Chapter Three

Hermione's POV:

"You're a jerk." I mutter, taking large steps away from him onto the shore. I wasn't going to let him drag me back into the water.

"You are too." He follows behind me, stopping when I turn around and shoot daggers. "I wouldn't have done it if you didn't started it." He smirks now walking beside me.

"What? That you-"

"No. We no longer speak of that, okay. Erase it from your memory. Obliviate it if you have to." He shakes his head while letting out a small laugh.

"How about no. I think I'd much rather have it to use as blackmail." I smirk.

"You, using blackmail? I'd love to see it."

"When I get the chance, I will. And you'll be my main target."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

"I will!" I reply, hitting his shoulder playfully. We walk back to the small beach, and sit there laughing together for an hour or so. I found it very comforting to be around Draco. We talked about our past, mostly what happened 1997-1998. "Before the war, I saw a newspaper saying that a muggle family had been murdered. My parents being muggles, and in close association with me, I had to obliviate them. I sent them off to Australia for a while. Last year before I had moved in with Ron, I went searching for them. I asked people if they knew a couple named Wendell and Monica Wilkins. Those were the identities that I gave them to protect them from death eaters. They had died the year before." I dry the tears that had fallen from my eyes. "So I went to their burial place and mourned. I apologized, saying how I wished I had been there when they took their last breath."

"You're parents are dead. Mine aren't physically dead, but to me they are. My father forced me into joining the dark side. My mother picks him over me, so here I am. Living with you in the middle of a forest." He laughs, trying to diffuse the tension.

"How do you think our friends would react to us living together?" I ask. "Pure-blood and mud-blood. Living together in peace." I shake my head.

"I don't have friends." He frowns. "When I escaped after the war, I abandoned Zabini and Parkinson." He states. "We should go back, it's almost 12." He pushes himself off the sand with ease, then offers a hand to me.

"And why should I trust you?" I ask, rising off the ground without taking his hand.

"I don't have reason to do anything to you. I already got back at you for mentioning 'it'." He smiles apologetically.

"I don't believe that."

"Suit yourself then, Granger."

"Whatever Malfoy."

We walk back to the cottage in silence. Every so often our arms would brush each other's and I would get goosebumps. I don't know why though. Enemies for half our lives. Only became friends a few day ago. There was no reason for me to feel like that. Being with him was different. When I was with Ron, it was as if being with an old friend, which technically he was, but we had been engaged. When I'm with Malfoy, it's fun. We get each other, we understand one another's past's. He was what kept me happy each day. Did I just say that Malfoy made me happy? No, that's a lie! It was a lie. He was just a friend taking me in until I found a place of my own. Right?

Draco's POV:

I liked being around Granger. She understood me. She didn't think that I was just a bad guy, she knew what really happened. Unlike her friends, who thought of me as the 16 year old death eater. She knew my whole story. She knew what my father did, she knew I hardly had parents growing up. She knew everything. And I trusted her with my life, I trusted Hermione Granger.

"He's surprisingly comforting." She mutters as we walk up the stone path to my cottage. I don't reply, assuming she didn't mean for me to hear that. I didn't want to embarrass her, but I found it nice that I was comforting to her. She was my only friend, I didn't want to loose her as I had Zabini and Parkinson. She was the only person I had. The only person I could rely on.

"Home sweet home." I smile while unlocking the door, and holding it as Granger walks through. "Thank you." I say, closing the door behind me.

"No problem. It was fun." She replies. "Just not the part where you dragged me into the water." She smiles sarcastically. "I'm going to go change now." She then leaves the room, and I hear as she closes the door after entering her room.

Hermione's POV:

I quickly close and lock the door to my room after entering it. I then quickly change into an old pair of sweatpants, and a baggy shirt. Something comfortable. We weren't going anywhere else for the rest of the day. "I'm making lunch!" Malfoy exclaims from the kitchen.

"Really? I didn't know you could cook!" I reply in the same volume.

"You thought I'd been eating microwavable food for a year and a half? And they call you the brightest witch of our generation." He laughs back.

"No. You're an idiot. Can you not take a joke?" I ask, coming out of my room.

"I didn't know you had sense of humor." He laughs. A wonderful smell floats through the house. I then realize that wasn't the food, and instead a candle. You are so stupid. I laugh to myself.

"What's so funny, Granger?" He asks, reminding me of his third year self for some odd reason.

"Nothing." I reply. "We really should get on a firs name basis. There's no telling how long we'll live together. Don't you think referring to each other by last names could get tiring?"

"Okay. So from now on I'll call you Hermione, and-"

"I'll call you Draco." I smile softly. "Well, that's settled. What's for lunch?"

"Food." He replies, hardly answering my question.

I roll my eyes. "Very helpful, Draco." His name rolling off my lips was different. Over time, I adapted to saying Malfoy. I assumed he had gotten used to calling me Granger, but that would remain undiscovered. I liked the name coming from my mouth. Draco. Hermione Malfoy? No, I wasn't seeing how my name would sound with his last name. That would be absurd. He would never take muggle born Hermione Granger as anything other than a friend. I would never take him as more than a friend either. We'd only seen each other the other day. I was not thinking about him all the time. Draco Malfoy is no more than a friend. A friend, who just so happens to be my current roommate. Just friends. Was it bad that I had to remind myself that we were just friends? Yes. No. I don't know. Sometimes life can be so confusing. We were just friends. Right?

