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"Draco, I can't believe you snuck me in here!" Hermione hissed. "We're breaking so many rules. What if we get caught?"
"Fear not, Granger," Draco replied confidently. "No one would dare report Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, to Snape. I'm untouchable, you see?"
Hermione harrumphed and squinted around at their dim surroundings. "Where exactly are we?"
"Well, Granger, we happen to be in a long-unused recreation room, if you catch my meaning," Draco winked openly, dusting off a cushy armchair and sending large clouds of dust flying.
"Achoo! A-Achoo! You know," she said wryly, rubbing her nose, "there's a spell for that. And can we get some light in here? Incendio," Hermione muttered, pointing her wand around at a few crusty candles strewn about on equally crusty tables.
The sudden light dazzled both their eyes for a moment before revealing the rest of the "recreation room". It smelled dank and was rather chilly, and Hermione thought she glimpsed a few spiders the size of dinner plates scuttling away into the dark corners of the room, which were festooned with ghostly veils of cobwebs.
Discolored but comfortable-looking armchairs squatted near the tables, all covered in several inches of dust. A large, dark fireplace loomed across from them, bottom filled with the mouldy remnants of unburnt wood and cinders.
Despite the extreme dilapidation of the room and the extreme unhelpfulness of Draco (he was sitting in the armchair, instructing Hermione where to clean next), Hermione had it in tip-top shape in almost no time at all.
“Well, Granger,” said Draco, rising from the armchair and stretching luxuriously, “let’s take a break. That was hard work,” he remarked, missing Hermione’s gigantic eyeroll.
“After you, my fair lady,” he said, gesturing to a wide, deep emerald loveseat in front of the now-crackling fire.
Hermione rolled her eyes again, but sat down on one side. Draco took the other, sitting a little too close to be considered merely friendly.
“Now, Granger,” Draco said, nonchalantly stretching his left arm around Hermione’s shoulders, “Do you know how I know about this marvelous room? My father told me about it, naturally; it’s practically a family secret, so you should be deeply honoured that I’m sharing it with you.”
Smirking to herself, Hermione brought her face to Draco’s until they were mere centimeters apart. “You’re right, Draco. I am deeply honoured. In fact, I’m honoured to just be in your presence away from everyone else.”
She struggled not to burst out laughing as Draco turned beet red and jerked away, breathing very fast. “Er-- er, I’m pleased you think that way, Granger.”
“Please, Draco… Call me ‘Hermione’,” she purred, leaning closer to Draco.
Draco was so stunned that he fell off the loveseat.
“Ouch! This is all your fault! My father will hear about this!” he blustered, still very red-faced. “I- You- hold on…” he paused, bringing his hand up to his nose. “Am I… Am I bleeding? I could have sworn… am I bleeding?” He asked again, still touching his nose tenderly.
“Draco, you didn’t even hit your head; you’re fine,” Hermione consoled him, giggling a little. She helped him back up onto the sofa. Resuming her coquettish facade, she murmured, leaning in close again, “Now where we?”
“Uh, Granger, uh, H-Hermione, would you, uh, I can teach you how to draw!” Draco squeaked, pushing Hermione back lightly.
Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You can? Really? Oh, Draco, you have no idea how much this means to me!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms around him joyfully.
Draco, though still blushing quite furiously, brought his arms around and hugged her back gently. He allowed himself a small smile. I can’t believe Hermione Granger is hugging me! Me!
“So!” Hermione said, pulling away abruptly, “Where do we start?” She asked, looking at Draco eagerly.
“Right. Well. First, we’ll need some paper, pencils, and crayons…”
“Crayons?” Hermione wrinkled her nose.
“Er, well, I suppose we can use colored pencils, or markers, if you like. They’re very grown-up,” he added importantly.
“Okay, I can conjure the materials up. Give me a second…” Hermione concentrated, waved her wand, and a large roll of parchment, pencils, and colored pencils appeared, as well as a small container of pink erasers.
“I’ll probably mess up a lot,” she said in response to Draco’s quizzical look.
“Oh. I don’t really make a lot of mistakes.” Draco shrugged. “Anyhow, let’s move to one of those tables you cleared off…”
Shortly, Draco and Hermione were seated at a table near the fire. The ancient candles sent their flickering light across the parchment Draco was labouring over. Silence, except for the occasional pops and hisses from the fire, and the scratching of pencil on parchment, settled back over the long-forgotten room. For a while, Hermione observed quietly, studying Draco’s broad, sweeping strokes, as well as the short, stippled ones. Slowly, a human form began to take shape; Hermione blushed when she realized it was her. She blushed even more when Draco occasionally glanced up at her to make sure he got all the minute details of her face correct. Faster than she thought possible, Draco moved on to painstakingly coloring her portrait, stopping here and there to add some shadows. And then the drawing was done.
“Here, Hermione, you can keep it if you like,” Draco said, handing her the drawing. “It’s not the best I could do, it was kind of rushed, but I hope you like it.”
Hermione took the drawing from him and gasped softly. Draco was wrong; it was perfect. It looked so much like her, she thought she was looking in a mirror. “Draco, I love it! It’s so beautiful!”
Draco smiled shyly. “You’re beautiful, Hermione.”
Hermione looked away; she felt a deep flush creeping up her neck. “Oh, Draco, you don’t have to say that--”
“Why not? It’s true, Hermione; you are beautiful. I mean, on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 would be the ugliest and 10 for pretty, I would give you 8… 8.5… or a 9… Not over a 9.8 because there is always room for improvement. I know you’re not perfect, like me, but you’re pretty close, Hermione.”
Hermione sighed good-naturedly. There was the egotistical Draco she knew.
“Anyway, Hermione, now it’s your turn. You get to draw me now; don’t worry, I’ll help you.”
And so, Hermione set about the task of drawing Draco Malfoy. As expected, he wasn’t the best teacher, but he wasn’t the worst, either. There were many times when he looked as though he wanted to take the pencil away and draw the thing himself, but he never criticized her efforts. Instead, he made helpful suggestions and showed her examples of what worked and what didn’t.
An hour later, they both studied the result of their efforts.
“Well… It’s not the best you could do, but it’s a big improvement, Hermione,” Draco said, craning his neck and squinting. “Not better than mine, of course, but it’s pretty good.”
Hermione smiled. “Here, Draco;” she printed her signature and the date neatly near the bottom of the parchment, “I want you to have this.” And she promptly handed it to him.
A small smile curled Draco’s lips. “Really? Thanks, Hermione. I love it.”
“I love you,” Hermione whispered, hardly daring to look at him. When she didn’t hear a response, she glanced up, fearing the worst.
But Draco was blushing and beaming ear to ear. “I-- I love you, too, Hermione! A-And not just because you’re the most beautiful person I’ve met besides me! You’re so smart, and clever, and kind, and -- mmf!”
Overcome with happiness, Hermione grabbed Draco’s face and kissed him. He was stunned. Hermione Granger is kissing me! Me!
Draco kissed back eagerly; he could hardly believe this was real.
All too soon, Hermione pulled back, with a shy smile on her face. “Draco, I had a great time with you tonight. Do you think maybe… maybe we could do this again? I’d really like to learn to draw, and the other things were all fun as well,” Hermione said, blushing.
“Of course, Hermione. Any time,” Draco said, beaming again.
“Hey! Maybe I could teach you how to write fanfiction!” Hermione said excitedly.
“What’s fanfiction?”
“Well, you know how some people don’t like the whole plot of a fandom…?”
Hours later, they left the secret recreation room hand in hand, chatting animatedly, and would return to it many times in the future to enjoy each other’s company in peace.