Chapter 5
“Harry, what?” Hermione finally snapped, throwing down her spoon. He’d been looking at her strangely all morning and she couldn’t figure out why. She’d woken up in the hospital wing again, with no memory of anything since yesterday morning. She’d been alone, and Madam Pomfrey said she’d been asleep for the last twenty-four hours.
Hermione had managed to go back to Gryffindor tower and grab a fresh outfit, but when she’d gotten to the Great Hall, she’d found Harry watching her with an expression of shock. He’d asked what she was doing there and she’d brushed him off, mostly because she didn’t really know what the true answer would be, and ever since she’d caught him sneaking glances at her every few seconds.
His eyebrows flew up now though, “Hmm?”
“Cut it out! You’re being weird.”
“I’m not being weird, Hermione. You’re being weird, Hermione.”
“Why do you keep saying my name?” she frowned.
“What? Your name? I didn’t say your name, Hermione. I’m not saying your name. I hardly know your name, Hermione. What’s your name again? Heh heh…” he laughed, looking supremely uncomfortable. Shite. He must’ve seen. Hermione didn’t remember passing out, but if she tried hard, she was pretty sure she could remember meeting him in the hall before it all went blank.
“Fuck.” She sighed, “Harry, I’m fine. I’m sorry if I worried you yesterday. I think I’ve just been having fainting spells for something. It’s not a big deal, I swear, I’m okay.”
He frowned and nodded but she could tell he didn’t believe her, “Right, yeah Hermione. No, I know, Hermione. I know you’re okay, I just…sorry, Hermione.”
She snapped again, her hands bracing on the table. “Okay please stop calling me Hermione!”
“What?” Harry startled, his eyes going wide, “Hermione, what do you want me to call you if I can’t call you Hermione. That’s your name. Hermione Granger. What else would I call you, Hermione?”
Now she was starting to wonder if he was the one who hit his head.
“How about nothing? You don’t call me anything and I won’t call you anything. Or just anything besides that.”
“What like a nickname?” his head snapped to hers and he dropped his fork “Wait! NO. No nicknames!”
“What?”
“Just, don’t like nicknames.” He shook his head.
“Harry, what are you talking about?”
“Hi Hermione!” someone new said her name and turned to see Neville come and take the seat next to her.
“Hi Neville!” she smiled.
“How are you this morning? I heard about…but you’re alright?”
Godric she loved Neville. He asked enough questions to be a good friend but not enough to make her uncomfortable.
“Yeah, Nev, I’m good.”
“nicknames!” Harry snapped from across the table and Neville frowned.
“Harry, mate, did you get enough sleep last night?”
“What?”
“You’ve done a real uh…brutal job on your fork,” he gestured to where Hermione—and Harry it seemed—realized he’d twisted a metal fork in half. Neville chuckled awkwardly, “Just looking out for the others. Wouldn’t want you to hurt a spoon too, you know?” Harry frowned.
“I would never hurt anyone! I don’t hurt people Neville. Not intentionally! I would never try to hurt Hermione!”
Neville pursed his lips and nodded slowly, “Yeah, right. No, I know…I believe you.”
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
“You should. I would never lie.” He said with conviction before freezing again, “Unless of course it was to protect someone because telling them the truth would only cause them more pain. Then I would lie. But it wouldn’t be a awful lie. I just wouldn’t want to hurt them. I would tell them if I knew it wouldn’t hurt them.”
“Right yeah. I know. Er…” he gave a smile, but it was really more of a grimace. Then he turned to face Hermione and she could see he wanted out of this conversation as badly as she did. “Um, Mione, next weekend’s a Hogsmeade one, are you going?”
“Oh yes! I nearly forgot. I was planning on it, why?” she smiled. This was good. A normal topic. Normal conversation. Hermione really needed normal this morning.
“Well, I was wondering,” he looked down at his plate before smiling nervously at her, “Would you want to go with me?”
“What?” She smiled, Neville was so sweet, and he was one of her closest friends. Sure, she wasn’t particularly attracted to him at all, but she knew what courage it must have taken him if he was asking her out. “Neville, I’d—”
“Mmhmm!” The noise came from across the table again where Harry was shaking his head vigorously.