Draco's POV:

She came into the kitchen in sweats and an oversized shirt, which somehow she made it look nice. What, no. Granger doesn't look nice in that. She looks the same as usual. It was bad that I had to remind myself of that. Remind myself that she looked the same as usual. I didn't find her attractive. I couldn't find her attractive. Just because my parents didn't care about me, didn't mean that I didn't need their opinion. They raised me. Not right, but they still but food on my plate and a roof over my head. That was all I really needed, but they gave me more than that. In the second year, my father bought the Slytherin quidditch team Nimbus 2001 because that was the only way I would get on the team. Sure, I was an okay seeker, but not as good as Harry had been. 'At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got it on pure talent.' Hermione had said that on the Hogwarts ground when their team had tried to practice that morning. She was right. Yes, I was good, just not good enough. It was probably my fault we hadn't won any quidditch matches that year. When Higgs was the seeker, the team did well. We won against Gryffindor, but I changed that. It was my fault we hardly won any matches. 'They got it on pure talent.' She was right. I needed to learn to fend for myself, and so I did. I had a house that I had built. Without the help from anybody. I was proud, I was better than I had been.

Hermione's POV:

15 or so minutes later he had finished the food. "Grilled cheese?" I ask. "That's surprising."

"Oh. Is there something wrong? I can make you something else, I just figured-

"No no no, it's perfect. Just you being a pureblood, I neve assumed you'd like muggle food." I laugh, and he joins in quietly. I hope saying that wasn't offensive. It's not offensive. Right? Right. I didn't find it offensive, but then again I was muggle born. He was a pureblood. There were many 'cultural' differences between the two. "Me assuming that wasn't offensive, right? I just-"

"No, not offensive at all. I expected to get the question eventually." He replies, grinning.

"Alright, I just wanted to make sure. I know that being raised with wizards and being raised with muggles have their differences." I smile back.

"Right. I understand." We then resume eating in almost complete silence. The wind had picked up, and although before, it had been quite sunny, clouds covered the sky and it was raining lightly.

"What are some things that comfort you?" I ask, tilting my head to the side.

Draco's POV:

"What are some things that comfort you?" She asked, tilting her head to the side slightly.

"You." I say under my breath. She jerks her head to look at me, I then realize she could've heard that. Mistakes have been made.

"What was that? Did you say that I comforted you?" She asks in almost a mocking tone. So she had heard what I said. She had heard the truth. That she comforted me, that she was something that made me feel safe.

Hermione's POV:

Did I hear him correctly? Yes. No. I didn't comfort him. I punched him in the nose third year, that was not comforting. How did he find me comforting? In no way was I comforting to him. I heard him wrong.

"No." He replies, turning a deep red. So maybe I had heard correctly. Maybe I was comforting to him. NO! Listen to your head Hermione. You're just hearing things! Right, my head was always right. It was right from the time I was 11-19.Why wouldn't it be right now? My head was right. I was and would always be muggle born Hermione Jean Granger. Ex fiancé of Ron Weasley. Best friend of Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley. Nothing more than a friend to anybody I knew. Nothing more than a friend. I was right. I was always right.

"What do you find comforting then?" I ask again.

"I don't really know. I guess Hogwarts, but we haven't been there in years. I used to find my mum comforting, but that's obviously changed." He replies sadly. "What do you find comforting?"

"There's the river I took you to earlier, rain, Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade." I reply. "Professor McGonagall." I answer. She had always been comforting. She wasn't a regular teacher. She helped students when they most needed it.

Flashback:

We had gone back to Hogwarts in search of a Horcrux. At the time we hadn't found it, and were in the great hall. "And Potter-" Professor McGonagall had said. Harry then turned around at her voice. "it's good to see you." She smiled kindly at him.

"It's good to see you too, Professor." He gave the same smile to her then ran off to look for Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem.

End of Flashback:

"Mrs. Weasley." I smile again. "Both of them are like mothers to me. Especially Mrs. Weasley. She took care of me as though I was her child. Come to think of her, she still doesn't know Ron and I broke up." I say in a shocked voice. I had to tell her eventually, hopefully that didn't change our mother-daughter like relationship.

"Well then, why don't we go to their house-

"It's called the burrow'." I correct him.

"The burrow, and we can tell her together." He smiles.

"Maybe I should go by myself, I don't want her getting the wrong idea." I reply while pointing at the two of us.

"I doubt it. Doesn't she know we used to despise each other." We both laugh at the thought. Now we were practically best friends."

