by Eilime
The surface gleamed tranquilly in the moonlight as a light breeze softly disturbed the dark water. Hermione was standing at the edge of the chilly water, her bathing suit worn underneath the Hogwarts school uniform.
There was something utterly mesmerising about that quiet September night. For Hermione, this was the perfect way to relax. She had just returned to Hogwarts the previous day for her very last year and found all the commotion of settling in again, greeting old friends after the long summer holidays, and the pressure this final year brought along, quite exhausting.
After the Common Room had been depopulated, she had snuck out to get some fresh air and some time for herself.
Discarding her robes, Hermione edged towards the water, her toes meeting the cool liquid. Smiling to herself, she trudged further out into the water and soon plunged headfirst into it, the coolness of it caressing her body as she swam through the water. Relaxed, she surfaced again, swimming around merrily in her sought solitude.
Putting her feet on the soft sand on the bottom, Hermione felt something swim past her calves making her emit a small shriek of surprise. Not being a great fan of mercurial water “ heaven knew what kind of animals resided in the depths of the lake “ Hermione headed back towards the shore. Something glided past her thighs then and she squeaked nervously “ she really didn’t want any slithery animals around her “ getting more panicked by the second. She sped up in her growing need to get on dry land.
Something then touched Hermione on the back, and she realised, panicked, that whatever it was didn’t swim past her but held on. Not knowing what kind of foul creature had its paws, fins, hands, claws, whatever, on her, she screamed only to give free way to the large amount of water that then floated into her mouth, as the creature roughly pulled her under.
As soon as she was under the water, however, the creature let go, and Hermione put her feet firmly on the bottom and pushed upwards. Surfacing, she sputtered out the salty water and inhaled deeply the September air. Coughing like mad, she distantly heard a strange sound from somewhere to her right. Regaining her senses again, she recognised the sound to be laughter and looked around to see Draco Malfoy guffawing at her some meters away.
“That was so much fun!” he exclaimed, crackling merrily.
Even though her throat hurt painfully from the water that had delved into her mouth, Hermione managed to croak, “That was not funny, Malfoy.”
“I have to disagree with you on that one, Mudblood.”
Hermione agreed with herself that she could indeed spare this conversation and continued to trudge towards the shore, her nose held high.
“Aww, come on, muddy,” Malfoy leered from behind her. “Don’t tell me you’re mad at me.”
“Then I have nothing to tell,” she replied without stopping in her attempt to reach the shore.
“You’re not going to hold a grudge against me now, are you?” Malfoy continued cheerily. “And do something really evil and unforeseen like setting fire to my arse and sending my burnt self off to live with a paedophilic Muggle in Transylvania?”
Putting on an unctuous smile, Hermione turned around and alleged, “No, Malfoy. I would never do something like that. Although…” Malfoy cocked an eyebrow, and she continued, “I might be tempted to go Medusa on your arse, ship your petrified self off to Pucara to be displayed as the relic of the stupidity and arrogance the Dark Arts unconsciously conveys and let you be molested by resuscitated Incas. But, of course, that’s implicit.”
“Well, well, well… Aren’t we the little sadist?” Malfoy retaliated.
“Says the person who just tried to drown me,” Hermione shot back.
“Oh, yeah, good times, good times…” he smiled, apparently reminiscing.
Hermione let out a frustrated sigh and turned around, wading angrily through the dark water.
“Say, Granger, were you really scared back then?” Malfoy asked, and though Hermione’s back was turned to him, she knew he was smirking.
“Well, yes, I thought it was some kind of slimy, sordid, slithering, fetid creature from the Underworld,” Hermione retorted. Planting her very own smirk on her face, she finished, “Well, I wasn’t exactly far off, was I?”
“Your clever remarks have no effect on me,” Malfoy replied sharply.
“I can hear that,” Hermione agreed, still smiling pleasantly.
