Fated Lovers

“Anyway…”, he said, “I finally lost that interest at the end of our fifth year.”

Those words lingered in Hermione’s mind. The realisation that Draco Malfoy had in fact been interested in her, was something she never expected to even think. Now, her mind was a complete mess, because she wasn’t sure what her actual feelings were, or how she saw Malfoy. Was she okay with him being her friend? Did she want something more? She couldn’t accept the idea that thinking about Malfoy with any other woman disturbed her and made her feel a type of jealousy she hadn’t felt before. 
She had been jealous of Lavender and Ron, but this type of jealousy was different. It was like a part of her was frightened to lose Malfoy, because she genuinely enjoyed the time they got to spend together. It wasn’t just that, on many occasions she had found herself staring at him, without a reason, like someone who enjoys a beautiful sight. He was attractive, to a degree that Hermione couldn’t grasp. Not only attractive, but he was also elegant, gentlemanly, interesting, and… fun to be with.

There was something about that exchange of words, thoughts, opinions, that made Hermione unable to detach herself from Malfoy. It was something she had never experienced before, with anyone. 

Victor Krum found pleasure in hearing Hermione talk about historical facts or reading out loud, but he never commented on those topics or exchanged opinions with her. Cormac McLaggen had been just interested in making out, so he wouldn’t even spare a minute for listening to Hermione talk about something he regarded as ‘boring’. And Ron, well, he was always the type of man who thought reading was a waste of time, and Hermione’s intelligence was nothing more than a help for him and Harry to get through Hogwarts without failing exams.

Draco Malfoy was completely different. He was interested in books, he admired knowledge, and he was also intelligent as well. He wouldn’t sit and listen to her rambling about historical facts, he would engage in active conversation and mention some other interesting clues. He wouldn’t sit and hear her talking about the Muggle world, he would ask questions, try to understand the meaning of each thing and their functioning, and mostly, he would remember every single detail she mentioned. He was different, and she liked that. Hermione realised this ‘friendship’ was not a friendship at all, and that sooner than later she would have to face the fact that she was falling in love with Draco Malfoy.

Draco had a dream. He dreamed Granger in the arms of Weasley and it made him sick. ‘You and I, Draco, we’re not meant for each other’, she said while the weasel’s arms tightened around her waist. Draco was disgusted and at the same time, jealous. A part of him wanted to push away that sensation, but it was impossible, it lingered in his mind. 

He laid down in bed, looking at a dot in the ceiling. He tended to do this thing, to imagine situations and try to over analyse his own reactions. In this case, the situations were all related to Granger. The image of her and Weasley triggered jealousy, the memory of her and Victor Krum, it was even worse, envy mixed with sadness. The mere idea of her wrapped around McLaggen’s sticky fingers just made him want to vomit. 

He wondered what he liked about her, that he couldn’t find in someone else. Was it her beauty? Her intellect? Her way of treating him like he wasn’t anything special?

Draco was used to being the centre of attention, ever since he began attending Hogwarts, he was just, popular. He was a wealthy slytherin and that was enough to capture anyone’s attention. He had no trouble making friends, and each year he would get at least two love letters from different students, confessing their feelings of admiration and lust. But Granger never saw him that way. She never admired his bloodline, his wealth or his popularity. She saw him as a mere rival in grades, if that accounted as some sort of admiration. She never tried to get his attention, hell, she would even try to go unnoticed by him, and that was something Draco had never experienced. Being normal wasn’t his reality, but he liked it. 

Hermione Granger was a rare sight, but one that he enjoyed. Her messy curls falling on her shoulders while she was absorbed in a reading, the way she didn’t try to hide the bags under her eyes after a long session of study. The clothes she usually wore when she wasn’t wearing a robe, so casual and muggle-ish. Her pink sweaters, her grey cardigans, her worn off jeans which looked like they were about to rip apart. She was different from anything he knew, and maybe that was the reason why he found her that intriguing. 

That day, both of them made a single decision. They would both declare their feelings toward each other, because if that sentiment kept growing, it would be a mess. Draco left the common room determined to talk to Granger and explain that, if they continued being this close, he would be even more confused than he already was. Hermione walked along the hallways knowing that she was already way into Malfoy, and their continuous friendly exchanges were only deepening that connection to him.
They looked for each other around the castle all day, but their paths didn’t cross. 

