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Assistant: Title: In Between
        Author: aerynwrites aerynwrites 
        Chapter: 2/68 
        Summary: In which Draco has a rip roaring crush on Hermione for the first four years of school. Then Fifth year arrives and it seems she might return his affections.So what does he do? Naturally, he lures her (in a romantic way of course) into an alcove, magically glues her in place and kisses her until she's dizzy.This is their love story. It's full of magic, humour and growing together. Of adventures, mischief and silliness around Hogwarts, cosy and tucked away from the rest of the world. This story is all their little moments; falling in love, falling apart, broken through the war and back again for Eighth year, and everything else In Between.Featuring: a smart, ultra competent Hermione Granger who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to go after it,Soft, cinnamon roll Draco Malfoy who's completely head over heels for Hermione and is prepared to break all sorts of rules to spend time with his witchUltimate wingman Blaise Zabini. He's also a mother henTheo Nott making bets and badges. He's here for the chaosOblivious Potter (but he has suspicions)Tiny bit of Ron Weasley bashing but also Ron Weasley redemption (and I redeem him so good!)
        Contents: Chapter 2: First Year
    

    

        
          
          
            Song Rec: Prologue by John Williams
          
        

  

  
  
    
     “Has anyone seen a toad?”  It was September the first and Draco was finally on his way to Hogwarts after an entire summer of great anticipation and a lifetimes worth of excitement and dreaming about what it would be like. He was tucked in a carriage compartment with Blaise and Theo, who were occupied playing exploding snap and Greg and Vincent, who were already tucking into their packed lunches well before noon. Draco had been enjoying the train ride thus far by watching as the London city buildings slowly gave way to rolling, lush countryside.  He was particularly intrigued by the sheer amount of buildings and how tall some of them were. His father had never mentioned that one could see Muggle buildings whilst on the train and Draco was both shocked and, begrudgingly, a little impressed that they could create these things with no magic.  How was it possible that the buildings stayed upright with no Stabilisation Charms? He would need to find a way to ask his father about it. Perhaps Muggle buildings fell down a lot?  His attention was snagged when their compartment door slid open, revealing a girl that must have been a First Year too, judging by her lack of school tie. She was small and slight, with dark golden skin that showed a smattering of freckles painted across her cheekbones and with huge, chocolate brown eyes.  Her hair, well it was one of the strangest and most interesting thing he had ever seen. It was a wild tangle of curls in many different shades of browns and golds that swirled around her face and hung down her back. Had she never heard of a Smoothing Potion? He himself prided looking after his crowning glory and thought a witch with hair that untamed, and with no Potions in it whatsoever, to be deplorable. One ringlet bounced close to her jawline and he watched with a strange but keen interest as she tucked it nervously behind her ear.  Draco swallowed hard, not fully understanding the reason why he was reacting to such a thing.  “Have any of you seen a toad?” the girl repeated, crossing her arms and looking a little impatient. Her eyes swept over the five of them and Draco felt a small and curious shiver when her gaze landed on him.  This was strange. Why was he shivering? He decided to put it down to first day nerves. “A toad?” he laughed. “Who would bring a toad with them as their familiar? Why not just announce that you’re a loser?”  Blaise and Theo snickered as they looked up from their game. Vincent and Greg were too preoccupied with their sandwiches to pay the conversation much attention.  “A boy named Neville has lost one and I thought I might help him look,” she continued, paying no attention to his snarky remarks.   “Probably a good thing if it’s lost. A toad as a familiar is terribly out of fashion, you know?” Blaise said.  “Oh, who cares if something is cool or not?” she exclaimed with an exasperated roll of her eyes.   Cool? What did that have to do with anything? Draco exchanged glances with Theo and Blaise, who looked just as bewildered as he felt. Was she talking about the temperature? Why would a toad be cold?  “Well, if you see a toad, come and find Neville or myself and we will come and collect it.”  “I assure you if we find any frozen or chilly toads we will let you know.” Theo nodded seriously and turned his attention back to his cards.  Draco watched with interest as the girl looked completely confused and repeated the words ‘frozen toad’ under her breath before she shook her head and made to step towards the carriage door. Her wild hair swung in a thick curtain down her back and something in his fingers itched to touch it.  He didn’t want her to go yet. He wanted to know more about why she was concerned with cold amphibians and where he could find her if he did just so happen upon a lost toad.   “Are you a First Year?” he asked before he could stop himself. Blaise raised an eyebrow at him which Draco studiously ignored in favour of watching the girl instead.  She turned back towards him and nodded shyly before stepping forward and holding out her hand. “I’m Hermione Granger.”   He took her hand in his and felt a small, warm spark deep within his belly. It was sudden, a quick flicker and flash of feeling and then gone again, but the warmth remained and burrowed deep into his gut. He heard her small gasp and wondered if she had felt it too. Her hand closed around his as they shook hands in greeting and he felt her fingers warm against his cool skin. For a moment he admired how her dark gold skin looked against his pale complexion. Blaise cleared his throat and Draco realised with a start that he was holding her hand and staring at it whilst saying nothing.  “M-Malfoy. Draco Malfoy,” he offered and she gave him a polite smile as she took her hand back. Draco felt the loss of the warmth and he clenched his hands into fists to try to shake the feeling out.  “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve only met a couple of First Years so far. I’m a little nervous, and I don’t know anyone so I wasn’t sure if I should introduce myself or just stay in my carriage and then I met Neville and now here I am looking for a toad…” she babbled, her hands tucking more loose curls behind her ears as a small blush stole across her cheeks.  Draco, who usually couldn’t be bothered conversing with blethering idiots that were incapable of articulating themselves properly, thought it was nice that she was blushing.  How odd and unusual for him to think that way. He decided to chalk this particular weird feeling up to a lack of luncheon and resolved to eat something soon.   “Granger? I’ve not heard that name before. Are you related to the Dagworth-Grangers? The Potions Master?”  Hermione Granger shook her head. “I don’t think so. My parents are non-magical, so I doubt that I am related to anyone in the magical world.”   Sometime later that day, after their lunch of sandwiches, fresh fruit and cakes sent by the Manor elves, Draco sat looking out the window as the rolling dales of the Yorkshire moors slowly gave way to the mountains and lochs of the Scottish Lowlands and Highlands.  He felt confused and a little lost. He had never interacted with a Muggle before, and this one had been very different than his father had told him. She was polite, well spoken, had manners and was being helpful to another student that she had only just met.  Draco had long been told that he would know anyone of Muggle descent immediately. They would be dirty, unclean, smelly. Uneducated and impolite, but that was not his lasting impression of Hermione Granger. His mind turned it over and over as they journeyed further North and as the train began to slow down as they pulled in towards Hogsmeade station.  Perhaps she was in fact related to the Dagworth-Granger’s and she simply hadn’t realised? That must be the answer. There was no way anyone who had Muggle parents was going to be as well turned out as she had been. There must be some mistake.  He put it out of his mind as he and his friends stepped into the boats that drifted slowly towards the castle with it’s every window lit up and shimmering in reflection on the Black Lake. 
