe misuse of a teacher's role.
The class drone on with Slughorn like most professors, going through the syllabus and major responsibilities for this last year of school. Hermione, who, as always, read ahead and knew how important 7th year was, tuned him out. She was on the brink of sleep when Ginny gave her another hardy nudge. Slughorn was staring at her.
“What was that, sir?” She asked, attempting to keep her voice steady.
Slughorn frowned. “Please see me after class, Miss Granger.”
Shit.
“So, Miss Granger, what do you think?”
“Personally, sir, I think it is ridiculous.”
“Oh?” Professor Slughorn said, leaning back with a smug look on his face.
“Yes, professor, I believe co-tutoring with Draco Malfoy is a terrible idea.” Hermione rubbed her brow. She was getting a headache.
“I don't mind the idea.” Hermione glanced to the side and groaned. Malfoy smirked at her. Apparently, he had gotten over the discussion last night.
Slughorn clapped his hands together, startling both of them. “Fantastic! Growing unity between rival houses! Just what this school needs right now.”
Well, Hermione agreed with him. Why does it have to be her and this egotistical weasel?
“So Granger, what works best for you?” Malfoy asked as they walked.
“Hmm.” She pretended to think about it. “How about never.”
Malfoy smirked at her. “Just think of all the knowledge we could pass on together.” He said, eyes bright with humor. Hermione scuffed and shook her head.
“Why did Slughorn choose you?”
“Well, because I'm great at potions obviously,” Malfoy replied with a shrug. “And Notts said no.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow. Why did he say yes? He must have known it was going to be her. So why say yes?
“How about Saturday at 10 o'clock?”
He cast a sideways glance, a warm smile spreading across his face. Her breath hitched in her throat; had his eyes always been grey?
Where did that come from??
“I'll meet you there, Granger.”