Penesieve

Draco sighed unhappily sitting in the Hogwarts library. He kept himself tucked away in a dark corner with only his cronies Crabbe and Goyle. Their fathers had been Draco's father's cronies so it only seem fit to do the same.

"Crabbe," Draco demanded, "Who is that girl?"

Draco pointed to across the library where a little girl, probably his age, sat in a window. She had her knees tucked under her with a book in her lap. Her hair was huge and bushy, like a poodles. Draco wanted to pet it but knew that doing such an act would be weird.

"I dunno," Crabbe snickered.

"What about you, Goyle?" Draco questioned.

Goyle grunted in response, an obvious Draco clenched his fists, frustrated. He wanted to know who she was. The girl was always getting questions right and getting points for Gryffindor. Already being a Gryffindor, Draco knew that his father would never allow him to ask for her hand in marriage (not that he was already naming their kids or anything). He only hoped that she was from a pureblood family, maybe a very respected one, and his father would forget about her house.

"Then find me someone who does!" Draco exclaimed.

He gritted his teeth in anger. Everyone was so useless.

~~~~

"No one asked you, you filthy little mudblood," Draco sneered, staring down at the girl.

He'd finally learned who she was a little while before the end of first year. One of his friends with an actual intelligence, Blaise Zabini, had informed him. Her name was Hermione Granger, a pathetic name. And even worse; she was a muggleborn.

Draco regretted saying it the moment the word left his lips. It was clear she didn't know what a muggleborn was. Her confused expression, eyebrows scrunched and eyes misted over while she searched her mind for an answer, bloated across her face before turning into anger and . . . hurt.

Her eyes teared up, but Hermione blinked them away. She looked at a loss for words.

Draco felt a pit of guilt form in jail stomach, churning in an unfriendly way. His eyes widened for a millisecond before hardening over. As much as he didn't want to hurt Hermione, Draco also didn't want to upset his father. Not only would the infamous Lucius Malfoy be upset for Draco pawning after a Gryffindor mudblood, he'd be furious if Draco was kicked off the quidditch team - especially since he had spent a fortune on brooms.

"You'll pay for that," the redhead, whatever his name was, said, stepping forward with his taped up wand out.

The look Hermione gave him for standing up for her was enough to make Draco's heartbreak. He knew he would never be able to win her heart, not with the redhead in the way.

~~~~~

Draco felt the punch before it hit his face. There was nothing to stop it, nowhere to jump. Hermione's fist came flying at his face, colliding directly with his nose. He gasped and clutched his poor, injured face. Never in a million years would Draco have thought that she would actually punch him.

Theodore, oh thank Theo, came rushing to Draco's aid. He stood Draco up and rushed him up the hill along with Crabbe. As soon as they made it inside, Draco easily fixed his nose with a spell.

"Crabbe. Go."

Crabbe grunted, a talent he had picked up from Goyle, and trudged away. As soon as the baffoon was gone, Draco sighed and slid his back down the wall until he was sitting on the ground. He lowered his head between his hands and let out a strangled scream.

"You know, mate. She is literally going to kill you one of these days," Theo sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm so in love with her," Draco muttered, "I am going to lose my mind."

"There is a very good chance of that," Theo agreed.

~~~~

Draco absolutely loathed Ronald Weasley. He felt like punching the damned Weasel to a pulp. Draco hasn't sat at the Gryffindor table for fun. Not in a chance. He did it because Snape made him.

Draco was silently shaking with rage as he processed the conversation he'd just overheard. Nothing about it was right. How could Weasley disrespect her like that?

Draco couldn't begin to imagine how Hermione was feeling. Weasley has all but said he thought she was a boy all the way up until that point. Draco had to sit on his hands to keep them from drawing his wand and killing the redhead on the spot.

Subconsciously, at the very back of his mind, Draco's heart sank when he heard that Hermione already had a date to the ball. He wasn't planning on asking her, word would spread to quick and his life would be over. But still, just because he couldn't ask didn't mean he wanted her going with someone else.

Hell, at this point Draco would have been glad if she was going with Potter. Everything about their relationship was platonic. Draco took one last look at Weasley before slamming his homework down and storming out.

