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Forgiven	By : Tassanaburrfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 18105 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned Harry Potter or the books or contents. This work is purely for my own pleasure, no profit to be made.

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He led her out onto the dance floor and pulled her into a slow, steady dance. In the back of his mind, Draco couldn’t believe his luck. While he hated to admit that his mother had been right, he was astounded by how easy this evening was going. Perhaps before the night was over, he would be able to catch a kiss? Maybe even a date?
He glanced down at the witch in his arms and smiled as she looked back up at him. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What do you find so funny?” she questioned. “You’re not planning to have a go at me later on, are you?”
Both of his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Have a go at you?” he nearly stammered. The blond boy shook his head. “Merlin’s beard, Granger! If I wanted to have a go at you, I wouldn’t ask to dance with you.” His face softened once more into a smile. “I’m just glad you agreed to dance with me.”
She continued to eye him for a moment as they made their way around the dance floor. He turned her, letting her move away from him before pulling her back closer to him. “So,” he said as the song changed to another. Thankfully, the pace of the song was still slow and, apparently, Granger hadn’t noticed, “how have you been? I know you and Weasel are dating, but surely that isn’t all your life has come to?”
“What do you care how my life has become?” she asked as he turned her again.
He shrugged slightly. “I haven’t seen you since my father’s trail, honestly, and I’ve been curious.”
“Well, if you had deigned to return to school, you would have known,” she pointed out, giving him a hard look. “Professor McGonagall had allowed those who wished it to return and complete our studies. And, well, when we weren’t learning, we were helping to put the school back in order.”
He nodded and pulled her close again. “I had no desire to return to that school. Too many memories.”
“Too many mistakes,” she corrected, giving him a smug look.
His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “Yes,” he growled, “that and I finished all my classes. Defense Against the Dark Arts had been rubbish my final year, but that had been expected. The rest of the classes when by fine and I managed to score well on my N.E.W.T.s, despite the travesties that had occurred. I didn’t feel there was a need to return to that god awful place. Besides, didn’t the school receive the donations my family and I had made towards the rebuild?”
“I forgot. As a pureblood, you were able to return what was to be all of our 7^th year. Blaise had told me of it, though he also said he had had a hard time focusing during that year,” she said as she let him guide her into another twirl.
He sniffed. “Zabini? I wasn’t aware he had returned. Though, that doesn’t surprise me. No doubt since I wasn’t there, he made Head Boy.”
“Actually,” she interrupted, looking a little sad. “Because of how the previous year had gone, no one from our class had been allowed to be either Head Boy or Head Girl. For one, there simply wasn’t enough of us that had returned. Also, it would have been unfair to those who were a grade below us. And you? What makes you think you would have been Head Boy?”
He offered her a small smirk. “Because I was,” he told her with a shrug. “There had been some debate over allowing it because of how I had botched the Dark Lord’s plans, but Snape wanted it. Said I deserved it with my grades. Not sure how he managed to convince the Dark Lord to allow it, but I had no complaints. There was some lament that you weren’t able to be Head Girl, though. Course, I think it was more mockery than actual grief.”
“Mockery?!” she spat. “I made better scores than you, Malfoy! I spent more time in the library than anyone else in that school. In fact…”
He held a hand up in surrender to cut her off. “I know, Granger,” he said, maintaining his calmness. “I did not say I mocked you. Most of the time, I just kept my mouth shut. I was grateful to be given the position I had been given and I wasn’t about to argue with anyone over what should have been.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” she continued. “I heard that after the stint you pulled on the Astronomy Tower, Voldemort barely gave your family the time of day. And he took your father’s wand.”
His eyes hardened again. “Watch it, Granger,” he warned softly. “What happened that night and the time that hypocritical bastard stayed in my home is in the past. You don’t know everything, therefore it would be wise to keep your trap shut. The Malfoy name had been cleared and since then, we’ve donated more to charity than any other wizarding family in all of Britain. And we continue to pay our dues without any hesitation.”
“Only because you have no choice,” she jabbed.
