Hermione couldn’t believe her eyes when she found Draco Malfoy, of all people, slumped against a wall, looking like he'd just had a run-in with a bottle of Firewhiskey. “Malfoy,” she said sharply, raising an eyebrow as she approached, “What are you doing here? You’re going to get in serious trouble if anyone finds you like this.”
Draco looked up lazily, his bleary eyes focusing on her for a moment before a smirk spread across his face. "Trouble? Now, Granger, that would imply I care about rules," he slurred. "But then again, you probably enjoy rules, don’t you? You’d be lost without them."
Hermione crossed her arms, unimpressed. "I don’t have time for your nonsense, Malfoy. You’re completely wasted."
He gave a dramatic wave of his hand. “Waste is relative, Granger. I’m just… relaxing. Taking a break from being perfect all the time. Which, by the way, seems to be your thing.”
She rolled her eyes, not even dignifying that with a response. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
Draco tried to straighten himself, but his legs wobbled. "Oh, I’m sure I’m the worst. But you love it, Granger. Admit it," he added with a smug grin, his voice thick with flirtation.
Hermione shot him a look that was half disbelief, half annoyance. "I do not ‘love it,’ Malfoy. I just can’t leave you here to get yourself into even more trouble."
"Really?" Draco said, his gaze narrowing with a hint of mockery. “You’d risk your precious reputation to help me, the terrible Slytherin? That’s so like you, Granger. Always trying to save the world.”
She let out a frustrated breath. “You’re impossible.”
Draco staggered forward, almost falling into her, but Hermione caught him, pushing him upright. “If you want to keep your dignity, what’s left of it, you better keep your balance, Malfoy.”
“Balance?” Draco echoed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’m perfectly balanced, Granger. Just... momentarily distracted. By you, obviously.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “You are so obnoxious when you’re drunk.”
He grinned, his head tilting closer to hers, his breath hot against her face. "Maybe, but admit it, you enjoy the attention."
Hermione shoved him back a little more forcefully than necessary, her face flushed with irritation, and something else she didn’t want to acknowledge. “Get over yourself.”
Draco’s grin didn’t falter. “You’re just mad I’m irresistible.”
“Not even close,” she muttered under her breath. But there was a slight, almost imperceptible smirk tugging at her lips despite herself.
They made their way up the stairs to the special dormitory that Draco had been assigned to, it was this, or straight to Azkaban.
"Hold still, Malfoy," she instructed, trying to steady him.
He chuckled, leaning even more heavily on her. “Relax, Granger. I’ve got this. I’m not some helpless fool.” Just as he said it, the stairs shifted under their feet, tilting dangerously. Before she could react, Draco lost his balance and tumbled into her. They both crashed against the railing, Draco’s chest pressing against hers in the most awkward and, strangely, intimate way.
Hermione grunted, trying to push him off, but his arm was still wrapped around her for support. “Are you seriously this clumsy?”
Draco looked down at her, his silver eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’m not clumsy, Granger. I’m just... distracted. You know, by how stunning you look up close.”
She scoffed, pushing against him again to get back on her feet. "You really need to shut up when you're drunk."
Draco’s lips curled into a lazy smirk. “I can’t help it, Granger. You make it so easy to flirt with you.”
“I’m not flirting with you,” she said firmly, though her words were undermined by the faint flush creeping up her neck.
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because it feels like you’re enjoying it.”
“You’re impossible, Malfoy.”
When they finally reached the top, she shot him a pointed look. “You better not remember any of this in the morning.”
Draco, however, was still grinning, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, I’ll remember, Granger. I always remember.”
Before Hermione could respond, she heard a faint sound, a shuffle of footsteps, growing nearer. She turned, seeing Argus Filch, the ever-grumpy janitor, walking down the hallway, muttering to himself.
Draco’s eyes widened in panic. Without thinking, he grabbed Hermione’s wrist and yanked her into his room. She stumbled in, almost crashing into him, but Draco kept a firm grip on her arm.
"Keep quiet," he hissed, his breath quick, his face only inches from hers.
When the noise faded, Draco slowly let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, he was still leaning heavily against the wall, looked at Hermione with a mischievous glint in his eyes, though there was a dull haze to them from the alcohol. His words were slow and slurred, but his tone was teasing, as if he was sharing a particularly amusing story.
