Forevermore

Hermione walked down to the dungeons, her footsteps echoing in the silence. She felt a terrible pit of anxiety in her stomach. She hated going for a lesson unprepared, and while she had read a few texts on occlumency, she found it too practical a concept to just grab by reading. She always felt at a slight disadvantage with the purely practical aspects of magic, the greatest example being flying.

As she reached the potions classroom, she saw Malfoy was already waiting for her there.

“I didn’t realise tardiness was a Gryffindor trait,” he drawled as she approached him.

“I am precisely on time,” she said in a clipped voice.

“Yet I managed to be here before you.”

Hermione felt her skin prickle with annoyance. Here was the Malfoy she knew and expected, getting under her skin in no time. It seemed the boy in the cupboard, the one she had fixated on for the last month, was just an aberration. A combination of too much alcohol and dash of guilt she supposed.

“Stop trying to analyse me Granger,” he said, reading her correctly. “I am riddle wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.”

He gave her a half-smirk that made Hermione skip a heartbeat.

“Did you just quote Churchill?” she said, dumbfounded.

“Like I said Granger, riddle wrapped in a mystery, etc etc. Now do you want to actually learn occlumency or stand here chatting”

He ignored her question and instead led her down a few rooms and stopped at what looked like an unused dungeon.

“After you,” he gestured.

She hesitated. Going into an abandoned dungeon alone with Malfoy was giving her second thoughts. Maybe she should have let Harry accompany her.

“Don’t worry Granger. I can’t harm you,” he said, once again gauging her emotions correctly. “I’m on probation remember?”

“Funny,” she said nervously. That’s exactly what Pansy said.”

“Maybe we have a secret ‘I hate Hermione Granger’ club where we have weekly meetings to plot the Golden Girl’s downfall” he mocked.

“Or maybe Granger, we really are wary of our probation terms and don’t want to make things more difficult for ourselves than they already are. Ever thought of that? That maybe everything isn’t always about you?”

Hermione’s head was now spinning. Where was all this hostility coming from?

She lifted up her chin and said in her iciest tone “Of course everything isn’t about me. The centre of the universe is and has always been the Malfoy heir. Which is why you must lead, and I will follow in after you.”

An hour later Hermione was exhausted. Both she and Malfoy had been in a foul mood and he had put her through a series of mental exercises that appeared to her had nothing to do with occlumency. Her anger and annoyance at him had got her through the first few shielding exercises, but now she was too tired to channel her ire. The only reason she was even still standing on her feet was because she was not going to give in to any challenge set to her by Draco Malfoy.

“This is the last one Granger, and it’s going to sting,” he said condescendingly.

“What do you mean, sting?” she asked sharply, getting her wand arm ready. If he was thinking of hexing her, she was going to get him first.

“Your mental shields are very weak. So, I will be using a stinging hex, a very watered-down version mind, to see if you can at all defend yourself.”

“And how do you know my mental shields are weak?” she huffed.

“I know because you’ve hardly managed to get through some very basic exercises. Spending time with Potter and Weasley has rubbed off on you.”

“I held my own just fine during the war.”

“Yes, you did. However, I would’ve thought your too-close-for-my-comfort experience with my aunt would have made you want to learn some mental defences. The Dark Lord may be dead, but his followers are still on the loose. Don’t be ignorant enough to think they aren’t looking for a way to get their revenge, or arrogant enough to think they couldn’t harm you if they ever found you.”

It was such a low blow that Hermione only stared at him obstinately.

“Fine,” she said eventually. “Don’t hold back.”

“I won’t.”

He wordlessly cast the stinging hex at her and right when it hit her, she felt him enter her mind. He wasn’t being too invasive; she could only feel a sliver of his presence in her mind. A surprisingly gentle tap-tap and then he was accessing her memory from an hour ago when they had met. Proving his point about her poor defences, he pulled back almost immediately.

“Again Granger.”

He stung her and entered her mind once again, this time viewing a memory from her early childhood. It was a lovely sunny day and she was in the park on her favourite swing, with her mom and dad. Her dad was pushing her, and her mom cheered on while filming a video of them on her recorder. She hardly remembered this day and watched on mesmerised, as the young Hermione squealed with pure glee at being pushed higher. Her dad was laughing and shouting words of encouragement. She wished she could walk up to her parents, and just hold on to them. Hermione felt Malfoy’s presence recede, but she didn’t want to let go of this memory - a moment full of love and happiness. She stared at her parents faces, every crease every freckle a warm comfort she hadn’t felt in so long. She was overwhelmed with yearning.

