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Sink | Rewritten by velajune
Chapter 1: One
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Nothing felt the same after fourth year for Hermione Granger. She saw more of life outside of her constant companions, books. Not the life of battles and constant brush with death. No, this was different.
It started with a small crush that snowballed. Slowly, she fell in love with Ron.
That love only grew as they spent more time together as Prefects during their fifth year. By the sixth year, Hermione believed she had control over her emotions.
Ron was the one.
She believed it with all her heart, so why wasn't he here?
"Can you hear me, Miss Granger?"
Hermione's eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling. She could hear very well but said nothing.
"It seems she is aware of our presence but is incapable of replying," said the man in a white coat.
Someone walked away from Hermione before speaking, "It will take some time to recover her memories."
"So there's a chance to fix her?"
That was Harry's voice, sorely sounding, but Harry's nonetheless. He was the first she recognized after waking up.
"To be completely honest, I would not be too hopeful about recovering them. The most important thing for Miss Granger is to rest."
"You mean to say, there are consequences to getting her memories back?" Harry somberly looked at his friend.
She knew this voice well but couldn't put a face to it. Was it Ron? Thinking too much made her head hurt. The bed creaked as she slumped back into a deep slumber.
In her dreams, she sees Ron clearly. Best of all, she remembered him, Ron, with his red hair, freckled face, and ridiculously adorable smile. In her dreams, they were eleven. They were meeting for the first time.
She remembered pointing out the dirt on his nose, the way he wrinkled his face, and the giant misunderstanding between them.
The train rattled. The hanging lights flickered just a little.
She shut her eyes from the incessant flashing.
His brooding eyes stared back at her. His arms rested on the table as he watched her in silence. The mannerisms were different, they were not Ron's.
The quiet sighs of the boy before her felt differently from Ron's louder ones. Who is he?
"Obliviate," she remembered saying.
There were gaps in her memories; that much she could understand from her own assessment and the conversations she'd listened to between Harry, the doctor, and someone she couldn't remember.
She was told, sleep took over her more often because her brain was trying to fix what had been broken—what she forgot but it wasn't like amnesia. She wanted to tell them, she'd done it to herself with magic. And they can reverse the spell and that would be it. Problem solved.
"It's not that easy, Mr. Potter," the doctor corrected Harry, "we're talking about years of self-inflicted memory erasing. If we don't know when it began, we could potentially ruin the memories she does remember."
Oh, she thought. She'd been doing it for years, he said but even that she couldn't remember.
In her dreams, she's dancing in an empty hall with a faceless man. She's dreamt it many times before to a point, she almost believed it to be real. She dreamt of sneaking out late after curfew to the Astronomy Tower, having small, sweet conversations but those dreams were never about Ron. She knew that much.
She hasn't felt the same way since her fourth year. She saw more of life outside of her constant companions, books. Not the life of battles and constant brush with death. No, this was different.
Yes, still dangerous, but also fun.
It all started with a smirk and a glare.
Slowly, she found herself searching for his figure amongst the sea of serpents. Curiosity controlled her whims and curiosity only grew as they spent time as Prefects during their fifth year. By the time the sixth year rolled in, Hermione could no more control her emotions than she could Harry and Ron.
Draco piqued her curiosity.
I want to take my time with it as much as possible. I hope this first one piqued your curiosity (if you haven't read the original). And comment if it did. I love hearing from you guys. :D
Chapter 2: Two
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Draco Malfoy didn't find Hermione Granger, the mudblood, particularly appealing. Rather, to him, Granger was a thorn amongst pureblood roses. She was too shapely whereas girls in his house were models—thin to the bone. She was sultry and they were squawky. She was toned and they... weren't. Her skin was a beautiful tan and they were all pale as ghosts. Other than Bulstrode, whose shape is that of a ball, everyone in the Slytherin House looked alike.
Granger was different and he wasn't supposed to like different.
Need he admit anymore?
One late night during his fourth year, he found it difficult to sleep. Figuring a walk would do him some good, he snuck out with ease. He thought of the Library first, a thought that never occurred to him before now. A part of him debated if he should and decided he would anyway. What the heck, he thought, throw caution to the wind. Not that he had any, to begin with.
The first time they truly met was after he let the door creak open and she accidentally knocked the stack of books she'd collected crash one after another on the stone cold floor of the library.
He smirked, amused.
She glared, embarrassed.
It wasn't a romantic meeting. Not even a bit. It was mundane and blended with their usual days, but it was the first of many nonetheless.
"Granger," he let a disgusted expression grace his face as he spoke her name.
"Malfoy," she spat back.
The fourth year was their year of fighting. They always butted heads except for that one night when the lights dimmed, people left one by one, and Draco found himself alone within what was usually a crowded hall.
She walked towards him, still upset at her boys.
He remembered how stunning she looked in her blue dress. He stared at her flawless figure and the smile she'd unexpectedly given him. He'd never noticed her smile before then. He forgot the years he'd spent bullying this girl.
Not sure with what came over him but he approached her, eyes dilated and hand outstretched.
In her head, she huffed and in revenge to Ron, "I'll show you fraternizing!"
She took his pale hand and swallowed back the urge to snap at him. Since he wasn't talking, neither would she.
They danced a slow beat, following the strum of the wind, hands entwined. Music couldn't be heard anywhere yet, he danced and led her smoothly.
He wanted to tease her for her fast beating heart though he could hear his own heart thrumming away as he thought about her soft skin, warm breath, and the fragrant smell of her hair. Had she always been so beautiful? He rested a cheek on her head and closed his eyes.
Hermione held her breath for a moment when she felt him lessen the space between them but relaxed as she felt his calmly beating chest. She gripped at his shirt, her hand touching his defined back muscles. Suddenly, she felt secured within his arms. Had he always been so comfortable?
They continued to waltz in the dark of the night in an empty hallway.
She couldn't recall who he'd come to the Yule Ball with, neither did she care. There was no greater feeling than wanting to rid of the frustrations of the night. Malfoy, thankfully, rid her of those thoughts.
That night, there was no discrimination shot towards her. He was simply a teenage boy who'd gotten over the idea of cooties dancing with a teenage girl who got over being disallowed from the boy's fort. They had no names, no affiliations, no house, and blood was simply red and beating in rhythmic synchronicity.
After the silent dance in the even more silent hallway, bumping into each other became a thing he looked forward to without knowing.
He rested an elbow on the table before him and eyed the one across where two students dressed in red-trimmed robes sat, talking actively with one another. A vein on his forehead popped out with jealousy. The boy touched the girl on the arm and another vein popped out. She laughed at a joke he made and yet again, a vein appeared.
"That is all for today's meeting," said a student Draco couldn't remember the name of. She was some Prefect Hufflepuff he could care very little for but he was glad she was done talking, glad the entire meeting was done.
This was his chance.
"Too bad you're doing rounds with that prick today," commented the redheaded boy to his housemate.
Everyone had heard but Draco felt nothing from the half-assed insult. The butterflies in his stomach filled him to the brim, too full to register anything else except that tonight, he'd have his chance. He'd be the one talking to her, making her laugh, and touching her on the arm. Tonight, he'd have her for himself.
She slowly walked over to him after answering her friend, a look of disgust filled her face but still too full, Draco saw nothing.
"Granger," he smirked with pleasure.
"Malfoy," she returned with less amusement. "Let's get this over with."
Even if she wanted a quick look around the castle, there really was no such thing. For one, it was a castle. Secondly, it was a magical castle. Thirdly, it was a magical castle she was exploring with a Slytherin and not just any snake, but the prince himself.
They didn't walk side by side that night not that they actually walked.
She led the way from one corridor to another, speed walking, almost a jog. She often stole a look at her watch and the boy behind her which would slow her down by a second.
He followed behind, strolling through the halls, watching her contently. He never looked away, not that she'd know and he tried his best to slow time down.
But the night ended at eleven and that was it.
Or should've been.
"Hey, you!" Hermione shouted after a student running out of the Astronomy Tower. "Ugh," she groaned upon entering, "gross."
The area was filled with a foul smell of a failed potion.
Her face contorted and she drew a hand to her nose. Even this image of her stuck in his memory. Every expression she's ever worn in front of Draco, he remembered except the blank expression that greeted him now.
"Who are you?" She wondered.
He simply smiled at the shadow of who she used to be, hoping against all odds that the Golden boy would somehow find a way to save the woman who brought light into the dungeons of his darkened soul.
author's note.Here is chapter two and a little deeper into their relationship. Chapter three will have a little bit more butterflies and the light Draco mentions at the end. I hope you like it!
Chapter 3: Three
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Hermione watched him watch her. She'd woken not too long ago to a familiar humming but when she'd woken up, she'd forgotten what it was that seemed familiar.
"Who are you?" She wondered.
Draco softly turned the corners of his mouth into a smile, "I'm Draco Malfoy."
She scanned the memories of her childhood and found a platinum blonde boy, smug looking and arrogant attitude. She saw him smirk with disgust at her. She saw him snicker behind Harry's back. She saw him raise his wand.
"Densaugeo!" His sharp clear pronunciation had her in awe.
She wasn't used to others being proficient but Draco was always that and more. He rattled her intelligence.
He observed her indifferent expression turn sour. He could only theorize which of the many times he'd bullied her she was remembering. He hoped it was the time she punched him in the face. At least she'd gotten him back then.
"What are you doing here?" She interrogated.
His hand patted for something on the table beside him as he kept his eyes glued on her. Which memory was it, he kept wondering. He wanted to know so that he could assess where in her memory she stopped remembering. Should he dare ask?
"Stop looking at me," she commanded.
"Why?" He teased.
"I don't want you to. Simple as that."
He pressed his lips and nodded his head. "Yeah, well, I don't want to stop. Guess, we're at a stand still."
She puffed her cheeks, almost playfully but shook it off quickly upon realization.
"Here," he suddenly handed her a thick novel, "I was returning this."
He watched her stare it with curiosity. What was she thinking now? There was a time he knew how her mind worked. It's been too long and she wasn't his Hermione. No, she was Granger, know-it-all beaver, and insufferably muggle-born. At least, it's how she must remember how he thinks of her.
He kept watching her even as she'd fallen back to sleep, against her will of course. And he kept remembering the first time they talked during a nightly inspection round.
"We better check the Astronomy Tower again," she told him, looking at a checklist she'd made in order to finish their job quicker.
He raised a brow and she readied herself for a long debacle.
"I don't want to—" She started to say.
"What?" She cut him off, jaws open.
He touched her. She flinched. He touched her to close her open mouth. He smirked, no, he smiled and swiftly stuffed his hand back into his coat pocket. His hand trembled inside the pocket and a small satisfied expression battled its way out of his mind into his physical form.
"You're okay with going there?"
He turned to her with that same raised brow, "I'm also a Prefect, Granger."
She flinched, again. He'd never said her name that way before, without malice drenched all over it. Actually, had he even ever said her name?
"Hermione's sleeping right now," Draco reported the obvious to a haggard Harry.
"Thanks for staying," Harry absentmindedly slumped beside him. "Even though she can't remember you, I'm surprised, to be honest, you staying by her side."
Draco knew no one would understand. It wasn't like Hermione had told anyone about them. Even after the war, no one had known and the next thing was Hermione laying on a hospital bed meant for the sick or the crazy. She was both.
"I did love her..." His voice trailed off.
"Did?" Harry asked him, eyes closed, ready to fall asleep.
"She doesn't exist to me right now like I don't exist to her."
A shiver ran down Harry's spine and the little hairs on his arms sprang up. He thought about what that would be like, to be forgotten. He didn't like the thought of Ginny forgetting him. He turned to Draco, imagining a slight crack running across the guy's heart because that's what he felt just from the thought.
"Have you eaten?" A redhead beauty entered the room with a large bag. "Mum made dinner for Harry but I'm sure there's plenty for you as well, Draco."
Ginny Weasley pulled a seat over by the table, immediately placing some utensils for Draco. She had one a smile, welcoming him to dine with them.
He almost did.
"I'm alright," Draco declined.
"You haven't eaten," Ginny declared. She huffed, sighed, and dropped her head. "I stopped by earlier... and actually this is really for you."
Harry leaned in on Draco, "she's been worried about you."
After some seconds of staring, Draco's cold demeanor crumbled beneath the triumphant warm girl.
"She told someone, you know," Ginny opened up the bag to reveal a well-thought out meal and began to arrange them on the table. "She told me about you a few times."
He didn't know that.
"The first time was after you'd gone on a patrol together. She got back real late and Ron was angry about it. Not that they'd been dating, you know. Ron was too dense about his own feelings at the time."
Draco nodded, almost wanting to say, "Yeah, I'd stolen her from him" but Ron was stealing Hermione now.
"What did she tell you?" He asked instead.
"You were unexpectedly polite," she laughed.
He remembered himself differently.
"What do we do here?" He leaned on a pillar, waiting for her to assess the situation. Yet again, the Astronomy Tower was filled with vandalism and students attempting to make some sort of potion.
Hermione laughed to herself, remembering the time in their second year when she'd made a botch polyjuice potion and turned into a cat. That was something she could never tell another soul. Maybe, she thought, they were doing the same.
Draco remembered wanting to ask her why she was laughing. Back then, he didn't know her but he didn't ask.
"Clean it up, I suppose," she waved her wand around, cleaning.
"I'll take out this abominable thing," he gestured towards an artwork painted on the floor of the tower. He refused to look at her as he spoke.
"That's too bad," Hermione found herself saying, "it's beautiful."
Looking at it again, Draco agreed. It was but he erased it anyway. With a wave of his hand, it was gone. Soon, he thought, so would this strange fascination for the mudblood.
He sighed as another memory overlapped the old.
"Come here, Draco!" She called out. "This one is just as beautiful!"
She beckoned him over, a smile on her face, her eyes squinting from the bright sun. She stood before a field of painted flowers. Her skin glowed beneath the rays and his heart pounded. Her bright silhouette engulfed him. That's when he knew, he wasn't the only one captured.
"Draco?" Ginny waved her hand in front of his face.
"I said, she told me about that time you danced with her during the Yule Ball. She really treasured that moment for a while that year." Ginny grinned, amused by a Draco she didn't believe existed.
Draco hid his smile and started to eat. No one talked for a few minutes until Harry nudged him. The guy was waiting for his response.
"What, mate?" He asked the wonder boy.
The smile he hid turned into a smirk that formed on his features, proud to have one-upped his old rival.
"And if I did?"
"So it was you," Harry mumbled. "She mentioned that to me before... something she remembered in passing one Christmas I danced with her."
Draco was curious but he knew what would be said next.
"She didn't remember it was you, though," this time Harry sighed.
Something came over Draco, compelling him to confess a truth.
"I was in love with her even before I knew it."
They all turned around, faced with a confused Hermione. Her face and body twisted with horror. Draco heard his heart break.
author's note.I hope this chapter satisfies your Dramione shipping hearts until the next update, readers. What'd you think? Not sweet enough? We'll get there.
Chapter 4: Four
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“Malfoy,” Hermione softly called out, both embarrassed and disgusted having to say his name. “We’re doing the rounds again.”
The boy’s facial expression remained frozen but Draco remembers feeling a slightly misplaced hurt. Or was it in the present? Sometimes, remembering himself as a boy filled with prejudices seemed untrue. Had he really been such a prick?
“Are you listening?” She snapped her fingers in his face, provoking him to bat an eye and say a few degrading words but nothing.
He hadn’t said much to her since they began patrolling together. He’d been less of the typical Malfoy and just a teensy-weensy bit amiable. Quiet did him well.
“Where to today?” He asked in a low whispery voice.
Hermione’s ears perked, “what was that?”
He turned to her for a quick second and strutted off in a random direction.
“Not there,” she instinctively reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, “to the Library.”
She didn’t think twice about her action and still didn’t question it as she dragged him off. He wanted to pry her mudblood hands off his expensive suit his mom bought him but he quite liked watching her from behind. She had a sort of fierce presence, her mane of hair roaring like a lion, ordering him to follow. Follow he did for the rest of his life.
“Fudge off,” Draco finally pulled away, “I can walk on my own.”
Her mouth fell open, “oh, that’s right.”
His quiet deceived her for a moment.
His quiet now too was deceiving. Hermione stared back at an older Draco Malfoy, bewildered by his presence and angry with the conversation she’d eavesdropped on.
Technically, since it was about her, she felt she had the right… but did she?
“What do you mean you love me?”
The door to the hospital room opened and a good familiar face came grinning in.
“I have cards,” he flashed a deck but paused with his arm midair when everyone looked at him in surprise. “U-uh… Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh, Ron,” Ginny got up from her seat and dragged her brother out the room.
“W-wait!” Hermione shouted after them.
Her feet took her where she most wanted to be, always.
“They used to run to me,” Draco watched on as his Hermione threw her arms lovingly around another man. He watched as she denied him what he wanted most in the world.
Harry clasped a hand on his shoulder, “I can’t say it’ll all be fine but hang in there.”
“So, the Library then,” fifteen-year-old Draco swung the library doors open.
Whispering and clattering could be heard as students breaking curfew clambered to hide.
“Why is it always on our shifts?” Hermione ducked under Draco’s widespread arms to get in.
He flinched and his face flushed for a millisecond as he thought, why?
Hermione was already punishing students when he his cool returned. She was buzzing through in-between shelf after shelf while he waited for any runaways.
He enjoyed this time. It gave him a satisfying feeling of power and control. Some days, he thought about ruling the world with a tight fist and maybe, he’d go ahead and employ Granger. Maybe. She’d do well like she always does. He flinched again. Why’d he just think that last part?
He swallowed it back and returned to his duties.
“Gotta get outta here!” A student shouted, dashing towards Draco.
“Halt!” Draco said jokingly. Any other day and he’d let this Slytherin boy go but a young Hufflepuff boy came rushing out too. Both were first years. “Ten points from each of you, Rathbone and Grabeel*.”
Hermione came rushing out, eyes on fire.
“That the last of them?”
Draco gave a shrug and waved the kids away.
“Always on our shifts,” Hermione stalked back between two shelves as she dismissed those she’d caught.
Overall, then taken away 65 points just in the library. Hermione had taken five points from those she’d caught, nine of them.
Hermione was jotting down the student names and points when Draco turned a corner unexpectedly.
“Where are you off to?” She jogged after him.
She’d forgotten how long his strides were. The first time she noticed, she’d been in awe at how tall he’d gotten in five years. Things had changed for him, physically at least. Mentally and emotionally, he was still a total snot-nosed brat.
“What was that?”
Her eyes grew wide, had she said that aloud?
“W-where are you off to?”
“I thought we’d take a long way up. Might find some stragglers.”
She sighed as he turned back around, continuing on the long path. He’d never initiated, she thought. This was not the usual and even though she should wonder, she didn’t.
“Parkinson?” Draco’s voice interrupted her again.
“Draco!” A pug-nosed girl giggled.
“What are you doing out here?”
“I thought I’d come see you.”
Hermione was being completely ignored which she thought was a good thing. She much rather be invisible than start a brawl in the middle of the hallway with Pansy Parkinson.
“Who—oh, her, let’s leave her to do all the work, Draco.”
She half expected Malfoy to agree but wished he wouldn’t because she liked having a plan, her chasing and him catching the students off guard. It always amused her how easily the younger students cowered before the Draco Malfoy. He was like a dragon to them, fearsome and untameable.
“Go back or I’ll seriously take points from you.”
Both girls looked at him in awe.
He glared Pansy down.
Hermione wondered, did Malfoy like being a Prefect?
After a few minutes, Pansy retreated having been threatened to lose fifty personal points and having one officially taken. She hissed at Hermione as she passed by but that was all.
Draco didn’t wait. He continued his patrol and tried his best to ignore the strangely sweet smell continuously wafting his way. He liked it but he wasn’t sure if he should.
Ron once told Draco after the war, the sweet smell came from Hermione's shampoo.
Sorry for the delay. Two weeks! But here it is. The fifth chapter should be right on schedule next week as it's a bit like part two of this chapter. We'll be getting more fifth-year action. :D
*Also, Rathbone and Grabeel are actors—lol—born in 1984.