Greengrass

~3~

After breakfast, Daphne and her friends walked back to the common room together. Malfoy and Hermione stayed behind. For once, Hermione didn't know what to do, so she just sat stiffly in her seat and tried to look like she wasn't as anxious as she felt. Malfoy moved from his spot across from her and sat beside her, keeping a respectable distance. She shivered inwardly. The last time she was close to him was when his deranged aunt carved into her like a pumpkin. She absentmindedly rubbed the scar through her jumper.

It never faded.

Hermione looked up when Malfoy cleared his throat. He looked uncomfortable and apologetic, something she hadn't seen on his face since that day.

 "I want to apologize for my actions over the years. I was cruel and borderline evil and nothing can truly make up for it. I apologized to Potter over the summer after my father..." His breath hitched in his throat as he waved his hand dismissively. "Well, I'm sure you've heard. It was difficult, and I didn't know if I would ever get the chance to apologize to you. I don't know how to make it up to you, and I don't expect you to forgive me. I just wanted to make it clear to you how sorry I am. I know the timing probably seems suspicious, now that the truth of your lineage is out to the public, but I assure you that your blood has nothing to do with me sitting here today." 

Hermione met his eyes. For years, she had thought that his eyes were blue, but up close she could see that they were a stormy grey color. His hair wasn't as pale a blonde as she was used to seeing either. It was always platinum, or at least she thought it was. She could see now that it was light blonde, but not the white color she had always seen it to be. He had a hard jaw and his nose was somewhat pointy. 

The thing she found odd about his face, though, wasn't the differences between what she once thought and what she now knew. Malfoy was the same age as her, both 18, and the major difference she noticed was that his face was smooth, almost like it was sculpted. She wasn't saying he looked perfect, or that he looked like a god. He had no lines, no crows feet in the corner of his eyes, no laugh lines near his nose and mouth.

Nothing.

He was a blank canvas. Had he ever smiled? A real smile and not the malicious smirks she was used to him giving. A pang of pity shot through her heart before she covered it with a small cough.

"What made you want to apologize after all this time?" She asked instead.

He shifted in his seat. "You might think it sounds like an excuse, but I didn't dare to broach the subject with my father around." He looked up at her questioning look and continued. "My father served as a filter for my whole life. I'm not sure if you've heard of the Malfoy family motto, but it is 'Purity will always conquer.' My father made it his mission to make me exactly like him; prejudiced, ruthless, obedient. His hard work paid off and eventually I was just a smaller Lucius Malfoy. Only through my mother was I able to view things from a different perspective. While my father valued the quality of one's blood, she valued the quality of their character. When he was sent away, I was finally able to fully embrace the things I had previously hidden or pushed away. It's thanks to her that I was able to come back and finish my education, but it's also thanks to you."

The last part surprised her. "Me?" She asked. 

 Malfoy nodded. "I know you and Potter spoke up for my mother and I during our family's trial. Potter vouched for me in his own way, stating I was too cowardly to ever take someone's life and would probably never do it. You said you thought everyone had good in them and everyone deserved a second chance. The Wizengamot took Potter's word positively, but with yours added onto it... they said that if the Brightest Witch of Her Age thinks I deserve another chance, a muggle born at that,  then she must be right."