Obliviate : A Dramione fanfiction

03.

Hermione couldn't stop thinking about Draco. It was starting to interfere with her studies – much irritation.
He'd sent her an owl saying a time and place for them to meet and since then something was constantly stirring in her stomach.
As Pansy and Hermione worked on their final Charms thesis review, Hermione kept thinking about what would happen in the evening. Draco had instructed her to meet at the Astronomy Tower at half eleven.

"Could you concentrate, please?" Pansy was clearly impatient.
"Sorry, my mind is somewhere else at the moment,"

Pansy raised her eyebrows and clicked her tongue in reply.

***

The last time Hermione had been to the Astronomy Tower was in her first year with one Harry Potter, to steal away Norbert(a) the baby Hungarian Horntail. She was reminiscing of times past when she thought she heard the lightest of footsteps. Upon turning, she saw Draco. His white hair was made of moonlight, his eyes full of stars, making up their own sky.
"Good evening, Hermione."
"Good evening, Draco."
The two opposites stared at each other before Draco suddenly dropped to the cold floor, crossing his legs – Hermione carefully followed suit as he began his tale.

"Please keep in mind I grew up an only child with only my parents and the house elf for company; sometimes, Luscious would bring over the other Death Eater's children as playmates for me, so I was constantly surrounded by blood purity and dark magic supporters when I was at my most influential point in life.
"I was raised in an atmosphere of regret that You-Know-Who had not succeeded in taking command of the wizarding community, although I was prudently reminded that such sentiments ought not to be expressed outside of the small family/ friend circle or father might get into trouble.

"Of course, I'd heard stories of the Boy Who Lived and there were many theories as to how Potter had survived what should have been a fatal attack. The theory that my family supported and learned me of was the theory that Potter himself was a great Dark wizard. Preposterous, I know but that is besides my point. It was comforting to my father to think of a second chance of world domination. So, I thought, maybe if I extended my hand of friendship to Potter, I would gain at least some approval from my father. And then Potter refused me for an already formed allegiance to that Weasly, turned me against him – I realised that the wild hopes of the ex-Death Eaters are completely unfounded and frankly, stupid.

"As, at the time, my father was the most impressive person I thought I knew, I modeled my behavior after him. He was respected and wealthy and I thought that if I acted like him, I would be assured wealth and respect. So I acted with disdain and a contemptuous manner to everyone outside of my own inner circle.
"I see now my actions and feelings towards Potter were mainly that of envy. Envy that he never sought fame, yet was unquestionably the most talked-about and admired person at school and naturally jarred with a boy who had been brought up to believe that he occupied an almost royal position within the wizarding community; envy at his natural talent of flying, a skill I had prided my self on to out-shine and astound all the other first years; envy at his closeness to you."
Malfoy had held Hermione's gaze for whole of his sad monologue until that point, a sad tear had began its dance in the corners of his eyes.

"I've resorted to many dirty tactics in my quest to get under the skin of Harry Potter, which also deflected onto you. I've never felt remorse to how I acted towards Potter and Weasly, but I have towards you. That's why I started writing those apology letters. The way you exceeded in every aspect of wizarding life, despite having never known it before. Hermione, you changed my perspective on muggle descendants, and the wizarding world all together."

Unable to form comprehendible speech, all Hermione could do was soak up all that he had said like a sponge.

Without knowing what she was doing, Hermione surged into Draco's lap, hugging with force she did not know she possessed. But Draco was hugging her back, crying softly into her, whispering something over and over, that Hermione couldn't quite make out – but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Hermione had scratched the surface of the real Draco Malfoy.