Perhaps his mother hadn’t been right after all, he thought to himself. With his hands on Granger’s waist, it would be so easy to slip his hands around her skinny little neck and just squeeze. Weaselbreath wasn’t around, so the Slytherin did not really fear repercussions, at least not until the rest of the party goers began to take notice. Then again, he could almost hear his mother’s words of reprimand if he harmed the little Mudblood. He needed to find a quick change of topic before he decided to carry out his diabolical scheme of putting a ring around Granger’s throat.
“So, how is Zabini? Or do you speak to him now that school is complete?” he asked, hoping she’d pick up his change of topic and go with it.
Thankfully she did. “I wouldn’t really know,” she said honestly. “Blaise and I were never really friends, though of the Slytherins, I would say I got on with him better than the others. Well, him and Theo.”
“Nott?” he questioned in disbelief as he led her through a fast foxtrot. “I didn’t think he would ever have it in him to even speak with a Mud… Muggleborn,” he quickly corrected, his eyes snapping to her as he hoped she didn’t catch his flub. She had, but she didn’t comment on it. He licked his lips.
She raised a single eyebrow. “Yes, well, it was a bit difficult not to speak with them when you saw them every morning and evening in the Common Room,” she told him. At his further surprise, she decided to elaborate, “There were so few of us that had returned and there really wasn’t enough space in our Houses for us and the new arrivals. Professor McGonagall had sectioned off a separate part of the castle to house the ‘8^th years’. It did not really matter our House, all of us, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and the Slytherins shared a Common Room together. The girls had one dorm and the boys had the other. It was a bit awkward at times, but overall, we managed to get along the best we could. I think the main focus was for us to study and pass our N.E.W.T.s more than anything.”
“Who returned from Gryffindor?” he asked, trying to hold down his bile.
Granger shrugged. “Along with myself? Neville was there, as was Dean Thomas. Seamus Finnigan also returned, though he didn’t stay too long, ended up dropping out. I was the only girl of the Gryffindors.”
He immediately noticed the sudden change in her demeanor. Like she had done when she mentioned the Dark Lord in his ancestral home, Draco knew he had hit a sore spot with her. He suddenly found himself at a loss for words as he didn’t quite know how to comfort her, or even if she would be receptive of such a thing.
They remained quiet for a while, as Draco moved her through the rest of the foxtrot and fluidly changed into a waltz. He nearly growled. “Don’t these people know how to play something else?” he found himself saying in irritation.
Granger giggled, catching him off guard. She pressed a few dainty fingers to her lips. “Perhaps they want to make sure we can keep up?” she suggested.
He felt the tension between them levitate some and he rolled his eyes before casting her a rather sardonic smile. “Yes, well, they must be wanting to ensure the other dancers can keep up. I had the best dance teachers as a child and can perform any dance,” he chimed rather arrogantly.
“Oh really?” she challenged. “I bet I know a few dances you cannot do, or at the very least wouldn’t consent to do with a Muggleborn.”
He raised a single eyebrow. “Try me,” he dared.
She stopped their dance and pulled him to the side. “Wait here,” she told him as she slipped out of his hands.
At first, he took a step to follow her before he realized she was moving towards the band. He watched in amazement as she seemed to whisper something into the conductor’s ear before she made her way back to him. He wasn’t sure what to make of seeing her purposely walk towards him and silently prayed no one would try to ruin it.
Her smile was dazzling as she approached him. “I spoke to the conductor,” she told him. He nodded, having seen this as she continued, “They’ll be playing a salsa dance next. You do salsa, correct?”
His smirk turned mischievous as he stepped closer to her and slipped his hands around her waist. “I also know how to tango,” he whispered into her ear.
He felt her hand rest on his shoulder as he pulled her back onto the dance floor to finish their waltz. The pit of his stomach was in knots as they continued to dance. As the waltz died away, Draco and Granger met one another’s eyes with similar impish, exciting looks. The moment the next song began, their dance began.
(II)(II)
Draco raised the two glasses from the bar and handed one of them to the witch. They smiled at one another as she lifted the glass she had been given to her lips and took a sip. Draco’s smile widened as he watched her close her eyes and seem to savor the flavor.
“So, now that school is finished, what…” he straightened his throat. “What do you intend to do with yourself?”
