The second bite of the apple | Dramoine

I don't even know why I did it

When Draco entered the meeting room the next day, Hermione barely glanced up from her papers, but she immediately began talking a mile a minute.

"Harry's agreed to testify, which is very good news." Her quill scratched furiously on parchment. "He'll be sharing his memories and giving a statement. Besides him and Luna, I'll also be putting your mother on the stand to talk about your childhood. Also, I think it will help everyone remember what she did for Harry. The Prosecution has Katie Bell testifying against you. Ron, however, is not and—"

"Do you always talk this much when you're nervous?" Draco couldn't help but smirk as he sat down.

"I'm not nervous," she hissed, then swore as the quill she had been writing with snapped in her grip.

"Could've fooled me." He laughed. All morning, he had been anxiously wondering if Hermione was going to show up and what he would say to her if she did. Clearly, he needn't have worried so much. She was going to be awkward enough for both of them.

Draco cleared his throat. "I do want to apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was way out of line. Honestly, I'm surprised to see you today—I thought you'd have washed your hands of me. But if you're still willing to represent me, I promise nothing like that will happen again."

"It's fine." Hermione sighed, procuring a new quill from her bag. "We were both emotional and confused. I'm not angry, it was just . . . a mistake."

"Right." He nodded. A mistake. He was sure it had been that way for her. Probably the first one she's made in her life.

But for him? He'd made more than his fair share of mistakes. Enough to know that, whatever it was, kissing Hermione Granger had certainly not felt like a mistake.

Hermione was genuinely surprised at Draco's sincere apology. She'd expected him to ignore the incident. Or if he were being like the old Draco, maybe taunt her about it. Instead, he seemed genuinely concerned that she was upset. And to her relief, he seemed as determined to move past it as she was.

Before Hermione could stop herself, more words flowed from her mouth. "I, uh, want to thank you for what you did for me at the Manor . . . I had no idea—"

"Don't," Draco said.

"Don't what?" She was confused by the anger in his tone.

"Don't act like I'm some sort of hero. Because I'm not. And you shouldn't have even seen that."

"Why not? Because you don't want me knowing you're a decent person?" Hermione felt her frustration rising. "Because it's a break in the selfish façade you portray to the world? You did a good thing—why can't I acknowledge it?"

"Please," he scoffed, "you think Potter would have let Bellatrix lay a finger on you if he'd been standing where I was? Or even Weasley, for that matter? No, they would have happily gotten killed trying to protect you. I barely did anything . . . and not nearly soon enough." He pointed a finger in her face. "So don't you dare act like you should be grateful to me! That's the last thing you should feel toward me. I don't even know why I did it."

"It's natural to want to help someone who's being hurt," Hermione said, still perplexed by his reaction. "And you're right, Harry and Ron would have done something rash to try to save me and probably gotten us all killed in the process. You were smart—you helped me without escalating the situation."

She reached across the table to place her hand over his. "You are a good person, Draco . . . whether you want to admit it or not. You were just never given the opportunity to explore that goodness."

He pulled his hand away, not meeting her gaze, instead looking off to the side.

"Can we talk about something else?" His voice sounded strained.