The Lost Timeline | Dramione | ✔

#4 Blooming Battles

"Let me see if I've got it right – muggles strap themselves into train-like contraptions... a carriage, with no roof... And they go hurtling down tracks that, if aren't built properly, would result in their death?" Draco clarified for the umpteenth time.

"Yes, that's right. And those tracks go in loops and steep dives." Hermione explained patiently.

"Muggles are duller than I thought!" Draco declared gleefully. Hermione still hasn't gotten over how beautiful it was, his smile. But she has learnt to appreciate it quietly, rather than gawking like a teenager because every time he catches sight of her marvelling, his scowl makes a grand return.

"Must be a pity not to have magic. Or Quidditch." He tacked on thoughtfully. The short time they've spent together felt like months, their understanding of each other deepening past what a few short weeks should have been able to achieve. But it did.

To their knowledge, they haven't been caught nor caused any suspicion towards their behaviour in the least.

For Hermione, the thrill of sneaking off to talk with Draco foreshadowed the friendship which has blossomed, but Draco's favourite part was the companionship. He enjoyed her more than he expected to.

"And it's called a boiler roster?" He asked thoughtfully, contemplating the meaning of the words.

"Roller coaster," Hermione corrected, "It must be a pity to be so dense."

Draco narrowed his bright eyes at her and said, "I don't make it a practice to remember uninteresting and unintelligent things."

"Which explains why Harry and Ron tops your list but your little entourage is not on it." It was a little mean for Hermione, perhaps... But Draco has sharpened her tongue, his devil-may-care attitude seeping into her already quick mind, giving her an edge she didn't naturally possess and she loved it. It made her feel fearless.

"You should have been in Slytherin," He lamented. Not for the first time, but Hermione always pointed out one flaw or another.

Today, it was: "I think green's just not my colour."

"It could be." He said, inching towards her and raising a hand to her face. His palm outstretched in front of her, not close enough to touch. He glanced back and forth from the fabrics of his robe to her face before dropping it.

"You're right, it makes you look dull. I suppose one has to have a certain quality to carry it off."

This resulted in a snort, "Like bigotry and a supreme lack of modesty?"

Recognising his defeat, Draco lowered his eyes to his homework. It was their unspoken agreement. A white flag of sorts, whereby the other will let the topic drop and not kick the other when they are down. He welcomed it immensely as he got to keep his pride intact and there was a degree of chivalry and honour which made him feel good about himself. Hermione just took it as a show of good grace and liked him the more for it.

They settled into a comfortable silence, each working on their individual papers and that was how it was, their blooming friendship. A certain understanding between two bright minds, without status or expectations. Muggle-born or pureblood, Slytherin or not. It was a delicate, beautiful sort of thing and in that bubble, it didn't matter who they were outside of it and who their friends or family were.

Hermione stood up and stretched as she completed her homework and left, neither bothered saying goodbye, almost as though goodbye meant the end. They simply got a move on without acknowledgement or pause, knowing that they would see each other the next time, or the one after that.

Draco watched as she left, filled with contentment. Feelings of loneliness seemed to have dissipated as his friendship with the Gryffindor grew. Where he would often feel oddly empty in the company of his fellow house-mates, he had never felt that way with her... And the quiet pang of isolation which hounded him when he was alone no longer bothered him – it had become something of an echo, a shadow of a long-forgotten memory.