Dark Harmonies

Closet Calls and Last Letters

Draco Malfoy was stuck in Hermione Granger's broom closet. His luck had finally turned on him, he thought to himself. He still had Weasley's vial of of Felix Felicis, he thought with a start. But he didn't want to waste it. Not just yet.

And so, Draco lay crouched in the dark closet, behind long winter coats and Muggles clothes. They smelled of the Hogwarts laundry detergent and faint citrus smell. Was this what Granger smelled like, he wondered.

He saw, through the slats in the closet door, the object of his wonder walk into her room the heels of hands jammed into her eyes. She was trying not to cry, he realized, and succeeded apparently because her face suddenly hardened, chin jutting out stubbornly.

"That dung brained, foul breathed flubberworm!" She screamed and launched herself onto the bed, burying her face into the pillow.

Draco saw her small form, shake a little. He remembered Granger's anger, how in third year she'd called him a cockroach. Then followed it up a splendid right hook. He'd had the black eye for days, and though Crabbe and Goyle had been too scared to laugh at his face, they no doubt sniggered behind his back. Draco shook his head at himself. It was just three years ago, and yet he'd changed so much. Had he really been that much of a prick? He'd probably deserved the punch to the face.

Now, looking at the same person crying angry tears, she wondered is she had changed too. It would indeed be a shame if she did. He quite admired the girl who'd punched him.

There was a knock on the door.

"Its open" said Granger, wiping her face, trying to look aloof and failing miserably.

"Mione?" came Potter's voice. His luck had turned from bad to worse then, Draco silently remarked to himself.

"Come in, Harry" she said, and made space for him on the bed.

Potter came into the room, and sat by her, his back to the closet, and Draco in it.

"Mione are you okay?" Asked Potter, taking her hand. So there really was something going on with them, he wondered and remembered the potions class. It's wouldn't be surprising, Granger was rather attractive. The Chosen One and The Brightest Witch of the Age. It wouldn't be a bad pairing, he thought, but a feeling of discomfort had lodged itself at the pit of his stomach.

"I'm fine" said Granger, resting her head on Potter's shoulder. Were they gonna snog! His day went from worse to the absolute worst. Draco had never imagined a day would come when he'd be forced to watch Potter snog Granger. He'd rather die.

"Ron is an idiot, Hermione " said Potter. "He doesn't really like Lavender Brown, you know that. He just likes the attention."

Granger snorted. "I don't see you running around for attention" , she said. At this, Draco almost snorted.

"And still I somehow get the worst of it" Potter grumbled. "You saw those first years, falling off their brooms, and that 4th year girl gang! I swear that Vane girl is too much!"

Granger let out a small laugh, "How are the trials going then?"

"The Chasers are good, and Ron's the keeper so that's that. But I don't know why everyone wants to be a beater suddenly!" Said Potter, in an exasperated tone.

Granger laughed in earnest this time, a bright cheerful sound. "They're the last two spots, Harry, and everyone wants to be on your team. You really don't understand how much people admire you do you?" Said Granger, shaking her head.

"I don't get why. Everyone know's I couldn't have done anything without you Mione. Not in first year, not the Basilisk, I couldn't have saved Sirius, I couldn't have survived the tournament or even last year without you. And with Sirius gone, I need you more than ever", said Potter in a pained tone.