"Right. I'd forgot about that." This was the truth. Us becoming friends and learning more about each other the past few day had changed what I thought of him. There was nothing wrong with him, just the way he was raised. Maybe if he was raised by the Weasley's, then he would've been happier growing up. He didn't have any siblings, the closest thing he had to a friend was Dobby. Dobby the free elf, who was now buried behind shell cottage. Maybe now, he'd actually changed. I hoped it was that, and that he's not just playing a game. I'd already dealt with too much. My parents were dead, I broke up with my fiancé a few days ago, if Draco hurt me, I don't know what I'd do. Right now, he was the only thing that mad me happy, the only thing that kept me 'alive'. Right now, Draco was my best friend. What? No. He's not my best friend, Harry is. Harry was my best friend, I think. What if he'd sided with Ginny? Maybe he had chosen the Weasley's over me? But there was no reason to have to choose. Just because Ron and I weren't on speaking terms, didn't mean Harry and I couldn't be friends. Right. We weren't the 'Golden Trio' anymore, but I would remain Harry.

Draco's POV:

Ron and Hermione had broken up a few days ago. I had to take her to see Mrs. Weasley sometime soon, and I wouldn't let her go alone. What if that weasel was there, and tried to blame her for the 'departure'? It wasn't her fault at all, it was his, and would always be his fault. He hurt her, and if Hermione wouldn't try to stop me, I'd hurt him. I have experience, being a death eater and all. I knew how to handle things. I knew that I had to follow the rules. Voldemort had threatened to use the Cruciatus Curse on me if I didn't give my best effort to repair the vanishing cabinet and kill Dumbledore. I couldn't do it though. He was my headmaster, and as Professor Fenrir Greyback had said, I didn't have the gut to do it. He was right.

Flashback:

I was on my way to murder the headmaster of Hogwarts when I heard voices, more than just his. I was right outside the astronomy tower, but I paused to listen. I couldn't distinguish the second voice, so I then proceeded to walk toward my headmaster. "Good evening, Draco. What brings you here on this fin, spring evening?" Dumbledore asked as I approached with my wand somewhat steady in my hands.

"Who else is here? I heard you talking." I approach him, stopping a few meters away, both hands on my wand, trying to steady it. He turned around with a straight expression on his face.

"I often talk aloud to myself. I find it extraordinarily useful. Have you always been to yourself, Draco? Draco, you are no assassin." He replied, taking a step toward me.

"How do you know what I am? I've done things that would shock you!" I shout. His expression remains unchanged from how it was before I began shouting. I now had tears in my eyes, and was trying to fight them.

"Oh, like cursing Katie Bell and hoping that in return she would bear a cursed necklace to me? Like replacing a bottle of mead with one lace with poison. Forgive me, Draco, I cannot help feel these actions are so weak that your... heart can't really have been in." He knew that I had done all of that. But how? I hadn't told anybody, but as usual he knew everything.

"He trusts me. I was chosen." I roll my left sleeve up to reveal the dark mark that was gifted in turn to joining the dark lords side.

"I shall make it easy for you." He holds his wand back, and is surprisingly calm, as if he'd been ready for me to kill him.

" Expelliarmus!" I shout, and his wand flies backwards, but doesn't fly off the balcony.

"Very good. Very good. You're not alone. There are others. How?"

"The Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement. I've been mending it." I answer.

"Let me guess, it has a sister." His face remains calm. This was more of a statement, he probably knew. What was he, 150 years, give or take a few.

" A twin. In Borgin and Burkes. They form a passage." I reply, still fighting the tears that were building in my eyes.

"Ingenious. Draco, years ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices. Please let me help you." He replies, and I assumed he was talking about Tom Riddle, now known as Voldemort.

"I don't want your help. Don't you understand? I have to do this. I have to kill you. Or he's gonna kill me." I reply. The tears were now harder to fight back. I didn't want Dumbledore dead, but I had no choice, I was 16, I didn't want to die.

"Well, look what we have here. Well done, Draco." My aunt emerges from where I had a few minutes before. She was now breathing against my neck, edging me on.

"Good evening, Bellatrix. I think introductions are in order, don't you?" Dumbledore says.

"Love to, Albus, but I'm afraid we're on a bit of tight schedule. Do it!" She shouts from the corner, the death eaters were now at her side and were also watching me.

"He doesn't have the stomach. Just like his father. Let me finish him in my own way." Greyback sneers from beside Bellatrix.

"No, the Dark Lord was clear the boy has to do it." She says this while looking at Greyback. "This is your moment, Draco. Do it! Go on, Draco, now!" She shouts, and my hands begin to shake even more.

"No." Snape emerges from beneath us, and walk towards the headmaster. This was when Dumbledore began to tense slightly, he was scared of Professor Snape.

"Severus. Please..." Dumbledore pleads, but before he could finish-

"Avada Kedavra." Professor Snape had used the killng curse on my headmaster, and Dumbledore had fallen backwards, off the balcony, dead.

End of Flashback:

This was how my potions professor had murdered my headmaster. Snape prevented me from performing it, which I probably wouldn't have done. I didn't have the stomach to kill Dumbledore. Could you blame me?

Third Person POV:

Snape killed Dumbledore. But that was years ago, Severus was now dead as well. Now The Dark Lord was dead, and most was well in the world again. Most death eaters were in Azkaban, which was a good thing. Hermione Granger had to confess to her now ex-mother-in-law, and Draco would accompany her. These next few events would play out...nicely.