Pureblood Baby

The first time I realized how truly attractive Draco Malfoy was? The day I punched him in his beautiful stupid face our 3rd year.
The punch was fueled with anger. Anger at him and his friends for making fun of Buckbeak’s upcoming execution. Anger at the fact that when I saw them as we were making our way down to Hagrids I took in how handsome he really was. Chiseled jawline, piercing grey eyes, the mischievous half smirk always painted across his face, that white blonde hair swooped across his forehead begging fingers to be ran through it. “Damn it, Granger, get it together!” I thought to myself as I started yelling at them for being there and marched to deliver him a shot to that stupid beautiful face.
Ron and Harry thought it was bloody brilliant. I did too considering I’d never been one to encourage violence or confrontation without reason. It felt good but I also felt a little funny. I didn’t like how unsettled I felt realizing my attraction to Draco. I mean, he was Draco freaking Malfoy. His family were pure bloods who despised muggles and muggle born witches and wizards. They treated house elves with such hatred. They just… it could never… you get the picture. This realization would just have to be shoved deep inside a box and forgotten. Far bigger matters were at hand than a silly attraction. I mean, people can look attractive and there be no meaning to it. That’s just the logical answer, nothing deeper to it. Or so I thought.

***

The second time Draco and I had an encounter per se was in the library our fourth year. It was getting close to closing hours and I had been debating sneaking into the restricted section after hours. I needed to find some research for Harry about the Triwizard Tournament, heavens knows he wasn’t going to do it himself. At least like he should’ve. I was reaching up to get a book off of a particularly high shelf when I felt my skirt rise up at the motion. I had chosen to wear the traditional plaid skirt and knee high stockings. Not my usual outfit but with the Durmstrang boys wandering the halls this year I felt a bit cheeky. I felt a breeze against my upper thigh. The skirt was shorter than I had realized but not really bothering to fix it considering I was alone I continued to pull books off the shelf. That is, until I heard a sharp intake of breathe and I froze for a moment before lowering myself off my toes and turning around to face Draco freaking Malfoy. He was unbearably close I’d realized. Why was he so close? When did he get here? “Need some help there, Granger?” He asked, his voice huskier than I’d realized… or maybe because? No, absolutely not, there was no way. Was I imaging it or did I feel fingertips lightly graze my thigh? Goosebumps broke out on my skin. “What makes you think I need any assistance?” He chuckled “Forgive me but you appeared to be struggling on your tip toes with half your arse peaking out of that little skirt of yours.” I gaped back at him momentarily lost for words. Was I imagining it or was he looking at my mouth? I cleared my throat, as a blush creeped up my neck. “So sorry, I’m sure that was an unpleasant experience for you, Malfoy” I reached down to straighten my skirt. I tried to add a sneer to it but my stomach felt funny and my heart was trying to beat out of my chest. Malfoy leaning a bit closer until I was flush against the bookshelf and his chest was mere inches from my own. I hadn’t realized how tall he was becoming since we had never been this close before. “It wasn’t… terrible, Granger.” He whispered. I sucked in a sharp breath before he chuckled and turned on his heels leaving me with a crooked skirt and an erratic heart rate. I released the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and muttered to myself. “Gods Mione’ will you calm down? It’s just Draco Malfoy, you should not be having this reaction.” None the less, I couldn’t focus on what I had previously been doing. I collected the books I had found and headed for the common room to go submerge myself into the bottom of a freezing bath and stop thinking about Draco Malfoy.

***
(Draco’s POV)

I was a tad bit excited about the Yule ball tonight though I’d never be caught dead admitting it as I adjusted my robes in the mirror. Crabbe and Theo were waiting in the common room no doubt with Pansy in tow. She had been insistent I take her to the ball and I didn’t have a good enough excuse not to, not that she wasn’t pretty, she was just awfully annoying. Almost as annoying as Granger. I shook my head, I shouldn’t even be thinking about her. I pushed the pesky Gryfindor into the back of my mind and headed to meet my friends. We arrived before the huge crowds, all headed for some punch, Theo of course pulled a flask from this robes and wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Fancy a bit of firewhisky, Draco?” “Not yet, I’ll get some after it starts” Professor Filtwick was getting the music started and people were starting to dance. After a few minutes the room got noticeably quieter and I heard Pansy grumble next to me “how is it she actually looks… pretty?” Following her gaze I looked towards the top of the stairs and low and behold Hermione fucking Granger was standing at the top in a periwinkle blue dress that had a slight plunging neckline with her hair curled but tamed unlike the usual in a half updo and a small smile on her face. She was glowing, a blush to her cheeks. Everyone was staring, she looked… beautiful. I had managed to push her out of my mind for the most part after the library incident but here she was looking like that and it all came flooding back. My chest felt odd at the revelation, blood traveling downwards where it had no business being when thinking of her. I followed her gaze wondering who was making her smile like that, surely it was the Weaselbee but it wasn’t, it was that Durmstrang prat, Viktor. I realized I was staring at her for longer that I should’ve been when I heard Pansy whine next to me “Draco, come, let’s dance” I slowly tore my gaze away from Hermione and extended my hand towards Pansy, I sighed as she squealed and grabbed my hand dragging me towards the dance floor and away from the thoughts of Hermione fucking Granger.

