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Summary
Whilst others’ formulaic platitudes were predictable enough that he could offer half-hearted agreements, Hermione Granger was a riddle he could not decipher.
The version of him before the war, before the ugly mark on his left arm stood stark against his pale skin and the threat of death to him and his mother and father made every waking moment a nightmare, he was certain he had Granger pegged.
She was an ensemble piece to Potter. Smarter, perhaps, but still as fool-hardy and stubborn.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Or: Draco Malfoy traverses through his Eighth Year, changed from who he once was, and bemoaning the fact that he's falling hard for Hermione Granger.