Nox | Dramione

Chapter 3: Remark(able)

Hermione's POV

Classes were canceled today. Rumour has it that there was an issue with the current Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher, and all the Professors had to have a meeting in regards to her.

 The changes hadn't mattered much, it only meant that I had more time to concentrate on my potions homework. It was late morning - Malfoy hadn't gotten out of bed yet, surprisingly. Spending a few days with him, you begin to pick up on some of his habits. And sleeping late was not a habit of his.

I was sitting in the heads common room; it was extremely cold. The wind howled swiftly against the windows beside the fireplace, the fire was burning orange, the smell of lavender had freshened up the room.

I put my books away and placed a piece of parchment and ink on the table.

 It was time I plucked up the courage and decided to write to Ronald.

Dear Ronald,

I hope you are well, you must be extremely busy with Auror training - but I'm sure you're doing fine. Everybody has been questioning as to where you and Harry are, but we've assured them that you both are preparing to help the community, in one way or another. I've seen from the Daily Prophet that you've been heading out late - I do hope it hasn't impacted your work. 

I have to go, I'll write to you soon.

Love, Hermione.

As I finished writing,  the door that leads to Malfoy's room opened, revealing his muscular, shirtless figure. His hair was messy, his eyes closed, rubbing them open.

I cleared my throat, hoping to signal that I was in the room. His hands fell from his face, and a smirk was placed on it once he had sight of me admirin- staring at him.

"Good morning, Granger. Late for class?" He smirked, walking towards the bathroom that was next to my room.

"Certainly not. Classes were canceled today." I replied, turning back to the parchment and books that were placed on the table. He had stopped walking and turned to me.

"I believe we should start my lessons today, if you're happy with that, Granger." His smirk had turned into a smile.

"I believe so. Perhaps after your shower?" I asked, looking away from the boy who was all smiles.

"With pleasure." He smirked, I looked towards him once more. His grey orbs seem to light up when he smirks or smiles, the swift gesture of his hands caressing his atomic blond hair, his lips, oh how wonderful they are. With that, he winked, turning around just in time before he saw how red my cheeks had gone.

As much as I hate to admit it, he is truly stunning.

Hermione! Ronald is your boyfriend, keep your eyes off Malfoy! The small voice yelled inside my head. Right, must keep my head tightly screwed on. He is Draco Malfoy, nothing about one another attracts either of you.

Draco's POV

Once I had seen how bright red her cheeks had become, I turned around heading toward the lavatory. I closed the door and looked into the mirror. My eyes were droopy, I began to wash my face with cold water, images of Granger began to pop in my head.

The way her cheeks flushed when she had seen me shirtless, when she smiled at me once I had told her about tutoring. She wasn't what she was before. She is much more mature, somewhat more attractive. If I say so myself, she is definitely the most attractive girl in school.

Once my eyes opened, the thought of how I just complimented Granger made me question myself.

"Did I really just compliment her?" I asked, I shook my head. I turned the water on in the shower, stepping in. The warm water began to consume my thoughts, consume my memories. 

My eyes wandered to my arm where the dark mark had faintly removed itself. The terrible tragedies of the past began to flood my mind. The anger began to overwhelm me, the sadness of what I had done. The thought of being weak. The thought of choosing the so-called stronger side. I was wrong, completely. I should've never taken the easy option. But I was weak. 

I will always be weak.

After ten minutes of standing in the shower, analysing the tragedy that is my life, I decided to head out.

 I ran my hand through my hair and let the darkness consume me, my eyes shut as I began to let out the tears. The tears weren't of self-pity, but the simple fact that I had let other people tell me what is right for my life, this lead me to do things I never wanted to, things I never thought I was capable of doing. 

I was partially the reason why so many students and teachers had died in the war. And because of people's mindset overclouding my own judgment, Hermione will never think of me as a good person. For a good reason, also.

I decided to turn the tap off, changing into some warm clothes. I looked into the mirror and saw someone completely different from what I did fifteen minutes ago. I saw the loathed creature that everyone despises. 

With one final look, I walked out of the bathroom.

She was still positioned on the couch, her books now piling on top of one another. Her eyes wandered to mine, she looked at me with a look I have never seen before. 

Pity? Fear? 

I sat beside her, space-filling the gap between us. Her eyes were still placed on mine.

"Have you been crying?" She asked, her voice sounded soft and full of emotion. My eyes wandered to my mark, which was covered by my sweater. I looked up to her with a smirk, only this time it had been forced.

"I don't cry, Granger," I replied, looking at her and back down at the ground. She placed her hand on my knee, we were both shocked by her sudden movement, yet she hadn't moved her hand.

"You don't have to pretend with me, Malfoy. Your façade can be brought down when you're with me. There's no need to hide." She said, the softness of her voice hadn't changed. Not one bit.

I looked at the ground and caressed my arm gently.

"Does it hurt?" She began, I looked up at her in confusion. "Your mark. Does it hurt?" She questioned once more, her voice sounded of confusion.

"Rarely. Now, can we begin?" I asked, sounding a little annoyed by her sudden affection. She removed her hand from my knee and placed it on the book.

"If you ever need to talk, about anything. You can come to me. We all have stories that make us who we are. You don't have to be ashamed by your one." She replied. And with that, the conversation between us was now, all about work. 

We finished after a couple of hours of endless studying and friendly banter. For the remainder of the night we sat on the couch, staring at the fire burning in front of us.

I looked at Hermione with a smile. A genuine smile.

"You're not so bad, Granger," I said, she turned to me, a smile glistening her features.

"You're not so bad yourself, Malfoy." 

And with that, the night had turned darker and the sound of the wind howling faded, and in that moment, the only thing more alive than the burning fire, roaring in front of them, was the new-found chemistry between the once, arch enemies.

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