Malfoy didn’t say anything, and Hermione reached the shore and hurriedly went over to her clothes. Producing her wand from her robes pocket, she muttered a drying spell on herself and quickly put on her clothes. Malfoy was still splashing about in the water when Hermione swiftly walked back up to the castle.
The skies were shrouded in a thin layer of clouds as Hermione walked towards the lake the next night. It was much darker out than the previous day now that the moon was covered, but Hermione managed to find her way without lighting her wand. She knew the way in blind, having gone to Hogwarts for so many years.
As soon as the water hugged her body in a chilling caress, Hermione let out a sigh of relaxation. The clouds dispersed and in the moonlight Hermione saw a figure approach the water. She bent down into the water to hide as much of her as possible and watched as the figure reached the edge of the lake. It took off some robes and Hermione saw, in the wan moonlight, blond hair standing out conspicuously in the dark.
Payback time, Hermione thought evilly, as she began to swim soundlessly to the side, intending to circle around him when he got in and trying to move as slowly as possible so to not disturb the water too much.
Only her nose and upwards was visible as she swam, seeing his almost silver complexion in the moonlight before he plodded into the water and soon dove in.
Hermione swam closer and waited for him to surface so she would know in which direction to swim. He came up again not many seconds later and Hermione made her way slowly towards him. To her utter excitement and luck, Malfoy lay down in the water, floating on his back, his arms stretched out to the sides. Feeling it was the perfect opportunity, Hermione neared him and when she was almost next to him, she sprang out of the water, hitting him in the middle as she came down, and pulled him under the water. She held on to his flailing body for a second or two before quickly pushing away from him and swimming as fast as possible in the opposite direction.
She surfaced only a short distance away from where he surfaced a moment later.
Hermione smiled satisfied as she saw him regurgitate the salty water. As soon as he seemed to have regained his senses, his head snapped in her direction so fast she was sure she had heard his neck crack.
“You!” he hissed in a throaty voice. “Are you out of your mind?!”
“Whatever do you mean?” Hermione asked innocently.
“Don’t give me that shit! You almost killed me!”
“Believe me, Malfoy, if I had wanted to kill you, your body parts would already be serving as manure for the Forbidden Forest,” Hermione drawled.
Malfoy was seething, and Hermione was loving every nanosecond of it.
“Say, Malfoy,” Hermione perked up, “were you really scared back then?”
“You are so characteristically not funny, Granger,” Malfoy spat. “Go surrender yourself to the giant squid or something, I don’t care, just get out of my sight.” He suddenly started coughing somewhat violently again and then stared moodily at her.
“What?” Hermione grinned. “Swallowed a fish, did we? I confess I like sushi too, but you should really consider preparing it first.”
Malfoy growled and trudged towards the shore.
“But then again,” Hermione continued, speaking up since he was walking away from her, “you’ve always been kind of plebeian, why start being civilised now?”
Malfoy ignored her and continued on his way to dry land.
“And by the way--”
“Granger!” Malfoy shouted, turning around with a carnivorous look on his face.
“What?” Hermione queried innocently. “I’m sorry if I affronted your eating habits, but you wouldn’t… want to… turn into… a…” Hermione’s voice carried out as she noticed him approaching her, a positively murderous look in his eyes, and all of a sudden, verbally tormenting him wasn’t as fun anymore.
Feeling slightly nervous, Hermione stepped backwards through the water, realising too late that she had probably gone too far. As ‘slightly nervous’ turned into ‘extremely anxious’, Hermione turned around and swam away from him. She heard him plunge into the water to follow her, and now everything wasn’t as funny as it had been moments before.
Feeling panic rise inside her, Hermione swam as fast as she could away from him, small waves lapping around her. Splashing around in fear, she got water in her nose and cringed as it stung terribly. Not daring to stop, she continued, quickly looking over her shoulder to see Malfoy mere strokes behind her.