She looked at him curiously, as though trying to figure him out, or trying to figure out how to answer him. He wasn’t certain, but he kept his own expression cool and genuinely curious. After all, if his mother had anything to say about it, this was to be his future wife and it would do well for him to know her ambitions.
She licked her lips and leaned against the counter as she tilted her head in a clear “thinking” manner. “Well, if I were in the Muggle World, I suppose I would attend university. Perhaps gain some sort of doctorate in whatever profession,” she said contemplatively. “Though since I’ve not the inclination to even attempt such a lifestyle, I suppose I’ll apprentice with someone.”
He raised his eyebrows a bit at that. “Any idea what you wish to study?” he asked, his mind quickly going over possible branches she could go into. Honestly, the woman had been an outright genius in Hogwarts. No doubt she could become anything she wanted to.
Her eyes gazed away from him and he followed the trail of her eyesight. He became confused as he realized she was watching a house elf carry a tray of drinks. He turned his attention back to her to see that her eyes continued to follow the little elf as it weaved through the various party goers.
“I’m not entirely sure,” she whispered carefully. She gave a small sigh. Prying her eyes from the house elf to look at the Slytherin, she gave a small huff. “Actually, I was thinking of continuing a project I had started during our second year. Now that I’m older, focusing on my research should be easier. I’m sure I can get a job in the Ministry with the Department of Magical Creatures.”
He blinked at that as his brows furrowed further. “The Department of Magical Creatures?” he questioned. He thought for a moment. “Are you still on about that hippogriff?”
She made a disgusted face as she took another sip of her drink. “Leave it to you to think of that of all things. That happened in our third year, in case your mind has become cloudy with dates,” she snapped. “Though, now that I think about it, working for better rights for our magical beasts wouldn’t be remiss. No. I was thinking more about house elves. In particular, honoring Dobby.”
It was his turn to make a face. “Dobby? My father’s old elf? What’s he to do…”
“Everything!” she hissed, placing her glass upon the bar behind her. “House elves, and all magical creatures, deserve to be treated fairly and as equals. Honestly, it’s so difficult for any magical being to gain fair employment or equal pay or rights.”
“House elves don’t care about pay or rights,” he argued. “They’re more than happy to serve, it’s what they live for.” He saw her flare up, but he cut her off, “I remember the project you speak of, Granger. I saw the buttons you had made. Spew? Or something of that nature? I also know you tried to free several of the Hogwarts house elves, as if they’d want it. Dobby was an oddity among house elves and any house elf given a parcel of clothing would be distraught.”
“Perhaps he wouldn’t have been an oddity if your father had taken better care of him,” she retorted. “I never saw any of it myself, but Harry saw more than enough. Besides…”
“Yes. Go by what Saint Potter says because he never utters a single biased syllable,” he snarled, putting his own glass on the counter. “Neither of you know what went on in my home, yet you’re quick to judge.”
Perhaps he was going too far, but he didn’t care. He was tired of the constant criticism of his family. “Just so you know, Dobby had been a problem since the day he was born. He never was a proper house elf, always wanting something. Always asking for something. My father was nearly at his wits’ end with the little bastard.”
“He wasn’t a bastard!” she argued. “He was a good elf. He saved our lives more than once, and he never asked for anything in return. He deserved to be treated better, like a person, an individual.”
“Oh, he was treated like an individual alright. Father made sure he received everything he deserved,” he spat.
She took a step back, indignant. “How dare you!” she screeched.
“So, you intend to free all the house elves, then?” he questioned.
She glared at him. “I intend to make sure the house elves get the proper care and treatment they need. They will not be bullied or abused by the likes of anyone, including ‘ancient pureblood families’.”
“Oh cry me a river, Granger,” he jeered. “Think of who you’re speaking of for a moment there! I had known that bloody creature since I was an infant. We’d even played together.”
“More like you taunted him,” she interrupted. “And when you were finished, your father…” Her words faltered as he stepped closer to her.
He knew his anger reflected in his eyes. His entire body was tense and he wanted nothing more than to choke her where she stood. “Finish that sentence,” he growled lowly. “I dare you.”