“What?” she asked, frowning.
“No!” he shook his head even more and raised a hand. “No, sorry. She’s busy! She can’t. No.”
Hermione laughed nervously as she felt her face heating, “Harry what are you talking about? I’m not busy, Neville I’d—”
“NOPE!” he shouted and stood; the sound was so loud it caused the entire hall to go silent as everyone turned to look at what was going on. Hermione was mortified. “She can’t.” he said looking at Neville. “Hermione, we have class.” He gritted and then started walking. It was a Saturday.
Hermione watched him in gaping silence with all of her peers until he got halfway down the hall and shot her a glare like she’d never seen from him before. She quickly followed him them, apologizing profusely to Neville as she grabbed her things and then followed the raven-haired wizard, ready to hex him if he didn’t have a good enough explanation.
Harry silently led her to a corner of the library, and she could practically hear him thinking. She waited though, until he’d set his stuff down before she rounded on him and cast a muffliato.
“What the bloody hell was that?” she shouted, and Harry blanched.
But he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at something behind her. Hermione scoffed, crossing her arms to see what in Merlin’s name was so distracting after he’d just been so incredibly rude, only to see Theo and Draco looking at her, confused.
She quickly turned around and pointed at him with a glare, “We’re not done and you’re not getting out of this. Finite!” Hermione then turned around slowly, embarrassed. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Theo said looking guilty?
But Draco looked at her in a way that made her feel funny, “Hello.”
“Sorry, we were just having a little spat.” She said, throwing a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of Harry who snorted. “Don’t even think about it.” She said sharply without turning around to face him. She was pretty sure she heard him mutter, ‘sorry.’
“We’d be happy to come back later if we’re interrupting.” Draco said kindly.
“No, not at all. It can wait. How are you?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s supposed to be asking you that.”
Hermione’s cheeks heated as she winced, “You heard.”
His eyebrows flew up, “What? —I mean, yeah, we heard.”
“I’m sorry, I really don’t know what’s been coming over me. I swear I’m not normally someone with so many problems. I feel insane.” She ran her hands over her face. Godric, she’d slept twenty-four hours, but she felt like she’d gotten none. Someone placed their hand on her shoulders though and when Hermione looked up Theo was there.
“It’s fine, Hermione. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Thank you, I know, I just—we’d just—and then I…” she bit her lip, unsure of how to even explain it.
“Hey,” Theo squeezed her arms, “You’re fine. Don’t worry. We’re still friends, right?”
“Of course!” she said, looking up at him. He smiled and oh how badly Hermione really did want to be Theo’s friend.
“Good.” And then he hugged her again, but this time Hermione knew to expect a long one, so she just held him back.
“I promise I’ll try not to pass out on you again.” She joked into his shoulder and Theo squeezed her tighter.
“I’ll catch you if you do, Curls.”
She pulled back to look at him, “Curls?”
“Your hair is very curly, you know?” he smiled and pulled on a lock.
Hermione laughed, “Yes, I’ve been told that before. But I rather think it’s just as curly as your own.” She’d noticed that Theo had very similar wild brown curls to her own, but he kept them controlled in a much shorter cut.
Theo’s expression froze for a moment before it pulled into a full-on grin and he ran a hand through his hair and drawled, “Well shite, you know, I think you might be right about that.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse before!” she gasped, and he raised a brow.
“I curse all the time.” And then he casually set down his bag on the table she’d claimed earlier.
“I know but I hadn’t expected it. You just seem so posh.”
“I’m not posh, Hermione. I play quidditch!” he puffed his chest and Hermione groaned, “What?” his jaw dropped in shock, “You don’t like quidditch?”
“No! It’s terribly boring!” she laughed at his look of horror, and realized Draco was smirking beside them. “What?”
“Nothing,” he shook his head.
“No, tell us.” She insisted and he smiled. He smiled a full smile at her, and Hermione realized in that moment that Draco Malfoy had a brilliant smile. Theos was stunning, but Draco’s was captivating and rare and made Hermione never want to look away.