“Malfoy, stop it!” she cried out, feeling his approaching figure very unnerving.
He didn’t answer her, and Hermione noticed in alarm that he managed to grab a hold of her ankle and pull. She flailed and kicked, but he managed to hold her in place. All of a sudden, he jumped towards her and pulled her under the water. The water pressed against her ears, and the darkness of it made seeing anything impossible. The lapping of the water was all she could hear, and Hermione tugged at the hands that were currently holding her down by her shoulders.
Flailing seemed to get her nowhere, and in the dimness, she felt her arms and legs tiring out, and without really noticing, she stopped struggling. And in the darkness she felt drained and despondent, until, with the panicked realisation of another, she closed her eyes and floated.
Unfamiliar air searched her. Her clogged throat didn’t let it pass. Again, air entered but wasn’t employed. Then, an injection of air reached her throat and entered, consciousness hitting her like a stone to the head, and she was left regurgitating salty water on the sandy shore of the lake.
She heaved in a large breath and felt dizzy from the sudden large amount of air that filled her lungs. She crashed on the ground with a stuttering breath and remained there, breathing raggedly and feeling exhausted.
Gaining her composure enough to turn around, Hermione lay on her back and looked around her. The moon was shrouded again in the grey of the clouds and the leaves of a large tree billowed peacefully above her. She turned her head slightly to the left and saw Draco Malfoy stare dumbfounded at her.
“I…” he mumbled but seemed unable to continue.
Hermione closed her eyes as she felt an icy wind caress her body. She hugged herself and felt how wet she was, realising why the air had felt so unreasonably cold. She slowly put her hands on either side of her body and, with immense effort, sat up.
Overlooking the lake, it now lay peaceful in the night; the stir two enemies had caused had now diminished into a light billowing.
Hermione looked over at him again and saw that he was still staring at her in that unsettling way.
“I…” he muttered. “I-I’m sorry,” he finished with amazed sincerity in his eyes.
Hermione didn’t really know what he was apologising for and at the moment she didn’t really care; she was freezing, was still breathing somewhat unevenly, and her head felt extremely heavy.
She didn’t say anything, but moved to get up. Malfoy was on his feet in seconds and stretched out his hand to her, mumbling, “Here.”
Hermione took it and was heaved to her feet, getting dizzy the moment he let go of her. He grabbed her upper arm and led her to her bundle of clothes. Bending down, he reached for her wand and pointed it at her, warmth and dryness covering her body. She gave him a slight nod of gratitude before getting in her robes. Once in her clothes “ though everything put on haphazardly and carelessly “ she walked carefully towards the castle.
Suddenly, Malfoy was at her side again, fully dressed, and took hold of her upper arm, steadying her.
“I really am sorry,” he claimed. “I… I didn’t mean for it to go so far. I didn’t know you were that fragile. It was just a game. Just a game…”
Hermione couldn’t find the strength to reply, so instead kept her eyes fixed on the approaching castle.
“Maybe you should go to the hospital wing,” Malfoy proposed uncertainly.
Hermione just shook her head tiredly and continued her walk, letting out a sigh of appreciation as she entered the soporific warmth of the castle.
She sat down at the edge of the water, the moon mirroring peacefully across the surface of the black water. What once was a place of tranquillity and solitude, now held dark memories, and Hermione found herself unable to discard her robes.
Instead, she remained on the shore, breathing in the invaluable air that she now cherished in a whole new way.
Slow footsteps could be heard in the distance but Hermione didn’t turn around to acknowledge the person; she knew who it would be.
He sat down next to her, but making sure that there was a certain distance between them. He didn’t say anything. Neither did she.
Hours seemed to pass where no one spoke or moved. Hermione felt the unsaid words press against her ear and was inwardly thankful when Malfoy broke the silence.
“How… How are you?” he asked quietly.
“All right,” Hermione answered, still looking over the dark lake, “considering.”
