Chapter 65
Draco had been so sure, so confident that Hermione, the bright and bushy-haired girl with a Muggle-born background, would be sorted into Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat had hovered over her head for what seemed like an eternity before calling out “Slytherin!” It was a shock to everyone, but Draco remembered the instant spark of curiosity and excitement he had felt.
But what if she had been sorted into Gryffindor? The thought gnawed at him, and he closed his eyes, imagining the scene.
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Hermione Granger stood proudly among the Gryffindors, her face alight with the unbridled joy of belonging. Her robes, marked with the vibrant red and gold of Gryffindor. She would have thrived in the lion's den, surrounded by friends who shared her values of bravery, loyalty, and justice. She would have been friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, her intellect and compassion shining brightly in their midst.
Draco could see it vividly: Hermione laughing freely with her friends, her eyes sparkling with kindness and determination. She would have been their beacon, the brightest witch of her age, untouched by the darker influences of Slytherin.
And what about him? Draco felt a pang of regret as he imagined their interactions. Would he have tormented her, driven by his father's pure-blood ideals and the pressure to uphold the Malfoy name? Or would her inherent goodness have softened his edges, made him question the prejudices instilled in him from birth?
The more he thought about it, the more he realized he would still be drawn to her. There was something irresistible about Hermione's fierce intelligence and unwavering spirit. She was a challenge, a puzzle he wanted to solve, and no amount of house rivalry could change that.
If she had been sorted into Gryffindor, he would have watched her from afar, his feelings masked by cruel words and sneers. But in the quiet moments, away from prying eyes, he would have admired her. Perhaps, in another world, he might have approached her differently. He might have sought her out in the library, debated her on spell theory, and slowly, begrudgingly, earned her respect.
Draco sighed. Sorting her into Slytherin had forced her to adapt, to become cunning and ruthless to survive. Their arrangement had twisted her, molding her into someone who could navigate the dangerous waters of Slytherin politics. But deep down, he knew the goodness was still there, buried beneath layers of necessity and self-preservation.
His thoughts drifted to the scars that threatened her once smooth skin. The first time he had seen them, the rage that had boiled within him was unlike anything he had ever felt. He had wanted to be the only one to leave a mark on her, to be the singular force that shaped her. The thought of others marking her made his blood boil.
He remembered the way she had flinched when he touched the jagged wound on her back caused by the malicious curse of a Slytherin sixth year. The following week that sixth year was found in the Forbidden Forest with a similar wound. Hermione never flinched away from his again. It was a reminder of how far she had fallen from the bright-eyed girl who had first stepped into Hogwarts. His arrangement with her had stolen something pure and good, replacing it with a hardness that both intrigued and excited him.
Would her goodness have rubbed off on him if she had been in Gryffindor? The idea was almost laughable, but Draco allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. He imagined a world where he was kinder, more understanding. Where Hermione's moral compass guided him towards something better.
He had to acknowledge that their relationship had brought out the darkness in both of them, but he couldn’t shake the belief that there was a part of her that still believed in goodness and fairness.
Could that part of her ever influence him? Draco wasn’t sure, but maybe, just maybe, Hermione Granger’s unwavering spirit could still touch his heart, even if only in the smallest of ways.
Draco allowed himself to dream of a different future, one where the lines between Gryffindor and Slytherin blurred, and where he and Hermione might find a way to be something more than what they are.