Draco wasn’t sure what to do with himself now that the war had ended. He had classes to attend, but with that being the only thing occupying his time, he often found himself feeling aimless. He considered reaching out to his old friends, but everything had changed—no one was ever around, and he was a bit frightened of confronting the fallout. They all lived in a high-tension environment now, exchanging cold "hellos" and disinterested "how are you’s."
Draco had fallen into a semi-comfortable routine. He would go straight to his dorm, avoiding the common room, which remained barren except for the occasional group of freshmen. After collapsing on his bed, he would often sleep for a few hours. Despite the mundanity of his day, it never failed to exhaust him. When he finally woke up, he would tackle his schoolwork, finishing that in a few hours—unless a bitter professor assigned him a two-foot essay for being disruptive in class.
The most enjoyable part of his day came after that, when he would head down to the kitchen. He had become quite friendly with the house elves recently and would make himself something for dinner before taking it back to his room. There, he would eat while reading; his latest book had been about Pygmy Puffs, specifically their burrowing habits. Afterward, he would shower and go to bed by 9 PM.
If his younger self could see how pathetic his life had become, he would probably have asked the Dark Lord to torture him to death. Yet, he had to admit, it was at least better than being locked up in Azkaban with his father. Recently, boredom had begun to set in, leading him back to an old hobby: stalking Hermione Granger. He shuddered at the thought of his inexplicable obsession with her, but he couldn't deny himself this harmless pastime. He even managed to delude himself into thinking that maybe she would notice him and offer her friendship—just as she did with everyone else. Deep down, however, he knew that could never happen, though the last bit of hope fluttered in his chest.
What ultimately crushed that hope was the day he saw her in the library. He had heard that Granger and Weasley were together now, but despite following her around like a love-struck fool, he had never witnessed them together until that very day. As he dragged himself back to his dorm, he considered all the things he could do with his newfound free time—perhaps crocheting jumpers would be a good look for him.
Suddenly, he heard quick footsteps behind him. He turned his head, surprised to find the source of his turmoil standing behind him, looking just as surprised. At what, he wasn't quite sure, since she had walked out into the hallway. Just when he thought she might say something, she directed her attention to another girl passing by, someone who seemed familiar but whose name he couldn’t recall. He was close enough to eavesdrop but realized he was already a big enough creep without lingering to listen to Granger’s conversation. Just as he began to walk away, he heard, “Malfoy!” Granger was now turned towards him again, a flash of panic in her eyes before she turned on her normal, cheerful face again.
“I want to invite you too, your whole house I mean, not just the two of you of course,” she rambled, gaze flitting between him and the other girl.
The blonde stared at Granger with a quizzical look before finally speaking, “ Are you sure you want us to come, I’m not too sure the rest of your house would be too appreciative of that…”.
“Well we’re all adults this year, aren’t we? I just figure it would be a little senseless to keep on with some silly school rivalry, but I understand if you don’t want to come,” Granger replies, looking a little disappointed at being shot down so quickly. Draco thought maybe he should speak up now, tell her he would be coming, but he wasn’t sure that was the best idea. Despite his longing to accept Granger’s invitation, he knew better than to go to one of those parties. Although she might think otherwise, Granger’s friends certainly did not harbor the same forgiving attitude.
“Alright, I’ll talk to a few of the others and think it through,” the blonde stated, interrupting his thoughts. Granger turned to her, clearly surprised that she had agreed. The blonde (god, for the life of him he couldn’t remember her name) didn’t look very excited to accept, but Draco figured that the loneliness had been getting to all of them.
“And you, Malfoy?” Granger questioned suddenly, turning her expectant eyes back to him. The blonde turned to stare at him as well as if daring him to take the invitation. He could feel the tips of his ears burn as he simply cleared his throat and glanced away from them, not sure what to say.
“Well, I’ll have to check my schedule, but I might be able to make it,” He said finally, eliciting a scoff from the blonde as if she knew how uneventful his evenings were (of course she did, who didn’t). Granger’s mouth turned up slightly before she nodded sharply and marched back in the direction she came. The blonde gave him a glance before scurrying away as well, likely to tell her friends about this new development. Draco was left feeling a little dumbstruck if he was to be truthful, while it had never even crossed his mind to reject her invitation, it was only now dawning on him how torturous this party could be. He slowly made his way back to the common room, which he found, was surprisingly full. Pansy and the blonde were seated on the sofa in front of the fireplace, huddled together as if scheming something. They glanced up at him as he walked in, and Pansy’s mouth tilted up into a soft smirk.