Next to her, Malfoy sighed and said astonished, “I thought I’d killed you.”
“Yeah, too bad you didn’t succeed,” Hermione responded scathingly.
“What do you mean?”
“I survived,” she answered irritably. “Guess it wasn’t your lucky day.”
“Granger… I revived you,” Malfoy alleged.
Hermione let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, sure; right after you tried to kill me, your schizophrenic self decided to save my arse. Logical, I have to admit.”
“I didn’t try to kill you,” Malfoy replied, apparently slightly annoyed. “It just got out of hand. When I noticed you weren’t struggling anymore and that you were kind of drifting very… erm, lifelessly…” “ Hermione snorted “ “I got you out of the water and onto the bank.”
“How very noble of you.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“And I’ve accepted it,” Hermione replied, but continued, “The fact that you’re a conniving bastard, that is.”
“Fine. I guess I deserved that one,” Malfoy shrugged, running a hand through his hair.
They were silent for a while, listening to the trees whisper, the lake slumber, the wind dance.
“I actually didn’t think you’d make it,” Malfoy broke the silence. “When you weren’t responding to… my reviving techniques… I thought you had gone. I felt so helpless. God, it’s the worst feeling in the world, knowing that you can’t help a person.”
“You did manage to help me,” Hermione replied softly, “in the end. Say, what ‘reviving techniques’ did you use?”
Malfoy seemed a bit taken aback by the question. “Why?”
“Just asking.”
“I, well… I just used the basics, y’know…”
“Like what?” Hermione urged innocently.
“Oh, you know, stuff…”
“Stuff like what?”
“You know, stuff.”
“Stuff like what?” Hermione repeated.
Finally he growled, “Mouth-to-mouth, all right?! Are you happy now?” He let out a frustrated breath.
Hermione turned her head away from him, so he couldn’t see her smile at his obvious discomfort. They didn’t say anything after that. Hermione stayed for ten minutes and then decided to head back to the castle to get some much deserved sleep.
It had been three days since the incident. Two days since her talk with Malfoy. Hermione hadn’t gone back to the lake the previous night. She didn’t know why. But now, she missed the tranquillity of the dark lake and the vastness of the skies.
He was already sitting there when she arrived at the bank.
He looked up at her when she came to stand next to him. “You weren’t here yesterday.”
Hermione frowned at his words, but didn’t answer. She walked along the edge of the water, unconsciously keeping a certain distance.
“Have you told…” Malfoy interrupted her daze. “Do they know?”
Hermione looked back at him and muttered, “No. But they know something’s wrong.”
“Why haven’t you told them?” he asked slowly.
“Because I’m a fool,” Hermione whispered bitterly.
She felt him look at her for a moment before he said, “Thank you.”
Hermione acted as though she was shaken violently on her feet, her arms flailing about, and then she gaining her footing. “Wo, did you feel that?” she asked, faking surprise, though inwardly smirking. “I think the Earth went off its axis!”
“Ha ha,” Malfoy sneered.
Hermione couldn’t help but smile at him.
“So, are you going in?” he asked casually.
Hermione looked out onto the water with a longing glance before looking at her hands and mumbling, “No.” When she looked up at him again, he was looking at his hands as well.
“I haven’t made you suffer from hydrophobia, have I?” he asked, not looking up.
Hermione didn’t answer but walked back to him and asked, “What about you? Aren’t you going in?”
“No.”
“Then why have you come?” Hermione asked, sitting down on a rock a few metres away from him.
Malfoy shrugged. “Out of habit, I guess.”
“I know what you mean…”
They sat in silence for some time. Neither knew how much time had actually passed when then one after the other left for the castle, no words spoken or unspoken in the quietness of the night.
She had her bathing suit underneath her robes that day. She didn’t know why; she wasn’t going to swim. But it was a step.
She saw him standing by the shore, throwing stones into the otherwise still water. Hermione neared him, listening to the whistle of the wind, the plumping of the pebbles as they playfully dove under the surface of the lake.