Hermione spent her afternoon using Ginny as a psychologist, who had already self-proclaimed herself their number one shipper. She had asked her straightforwardly, “Mione, do you actually like him?”, and when Hermione tried to avoid the question or think of an excuse not to answer it, she said “Well, that means you do.”

Draco had gone through his day in automatic mode, half-listening to Blaise talking about the new girl he liked, and Theodore wondering why Pansy wasn’t sitting with them today. He didn’t even bother to explain what happened with Parkinson, he was not in the mood for it.

“Mate!”, said Nott once they were alone. “You’ve been ignoring me all day, are you alright?”
Draco nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Is it because of Granger?”, Nott asked. Draco was shocked, he didn’t think his friend would come up with her name out of everything. He stared at Theodore with a confused look. “Yeah, that is”, Theodore smiled, proud of making the correct assumption.
“Shut up”, mumbled Draco, opening his book. 
Theodore Nott looked at the cover of the book, Mansfield Park by Jane Austen. He feigned a gag, “Austen… again? You’re so bloody sentimental.”
“Excuse me?” asked Draco, offended. “Austen is a great author.”
“She recommended it, didn’t she?”, inquired Nott with a huge grin.
“Yes, but that’s not the point. I’ve been reading Austen for years.”

Theodore Nott took out his wand and casted a Muffiato. He became serious, and looked at Draco with the eyes and the posture of an auror in a high degree interrogation. “Draco, mate… I’m gonna be quite straightforward now and I expect you to be one hundred percent honest with me.”, he began. “I consider you my best friend, and I believe I am your best friend too, even if you deny it.”

Malfoy just stared at him annoyed, like waiting for whatever stupid thing he was going to say.
“Did you bang Granger already?”, asked Nott.
Draco sighed. “Bloody hell, Theo, you’re obnoxious.”
“Okay buddy, okay. I’ll be gentle. Did you finally realise that you like her?”, Nott reformulated his question. “And I mean like, as in physically and emotionally like her…”
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “You’re not getting a word from me.”
“You do!”, he exclaimed. “I knew it! Pansy was getting all jealous and shit and Blaise said it was impossible for someone like you to like a mudblood, but I knew I was right. You like her, and she likes you too.”
“She doesn’t…”, said Malfoy incredulously. 
“Yes she does.”, argued his friend. “Mate, you’re fucking brilliant. You’re a gentleman, handsome, wealthy and intelligent. Of course she likes you back.”
Draco doubted for a few seconds then he said once more, “She doesn’t.”, and seeing his friend's confused expression, he explained to him about his situation with Granger.

“So, it was supposed to be fake, anything between you two.”, tried to understand Nott. “And, you fell for her like an idiot.”
Draco nodded. “I guess that sums it up quite well.”
“And you’re telling me you feel a connection between you two..”, continued Nott.

“Yes, but maybe it’s my imagination.”, said Draco. “I even dreamed of her and Weasley and woke up with the worst humour.”
Theo chuckled. “Then you must talk to her. Tell her how you feel, I mean, you’re no worse than the redhead cheater… If I were Granger I’d blow you.”
“For Merlin’s sake!”, Draco exclaimed. 
“Okay okay, ‘date’ you.”

That night, Hermione received an owl. ‘Meet me in Herbology Classroom - DM’

Hermione felt her stomach twisting from anxiety, she dressed up and made sure her hair looked alright before leaving the room. She walked along the empty hallways, making her way up to the Greenhouse Three, looking around to avoid any prefects.
As she entered the classroom, she walked among the plants and herbs, looking with curiosity at the second graders' works. Lovely mandrakes were planted and Hermione remembered quite vividly how shocked they all felt the first time they had to change a mandrake from a small to a medium sized pot. 

She was about to sit and wait for Malfoy, but something caught her attention. There was something covered with a cloth. It was big, almost the size of a door. Hermione got closer and looked around before uncovering the thing. A mirror, but not any mirror. The Erised Mirror was placed right in front of her.  She avoided her reflection, at least for a few seconds, until she heard something. She looked at the mirror and saw herself, same as she was, but behind her it was Draco Malfoy. She turned around and saw him standing there, right where the mirror placed him. Thank god, her vision was not of her and Malfoy, she wasn’t that crazy yet.

The real Draco Malfoy looked completely shocked at his reflection and as she looked back at hers, she saw the image of them both kissing. Were they looking at the same thing? She couldn’t figure it out. He was blushing and so was she. The Erised Mirror, known as the mirror of desires, was known for showing in a person’s reflection their own deepest and most desperate desires. Both Hermione and Draco were looking at the same reflection, an image of them hugging and kissing each other, completely and utterly in love, and none of them knew the other was looking at the same thing.