Then a whisper from far away called, “Granger, look at me.”

She opened her eyes and looked up. His eyes were bright silver. They brought her back to the present, grounded her. Slowly, the memory faded, and she felt tears escaping her.

“I’m sorry Granger, I looked for a childhood memory thinking it would be the easier for you to process,” he said gently.

He came closer and run his thumb down her cheek along the path of her tears. Then in the most unexpected manner he bent down and gently wiped them away with a kiss.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he murmured and then let her go.

Hermione’s head was positively swirling now. What world was she in? Had Malfoy really kissed her? And why in the world had she run off? She should’ve slapped him, or cursed him, or at least reprimanded him. She needed help - right now. She cast her patronus, sent out her message and then tried to calm her breath.

Another hour later, Hermione and Ginny were sitting in a muggle pub, away from prying eyes and ears.

“I was so glad to get you patronus,” said Ginny. “I love Harry and every moment I spend with him is valuable, but I think we need a girls’ night every now and then.”

Hermione nodded while simultaneously trying to chug down her margarita.

“I guess you’re more in need of girls night?” asked Ginny with a bemused expression.

“You have no idea,” retorted Hermione

“Well then, drink up and spill.”

Hermione finished her glass, then poured another from their pitcher, drank half of it in a huge gulp and blurted out, “Malfoy kissed me.”

“I am sorry I must’ve been hit by a bludger, because I think I just heard you say Malfoy kissed you?!”

“Yes.”

“WHAT?! No wait first let me understand this. Did he force you or …?”

“We had met for occlumency,” began Hermione carefully, “and we had almost finished for the day when he said he wanted to try accessing my memories to gauge how bad I was at shielding. The first memory he saw was just of me being annoyed with him, but then he saw a memory from my childhood…” Hermione paused.

“Go on,” Ginny encouraged.

“Well that was it. I think he just wanted to access the memory and leave, just to prove a point, but I kind of got stuck in the moment. I didn’t want to leave. I hadn’t even remembered that day in so long. Watching them, watching myself with them – I just didn’t want to leave.”

Ginny sucked in a long breath and Hermione plodded on.

“He brought me back out from the memory, and I had tears streaming down my face. He just swooped down and kissed them away,” she finished with a sigh, her finger now caressing the exact spot where he had touched her.

“That is the most un-Malfoy like behaviour ever. I could never imagine him being nice, let alone gentle.”

“Exactly, right?” said Hermione with relief. Finally, someone understood her.

 “This is exactly why I called you tonight. I just don’t know what to make of it.”

“Malfoy kissed you,” said Ginny a slow smile spreading across her face.

“Draco sodding Malfoy actually kissed you! I have so many conflicting emotions right now that I don’t know how to process this information. Has he made any advances before?”, she asked, now full of curiosity.

“No. Though there was that time when we were in the closet.”

Ginny almost choked. While she was getting over her fits of coughing, Hermione proceeded to tell her about her game night.

“I am going to need another pitcher,” slurred Ginny. Telling her had been the right decision. She had been just as shocked and confused as Hermione and was now attempting to help her make sense of Malfoy’s mannerisms.

“Let’s say Malfoy has a crush on you, that would explain why he’s being nice, why he kissed you, and maybe even why Pansy has been more friendly, wouldn’t it?”

“Or,” interrupted Hermione, “what if he’s just trying to make some innocent advances so that he can then use his proximity to me to better his reputation in the wizarding world.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes, “That sounds like something that Ron would say.”

“Well, it is what he suggested when Theo started talking to me.”

“Listen,” she said waggling her finger, “you are approaching this all wrong. They don’t get to decide whether they talk to you or not. You are Hermione Granger. You decide who is worth your time. You and Theo are friends because you were able to look past his affiliations with the death eaters. They are not settling by talking to you, you are the one taking a high road and giving them a benefit of doubt. Don’t let my brother lessen your self-worth.”