“Trying to make a hole?” Hermione asked when she came to stand just a few paces behind him.
His arm stopping in mid-throw, Malfoy turned around and replied with a crooked smile, “Something like that.”
Hermione walked the rest of the way and bent down next to the cool liquid. Running her fingertips through the water, she felt the longing of her reluctantly dismissed solitude, but dared not reclaim it.
“Do you want me to go?” Malfoy asked from somewhere behind her.
She stood up again and dried her hand in her robes, muttering, “No need. I’m not going in anyway.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“I don’t want to.”
“Yes, you do,” Malfoy corrected, as if he knew her. “You’re just suppressing it.”
“What do you know about it?” Hermione spat.
“Nothing, of course,” Malfoy hurriedly replied. “Though… You know what they say; if you fall off your broomstick, hurry to the hospital, get revived, insert a new lung, mend your ribs, and then get back on your broomstick.”
“What is it with men and broomsticks?” Hermione asked the world at large.
“They’re fast.”
“And deadly.”
“But they’re fast.”
“Ugh, whatever,” Hermione sighed. “But anyway, save your staggering proverbs for someone else, because I’m not in the mood for swimming.”
“We both know you are,” Malfoy corrected.
“We don’t know anything!” Hermione responded irritably. “I know that I’m now going to go back to the castle. The only thing you know is how to unscrew a bottle of gel.”
Malfoy closed his eyes and sighed heavily, counting five seconds with his fingers in the air, apparently searching for composure. When he opened his eyes, he looked patiently at her. “Okay, I’m going to let that one slide. But you really shouldn’t let what happened the other night get to you that much.”
“’Get to me’?” Hermione repeated incredulously. She couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “Well, that’s easy for you to say, Mr Get Back on the Broomstick. You were the one who shoved me off it!”
“And that’s why I’m going to help you get back on.”
Hermione’s eyebrows popped up, and she put a finger up to her ear, massaging it roughly to make sure it wasn’t clogged with water. Malfoy rolled his eyes and waited for her to stop. When Hermione attempted to take her pulse, though, Malfoy seemed fed up with the derision, and spat, “If you’re through giving new meanings to the words ‘annoying’, ‘childish’, and ‘unfunny’, maybe we could get on with it?”
Hermione ceased taking unnecessarily deep breaths, and smirked. “Fine,” she gave in. “But I’m not going into the water.”
“Look, I promise I won’t go anywhere near you,” Malfoy insisted, his hands out on either side of his head in surrender. “I swear I’m not going to try to drown you, all right? If you’re going to die, it’s not going to be on my watch.”
“Your positivism is mind-blowing,” Hermione replied cynically.
“Come on, Granger, you know you want to,” Malfoy cajoled. “Poseidon is locked up and won’t come and grab-a-feel, I promise. Come on.”
Hermione hated herself for it, and she was going to punish herself severely “ like burn her library ticket (oh, sweet Merlin, no) “ when she got back to the castle, but she couldn’t help it; she smiled.
“That’s it,” Malfoy nodded appreciatively, apparently noticing her small smile. “Now, come on, the lake awaits.”
Hermione sighed deeply. Maybe she could do it. Just a quick dip and then up. Yes, maybe she could…
“What are you standing there thinking about?” Malfoy asked impatiently.
“Fine,” Hermione replied and walked closer to the edge of the water. Malfoy seemed pleased with the progress, as he stood there with his arms crossed in approbation, watching her as she surveyed the water before reaching for the buttons of her robes. “Look the other way,” she ordered.
Malfoy turned around and looked towards the castle, and Hermione hurriedly discarded her robes and stepped up to the water. Her toes hit the deliciously cool water, and sedate familiarity consumed her, though with it came also troubled remembrance. She stopped with the water only reaching her ankles, and bit her lip.
“I can’t hear water splashing!” Malfoy sang from behind her, his back still turned to her.
Hermione looked out onto the black lake and muttered, “No…”
“Look, just take it slowly,” Malfoy told her. “And remember; I’m not in there with you. Aren’t those the most comforting words you’ve ever heard in your entire life?”
Hermione smiled to herself and took a step, then another, and another.
And soon she was able to bend down, covering herself in water from toe to neck, her arms waving slowly under the water, creating small underwater waves that caressed her skin and soothed her mind.
She looked over at Malfoy, who was still standing with his back towards the lake, his head bobbing slightly from side to side, apparently humming.
“You can turn around now,” Hermione told him.
Malfoy faced to lake and, upon seeing Hermione almost completely under water, stretched out his arms and exclaimed, “I’m brilliant.”
“Yes…” Hermione replied sceptically. “Though I would rather have said ‘cocky’, but I see the definition of unfounded altruism is ambiguous.”
“Wasn’t I the one who told you to get back on the broomstick?” Malfoy asked.
“Yes, but I believe I was the one who got in,” Hermione replied. “I don’t see you plunging into the water.”
“That’s because I told you I wouldn’t go in, so you would be sure I wasn’t going to try to drown you,” Malfoy answered.
“You haven’t made yourself suffer from hydrophobia, have you?” Hermione asked, an eyebrow raised.
Malfoy didn’t answer but resumed to picking up pebbles and throwing them into the water, as Hermione swam around in silence.
Hermione walked swiftly over the grounds towards the lake. The moon wasn’t to be seen that night “ the skies were covered in thick, grey clouds and a strong wind made her hair wave along with the trees “ but somehow the evening was more beautiful than ever, Hermione thought, as she reached the shore of the billowing lake. She would dive today. She knew she would be able to. It truly was a beautiful night.
Hermione discarded her robes while humming Hogwarts’ school song, and then skipped towards the edge of the water.
“I see you’ve overcome your fears,” someone said from behind.
Hermione spun around and exclaimed, “Malfoy!” before trying to cover herself with her arms.
“What?” he asked with furrowed eyebrows.
“Turn around, for goodness sake!” Hermione shrieked.
Malfoy rolled his eyes but obeyed nonetheless.
As soon as his back was turned Hermione trudged into the water, and when the water reached her thighs, she crouched down so she was covered by the dark water. “Okay,” she yelled back at the importunate boy, who she saw turned around while shaking his head slightly.
“You know,” he yelled back at her, “I did see all of you that day when I drowned you.”
“I was underneath the surface of the water,” Hermione reasoned.
“Yes, but who carried your unconscious body out of the water and onto the bank?”
Hermione got a sickening feeling in her stomach at this. Malfoy, the first bloke to see her so undressed?
Life just isn’t fair sometimes.
Deciding on letting it drop for the time being, Hermione asked, “So, aren’t you going in?”
“No,” Malfoy replied simply.
“Oh, come on,” Hermione dismissed his refusal, and, starting to wade back towards the shore, continued, “I got in, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but--”
“Why are you hesitating?” Hermione queried, puzzled.
“It’s just--”
“It’s just nothing,” Hermione finished for him, as she got out of the water and stopped to contemplate him. “Haven’t you got your swimming trunks?”
“Yes, but--”
“Then go on,” Hermione interrupted him, turning around to face the lake, “I won’t peek.”
She heard him sigh in exasperation, and then there was the sound of robes hitting the grass. Hermione waited patiently until she heard him mutter, “All right,” after which she turned around to face him.
“Now, come on,” she smiled encouragingly.
Malfoy, his jaw set, took the last few steps towards the edge of the water but then stopped.
“I can’t hear water splashing!” Hermione sang in an annoying parody of his previous self, for which she only earned herself a cold stare.
It did, however, seem as though he wasn’t going to get in, so Hermione walked up to him, said, “Come on,” and, without really caring or realising it, seized his hand.