“Well, hello Draco,” she said, now fully turned to face him, her body stretching over the back of the sofa like a cat on its perch. Draco simply nodded at her, hoping to stop her next remark.
“Daphne was just telling me about your run-in with Granger, what did you make of it?” She continued to probe, her tone so uninterested that no one else would be able to catch onto what she was implying. Draco wanted to curse her for being so cruel and himself for ever being so obvious.
“I thought it was pretty odd,” he said, not wanting to give her what she wanted, “ are you going to now?”
“Oh, you know, I’ve been itching to go to a party for ages, and this is one, no matter who’s throwing it, isn’t it?” She answered, her voice light and airy, but her gaze was heavy as she stared at him, as if trying to push him over the edge.
“I suppose,” He replied simply, being careful to not give away too much, not that there wasn’t anything she didn’t know.
Draco could tell Pansy was getting impatient as she rolled her eyes, finally asking him outright, “ So you’re going then right? We both know you would never-“
“ Fuck off, Pansy,” Draco growled, not expecting her to broach the topic so openly. Daphne (he knew her name now), was looking between the two of them with a confused look on her face, thankfully she hadn’t caught on.
“Hey, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Pansy exclaimed, clearly amused by him, “I was just going to graciously offer you an invitation to come with me and Daphne, just bring a friend, yeah? It’ll look a little too sad if you show up with just us,”.
Draco rolled his eyes at her before stalking off to his room, glancing back to see that she was still watching him, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
Hermione could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she made her way back to the library, still on a high from her earlier conversation. God, she was such an idiot, what compelled her to invite Draco Malfoy to a party of all things? A party that all her friends would be at too, shit, now she was going to have to tell Harry and Ron about this too. And accelerate her breaking-up-with-Ron plans as well. She dropped her head into her hands and groaned, wishing she still had her time-turner so she could go back and shoot herself in the leg before she was able to walk out of the library. Sure, she had always planned on approaching Malfoy eventually but she never planned on doing it like this. She was met with Harry and Ron’s confused gaze as she finally made her way back to their table.
“What was that all about Hermione?” Harry questioned, rightfully confused at her sudden departure.
“Oh, just forgot to ask Mcgonagal something is all,” she lied easily, a little bit too familiar with this.
Ron chuckled and playfully said, “Of course, would expect nothing less of you, Hermione,”. She attempted to give him a strained smile as she gathered her things into her bag.
“Ron, can I speak with you for a minute?”
“Sure? See you tonight Harry,” He replied, tilting his head to the side and slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“Bye Harry!” Hermione said, giving him a small wave as she followed Ron into a different section of the library. Harry nodded at them before going back to his potions essay.
“So what did you want to talk about? Is everything okay?” Ron questioned, gazing down at her with a look of concern.
“Um, yes, I think that’ll be good for the both of us actually,” Hermione stopped to take a breath, “ Ron, I think we should break up, we gave it a chance, multiple, actually, and I just don’t think its working,”.
Ron let out a sigh of relief, before grinning down at her, “Thank god, I’ve been trying to figure out a way to say something for ages now, I’m glad you said something.”
They both exchanged a smile, glad they were finally released from the chains of awkwardness, and things could go back to the way they had been.
“Firewhiskey, beer, cups, crisps, what are we missing?” Hermione called out to Ginny, who had been rummaging through the kitchen for quite some time now.
“Who even eats the food we put out anyway?” She called back, poking her head out from behind the wall.
“That may be true, but we should still make an effort to be somewhat hospitable,” Hermione replied, frowning down at their pitiful spread of snacks and desserts. After a few beats, Ginny remerged, balancing an array of finger foods, with two bottles of nicer liquor tucked under her arms.
“Alright then, this should be enough, right?” She said, voice muffled by the mountain in front of her.
Hermione quickly grabbed a few things and deposited them on the table, “ It should suffice, speaking of, I have something I need to tell you and the boys.”
“What is it?” Ginny asked as she stuffed a handful of ruffles into her mouth.
