Pure as Mud
Chapter 1
Filthy Mudblood, that’s what he’d called her when they met in their first year, she couldn’t help but think that he’d changed his tune a little since then. Hermione laughed quietly to herself as she crept out of the girls dormitories into the silent Gryffindor common room. “Lumos,” she whispered as she stepped into the darkness outside of the portrait hole, she had her robes on and her bag was in the common room in case she didn’t get back before dawn then at least she could say that she’d been working. It didn’t take her long to reach hallway outside the room of requirement. She knew that she was a little early, so she extinguished her wand and standing against the wall, cast a disillusionment charm.
Before long he appeared, his hair tousled and his shirt hanging open, he’d obviously been sleeping not long ago. He looked around, looking rather confused, she always beat him here. She nearly laughed; he’d make her jump before when she was wandering this corridor waiting for him so she’d learnt this spell for this purpose. “Hermione, are you here?” Draco whispered and she could hear that his voice still husky with sleep. Then he turned his back on her, taking advantage of his positioning she stepped softly forwards, placing her right hand on his right shoulder and saying, “Yes, Draco,” into his left ear. He flinched, shocked, when he’d not seen her, he’d thought that she’d decided this was a bad idea and not come. Draco began to stutter, “Bu…but, I didn’t…I didn’t see you. I thought… that you might…that you wouldn’t come.”
“I used a Disillusionment charm,” she said softly, “and I told you that I’d be here.” Both of them were in their fifth year now, and she couldn’t help but notice that they were both still scared of being found together, it would hurt both of them. Draco had to keep his pure blood family happy and she had to keep her Gryffindor friends by her side.
Their relationship had been non-existent for their first two years, but then she got her time-turner and though she didn’t tell Draco about it to start with, it gave her time to find quite places – library corners, the forest and the room of requirement. She wouldn’t tell Harry or Ron about the room unless it was necessary, if she could, she’d get someone else to tell them first. But when she in the room, sometimes other people could get in, not many people could, and she knew that there were ways of working the room to her wills so that others were unable to enter. She didn’t want to stop the visits from other people though, and there were only five other people who she ever knew to enter the room on their own, Draco Malfoy, Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall and Dobby the house elf. Sometimes they brought people with them, and sometimes the room changed for them. She watched it happen. They were never specific enough for her to have to leave the room or to stop her entering.
It was one of these time that she’d met Malfoy as more than a judicious, muggle and muggle-born hater. Mid-way through their third year, while Harry and Ron were still taking Division, she was only attending two classes and those two were in the Tower room, she was resting, having just done Muggle Studies and Arithmancy. It was easier to turn back the time to spend the while that would usually be used playing with tea-leaves and crystal balls resting and then to spend the evening working. Draco had come into the room, he looked pale, but he was alone. She had thought that it was unusual that he was not flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.
He’d sat down in a corner, where she could only see a side view of him, and with his head in his hands he had started to sob quietly. Hermione had thought he could never be sensitive, that he would never cry, or need someone to talk to. Instinctively, she’d stood up and walked the four long steps to reach his side, it had no longer mattered what he’d said to her, because he was in need of a friend. He hadn’t looked up as she’d approached, but was crying over a piece of paper in his hand. As she knelt down next to him she had seen that he was holding a letter from his family and a little sketch of someone.
“Are you okay, Malfoy?” she had said softly. He’d looked up in shock and dropped the papers that he’d been holding. When she’d picked them up, she had seen a delicate image of herself looking back at her; it wasn’t bewitched, just delicately drawn in fine ink lines. She had placed her left hand over her mouth as she picked up the paper with her right hand and given them back to him.
He’d taken the sketch and placed it in his breast pocket before placing the letter back in Hermione’s hand, in a hushed voice, had said, “Read it.” And looked up at her with sorrow filled eyes.
Draco,
Your father wishes for me to tell you that he is not amused by your grades. You are a pure blood wizard and the governors have noticed that your standards are falling below others in you year. He also says that if you cannot get your grades above those whose blood is tainted, he will get you a place in the Durmstrang Academy, no matter how high your friends’ parents are in the Ministry or the Dark Lord’s favour.
Please, for my sake, don’t give your father a reason to send you so far away from me, just get your grades above the Mud-blood Granger’s.
Love,
Mother
Once she’d finished reading it, she had placed her hand on his shoulder, “I can help you, Draco,” she had said.
He’d looked at her with watery, red-rimmed eyes, “Could you?”
“I can’t teach you any more than I know, but I will do what I can.” Draco had smiled his gratitude and held onto her hand.
