Graphic Credits: oh_nakhrewaali
This is one of my entries for the Love-O-Rama #1: Pyar ka Trope-fest
Trope:
Set A: Enemies-to-Lovers
Set B: High School/College (Hogwarts 8th Year AU)
Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy from Harry Potter
Hermione Granger had never imagined returning to Hogwarts would feel this strange. The war had left scars—some visible, others buried deep—but she was determined to complete her education. With Harry and Ron joining the Auror program, she was alone in her journey back. And so was Draco Malfoy.
They were among the handful of students who had returned for their N.E.W.T.s. An unspoken agreement lingered: keep your distance from those who had fought on opposing sides. Yet, Hogwarts had a way of forcing people together.
Hermione had been assigned to the same dormitory as Draco Malfoy. The arrangement was meant to promote unity, but it felt like a cruel joke. Their first encounter was icy.
"Well, if it isn’t Granger, back to grace Hogwarts with her brilliance," Draco drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe.
Hermione rolled her eyes, unfazed. "And if it isn’t Malfoy, still as insufferable as ever. Some things never change."
He smirked. "Oh, I’ve changed, Granger. But you? Still as quick to judge as ever."
She crossed her arms. "Forgive me if years of being called a ‘Mudblood’ don’t make me eager to believe in your grand transformation."
For a split second, something unreadable flickered across his face. Then the smirk returned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Fair enough."
For weeks, they only spoke when necessary. But tensions were bound to rise. It happened during a Potions assignment. Paired together by Professor Slughorn, their brewing quickly turned into a battle of wills.
"You're stirring it wrong," Draco muttered.
"Oh, I didn’t realize you were the expert here," she shot back.
Draco scoffed. "You might have the best grades, but I actually understand the artistry of this subject."
"And yet, who needed my help to pass sixth-year Potions?" she countered.
A muscle in his jaw twitched, but instead of snapping back, he exhaled. "Fine. Let’s do it your way."
Hermione blinked. That was… unexpected.
When the lesson ended, she packed up and stepped into the corridor, still mulling over his unusual restraint.
"Granger, wait."
She turned, wary. "What, Malfoy?"
He exhaled. "Look, I… I owe you an apology."
She blinked. "For what, exactly?"
Draco hesitated, then met her gaze. "For everything. The insults. The way I treated you in school. I was raised to believe things that—" He shook his head. "—that I see now were wrong. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know that I was a coward. I was wrong."
Hermione studied him, fingers tightening around her book. It wasn’t instant forgiveness, but for the first time, she saw something real in his expression. Regret.
As the weeks passed, their interactions changed. The barbed insults softened, replaced by reluctant camaraderie and banter. Then, something shifted completely on a cold December evening.
Hermione had been in the library, working late, when she found herself alone on her walk back to the dorms. The corridors were eerily silent. She quickened her pace—only to hear footsteps behind her.
Her heart pounded until she turned a corner and found herself face to face with Draco Malfoy.
"Relax, Granger. I’m not about to hex you," he said, rolling his eyes.
She let out a breath. "What are you doing out this late?"
"Could ask you the same thing," he replied. "Though I suppose it’s no surprise seeing you in the library until ungodly hours. You probably rearrange the shelves in your spare time."
She crossed her arms. "And you? Lurking in dark corridors like some brooding anti-hero?"
A smirk tugged at his lips. "You think I’m brooding?"
"I think you’re avoiding my question."
Draco sighed, glancing down the corridor before stepping closer. "Sometimes I just need space."
Hermione studied him in the dim torchlight. There was something different about him now—less sharp edges, more quiet contemplation.
"Walk with me?" she asked.
Draco hesitated, then nodded. They fell into step, their footsteps echoing softly.
As they walked, they talked—about school, about life after the war, about things neither had expected to share. And then, as if drawn by an unseen force, they stopped at the Astronomy Tower, the cold December wind whipping around them.
"Do you regret coming back?" Hermione asked softly.
Draco was quiet for a long moment. "I used to. But not anymore."
She turned to look at him, surprised. "Why?"
He smirked, but it lacked his usual arrogance. "I guess… some things make it worthwhile."
Hermione's breath caught. There was something in the way he looked at her—unspoken but undeniable.
And then, as if drawn by an unseen force, they moved closer.
"Malfoy—"
"Draco," he corrected, his voice barely above a whisper.
Her pulse quickened. He was close, too close. But she didn’t move away.
And when his lips finally met hers, it felt like the beginning of something neither of them had ever expected.
For a moment, the world around them disappeared. The cold December air was sharp against Hermione’s skin, but all she felt was the warmth of Draco’s lips against hers—tentative, testing, as though he was giving her the chance to pull away.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she melted into the kiss, her fingers clutching the front of his sweater as if anchoring herself to the moment. Draco let out a quiet sigh against her lips, his hands moving to her waist, hesitant yet firm, as though he couldn't quite believe this was happening.
When they finally pulled apart, Hermione’s heart was racing, her breath uneven. She looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of regret, but all she found was the same unspoken emotion she had seen growing in his eyes for weeks.
"That… that was unexpected," she murmured, pressing her fingers to her lips as if trying to hold onto the feeling.
Draco let out a short, breathy chuckle. "Yeah. Didn’t exactly plan on kissing you tonight, Granger."
She rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "You should probably stop calling me Granger if you're going to—" She hesitated, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.
"Kiss you?" he finished, his voice lower now, almost teasing.
Hermione exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "Yes. That."
Draco smirked, but it wasn’t the usual arrogant expression—it was softer, almost nervous. "Alright, Hermione."
Her stomach flipped at the way he said her name. She glanced at where his hands still rested on her waist before looking back up at him. "So… what now?"
Draco ran a hand through his hair. "That depends. Are you going to pretend this never happened?"
Hermione bit her lip, then shook her head, "No," she admitted softly. "I don’t want to pretend."
Draco’s shoulders relaxed slightly, relief flashing across his face. "Good. Because I couldn't, even if I tried."
She shook her head in amused disbelief. "You’re impossible."
"And yet, you kissed me back," he said smugly.
Hermione sighed. "Maybe I should rethink my choices."
Draco leaned in just a fraction. "Too late for that, Hermione," he teased.
She shoved his chest playfully, but he caught her wrist, his thumb brushing her knuckles.
"Come on," he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Let’s go before someone finds us and assumes we’re out here plotting something scandalous."
Hermione laughed, entwining her fingers with his before they quietly made their way back inside the castle—together.
Cricket
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