A Piece of Forever

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter an I am not JKR. The only things I own are the plot and Loki.

A/N:This chapter and the next will be a series of flashbacks to explain how Draco and Hermione came to fall in love.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed- I love all of you! :)

Jo> Loki didn't write the article on Hermione being the third party. Being a reporter, she is naturally very curious and wants to unearth the truth about Draco, ALyssa and Hermione's love triangle. i'm very sorry I didn't make that point clear. I hope my explanation clears everything for you!


Chapter Ten:


Hogwarts
Third Year

Draco knew he was going to be in deep trouble when he saw that look on Granger’s face. Oh shit, he thought as she raised her hand, grimacing.

And then there was ringing crack and Merlin, she had slapped him!

Her eyes widened as if she was shocked by herself then she met his eyes in horror.

Draco stared right back, speechless. His cheek was smarting in pain. He took one look at her flushed face and heaving chest and just like that, he was hard as rock He was mortified. He clenched his robes around himself to hide the evidence of his arousal and ran. He couldn’t believe that had just happened.

That was the very first time he ever thought of Hermione Granger other than as the Gryffindor know-it-all Mudblood.

~

Hogwarts
Fourth Year

Hermione was nervous. She was holding onto Victor’s arm and God, she was scared. She was trembling! She swallowed and forced a smile onto her face.

Ron was jealous, she noticed in delight. He was practically purple. Good, she thought smugly. She wanted to make him jealous. She wanted to show him that she could be pretty. Apparently it had worked too well, she felt many male gazes transfixed on her and one gaze was particularly disturbing. It was making every hair on her body stand.

She turned to see who it was and found herself drowning in gray eyes. It was Malfoy. Pansy was hanging onto his arm, beaming but he was taking no notice of her. He was looking at her with an intensity that brought heat to her cheeks..

She turned away quickly. She tried to slow her breathing and push the thought of Malfoy actually looking good in those dress robes out of her mind.

~

Hogwarts
Fifth Year

Her hair smelt like lemons and oranges.

He couldn’t figure why he noticed such things about her. He never notice how other girls smelt and even if he did, it wouldn’t affect him this much.

When she passed him, she would leave behind an intoxicating trail of tangy citrus smell that Draco soon realized only he noticed.

Sitting behind her in class would kill him. His eyes would be transfixed on her, the way her blouse stretched over her body when she raised her hand excitedly to answer questions drove him mad. He would marvel at the way the sun hit her hair in that perfect angle that made her curls glow bright golden. He would notice all the small things about her that no one else bothered to notice- like how she chewed on her bottom lip when she was deep in though, how she tugged at her shirt when she was nervous, and how she threw back her head when she laughed.

He would sit, mesmerized in class, although on the outside, he was careful to put on a sneer so that no one would see through him. Sometimes, to get a laugh out of his friends, he would imitate her, jumping up and down in her seat, doing a buck toothed imitation of her, but his eyes would always still be staring at her, hoping that just once, she would turn around and pay some attention to him.

She always told Potter and Weasley not to pay attention to him, that he was just trying to get a rise out of them and that he was not worth it. Didn’t she know that he did all that just so that for once, she would be the one to actually look at him and respond to him, instead of Potter and Weasley.

He knew she hated him. He could tell from the way she crinkled her nose in disapproval when he taunted her two precious best friends. Sometimes, she would shoot him dirty looks, and Draco would glare right back, but deep inside he would be singing because today, she looked at him again, although it was with a look of disgust but hey, at least she noticed him.

For once, just once, Draco thought as he watched her tip her head at laugh at something Weasley had said, he would want to be able to sit next to her and smile at her and if he was lucky enough, he would want to run his fingers through all that brown hair, bury his face in them and breathe so that her scent could fill every cell in his body.

~

Hogwarts
Sixth Year

Hermione heard about it.

All the girls were talking about it in the loo. She heard their laughter and chatter while she brushed her hair.

Draco Malfoy actually cried in Moaning Myrtle’s lavatory.

Apparently, Myrtle told Lavender and Parvati about it and well, which basically meant telling the whole Gryffindor house.