She shoved him away from her. “You can’t intimidate me, Malfoy,” she yelled. “I’m not afraid of a cowardly ferret such as yourself.”
All he had to do was reach up, wrap his fingers around that scrawny little neck of her and give it a quick twist. It wouldn’t take much, and he silently wagered he could do it quicker than anyone would notice. “Did my aunt manage to kill the little prick? Last I saw, she had thrown a dagger at him. Did she make contact?”
The little Mudblood was quick, he’d give her that, but he was faster. He caught her wrist midair and squeezed it. His eyes became glacial as they narrowed. Lifting his other hand, he held up a single finger. “One shot, witch,” he warned. “You only get one.”
She lifted her other hand, but he caught that one, too, and forced them to her sides. “Let go of me, Malfoy!” she screamed as she struggled against him.
He practically threw her away from him and she fell against Potter. Great! That was just what he needed.
“What the bloody hell is going on here?!” the be-speckled boy demanded, taking his wand out and pointing it at Draco.
Could this night get any worse? “We were merely having a difference of opinion, Potter,” Draco said, trying to calm his nerves. “Nothing to concern yourself with.”
Potter’s eyes narrowed as he glared at the Slytherin. “Somehow I doubt that,” he spat. Holding Granger, the Boy Who Lived, looked down at his friend. “Are you alright, Hermione?”
She nodded as she straightened up. “It’s as he said, Harry,” she confirmed. “We were merely having a disagreement and…” She looked to be fighting with her words for a moment before she continued, “We both took it a bit too far. It was…” She stood up straight and looked at Draco. “A mistake. That’s all.”
A part of Draco was actually surprised she had actually agreed with him. Though he couldn’t help but wonder what it was, exactly, that had been a mistake. Though the outward appearance suggested their petty argument over nonsensical things like house elf rights, Draco was a Slytherin and, naturally, looked deeper into the words spoken. Was she speaking of their dance? He said nothing, folding his arms in front of his chest and leaning against the bar.
Potter looked at Granger, as if trying to discern if she was being completely honest or not. Did they have issues with truthfulness? Draco filed this tidbit of information away for later thought as he stood there with a carefully placed look of disinterest.
“All right,” Potter relented as he lowered his wand. He looked back at Draco. “If you’ve had your fill of dancing with her, I’d like to take her back to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They’ll be leaving soon and wished to give Hermione a good night.”
Draco waved a hand of indifference. “That’s fine, Potter. I wasn’t aware anyone needed my permission to take the tart anywhere, but I care not. This party bores me anyway and I was getting ready to take my own leave.”
Both Gryffindors looked at him in surprise, as though unable to decide what to make of his words. Unable to take their looks of shock and suspicion anymore, Draco gave Potter a short bow before stepping up to Granger. She flinched, but did not back away from him. With a slight smirk, he took her hand into his and brought it up to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand lightly, staring into her eyes as he did so. “It’s been a pleasure, Granger,” he purred. “Perhaps we should do this again sometime? Minus, of course, the disagreements.”
She stared at him for a moment before her lips turned upward into a grin. “Oh, Malfoy, I believe any sort of meeting with you would end in disagreement,” she murmured.
“Then I look forward to it,” he said, standing up straight. “Speaking with you, even if it’s in disagreement, is quite invigorating, I’ve found. I do hope you both have a lovely evening.”
With that, he released her hand, turned on his heel, and did his best not to stalk out. As he lifted his wand to Disapparate, Draco couldn’t help but feel an intense desire to throttle something.

Author's Note: So, I had another idea for this chapter and had spent a great deal of time writing it. When I read what I wrote, I decided that the characters I was writing weren't the Draco and Hermione I wanted. So, I scrapped it and wrote this instead. I hope you all enjoyed it. There's more to come for certain, obviously.
@HarryGinny4eva: What do you think of my Hermione? Haven't decided if I'm going to deviate from Draco's POV yet or not, but I found it's a bit more interesting like this, don't you? Oh! And just so you know, I'm a Harry/Ginny fan too! They'll never be with anyone else in my stories.
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Forgiven