Hermione turned away from her and began fiddling with the snack table, “I’ve invited some others to come to this part as well, given that it is supposed to be inclusive to all the houses.” She wasn’t quite sure how Ginny would react, but if this went badly she could only imagine how badly it would go with Ron and Harry. She chanced a glance at Ginny, who was still staring at her with a look of confusion.
“What? We already invited the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, who else…” Ginny started, before her eyes blew wide with realization, “Oh Merlin, tell me you didn’t.”
Hermione grimaced before giving her a short nod, still too nervous to look directly at her.
“What were you thinking Hermione? This could end very badly,” Ginny warned, and Hermione sighed, she knew she was right, but it had just been too much for too long, watching each other from the shadows, waiting for a time that was never going to come, and she was sick of it. She was done living her life for others and abiding by the standards others had set for her.
“I just thought…how long can we keep with the boundaries that got us to this point in the first place?” She asked, turning to look Ginny directly in the eyes, hoping she would understand what she was trying to say, “We’ve been on the other side of this whole, twisted, ordeal, and as horrible as they might’ve been, I think it’s more important to end this cycle.”
Ginny’s eyes softened and she took one of Hermione’s hands, “Alright, alright, I understand. I’ll help you talk to the boys, I don’t think they’ll be too upset, they’re adults.”
Hermione grinned back at her, hoping the night might not be as bad as she initially thought.
Draco felt like he might throw up as he walked in through the entrance to the Gryffindor tower. Whatever part of him had found the confidence to accept Granger’s invitation was long gone now, and all that was left were the same nerves that had kept him in the shadows all of these years. He stepped into the Gryffindor common room, his heart pounding harder with every step. The room's warmth was immediate—golden light flickered from the fireplace, casting a glow over the red and gold furnishings. A chatter filled the room, but barely noticeable through the music that pounded from somewhere, making it hard for him to focus on any one thing. As they made their way further into the room, people would pause and glance over at them, their surprise obvious. However, no one sneered or hurled insults to their faces, which was a great improvement since their last social appearance. Draco could feel himself shrinking away, hiding himself further within their little group. It had been so long since he had gone out aside from classes that he had forgotten what it felt like to have all eyes on him.
Then suddenly Granger stepped out through the crowd, immediately drawing everyone's attention to her despite all of the chaos. She had that effect on her, even before she was pronounced a war heroine or “The Brightest Witch of Her Age”. When she spoke, people listened, radiating confidence and something akin to power, but more humble than that. This had only increased tenfold as they aged and she became more notable, and others began noticing how beautiful she was. It angered Draco to no extent, he had always known how extraordinary she was, inside and out, but one day every other bastard in the school seemed to know it too.
As she stood before them, Draco swore his heart had stopped in his chest. He was used to seeing her in the school uniform or muggle clothing, but now she was wearing a flowy red tank top, cut tantalizingly deep, and a black skirt so little that Draco wasn’t sure if it could even count as one. He swallowed thickly, his mind racing with thoughts that would surely have him at the wrong end of her wand again. She lifted her arm to wave at them, causing the oversized leather jacket draped over her shoulder to slip down a little.
“Hello, I’m glad you all could make it,” Granger said cheerfully, her eyes scanning through them, catching on his for half a second too long. Had she not wanted him to come? He should’ve known that she was only trying to be polite.
Potter, Weasley, and the girl Weasley appeared behind her, looking a little less than pleased by the Slytherins' presence.
Draco shifted uncomfortably under Potter’s piercing gaze, though he refused to look away, he was never one to shy from a challenge.
“Well,” Granger said brightly, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness. “Come on, then. Everyone’s just mingling for now. Make yourselves at home.”
As if that were possible. Draco nodded stiffly, following Blaise and Pansy deeper into the room. He could feel the weight of everyone’s stares, but he kept his focus ahead, resisting the urge to glance back at her.
The Slytherins gravitated toward the corner of the room, where the music wasn’t quite as loud, and Draco found himself lingering near the edge of the group. He caught sight of Granger again as she moved through the crowd, greeting people and offering polite smiles.
For a moment, she turned her head, and their eyes met again. She paused, just briefly, before continuing as if nothing had happened. Draco’s stomach twisted, but he forced himself to look away. He wasn’t going to read into it.
“Merlin, this is unbearable,” Pansy muttered, pulling him out of his thoughts. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “I don’t know how you convinced me to come here, Blaise.”
