A Tale of Two Dragons: A Dramione Story

Chapter 13

Hermione lay wide awake in her tent that night, head was swimming with thoughts of their kiss. She couldn't decide if she should be horrified or elated. I kissed Draco Malfoy. I kissed Draco Malfoy and I enjoyed it. Draco Malfoy, former pureblood supremacist, son of prominent Death Eater and Hogwarts nuisance Lucius Malfoy. But then again, Hermione thought, He's his own person. He's not his past and he's not destined for his family's future. I love the Draco in front of me now. Not the one back at Hogwarts.

Hermione turned over in her sleeping bag, placing her hand on the tent wall that separated his tent from hers, imagining how close he really was disregarding the two partitions between them.

She wondered what she would tell Harry and Ginny. Harry, of course, would be revolted. Ginny would laugh because she had predicted it. Of course, they didn't have to know, but Hermione didn't hide secrets. They had seen her in her lowest moments, and kissing Draco wasn't a low moment. It was a moment that produced new possibilities. It created a future.

Hermione took a moment to admire the patronus he had conjured. He had managed a full-bodied corporeal dragon. A very apt patronus, given his name, Hermione thought. She paused, remembering how he had left his wand in the woods. She illuminated her own and stepped outside to find it.

How did we forget to retrieve his wand, Hermione wondered as she scoured the forest floor. It's not something that you casually forget. Hermione smiled, thinking about how they had held hands until they arrived back at their campsite. About how he gave her a brief kiss as they both retired to their respective tents. Perhaps that why we forgot, Hermione thought, pleased with herself.

Hermione's glimpsed a reflection off something in the dark. She bent closer and saw it was Draco's wand. A sleek hawthorn wand stained black and carved into a precise straight line. The only embellishment was a thin white circle delineating the grip from the rest of the wand. This was the wand that made obtaining the elder wand possible for Harry, Hermione thought, remembering that Draco used to be its master until Harry was disarmed.

Upon returning to their campsite, Hermione opened Draco's tent flap as quietly as she could. Draco was asleep and snoring loudly. Hermione stopped, watching him as she took a moment to think about how much she admired his courage to change. How she enjoyed learning from him and teaching him. And, most surprisingly, how all of the hateful conclusions she had hastily drawn about him in her childhood were mostly wrong.

As she was thinking this, both wands she held emitted faint pink sparks. Remembering why she was standing inside Draco's tent, she quietly placed his wand next to his pack and left without even rustling the tent flap.

~~~***~~~

Draco's body still felt like a vibrating bell. Kissing Hermione had been one of the most enchanting things he had ever experienced. No wonder I was able to produce a patronus, Draco thought. I haven't experienced that much innocent joy in a long, long, time.

Draco was stunned that such a kind and courageous person like Hermione Granger could ever love someone like him. I was so mean to her, he reflected. I was mean to her and there was no real reason. I don't know how she managed to overlook that. The non-self-pitying part of his mind told him that Hermione loved the person he was today and didn't see the Death Eater he once was. He knew down inside that he deserved to be seen as someone good because that's who he was now. Is it possible that I can let myself be happy now, he wondered. Am I finally done punishing myself?

~~~***~~~

Draco strode out of his tent the next morning swaggering and beaming. He had even taken a little time to make his hair look as presentable as possible, given the wilderness circumstances. He made a beeline for his luggage and began to brush his teeth.