“Malfoy”, whispered Hermione. “Why did you invite me here?”
Draco was silent. “I’m wondering the same thing. You sent me an owl.”
They looked at each other in confusion. He handed her a piece of parchment which read ‘Meet me in Herbology Classroom - HG.’

They had been tricked by someone and they didn’t know who, but now they were standing there alone, holding on to one backed up confession that now, it was the perfect moment to let free, so they were both feeling like something was off. They looked at each other, and a silence grew between them. 

“I wanted to tell you something.” Hermione broke the silence. Draco just looked at her, his eyes sometimes looking at the reflection that was still on the mirror. “Go ahead.”, he complied.

She took a deep breath, gathering all the courage she could in such a brief moment, and then opened her mouth. “I think I fancy you.” Draco smiled. “Don’t laugh at me, you bloody idiot!”, she yelled.
“I’m not laughing, I’m smiling.”, he replied. 
“Don’t.”, she quickly said. “I already know I’m a bushy haired nerdy witch and a gryffindor and more than anything, a mudblood. I just needed to say it, there’s no need to reject me.” 
Draco chuckled at her nervousness. “You forgot to mention you’re incredibly stubborn, and… quite stupid when it comes to this kind of thing.”
“What?”, Hermione was taken aback. 
“What I’m trying to say, Granger.”, he began, “Is that your annoying personality is quite attractive, and I myself find it incredibly irresistible.”
Hermione Granger was as red as a bloody tomato, and her expression kept being the one of complete shock and confusion. “What?”, she asked again. 
“Brightest witch of our age has zero comprehension when it comes to this matter.”, he replied smiling. “You’re clueless.”
“Moron”, she said bitterly. 

Malfoy got closer and rested his hand on her back. “You were saying… You fancy me.” She was entirely red, but he continued. “And I was saying, so do I.”
Hermione couldn’t look him in the eyes, she was way too nervous to do so. “Are you being serious or just making fun of me?”
“I’ve never been more serious in my entire life, Granger.”

She was still, out of breath trying to process his words. “Why?”, she asked.
“Maybe because you’re so much more than you think. You’re not only the most intelligent witch I’ve ever met. You’re a witty, funny, and more than anything, beautiful woman.”

Hermione Granger felt her heart stop. There was never a moment in which someone had said something that lovely with that degree of honesty. Draco Malfoy was indeed, not the young bully boy she used to despise back in the old years. He was not a know-it-all proud rich boy from Slytherin whose only interest was making fun of others, he was a man, an emotionally available and intelligent man who was actually interested in her.
His hand was fixed on her back, his fingers rubbing her like someone who tries to comfort a crying friend. “So…”, she began, “What are we going to do?”
He looked at her and smiled. “Well. We could stop pretending.”
Hermione was silent. “You mean, to stop pretending and..?”
Draco grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. “I mean stop pretending and just, be.”

Their lips were inches away and they were both reddened at the sudden closeness. Hermione decided at that moment that she wasn’t going to let Malfoy control her own senses, she would take the leash of her own feelings. Her hand caressed the back of his neck, and Draco felt his whole body shiver at her touch. Suddenly, she pulled him into a kiss.

She closed her eyes in complete surrender. There was a sense of peace, of finally being able to let her feelings out, let them free. Just be, he had said. Now she didn’t care about their houses, their friends, about Ron or Pansy. They were just them, being.

Draco deepened the kiss, his arms hugging her. He felt accomplished, lighter, like the weight of the world was suddenly gone. She tasted exactly like the amortentia he had smelled in fifth year. A sweet mixture of vanilla, caramel and coffee. He hugged her like he was afraid he’d wake up from the beautiful dream, like their kiss was nothing more than a reflection on the Erised mirror that could soon vanish forever. Her arms and hands were round his neck, she kept caressing his hair, and now, he didn’t care about how messed it would look afterwards.

When they finally pulled away, Hermione looked him in the eyes. There was a connection they weren’t expecting, a sense of belonging, of finally meeting the right one. He smiled, breathless. “Merlin’s sake, Granger.”, he said, “You’ll be the death of me.”

She sighed, smiling back at him. “Still calling me by my last name?”
He smirked. “Tell me you hate it and I’ll stop.”
“Never, Malfoy.”, she placed a small peck on his lips and left the classroom.