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Head Girl and eighth year student at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger loves the library. Out of all the things that she enjoys about the ancient castle that teaches young wizards and witches, she loves the library the most.
Sure she does enjoy her classes and she has a couple of favorites such as Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. She thought after the war, she wouldn’t be able to study the way that she did before the war. After the war, it’s like her study habits have not changed at all.
Though, what Hermione was not used to… would be the stares she would get each time she would walk in the candlelit halls of the castle to her classes. Some she would acknowledge, especially if the stares were from her fellow Gryffindor classmates. Some students would give her space as she walks by, something that Hermione could be without.
It’s something that she has to get used to, especially since she was recently voted to be Head Girl after all. The Head Boy was someone that was in Hufflepuff in her eighth year as well and they would work together their schedules for the week at times either in the library or in the Heads Common Room, though she much prefers being in the library.
After the bell signaled that her Potion class was over and that also meant that Hermione was done for the day, she gathered her things into her bag to head towards the grand library to finish up her studies.
There was a skip in her steps as she wandered down the halls towards the library, smiling at fellow students here and there, stopping briefly to talk to a few that had some questions about Charms homework that was due the following week.
“Going over to the library again?” She hears Neville Longbottom yell, as she walks by him in the hallways.
She stopped in her tracks to smile at him, silently beaming to herself when she noticed that Hannah Abbott was with him. Everyone in their year suspected that those two were secretly dating, but didn’t want to announce it quite yet. Hannah does hang around him constantly ever since returning to Hogwarts to finish her studies as well.
Hannah smiled shyly at Hermione, playing with her blonde hair that came out loose from her ponytail. Hermione returned the smile, showing her teeth.
“Is that not surprising?” Hermione asked him, clutching her biggest book that couldn’t fit into her bag that was over her shoulders. “If I’m going to be the Minister of Magic one day, I have to study.”
Neville laughed at her ambitious goals. It’s not at all of a surprise that Hermione has dreams after graduating from Hogwarts. Everyone has their path. Neville plans on becoming an Auror just like Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley did, but neither of them had returned to Hogwarts, they each decided to start working immediately after the war.
Though secretly Hermione suspects that Neville may or may not may do something that has to deal with Herbology but he was dead set on becoming an Auror after Hogwarts to follow in his parents footsteps.
Hermione has her own dreams and ambitions. After graduating, she plans to attend Harvard University because she had learned that they just started a program to accept witches and wizards in hopes to build a closer relationship with them. They are slowly starting to accept magical students from all over, including their own American Witchcraft and Wizardry school Ilvermonry.
To say that she was shocked that she was going overseas for university was surprising to her. However, the thought of starting her university life somewhere else excites her even more and she dreams of becoming the next Minister of Magic one day.
That’s why she’s heading towards the library once again to finish studying for her upcoming exams that were next week, as well as studying for the next, next exams and tests. She has lots to do, but she loves getting lost in her study books.
“You’ll be Minister of Magic one day, Hermione,” Neville tells her, breaking out of her thoughts about her future. “I can already see it now,” he says with a large lopsided grin.
“Thanks Neville,” Hermione says, shuffling her books in her arms. “I better get going.” She says to him, waving him good-bye and resumes her descent to the library.
As she entered the grand, old library, Hermione took a big whiff of the air. She could literally smell the pages of the books, the smell of parchment and ink. She shivers when she hears pages being turned and looked up as books were floating in the air.
She wasn’t the only student at the library. She spots a couple of first years from Ravenclaw studying. She could also see a group of fourth year Slytherins huddled together reading their books.
Neither group looked up when Hermione walked in further into the library, trying to find a spot near the back where arch windows were. She finds an empty table and sat closer near the arch window, biting her lower lip as she places her books that she was carrying in her arms softly on the wooden table as well as her other school supplies from her bag and before she realizes it, after opening her Potions books she instantly gets lost into her own little study world, blocking out her surroundings.
Something in Hermione told her that something was up a few hours later. What she noticed first was that she was laying on top of one of her books, the light from the arch windows were dark and filled with shadows from the trees from outside. Even the lighting in the library was off, leaving her in the dark.
She quickly grabbed her wand from her bag, muttering, “lumos,” casting a soft white light at the point of her wand, making her eyesight bearable.