Malfoy emitted a sharp intake of breath, and Hermione stopped in her tracks and waited for the inevitable of him withdrawing his hand in disgust and spitting in her face. But apart from the gasp of, apparently, surprise, nothing was said or done by Malfoy.
Holding on to both Malfoy and her nerves, Hermione carried on leading him into the water.
When the water reached her stomach, she let go of his hand and turned around to face him, smiling slightly.
He didn’t say anything, and nor did she. They swam around in a comfortable silence that both found familiar yet unnerving at the same time.
Hermione sat on a rock by the shore and waited. The moon and stars were out and shone brightly from a cloudless sky. Sirens could be heard in the quietness of the windless night, and the lake lay tranquilly still in front of her.
It was a ghastly night, was what it was.
She had been sitting on that same rock for twenty minutes and she still didn’t feel like getting into the water.
Hermione sighed as she admitted to herself that silence was going to be her only company that night.
She didn’t stay long.
She was already sitting there when he arrived at the bank the next night.
She looked up at him when he came to stand next to her. “You weren’t here yesterday.”
“No…” he mumbled.
“Why?” she asked softly.
Malfoy sighed. “Because…” Hermione urged him to continue with a slight nod of her head. “Because I’m enjoying your company far too much.”
Hermione didn’t say anything but for the “Oh…” that unconsciously escaped her lips.
Malfoy sat down on a rock nearby, and neither spoke as they overlooked the lake.
Hermione was puzzled. Why would Malfoy enjoy her company? Shouldn’t he feel that being within a short distance of her would perpetually contaminate him? How was it possible he could be enjoying her company?
“Because it’s different,” Malfoy muttered irritably, as though he could read her mind.
She chanced a look at him as he continued, “I’m always surrounded by blokes. Crabbe, Goyle… Zabini, Pansy Parkinson…”
Hermione inwardly smiled at his mordant categorisation of Pansy, but maintained her searching expression as Malfoy mumbled, “It’s just… different.”
Suddenly he looked sharply away from the lake to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. He stood up and was standing in front of her in a flash. He menacingly bent over her, a pale finger pointing threateningly at her, his jaw set. “If any of this is repeated to anyone, I swear to Merlin I will not rest until you’re hanging limbless from the Whomping Willow.”
Hermione’s eyes bulged slightly but she hurriedly answered, “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
His brow smoothed out but he still kept unnervingly close, his threatening finger slowly falling from her face. Hermione saw his eyes search hers alternately, his breathing clear in the quietness of the night that surrounded them. An internal battle seemed to unfold behind his grey-blue eyes, eyes that Hermione had never seen so up close before. Suddenly, he straightened up, Hermione gulping slightly as she welcomed the space between them. “I have to go…” he muttered, already turning around as he spoke.
He left for the castle.
Hermione didn’t stop him.
She was sitting on the last steps of Hogwarts’ main entrance, overlooking the grounds. Hermione didn’t know whether she was going to go down to the lake that night; she could see Malfoy standing by the shore in the distance throwing pebbles into the still water.
She sighed. Should she go down there?
It was much later in the night than their previous meetings, but he was still there; waiting for her or innovation, she didn’t know. But he was there. Should she be too?
Without agreeing to this, her legs went to stand up and they carried her some metres away from the castle.
She stopped in her tracks, not sure whether it was the right choice.
Her legs seemed to have a mind of their own, for they resumed to walking towards lake. It was probably too late to turn around now, Hermione reasoned, so she let her feet carry her to him.
“Hey…” he muttered before she even got to make herself known.
“Hey…” she replied in the same hushed voice.
“I didn’t think you’d show,” he said, while weighing a pebble in his palm, not looking up at her.
“Nor did I,” Hermione replied truthfully.
He looked up at her for a moment, and then threw the pebble into the water, resorting to look at the rings it made in the water, his hands resting in his pockets.
