To Me, From Me // DHr ✔️

o n e

It was only the second month back to Hogwarts for Hermione Granger as an honorary eighth year and she is already sick of it. Don't ask her why because she doesn't have an answer, but she largely suspects it's because out of the three that made up the Golden Trio, she was the only one who decided to come back and finish her schooling, leaving her alone while Ron and Harry are out training to become Aurors. Maybe it's also the sickening special treatment she's been on the receiving end of since the tabloids have proclaimed her a war hero (she did find it amusing how quick the bookworm insults turned to bookworm praises in a matter of minutes though) Maybe it was due to the shocking normalcy of it all – how after 7 years of struggling to stay alive, she can finally stop and breathe. Hermione didn't like how she didn't like being able to breathe. Wasn't a break all she's ever wished for during their miserable horcrux hunting days? She really, truly didn't get it. Something was definitely missing in her life.

Hermione came through the Great Hall for breakfast with her attention cut in half – one in the book she's reading and the other where she's going. It wasn't long before she inevitably bumped into something, or in this case, someone.

"Sorry, sorry, wasn't really paying attention to-" She bent down to pick up her dropped book but immediately stopped mid-sentence once she looked up to find a pair of stormy grey eyes looking back at her. Hermione quickly got up and straightened her posture, even going as far as to raising her chin ever so slightly, while keeping eye contact with the Malfoy heir who, much to her great surprise, simply just walked past her.

Strange. She's just noticed Malfoy walking amongst them, which was weird because surely the Malfoy she grew up with loved making a spectacle of himself. Now that she thought about it, she hasn't heard him say anything, not even in class. Draco Malfoy has become a recluse. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

"'Mione!"

Hermione snapped out of her momentary lapse and looked towards the source of the voice that called out her name. She found the Gryffindor table in no time and sat in her usual seat squished between Ginny and Neville and opposite Dean and Seamus.

"Have you guys noticed Malfoy lately?" She asked as she filled her plate. "I just realized I haven't heard a thing from him since we got back."

Ginny piped in. "Heard? I didn't even know he was back until I saw him for the first time two days ago." She nudged Hermione then subtly tilted her head towards the Slytherin table. "Sucks being on the losing side of war, huh?"

It was only then that Hermione really looked around and observed the lack of Slytherins sitting in their table. Not a lot came back for their eighth year and she saw that there weren't that many first years as well. No one was speaking with each other and most of their heads were lowered, especially the older ones. If it weren't for the fact that these people wanted, and probably still want, her dead, her heart would've been bleeding for them.

"It's not only them, you know? Remember how the Sorting went this year? No parent wants to send their children here. Too dangerous with all the Death Eater spawn allowed back in." Dean whispered. Hermione didn't miss the unanimous involuntary flinch everyone in their table gave at the mention of the group of dark wizards.

In an effort to lighten the mood, he hastily added, "Hey, at least Quidditch is still alive." It seemed to work, because the conversation jumped straight into the sport causing Hermione to effectively tune it out with a loud sigh that was meant to interrupt whatever her friends were talking about but ultimately failed.

She was about to pull out her book and start reading again when an unfamiliar owl gracefully landed in front of her, a letter in its beak.

"Ooh, who's it from, 'Mione?" Ginny asked through a mouth full of food. "Bet you it's from Tweedledum and Tweedledumber." She snickered along with the rest. Well, at least Hermione knew that her efforts in making Muggle literature be more appreciated in her Wizarding group of friends didn't go to waste.

Hermione glanced at the sender's name, shook her head then held up the letter for her friends to see. "From me."