The next morning, Hermione was at the Gryffindor table nursing her well-deserved hangover when she noticed multiple owls swooping over to Pansy. She wouldn’t have paid this much attention, but then she saw Pansy just take all the mail and drop it in a bag without as much as a second glance. Something Pansy had said earlier clicked in place. She stood up and walked over to the Slytherin table.

“Morning Granger. Fancy changing houses?” said Pansy, half amused.

“Not really. In fact, I am here demonstrating your favourite Gryffindor trait. Being nosey.

What is in that bag of yours?”

“None of your business”

“And if I wanted to make it my business?”

“Then I would say mind it anyway.”

Hermione made a grab for her bag and Pansy swept it out of her reach. However, one letter fell out. Hermione snapped the seal open, and read at lightning speed:

You are nothing but death eater scum. I hope you burn on a pyre with all your death eater friends. You are a disgrace to the wizarding world. Think you’re so high and mighty because you’re pure blood? Let’s see how you fare when I see you on the streets. You sl-

Hermione had read enough. She was trembling with anger.

“How many of these do you get a day?” she hissed.

When Pansy said nothing, she repeated, “How many?!”

“A few, they’ve died down a bit now.”

“They’re all this vile?”

“Yeah.”

But it wasn’t Pansy who had answered. It was Blaise. He looked at Hermione sceptically.

“What do you plan to do now? Open a society for death-eater reforms?”

He linked his arms with Pansy and guided her away.

“You might think you’re being very virtuous, caring for us ‘outcasts’, but we really don’t need your pity,” he enforced.

Hermione silently stared at their backs as they exited the hall.

Harry and Ron had come up next to her and were quickly reading the revolting excuse for a letter.

She looked to them and saw the same rage in their eyes.

“Looks like it’s time for the golden trio to shake things up again,” said Harry, and she couldn’t agree more.

The week passed by soon enough and it was the weekend again. Nothing brought the three best friends together better than plotting against a common enemy. Only this time Hermione wasn’t sure who the enemy really was. She, Harry and Ron had spent the whole week trying to figure out the best way to stop the hate the Slytherins were getting. Unfortunately, they were getting nowhere. The wizarding world at large had suffered at the hands of Voldemort’s followers. No one wanted to sound like they were sympathising with the death eaters. If it sounded like Harry was extending any kind of support towards them, the repercussions would be far and wide. The three of them could not afford for any leniency towards the incarcerated. Not after everything they had endured. But it was wrong that the children were paying for the sins of their parents.

It was Saturday evening when Hermione got a memo, in a writing she now recognised.

Occlumency at 5pm tomorrow. Meet me in the common room.

D.M

She looked up and caught Ginny’s gaze, who had joined them in their fruitless brainstorming session. Ginny arched her brow in question, and Hermione gave her a small nod back.

Draco Malfoy wanted to meet her again.

She didn’t know what to expect as she came down to the common room next evening. She had obsessed over the fact that he had called her to the common room this time, had dissected his very short note trying to find any subtext; she had found none.

Draco was leaning against the Hufflepuff table and motioned for her to follow him. He went up the stairs to what the eighth years had started calling “The Den”.

He beckoned her wordlessly into the DA room. Hermione walked in and was surprised to find the room looking very different from what it did during their weekly DA meetings.

“Why does it look different?” she wondered aloud.

“It may surprise you Granger, but Theo and I are quite good at charms. We have been adding enchantments to this room, so it changes according to needs of the person using it.

“How fascinating, you’re trying to make it like the room of requirement,” she said in amazement.

“We have a long way to go before we can get there, but yes, we are trying to get the room to sense a person’s basic intentions at the moment.”

Hermione took in her surroundings again. The room was still airy and well-lit, but the glass had frozen over just enough that they wouldn’t be visible from the outside.

“Go ahead,” he smirked, “give me your two cents.”

 “I know you Granger, you might be partly awed that we managed to pull this off but you’re also equally envious that you didn’t think of it first, and are probably making a mental list on how to improve it.”

“I... well… guilty” she accepted raising her hands in surrender.

“Don’t sweat it. We will manage just fine by ourselves. Can’t let the Golden Girl take all the fame.”

“Why do you do that?”, she asked.

“Do what?

“Talk down to me right after opening up to me about the smallest of things.”