“Fudge,” Hermione muttered as she gathered her things into her bag and gathered her heaviest books in one arm and her wand in the other, hoping that the door of the library would be unlocked, praying that she didn’t literally accidentally fall asleep while studying.
She releases a breath when she spots the big oak doors and tries to pull open the door, frowning when it didn’t budge for her. She knitted her brows as she tried again, using all of her strength the second time trying to make the door open.
It didn’t.
“We’re locked in, Granger,” a voice said from a few feet behind her.
Hermione’s hand paused on the handle of the door as she recognized that familiar deep velvet voice and she slowly turned her head to see the former Death Eater and fellow eighth year student Draco Malfoy, standing a safe distance away from her, holding his own lit wand in his hand.
“Oh,” she says quietly, turning back around to look at the door again. “I didn’t realize…” she paused again, chewing the inside of her cheek nervously. “I lost track of time.”
“Got lost studying again, Granger?” Draco asked and Hermione couldn’t help but could hear the grin coming from him.
“What about you then?” Hermione finds herself asking, turning around to finally face him. “What’s your excuse?”
He lifts a dark brow at her and grip the strap of his bag that was hanging loosely over his robes. “Same,” he responded with a mumble, avoiding his grey eyes from her chocolate ones. “I also accidentally fell asleep.”
“Ah,” Hermione says, unsure what to say after that. “I see.” She says quietly.
It’s no secret to what had happened during the war. Everyone knew what part Draco Malfoy had during the beginning of the war, of how he was forced to take The Dark Mark in order to protect his family from death from Lord Voldemort. It was either join the Death Eaters, or die and he chose to survive no matter what happens, even if it means to let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts.
Harry, Ron and Hermione each spoke during his trial. Harry spoke highly and honestly about him, saying that it wasn’t his fault and that he was forced to do what Lord Voldemort wanted. Ron told the Council of Magical Law of how he truly feels about Draco which was the complete opposite, saying that he should be locked up for life.
When it was Hermione’s turn to take the stand in front of Wizengamot, she asked them to give Draco another chance, to not send him to be a prisoner of Azkaban. She was very adamant about getting him a second chance.
In the end, the Wizengamot decided to pardon Draco Malfoy from his crimes, given the fact that he was indeed forced to do them. However, there were requirements to his freedom. He has to finish Hogwarts, have high marks on all of his classes (though in Hermione’s honest opinion, that shouldn’t even be part of his restriction because he’s also an excellent student), and have limited wand access unless it’s strictly for school. He cannot have full access to his magic until he is deemed trustworthy after he graduates from Hogwarts.
Hermione would see him in passing and in classes that she would share with him, but other than that, she hasn’t spoken a full sentence to him since his trial.
Until now.
A sudden chill went through Hermione, making her shiver and clutch her robes tighter around herself. It was nearing winter at Hogwarts, meaning the temperatures were starting to drop, meaning soon the library would start getting cold.
“I can’t believe this,” Hermione muttered, leaning her head back against the locked door. “So,” she says, chewing the inside of her cheek as she looks at Draco. “We’re locked inside.”
Draco nodded once at her. “Yes,” he says with a sigh, scratching his head with a hand. “Until 08:00AM, that’s when the door will magically unlock itself.”
Hermione narrowed her brows at him questionably. “Are you saying that the door has a spell on it?”
She turns around and tries to open the door, and sure enough, it was sealed shut. She then tries using her wand, hoping if she casts a couple of spells, she could unlock the door. There’s no way that the door could actually be spelled in a way that even a simple one couldn't work.
“Give up, Granger,” Draco says, walking behind her carefully, still keeping a distance from her. “I’ve tried every spell already.”
Hermione let out a frustrated sound and started to count backwards from ten to calm herself before turning back around to face the blonde Slytherin, who still had his wand lit up but was careful not to blind her eyes with it.
“Bloody brilliant,” Hermione muttered underneath her breath, slumping down onto the floor. “What happens now?” she asked him, leaning her head against the door.
“Mind if I sit with you?” Draco asked, nodding his head at the empty space next to Hermione.
Hermione looked at him again, really looked at him, drinking him in really. He still has that platinum blonde hair, he would usually keep it short and silk back, but after the war, he decided to let part of his hair fall just on his brows, letting it curl behind his ears. His pale skin was no longer sickly looking and was back to his normal complexion. His facial features had gotten more pointed, more aristocratic, handsome even (though in Hermione’s personal opinion objectively handsome). Even in the dim light of her wand, she could still see his cool greyish eyes.
