The Balcony

Title: The Balcony

Author: vegetasbubble / nightmareintoxicated
Summary: Hermione finds out something interesting about her balcony.

Rating: Pg / M
Pairing: Well. It all depends on what way you want to read it. It can be Draco/Hermione, Hermione/Blaise, Draco/Blaise or even Draco/Hermione/Blaise. It’s all up to you.
Authors Notes: Wrote this in a new way to write Dramione. Set in 7th year. No HBP or DH.
Word Count:

 

When it had come in the mail, the tawny owl clutching the envelope in its talons tapping at her bedroom window, Hermione had thought it was her book lists and early information for her seventh and final year at Hogwarts. But when she had ripped the envelope open (Miss Hermione Granger it had read, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stamped across the back), and it had fallen into her hands, latterly, the gold plated badge feeling heavy in her hands, she gasped, screamed and nearly fainted.

Now, five months later and in the safety of her room late at night (it was around one, she thought) Head Girl Hermione Granger felt alone. Her room (shared with the head boy who was, ironically enough was Draco Malfoy) connected to a small bathroom shared with the Head Boy, which then connected to his room before both their doors entered the large common room (well stocked with couches, a small library, desks and a small kitchenette) before moving to the portrait (of a group of mermaids who were all attracted to Draco’s good looks) leading out of the room.

What Hermione loved most about the room, was the fact that there was a balcony attached to her window, a large open balcony that looked out across the whole back of the school, including the Quidditch Pitch and the entrance to the Forrest. But what Hermione noticed on her very first night of being Head Girl when she was standing out on her balcony at one o’clock in the morning, wind blowing her chestnut hair everywhere, was that Draco Malfoy – the Head Boy – had a balcony just like her’s, and stood on his at the same time she did- every single night.

Now what fascinated Hermione about Draco was his attitude that year. Everyone knew that he had joined the Death Eaters, and yet when they had all returned to Hogwarts that year, Draco had taken it upon himself to wear his sleeves on both arms up around his elbows, exposing his un-marked forearms for all to see. His fellow Slytherin and obviously good friend Blaise Zabini did the same, much to the dismay of fellow Slytherin’s who always kept their arms covered up.

Hermione didn’t have a problem with either boy that year. Not once was the “Mudblood” word spoken to her. When they bumped into each other, “Sorry” was the first word that Draco would say, followed by a smile from Blaise.

Maybe she should have been sickened at the thought that these two incredibly sexy boys were being, well, nice to her. Maybe she should have come up with a thought like…”Hey, you two! Stop being sexy assholes and start being rude pricks” or something like that. But no.

But it wasn’t the encounters in the hall, or the lack of Mudblood comments that had Hermione noticing the two Slytherin’s more. It was more so the fact that they were ALWAYS together. Quidditch Practice down on the Pitch where the Seeker and Captain, Draco, would work his team hard and fast against wind, snow or rain, including fellow Quidditch player and main Chaser, Blaise. In the library, the two would always be studying together, always at the same table, always by themselves.

She also noticed a lot of things that they had going on the same as one another. Like reading glasses. They wore the same black rectangle reading glasses when they were in the library, Draco would push them up his nose with his middle finger, and Blaise would pull them up by his ear. Maybe it was nothing, just stupid Gryffindor curiosity but for some reason, Hermione wanted to find out more about them both.

But as she lay in her bed at two in the morning, the gentle autumn breeze from the cool October air drifting in through her open balcony, Hermione grunted, annoyed that she couldn’t fall back asleep. Annoyed that she couldn’t sleep (Harry and Ron would most likely be snowing Mary Had a Little Lamb to each other and their roommates at this stage) she pushed her covers off her body and walked out onto her balcony.

As she leaned her hands against the smooth railing, her hands wrapping around the metal, Hermione looked up at the full moon, feeling like she could just reach out and grab it. Right now she felt like being at home, sitting in the cozy little living room in her parents Muggle home, Crookshanks rubbing up against her legs and jumping into her lap, while she nursed a steaming hot cup of coco, her mother and father telling her about their day at work, or just starring into the fireplace, forgetting everything.

“- listening, Granger?”

“Huh?” Snapping out of her wonderful daydream, Hermione turned her head to the source of the voice. There, standing on his balcony, shirtless, pale body glowing in the moonlight, was Draco Malfoy. “What?” He hadn’t spoken to her all year and now he was? Curiouser and Curiouser, said the Mudblood to the Ferret.

“I asked if you were okay, then you were dozing off, looked like you were about to fall,” Draco replied, his own hands wrapping around the metal bar of his balcony.

“What do you care?” Hermione sneered at him.

“I don’t,” he jeered back, removing one hand from the rail to hold against his hip –and what an elegant hip it was, were his fingers manicured?! They’re cleaner than mine! Ooohhh now that just steams by French fries- “But if I had to come up with an excuse, I wouldn’t be able to think of one, is all.”

“Hmm,” she replied, dropping the subject and looking back up at the moon. “Pretty,” she murmured, watching as a shooting star went by, her eyes closing and her mouth silently wishing for something. Draco watched her, annoyed that he didn’t know what she was doing yet overwhelmed by how peaceful she looked doing it. “- My wish tonight.” Opening her eyes, she smiled.

“What the hell was that all about?” Draco asked, crossing both pale arms over his well toned Quidditch worked chest.

“I made a wish,” she said, facing him, “it’s a Muggle tradition.”

“Figures,” he spat.

Silence. For a while they just stood there, soaking up the brisk morning air. When she looked over at him, she noticed that he was leaning against the rail once more, his back showing towards her. She gasped a little when she saw the inked skin that read Blaise in precise cursive writing. Draco looked up at her when he heard her gasp and followed her eyes, grinning when he saw where she was looking.

“Yes Granger,” Draco replied, “I have a tattoo with Blaise’s name. And if you also ask him, he will be able to show you that he has a tattoo with MY name.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re madly in love with each other, make love like wild rabbits behind the Quidditch sheds and moan that we both want you to be the mother of our babies,” Draco scoffed, grinning when he saw the shocked look on her face In my dreams Granger, “He’s my best bloody friend Granger, work it out.”

“I don’t have a tattoo of Harry’s or Ron’s name’s, that’s just weird,” she replied.

“Obviously you’re not happy and content with your friendship,” Draco said, “Blaise and I got these tattoos on our seventeenth birthdays. We told each other that no matter what we were going to stay best friends forever. If he chose to be on the light side and I chose Voldemort or visa versa, it wouldn’t put a strain on our friendship at all. Blaise and I have known each other since we were in diapers. We broke bones together, we stole cigarettes from my rich uncles when we were five, we got drunk together when we were ten on vodka and bottles of important wine.

“Now you tell me Granger, you’ve known Potter and Weasley since you were eleven. Have you ever done anything, apart from your whole “Lets save the world” stint, together as a group. Just you, and them?”

Thinking back, Hermione couldn’t really remember anything. In first year when she had met them, they hadn’t liked her to start with, because she was a know it all girl. It was only when a cave troll entered the school that their whole “Lets save the world” stint (as Draco put it) started. In second year when Harry joined Quidditch, that left her and Ron together. Talk about awkward feelings. In third year she didn’t even have the guts to tell them about her time turner and in fourth year, they all went to the Quidditch World Cup where Hermione was bored. Even during the Yule Ball, they managed to stay away from each other, Ron angry with her and Harry just stuck in the middle like always. It wasn’t until their fifth year that they got to do something together, but all that managed to be was the DA meetings, which would come into the “Lets save the world” stint.

Sighing heavily, Hermione wiped a tear away that she didn’t even realize fell.

“You’re right,” Hermione whispered, “happy?”

“No, not happy, actually,” Draco replied, and Hermione watched as he hopped over the railing between their rooms, landing on her balcony infront of her. “Best friends should be there for one another, show each other that they care.”

 

“But you and Blaise are obviously closer than I will ever be to Harry and Ron,” Hermione said.

 

“It’s because you haven’t known them as long as I have known Blaise,” Draco said, placing a soft hand on her shoulder, “A best friend, a true best friend, is a friend for life. Can you see that in either one of them?”

Tears now falling freely down her face, Hermione shook her head and startled was pulled into Draco’s arms as he hugged her tightly.

“Cry Hermione,” Draco whispered. “Just cry.”

Fin

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