   
 Draco watched as the Sorting Hat was placed on Hermione’s head. All heads in the Great Hall were turned expectantly towards the First years gathered at the front of the hall but the longer the Sorting Hat took to decide on a school house for her, the more whispering broke out amongst the tables.  She was a hat stall. Draco, who knew in his bones that he would be in Slytherin, felt a curious moment of something that felt almost wildly hopeful in his chest. What if they were sorted into the same house? He had wanted to talk to her more on the train and if they were in the same shared space then that would happen more, surely?  The teachers were watching her with tilted heads and furrowed brows and inquisitive eyes. The hat had been silent for almost five minutes at this point.  The brim opened wide and shouted “GRYFFINDOR!” and the table with gold and red stripes cheered the loudest. Hermione jumped down, her face pink with embarrassment as her school tie materialised around the collar of her school shirt and moved towards her school house table. She offered a small smile to him as she passed by.  Draco felt a strange wash of disappointment lick over him as he watched her go.   Settling into Hogwarts was something Draco adapted to rather easily. He wasn’t intimidated by how vast and sprawling the castle was and found it rather easy to find his way around. Perhaps he had a natural sense of direction or perhaps it was because he had been brought up in a large Manor and therefore had the capability to navigate large, centuries old buildings. Blaise said it was because they were living in the dungeons and therefore the only way towards any part of the castle, be it the Great Hall for breakfast or to classes, was to go upwards.  Draco ignored this and secretly still believed that as a Malfoy he must have a better sense of direction than most.  Obviously.  He strode towards his afternoon Charms class, after a hearty lunch of Cottage pie, laughing with Blaise and Theo as Greg and Vincent described locking Filch in his office the previous evening so they wouldn’t get detention for sneaking down to the kitchens for extra pudding.  They noisily settled into Charms class as Professor Flitwick squeakily gave their instructions on how to levitate their feathers.  As much as magic came to him naturally, there was a disconnect from feeling it buzzing in his magical core, and having the capability to utilise a wand as a conduit and to channel it accordingly. He tentatively tried a few practice movements with his wand, slowly saying the syllables and trying to master the timing of the incantation along with the swish-and-flick gesture that was required.  Theo looked up from where he was twirling his wand around his fingers as a baton and nudged Draco to get his attention. Draco looked up and his sharp, grey eyes followed to where Theo had gestured. Weasley was brandishing his wand like a weapon and waving it frantically up and down as if he wished to beat his feather to death with it. Draco gave Theo a small, sharp grin as they watched. How did Weasley even function as a person? Was he so thick that the simple instructions had gone in one ear and out the other, without meeting anything in the middle that would make them stick?  The person next to Weasley flinched and inched away from his mad gesticulating before putting their hand over his flailing arm and announcing that he needed to stop.  Granger. She was looking at Weasley in obvious concern, clearly trying to work out why he was brandishing his wand like it was a common stick for a dog to chase.  “You’re going to take someone’s eye out if you keep waving your wand like that!” And she mimed the gesture with both hands. Weasley scowled and rolled his eyes.  “Besides,” she continued in a lofty tone, “you’re saying it wrong! Its Leh-Vee-OH-Sah not Lehveeoh-SAH,” and she accompanied it by waving her wand in the correct formation to really drive home her point.  Draco watched in consideration at the small girl with the wild hair. She had understood not just the wand movements, but the importance of cadence when speaking the incantations. He hadn’t anticipated that she would be smart. And she was clearly far more intelligent than the Pureblood but overgrown ginger weasel she was sat next to. But she came from Muggles. How was that possible?  Maybe it was because Weasley was not the sharpest Potions knife in the drawer? “You do it then if you’re so clever!” snapped Weasley in reply, his skin taking on a mottled look in his obvious anger. “Go on!” Granger blinked at him but looked down at her feather, her face set with determination and her large eyes focussed on her task. Draco watched as she took in a deep breath and spoke the incantation clearly, waved her wand and the feather started to steadily rise.  She gave the weasel a small smirk of satisfied triumph at proving herself before her gaze returned to her feather.  Had she just performed a charm on the first go, without even practising? Draco felt a moment of reluctantly being impressed before frustratedly shrugging it off.  He lifted his wand, and determined not to be outdone by a spoff of a girl, levitated his feather mere moments after she had. 
   
  First year went by quickly. He spent his days pestering Potter, hanging out with his friends and flying. He explored the library and thoroughly enjoyed all the new books he had access to.He wrote to his mother and complained that he was being outdone by a mere slip of a girl, ousting him from first place in all their classes. She was quick to reassure him and sent him lovely packages of sweets from home to try and make him feel better. And it worked for a while but Draco still felt a strange curiosity (along with fury) at being bested by her in every single class. Well, except for flying. He snickered to himself because she had truly been terrible, and he felt a small zing of joy zip through him at that.  He returned to the castle following the Yule holidays with a spring in his step, determined to be top of the class.   This was turning into the worst night of Draco’s young life. Not only had he received detention for alerting the Professor’s to Perfect Potter being a delinquent law breaker, but now he was being forced to leave the castle in the middle of the night. A lack of sleep had been foremost at the front of his mind, because he needed a solid eight hours to ensure he didn’t have dark circles under his eyes. Or it was until they had left the warmth and safety of the stone building and Filch had wheezed them down towards the pathway that led to the Forbidden Forest.  Through the pitch darkness they crossed through the well trodden path, past the Greenhouses and down through the thickets of heather, until they reached Hagrid’s hut by the tree line. The trees stood clumped together ominously, the light impenetrable after the first few metres and the darkness menacing. Draco swallowed hard, feeling hundreds of unseen eyes on him from the woods.    “The F-forbidden Forest? Students aren’t a-allowed!” Fear made his voice shake and he stammered and hated that he was doing so in front of sodding Potter of all people. “And there are—“ his voice cut off as a low howl sounded from deep within the dark of the trees.  “Werewolves!" whispered Granger looking horrified.  Filch gave a dark chuckle and lifted his lantern, his eyes glittering maliciously in the lamplight. “Oh, there is far more than just werewolves hidden in them trees lad, you can be sure of that,” He bit the end of his sentence off with a distinct click of his teeth, enunciating the sharp snap of the ’t’.  He turned and started staggering back up towards the castle. “Nighty night,” he called in a goading manner over his shoulder.  Draco shivered in the frigid night air, and watched the thick mist winding long, creeping fingers around the gnarled roots of the trees, snaking over the damp ground and around his ankles. The four children stood and glanced at each other nervously, casting darting looks into the trees in their peripheral vision, scouting for shapes in the mist and the dark.  “This is absolutely ridiculous,” Draco muttered to himself, stuffing his hands into his Norwegian lined cloak.  “Will you father hear about this?” sneered Weasel.  Draco opened his mouth furiously to retort but was beaten to the punch by Granger who whirled around in front of Weasley and scowled at him.  “Honestly, he should say something to his father! And you should consider writing to your parents too! This is ridiculous! Imagine spending all year telling students not to go anywhere near the Forbidden Forest only to shove them into it as a punishment in detention! You heard Filch; there are werewolves out there! Not to mention all sorts of other unsavoury creatures that I’ve read about in Hogwarts; A History. And we don’t know nearly enough spells to be considered safe as soon as we go into those trees. Think, Ronald!”  Draco blinked in shock, watching as the furious little Gryffindor pointed her finger at the ginger Weasel and told him off.  “Hermione…” started Potter.  “No, Harry! I agree with Malfoy. This is not only ridiculous, but outrageously dangerous. I can accept a punishment is necessary for breaking the rules but I’m not convinced that marching into the Forbidden Forest is the way to do things. I plan on asking my Dad for his thoughts on this as soon as I’m back in the common room and can locate a quill and parchment. This is not safe!”
   
Potter, the idiot, didn’t look convinced that Granger had said anything that resembled common sense. Draco supposed that Potter most likely thought gallivanting around some woods with numerous and untold deadly creatures was a wonderful lark. It was exactly that sort of behaviour that had placed the prat in Gryffindor.  He looked curiously at Granger though. She seemed to have her self preservation in the right place, which was very uncommon for a Gryffindor.  A moment later and any hopes Draco had of a teacher looking out for them on this disaster of a detention were dashed as the hulking, hairy figure of Hagrid lumbered towards them from the tree line, a large and slobbering dog at his side. Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste at the drooling mutt. It bounded over to Potter who immediately started patting it.  Granger scooted away from it slightly as its tail thumped against her leg, her lips twisted into a small grimace.  Hagrid divided them into pairs (Draco was immensely glad he was paired with sensible Granger and not Harry Death-Wish Potter or Incompetent Weasley) and then gave them their instructions for the evening. If Draco had hoped that the situation was going to get better, within minutes he was proven wrong. Not only were they to march into the forest unaccompanied by a wand-holding teacher, they were to actively seek out a dying unicorn and try to help figure out what was eating and killing them. Whilst whatever was killing them off might be stalking them as they did do.  This was, clearly, a suicide mission.  There would be no informing his father come the morning if Draco were mauled and eaten within the forest. He gripped his wand tightly in his pocket and resolved not to show any sign of weakness but he couldn’t help the trembling in his legs.  Hagrid, in a show of favouritism that staggered Draco, took Potter and his pet weasel with him. Potter muttered what sounded like an apology towards Granger, who looked pale and tense as she watched them get ready to leave.  Draco eyed the massive crossbow Hagrid had with him. “And are we to be given a weapon to keep us safe in the forest, or shall we just lie down and allow whatever is in there to eat us without a fight?” he bit out.  Hagrid eyed them both and Draco scoffed as he realised that it hadn’t occurred to Hagrid to give them something to keep them safe. This detention was looking more and more like an excursion into the awaiting arms of Certain Death.  “Hagrid, it would be extremely unsafe to allow two students to go into the forest without—“ began Hermione.  “You can have Fang.” Hagrid said and gestured with one massive hand at the slobbering dog. “Nothing should come near you if he’s with you although, having said that, he’s a bl@@dy coward…”  Draco gulped at this failed attempt at making them both feel safer and he felt Granger shift slightly closer to him in the dark. He didn’t move away, something in his magic seeking reassurance and solace in another person.    The mutt whimpered and Draco privately agreed with him at this sentiment as they set off into the thick tree line and then took different routes when the path divided.  Granger clutched her wand tightly in her hand and cast a Lumos with a shaky voice. Relieved that she was the first to light a spell he quickly followed suit. Her eyes were wide with fear in his wand light and she trembled a little on the path next to him.  He felt a bolt of relief that he didn’t have to put up a big front with her in being brave because frankly, f@ck that nonsense. His mother and father would be absolutely horrified when he told him what had transpired this evening.  He said as much as they walked cautiously along the pathway, wands aloft and lighting the way, casting gold light that barely penetrated the cloying darkness.  “This is absolutely ridiculous,” he said with as much venom as he could muster.   “I agree.” Granger said quietly and decisively, her eyes trained on a rustling from a snarled thicket up ahead.  They paused their steps as the wind whispered through the leaves in the trees and only continued when the noise had died down again. They stepped closer together, arms almost brushing as they walked and continued on along the forest pathway.  “This is servant stuff! Not something four First years should be anywhere near!”   Granger nodded, and her curls bounced around her face from where they had escaped their ponytail. “I can’t believe that they think this is remotely safe. Hagrid doesn’t even have a wand! The Forbidden Forest is supposed to be home to many creatures and how are we to defend ourselves against them?” Her voice was shaky but steadied out as she gathered steam in her rant.  “And whoever it is that is catching the unicorns must be incredibly fast, not to mention full of dark magic. How are we to cope if we come across them?” She nibbled on her bottom lip and Draco watched this action with a strange intensity he couldn’t understand just now.  Granger looked at him pensively. “Who could kill a unicorn?” she whispered. “Or what,” Draco muttered darkly.  Granger looked up at him with huge fearful eyes and so Draco continued on at her unspoken question. It helped steady himself as he spoke, distracting him from the wave of fear that threatened to take over his body at any given moment.  “Wizards are strong, magically speaking you understand, but unicorns are pure. Their magic is completely pure. Utterly perfect, untouched and immaculate in it’s potency and origin. There is nothing like it. Wizarding kind has long been aware of how powerful unicorn magic is but it is to be revered. Respected. They’re not hunted and they never have been. Their hairs are only ever collected if they have been caught on branches or in bushes. They are never taken from them. To pluck from a unicorn would be the ultimate disrespect, not just to the Unicorn, but to the core foundation of magic itself.”  They walked deeper into the Forest as Draco spoke, and the splatters of silvery blood on the ground grew thicker and closer together as did the trees and the shadows around them.  “What else?” asked Granger, her hand and voice shaking as they followed the path around a sharp corner that was flanked on both sides by looming and massive bushes that were twice the height of the average wizard. Fang whined again and loped along uselessly behind them.  Sodding pointless guard dog.  Draco swallowed hard but continued on. "Unicorns are seen to be a magical gift in every way possible. Finding their hairs from their mane or tail is a rare gift. If a Unicorn were to approach a wizard, then that wizard would count themselves utterly blessed. It’s such a rare phenomenon that only a handful of instances have ever been recorded.”  Granger blinked at him in interest as she absorbed his words. “You know a lot about Unicorns,”   “I like to read,” Draco murmured in embarrassment, his cheeks flushing hot. “And I like learning about magic.”  He stopped where he was on the path and tugged at Granger’s sleeve so she would stop too. A spark of warmth flickered through his gut again as he touched her, gone the instant he removed his hand.  He licked his lips and looked at her seriously. “Whatever is killing the Unicorns couldn’t be considered a wizard, if it’s even human at all. And I don’t know of any animal that would or could attack one either.” “A werewolf?” Granger whispered fearfully, glancing over her shoulder into the dark as the trees whispered to each other.  “Maybe, but I doubt they would be fast enough. But to kill and then drain the blood…it must be something so evil—“ He broke off as up ahead they heard something moving. Something softly slithering. A whisper of a cloak upon damp earth and dried leaves. Draco felt a bolt of fear spike in his stomach and his blood ran cold. Granger pressed in closer to him, shaking where she stood. “D-did you…?”  “Yeah,” he whispered in reply.  “Should we call the others? Send up sparks for help?”  Draco glanced at the droplets of blood on the ground that were headed in the same direction as the whispering noise of the cloak had come from.  “I don’t think we should draw attention to ourselves and I’m not hanging about to be the next dinner for whatever that thing is. We should turn back—“  A scream, a very human scream, erupted from deeper in the forest. Draco and Granger gasped in fright, each grabbing hold of the other where they stood. Fang howled and bounded off the path into the bushes and trees, the darkness swallowing him so they couldn’t see where he had gone, utterly abandoning them. They looked at each other and started to run full pelt back the way they had come. Adrenaline pumped through his body and his breaths came fast and furious as they chased the moonlight that was brighter at the tree line. At some point Granger had grabbed Draco’s hand in hers and he didn’t pull away, too consumed with fear to be concerned with anything else.  They arrived back at Hagrid’s hut and for a long moment stood panting, trying to catch their breath. A few minutes passed and then the mist swirled and dissipated as Draco watched Hagrid, Potter, Weasel and the f@ck@ng useless mutt walk out of the forest.  “Harry!” said Granger, the relief in her voice all too evident. "What happened? We heard a scream! Was it you? What—“ “Detention dismissed,” muttered Hagrid gruffly as he stomped past them into his hut. He emerged a moment later with a larger weapon and, strangely, an umbrella. “You get yerselves back up to the castle. No dawdling, mind!”  Wasting absolutely no time, and in no mood to stand about any longer than he had at death’s door, Draco whirled around to head back to the warmth and safety of the castle only to become aware that he was standing still clutching Granger’s hand tightly in his own. He looked down at where they were linked, and heard a small gasp from Granger as she realised she was still holding his hand. He slowly pulled his hand free and felt the warmth seep from his palm and fingers into the cold night air. “This never happened, Granger,” he muttered quietly so that only she could hear and he moved smartly back towards the castle, blinking back tears of fear as he did. He heard Granger and her friends talking quietly behind him, discussing what had happened, as they went back up to the castle. When he reached the entrance hall, he quickly turned and scuttled down towards the dungeons and the safety of his common room.   He had never been so grateful as he was in that moment to get to the warmth of his bedchamber and he resolved that he would write to his father first thing in the morning abut the nights events. He quickly shucked his clothes and dove under his duvets and blankets, shivering as the shock and fear caught up with him. He curled himself into a warm ball and squeezed the hand that had held Grangers into a fist.  Of all the things his father said he should feel towards muggles and… and  M-Mudbloods, Draco couldn’t match up this emotion to what he had been told. He had been grateful she had been there with him and glad that she hadn’t mocked him for being as scared as he was. She had held his hand and it had made him feel safer.  He was glad she had been there with him and the truth of the matter was that he felt better with her next to him.'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
Assistant: