Forget About It (Dramione)

19| Here's To New Beginnings...

But for now, Draco didn't have to think about that. Not about how she stormed out, how she'd been right about him betraying her, and about how much of an ass he was. Now, he only had to look at her, right now in the present, her chocolate brown eyes soaking up the parchment. The room creaked around them as if it were alive, but she didn't notice. Her gaze was set on the book in the same way it always was, finding beauty in the gaps between the words and power in the inky scribbles.

And right now, Hermione could feel him looking. His eyes were lasers, crashing into her skin and tearing it apart. Something made her ignore it, though. Perhaps she didn't want to look up to meet his gaze. 

"Hermione," he said after a few moments of silence. The room was silent for a second as if it were watching the two of them. She finally looked up. She had to tutor him, after all, just like she'd said. 

"Yes?"

He looked surprised that she'd answered him civilly and not flown off the handle. "Where can you find wormwood?" 

"It's just a plant, Malfoy, but usually found in dense forest areas. They have a lot of it in Russia, but you can still find it around here and most of Europe," she answered without missing a beat. The word 'Malfoy' still stung Draco when it came from her. 

"Thanks," he answered dully. She still hadn't looked up, as if she were afraid to look him straight in the eyes. Hermione's pen scratched over the thin parchment. 

"You can call me Draco, by the way," he muttered. 

She stopped writing, wary of him. Maybe that was a long shot, but it hadn't taken her long to call him by his first name before. She looked puzzled. "Ok," she said steadily, without looking straight in his eyes. 

He wondered if she'd ever trust him enough to believe he'd lied about obliviating her. Something told him she wouldn't.

.

Hermione wasn't sure what to think. Sure, her meet-ups with Malfoy were not bad, they were oddly familiar, but in a way that made her slightly uncomfortable. She was finally beginning to come to terms with the fact that everything Malfoy had told her about their history was true, but at the same time she was warily trying to avoid repeating it. Every time she looked into his grey, watery eyes, she saw Ron staring back at her and imagined his face, his shock if she ever told him the truth. Ron was her boyfriend now, and being here with Malfoy, even though he knew about it and believed wholeheartedly that she was still on Harry's mission to get information, felt wrong. 

But she didn't feel anything for Malfoy, so why did she feel so weird about it? Their past felt like a dream that she could barely hold onto before it turned to smoke in her hands, and yet the whole setup, the room, the green armchair, her sitting opposite him and watching his limp white hair flop over his forehead; everything felt normal. 

Days turned into weeks, and she began seeing him once again every evening, helping him with menial tasks such as essays, the two of them talking occasionally but Malfoy saying nothing that Harry and Ron could use. 

"Draco," she started one day. She'd started calling him by his first name, despite him remaining 'Malfoy' in her head. 

He looked up at her from his work, a half smile twitching at his lips before he answered, a simple, "Yeah?"

"How did you find this room?" She asked, genuinely curious. 

He shrugged, a danger warning flashing briefly through his mind. It was ok, he told himself. She wasn't getting close. "I dunno. I knew about the Room of Requirement because of you guys using it for Dumbledore's Army last year. And I wanted somewhere secret, for, uh..." he trailed off. "For me and you," he lied quickly. She didn't need to know he'd been coming here all year for the Vanishing Cabinet. "So I walked past it the day Pansy saw us and told the whole school, and it showed me this place."