Hermione smoothed out her skirt.
The NEWTS season had brought on many surprises for her, namely the amount of homework they were given. One would think, in order to prepare for the oncoming NEWTS, professors of Hogwarts would really cut down on the homework assignments, but even The Brightest Witch of Her Age was becoming irritated with the work piling up on her desk. Not that it was completely unexpected, but ‘’couldn’t they ease up on some of the work for the Golden Trio,’’ Ron often sighed melodramatically.
Having to restart her seventh school year after the war had come as a blow. While Hermione had never considered leaving her education behind, for most part, she expected that being a hero of war would get you some freeaways, and she’d be able to get some rest. However, with Kingsley becoming Minister of Magic, he reassured the trio that he would not need their assistance in rebuilding the trust of the now war-torn Magical Britain, and they would be allowed, even encouraged, to return to Hogwarts the coming semester.
Most of the school year had gone by rather smoothly, most of the children of Death Eaters not returning for their seventh year, with the exception of one Draco Malfoy. Hermione had not paid him much attention, and Malfoy had gone the better part of the semester moving through the school as quiet as a ghost, his bravure and confidence of earlier years fading into the whispers he was followed by.
Soon after the start of the semester, Hermione started watching him glide through the hallways, eyes unmoving and brows furrowed, as if in deep thought. She often thought this habit of hers a bit creepy, her eyes finding Draco in every hall, every classroom, watching. It wasn’t as much concern as it was curiosity. Malfoy had all but stopped talking to most people, even the Slytherin students often noting his tendency for isolation this school year. For all she knew about Azkaban, it was safe for her to assume that at least some of this behaviour of his could be explained by the few weeks he was to stay in Azkaban, alongside his father.
Soon after the end of the war, trials had begun for the Death Eaters immediately. Hermione, and a bit more reluctantly, Ron and Harry, had testified against the long-term imprisonment of the underage Death Eaters and the children of already well established Death Eaters, and while Wizengamot was dead set on some sort of punishment, the pleas and arguments of many had swayed them and Draco Malfoy and his classmates involved with Voldemort’s cause had received only a short time in Azkaban. Hermione had been rather pleased with her work the morning the Daily Prophet came in, with the announcement that children of Death Eaters were allowed to return to school. The chance to return was taken only by the Malfoy family, the rest of the families too ashamed to go back to Hogwarts, seeing as it was one of the snake pits a lot of prejudice had rooted in.
It felt appropriate that they finish their education as well, was Hermione’s argument before Wizengamot and before that, her friends, for you cannot blame them for the mistakes of their parents.
Despite their rather strained relationship with one another before, Hermione had quietly accepted the unspoken apologies of Malfoy. With the start of the year, they were often assigned to work together in Potions as part of a small inter-house friendship program McGonagall had suggested. Ron and Harry had been completely livid with this program at first, the first few September evenings of their repeated seventh year filled with complaints and whines of having to work with Slytherins echoing through the Gryffindor common room.
Her and Malfoy’s assignments and work was usually done quietly, with little conversation, his Adam’s apple bobbing every time he spoke to her, out of shame, maybe, the witch thought. Not like the lack of talking restrained Malfoy from spitting out some harsher quips, which often made the corner of her lips twitch slightly. Clearly, if anything, the war had little effect on the edge of his character. This time, his words of irritation were never targeted at her.
Later on, they started to exchange polite greetings, the first time she nodded her head and greeted Malfoy clearly stunning him, as she turned the corner of the hallway after exclaiming a light ‘’hello’’, she noticed Malfoy rendered nearly speechless, still standing there as she left his eyesight. Not one to stay silent for long, Malfoy had returned her greetings the next morning. She didn’t want to assume too much, Merlin knows she has a knack for it, but Hermione thought it would be safe to assume, that at the very least, they were friendly acquaintances.
Shaking her head out of her thoughts, the witch pushed her wand into her pocket and went for the door of the Head Girl dorms.
‘’Enough with the work, Hermione,’’ had said Ginny before individually deciding that Hermione must get some rest before exams, and so had invited her for impromptu walks around the Hogwarts territory during the late evening hours. They had been rather enjoyable, Hermione mused to herself, if not for the fresh spring air, then definitely for her newfound freedom as Head Girl.
Ginny had often teased her about it on their walks, musing that maybe she was given the Head Girl title for her efforts in the war, more than for her efforts during her previous school years. While initially smacking Ginny’s forearm for such accusations, Hermione thought she did not mind it much. Head Girl is Head Girl, regardless, and she couldn’t deny that some authority felt a bit nice.
The sunset of this spring evening would be hers alone to witness, unfortunately, as Ginny had puffed out her chest the previous evening and announced that as a self-proclaimed Best Sibling Ever, it is her duty to help Ron study, despite her being a year lower than Ron himself. Hermione had arched her brow and wondering if her absence was really the result of Ron’s poor studying or her recent fling with Lee Jordan.
Mindlessly walking around the grounds of Hogwarts, she was actually thankful to be alone for once. With the end of the war came many interviews, many new friends, many questions and plenty work to be done that followed her even behind the gates of Hogwarts and more and more she learned to be grateful for the few minutes of peace and quiet she could get for herself. She strode slowly for the rock that had printed its form in the spring grass by now, the sun nearly burning her eyes. It had been quite long since the last time Hermione had a sunset to cherish all by herself.