“My parents, my friends want me to hate you. They want me to hate you and your friends, you are better than me at everything, and you don’t have any pressure on you to do as well as you do. I’m jealous of you, you are happy with what you have, you don’t hate me because I’m pure-blood or because I called you a Mud-blood. And I’m more than jealous, you are beautiful, and I think I love you… Hermione, I love you.” His voice had slowly changed from utter sorrow mixed with hatred to a soft, adoring murmur.
Before long he appeared, his hair tousled and his shirt hanging open, he’d obviously been sleeping not long ago. He looked around, looking rather confused, she always beat him here. She nearly laughed; he’d make her jump before when she was wandering this corridor waiting for him so she’d learnt this spell for this purpose. “Hermione, are you here?” Draco whispered and she could hear that his voice still husky with sleep. Then he turned his back on her, taking advantage of his positioning she stepped softly forwards, placing her right hand on his right shoulder and saying, “Yes, Draco,” into his left ear. He flinched, shocked, when he’d not seen her, he’d thought that she’d decided this was a bad idea and not come. Draco began to stutter, “Bu…but, I didn’t…I didn’t see you. I thought… that you might…that you wouldn’t come.”
“I used a Disillusionment charm,” she said softly, “and I told you that I’d be here.” Both of them were in their fifth year now, and she couldn’t help but notice that they were both still scared of being found together, it would hurt both of them. Draco had to keep his pure blood family happy and she had to keep her Gryffindor friends by her side.
Their relationship had been non-existent for their first two years, but then she got her time-turner and though she didn’t tell Draco about it to start with, it gave her time to find quite places – library corners, the forest and the room of requirement. She wouldn’t tell Harry or Ron about the room unless it was necessary, if she could, she’d get someone else to tell them first. But when she in the room, sometimes other people could get in, not many people could, and she knew that there were ways of working the room to her wills so that others were unable to enter. She didn’t want to stop the visits from other people though, and there were only five other people who she ever knew to enter the room on their own, Draco Malfoy, Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall and Dobby the house elf. Sometimes they brought people with them, and sometimes the room changed for them. She watched it happen. They were never specific enough for her to have to leave the room or to stop her entering.
It was one of these time that she’d met Malfoy as more than a judicious, muggle and muggle-born hater. Mid-way through their third year, while Harry and Ron were still taking Division, she was only attending two classes and those two were in the Tower room, she was resting, having just done Muggle Studies and Arithmancy. It was easier to turn back the time to spend the while that would usually be used playing with tea-leaves and crystal balls resting and then to spend the evening working. Draco had come into the room, he looked pale, but he was alone. She had thought that it was unusual that he was not flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.
He’d sat down in a corner, where she could only see a side view of him, and with his head in his hands he had started to sob quietly. Hermione had thought he could never be sensitive, that he would never cry, or need someone to talk to. Instinctively, she’d stood up and walked the four long steps to reach his side, it had no longer mattered what he’d said to her, because he was in need of a friend. He hadn’t looked up as she’d approached, but was crying over a piece of paper in his hand. As she knelt down next to him she had seen that he was holding a letter from his family and a little sketch of someone.
“Are you okay, Malfoy?” she had said softly. He’d looked up in shock and dropped the papers that he’d been holding. When she’d picked them up, she had seen a delicate image of herself looking back at her; it wasn’t bewitched, just delicately drawn in fine ink lines. She had placed her left hand over her mouth as she picked up the paper with her right hand and given them back to him.
He’d taken the sketch and placed it in his breast pocket before placing the letter back in Hermione’s hand, in a hushed voice, had said, “Read it.” And looked up at her with sorrow filled eyes.
Draco,
Your father wishes for me to tell you that he is not amused by your grades. You are a pure blood wizard and the governors have noticed that your standards are falling below others in you year. He also says that if you cannot get your grades above those whose blood is tainted, he will get you a place in the Durmstrang Academy, no matter how high your friends’ parents are in the Ministry or the Dark Lord’s favour.
Please, for my sake, don’t give your father a reason to send you so far away from me, just get your grades above the Mud-blood Granger’s.
Love,
Mother
Once she’d finished reading it, she had placed her hand on his shoulder, “I can help you, Draco,” she had said.
He’d looked at her with watery, red-rimmed eyes, “Could you?”
“I can’t teach you any more than I know, but I will do what I can.” Draco had smiled his gratitude and held onto her hand.
“My parents, my friends want me to hate you. They want me to hate you and your friends, you are better than me at everything, and you don’t have any pressure on you to do as well as you do. I’m jealous of you, you are happy with what you have, you don’t hate me because I’m pure-blood or because I called you a Mud-blood. And I’m more than jealous, you are beautiful, and I think I love you… Hermione, I love you.” His voice had slowly changed from utter sorrow mixed with hatred to a soft, adoring murmur.