Hermione was exhausted. Between studying for O.W.L.’s, keeping the boys in check, and her prefect duties, she had almost no time left for leisurely readings. Two more classrooms to check and her prefect rounds would be done for the night.
Just another 10 minutes.
Or not.
She opened the classroom door, expecting to find it empty, but instead saw a familiar pale blond head.
Draco’s back was to her, he must have not heard her enter or have been too focused on what he was doing. Of course it would be him, of all people, to delay her night.
She silently crept along the side wall, hoping to see his face and what nefarious thing he was doing past curfew in an empty room.
She froze when she saw the anguish on his face.
Draco’s brows were furrowed, his eyes glassy, and mouth downturned in a horrible frown.
His normally perfect posture was missing. Instead, his shoulders were curved in; he looked utterly devastated. He closed his eyes. A lone tear escaped and was ignored. He took a shaky break and seemed to try to steady himself.
Hermione could not look away.
He opened his eyes, set his shoulders back, and pointed his wand toward the center of the classroom.
“Expecto patronum,” he said softly.
Nothing happened. Not even a wisp of beautiful, silvery light escaped his wand.
His steady expression faltered.
“Expecto patronum!” He said with more volume and vigor.
Nothing.
“Expecto patronum!”
Louder. More pained.
“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” He bellowed, face crumpling when there was no change.
He hung his head a sob escaped him.
Hermione was moored to her spot along the wall.
She had never seen him so vulnerable, so devastated. His swagger and arrogance were replaced by sorrow and shaky breathes.
“Draco,” she breathed softly.
He spun towards her quickly, wand pointed directly at her chest. When he recognized her, he lowered his wand and sighed.
“Come to taunt me Granger? Take all the points from Slytherin as you’d wish. I’m finished here.” He turned away from her and moved to pick up his discarded messenger bag.
“I-“ she stumbled. She wasn’t sure what to say, how to respond to a clearly devastated Draco. Her tormentor.
For a reason she would not begin to consider, Hermione offered, “I can help you. With the charm.”
He scoffed, not looking at her. “Not even a swot like you could help with this Granger.”
“I can. I can cast a patronus.” He finally met her eyes, sorrow shining through.
“You cannot fix what I need most to do this. You cannot fix my utter lack of any happy memories.” She could not stop the gasp that escaped her. The Prince of Slytherin, the king of snakes, had bared himself in a way she never thought him capable. To her, no less.
Hermione wanted to help. Wanted to comfort him. To hell with their rivalry, the agony in his eyes was unbearable. “Let me show you,” she said softly, and moved to stand next to him. “Expecto Patronum.” Her otter materialized, swam on thin air around them. Draco’s mouth parted.
Draco had never actually seen a full Patronus before.
It was beautiful, as was the slight smile on Hermione’s face as she watched her otter prance around.
She turned to him, smile fading. “It doesn’t have to be a real memory. It can be anything that makes you feel true joy. Mine is the first time I learned magic was real and that I was a witch. I have never been happier than that day.” She added the latter quietly, more to herself than him.
Draco noticed sadness in her eyes, no doubt from the reminder that not everyone was happy about her magic.
“Can I watch?” He said, before he could stop himself.
Fool! Why would she show him that memory? Why was she even extending him such kindness, when he thrived on tormenting her?
She gave him a contemplative look, tilting her head to the side. “How?”
“I..” he had never confided in another about his gift, none aside from his mother knew. “I’m a Legilimens.”
Her mouth parted in surprise, eyes widened slightly. She knew that was likely hidden information and that he chose to trust her with it. Against all reason, she agreed.
“Bring that memory to the front of your mind,” he said softly.
He couldn’t believe she agreed, couldn’t believe Granger was allowing him into her mind to help him. To try to bring him up from such a low place.
“I’ll be gentle,” he all but whispered. “Legilimens,” he said.
Draco found the memory immediately at the forefront of her mind, as he requested.
Twelve year old Hermione stood before Professor McGonagall, her parents behind her. “Your daughter is a witch and has been accepted at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”
Draco felt, more than saw, the pure joy coursing through Hermione.
Unadulterated happiness.
A joy he had never felt before.
A happiness the Malfoy heir, with more gold and status and magical blood, had never tasted.
He removed himself from her mind.
Both of them gasped;Hermione likely from the intrusive feeling of legilimency.
But Draco gasped at the witch before him.
At the joy she was capable of.
At her kindness.
At that kindness being directed to him.
At the slight upward curve at her lips as she gaped at him.
Words couldn’t accurately describe the turmoil of emotions within him. Something inside Draco melted, sorrow was replaced by wonder and intrigue as he stared at her.
Draco had no coherent thought in his head as he placed one hand behind her neck and another around her cheek.
Draco did the unthinkable.
He brought his lips to hers, kissing her surprisingly soft lips.
She gasped, but kissed him back. It was soft, tender.
She put her hand atop his, the one cradling her cheek.
He withdrew & looked into her eyes. “Thank you” he whispered.