“You know…” Hermione began, as she walked up to stand beside him, “one day, one of the Merpeople will surface with a black eye and you’ll be sorry you ever threw those pebbles.”
Malfoy chuckled, his eyes still fixed upon the billowing water.
“Well, it is time for innovation,” he replied casually.
So he was just waiting for that.
“Even though you’ve already brought it,” he finished quietly.
Hermione didn’t know what to make of that, so she just fidgeted with a loose thread in her robes.
“Why did you even come here in the beginning?” Malfoy asked.
Hermione sighed. “For the tranquillity of it all, I guess. To get away from all the hustle Hogwarts always is surrounded by.”
“Yeah,” Malfoy nodded, “Me too.”
Neither said anything for a couple of minutes, before Malfoy broke the silence. “Do you ever think we’ll go back?”
Hermione thought about her answer. “To some extent…” she replied after a moment, “I think we have to.”
He looked down at her as she stood there next to him. She could feel his stare and turned her head to meet his eyes.
“Life stinks,” he said.
“Figuratively speaking,” Hermione added with a smile.
He smiled back, and Hermione looked down to avoid his piercing gaze, but when she looked back up, he was still looking at her.
“What?” she asked with a nervous laugh.
He didn’t answer but continued to search her eyes. Something seemed to pass quickly through those grey-blue orbs, and he took at step back, mumbling, “I have to go,” and turned to walk away.
This time, Hermione did stop him.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, walking after him towards the castle.
“I have to go,” he repeated.
“Yes, but why?” Hermione asked, puzzled, and seized his arm.
He stopped in his tracks and withdrew his arm from her grasp. “Don’t touch me!” he rasped.
Hermione felt like he had slapped her across the cheek. “So we’re back to that again, huh?” she asked angrily. “You don’t want my filthy blood anywhere near you, right?”
“No!” Malfoy replied. “It’s difficult. Don’t touch me, because… Oh, damnit, I can’t do this!” he growled and resumed to walking towards the castle.
Hermione didn’t walk after him, but she did want to know what was bothering him. “Why, Malfoy?” she yelled after him.
“Because!” he yelled back as he furiously turned around in his retreat. “Because, Merlin forbid it, I like it!”
Hermione stared at him. He looked positively despondent, as he stood there, looking as though he was about to burst with frustration. He turned around to walk up to the castle, and Hermione let him.
It was definitely a wrong move that she went out of the castle doors. What was even more wrong was that she walked down the stone steps. Why she continued to walk down the grounds, was beyond her. Lord knows it was a wrong move.
Still, she continued, as though she couldn’t control her own feet, but soon she found herself on the shore of the lake. He wasn’t there. Hermione thought it might be a sign that she shouldn’t have come, and turned around to walk back to the castle.
There he was, standing on her escape route.
“Hi,” he muttered, his hands in his pockets.
Hermione walked slowly towards him, mumbling, “Hi,” as she went.
“I don’t know why I came tonight,” Hermione said as she came to stand right in front of him.
“Me neither…” he croaked.
Hermione felt something pull at her. Some invisible force was pulled at her chest. Pulling her towards him.
Malfoy lifted his hand slowly to her cheek and let it caress her moonlit skin before resting it on her neck. Now the pulling wasn’t an invisible force anymore, but Malfoy drew her closer by his hand, and soon they were standing nose to nose. He gave her one last piercing stare before tilting his head slightly and closing the small space that was left between them.
Their lips met for the softest of kisses and for the shortest of time, but how much it was going to inflict, neither knew just yet.
Hermione kept her eyes closed for a few more seconds and then slowly opened them to look up at him again. “Ask me again,” she told him quietly.
Malfoy looked puzzled for a moment, but then seemed to know for what she was asking. “Do you ever think we’ll go back?” he asked with a crooked smile.
Hermione looked up at him and answered, “No… Not completely anyway.”