“Well, it’s just…” he looked at Theo and Harry almost in question before continuing. “Theo’s father hated quidditch.” He said and Hermione watched as Theo froze for a moment before nodding to himself, as if in recollection. But Draco wasn’t done, after a moment of watching her, he continued slowly. “His mother was a brilliant chaser, not unlike her son. But I remember growing up his father could never get through an entire match without spending at least part of it reading a book.”
Hermione heard Harry huff and turned to look at him, “What?” He had a weird wistful look about him and a part of her worried he was about to be strange again, but he just waved a hand in her direction.
“Hermione’s the same way.”
“No, I’m not!” she protested. If her new friends like quidditch, she didn’t want them to think she was completely opposed to the idea of it. She could watch quidditch if she had to. Probably. Maybe.
“Mione,” he scoffed.
“I’ve gotten through a game!”
“I don’t think I believe you.”
“I have, Harry. It’s true. Tell them, first year, Quirrell was jinxing your broom and I was watching the whole match because it was the first match and I thought Snape was the one jinxing you, so I snuck under the professor’s stands and lit his robes on fire! I definitely didn’t have a book that whole time!”
“What?!” Both Draco and Theo chorused but Harry burst out laughing.
“Mi that so does not count! You weren’t watching the match; you were saving my life! And it was your first quidditch match! You’ve brought a book to every one since!”
“Yes, but I didn’t bring a book to that one! I should get credit for not bringing a book!” she crossed her arms and watched as Theo leaned against the table, looking at them both with intrigue.
“I’m going to need to hear this whole story.” He said, laughter in his eyes.
“Yes, me as well,” Draco agreed, “Does this have anything to do with why you’re supposedly in the hospital wing every year?”
“During second semester,” Theo added, pointing at him.
“Did she tell you about how she spent over a month petrified during second year?” Harry mentioned, unhelpfully. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, and he smirked.
“You were what?” Draco asked, and she startled when she realized he’d had moved to stand right next to her.
“Oh, Harry’s being dramatic. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. It was just a giant snake, and he killed it so it’s not really a problem anymore.”
“Giant snake?”
“Chamber of Secrets,” she grinned in what she hoped was a mysterious voice. And then she grabbed her bag and walked over to a seating area. If they were going to tell their stories, they needed to be far more comfortable than a desk could provide, and they couldn’t stand. Harry and Theo followed, neither of them commenting when she realized she’d instinctively taken Draco’s hand and pulled him with her. “Sorry,” she said as she realized she had been about to force him to sit next to her. But Draco either didn’t hear her or didn’t care because he sat beside her on the couch anyway. Hermione grabbed her wand and cast a muffliato around the area, remembering they were in a library, before turning to face Draco and where the other boys were sitting on the opposite couch.
--- --- --- ---
She was enchanting.
She was different than she had been when he’d known her years ago—obviously—but she was still perfect in every way. Draco couldn’t help but feel captivated by her as he watched her talk. She and Potter had a familiarity and rhythm with each other as they told stories that he hoped one day she might share with him too.
And she was brilliant. Draco had known she was intelligent from sharing classes with her over the last month or so, but he hadn’t truly appreciated her natural brilliance and gift for magic. It wasn’t surprising given her family, but it was, given the fact that to her conscious self she’d been raised by muggles. She’d been raised by muggles, and she was still the smartest person in her entire year. So smart that she’d been trusted with a time-turner so that she could attend every possible course last year and she still managed to be top of her class. A part of him smirked knowing that his father would probably hate that fact.
But he also sobered at the reminder of his father. Because Hermione—Emmeline, she was so wonderful. She was so perfect and pure. And he smiled at the right time when she burst into laughter, but his mind was a mess because Draco didn’t think he wanted her to meet his father. He didn’t want to risk what felt so right with the possibility of his father’s disapproval. And even more so, Draco had his mother to consider.
It was her safety though, that he feared more than he did her opinion. His mother would love Hermione. He knew it already. She would likely tease him and ask Hermione why a girl as incredible and beautiful as she would want to settle for her son. But then she would tell him that it was surely a gift from Merlin, and she was proud. His father had never shared that kind of sentiment and Draco feared what he might say or do if he found out, especially given Draco was away from home and his mother was alone with his father.
He became lost in thoughts as he watched her speak. Leaning his arm on the back of the couch, he had somehow managed to unconsciously wrap one of her soft curls around his finger and was now mesmerized watching it bounce.
