Relentless - A Dramione FanFic

First Night

They stood in stunned silence, none of them quite sure what to make of their unexpected living situation. Draco wanted nothing more than to lock himself away in his room in order avoid the inevitable confrontation, but he knew none of his three new roommates were going to let that happen, so he remained planted in his spot, waiting for one of them to speak. He trained his eyes onto a knot in the wood counter above the recently displaced stool.

Not surprisingly, Ron was the first to speak, addressing only his friends, hatred laced through every word he spat, "Can you believe McGonagall? Forcing us to live here with that filthy death eater."

Draco clinched his jaw slightly, and took several slow, drawn out breaths. Being called a death eater made his skin crawl, not that he could blame Ron for using that term towards him. By all outward appearances, he was one. In fact, he'd spent years making everyone believe that was the truth. They weren't just going to take him on his word that how he'd been was all an act. He longed to speak the truth to them, to her, but he knew actions had to come before words. He came back to Hogwarts to show people the real him. Telling them wouldn't be enough.

"Ronald," her voice was sharp and disapproving, yet it made Draco's heart skip, "Did you not hear one word of what Professor McGonagall just said? None of us want to be in this situation, but we can't change it, so can you at least try to make the best of it?"

"Hermione, if it were anyone else. Literally anyone else in our entire class, I would have no problems. None. But, him?" Ron threw his arm in Draco's general direction, "You can't tell me living under the same roof with Draco Malfoy for the next nine months is something you are considering with a positive attitude."

"I just want to finish school, Ron. Honestly. I simply want to graduate so I can move on to the next chapter of my life." She sounded tired and annoyed. "If I have to spend nine months ignoring someone I can't stand, then so be it. I've endured much, much worse. I am sure Professor McGonagall knows what she is doing and has verified Malfoy is here with no ill-intent. Can we please let this go right now? Its late and I need a good night's sleep if I'm going to be ready for classes tomorrow."

Hermione wasn't actually worried about sleeping, she just needed some alone time to process the reality of their situation. Ron was right... what was McGonagall thinking. It was one thing to allow him back into school, but she had to be out of her mind to think the four of them could live together peacefully for the next nine months. The boys had been on opposite sides from the moment they stepped into the castle. Hermione's malevolent feelings weren't initially as strong as theirs. She'd always sensed an underlying sadness behind Draco's hard exterior. One encounter with Lucius was all it took for Hermione to feel pity for the awful man's son, but when Draco became a death eater, it was like he'd signed a declaration of war. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if the boy standing in front of her was an unwilling victim of his circumstances. And then there was the theater incident. What the hell was she supposed to do with that?

"I think we can all agree on needing sleep, Hermione, but Ron's right. There are some things that need to be addressed with Malfoy. If you'd prefer to go to bed, Ron and I can fill you in in the morning." Harry stated matter-of-factly.

"No, I'd rather be part of any discussions." She was outnumbered. This was happening tonight so she might as well get on board. "Can we at least sit?" She asked, motioning to the couch and armchairs in front of the fireplace.

Harry and Ron bookended Hermione on the couch while Draco settled into an armchair.

"I'm not here to cause any trouble." Draco spoke before they had a chance. He sounded more confident than he felt. Looking at them for the first time, he saw pretty much what he'd expected from the boys...hatred and disgust. Hermione, however, surprised him. Her expression, though directed to her lap, was softer and contemplative. He could tell she was rolling something over in her mind. He was caught off guard when she raised her eyes to his.