They laughed, of course; after all he had made most of the Gryffindors miserable. They all seemed to think he deserved whatever had made him break down but Hermione was oddly comforted by the fact that he had cried. That somehow told her he had a spark of humanity inside him.

She had seen him around and he looked mostly exhausted and paler than usual.

She had been tempted to go up to him and comfort him, but even she had laughed at that thought. She was the Gryffindor mudblood for heaven’s sake and he was Mr. Draco I’m-Pureblood-and-better-than-you-so-don’t-come-near-me-you-little-Mudblood Malfoy.

She saw him the Library that day.

If she had to pick one particular moment to mark the point of time when she actually fell in love with him, it would be that day.

She was finishing up her Potions essay during dinnertime and the library was empty as usual, seeing that everyone else was having dinner.

He had come in and started to pull books off shelves, stacking them up in his arms and then he had plonked down in a chair and began to take notes in deep concentration.

She watched him, she couldn’t help it- he was too mesmerizing to tear her eyes away.

He paused and looked up, frowning. He stared at her with an expression of confusion. She swallowed and quickly turned away, but she was still looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

He looked at her for a long time before resuming his work and Hermione found that under his stare every muscle in her body tensed and every nerve ending in her body were tingling and on edge.

And then he spoke to her.

“Granger,” he had said, without a hint of malice. “Do you know where I can find this book?”

He held out a list and pointed to the one he had marked with a star. “This one.”

Hermione leaned closer to look. “I don’t think the school library has this book,” she said hesitatingly.

“Oh,” he nodded. “Ok, thanks.” He turned to leave.

“Wait,” she stopped him.

“Yes?”

“I have it,” she said.

He met her eyes, unsure of what to say. Given their history, she wondered if he would dare to ask to borrow it.

“Where did you get it?” He asked finally.

“Flourish and Blotts stock it,” she murmured, slightly disappointed. She would have liked for him to pick up the courage to ask her for it.

“Thanks, I’ll go get it,” He inclined his head in thanks and returned to his seat.

Hermione stood unmoving at the table she had occupied for a few moments before stuffing her essay and her books into her bag. She rushed back to her dorm, opening her trunk and rummaging around before pulling out a leather-bound book. She hugged it close to her chest and made her way back to the library.

She skidded to a stop at the table he had been in, startled to find it empty.

She turned back slowly, her heart sinking.

“Granger.”

She squeaked in surprise, whirling around. He was standing, half hidden by a shelf, carrying his bag. He was still there, she realized, a blush rising to her face.

“Oh, you’re still, uh… I mean,” she stammered.

He looked faintly amused by her and waited for her to form a sentence.

“Here,” she mumbled at last, wincing inwardly at her inability to form a legible sentence. She pushed the book onto the table and raced out of the library.

Three days later, during breakfast a package arrived for her.

None of her friends took notice. She found the small precise handwriting on the package unfamiliar.

She peeled it open and quickly sealed it back when she realized that it was her book.

She looked up, twisting around to look at the Slytherin table. He was there but he did not catch her eye. He was busy buttering a piece of toast and talking to Blaise Zabini.

She was unsettled for the rest of the day somehow and she only tore open the package at night when she was about to sleep.

There was a note pressed between the pages that read- Thanks. I found what I was looking for.

She wondered what he had been looking for.

~

She finally knew what he had found within the pages of her book, as she watched Snape shout his name as they fled.

She stood, frozen to the ground as she watched him run.

She had helped him succeed in this. He had found the spell in her book.

And now Dumbledore was dead. She lifted a hand to cover her mouth; tears streaming freely down her cheeks.

As though he could sense her watching him, he turned around briefly. Their gazes locked and Hermione shook her head at him, overwhelmed with grief.

He bent his head in silent apology and then he vanished.

Ron came up behind her and put his arm around her shoulders. She suddenly realized that this had been the moment she had been waiting for such a long time- for Ron to put his arms around her.

But when he pressed her head against his chest to let her cry, all she wanted was for Draco Malfoy to hold her hand just so she could see if it felt as wonderful as she imagined it to be.


~*~

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