“Draco?” her voice came like a siren call he had to follow. As his eyes met her perfect brown ones, he felt tempted to drown in them.
“Hmm?”
“I asked how you were feeling.”
“About?”
“The Goblet?”
“What?” he asked and glanced over for help, but Potter was just laughing silently at him, and Theo was shaking his head—the pricks. “What do you mean?”
Hermione smiled at him and even though he felt lost, he also felt like he’d one a thousand galleons.
“The tournament, of course. The one you’re here for.”
Tournament? —Oh shite. He’d completely forgotten. “Oh right. I mean, we’re too young to enter our names anyway so…” he shrugged. He’d come because Durmstrang and his father were exhausting and as the top two students in their class he and Theo had been guaranteed spots if they applied. Karkaroff said he needed to bring the school’s best. Draco had needed something, but he hadn’t known what exactly that something had been until now. He’d needed her.
“Yes, I know.” she smiled again and placed a hand on his arm. The arm that had been playing with her hair. Draco wondered for a moment if she was going to scold at him for it, but she just shook her head, “But I meant for your school. Do you have any guesses as to who will be chosen?”
That was easy.
“Krum.” He and Theo answered in unison. Both smirking at each other.
“Who?”
“Mione we talked about this. He’s the one from the World Cup.” Potter told her.
“Oh right! Ron hasn’t shut up about him.”
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
“So, you think he’ll be the one chosen?”
“Undoubtedly.” Theo answered, “He’s got the largest reputation and the greatest skill for dueling out of those we brought with us who are eligible.”
“Of those who are eligible?” Hermione asked and Theo grinned.
“Indeed.”
“That means there’s someone you think would be better who’s not eligible.” Potter concluded. “Who?”
The bloody smirk appeared on his face before he turned to his sister, “Draco, of course.”
“What?” she asked, looking shocked as she glanced between him and Theo.
“If I had to bet who would win the cup out of anyone we brought, it’s him. He makes Krum look sweet comparatively. But he can’t compete so, Krum, easy.”
Draco shifted uncomfortably under her stare.
“Is that true?”
“Maybe,” he shrugged, watching where her hand was still holding his arm instead of looking at her face. “Theo’s being dramatic. I’m just pretty good at dueling. It’s nothing special really.”
“He’s terrifying.” He cut in and Draco wondered what happened to the nervous bloke Theo had been since they got here. That wizard was far less annoying than this one who was suddenly chatty. “And he’s being humble which is not normal.”
“I’m not being humble.” He shot him a glare. “And I’m not terrifying.”
“I can definitely see you being terrifying.” Hermione said.
“What?” He never wanted her to be afraid of him.
“Well, I mean, I wasn’t ever actually scared of you, but you were a real prick for the first month you were here. I think if you hadn’t found me passed out I would probably still think you were a prick.” She said and Draco frowned. He knew he had been horrible, but it had been to try and protect Theo. He would always want to protect Theo, yet he hated that he’d hurt her. Hermione squeezed his arm, drawing his thoughts away. “I know you’re not actually, but you were. And so, I just meant that I can see what Theo said as being the truth.”
“I’m sorry.” He answered because he was.
“It’s alright. I understand,” She really didn’t, but he couldn’t say that. “I am impressed though that you lot are getting along.” Hermione mused after a moment.
“What do you mean?” Theo frowned.
“I swear, yesterday morning Harry was ready to hex both of you for me, but now we’re all sitting together like friends.”
Right. Because Hermione had no memory of their day yesterday. She had no memory of them fighting in the hospital wing, of them being in the hospital wing together, of her and him…being together. He’d woken up before her this morning. He’d woken up and realized that if she got up alone with him next to her, having no memories of yesterday he would surely make her uncomfortable. The bubble that seemed to surround them before had broken somehow so he left as quietly as possible without her noticing. He’d gone back to the ship and found Theo who said he’d explained everything to Potter and the two had ended up talking all night. Draco didn’t know much about the boy who lived, but he trusted Theo and he trusted Hermione.
“Common ground.” Theo answered, “We were all worried about you. We all cared.”
“Well, I’m glad.” She smiled and for a moment everything in Draco felt at peace.