~~~~~

He hated it and loved it at the same time. Umbridge's twisted lips were in a sheet as she stated down at Potter. Draco ignored them completely, instead trying to restrain the girl in his arms.

Hermione was definitely a fighter. She kept stepping his toes and trying to pull away from him, but Draco couldn't let her go. Her hair was all over his face and it smelled faintly of vanilla. He held her arms behind her back, refusing to let go.

"What Cornelius does not know won't hurt him," Umbridge said, turning the Minister's photo face down on her desk.

Draco's heart thudded against his chest. He scrambled to find an idea that would get the Gryffindord and Lovegood out. Don't get him wrong, he couldn't care less about them. But Hermione cared so by extension, he had to care.

A thought flowed through his mind from earlier in the year. He remembered hiding out in the forbidden forest and overhearing Hagrid, the bloody oaf, talking to the golden three about a giant half brother.

Draco's eyes flicked up to Umbridge. She had her back turned. her full attention on Saint Potter. Draco leaned forward towards Hermione, still struggling in his arms.

"Grawp," he whispered in her ear.

Draco could practically see the gears turning in her head while she stopped struggling. He smirked to himself, knowing he had saved her from whatever fate Umbridge previously had planned.

~~~~~

Draco avoided her all year. His mind was constantly invaded by Voldemort anytime he was forced to take orders from the Dark Lord. He couldn't have Hermione on his mind - at all.

No matter how difficult it was to forget the beautiful image of her at Slughorn's Christmas party, he would. He would practically erase her from his mind. She could no longer exist.

~~~~~

It took everything not to run to her. His heart was tearing itself apart. With every scream that escaped her mouth, Draco's body ran cold. He felt numb watching his aunt stand over the girl he loved and cast spell after spell upon her.

Hermione screamed again and her entire body shook, writhing in pain. Bellatrix merely laughed a maniacal laughed and cast another spell.

Draco caught his mother's eye. She pursed her lips and shook her head. Draco's jaw tighted and he took a step forward before being paralyzed on the spot. He looked to his mother again. She was discreetly putting her wand away.

Draco tried to run to Hermione. He tried to plead with his aunt to stop. He tried to scream for Saint Potter and Weasel to come save the girl of his dreams. But he couldn't move and he couldn't speak - whatever spell cast upon him forbidding him from doing anything. And so silently, and without spilling tears, he sobbed along to her screams.

~~~~~

Draco stood over the penesieve reliving the memories. He saw the best and worst moments of his life, all having to do with Hermione.

In the middle of one from second year. Draco was ripped from the world. He fell backwards onto the floor of Dumbledore's office. The war was over and he had been trying for some privacy.

Draco groaned and held the back of his head, looking up at his attacker.

"Hermione," he breathed.

She looked a mess. Her hair was tangled and falling out of it's ponytail. Her clothes were torn and stained with blood and dirt. She had cuts and bruises covering her body. Still, she looked as beautiful as the night sky.

Hermione's jaw was set tight, teeth clenched, and wand pointed at Draco's throat.

"You pathetic " she growled, "How is that out of all of this we lost good ones - people better than you in so many ways - and you're still sitting here like the coward you are."

Draco immediately knew what was happening. His face drained of color. This couldn't be his end. He snatched his wand up off the floor and put it to his temple, drawing out one last memory. He flying it into the penesieve.

"You wish there was another way," Hermione whispered, "But rotting for years in Azkaban will never put you through the same torture and fear that good, decent people were put through tonight."

"Hermione, think about this," Draco pleaded.

"You and your family ripped away from their parents. Your took away parents from their children. So many families died here tonight. And so will you," she finished.

"Hermione stop!" Draco demanded.

"Goodbye, Malfoy. And may my face be the last thing you ever see," she whispered.

Draco's eyes filled with tears. He knew it was going to happen, and their would be no stopping it.

"I love you," he whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear, flicking another memory into the penesieve.

"Hermione answered.

And with a flash of green light, Draco's body lay motionless in the floor.

~~~~~

This time it was Hermione's turn to be pulled back into reality. She was breathing heavily terrified by all of Draco's memoried she had just witnessed including him confessing his love for her.

She slowly turned her head to the body of Draco, who she had just killed with her own wand.

And Hermione screamed.