“You’re the one who insisted we needed to socialize more,” Blaise replied smoothly, sipping from a glass he’d swiped from a passing table. “And I, for one, am enjoying myself.”
Pansy rolled her eyes, but before she could retort, Ginny Weasley appeared, her usual fiery energy cutting through the tension. Potter was following closely behind her, his arm draped over her shoulders.
“Hey guys,” Ginny said, hands on her hips. “We need to do something fun. How about a game?”
“A game?” Pansy raised an eyebrow. “What are we, first years?”
“Oh, come on,” Ginny said, undeterred. “It’s a party. Lighten up a bit.”
Granger reappeared at that moment, a curious look on her face. “What kind of game?”
“Something to break the ice,” Ginny said. “Truth or Dare, maybe?”
“That’s so childish,” Weasley groaned from the sofa, but Ginny shot him a glare.
“Fine, we’ll make it more interesting,” Daphne said, a sly smile spreading across her face. “How about Seven Minutes in Heaven? I’ve always wanted to play.”
Granger’s mouth tilted up in amusement, glancing around at her friends.
Ginny’s grin widened. “I think it’s a brilliant idea.”
“I’ll go first then I suppose,” said Ginny, after no one else moved for the empty fire whiskey bottle. They had all moved into someone’s dorms - Draco suspected they were Weasley and Potter’s, given the inane amount of Chudley Cannon gear - and had formed a circle around the bottle. She leaned forward and twisted the bottle in a circle until it was pointing straight back at Harry. She turned to him with a devilish grin, a glint of mischief in her eyes.
“Well it looks like its you and me, Potter,” Ginny smirked, her voice low and sultry. Ron made a face of disgust, but Potter looked all too happy to oblige, as he grabbed her hand and led her into the closet.
“Isn’t that against the rules?” said Theo, his eyes trailing them as they disappeared behind the door.
Hermione simply shrugged and answered, “ I suppose technically we never said it had to be random, just whoever the bottle is pointing to.”
A timer was automatically set for seven minutes, and thankfully, Draco thought to himself, they seemed to have enough sense to set silencing charms.
Draco never thought that two goody-two-shoes would so brazenly break the rules, and for such a raunchy purpose on top of that, or that the rest of their little group would be so nonchalant about it. This new side of them was quite enlightening, especially on Granger. He had thought he knew her fairly well, or as well as one would after watching a person for seven years. But tonight she was a freer version of herself, no longer constricted by impending wars or potions essays.
He listened as everyone else faded into a quiet chatter, waiting for the timer to go off. He could hear Theo and Lovegood discussing some new flavor of sugar quill Honeydukes had been released, sitting awfully close to one another. Weasley and Pansy were bickering about something again, their voices raised above everyone else’s. As he sat there in a sea of whispers and giggles, he realized this was what he had missed most about his before the war and Voldemort. Being able to fade away into the background of their gatherings, rather than being in the forefront. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall, still cradling a beer in his hands, finally feeling a little bit of peace after who knows how long.
Suddenly the timer blared, ripping him out of his solitude and back into reality. He opened his eyes a sliver and caught Granger’s. She was blatantly staring at him now, and Draco could feel his cheeks start to flush. She had thrown aside her jacket and was down to that little skirt and tank top. Her lips tilted up, almost into a smirk, and she didn’t tear her eyes from him even as she announced that it was her turn to spin now. It was Draco who had looked away first, his nerves much too high to hold his ground any longer. He told himself for what felt like the hundredth time that day that that must have been her version of glare, and she was just planning his demise. He couldn’t afford to get caught up in fantasies that were never happening.
Once Harry and Ginny were situated within the circle once again, looking disgustingly happy, Hermione reached over for the bottle and spun it hard. He wasn’t sure how he’d control himself when she went into that closet with whatever idiot it landed on, but it's not like he could storm up and stop her, she wasn’t his to stop. He watched on with anticipation as it spun around and around and around before finally slowing down, anxiety gripping him as he trailed his eyes down the end of the bottle, past the smudged label, down the neck, all the way to…himself. The bottle was pointing at him. Suddenly his heart was pounding out of his chest and he went deaf to the whispers and gasps around them, only seeing Granger. To his surprise, she didn’t look the least bit fazed as she stood, ignoring her friends' protests.
“You coming, Malfoy?” She said, her warm gaze focused on him. He stood cautiously and followed her into the closet, pressing himself against one of the walls as the door slammed in on them.