( Back to Hermione’s POV! )

Fifth year was a rough year. I still excelled at my studies but it was hard to have your heart in it when You Know Who was back in the flesh and a class mate had been murdered and death eaters infiltrated the school. Ron and Harry were somber these days. It got even harder as we were still “children” in the eyes of the order. They had yet to acknowledge we had really stopped being children our third year when fighting Peter Pettigrew and helping Sirius escape Azkaban. School was horrid. We weren’t learning. Dolores was making sure of that. The pink loving bitch witch and her little army of “do gooders”. Imagine my irritation of spotting Draco Malfoy among the group of cronies as we snuck around for our DA meetings. The good thing about seeing him around was the fact that the irritation that surfaced from seeing him fueled me to have better focus on learning defensive spells. I’ll even let you in on a little secret not even Ginny knows. When thinking of happy memories for my patronus charm my mind wandered to my library encounter with Draco last year. We haven’t been alone like that since but my mind played scenarios from time to time but when everything happened fifth year in the department of mysteries and Sirius died by Bellatrix’s hand I knew for certain there could possibly never be a time when the Malfoy/Black family would ever do anything selfless. Any of them. Draco included. I told myself he would become just like Lucius. Cold. Sinister. No love for a mud blood like myself. That’s all
I’d ever be to him.

Sixth year. My heart broke in more ways than one. Dumbledore was dead. Death eaters had once again infiltrated the school. Murdered one of the most powerful wizards. Someone who Voldemort himself feared. I no longer feared saying his name. He would kill us either way. Another way my heart broke and one that quite unsettled me was… Draco. He had looked so pale that year. Tortured. Alone. Scared. And my heart couldn’t help but ache for him. I know he assisted in Dumbledore’s murder and he had always been cruel… but it was hard to picture a boy wanting to commit such a crime. He never seemed to dislike the headmaster. Never sneered at him when he gave speeches in the great hall (yes I glanced out of mild curiosity.) As much as I should’ve hated him… for all the things he’d done, things he had said… I couldn’t help but hurt for him and wondered who he had to comfort him like I had Harry and Ron and all the Weasleys for that matter. Who did Draco have?

Seventh year. We were officially out of classes, one the run, hunting horcruxes, and praying we could take down you know who before he took down the entire wizarding world. Despite the outcome of the war, you will never outrun the horrors you face during the war. I’m reminded everyday as I bathe and feel the raised skin on my arm from the scars I harbor. The jagged uneven lines on my left arm. The twitch in my muscles when I get overly stressed from the cruciatus curse. The fear I wake up in the middle of the night feeling like I’m moments away from everything being ripped away from me, drenched in sweat. The hatred I felt for Bellatrix. The anger I directed at Draco Malfoy when he owed me nothing. He had lied that night to his father and dear auntie Bella. He said he didn’t recognize Harry. I knew he had. I could see his face from across the room where the snatchers held Ron and I. The glimmer of fear and recognition in his eyes before he shook his head and said he wasn’t sure. I thought for a moment he had been on our side until Auntie Bella turned her anger on the mudblood in the room and no one but Harry and Ron has protested. He walked away. He left the room. I could no longer see his white blonde hair or lean frame as I was tortured and pinned to the floor. As my flesh was carved into and I screamed and screamed for help. I never saw him. The hope that he would be on our side vanished as I screamed and he never reappeared. I didn’t stay angry at him. The night of the final battle, when he left with his mother… When he chose not to fight next to Voldemort, I realized, he was just a product of an abusive household without love. I would never tell Ron (who hated his guts) but I forgave Malfoy. I just hoped he would be better with the threat of his family being harmed no longer there. I silently prayed for the redemption of Draco Malfoy.

Draco’s POV (flashbacks)
I woke up in a cold sweat, my ears still ringing from the sound of screams. Every fucking night. Every night I dream of Malfoy Manor and the screams of Granger as Bellatrix tortured her for fun. My psychotic aunt carved up my classmate for fun. I hated myself for that night. I thought I was helping them that night in my cowardly way. I didn’t anticipate Bellatrix and her obsession for materialistic items like the sword of Gryffindor. I knew Bellatrix would’ve sold me out or worse my mother to the dark lord had I intervened but still… I could still hate myself for not helping her. Even if she hated me, even if I’d tortured her for years… she never deserved that. I just hope these nightmares don’t last a lifetime like I fear they do. I hope Granger is living the life she deserves.

Back to Hermione’s POV and now to present day!