Settling herself down at the edge of the rock and muttering a quick warming charm, she must’ve been there for only a few minutes before the shadow of a familiar figure behind her caught her attention.
‘’Granger,’’ Malfoy drawled in greeting.
Hermione turned her head around, the corners of her lips moving to make a slight smile. ‘’Really, Malfoy, is this how you speak to everyone? Surely the near condescending tone couldn’t be helping in making,’’ she quipped in a singsong voice, ‘’beautiful new friendships and connections?’’ She had quoted McGonagall’s words at the start of the school year’s feast, and while she definitely thought beautiful new friendships was a curious way to describe the program, it’s not like Hogwarts didn’t try.
Malfoy’s brows shot up high, before returning to their previous place. ‘’Wouldn’t expect you to start memorizing the Headmaster’s speeches, now.’’ He glanced at the empty spot besides her, eyes slightly squinted as to keep the sun away. ‘’Spot’s taken?’’
The witch murmured a ‘’not at all,’’ before shifting slighly to the right to get some more space. As he sat down next to her, she noticed that the bright orange sunset in front of them had a way to make Malfoy’s eyes appear almost blindigly grey, more than usual. She felt he had clearly not thought this little meeting of theirs through, his hands gripping the fabric of his pants, evidently nervous. Couldn’t tell from his posture, she thought. In the recent weeks the blow to his confident stride had been remedied, somehow, and she found him sitting up straighter during their Potions work together, the air around him lighter.
‘’How’s preparing for NEWTS treating you?’’ Hermione asked. The awkward silence had engulfed their little bubble for too long, can’t blame a witch for trying.
Malfoy turned his head to regard her frame and scoffed lightly. ‘’You couldn’t have found a more boring topic to speak about if you tried,’’ he replied. Hermione frowned in return, setting her chin proudly higher while speaking. ‘’If you didn’t notice, you were the one approaching me here. Forgive me for trying to make conversation.’’
A playful twitch played with Malfoy’s lips before he licked his teeth and straightened his back. ‘’Listen, Granger,’’ he started carefully. ‘’I know I haven’t spoken about it much—‘’, interrupted by Hermione’s quiet, sarcastic wonder why, ‘’—but I’m sorry.’’ He took a quick glance at her arm, where he knew the scar of Mudblood still remained and quickly averted his eyes back to meet hers, as if thinking his action inappropriate. ‘’I’m sorry,’’ he repeated. Hermione opened her mouth, but Malfoy shushed her.
‘’Don’t, Granger,’’ he shook his head and said lightly, ‘’let me speak.’’ She clamped her jaw shut. ‘’I’m sorry, and I don’t mean only for that,’’ he waved his hand in the direction of her arm, ‘’I mean for all of it. From first year to now. I—I wasn’t thinking. I parroted my father,’’ he looked away from her, ‘’and looking back, it’s fucking ridiculous how I thought it was normal even until the grand age of sixteen.’’
Hermione moved her hand ever so slightly, as if to touch his, then changed her mind quickly and took it back to her lap, fingers of both her hands intertwined, and stared straight forward, the sun making itself less noticeable every moment.
Malfoy swallowed, his lips in a thin line and continued. ‘’You didn’t deserve it. Nobody did, but you much less.’’
After a long moment, Hermione nodded. ‘’I accept your apology, I think.’’ She turned to look at him. ‘’And I forgive you.’’ Malfoy met her eyes, his own widened and brow furrowed. ‘’I know, I know,’’ she dismissed the early start of a sentence Malfoy was about to express with her hand. ‘’It is a rather quick decision, but I’ve thought about it a lot,’’ she said quietly. ‘’I haven’t held a grudge against you for it for quite a bit now, seeing as there’s no point to.’’ The girl turned her head to look at the gold lining of the sun disappearing behind the horizon.
‘’I don’t hate you, for what it’s worth. There were plenty of things you could’ve done better, but I think it applies to most of us.’’ She felt Malfoy’s tense frame relax a bit, and he rolled his shoulders slightly. ‘’So, I forgive you.’’
Hermione turned back to Malfoy again, smiling slightly. ‘’I suppose it took you quite a bit of courage to apologise to someone you’re still behind in school.’’
‘’You think,’’ he muttered half-heartedly, his cheeks twinged with a drop of pink. ‘’My ego is forced to shrink by the day.’’
The witch laughed, her shoulders shaking lightly. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw him watching her, a smile tugging at his lips. ‘’I can imagine.’’
Eyeing the field around them, now dark, she exhaled. ‘’Suppose it’s time to return, no? Unfortunately for you, I am the one with Head Girl privileges to bend the rules a bit, but you…’’ She lulled, eyes setting on his. ‘’Really wouldn’t you to lose those points you worked so hard to earn for Slytherin in Arithmancy.’’
Malfoy scoffed lightly in return, but she could see there was little work put in to make it look intimidating. ‘’Threatening me, is it? Every day you surprise me,’’ he quipped. Getting off the rock, he looked at her, eyes serious.
‘’I meant everything I said, Granger.’’
He turned around, his back facing her, and before she had time to reply, he cut her off. ‘’See you at Potions.’’
Hermione watched him go, the moonlight slightly enchanting his frame to be more visible, and eventually he disappeared in the spring night.
Shaking her head, she followed the path by which he had left, heading back to her dorm. McGonagall’s reminders of friendships and connections buzzed in her head, and Hermione, for once, appreciated the professor’s nudges and pokes at the importance of friendships.
Perhaps it was time for a new one.