Even though it was mostly dark, he could still see Granger in the light filtering in through the door. She watched him carefully as if trying to figure out everything he was thinking. He tried to keep his cool facade, not wanting the girl he was desperately in love with to see him dissolve into a puddle.
“I know, Malfoy,” Granger said suddenly, catching him off guard.
“Sorry, what?”
She inched closer.
“I know, about you, about us,” her voice was low now, as if letting him in on her most treasured secret.
Draco maintained eye contact, the only evidence of his inner panic was his fists clenching at his sides as he replied, “I’m not sure what you think you’ve seen, but you’re sorely mistaken, Granger,”.
At that, Granger simply smirked at him, her eyes crinkling with amusement.
“Oh? So it wasn’t you that followed me through the hallways all those times?” She said, her voice laced with softness, “Or it wasn’t you that was watching me like a hawk in every class together? Wasn’t it you every day in the library, two tables away? Tell me, Malfoy, did you think I would never notice you watching?”
Draco felt like the walls were closing in on him now, and he was thankful for the lack of light as his face flushed completely.
“Look, I never meant to hurt you, it wasn’t like that, I just-”
“It’s ok, I understand, I’ve been watching too,” Granger interrupted, now much closer to him than he remembered. His breath was coming out heavy, not quite sure what she was saying. His head felt big enough to explode from the meaning behind her words, not quite sure if he was willing to accept them.
She was still staring at him with those big, brown eyes, the color of the tea he liked to drink in the morning. He could feel whisps of her long curls brushing against his arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His nerves were on fire, his senses so heightened he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.
Granger was still inching closer to him until he could feel her soft breath against his face, their eyes still locked together. She slowly reached a hand up, gingerly placing her palm up against his cheek. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to push her away or lean into her touch. On one hand, this was fulfilling every fantasy of his since he was 11, but it was also so much all at once. When Granger invited him here, he wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wasn't this.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, ” She whispered, starting to pull her hand away, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him, their bodies flush against, his face buried in her soft curls, and his arms wrapped around her waist. He wasn’t sure what had come over him, but he knew that he couldn’t let her go, she was his entire world, and now she was finally letting him into it.
“Please don’t tell me this is a one-time thing, I don’t think I could stand it,” He said, lips brushing against her ear. He felt her stiffen in his arms for a split second before she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close.
“Never,” She said as she brushed a few strands of hair out of his face, pulling back just enough to look at his face, “ Whatever this is, whatever we are, it’s for life.”
That was all Draco needed to hear before he leaned forward and crushed his mouth into hers.
Hermione instantly melted into him, molding her body to fit into his, relishing in the groans that she drew from him. When she had spun the bottle to face him (a handy trick she had learned visiting Viktor in Bulgaria) she hadn’t been sure what to expect, or how Malfoy would react to her confrontation, but this was…she felt as if every desire, every longing stare over the past few years were all coming to a close right then, like a bone-dry jar being hit by a tsunami, yet it still wasn’t enough.
She pulled him closer, gripping his hair as he pushed her back into the wall, his hands slipping under her top to grip her waist. They pulled away for a few seconds before Malfoy buried his head into her shoulder, kissing and nipping his way up her neck, his hands slipping down her sides to grip her waist. She was enveloped in his clean, spicy scent as he moved up the side of her face, gathering her hair into his other hand and tugging on it in a way that had her sighing. She trailed her fingers through his soft curls, down the base of his neck, drawing a shudder from him in a way she knew only she was capable of - a fact she secretly took pleasure in.
Leaning her head back against the hard wall of the closet, her eyes fluttered closed, and she wished they could stay in this closet forever, the rest of the world would fade away. But soon, the timer would go off and they’d be plunged back into the real world, one where she and Malfoy would be forced back into the shadows of each other’s lives. However, that was something to worry about for another day.
For now, it was just her and Draco, in their own perfect, albeit a little screwed, world. As he pulled away from her slightly, so she could see his beautiful face, he smiled at her and Hermione felt her chest constrict. In all her days of watching, she had never seen him so happy, so content, and it filled her heart with a feeling she couldn’t quite place. So she simply smiled back at him, deciding that she would do anything, give up anyone to keep him smiling like that. All they needed was each other, and now that Hermione had him, she was going to make sure she never let go.