“You really want to know?” he asked accusingly.

“That’s why I asked.”

He tilted his head and looked at her as if deciding something.

“Fine Granger. I will give you the reigns here. I can be one hundred percent honest, but it might break your mirage of me,” he challenged.

“I prefer honesty any day”, she said stubbornly.

He smiled now.

“Your choice. I am annoying you Granger because smart as you might be, like Potter, you wear your emotions on your sleeve. You won’t be able to control your mind till you learn to control your emotions. Anger is the easiest to control. I want you to go into our sessions angry, so you channel it when I enter your mind and you subconsciously protect yourself from revealing any memories that might be more – private.

Hermione was now floored. Not only was that ingenious, what he had said was true. She had turned up to their first meeting with her head all over the place, and had definitely not wanted him to see what she had been thinking. She recalled his words explaining he’d accessed a memory from her childhood to protect her.

“Wait. Is that why you kissed me? To distract me?”

“No. That was not my intention. That… was a mistake.”

“Oh,” deflated Hermione.

“I don’t mean a mistake because I regretted it. It was a mistake because I crossed a line when you were obviously vulnerable. And that is why we are here,” he said motioning to the room, “so you feel safe.”

“Why did you kiss me?” she asked persisting. She needed to know. Both she and Ginny thought it was better to clear the air.

“Remember, you just promised complete honesty.”

He sighed heavily.

“I hurt you. I know it wasn’t intentional, but fuck Granger I saw you almost die in front of me and ever since I have this overwhelming need to make sure you’re okay. And when I saw you crying, I just wanted to kiss those tears away, and I did. But like I said, I crossed a line when I shouldn’t have. And it won’t happen again.”

“Why – she started, but he cut her off immediately.

“That is all I’m willing to share right now. Now let’s start today’s session, if you’re ready.”

Their second session was much better. Malfoy asked her to channel her anger first. He asked her to fixate on a particularly hateful memory. Something that had made her consumed by anger. She showed Malfoy the memory of her trapping Rita Skeeter in a jar.” He laughed out aloud and Hermione was once again hit by how weird it was to see Slytherins actually laugh. While Theos laughter had melted her, Malfoy’s spread a warmth deep in her soul, igniting a feeling she was not ready to confront.

He didn’t try to access her mind again, making her go through mental exercises. He gave her an arythmancy problem and while she tried to solve it in her head, he kept distracting her by talking loudly. Then, he made her recite all the potions ingredients for felix felices while he proceeded to recite all the ingredients for amortentia. He kept pestering her and bothering her while she tried to keep her mind on track. Hermione was now positively fuming. Knowing he was being intentionally annoying did not matter.

“Riled up enough Granger?” he asked.

“You have no idea,” she growled back.

“Good,” he said “now sit down here on this pouf, close your eyes and let go of the anger.”

Hermione did as he said but she was just so infuriated that she was finding it hard to concentrate.

“C’mon Granger, let go of the anger.”

 She only ‘hmphed’.

“Imagine you’re holding a balloon Granger,” he said patiently. “A deflated balloon. Now pour your anger in it like you would blow air. Fill it up with all the annoyance, all the impatience, all the frustration.”

Hermione’s balloon was getting pretty big.

“Once you’ve filled it up as much as you can - let it go.”

Hermione let go of the tether to the balloon. As soon as she did, she felt much lighter, her mind felt calmer. She felt a very gentle probing against her mind, but she was able to hold her own.

“Very good girl,” he breathed.

Hermione turned a solid red at his words.

He correctly deduced how his words affected her because his expression turned from untroubled to positively amused.

Clearing his throat, he said with his half-smirk, “Next week we will be targeting embarrassment. You might want to keep a few memories ready.”

‘Jerk’, thought Hermione. He is definitely doing this on purpose.

But Malfoy was carrying on.

“I am giving you a little homework. When you’re feeling overwhelmed, I want you to think of a place, real or imaginary, that can be a neutral ground for you, kind of like a safe space for your mind. As long as you are in that space no one should be able to see anything but that place if they try to enter your mind.”

He turned to leave, but before he could she called out, “Thank you, Malfoy.”

He turned around surprised.

“Thank you for helping me”

“You have nothing to thank me for Granger,” he said slipping out quietly.