"You know, Granger," he began, staggering a little before steadying himself, "I spent two weeks in Azkaban once. They only kept me there for two weeks, but it felt like a bloody lifetime." He gave a half-hearted laugh, clearly amused by the memory, even if it wasn’t funny at all. "You'd think that place would break someone, yeah? But no, apparently, I’m built of sterner stuff." He puffed out his chest a bit, swaying dramatically.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, unsure of where this was going, but she couldn’t help but listen. His usual cocky demeanor had been replaced with something a bit more... unhinged.
"The Dementors, though," he continued, the light in his eyes dimming slightly, "they were a real pain in the arse. Honestly, I think they were trying to break me. Every time they got close, I could hear it. Your screams, Granger." He paused, his smile faltering for a split second, before he chuckled again, like it was nothing. "I mean, it wasn’t just any scream, oh no. It was your scream. Over and over again in my head. I thought I'd lose my mind. Thought I was going to turn mad." He let out a drunken giggle, not quite able to hide the edge of something darker in his voice.
Hermione froze, the words hitting her like a brick. He looked almost too casual about it.
"Imagine that," he continued, voice growing more theatrical as he leaned closer, clearly a little too intoxicated to realize how personal it had become. "Me, Draco Malfoy, the big bad Slytherin, losing my marbles to your screams in Azkaban. That’s a fun thought, isn't it? Who would’ve thought it?" He grinned, like he was telling a joke.
She stood there, stunned, trying to absorb his words. But his smirk never faltered, even as the weight of the moment seemed to drag his energy down just a little. He wasn’t trying to look sorrowful; he was just... drunk. And maybe that’s why he could say these things without the usual walls he'd put up.
“They kept saying I was fine after two weeks, that I’d come back sane. But honestly, I wasn’t so sure," Draco went on, almost as if he were now completely detached from the experience. "But I got out, didn’t I? Came back like a bloody hero. The Dementors didn't win, and neither did the bloody Ministry. And here I am, still charming and irritating the hell out of everyone, including you, Granger."
He gave a lazy wink, clearly trying to lighten the mood, though his words still hung heavily in the air.
“But, uh, just so you know,” he added with a cocky grin, swaying as he gave her a pointed look, “I’m not all bad. You didn’t think you were the only one suffering, did you? I'm a bloody tortured soul, Granger. You might have gotten the worst of it, but I had my own demons too."
Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word in, Draco stumbled forward, his hand gripping her arm to steady himself. “You’re lucky I’m so charming while I’m drunk, Granger," he said, giving her a half-smile. “Otherwise, I’d be a right mess.”
"I didn't know..." She mumbled
Draco chuckled, the glint in his eyes a little softer than usual, but his smirk was still there. “Well, Granger, you know I’m not all bad. I have layers.” He tilted his head, clearly amused by his own words, but then he shifted, growing more serious, if only slightly.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about Dementors before," he began, swaying slightly on his feet. "But let me tell you, you really don’t understand until you’re up close and personal with them. They get inside your head, inside your memories.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice in a mock conspiratorial tone. “And they can make you relive a memory over and over again. Like a sick, twisted little game." He let out a humorless laugh. "It's like they pick the worst possible thing in your life and just keep replaying it, non-stop.”
Hermione’s stomach turned slightly at his words, but she kept listening, curious despite herself.
Draco continued, leaning back and gesturing vaguely, clearly trying to lighten the mood with his usual bravado. “So, guess what they picked for me? Hm? That’s right, they picked that one. My aunt, torturing you.” His voice dropped into something a little darker, more intense. “I didn’t get to choose the memory, Granger. They went digging in my brain, found that moment, and just kept playing it. Over and over again. All day, all night. All I could hear was your screams.”
He paused, looking at her with an exaggerated smirk, though there was something hollow in his eyes. “That’s the fun part, right? You’re stuck with it. They keep doing it until your brain cracks.” He raised an eyebrow. “But I guess I’m tougher than that. Guess I made it out a little less insane than most would have.” He winked at her, but it wasn’t the usual flirty wink. It was… raw.
