Harry Potter Oneshots

Stars and Scars [DRAMIONE]

This takes place after the war, when Hermione and Draco go back to Hogwarts to finish their seventh year there.

|| Draco Malfoy ||

I sigh wearily, making my way up to the astronomy tower. Alone. It's after hours, but I don't care about that, really.

After the end of the second wizarding war, and the defeat of Voldemort, I got offered a place back at Hogwarts. I accepted the offer almost immediately; I wanted to start fresh, and the first step to that was completing my education.

See, if I had not accepted this opportunity, people would think I thought of myself as superior. I can't blame them, though. My father acted like that, just because he was pure blooded, and scowled in the presence of any muggleborn. Or mudblood - as he would say.

It's sort of nice, now that he's away. I know I shouldn't be happy he's locked in a miserable cell in Azkaban, and I'm not, honestly. But it's nice not being under pressure, pressure from your father, teaching you that wizards and witches born to muggles were different - that they should be treated differently.

I finally get to the tower, and push open the door silently. The silver moonlight shines brightly, illuminating the floor and my pale features. I let the corner of my lips twitch upwards, into a small smile. It's just like every night; the bright moon, contrasting against the inky black sky, accompanied by the twinkling stars.

Except, as my gray-blue eyes sweep the tower, they land on something else the moon illuminates. A small figure sits, slumped against the wall, looking up at the stars. I walk closer hesitantly, as the person did not seem to notice me entering.

When I get close enough, I can make out the brown, bushy hair of Hermione Granger. She sniffs a couple of times, and I notice the silent tears flowing down her rosy cheeks. My heart betrays me, as I feel it sinking, empathising with the intelligent girl sitting on the ground in front of me.

"Evening, Granger." I say quietly. She jumps, her head snapping up and her brown eyes meeting my gray-blue ones. She looks at me, very obviously confused - as to why I haven't made a hurtful remark yet, most likely. "Mind if I sit?"

I try. She ponders, before nodding her head slowly. I sit a good distance away, but closer than I would've a few years back. She continues to gaze at the stars littering the sky, and I do the same. After a while, I find myself assessing her.

Her hair is definitely less bushy than what it was at age eleven, and her features are more feminine. Her skin is slightly tanned, there are freckles on her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose. She's rolled up her sleeves, so that her forearms are visible.

That's when it catches my eye. The silver light of the moon making the scratchy marks shine like unicorn blood. Scars. Scars lay clear as day on her left forearm, the lines creating one, hurtful, disgusting word - mudblood.

I remember when this happened - when my own aunt carved the horrendous word into her skin, so this girl would never forget what so many messed up people thought her to be. A mudblood. My blood boils as a memory resurfaces, a memory of me calling her a mudblood, and I feel horrible now. I wish I could take it back - all of it. I wish that I had been stronger, I wish that I'd had the courage to fight for what I knew was right. I wish, I really do, that I had made better decisions back then.

"What?" She asks upon realising I'm staring at her arm. I glance up at her, and notice there's no hate in her eyes, only curiosity and puzzlement. I look back down at her arm, to the scars that shine brightly under the moon and stars, so much so, that they almost seem luminescent.

"I'm sorry." When we make eye contact again, her eyebrows are slightly furrowed, and she opens her mouth to say something, but I answer her question. "I'm sorry for what- what my family put you through. I mean, I watched her do that to you... and I did nothing, even though I knew it was wrong. So I'm sorry, Granger. I'm sorry about my aunt, my family, all the purebloods that thought themselves superior. And I'm sorry for the war my people created."

She seems utterly surprised and bewildered, that I - Draco Malfoy - was apologising. And to her of all people, no doubt. When neither of us say anything, I direct my gaze upwards again, up to the stars.

"Thank you." She whispers, extremely quietly, so that I wouldn't have been able to hear her if not for the calm silence that lay in between us. I'm surprised she would even think of saying thank you to me, the person who continuously bullied her, Potter and Weasley. "I'm not the only one with scars. You have them too, I know."

My head snaps to her. I don't know how, but we end up telling each other stories from the war, about origins of certain scars. I find myself quite enjoying Granger's company, she's not too bad when she's not busy jabbing her wand at my throat.

And, to be honest, I can see myself becoming friends with her. Who knew that one day, the two of us would be sitting and talking, being perfectly civil under the stars? I certainly didn't.

|| Word count: 900 ||

So, I don't actually ship Dramione that much... but I think they're sorta kinda cute. And believe it or not, J.K. actually considered the romance between them. The reason she didn't actually put it in the series, was because it was such a major plot twist and would've been really difficult.

And, according to her, she was going to make it so that the reason Draco was so mean to her was because he had a crush on her. Just read this vv

Even if it's not real, you can't change my mind, no matter how hard you try...