Begin Again - Dramione

Realisations

"No evil dooms us hopelessly except the evil we love, and desire to continue in, and make no effort to escape from. "
― George Elliot

Hermione's POV

The eerie silvery glow of the penseive lit the whole room. As I tiptoed towards it, my eyes focused on the swirling hazy images popping on the surface every now and then, blending into one another, I couldn't really make sense of what was going on. The memory seemed to have been played over and over again, so much that it had become quite hazy- as if the bearer had started to question its authenticity.

Turning away, I almost had a stroke when my eyes landed on the slumbering figure of Malfoy, sprawled out on the couch. His eyes were closed, forehead clear of the constant frown and his mouth relaxed from the ever present scowl that seemed to have been etched onto his face.

For a long moment, I stood there facing Malfoy; my hand still clutching my chest- as my heart slowly began to slow down to a normal pace. There were a lot of things about this guy that intrigued me to no end. Ever since his return to Hogwarts, I had been drawn towards him. This seemed to be a rather incredulous fact in itself.

Silently, I walked to the rocking chair which sat near the glowing ambers of the fireplace and dropped into it tiredly. What was it about him that felt so different? I pondered still. Maybe it was his appearance. Sure, he still had that shockingly blonde mop of hair- but it wasn't gelled into perfection anymore.

Instead, the locks almost covered his entire forehead and eyes. Sometimes, it appeared to act like a shield, blocking the path to his icy orbs. As if he was purposely trying to hold back anyone from witnessing the tumultuous uproar of emotions that swirled behind his eyes, streamed in his veins and beat a frantic tattoo against his ribs.

Or maybe it was his calm demeanor? Was it me or had Malfoy actually grown a pair and realized how immature and prejudiced he'd been all his life? Perhaps he had. I mean, he hadn't called me a "Mudblood" in all this time that we've been spending together, I mused.

I was pulled out of my thoughts abruptly by the sudden increase in the lighting. Startled, I looked up to see Malfoy awake and sitting on the couch, his hair still messy and all over the place.

Embarrassed, blood rushed to my cheeks and I launched into a nervous stutter, "S-s-sorry, I d-didn't see you h-here. I was just g-going to t-take these notes and l-leave. I really didn't-"

"Granger..."

"Really, Malfoy.. I mean Draco.. I mean Draco Malfoy, Oh God-"

"Granger listen.."

"..It's been a long day and I know you must be t-tired and well I'm kind of tired too and it's just all too much.."

"GOD DAMNIT HERMIONE WILL YOU SHUT YOUR TRAP FOR A MINUTE?"

Silence.

To say I was stunned would be the understatement of the year. As I stared, my eyes as wide as tea saucers, with my jaw lying open somewhere on the mushy carpet, Malfoy seemed to be struggling to breathe. It kind of looked comical with the both of us staring each other down with such dramatic expressions on our faces. As if realizing this, he slowly averted his gaze as I shut my hanging mouth.

And then we both sighed.

"Sorry.." I spoke timidly, just to break the heavy silence. I had been left alone in the same room with Malfoy many times in the past, and every silence that I could remember was either caused due to exhaustion after having insulted each other to within an inch of our lives or caused by my cleverly cast Silencing Charms.