Hermione didn’t know what to say. She just stared at him, caught between anger, sympathy, and confusion. Draco Malfoy, of all people, was actually talking about this. Her screams, from that moment in the Department of Mysteries, were trapped in his mind for two weeks in Azkaban.
He kept going, unaware of the effect his words were having. “It was rough out there, Granger. Two weeks of it. Two weeks of hearing you scream, over and over again. And the funny thing is, the more they did it, the more real it felt. It was like I was back there, really hearing it again. Every night, I’d go to sleep, and guess what? It started all over again.”
Draco’s voice was still cocky, still playful, but there was an edge to it now. A certain darkness behind his flirtatious facade.
“And it made me think,” he said, his voice softening just slightly. “I kept thinking I should’ve done something. I should’ve stopped it, shouldn’t I? But I didn’t. And now…” He let out a short, almost bitter laugh. “Here I am, still stuck with it. And yet, you’re still here, helping me. It’s bloody ridiculous, don’t you think?”
Hermione blinked, realizing there was a single tear slowly sliding down her cheek. It wasn’t even something she’d meant to happen, but his words, the weight of them, she couldn’t help it. Her hand instinctively went to her cheek, wiping the tear away before he could see.
But Draco was already looking at her, his eyes narrowing as he took in the change in her expression. A slow grin spread across his face, and he took a step closer, his voice full of that same teasing, flirtatious tone, but now with a little more bite.
“Well, well, Granger,” he said with a smirk, though his eyes softened just a touch. “I didn’t think you’d go all soft on me. I was expecting a ‘shut up, Malfoy’ or a ‘you’re disgusting,’ not… tears.” He paused, his grin widening. “Maybe I’m really getting to you, eh? Must be my charm.”
Draco's smirk lingered as Hermione stood there, trying to collect herself. But then, out of nowhere, she felt this overwhelming wave of emotion hit her. The weight of everything he had just said—the screams, the guilt, the torment he’d been through—it was too much. She didn’t want to cry, but the tears came anyway, hot and fast, slipping down her cheeks.
Draco’s eyes flicked to her face, still looking smug, but the sight of her tears knocked the cockiness out of him for a moment. Before he could even process it, Hermione threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into an unexpected, tight hug.
Draco went rigid, surprised for a second, but then his usual flair kicked in. He grinned, his arms awkwardly hovering around her. “Oh, so now we’re hugging? Is this part of your Gryffindor ‘save the day’ routine? You know, I always imagined you’d be the one to push me off a cliff, not the one clutching me like a… well, like this.”
Hermione pulled back slightly, her hands still on his chest as she tried to get her breathing under control. “Shut up, Malfoy,” she muttered, still sniffling.
Draco's grin only widened. “Well, well, Granger, what’s this? A hug and tears? I’m practically drowning in your affection.” He raised an eyebrow, his usual cocky demeanor returning. “You really do fall for me in the weirdest ways, don’t you?”
“I don’t,” she shot back, shaking her head and swiping at her face. “You just—you just—you can’t be serious, can you?”
“Me? Serious?” Draco chuckled, tilting his head like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “I’m the epitome of seriousness, Granger. Just ask anyone. But fine, I’ll let you have this moment. You know, it’s a rare one. I’m not exactly used to being the cause of a crying Granger.”
Hermione tried to pull away, but he leaned into the embrace, trapping her just a little bit longer. “Are you going to keep this up, or can I get back to being my usual charming self?”
“Charming?” she repeated, lifting an eyebrow and finally pulling back completely, wiping her eyes.
“Oh, yes. Very charming,” Draco said, his voice dripping with teasing as he gave her a smirk. “Can’t you tell? You’re clearly captivated.” He raised his eyebrows dramatically. “I mean, you did just hug me. That’s big progress for a Granger.”
Hermione let out a shaky laugh despite herself, rolling her eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Yeah, I know,” Draco said with a wink. “But admit it, you secretly love it.”
“Not even close,” she muttered, her voice thick with affection despite the exasperation.
“Well, keep telling yourself that, Granger,” Draco said, clearly enjoying every second of this, “but you’re not fooling anyone. Especially not me.”
And despite herself, despite everything he’d just shared, Hermione couldn’t help but laugh—a small, genuine laugh that surprised both of them. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t mind him being this impossible.