“Done staring at me, Granger?” Draco asked, his lips lifting just a little when Hermione looked away from him.
“S-sure,” the war heroine cleared her throat before finding her voice again. “I don’t mind.”
Hermione watched as Draco walked over to sit next to her. She lifted a brow when he sunk down and took his bag off of his shoulder and laid it down next to him. Draco then used a long leg and bent it towards him, letting his elbow rest causally against his knee while letting his other leg lay flat.
“It’s going to get cold in here soon,” Draco mentioned casually after a few moments of quiet that settled between them.
Hermione shivered again when she could feel herself starting to slowly get cold. “Do you get cold, Malfoy?” she asked just as casually, folding her arms closer together against herself.
Draco laughed dryly at her. “I’m used to the cold,” he replied evenly with a shrug of his shoulder.
“Oh,” Hermione says, nibbling her lower lips with her bottom teeth. “How are things?” She asked then.
“You don’t have to make conversation with me if you don’t truly want to, Granger,” Draco told her firmly, using a hand to run it through his hair.
Hermione could feel her face heating up despite the temperature that was starting to cool in the library. He was right, she didn’t have to talk with him if she didn’t want to, but she needed to do something besides just sitting here in the library.
Sighing, Hermione got up from the floor and made her way over to one of the wooden tables and dumped a few books from her bag, hoping that she had packed the one that she was looking for. She did in fact, packed the book that she was looking for. After finding her favorite book, she grabbed a couple of items that were laying around in the library and transfigured them into candles, making the library a little brighter.
“What are you reading?” Draco asked, walking towards the table to sit across from her, going through his own bag.
“Oh, um,” Hermione mumbled as she flipped through the page of her book, wondering if Draco would judge her of her book choices. A loud thud of a book made her look up from her own and lifted a curious brow as she recognized the title of the book. “Is that…”
“The Count of Monte Cristo? Why, yes, Granger it is.” Draco says with a hint of one his smirks again as he settles in with his book before lifting his head to look at her surprised features. “I’ll ask again,” he says, gesturing towards Hermione’s book. “What are you reading?”
It took a few seconds for Hermione to respond, she was still surprised with the book that Draco was reading. Though reading The Count of Monte Cristo does sound a bit like him. Hermione sucked in a slow breath as she lifted the book so that Draco could read the title, blushing when Draco knitted his brows.
“I assume that Weasley is your Mr. Darcy?” Draco asked lightly, looking down at his book.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat on the wooden bench, trying her hardest to avoid Draco’s cool stare. She hoped that she didn’t have to tell anyone about what’s going on with her personal life. It was bad enough that she was always in The Daily Prophet, with Rita Skeeter writing about her choices in outfits or lack there of, or just writing about her in general. She still has not forgiven her when during her fourth year, there was a story of a possible love triangle between Harry Potter and Viktor Krum. Hermione hoped that with blackmailing Rita Skeeter she would leave her be, but ever since the war ended it didn’t stop her from writing about the Golden Girl.
Hermione huffed a breath when Draco cleared his throat to get her out of her rambling thoughts. “I don’t have a Mr. Darcey,” she confesses, turning a page in her book. “Ron and I…” she grips the top of the page of the book. “Are no longer together.”
“Hm.” It was all he said, dropping the subject completely and Hermione was thankful for it.
Hermione could feel her eyes growing heavy a couple of hours later. The words of the Pride and Prejudice were starting to blur, and she couldn’t hold back the yawn that came out of her mouth. After closing the book, she looked down at her watch that she was wearing on her wrist, widening her eyes when she realized that it was nearing three o’ clock in the morning.
“It’s getting late,” Draco comments a few moments later, putting away his book in his bag. “And you are getting cold,” he told her quietly when he looked up at her.
Hermione mentally kicked herself.
Of course he would notice that she was getting cold, she was hoping that she could play it a little bit longer by distracting herself with reading her all time favorite book. “I am not cold,” she lied as she finished cleaning up her area. “I’m just…”
“You need to work on your lying, Granger,” Draco commented with a dry chuckle. “I can give you a few tips if you like?”
Hermione gave him a look and wanted to make a comment but decided against it as she watched him walk further into the library where there would be a few couches. She sighed as she started to follow behind him. She could tell just by looking at his back that his shoulders were tense and his knuckles had turned white with the grip that he was holding on his bag. Was he annoyed? Frustrated? That he ended up in the library the same time as she was? Was he… uncomfortable being in the same room as her?
She did speak highly of him and had even defended him during his trial. Could that be the reason? Granted, ever since starting back at Hogwarts, they had barely spoken to each other and this was the first time in a long time that they each said more words with each other than ever.
Draco sighed heavily as he sat on a long couch after dropping his bag onto the floor next to him, closing his eyes as he leaned his back into the cushions. Hermione stared at him, blinking at the way he just laid there so casually with an arm covering his eyes. He was no longer the lanky boy anymore. He was more slender and broad shouldered, even though he’s only eighteen and probably still has more growing to do. She secretly wonders what he would be like in years to come after Hogwarts.
“You’re staring again,” Draco told her, not even bothering to remove his arm from his eyes, but was smirking at her. “I know that I’m a handsome bloke and all…”
Hermione reached behind her and threw a small pillow towards him in which he had easily caught. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she tells him hotly, sitting down across from him.
“I apologize for staring.” Hermione says to him after a few minutes of them settling in the couches opposite from each other. “It’s just..” she stopped when Draco looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face. “Are you uncomfortable being in the same room as me?” She finally asked after a deep breath.
The curly-haired witch watched the blonde Slytherin poke the inside of his mouth with his tongue, probably trying to figure out how to respond to her sudden question. She took notice of his frame once more, he looks somewhat relaxed but not fully, perhaps he was never able to fully relax since his sixth year, since the war, and since his trial. Her sympathy for him was growing.
“No.” He finally answered, making Hermione jump on the couch at his deep, firm voice. “Actually,” he paused, sighing as he used a hand to run it through his hair. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”
Hermione tilts her head, letting the curls of her hair fall casually over one shoulder. “Oh,” she said. “What about?” She asked carefully.
“I never got to thank you and…” Draco ran a hand through his hair again, making it fall over his face. “Potter for defending me during our trial. You two didn’t have to do that. You both could’ve let me and my parents rot in Azkaban with the other Death Eaters. Yet, you guys didn’t. The only one that spoke against us was Weasel—“ Draco closed his eyes when Hermione scrunched up her nose at him. “Weasley.”
“It was the right thing to do,” Hermione said, feeling her face soften. “You didn’t have a choice. It’s not your fault.” She explained.
“I know that I don’t deserve forgiveness from either of you,” Draco said in a low rumble.
Hermione could feel her chest tighten with Draco’s words. She could see how much it had pained Draco to help the Death Eaters enter Hogwarts, even though he clearly didn’t want to. He was tasked to kill Albus Dumbledore but couldn’t bring himself to do it, allowing Severus Snape to do it instead of him so he wouldn’t carry the burden for the rest of his life.
She understood that he was raised in a way that the Purebloods were superior and that they were better than the Half-bloods, Muggleborns and Muggles themselves. He was raised with hate and not love. His family had defected from the Death Eaters and decided to help end the war, even if it meant putting a target on their back.
Granted, his father was a true follower of the Dark Lord for years until the Battle of Hogwarts, realizing his wrongs and defected along with his wife and son. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were pardoned along with their son for their aid in helping to end the war and for their cooperation with the new Ministry.
Even then, the Malfoys still faced scrutiny in magical Britain. Even though they helped donate gallons and millions of gallons to help rebuild Hogwarts, people were still wary of them. No matter how many charity balls that Narcissa held at the Malfoy Manor to get back in the good graces, there’s still a long way to go before anyone could trust a Malfoy.
Even Draco faced scrutiny when he had returned to Hogwarts as part of his pardon deal. There were days where students felt the need to beat him up, knowing that he couldn’t fight back even though he should’ve. Hermione could remember seeing a few mixers of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs throwing a few punches at him one morning before class before Headmistress Professor McGonagall put a stop to it, taking one-hundred points from those houses and giving each student detention for a month.
Since then, as far as the Gryffindor witch knew, she hasn’t seen another fight in which she was glad. Draco didn’t deserve it. She remembers writing to Harry and Ron about what’s happening at Hogwarts and to Draco. Harry was showing sympathy towards the blonde Slytherin, hoping that things would change soon. Ron… was difficult, still believing that Draco got what was coming to him. She decided then that it was best to only write to Harry when talking about Draco.
“I…” Hermione paused, taking a deep breath while curling her hand into a fist. “Forgive you, Mal…Draco.”
Draco’s grey eyes widened in surprise at the use of his first name and ran a hand down his face. “Are you sure?” He asked, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“You can detect lies can’t you?” Hermione asked with a roll of her eyes. “I do forgive you, Draco.” She says in a quiet voice.
Grey eyes meet brown eyes as the blonde Slyherin and the curly-haired witch stared at each other for a few moments. It was Hermione who broke away from his stare, feeling herself shiver and it wasn’t from the coldness of the library this time. “Have you spoken to Harry?” She asked, breaking the silence.
“I wrote him a letter a week ago,” Draco says with a sigh. “I haven’t heard anything—“
“He will!” Hermione interrupted, walking towards him from the couch. “He will respond to you,” she says, dropping in front of him on her knees and grabbing hold of one of his hands. “I know Harry. He’s my best friend and he will forgive you. I know he will.” She promised.
Even in the shadows of the library, Hermione could’ve sworn she saw a hint of color on Draco’s pale face as the two looked down at their joined hands and Hermione quickly withdrew her hand from his. “I apologize,” she tells him with a small blush that formed on her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to touch you.”
Draco pushed back his hair with his hand. “It’s fine,” he tells her, clearing his throat. “We should… um… get some sleep.”
Hermione nodded and dusted her knees off as she got up from the floor and went back to the couch opposite him. She bit the inside of her cheek while she grabbed a few cushions to make it more comfortable for her to sleep on. “The door won’t open until morning, correct?” Hermione asked as she settled down on the couch, turning to face Draco who was looking at her with an unreadable expression.
“Yes.” He answered simply. “And then hopefully this will never happen again.”
“Being locked inside the library?” Hermione asked with a small laugh. “I can’t believe I let that happen,” she says with a groan. “I’m such an idiot.”
“That’s what happens when you study too much.” Draco teases with a snort.
“I’m sorry, but weren’t you the one that was studying as well?” Hermione asked with a huff.
“I don’t study like you.” Draco points out with a roll of his eyes. “I know when to stop and take breaks.”
It was Hermione’s turn to roll her own eyes at him. “I just have ambition.”
“I’m assuming you have big plans after graduating from this school?” Draco asks, scratching his cheek with a finger. “Knowing you… you have at least a few.”
“If you must know,” Hermione says, reaching behind her to smooth out the cushions that were surrounding her. “I plan to go to university overseas.”
“What’s a university?” Draco asked curiously with a small hum of interest.
Hermione turned onto her back and pulled her bottom lip with her teeth. “Well, it’s a higher education system institution that offers different higher degrees.” She says to him, staring up at the high ceilings.
“Do only Muggles attend these… universities?” Hermione hears Draco ask slowly.
“The one that I’m going to attend is just starting to accept magical students. To the Muggle world it’s an exchange program to further their education.”
“Hm.” Was all Draco said to her, not saying anything else.
“Just hm?” Hermione quipped, turning her head to stare at him. “Can’t tell if that’s a good ‘hm’ or a bad ‘hm’.”
“We should sleep.” Draco tells her with a yawn, covering it with his hand, but he was smirking at her afterwards.
“Right.” Hermione says, turning on her back again, moving around to get herself comfortable on the couch. “Sleep well, Draco.” She says softly, saying his first name for the third time that evening.
“Sleep well,” a pause. “Hermione.”
When Hermione awoke the next morning, she quickly turned to her side to see the other couch empty with cushions stacked up neatly and the couch smoothed out as if Draco had never slept in it last night. The only thing that was out of place was a small roll of parchment that lay neatly on the couch.
Hermione knitted her brows, yawning as she fixed her messy curly hair as she walked over to pick it up and unrolled it. On the parchment was neat handwriting and she smiled as she read the note that Draco had left for her to read.
Thank you, for last night, and for your forgiveness. Perhaps you are right about Potter and that I will have his too.
See you around… Hermione Granger.
Also, please learn how to take breaks in between studying so you won’t end up locking yourself in the library again.
And another thing, you will do great things at that university.
Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy