Dramione: The Requirement
written by PurpleMist
Hermione and Draco both notice the silence. Where Hogwarts was bustling with merry conversations before, a gloomy quiet takes its place. No one else is in the castle. It turns out that the entire illusion was conjured by the Death Eaters in their elaborate plot to take Harry and Ron and make them part of the Dark Side. Hermione immediately goes to the Room of Requirement for help, but the door doesn’t let her in. Instead, it gives missions that are easier said than done. The door also threatens Draco with “grim happenings” if he doesn’t help. Join a journey where Draco and Hermione have to conquer their worst fears to get past the door and save their friends - but will they be willing to overcome their past beliefs and work together to do so?
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
4
Reads
4,311
Quidditch
Chapter 1
~ Hermione ~
The silence in the stadium is deafening.
Everyone sits on the edge of their seats. Malfoy on the Nimbus 2001, Harry on his firebolt. Both racing to catch the snitch.
The tension hangs in the air, ready to let loose any second.
“Look, Potter! A bludger is coming your way!”
Harry turns reflexively to look - but even as he realizes that it was a mistake, the slight delay in speed is enough for Malfoy to lean forward and get closer to the Snitch.
“Ha! Saint Potter. Not everyone gets to win, you know that, skull-brain? Wait till Slytherin hears about this-”
Then Malfoy sneezes.
The ridiculous sound echoes throughout the whole stadium. The crowd below gasps, and Harry seizes the opportunity to catch the snitch.
It all happens so fast.
Groans immediately erupt from the sea of green where the Slytherins are; cheers burst from solid red and gold on the other side of the stadium, where I'm sitting. Harry holds the snitch in his right hand, raising it high in the air on his broom. Other Gryffindors instantly rush over, congratulating him on catching the snitch and trying to touch his Firebolt.
Ron and I clamber down the stands to rush toward Harry as well.
The Slytherins are now calling for a rematch, scolding Madam Hooch for being a terrible referee. She shrugs nonchalantly with a slight smile on her face, and seeing the Slytherin defeat makes my heart swell in pride.
Harry’s done it. Victory is ours.
The Gryffindors are already planning a party in the common room that will last for three whole days. Without further delay, everyone is running back inside the castle to escape the sunlight. It’s a lot cooler in here. Despite it being August, the temperature is still scorching hot.
We walk from corridor to corridor, the three of us sticking together in the crowd.
“- that was wicked, Harry! Did you see the look on Malfoy’s face?” Ron continues rambling to Harry nonstop. “I reckon the party tonight will be bloody fantastic - Gryffindor defeat, and over Slytherin! I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve done that at this point… serves the Slytherins right for all that special Snape treatment -”
After getting into the Gryffindor Common Room, we settle into the many squashy armchairs and decide to play Exploding Snap to kill time.
The happiness inside me never disappears.
~ Draco ~
The Gryffindors are always winning. Madam Hooch probably made them win. Prejudiced Ravenclaws.
There is nothing but silence in the Common Room now. The tide has turned.
I had my supporters. The Slytherins were counting on me to win. I was so close, so close - but who would continue to give me support now? I lost the match because of a sneeze.
How ridiculous.
Unacceptable.
I stop my pacing and stare blankly into the fireplace, looking at the warm flames. They don’t make me feel any warmer than I am. Instead of the beautiful victory that I could’ve gained, I’m deserted in defeat. Cold with ferocity.
Gryffindor won. The words keep flashing across my mind relentlessly, and as much as I’ve already thought about this I can’t help myself. Anger boils inside me. At least the Gryffindor team didn't have to buy their way in. They got in with pure talent. A girl's voice - a Mudblood’s voice - echoes in my head. I shake my head to clear things.
No, she's not right. Of course she isn't. That was four years ago. We've been enemies ever since we saw each other. I don't want anything to do with her. Slytherins are superior. Granger doesn't know anything about real magic - only purebloods do. The Gryffindors didn’t deserve the victory.
The Gryffindors didn’t deserve the victory.
They don’t deserve any victories.
I’ll just have to make sure they don’t get a single one in the future.
Slowly, but steadily, my supporters will return. The tide will turn back. And despite this setback, Father will be proud.
Father will be proud.
But will I ever be enough?
The silence in the stadium is deafening.
Everyone sits on the edge of their seats. Malfoy on the Nimbus 2001, Harry on his firebolt. Both racing to catch the snitch.
The tension hangs in the air, ready to let loose any second.
“Look, Potter! A bludger is coming your way!”
Harry turns reflexively to look - but even as he realizes that it was a mistake, the slight delay in speed is enough for Malfoy to lean forward and get closer to the Snitch.
“Ha! Saint Potter. Not everyone gets to win, you know that, skull-brain? Wait till Slytherin hears about this-”
Then Malfoy sneezes.
The ridiculous sound echoes throughout the whole stadium. The crowd below gasps, and Harry seizes the opportunity to catch the snitch.
It all happens so fast.
Groans immediately erupt from the sea of green where the Slytherins are; cheers burst from solid red and gold on the other side of the stadium, where I'm sitting. Harry holds the snitch in his right hand, raising it high in the air on his broom. Other Gryffindors instantly rush over, congratulating him on catching the snitch and trying to touch his Firebolt.
Ron and I clamber down the stands to rush toward Harry as well.
The Slytherins are now calling for a rematch, scolding Madam Hooch for being a terrible referee. She shrugs nonchalantly with a slight smile on her face, and seeing the Slytherin defeat makes my heart swell in pride.
Harry’s done it. Victory is ours.
The Gryffindors are already planning a party in the common room that will last for three whole days. Without further delay, everyone is running back inside the castle to escape the sunlight. It’s a lot cooler in here. Despite it being August, the temperature is still scorching hot.
We walk from corridor to corridor, the three of us sticking together in the crowd.
“- that was wicked, Harry! Did you see the look on Malfoy’s face?” Ron continues rambling to Harry nonstop. “I reckon the party tonight will be bloody fantastic - Gryffindor defeat, and over Slytherin! I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve done that at this point… serves the Slytherins right for all that special Snape treatment -”
After getting into the Gryffindor Common Room, we settle into the many squashy armchairs and decide to play Exploding Snap to kill time.
The happiness inside me never disappears.
~ Draco ~
The Gryffindors are always winning. Madam Hooch probably made them win. Prejudiced Ravenclaws.
There is nothing but silence in the Common Room now. The tide has turned.
I had my supporters. The Slytherins were counting on me to win. I was so close, so close - but who would continue to give me support now? I lost the match because of a sneeze.
How ridiculous.
Unacceptable.
I stop my pacing and stare blankly into the fireplace, looking at the warm flames. They don’t make me feel any warmer than I am. Instead of the beautiful victory that I could’ve gained, I’m deserted in defeat. Cold with ferocity.
Gryffindor won. The words keep flashing across my mind relentlessly, and as much as I’ve already thought about this I can’t help myself. Anger boils inside me. At least the Gryffindor team didn't have to buy their way in. They got in with pure talent. A girl's voice - a Mudblood’s voice - echoes in my head. I shake my head to clear things.
No, she's not right. Of course she isn't. That was four years ago. We've been enemies ever since we saw each other. I don't want anything to do with her. Slytherins are superior. Granger doesn't know anything about real magic - only purebloods do. The Gryffindors didn’t deserve the victory.
The Gryffindors didn’t deserve the victory.
They don’t deserve any victories.
I’ll just have to make sure they don’t get a single one in the future.
Slowly, but steadily, my supporters will return. The tide will turn back. And despite this setback, Father will be proud.
Father will be proud.
But will I ever be enough?
