Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A strange haze held over this particular morning, much to Hermione’s distaste. She took another sip out of her mug before setting it down on the counter. The longer she stared out the Burrow’s window the more she realized how dreary the backyard had become. The kids had recently taken to practicing herbology spells, so that now the garden was overtaken by vines, weeds and various grasses. What once was fresh and inviting was now thorny and dying. The chairs outside had begun to rust due to a special enchanted rain Rose had tried earlier in the week. Strange rustling came from unwelcome-looking shrubbery below the window. She smirked and gently shook her head, taking another sip. Surely, Harry’s godson Teddy had let out another strange creature into the yard.

She had asked Ron to encourage them all to rectify what was once her beautiful garden, but she presumed he hadn’t gotten to that yet. He was away now on a trip with his brother Charlie, who needed an extra set of hands (and an extra wand) for his latest dragon discovery expedition. Ron had always wanted to go along ever since he was little—so how could she object? But watching the children alone this week in particular had been overwhelming. She had just gotten an owl earlier in the week letting her know that the eggs the brothers had discovered weren’t like any other recorded previously so Ron would have to stay and help out a week longer than originally planned. Normally, she wouldn’t mind but the timing wasn’t ideal. As Hermione went up the ranks in the Ministry, more responsibility befell her—which she embraced wholeheartedly. But with school starting up for her children, it seemed a daunting task to get them ready for the term while also starting up such a large project at work.

The Ministry had set her in charge of investigating rumors of illegal trafficking of House Elves happening still under her department's nose. If these rumors were true, that would mean that the culprits had magic advanced enough to evade their usual detective systems. The file folder was a few inches away from her hand, she slowly drew it towards herself and let out another sigh. Ordinarily she would set up an elite team to take on such a project but because this operation undermined all that she had worked for in the last ten years she had made it her personal mission. She was hoping that the information inside had changed, that the suspects would be strangers to her and she could pursue without hesitance. She shut her eyes and opened up the flap. But she couldn’t change what the investigation had already led to. She sighed again as she looked upon a moving image of Draco Malfoy turning up the collar of his coat against the cold and turning down a dark alleyway. Her mouth puckered into a straight line. Of course he would never change. Whatever sympathy she may have had for him throughout the years had evaporated. She couldn’t help but wonder what devious plot made him go to Knockturn Alley that particular day his photo was captured.

“Mum?” Hugo called softly from behind his mother. Hermione quickly licked her lips, shut the file and turned around realizing he may have been calling her name for quite some time.

“Sorry, love. What is it? Is it time for breakfast already?” Hermione glanced up at the clock they had inherited from her in-laws. It was a muggle habit to look at the face of a clock and expect to see time. Instead she saw Ron’s spoon still pointed to somewhere that wasn’t home.

“Don’t we still have to go and pick up Rose's books today?” The young boy asked timidly. All of the tasks Hermione would normally have done months in advance had fallen to this dreaded week.

“Oh! Yes, of course. Is your sister up? Rose!” she called. She began scrambling around the kitchen getting together all the lists they would need, pouring Hugo some tea, finding their jackets for the day, and tucking away the folder into her desk in the other room.

By the time they reached Diagon Alley it was full of all the last-minute Hogwarts shoppers.

“This is why we should’ve gone WEEKS ago!” Rose emphasized, crossing her arms and throwing dirty looks at the masses. She, like her mother, hated procrastination.

Hermione was flustered. The case had been keeping her up at night and now had distracted her for too long this morning. The sun still hadn’t come out and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. The breeze was unforgivingly cold and so she sent Rose and Hugo over to see their Uncle George who would presumably be in Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes today, and who would hopefully offer them some warmth and treats. She was barely balancing their stacks of books, reaching for twine to tie them up she knew she had in her coat pocket. A strong wind whipped her hair around her face and someone bracing the wind when someone bumped hard into her shoulder, knocking her off balance. All the beautiful books she had just purchased were mixed up and strewn on the ground around her. She hoped too many pages weren’t bent. She crouched down to begin to straighten them out, and while most figures in coats passed her by on this harsh day, one person bent down and stacked the books remaining beside her.

“Thank you so much” Hermione whispered, exacerbated. “I’ve had sort of a crazy day...” Her eyes met the friendly strangers as she took the stack of books from his hand. Her mouth remained agape but couldn’t quite finish her thought. She hadn’t expected to see him in this fashion.

“Draco…” she breathed briefly, before realizing her pause “that’s quite alright—I’ve got it all now thank you.” She speedily gathered up all of her belongings and straightened herself upwards. She proudly stuck her chin up as she moved the hair out of her face and adjusted her coat. Draco didn’t say anything in response, his face had been expressionless throughout their interaction. He simply nodded and backed away, his son Scorpius approaching behind him. Draco gestured his son into the bookstore and he followed behind him into the doorway, stopping briefly to lift his hand as if to say goodbye to her. Hermione stood puzzled, her eyebrows furrowing in embarrassment. She pressed forward towards the other shops, trying to put his face out of her mind for the second time that day.

Chapter Text

“Big project?” A voice asked loudly. Hermione shot up, not realizing she had fallen asleep. Strewn across her lap and chest and all across the coffee table and floor before her lay various papers—above her, Ginny Potter laughed and shook her head. “I never understood how you did it all these years” Ginny reached for the papers remaining on the couch and organized them into a pile on the table. Hermione adjusted to make room for her sister-in-law to sit, rubbing her eyes and sorting herself out. “People with great ambitions need great support systems.” Ginny raised her eyebrows and took another sweeping look around. “Why didn’t you call me for help if you needed it? I’ve been on a hiatus for a month now.” Ginny set her hand on Hermione’s. Hermione smiled gently, wincing slightly in embarrassment.

“I hadn’t realized I needed help” Hermione admitted silently as she stood up to stretch. “Can I get you something?” She flicked her hand over towards the kettle which began to heat up.

“I’m fine thanks.” Ginny followed Hermione into the kitchen. “But is there anything I can do for you? I can run errands—or if you need help on your project you know I over-hear enough from Harry’s work that I can be a fresh set of eyes, ideas...” Ginny offered. Hermione shut her eyes briefly, considering this before shaking her head.

“If Harry wasn’t on such a vital assignment already I would’ve snagged him for mine. There isn’t anything I particularly need help with though—just maybe a little encouragement. It’s the first time in a very long time that I have had hesitance and doubts. Harry makes a great partner because he makes you feel invincible, he builds you up, doesn’t he?” Hermione smiled and looked up at Ginny who nodded.

“That's one of the things I love about him. No matter how large and outrageous my ambitions seem he makes me feel like I can achieve them. And then he supports me no matter the outcome, no matter my choices.” Ginny mused. Hermione looked at a framed picture on a shelf above the kettle as she prepared some tea. Her and Ron were smiling at the camera on their wedding day, and then back at each other before kissing. Harry was always a better friend to her than Ron was— where Ron was oblivious-Harry was attentive, where Ron was harsh-Harry was gentle. All the years of teasing and arguing were a young Ron’s way of unsuccessfully channeling his feelings for her. He had been insecure— thinking of rejection, thinking of popularity. In time he had grown to mature, he was able to say the things that he truly felt. They were just usually negative things. Hermione had always been one to be honest and true. But was she being true to herself lately?

Ginny had been silently observing Hermione’s changing expressions. “My brother had never been the brightest wizard. I had hoped he would make for a wiser husband. He should’ve known better than to leave you alone now. Your line of work ending up being as stressful and dangerous as it does. Kids starting another term. If mum was still alive she would send a howler his way demanding he return to his responsibilities. If not fly there and get him herself.” Hermione smirked and shifted uncomfortably, stirring a cup of tea she had just poured. “Mid-life crisis indeed...” Ginny scoffed, leaning against the counter.

“Ron is so many things to me. He is calm when I am a whirlwind. He keeps me from worrying all the time. Without him here—it’s just hard.” At that moment a very old cat jumped down from its hiding place on top of the fridge, knocking over Hermione’s tea. Ginny laughed.

“Is this still one of Crookshanks’ offspring? Or is it a grand-kitten? I never could keep track. They all look like orange blobs to me” Ginny gently poked the cat’s nose in its sunken face. Hermione was furiously cleaning up the tea before it got to the floor. Ginny rolled her eyes. “Listen, you need a break. And not just a pass-out-on-the-couch break. Let’s go out to the pub. Have a drink.” Ginny grabbed the towel from Hermione’s hand and tossed it into the sink before putting her hands on Hermione’s shoulders “Come on. Please. Let’s go.” Ginny shook Hermione until she finally broke out into a smile.

“Alright, alright. Sure. If I don’t have a break, I will surely have a breakdown. Let me just get my things—” Hermione began spinning around, searching in drawers.

“You look great! It’ll be my treat—let’s go!” Ginny said impatiently, shoving Hermione towards the front door.

The pub Ginny chose was one where many sports fans clearly gather regularly. It was not Hermione’s ideal choice but she was happy to be away from her work. They both ordered drinks and sat down in a cozy booth and chatted for a while.

“How would Ron help you if he were here? What would he say to get you out of this whirlwind?” Ginny asked, finishing off her third glass of Blishen's Firewhisky and gesturing to the waiter for another. Hermione thought about it for a moment, swirling the glass of Butterbeer she had hardly touched.

“He would probably tell me not to stress. That everything will work itself out.” Hermione shrugged.

“That’s it? That’s what you would be getting from him? Anyone can tell you that. I’ll tell you that right now if you want” Hermione was about to object when Ginny leaned forward only inches away from Hermione’s face. “Are you happy?” Hermione nearly choked on her beer.

“What?” Hermione squeaked, wiping foam from her mouth.

“Are you happy?” Ginny pressed.

“With my work? Yes, I...I find it very rewarding to bring justice to those who are subjugated and—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know you’re passionate about your job and the stress is balanced out by the reward. But what about the rest of your life?”

Hermione paused. “What do you mean?

“You know what I mean.” Despite the alcohol, Ginny was as sharp and observant as ever. “Lots of couples fall into slumps. Some recover, some don’t. Marriage isn’t the end-all be-all. Life is long. Why waste time on something that’s not working out? Why be less happy than you could be? That’s what I say” Ginny finished bluntly with a shrug.

“Well… You know, I—Some things are worth fighting for” Hermione whispered, flustered.

“And is it? Is what you have worth it? Once the kids are all grown and out on their own, will you still be satisfied? Listen—you’ll always be my sister. But I’ve known Ron all my life. And while I will always support the two of you, I think you deserve so much more than what he’s been giving you lately. You’ve got such great ambition, such passion. Ron is content with little and only concerns himself with himself. He’s always been that way. How long are you going to wait for him to be the man you want him to be?”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink. And so have I—” Hermione stood up. “Thanks for the night out. I will— talk to you later” She grabbed her coat and her purse and stormed out of the bar.

By the time she got to her front porch she had finally processed what Ginny had said. She shook her head and then allowed herself to sink down against the front door. The old cat mewed a question at her from the adjacent bush before approaching Hermione’s slumped form. Crookshanks II gently licked a tear that had trickled down Hermione’s hand. Hermione lifted her head and pet the sweet creature, as if to thank it for its kindness. She sniffed as she pulled herself together and decided she would use her frustration to work harder on her project. If there was ever a time to throw herself into this case it was now.

“Come on, Crookie, let’s get inside, yeah?” Hermione cooed while opening the front door and stepping into her home. She was startled by a figure standing before her, she quickly grabbed towards her coat pocket to retrieve her wand but then heard a familiar voice.

“Where’ve you been?”

Hermione sighed in relief. “Ron, oh god, you scared me. What are you doing here? I thought you were suppose—”

“I came home early to surprise you and you weren’t even here!” Ron scolded, throwing his hands in the air.

“Well..I wasn’t expecting you home until—”

“And to make matters worse I got a call from a friend—you were down at the pub having drinks? Who were you with? This time of night?” He stepped out of the darkness into her space. “Were you out with someone?” He accused, eyes squinting in suspicion.

“I was out with YOUR sister Ron. I— she came over and wanted to take me out, we got a little carried away and stayed out sort of late. I didn’t know you were coming home early, of course I would’ve been here if I had known.” Hermione explained, trying to reach out to his arm but he flinched away.

“Sorry, I just had a long trip out here to come home especially for you and when I get here, I hear you’re out on a work night. Just didn’t sit right.” He shook his head. Hermione’s mouth stayed open for a moment before frustration ran across her face.

“Oh come on. I have been doing everything around here so you can go and do what you want to do—”

“I was helping out my brother! It wasn’t a vacation—it was still work!” Ron hissed.

“Work! You cannot be seriously lecturing me on what qualifies as work, I work full time and do the majority of—”

“Oh yes, Ron the useless husband! I do nothing do I?” Ron sneered.

“I never said that—I—I just don’t think you appreciate all that I do considering how little trust you give me—”

“What about those letters I found two years ago? How am I supposed to trust you after that?!”

“We have been over this! My pen-paling with Viktor was purely platonic— he’s happily married, we live different lives! I don’t think of him in that way! The only reason I didn’t tell you was because of how out of control your jealousy can be!” Hermione ranted before lowering her voice “I thought after the locket you would have learned how jealousy can skew your mind and rule your life but clearly—”

“The only thing that’s clear to me is that you are keeping secrets from me again” Ron stated cooly, shrugging.

“Keeping secrets? Are you mental? I would’ve told you about going out with Ginny once you got back—I have nothing to hide!” Hermione exclaimed in a frenzy. Just then there was a knock at the door. Ginny stepped in slowly around the door and quietly shut it behind her.

“Sorry to interrupt. I forgot my scarf—” Ginny confidently crossed the room and picked up her scarf from the back of the couch. “Good to see you made it home safely” she nodded towards Ron, who, still sulking, nodded back. Ginny lowered her voice and turned toward Hermione “And I’m sorry about what I said earlier, I’m sure you know what’s best for you” she looked meaningfully for a moment then flicked her eyes back to her brother “Goodnight!” She waved her scarf up to say goodbye as her figure disappeared down the road.

“She never does know when she’s in an awkward situation” Ron shook his head, lowering his folded arms.

“I figure it’s because she lives her life so she never feels awkward.” Hermione responded quietly, shutting the door once more.

“Huh. You’re probably right. As always.” Ron sighed and approached Hermione, rubbing her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I overreacted. I just missed you. I have so much to tell you.” Hermione gently smiled and nodded.

“I’m sorry too.” For what, she wasn’t sure.

Perhaps for the doubt she now felt as she lay in bed listening to his tales, and only his tales, for he had yet to ask about how things had been here. Once he was snoring beside her, she quietly shuffled back down into the living room, looking up at their clock to see if indeed the true Ron had come back. And sure enough the jealous being who lay in their bed was him—his spoon was pointed home. He had always been that way she had come to see. But she always forgave him. She was imperfect too, she told herself, and he had forgiven her sins. She sat down and pulled her paperwork close to her, it was time to crack this case.

Chapter Text

Today would be a better day, Hermione told herself. A week of tension with Ron had led her to work extra hard. Now she had all her work in order and was walking up to the ruins of Malfoy Manor at last. The gate had creaked open easily enough. She was sure in its heyday it had every enchantment known to magical kind. But now the lawns have roughened, the beautiful creatures gone, outer spells weakened. It reminded her of her own backyard at the moment. She knew that people still lived here though, but as for who she couldn’t really be sure. Ever since the war, the Ministry has been trying to earn back the trust of the people in order to do proper censusing. But considering they were rounding people up and trying them in court, she didn’t blame any citizen for their hesitation. The Malfoys were especially mysterious. They wanted neither side of the war to discover where, if anywhere, they went.

She was at the intimidating front door. The black paint was withering, but the knocker was still an ornate vibrant silver. It was in the shape of a serpent. She gently lifted it and knocked three times.

“Hello!” Hermione called. “Ministry of Magic, open up”.

“Who is it?” An old woman’s voice harshly whispered from just behind the door.

“Yes, hello. My name is Mrs. Granger-Weasley and I am from the Department of—”

“I know you” the voice whispered. “What is it you want from me?”

“With whom am I speaking, Ma'am? I am looking for a Draco Lucius Malfoy. We just need to ask him a few questions in regards to a pending investigation and I—” the door opened suddenly and before Hermione stood a very slender elderly Narcissa Malfoy. Her cheekbones were still high and pretty but her face was very thin and wrinkled. She still wore makeup even in her old age and her expression still reflected a proud woman. She was using a cane that had once belonged to her husband to balance.

“Draco? He’s not here. He hasn’t lived here for quite some time.” She said with a resounding sadness she could not hide.

“Oh, I see. Perhaps you could direct me to where I might be able to find him —” Before Hermione could finish, Narcissa turned around into the hallway and gestured Hermione to follow.

“Come in. Have some tea.” Hermione looked around and adjusted the badge on her lapel before entering behind the old woman.

The vast living room was dark and dreary as ever. She had hoped to never see this place again. She still had nightmares about what Bellatrix had done to her just over there on that floor. She was glad that the years of therapy had helped her be able to face this moment. The once beautiful hardwood and furniture—the decadent wallpaper and fireplace—all had fallen into disrepair and was coated in dust.

“Sit, sit. I’ll make you a drink and then you can tell me what Draco is in trouble for. As his mother, I have a right to know, no matter how old he is” Narcissa continued to mumble about her son as she slowly headed into the kitchen. Hermione sat on the cleanest part of the couch as not to be rude to her host. She began looking around at the dusty paintings and various forgotten things until she realized quite a bit of time had passed.

“Narcissa? Mrs. Malfoy?” Hermione stood up. She heard a shriek from upstairs. She reached for her wand and quickly mounted the shaky staircase. “Mrs. Malfoy! Please, are you alright? What happened?” Upstairs, there was only one door unlocked and ajar so Hermione hesitantly approached it. “Mrs. Malfoy?” She lowered her voice and pressed the door open further. She stepped into the room, scanning for any sign of the fallen woman. Someone behind her quickly shut the door and locked it.

“Mrs. Malfoy?!” Hermione flipped around.

“My boy has done nothing wrong,” Mrs. Malfoy said through the shut door. “He has left any kind of evil or malice behind him. He serves no Dark Lord anymore. You are not going to accuse my Draco, after all I’ve done for him, all these years. You will not jeopardize his freedom. I am sure you will realize he is innocent... in time.” The old woman’s footsteps could be heard walking away.

“In time? Mrs. Malfoy, please this is just a routine questionnaire, I have nothing to accuse your son of, he may just possess vital information for my investigation. Please, unlock the door, let me go on my way, I won’t bother you anymore!” Hermione pleaded. “Alohomora!” She whispered with her wand several times to get the ancient door open. It would not budge.

Hermione frantically spun around the room looking for another exit. She immediately tried to apparate back outside but the house wouldn’t allow her. The windows were all blocked out and enchanted too, she had tried opening them several times to no avail. This house was ancient and had more years of magic protecting it than she had learned in her short life. But she would not be content to wait for Narcissa to come and feed her, if that is the sort of hostage she had become. She had to escape. She took a deep breath and tried to refocus. She was in a bedroom, a rather large one. But she doubted Mrs. Malfoy, Lady of the Manor, would lock a stranger in her own bedroom. No, the bed was coated in many layers of dust, each corner covered in cobwebs. As she began to take in the room she came to realize that it was Draco's. The bed had dark green velvets and black satins, and all the woodwork around the room was carved beautifully and encrusted with dark gems and crystals. But it was not the decadence or grandeur of the room that made her realize it was his—it was the vanity mirror. It had been cracked as if someone had thrown a punch into it. She knew Draco to be a troubled, tumultuous individual. She traced over the cracks in the mirror and then over the surface of the desk. She quietly opened the drawers and shuffled things around gently with her wand. She didn’t want to accidentally touch something malicious, but she wanted to know every bit of information she could about this room. She imagined most people would have drawers full of old letters and photos, knick knacks and keepsakes. Draco on the other hand had either cleared out all of his belongings or didn’t have any to begin with. In the bottom drawer, far in the back she dragged a large heavy key with her wand. She examined it briefly before gently lifting it with “Leviosa”.

“And where do you lead to?” She whispered. It spun around delicately before her, and she used any detective spells she could think of to see if it was cursed or protected, but nothing seemed to be enchanting it. So she let it fall into her hand. She rushed towards the bedroom door but it was about twice the size as the keyhole there. She knew it would’ve been too good to be true. Beyond that— she knew there was also enchantment at work here. A key alone would not allow her to escape. She tucked the dark key into her blazer pocket and began her search once more. Half an hour had passed with no fruition. She slumped onto the edge of the bed in a huff. She pulled out the case file from her bag. The Malfoys had been known to be very pro-House Elf enslavement, that was no secret. But ever since the war they had caused no trouble, barely raised their heads up and made a peep.

“They always did try to lie low” she muttered aloud. “Lie low—lying low!” She dropped to the floor and began scanning the walls of the bedroom. “Most House Elves travel with magic—apparating from one room to another as needed, but older homes and buildings were built with passages for them.” She ran her hands along the wallpaper searching for any indication that a passageway may be covered up behind it. “I’d have to lie low to get through it—” Just behind a floor-length Slytherin tapestry she found it, a small little groove underneath the wallpaper that felt like a little door. She tore off the paper and revealed a miniature door. She pressed against the wood, but even in its old age it would not give. She noticed a black metal square on the door and she had to use all her might to move it—but, just as she expected, it revealed a rather large key hole. Breathlessly, she snatched the key from her blazer pocket and shoved it in. She looked back behind her, over the bed towards the main door but heard no sound, no footsteps. The key turned with some effort but luckily it didn’t make too much noise. The passageway before her was pitch black and had a putrid odor emerging from it. It was just big enough for her to crawl through on her hands and knees.

“Lumos” she whispered and her wand obediently lit her way forward. She took a deep, sharp breath and then began crawling her way into the darkness.

She did not know how long she would crawl for, much less if she should take any turns if she came across them. Her hair, which had been up and tidy, began to unravel, her clean and crisp blazer was now coated in dust and cobwebs, and her business skirt had begun to tear at the hem. And the cobblestones on the ground were doing her knees no favors. If she did ever emerge from this tunnel, she would definitely look worse for wear, she thought. In truth, Hermione had aged gracefully. Though wrinkles had begun to form they complemented her, emphasizing her kind, brown eyes. And even though parts of her hair had begun to gray and lose their luster, her beauty still held strongly.

When Narcissa Malfoy had looked upon her face a few hours earlier, she thought Hermione looked as she did all those years ago. Surely Hermione was here to persecute her son for all the wrong-doings of his father. Surely, she was here to ruin what life he had left to live. She grabbed a handful of powder from a pot on her mantlepiece and tossed it into the fireplace.

Back in the tunnel Hermione was in luck for the passageway ended abruptly. She shoved her weight against the end of the passage which had only been boarded up with a few pieces of wood. It broke suddenly and she fell part-way through. She was in another room but she couldn’t exactly tell what sort. There didn’t appear to be a bed—so perhaps it was a sitting room. As she pulled herself up she noticed there were many pieces of furniture covered up with old sheets. A storage room, perhaps. There did not appear to be an obvious door out to the hallway. There was only one window and it was small and very high up. It gave just enough light to be able to see the general space of the room. A large item was pushed up against the opposite wall—perhaps this was concealing the exit, she thought. She gently pulled the cover off and let it fall to the ground. The dust nearly choked her but she tried to stifle her coughing as not to be heard. It was a grand, dark cabinet. She tried to peer behind it and shove it aside, even attempted magic to move it —but it was no use. She hesitantly opened the doors which triggered a series of moving pieces to open up even larger than she imagined, almost knocking her over.

“A pensieve...” she whispered. It slowly and silently came to a halt just before her. Shelves had opened up to reveal memory vials. She paused briefly to consider this may be some sort of trap. But she sensed nothing. And her curiosity only grew with every passing second. She reached out to gently touch the vials, wondering whose memories these were, what memories they were.

“Dammit all!” Narcissa screeched suddenly from down the hall, causing Hermione to knock into the cabinet— dropping the vials forward into the pensieve.

“Shoot!” Hermione whispered. She did not know what would happen if multiple vials were dumped in at once. But it was now or never. Surely Narcissa had discovered the empty room she was supposed to be in, but hopefully she hadn’t figured out where Hermione had gone. The tapestry should’ve fallen back over the passage but she couldn’t be sure Narcissa didn’t know of the path.

Hermione gently re-approached the glowing pool, beautiful swirls of color drifting before her eyes and then before she knew it she was sliding down into someone’s memories.

Chapter Text

A 12-year-old Draco crept down a dark hallway of the Manor and peered secretly in a lit doorway. Current-day Hermione softly trailed behind him.

“No more secrets, Lucius” Narcissa whispered harshly in what appeared to be Lucius Malfoy’s old home office. “Whatever plans— whatever schemes, I am to know of them—understand me? My job is to protect this family. I cannot protect us—I cannot protect our son until you give me details! What to prepare for! I know you are planning something, you will include me or you will regret it.” She leaned forward on his desk.

“It’s that blasted Arthur Weasley. The buffoon proposed a Muggle Protection Act at the last meeting. The Ministry is breathing down our necks looking for ‘illicit dark artifacts’. The world is shifting again Narcissa, and this time I cannot claim to be under a curse and I cannot hide.” Lucius growled.

“So what are you planning to do?”

Dobby suddenly snuck up next to young Draco, who held up a frantic finger for silence from the House Elf.

“The Dark Lord entrusted me with a plot before his victory was stolen” He dug into a drawer in his desk and pulled out a black diary with a handkerchief. “He wanted this reintroduced to the Hogwarts student population— it is bewitched to re-open the Chamber of Secrets”

Dobby began to shiver and point frantically around, clearly distressed with this news. Draco had to shush him again and hold down his flopping limbs.

“And the beast? ” Narcissa pressed.

“Once the Chamber is opened, the Basilisk will begin to rid the school of the filth they’ve allowed in. A small victory in the name of purebloods and in the Dark Lord’s plan for domination. Parents and the greater public will be calling for Dumbledore’s head after each death. And as a bonus, if given to the right person—it could also discredit the Muggle Act. The daughter of Mr. Arthur Weasley opens the Chamber of Secrets. Won’t go over well for him I’m afraid. Hopefully that Harry Potter will get in the way and be purged as well.”

The memory faded away and swirled into Flourish and Blotts. She was beside twelve year old Draco again who was pouring over a book about basilisks. He scanned the page frantically and then perked up when he heard a frenzy below. He leaned over the railing to the downstairs section to see the craze over Harry Potter’s arrival. He rolled his eyes and watched the scene below. Current day Hermione was puzzled to find that she recognized the page he was scanning over. She watched Draco descend the stairs to meet up with younger versions of herself, Harry, Ginny and Ron. As he walked down Draco tore out a page confidently, acting as though he was defiling the book. But she watched him gently fold the page and slip it into his pocket.

“Bet you loved that didn’t you, Potter…” Draco spat. The memory began to warp forward and she could hear her younger self say “Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself” in a squeaky voice, and saw young Draco staring at her younger face. The memory became more clear again.

Lucius Malfoy had stepped forward “And you must be Miss Granger. Yes, Draco’s told me all about you. And you parents. Muggles, aren’t they?...” Her young face shot fierce concerned looks at her parents who were further into the book shop. Current Hermione smiled gently at how young her parents looked, she missed them.

The memory lurched to Borgin and Burkes later that day.

Lucius was complaining to the shopkeeper. "I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin... Though if his school marks don't pick up, that may indeed be all he is fit for —"

"It's not my fault. The teachers all have favourites, that Hermione Granger —" began Draco.

"I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam." His father sneered at him.

Draco looked away, ashamed and angry.

Another flash forward—to the second school term out in the courtyard.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent." Young Hermione said with confidence.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood." Draco sneered.

Another warp, they were in Professor Snape’s old office.

Severus leaned in to Draco “I know she’s an incessant know-it-all boy but why draw attention to yourself? Making little girls cry— is that the sort of dark task your father sends you on?”

“Father says she shouldn’t be better than me! But she is! In every class, every exam she scores higher than me! It doesn’t make sense! All my life I have had the best training, the best tutors and she somehow just comes from nothing and does it all! I hate her! She brings shame to my family! My father despises me now. She has humiliated me so why shouldn’t everyone humiliate her! She’s the one with dirty blood.” He sat down in a huff and crossed his arms.

Snape looked as if he was getting a headache. “Try and understand Draco, there is more to this world than your parents have taught you.”

“What do you know anyway? You’re not even pure blood are you! And—and from what I’ve heard of you actually fell for one of them! You’re a fraternizer! A traitor!”

Snape in an instant had Draco cornered “Get out.” Draco’s face fell as he realized he may have damaged his only true allegiance at the school.

The next thing Hermione knew they were in the Hogwarts library, what must’ve been a few weeks later.

Young Draco looked frantically around the library, sneaking around the aisles of books until he found what he was looking for. He looked around cautiously before pulling out a sheet of paper—the page he stole from the book in Diagon Alley. That’s when he saw her—young brilliant Hermione pouring over a pile of books, while cautiously looking into a mirror she had beside her. He began to strut towards her.

“Doesn’t that mirror shatter every time you look at it? Must be exhausting to keep fixing it.” He teased. Hermione didn’t even bother to look up.

“Leave me alone, I’m busy...” she said, bringing the books closer to her face. Draco took the opportunity to knock a nearby stack to the floor, dropping the page from his pocket amongst the many that came loose from the ancient books.

“Whoops...” Draco said as he sauntered away, smirking.

“Ugh! Jerk.” Hermione whispered as she collected the pages back up.

When he got back to his dorm room, Dobby was waiting for him on his bed “Master Draco”, he bowed. “Did you do it, sir? Did you tell the girl about the THING? I cannot say it SIR!”

Draco groaned “Yes, why are you here? We aren’t working together. You’re doing your thing and I’m doing mine. Separate, alright? Now get out of my face.” He gestured to Dobby to get off of his bed.

“Dobby is a little confused, though, Sir. I thought you hated...”

Draco removed his shoe and threw it at the Elf. Dobby squeaked and apparated away.

The memory turned yet again, but this time to their third year at Hogwarts.

A very offended Buckbeak rears up and knocks Draco down to the ground, injuring his arm. Teenage Hermione runs forward “Hagrid! He must be taken to a hospital!” As Hagrid carried him away, Draco looked back at Hermione’s worried face. Another warp forward.

Draco was lying in the school hospital wing, angrily glaring out the window. He sighed loudly as Dobby apparated next to him.

“What do you want?” Draco asked grumpily.

“Does it hurt?” Dobby tried to reach his hand towards Draco who flinched away.

“Why does she always have to care so much about everything?”

“Who, sir?” Dobby inquired.

“My father will be here soon, you should leave.” Draco muttered.

Another warp forward.

“You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!” Teenage Hermione hit Draco unexpectedly. He reeled away from the attack and ran off. He told his friends she would regret doing that. As he separated from them though in his room, he cried. Dobby appeared by his bedside.

“You’re not mine anymore! Go away.” Draco wiped away his tears roughly.

“Dobby is free now, he works here by his choice.”

“But why are you HERE right now. I command you to leave.” Draco said in growing anger.

“Dobby knows no master now, he goes where he pleases. He wanted to see how Sir Draco was since Dobby left the Manor. Dobby knows it must be hard for him at home to have no one to talk to now.”

“LEAVE!!” Draco searched frantically for a shoe to throw at Dobby as he usually did, missing very poorly. Perhaps he had on some level cared about Dobby— his only confidant in a house full of chaos and confusion, Hermione thought. A lonely existence.

Another quick lurch, possibly from the way the vials fell into the pensieve. Their fourth year, Hermione recognized.

Draco, like everyone else, stared in awe of Hermione at the Yule Ball, as she descended the stairs. Neither he nor Pansy could think of any insults to throw her way. Current day Hermione blushed at all the expressions of those around her, at the time it was all a blur. She saw Ron looking on in disbelief, horror and jealousy. She sighed and shook her head. As teenage Hermione took Viktor’s arm and waved at her friends, Pansy pulled herself back into the moment. Draco continued to watch Hermione walk away in silence, which Pansy noticed, causing her to pull him aside.

“What are you doing?” Pansy asked Draco through gritted teeth.

“What?”

“Why are you drooling over that?” Pansy gestured towards where Hermione stood in the ballroom doorway.

“I’m not drooling over anything, I just wanted to see what everyone was looking at.” Draco said defensively.

“Why did you bring me here tonight? You know I have feelings for you Draco but every time I try to make a move you reject me!”

“My father expects me to take someone—everyone expects me to uphold the family name. I needed to bring a pureblood” Draco rolled his eyes “You’re the only one I could think of that was worthwhile” Draco said plainly as he distractedly looked past Pansy at Hermione’s dress flowing into the ballroom.

“Only one you could think of?” Pansy crossed her arms. “How flattering.” She snapped her fingers in front of Draco’s face.

“I don’t want to argue” he mumbled, waving her hands out of his face.

“You need to straighten yourself out. Figure out what it is you want and then come find me.” Pansy jabbed her finger into his chest to emphasize her words and pushed past him. Draco did look handsome in his dress wear, current Hermione thought. His cheeks were finely chiseled and his blonde hair wasn’t its usual slicked-back greasy form that Hermione had always found unappealing. His eyes were sharp and blue and his thick brows framed them well. Draco gave one last look towards Hermione’s receding form and then followed behind Pansy, jogging to catch up to her.

The memory faded to later that night, Hermione was crying on the stairs, having just told Ron and Harry to leave her alone. She took off her shoes and had no one to console her. Current Hermione had forgotten how many times Ron had disappointed her. The teenage Hermione finally wiped her eyes and stopped whimpering, climbing the stairs with what pride she had left. Draco was at the top of the stairs in the shadows of the corridor, watching the scene unfold. As she turned to head towards the dormitory he stepped forward as if to reach out to her but then retracted his gestures and backed away hastily. Current day Hermione followed him. He moved swiftly as far away from that moment as he could. She found him heatedly talking with Snape.

“WHY? Why isn’t everything lining up the way it's supposed to! I—I don’t understand! I’m so confused!” Draco was pacing back and forth.

“Calm down, Draco” Snape leaned against his desk. Hermione figured Snape probably had to say this to him very often.

“Father always said—he always said that it was them or us. That we were all so different. That they were beneath us, unworthy of time or energy, unfit to lead, scum of the earth!”

Snape unphased, raised a brow. “And now you think…?”

“And now I DON’T know! I find myself so ANGRY all the time.”

“Angry at what?”

“At them! At my parents! At mudbloods! I don’t know —everyone!” Hermione could see so much pain run across Draco’s face, it was hard to watch. And from what she knew of Severus Snape, he could probably relate a lot to Draco. Being so alone, being so angry, so confused. But Harry had gone through hard circumstances too. His family mistreated him for so long, he lost so many people he loved, brought up among muggles who hated magic, being the chosen one since birth—so many people expecting so much from him— it must’ve been difficult for him too. And yet he chose to be kind, and brave from the beginning. But Snape was able to at least redeem some part of himself in the end—to change, to be selfless, to work on the side of good. Had Draco ever really redeemed himself? Hermione realized during her train of thought the memory had faded again.

Draco had his head in his hands. “It’s gotten so much worse. He’s back now. He has asked me to redeem my family. I am not ready for this. I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t even know if this is what I want to be doing!”

“Hush now boy, pull yourself together. If you want any chance for your family to be spared you will do this for the Dark Lord” Snape whispered tensely.

“Howww—-how can he ask so much of me? A task he himself was never able to accomplish” Draco’s eyes were streaming with tears.

“He doesn’t expect you to accomplish it, this is your father’s punishment for losing the prophecy and failing him. In the impossible chance you do then he is rid of a great enemy. But the Dark Lord is betting on your failure.”

“I don’t want my parents to get hurt but I don’t want any part of this. What can I do? Can’t we run? Can’t—can’t….I can’tttt….I never wanted to hurt people in this way. I just want this to be over”

Suddenly Hermione was being lifted up, dragged forwards and backwards and out of the pensieve altogether.

Current day Draco held her gently by the arm looking puzzled. All of Hermione’s professionalism and decorum melted away.

“What is this? Why do you have all these memories saved? I —I don’t understand” She gestured towards the pensieve and then shook his hand off of her arm. “Who do you think you are! Tell me where the house elves are! Admit it— it’s you! I will not stand for this!” She pulled out her wand and pointed it between his eyes.

“It’s Astoria, she’s the one you’re looking for.” Draco said quietly and calmly, looking Hermione directly in the eye.

“What?” Hermione took a step back. “Isn’t she—that’s your wife isn’t it?”

Draco raised his eyebrows and solemnly nodded.

“What evidence do you have? Why, why should I believe you? Pinning your misdeeds on your own wife!” Before Hermione could begin another accusatory rant, Draco cut her off.

“We talked about starting anew away from our pureblood family lines and prejudices and all that came with it. I thought we understood each other. I thought we were on the same page. I wanted to escape all that had happened.” He bent down and began placing a few fallen vials back into the cabinet. Hermione did not lower her wand but instead followed him with it. “Apparently her family had been doing it for generations and she couldn’t be the one to break tradition. We moved into my parents home and taught our son about equality of bloods and yet under our own roof she still practiced hypocrisy. I don’t think my parents truly forgave me for bringing my son up differently. The mistakes I made I wish my son would never have to face” Draco reached past Hermione to shut the cabinet door and she took a step aside, lowering her wand. “Once I figured out what was going on—what she was doing, I left. Took Scorpius with me. Didn’t want him to know what his mother was doing.” Hermione paused, taken aback by this insight. She had trouble believing him.

“What were you doing in Knockturn Alley the day this photo was taken?” She had pulled out the case file. He didn’t even glance at it, but instead continued to stare at Hermione.

“I’ve been working on clearing the old Manor of the cursed and dark artifacts” He gestured to the covered furniture. “I take them to Borgin and Burkes when I need assistance determining counterspells and the like. If I brought them into the Ministry I’d have to deal with the consequences of where they came from. My mother's too fragile to be submitted to another raid, and I just wanted it to be done with.”

“Fragile?” Hermione huffed “Hardly.” She began tucking the papers and photos back into her file and the file back into her bag.

“I am sorry if she mistreated you.” Draco tried to reach out his hand toward her but she shuffled aside and pointed towards the cabinet.

“And why do you have these memories?” She glared at him.

“I was sorting through them. Trying to decide how many times I could’ve turned my life around and didn’t. Learning from my mistakes I suppose. A little self-reflection.”

“Are they centered around me because I was the person who went into them, activated them?”
Draco shook his head. “Then I am at a loss here, I don’t understand.”

“I’m learning from my mistakes” He repeated again, quietly, looking away.

“What do you mean?”

“So much of my regret centers around the people I hurt. I lashed out at everyone because I was afraid, prideful and confused. Full of hate. And more often than not, for so long—that was you. I’ve been thinking about that so I was surprised to run into you the other day. But to tell you the truth I wasn’t quite ready to um—”

“I can imagine, Diagon Alley isn’t exactly the place—” Hermione cleared her throat nervously.

“Right. Yes, well. I was hoping to collect my thoughts and memories and then work to make amends with the people in my life. Even if it is too little too late. I could say I was a product of poor parents but we all have choices, don’t we? I chose to hurt you instead of dealing with my feelings. That was my choice and mine alone. At the time you represented what my parents always taught me was my enemy, you were also a fierce academic rival, and a threat to everything I was taught.”

“A threat?” She repeated.

“My family and every family I ever associated with believed Muggle-born wizards and witches were so many things...and you weren’t any of them. You were exceedingly talented and bright and… just so different. You challenged my beliefs and for that I lashed out at you. And that wasn’t right. I am sorry. For everything. I don’t expect us to be friendly. You have your life—I have mine. But I don’t want to live with my regrets. I want to move past them and be the best person I can—for me and for Scorpius.” Draco explained.

Hermione took a moment to take in what he had said. She looked over this current-day Draco, the photo she had been staring at over the weeks made him seem much more devious than he appeared in real life. His eyes were bright and clear, his face still chiseled and handsome even in older age. He had always been a sharp dresser, but she realized today and the day she saw him in Diagon Alley he had looked much softer, less harsh. For years he wore the nicest, top-of-the-line suits in shades of black and deep green. Now he seemed much more approachable and casual. Perhaps his mother had cut him off since he moved out, she nearly rolled her eyes imagining that all these years he’s lived off his parents work and not his own. She scanned over his face trying to recognize deception, but only found stillness. His face was guarded and expressionless, and he seemed to be waiting patiently for her to come to some sort of conclusion.

“I see.” She finally said much more calmly. She was here for work, she had to remind herself. “Well, I will need to verify the house elf trafficking claims for myself, so I will need to take a more official statement from you and must gather as much information I can from you before I take any further steps. I will need to be in contact with you so… we must update these forms.” She used her wand to lift out a series of papers and held them out for him to take. She half expected him to say no or rip the papers in half, but instead he gently took them and looked them over.

“Can we fill these out somewhere else? I prefer to spend as little time here as possible.” His eyes moving across the dusty room with a look of tired disgust.

“Yes, I—hang on how did you get in here? Where’s the entrance? I tried to locate it but…” She turned around the room trying to figure it out.

“I think a better question is how did you get in here? I always knew you were smart but that’s impressive.” They held a glance for a moment.

“Oh well—I just, you know—used the, um..” Hermione half-gestured towards the tiny doorway across the room. Draco nearly choked as he tried not to laugh. And she tried to hold her head up high.

“You crawled through there?” His eyebrows were raised in amusement.

“I —well, yes—your mother locked me in your room-” She flusteredly began to explain.

“Dobby would sometimes use that passage when I was a boy, so Mother wouldn’t hear him apparate when he came to visit me. But, yes the only way in or out of this particular room, secret House Elf passages aside, is by apparation”

“I tried to apparate out —”

“Apparation... by a Malfoy.” he gestured out his arm for her to take it. She stared at it and then back at him. If he was lying he could be taking her anywhere. But she did not know Draco to have such a level of sophisticated planning. And as far as she knew she could not find her own way out. She would have to trust him. She hesitantly took a step towards him, took his arm and in an instant they were gone.

Chapter Text

“Where are we?” Hermione breathed. They were upon the top of a hill, covered in stretches of meadow as far as the eye could see. Before them was an intricate iron fence, Draco gently opened the gate and walked through. Within the front yard were hundreds of flowers, stone pathways, a few herbs and other plants Hermione did not recognize.

“Scorpius’s Meadow, as he calls it. He’s really gotten into Herbology lately.” Draco walked briskly ahead on the stone path that divided both sides of the front garden.

“That’s like my Rose. But unfortunately her work in my yard has left it in quite a state” Hermione crossed her arms and slowly walked through the garden touching the flowers gently as she went along.

“That’s surprising—considering who their mother is. Half-Granger children should be excelling above all others.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was still behind.

Hermione stiffened up. “My children do very well thank you.”

Draco nodded, and gestured towards the small home that sat ahead on the property.

“This doesn’t seem like your kind of place...” Hermione observed, noting how quaint it was.

“You can only live in darkness for so long before you’re sick of it.” Draco muttered quietly, opening the front door. “Excuse the um— my work...” Draco shifted some boxes on the floor with his foot. All across the small space were tables filled with what appeared to be various alchemy sets and objects.

“What exactly is...your work?” Hermione was trying to make out what all of this could be.

“My father left me a rather large inheritance. Astoria got about half of it once we separated. But even so I don’t need to work. But I like to. I have always enjoyed working with dark objects—” Hermione shot him a look. “Studying them, that is, understanding them, disenchanting them—reversing curses. I’ve also been interested in alchemy, enchanting. After the trials and errors of creating the vanishing cabinet pair in school, I realized I actually enjoyed that sort of thing. But I figured I might as well help people out while I’m at it.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Help them out how exactly?”

“It may not be legal, strictly speaking. But the whole discreet curse removal seems to be something people seek out.” He made his way around the series of boxes, Hermione copied his movements so as to not knock over anything, or bump into something unsavory.

“The Ministry has a department specifically dedicated to things like this.” She stated frustratedly.

“It’s the discreet part people are concerned about, not everyone wants to be subjugated to searches and raids and paperwork and forms-” Draco glanced up at Hermione’s frown “Although I’m sure it’s all in place for a reason…” Hermione glared at him and straightened herself before sitting down at the kitchen table.

“Let’s get back to business then shall we? Please fill out all of these forms here, and then I have some questions for you regarding your wife and her whereabouts, the operations, the families involved—”

“All of that in one sitting? Now?” Draco sat across from her.

“Well—I, yes. This is an official investigation and the lives of innocent House Elves are at stake, there is no reason to drag out one of what will be many interviews—”

“Oh I see. It’s just that it is getting sort of late. I figured you’d have to be home by a certain time.” He didn’t look up to see how she reacted, instead he continued to flip through the pages.

Hermione paused for a moment before stating, “I do whatever I need to do during an investigation.”

“Doesn’t that affect your personal life?” Draco raised his eyebrows, still flipping through the packet.

“This isn’t about my personal life, in fact it’s about yours—so tell me everything please, from the beginning.” She lifted her wand and all of her supplies sorted themselves out on the table in front of her. “I advise you these forms will know whether you are accounting truthfully.” She pursed her lips and pointed to the first pile.

Draco sighed and began to tell Hermione what he knew of his wife’s covert operation. He explained about the utilization of old passages and dark magic, and that old pureblood families were trying to maintain what they once had to make up for all the power they had lost since the war. Hermione had a quill taking his statements while she diligently hand-wrote her own side notes.

“Er...” Draco said tentatively.

The quill stopped scribbling and she looked up, startled. “What is it?”

“The sun has already gone down, and I know this is important—but I really need to get some sleep. Can we pick up the rest of this tomorrow?”

Hermione looked around, she had been so enthralled in his stories that she did not realize how late it was and how tired she felt. “Oh I suppose you’re right. Well, very well then. Thank you so much for your cooperation, I will be in contact with you very soon. I am sure I will need your guidance as I go along through the investigation.” She packed up her things quickly and then made her way to the front door. Draco followed behind and opened up the door for her.

“So, tomorrow?” Draco asked gently, his fingers tapping on the doorway frame.

“Perhaps, it will, uh, depend on what other leads I may find in the meantime, what I discover when I read over my notes…” Draco nodded but didn’t make eye contact. “But, yes, until then—” Hermione held out her hand and Draco finally looked up to shake it. “Thank you again. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. Malfoy.” Draco was once again expressionless.

“You as well, Mrs. Granger... or is it Mrs. Weasley?”

“It’s Granger-Weasley, actually.” Hermione realized they were still shaking hands, which was much longer than she was ever comfortable with. They both adjusted awkwardly and paused for a moment.

“Am I, uh, can I apparate from here?” She said, gesturing to the front garden. Draco nodded and folded his arms, leaning in the doorway. “Right, great. Thanks.” She backed up into the garden.

He raised up one hand as if to say goodbye and she weakly nodded before he slunk away into his home, closing the door. Hermione stared at the shut door for a few moments before shaking her head and apparating away.

Chapter Text

“We can’t keep meeting like this...” Ginny joked, leaning over the back of the couch. Hermione slowly sat up, feeling like she’d been hit by a truck.

“Where’s Ron?” Hermione mumbled. “When I got in last night he wasn’t here.” She winced as she sat up.

“He was worried about you but once I told him about the case you were on he figured that’s what you were out doing—”

“I must’ve told him about this case a thousand times...” Hermione murmured, rubbing her neck.

“And then he said something about wanting a good night’s sleep and not being woken up by you in the middle of the night so he crashed at ours. Went back into work this morning early, George was happy to have him back I’m sure.” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“That’s good at least.” Hermione sighed. After things didn’t work out at the Auror’s Office, Ron had considered other Ministry work like his father, but it didn’t seem like he was suited to office life. Hermione had a feeling, considering his many years of loathing schoolwork, that Ron would not enjoy the paperwork and reports that came with those positions.

“You look awful. Let me make you some lunch while you clean yourself up. Bloody hell, what happened to your knees? Do I even want to know…?”

“Old House Elf passageway.” Hermione answered quietly.

“Ah.” Ginny raised her eyebrows. She moved into the kitchen and started gathering items to make food while Hermione gently got up.

“Thank you, Ginny, really.” She made her way to the bathroom and was taken aback by her reflection. Between the crawlspace, whirling through memories and staying up so late, Hermione certainly did not look herself. She could not believe she had made a professional step in the investigation looking as she did, what Draco must think of her, she thought. But what does she care what he thinks? She shook her head with a sigh and moved on.

Once she was showered and her injuries seen to, she enjoyed Ginny’s nice hot meal, though Ginny was no cook, it was still very welcome.

“I actually probably need to get going soon. I’m hot on the trail right now so I really shouldn’t take any time off.” Hermione said, finishing her last mouthful. “I appreciate you visiting me again though, truly.” Hermione gave Ginny a quick hug and started to gather her paperwork.

“And what are you so happy about?” Ginny asked. Hermione hadn’t realized she had been smiling excitedly.

“Oh. I, I don’t know, I guess I’m happy this case finally has some solid leads. It’s been haunting me for months now...”

“Mmm. I see” Ginny looked at her sister-in-law with interest but said nothing more about it. “Best of luck then!” Ginny called as she served herself another plate.

“Thanks!” Hermione swiftly grabbed her things and fled out the front door. Ginny watched from the window as Hermione stood there fidgeting. Hermione adjusted her suit, her hair, her bag, took a deep breath and then smirked before she apparated away. Ginny smiled and raised her eyebrows, wondering what had Hermione in such a state.

Hermione knocked gently on the cottage's front door.

“Oh. Hi. I-uh, wasn’t expecting you to come back so soon-” Draco seemed genuinely surprised.

“Sorry, am I intruding? I thought we said today.”

“No, no, not at all. Let me just —” Draco tucked back in the house to rearrange some things. “Right. Come in.”

“What was that you were moving?” Hermione asked suspiciously, peering around.

“Ah, just one of my many projects.” Draco gestured for her to sit back at the kitchen table where they were only just the night before.

“It is strange to see you so passionate about something...” She said without realizing.

“Ah. I can see why...” Draco walked over to the counter. “Back then I didn’t know I could be passionate about anything. Seemed like my options for living my life were already set for me and I just had to channel through them.” He looked out the window for a moment before offering her a cup of tea.

Over the next few weeks, Hermione had several interviews with a very important lead, she told Ron. As she thought it was best to not divulge who exactly it was. Ron held on to a lot of grudges, and could be intense about them at times. He didn’t understand why she had to come home late, every time. Today she had promised him that she would be home in time for dinner.

“So. House Elves.” Draco mused.

“Yes, what else?" Hermione returned a light smile. "But, erm... I was curious. We know what's been happening within our generation, but I was wondering if you could tell me more about your family? I mean, the Malfoy house's history with the earlier generations of house elf enslavement...”

“I don’t know too much about my own family's history with it. I guess the majority of things I knew were from…” His voice trailed off. Hermione paused her writing to look up at Draco.

“From?” She pressed gently.

“Oh. You remember him...Dobby?” He mindlessly stirred his tea, which had been cold for a while.

“Oh.” Hermione set down her quill.

“He didn’t...he didn’t make it did he?” Draco looked up at Hermione, with a pain in his eyes he was clearly trying to hide.

“Oh. No, I— he didn’t. I’m Sorry.” Draco nodded and lowered his eyes again, wringing his hands gently. Hermione reached across the table to pat them, which startled him.

“It's alright." He slipped his hands back to his tea. "I figured he hadn’t, on our end it didn’t look good.”

“You wanted to be able to make amends with him, didn’t you?” She asked delicately. He nodded. “Well... if you’d like, I can take you to where he was buried.” Draco stopped stirring his tea and scanned her face.

They walked together silently outside into the front garden. Draco waited for Hermione to be a few steps ahead of him so he could quickly pick a few flowers as he walked along. He caught up to her and took her arm. The pair vanished and reappeared at the seaside. Hermione didn’t know how much they could trust Draco, but she felt he had a right to say his goodbyes. Shell Cottage still stood above in the distance but Draco didn’t seem to pay it any mind anyway. He walked across the dunes of sand and stood above the rock that read:

Though the ocean air, wind and sand had withered the stone a bit over the years, it was still legible. Hermione gave him some space, watching him from behind. He gently crouched down and set the flowers onto the gravesite. The wind was picking up causing Hermione to shiver. Ministry business suits were not very practical for a beachside funeral. Draco spent a few more moments down close to the grave before standing up, Hermione did her best not to overhear any private words.

“Goodbye, old friend” Draco whispered before backing up and turning around to Hermione. He noticed the color of her lips was nearly gone. “Here.” He took off his coat and handed it to her.

“Oh, no that’s alright—”

“Please. You did me this favor, it’s the least I can do” He wrapped the coat around her. Though he often acted in a cold and stiff manner, his coat was actually quite warm, Hermione thought, immediately feeling relieved of the wind. He approached her and took her arm and together they apparated back to Draco’s Cottage. They awkwardly shifted apart from each other. Draco began walking back up to the house with his hands in his pockets.

“Actually—wait, I should probably be taking off.” Hermione picked his coat off of her shoulders and held it out to him. “I have to start dinner before Ron gets home from the shop. Thank you for the coat.” Draco walked back up to her and took it gently from her and tucked it under his arm.

“Of course.” He said. “You know, Dobby was a friend of mine for many years of my life. Most of my childhood in fact. All those years, even though I mistreated him, he still showed me kindness. Thank you for giving me a goodbye. And thank you...for giving me a chance, even though I mistreated you. And for being my friend now.”

“Oh—Of course.” She stuttered. This was a professional relationship, Hermione told herself. Handshakes are most appropriate. She held out her hand, and he shook it promptly and then began to back away. He lifted up his hand silently and she waved back to him before apparating home. The next meeting would be their last interview together, and Hermione felt content that it would finally be time to make a move on Astoria, but felt strangely sorry she would no longer need to meet with Draco.

At their last interview, once Draco had spilled out the last of every detail he knew, Hermione shut her notebooks and turned back on her Ministry manners.

“Thank you again for your cooperation. I’m sure that I will be calling upon you again once my task force goes into action. If everything you’ve told me is true that is.” Hermione shot him a meaningful look.

“I do not blame you for distrusting me. All I want to do now is help.” Draco held her gaze, but his eyes gave away nothing. She wished at this moment she could read his thoughts. The last few weeks she had observed him carefully. He did truly seem to be a different person, a person she didn’t actually mind spending time with. Just then the phone rang, startling them both. Hermione stared puzzled for a moment.

“You, you have a muggle phone?” She was very surprised, considering how much the Malfoys used to distance themselves from muggle life.

“My mother is not well enough to travel, an owl takes too long—it’s just easiest. Don’t tell her you know though.”

“We have one as well for my parents. We even instated one at the Ministry for quick messages.” The phone continued to ring. “Aren’t you going to get it?”

“Right, yes.” Draco ran to pick it up.

“Hello? Hi, Mother. Yes—I— uh-huh...” he lowered his voice as he went along with his conversation. Eventually he walked outside into the garden for some privacy, presumably.

Hermione took this opportunity to take a look around. The living and kitchen space were filled with all his various “projects'' so she dared not lift anything up but rather she just gently bent herself around tables and boxes seeing what all was visible. Down a hallway were two small rooms and a bathroom. Scorpius’ room was obvious—it had a much smaller bed and a Slytherin scarf tied around the bedpost. His Hogwarts letter sat on a tiny desk in the corner along with a few other letters. She gently shuffled them around to see if any of them were from his mother but they all appeared to be from classmates. Hermione turned next to Draco’s room but found it difficult to move past the shut door. Invading his privacy seemed so much harder now that she had spoken to him. But for the sake of the investigation, she told herself, it would be justifiable.

She heard the front door creak open so she rushed into the bathroom and ran the faucet. “I hope it’s alright, I had to use your facilities—” Hermione said as she entered the living space, pretending to straighten herself up. She was startled to find a young boy standing in the kitchen.

“Who are you?” Scorpius asked “What are you doing in here?”

“Oh, um, hello. My name is Mrs. Granger-Weasley, I am from the Ministry of Magic, your father is helping me with some important business.” Scorpius looked at her suspiciously.

“Right. Well, just don’t touch anything.” He set down a bag he had lopped over his shoulder.

“Hang on, aren’t you supposed to be in school?” She inquired.

“It’s Holiday Break.”

“Holiday break? Already. Oh! Did you just get off the train? How long ago?"

"I have a special escort straight from Hogwarts grounds. Don't know if the trains made it to King's Cross."

"Oh, well it was very nice to meet you, Scorpius. Right. I really must be going. Tell your father I will be in touch.” Hermione quickly strutted outside and looked around for Draco but he must’ve gone around the back. She didn’t have time to search for him though, her children would already be waiting at the station. Just before she apparated she saw Draco walk out from the backyard, still on the phone, startled to see her leaving. But realizing she must be in a hurry, he raised up his hand as if to say goodbye and didn’t try and stop her.

Hermione apparated just outside of the Burrow, she had been too late at the station—someone else must’ve picked up Rose. Ron opened the front door.

“Where have you been?” He demanded.

“Did you get the kids?” Hermione peered around the living room.

“No, I did not get the kids. Ginny picked them up, they’re over there playing with the cousins. You never lose track of things like this! It's Rose's first year we should’ve been there to pick her up!”

“I’m so sorry I was conducting an interview and —”

“You should’ve told me then! I would’ve gone! It's important to Rose. Plus, It’s embarrassing! Makes us look like we can’t keep track of our own kids...” Ron muttered.

“Embarrassing? It's really not that uncommon for two working parents to have someone else pick up their children. And I must’ve told you a thousand times that any important venture is on the calendar—and at the start of term I’ve told you the dates for everything! My job requires—”

“Yeah your job requires a lot of you doesn’t it. Don’t even come home half the time—” He muttered.

“When you were working as an auror we had similar schedules—you know what it’s like! But now that you work in the shop, I’m sorry I can’t be on the same timeline as you, I just can’t!”

“Being an auror—that’s Harry’s thing it was never mine” He huffed. Clearly the insecurity he’s had about not being cut out for the line of work still struck a nerve, she thought.

“I know, Ron. But you have to be realistic. I can’t always be here when you are.” She explained.

“Maybe you should find a different job then.”

“A different—you must be joking…”

“Well, family should be your priority I think.” Ron crossed his arms and turned away from her.

“This family is my priority! I work and I make money—and I set an example for our children to follow their passions and —”

“And you’re never here!” He shouted.

“I am here! Right now I have a very large workload, but it’s not always like this. In fact I have not personally been the head of a case in quite some time!”

“I think it’s about time you settled into something more comfortable for everyone.” Ron concluded.

“I cannot just drop down to a lower-level job now, I love what I do, and I’ve worked so hard to get where I am— and I have plans, you know, perhaps to transition into professorship after I’m done working for the Ministry, which will be more laid-back perhaps but really Ron, I don’t ever plan to stop living my life the way I enjoy to...”

“Why do you always have to make things so complicated? After everything we've been through? Why can’t you be fine with going through the motions like the rest of us? Set up a nice, easy life and live it...” He threw his hands in the air.

“Just going through the motions? What sort of life is that?” Hermione plopped down on the couch.

“It’s just how life is!” Ron asserted.

“It doesn’t have to be—things can change!”

“Things don’t change, people don’t change.”

“Sure they do! Just look at Draco!” Hermione realized her mistake as the words left her lips. Before she could find the words to backtrack, Ron’s face shifted to confusion.

“Draco? Draco Malfoy? What the bloody hell are you on about? I bet that snobby brat is still locked up in that mansion his family plotting our demise. I’ve already warned our kids about his son. They’re a bad bunch.”

“That’s not true! Anyone can change. And it just so happens that Draco has changed.”

“What?”

“I um, ran into him during my investigation, he’s helping me find a lead—”

“Are you mental? You’re trusting him? You’ve lost it. Have you forgotten where his allegiances lie? Have you forgotten the countless times he bullied you?” Hermione stood back up.

“He has since apologized for his behavior, and if I remember correctly you mistreated me back in those days as well...” She crossed her arms.

“Oh come off that, there’s no comparison.” This wasn't completely untrue, she thought. He waved her away and walked into the kitchen. She followed Ron and stood right in front of his face.

“At least he’s had the decency to own up to his bad behavior and then make a change to his life so he wouldn’t hurt someone again. Can you say the same?”

“I’ve apologized to you plenty of times!” He objected.

“Exactly! You wouldn’t have to keep apologizing if you just tried a little harder to consider other people’s feelings—I mean just the other day you were as jealous as ever when I went out with your sister! When does it end?” She asked meaningfully.

“That’s just who I am, Hermione.” Ron said quietly, shrugging.

“You don’t have to be that way, it's not healthy...” She whispered.

There was a knock at the door, Hermione gave a look to Ron as if to say this conversation wasn’t over. She walked over expecting the kids to be there, but it was Scorpius who stood on their front porch.

“Oh, hello, Scorpius?” She looked over at Ron who stood up. “What—what brings you here?”

“Mrs. Granger-Weasley? It’s my father, something terrible has happened to him but I didn’t want to call my Grandmother because she won’t know what to do and I don’t know how to reach my mom anymore and and I saw your name and address sitting on the table so I just—you’re from the Ministry so I thought you could help...” Scorpius stuttered, clearly shaken. He had tears forming in his eyes.

“Oh, gosh, dear of course. What happened?” Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I think he’s been cursed.”

“By one of his projects?” Hermione breathed.

“Maybe, I’m not sure. He won’t wake up anymore, I tried everything I could think of...”

Hermione grabbed the phone and began dialing. “I can send a team there right away...” Scorpius’ eyes widened in fear.

“No! No one is supposed to know where we live!” He ran up to Hermione and tugged on her sleeves.

“Scorpius, your father could be very sick or injured, please—let me send help—”

“No! You can’t! I promised father!” Scorpius tried to swat the phone out of her hands, growing more hysteric by the second. “Bad people might come and hurt us!”

“Sounds like they already have...” muttered Ron. Hermione threw him an incredulous look.

“Alright, how about I go and assess your father and then I’ll see what we should do next, okay? Maybe we can take him to a doctor.” Hermione hung up the phone.

Ron half-chuckled. “You? You can’t be serious! Hermione that's ridiculous just send someone over!”

“Things might be more complicated than they seem, Ron. He’s been risking a lot helping me.” She shot him another look before lowering her voice to say, “We’ll talk more later.”

Hermione followed Scorpius outside, he tightly held her hand.

“Alright, now. Have you ever apparated before, with your father?”

“Yes.” Scorpius said meekly.

“Don’t be frightened. Just stay very still and hold on to me. I’ll count to three, shall I?” Scorpius nodded. “One—” Hermione and Scorpius vanished before she got to three.

Ron had grumpily watched through the window. Hermione was always leaving him, to talk to other men, no less, he thought. Surely someone better than him will whisk Hermione away. Little did he know that in always being so insecure, he was the one driving her away. He hastily dug through her files left behind on the coffee table. He found Draco’s forms and with it —his address. He would ensure Draco wasn’t up to no-good.

When Ron arrived in front of Draco’s Cottage he scoffed at the downgrade. “Big mansion living to this, he really must’ve messed up.” Ron jogged up to the front door and banged loudly with his fist “Oi! Hermione! Let me in!”

Scorpius hesitantly opened the door. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Ron scoffed again. “Memory foggy is it? You just apparated off with my wife—”

Scorpius looked puzzled. “I’m sorry, I—I don’t know you—” he tried to shut the door but Ron jabbed his foot in the doorway.

“Listen, mate. I just need to—check in on my wife, the nice Ministry lady remember?” Ron began to push the door open.

“Father! I’m sorry, someone is trying to come in!” Scorpius backed away towards his wand on the table.

Ron was surprised to see Draco on his feet already as he strode in from the backyard.

“What’s going on here?” Draco demanded, looking between a frightened Scorpius and an unwelcome Weasley.

“Listen, I don’t want any trouble. Just here to check on my wife. Heard she was coming over to help you—and clearly you’re better so I’m just trying to leave with her now…”

“Did you say the Ministry lady? She left ages ago...” Scorpius said.

“Oh come off it, I just saw you two apparate from my front yard! Lying that she needs to come cure a certain someone . No doubt in an attempt to trap her here!” He whipped out his wand and pointed at Draco.

“Cure who?” Draco asked.

“You, you idiot!” Ron was getting very frustrated. “Where is she? Hermione! If you’ve done anything to hurt her I swear!” He rushed towards Draco, getting in his face. Draco remained calm, but serious.

“Did you say I apparated with her?” Scorpius repeated, but before Ron could start shouting again Draco shook his head.

“No, no… Scorpius doesn’t leave the cottage alone. And he’s been here with me since Hermione left.”

Ron’s face reddened. “You’re lying! I saw the little--” Ron gestured at Scorpius. “Do you think I’m blind? I saw it through the window!”

Draco held up his hands in an attempt to bring a moment of peace so he could think. “This isn’t good. Something must be wrong...” Draco’s face flashed with worry before becoming stern again. “What did the Scorpius you saw say?”

“I dunno, that you were cursed from a project or something and she was the only one who could help...” Ron mumbled angrily.

“There’s only a select few people who know about my line of work, and that Hermione and I have been in contact...” Ron grimaced at the word “contact”.

“So what’s happened then? Where is she?!” Ron grabbed the front of Draco’s shirt, angry tears forming in his eyes. Draco carefully removed Ron’s hands from his clothes and calmly began digging around his things, gathering supplies. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Draco didn’t respond, but Ron lowered his wand. His gut feeling was that if Hermione trusted Draco, he probably wasn’t lying.

“We’ll have to go save her.” Draco said calmly. “Scorpius, stay here. Stay safe.” Scorpius nodded, lifting his wand to cast enchantments. Draco silently strode out the front door without even pausing to see if Ron would follow.

“Save her from who?!” Ron asked, jogging after Draco.

Chapter Text

Hermione and Scorpius were still holding hands when they arrived at their destination. She didn’t understand what had happened—why had they jumped ahead so suddenly? She had not had her mind set on her destination clearly enough yet—she... she wasn’t the one who took them here, she realized. She looked down at Scorpius who tugged his hand away from hers. Where were they? It was dark.

“It’s about time...” Narcissa griped, leaning against the nearby doorway.

“Her house was protected by a lot of magic, it wasn’t as easy getting to the front door as I had planned.” Scorpius said, sounding a lot more mature and calm than he had before, untying his school tie and removing it with his jacket. They were at Malfoy Manor, Hermione realized.

“Why did you bring us here?” Hermione desperately asked Scorpius. “How did you—” Hermione felt in her pocket for her wand.

“Expelliarmus!” Narcissa whipped out the wand from the end of her cane and allowed herself to balance against a mantelpiece. “Don’t even try it.” Hermione’s wand flew across the room.

Scorpius began to groan as he put his head in his hands and bent over.

“Scorpius?” Hermione whispered, placing her hand on his hunched back. Scorpius shoved her away as his form began to change— he grew several inches, his limbs branching out and his face morphing into its true owners. And then before she knew it, Hermione was face-to-face with Astoria Malfoy.

“No--” Hermione breathed. Her impulse was to run but Narcissa hadn’t broken her severe eye contact, wand still pointed dead at Hermione.

Astoria loosened the tucked-in button-up so that her real body could adjust in the clothes she had stolen. The pants had ripped on the sides in the process of her change.

“Did you lay out the clothes I asked you to?” Astoria ignored Hermione altogether, Narcissa nodded over to a nearby couch. Astoria snatched up the clothes, hissing at the dust that had laid on them. “Did you send the package I requested?” Narcissa nodded curtly. Astoria briskly walked off into the other room.

“Why have you done this?” Hermione whispered to Narcissa once Astoria was gone.

“How did you escape before?” Narcissa angrily asked, ignoring Hermione.

“Your son, Narcissa. Draco came in here and set me free—”

“Draco doesn’t understand why you were being held here, had he known he wouldn’t have done that.” Narcissa shook her head.

“Your son and I have been in close contact over the last few weeks. We—we are on good terms now.” She hesitated to use ‘friend’, as that may not be as believable. “He is helping me, he’s not in trouble...” Hermione lowered her voice even further, taking a step forward with her hands up. “Please—don’t do this. I have a family.”

“We all have families to consider.” Narcissa said coolly. Astoria returned to the room in a very sleek suit. The only other time Hermione had seen her in person was at King’s Cross at the start of Rose’s first term. She had seemed cold, refined and regal. Today was no different, except perhaps that she seemed to have slightly less patience.

“Sit down before you embarrass yourself, Narcissa.” Astoria took out her own wand and pointed it at Hermione. Narcissa looked slightly offended but graciously took the chance to take the weight off her feet. She slowly sat down on the dusty armchair beside the fireplace.

“Has she said anything yet?” Astoria looked over Hermione as though she were a potted plant rather than a person.

“Yes. She said she’s been working with Draco” Narcissa reported, glancing back at Hermione.

“Yes, I already knew that. That isn’t helpful. Keep your wand on her.” Astoria walked to the fireplace in a huff. She threw in some floo powder angrily and the flames rose up quickly. Narcissa looked up at Astoria, her mouth agape.

“She’s telling the truth then?” Narcissa half-whispered. She shot Astoria a severe look. “You seem to be under the impression that I am a fool. Why would Draco be working with her?” Astoria ignored this and stuck her head into the flames. Narcissa’s eyes rapidly went back and forth between Hermione and Astoria. “I refuse—” Narcissa used all her strength to stand back up and lean against the mantle, her wand shakily still fixed in Hermione’s direction. “To be made a fool of. Why is she working with my son?” Astoria was still communicating through the fire. “I will not be ignored, Astoria!”

Hermione shut her eyes and sighed. “We are working together, to stop Astoria’s House Elf slavery operation.” She looked over to her wand and slowly began inching towards it.

“What is this nonsense? We don’t take part in that anymore.” Narcissa grabbed Astoria’s fine jacket and pulled her out of the fireplace, almost knocking herself over in the process. “Astoria! Ever since the war I have done everything I could to ensure my family stays out of trouble! You told me that she was persecuting Draco.”

“Enough!” Astoria knocked Narcissa over, sending her swiftly to the ground. Narcissa whimpered in pain.

“That is enough.” Hermione had her wand pointed at Astoria. “Step away from her.” Astoria rolled her eyes and took a dainty step away from Narcissa. A large thud from upstairs was enough of a distraction to allow Astoria to leap backwards into the flames, disappearing in an instant. “Urgh!” Hermione growled. She regained herself from her frustration and rushed over to Narcissa who was still softly groaning on the floor. She heard footsteps from the stairs so she stood up defensively, wand pointed at the intruders. She was shocked to see Draco and Ron quickly descending towards her.

Draco got to them first, and stood there for a moment holding Hermione’s eye contact before moving past her and dropping down to his mother. Ron slowly approached and hugged Hermione.

“Did you do that?” Ron muttered, quietly gesturing towards the fallen Narcissa.

“Of course not.” She turned back towards Draco. “Draco, I’m so sorry. It was Astoria, she’s gone through the Floo Network. I’m not sure where.” Ron grasped her arm tightly.

“Let’s get out of here...” Ron whispered. “They can’t be trusted, let’s go.” Hermione wriggled free from his grasp. Ron tried to pull her arm back but she glared at him until he released her.

“Ron, I have to see this through. It’s too dangerous for us both to be here—once you’re off the property you can apparate home. Contact the Ministry. ” She gave him a hug “Please..” she pleaded softly before kneeling down beside Draco, who was tending to his mother.

“Seriously?” Ron asked. Hermione turned back to him briefly and nodded.

“This is an official investigation, you shouldn’t get caught up in this. And— I don’t think we should both put ourselves in jeopardy—please, go to the kids...”

“Yeah, alright. I’ll go home and make sure they’re safe then.” He nodded and twiddled his fingers before walking towards the front door. Ron took one last look at Draco and Hermione lifting Narcissa to her feet. He may not be an official auror anymore, Ron thought, and he may not be cut out for apprehending criminals and investigations, but he can still be a good father. And with that he shut the door. Hermione and Draco had finally gotten her to the couch.

“She will be alright.” Hermione whispered, Draco nodded. Hermione walked over to the fireplace and traced her fingers across it. “Where would she have gone—Your cottage?” Draco looked up and she was caught off guard by his worried expression.

“No. She’s probably--” Suddenly with a crack Astoria returned right behind Hermione, grabbing her back around the throat with a wand pointed at her head.

“It’s over, Astoria.” Draco had his wand up immediately.

“I should’ve known you’d show up here. All those late night chats over tea, weekly visits to Mum, you certainly have softened, Draco.” She mused. “And by that I mean you are weak. What made you such an excellent candidate to be my partner is that you came from a family of strength. So much history, so much honor. I understood the need to raise our son differently for the sake of the public’s views of us... But I always thought deep down you realized that the resurgence is coming—this ‘new world order’ is only temporary. And until purebloods are able to rise up again, we would work in the shadows to maintain our traditions and retain our—”

“It’s over! There is no resurgence. All these families have nothing—I know about their finances, their lives! They desperately come to me to avoid raids. Your operation is over—the Ministry already knows about it. I’m sure your estate is being raided as we speak. I told them all about the shifting tunnels—”

“It’s not too late, Draco. I doubt that this...” She gently pulled Hermione’s head back “Mudblood has relayed everything you’ve told her. She probably wanted to wait to have the perfect file completed before reporting it in. Or maybe she just wanted more time with you.” Astoria smirked at him. “I just checked in with the estate and everything is still in order. We will have everything cleared out right away.” She pressed her wand into Hermione’s temple at which Draco’s face finally seemed to react. “Your father was always a coward, I hadn’t realized when I married you that you’d turn out to be one too. You run now for fear of the Ministry’s wrath, but there is no greater protection than the families involved.”

“I don’t want to hurt you... Please--” His eyes briefly shifted to Hermione’s. “This must come to an end.” The intent of those words did not go unnoticed, Astoria eased her grip and sighed.

“Scorpius should have his mother. We can move back in here, if you’d like— take care of your ailing mother—”

“You’ve hurt my mother, Astoria. Let her go now and I will see no harm comes to you.” Astoria sighed.

“What a shame...” Astoria teased as she apparated with Hermione.

“No!” Draco lunged towards them. He apparated behind them, knowing they would go back to her parent’s estate. When he arrived Hermione was unconscious on the floor. He dove down to see if she was breathing. From above Astoria cried “Crucio!”, Draco whipped around expecting to be hit but then he heard Hermione cry out. She had become conscious again and was screaming and writhing, bleeding from a splinch in her side.

“I warned you!” Draco quickly shot up—but before he could shoot a curse her way, a deafening crack shook the room as many people apparated in all at once. Among them Harry Potter stepped forward.

"Expelliarmus!" Astoria’s wand flew across the room as the color drained from her face. “Arrest her.” Harry commanded his team, nodding towards Astoria, who was too late to apparate away. “Spread out, they’re surrounded on the outside, don’t give them even a second to escape from here.” He commanded, and his team immediately followed orders. “Hermione...” he said, dropping down to her, brushing her cheek. “See that she’s taken care of.” He nodded towards one of his aurors who knelt down and apparated away with her. Harry walked over to Draco Malfoy for the first time in many years. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Malfoy. It has been noted how much you have assisted in this investigation.” Harry nodded and held out his hand, which Draco shook in a daze. “Do you have any injuries you need to be seen for?”

“No—but my mother, she’s back at the manor...” Harry gestured towards another auror to leave. “Wait, you can’t apparate in without a Malfoy. I’ll take you. But my son, I left him in a hurry back at our house...”

“Ah, Ron relayed the details to us. Scorpius is already under protective detail. You’ll be reunited right away.” Draco let out a sigh of relief.

“And—” Draco looked back to where Hermione just was.

“She’ll be taken to a secure place for treatment until all arrests have been made.” Draco nodded stiffly and then together with an official apparated to reunite with his family.

Chapter Text

Hermione had several dreams while she was unconscious. She dreamt of never-ending tunnels and weeds taking over gardens. She dreamt of the night Ron came home from his Dragon expedition. “Their eggs were—blimey, I don’t know, maybe this big! Charlie reckons their shells might have some sort of medicinal properties. I just couldn’t believe how…” his dream-voice trailed off as Hermione stood up from the couch to go into the kitchen when suddenly letters from Viktor Krum floated in through the mail slot. They began floating faster and faster, circling her and slicing her skin. She shrieked and tried to run when suddenly they became howlers, but it was Ron’s voice that was pouring out at her from them. “Just friends! Ha! I read your letters” “You can’t be serious Hermione” “How can I trust you again” “This late?” “That’s just how life is!” The voices circled her all at once, she desperately covered her ears and sunk to the ground to escape. All at once the screaming stopped, so she uncovered her face and slowly stood back up. Hermione found herself in Scorpius’ Meadow. The plants had all withered and fallen at her muddy feet. She looked around and finally saw Draco in the distance overlooking the cliffside. She called out for him but he didn’t turn around. She tried to walk towards him but her feet were stuck in the mud. He finally turned around and looked at her. She smiled in relief, but then Draco lifted up his hand as if to say goodbye before stepping off the edge. “No!”

Hermione shot up, sweating.

“It’s okay, Hermione. Everything’s alright.” Harry said, patting her shoulders. “You’re safe here.”

“What's going on? Where—-what happened?” She looked around wildly.

“Try and relax, lay back down. I’ll catch you up to speed...” He gently helped her lay her head back down. “It just so happened that my investigation sort of overlapped with yours, luckily we were able to intercede at the right moment. Not very surprising that some wanted Death Eaters would be a part of House Elf trafficking is it?” Hermione shook her head in a daze before continuing to stare a hole through Harry, signaling her desperation for more information. “Astoria is awaiting trial in prison, and all the House Elves hidden amongst the dungeons of the Greengrass Estate have been freed. Those tunnels were an incredible find, we wouldn’t have been able to detect them without your report. All of the families involved are being investigated as well, their houses raided, more slaves freed.”

“Oh. Well—I’m...” Hermione shut her eyes and smiled. “That’s amazing. The practice should be few and far between now...”

“Agreed. How are you feeling?”

Hermione sighed, reopening her eyes. “I’m fine. Now that all this is basically over I might actually be able to catch up on some sleep, which will help tremendously. I was at my wits end, honestly.”

“You slept for about three days actually.” Hermione stiffened, startled by this. “We treated you the best we could without hearing from you if anything else hurts—physically, you’re doing alright?”

Hermione nodded gently. “The physical part is still easier to overcome. I expect the next few months will give me quite a few nightmares...” Harry looked concerned and patted her hand. “But that’s what a good book is for.” She shifted herself back up. “And the rest of the Malfoys?”

“Narcissa had a fracture in her hip and some bruises but she recovered quickly. From what I hear a few other aurors had to be sent out to help because she kept whipping their knees with her cane.” Harry raised his eyebrows and Hermione laughed lightly.

“That doesn’t surprise me in the least.” She said quietly.

“But listen, Hermione. Draco has been tampering with Dark Objects lately hasn’t he?”

“Oh. Yes, well from what I understand he works on reversing enchantments, lifting curses...”

“Right. Well when we went over to his cottage for a follow-up, it would appear something in one of his works went awry. He hasn’t been conscious for a few days now. We sent over a few of our specialists, but they haven’t seen anything quite like it. There are a lot of different level objects spread throughout the house, and it will take a very long time to sort them out safely, much less find which one it was. Our main experts are abroad studying a new potential antidote and we haven’t been able to reach them. Honestly, I don’t know what will happen next.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. They sat there in silence for a moment.

“Would you like to go see him?” Harry wiped a tear which had trickled down Hermione’s face without her even realizing.

“What about Scorpius?”

“Luckily, the curse doesn’t spread through contact. He’s with Narcissa for now, they’re all back at Malfoy Manor. She insisted Draco be left under her care unless there is an update on treatment options.”

Hermione nodded. “I would like to visit with them all actually. Um, but first my own family. How’s Ron? The kids?”

“All excellent. Worried, of course. But Ginny and George have been keeping their spirits up. We’ve all been staying over, getting ready for Christmas. Bill and Fleur might be flying in... This will all pass soon.” He stroked her cheek and squeezed her hand.

Hermione smiled. “I’d like to go home now please.” Harry nodded and helped her out of the hospital bed.

At home she found Ron trying very hard to teach the kids some of the holiday and winter crafts his mother had taught him. It was more effort than she usually witnessed. People can change, she thought, smiling sweetly at the scene. The chaos of all the children running around was a bit too much for her, so after reuniting with everyone for a few days she decided to visit the much quieter Malfoys. Ron had originally objected, but when she explained about Draco’s state he worried a little less.

It was Scorpius who answered the Manor door.

“Oh. Hello. If you’re coming in just make sure you don’t touch anything.” She realized he probably told all visitors that based on what he knew of his father's work. She flinched at the thought of cursed Draco residing somewhere in the manor. He led her into the living room where his grandmother was lying on the couch, trying to enjoy a cup of tea.

“Who’s this now? Oh, it’s you.” She looked briefly at Hermione with a softer expression than she anticipated.

“Hello, Mrs. Malfoy. I just came to check on you all.” Narcissa quietly huffed. Hermione looked around the dusty parlor. “Perhaps you would allow me to help you spruce up the place a bit, since Scorpius has moved in for the time being?”

“Hm. Well it’s not like I can do anything.” She glanced around her once beautiful lounge. “Very well. I will permit it. But don’t go changing everything now. A spruce up is not a renovation!” Hermione smirked and asked Scorpius if he’d like to help. He was a bit hesitant at first but eventually the pair really got into cleaning up the dust and cobwebs, repairing small tears, lighting candles. In time even Narcissa smiled at the sight of the two swaying their wands about as if it were a dance. After an hour or so it seemed like a whole new place altogether. Scorpius asked his Grandmother if she’d like another cup of tea and went to fetch her one in the newly scrubbed kitchen.

“You said before that you and my son were close?” Narcissa recalled.

“In close contact, I believe, is what I said—-” Narcissa shot her a look. “Mrs. Malfoy.” Hermione finished nervously.

“Well. I wanted to thank you for all that you did. I am...sorry, if I mistreated you. Clearly I misjudged you and your intentions. Thank you for clearing my son of any wrongdoings. He really is a good boy.” Hermione smiled. “Would you like to see him?”

“Oh, I— Yes, I suppose I should.”

“He’s in his old room—the one that I… let you stay in before.” Hermione stifled a laugh.

“Right. I’ll pay him a visit then, it’s the least I can do.” Hermione quietly got up and slowly mounted the stairs. She found herself almost shaking—she wasn’t sure if she was afraid of seeing him so still, or if she felt guilty, but either way she felt very uneasy. She thought of dream Draco falling off of the cliffside. She had reached his door, which had presumably been shut for his privacy. She slowly turned the doorknob and entered. She was surprised to find that his mother had actually dusted this room and cleaned it up for its guest. And there he was—on his old bed, tucked in as though he were sleeping. What a horrible image for a mother and son, she thought. It was even hard for her to see, and she was only a friend. She thought of how terrible it must have been for Ron and Harry when she was petrified. She walked up alongside him, keeping a respectful distance.

“Draco...” She whispered, half expecting him to respond. His skin looked cold and icy, she brushed against his hand and sure enough it was like he was frozen. She did not know how long he could survive this way—she knew nothing about the curse, was it the kind that would progress? His eyes were open, and their normal piercing brilliance was much more foggy now. The color had been drained from his cheeks and his lips were pale. She took in more of his face than she had been able to before without him noticing. He had wrinkles beginning to form as crows feet around his eyes. She had not really noticed before, probably because he hadn’t smiled much. “I’m sorry. For endangering your life. For everything that happened to your family because of my investigation. Thank you—so much for all of your help. I only hope that there is some way I can help bring you back.” She thought about this more before squeezing his hand. “I am going to bring you back.” She rushed back down the stairs and asked Scorpius if he remembered which object his father had been working on.

“He wasn’t working on anything that I knew about. He was focused on helping you. When he came home he packed up my things and told me I would be going to Grandmothers, that it was safer there and she needed me… He did get a new package on the stoop though.”

Narcissa perked up when she heard this. “Package? Oh, oh!” She grabbed Hermione’s arm and dragged her down to her level on the couch, lowering her voice. “It was me. I sent an owl with a package on Astoria’s behalf. I didn’t realize that was Draco’s address— It must’ve had some sort of cursed object in it.” She looked horrified.

“But why would Draco open it up if it was from Astoria... after what happened?”

“He gets deliveries all the time from people who ask him for help, though I think they drop them off at Borgin and Burkes, and someone there knows our address, so it's kept a secret.” Scorpius explained, who was clearly able to hear every word. “Usually they have the projects in them and then once he fixes the items he ships them back to the shop. I don’t know why he would open it now though, we were headed out in a hurry...” Scorpius could no longer make eye contact, so he pretended to be dusting the coffee table. “I found him near the phone, on the floor…” I won’t give up, Hermione thought, her heart going out to him as a mother.

“I’ll go have a look, see if I can find which object it was. Maybe if we can figure that out the specialists will be able to identify the curse.” Narcissa held tightly onto her tea, which now had tears dripping into it and Scorpius meekly nodded. And with that Hermione rushed out the door and apparated once she reached the front gate.

The cottage felt so empty without Draco there at the kitchen table. Even in the garden it seemed like the flowers had lost their luster and had started to wilt without Scorpius. Luckily there was no mud, she thought. She carefully sifted around boxes using her wand. But everything seemed to be as she remembered it the last time she snooped around. Nothing new, nothing shifted. When she finally reached Draco’s room she saw a very small cardboard box lying on the floor next to his bed. It would be very easy to overlook, especially if he had been found in the other room, perhaps they had not seen it. She approached it cautiously. The contents appeared to be missing. But as she knelt down further, she noticed something glowing underneath his bed. She dare not touch directly, but could see that it was a memory vial. “Lumos” revealed a small note lying beside it, which read:

Astoria knew he wouldn’t open a box from her, so she had to use a more devious ploy. “He thought it was from me...how horrible.” During their long interviews, Draco had mentioned that Astoria felt his memory-saving was a waste of time. Astoria knew in sending a pensieve vial in particular he would not suspect it was from her. Hermione sighed. She would notify the cursed object sector to see if they would look it over. It had turned him almost to ice. Perhaps heating him up would thaw him out? She knew that wasn’t how curses worked. It kept him cool in dark, magical ways that she did not fully understand. She scanned around the room realizing it was her first true time being inside it. She noticed his closet was ajar. She gently pushed herself off the bed and opened it up, only to be met by a second set of similar doors. “Oh. It’s a cabinet...Alohomora...” she whispered and, as it creaked open, she realized that this was the same cabinet that had been hidden inside the Manor. She took a step back as once again it slowly began to open into the pensieve pool and shelves. All of the memories she had accidentally poured into the pensieve seemed to be still swirling around in there. There were a few new vials sitting on the shelf above so she decided to go ahead and add them in. Perhaps past Draco could answer her questions about curses. She took a deep breath and then dove into his memories once more.

Chapter Text

Just as before, so many vials being placed in at once created jolts through the memories, some years even blending together. It was difficult for Hermione to make out what was real anymore.

She was standing in Malfoy Manor in what would’ve been their 7th year at Hogwarts, but they were on the run—it was war.

Harry’s younger face was hexed beyond recognition, thanks to Hermione’s quick thinking. Lucius was pressing younger Draco to identify whether this was truly him, and the trio knew Draco could easily tell it was Harry. Before he answered, he stared across their faces, stopping at Hermione’s. He shook his head and claimed he couldn’t be sure.

A jolt forward— Hermione was being tortured by Draco’s Aunt Bellatrix on the floor, he couldn’t bear to watch and had to excuse himself. Current day Hermione couldn't bear to watch either. The memory faded in and out between Hermione’s tortured face and Draco’s. The scene emerged to their 6th year—Draco Malfoy was writhing on the bathroom floor—haven been sliced by Harry’s Sectumsempra, blood pooling around him. She saw herself, and then Draco, then herself again in the Manor. Bellatrix threw a knife at Hermione and it went right through Dobby, who vanished with the rest of them. Draco stood speechless, pain across his face. And then the memory shifted again. Adult Draco knelt by Dobby’s grave. A tear trickled down his cheek. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered as his lip quivered.

Then it warped again. She saw Draco spying on her younger self through the years, catching young Hermione crying in quiet corners of the library, in the abandoned bathroom they both frequented, in corridors she thought were empty. Her face would fade into his—he was crying alone in bathrooms, in his dorm, in his bedroom at home.

Another jolt forward. Draco was reading over the newspaper at the breakfast table with his wife Astoria eyeing him suspiciously.

“Anything interesting?” Astoria asked.

“No.” Draco replied dully. But Hermione could see plain as day he had been looking at an article—the one reporting on legislation she had passed years ago. He had been looking at her smiling photo, shaking hands with another official.

Another skip. Draco was caught off-guard, frozen where he stood in Diagon Alley. He watched Hermione arrive with her children, and even in her flustered state he stared at her breathlessly. Scorpius began to tug on his sleeve.

Another fade. They were having tea during a more informal part of the interviews. Hermione was laughing, her cheeks turning pink. “Yes, elf passages are just as damp as you’d think they’d be.” Draco smiled in return. She cleared her throat. “So, do they shift similarly to the staircases at Hogwarts? Or is it more like the Room of Requirement where the doors appear when they are summoned to?”

“Well the passageways inside the houses are more established physically and immobile. The doors are ancient and have mostly been unused except by very old family lines. The masters... “ Hermione shot him a look. “Er- the members of the household, decide when the doors were allowed to be opened by their elves via enchanted keys, though clearly...” He smirked at her. “the protection has weakened over time...” Hermione blushed once again at the thought of him imagining her using Dobby’s path. “The tunnels on the other hand are slightly different. They’re further underground and lead to a series of dungeons.” Hermione winced as she was horrified, but unsurprised, by this. “As you know house elves are able to bypass wizard enchantments, so as they enter one tunnel, they are able to reappear in another at a different estate, regardless if the place is spelled to keep outsiders out.”

“Yes, house elf magic is quite different from wizard’s magic..not much is known about it.” She muttered as she began scribbling more seriously. “It's very difficult to trace...But the tunnels are able to shift as well?” Draco nodded.

“As you mentioned before, the staircases at Hogwarts...they would lead to different places on different days...and the steps would sometimes vanish. In a similar way the tunnels’ locations are changing, and only the House Elves are able to keep track, though I am unsure how...”

Another fade.

“That's what makes cursed objects so fascinating. They are more than just objects—the curses, the dark magic that holds them are a part of the person who cursed them, and will become part of their victims. It becomes more like a living thing than an inanimate one. The spell-caster will put so much of themselves into it—their negative feelings and their dark thoughts... It's more than just a simple spell, that's what makes them so treacherous. They hold so much emotion... which as you know can be just as powerful as any spell.” Draco was excitable in front of Hermione for the first time, so passionate. He lit up when he spoke about his work.

“And what does your wife think about all this?” Past Hermione asked. More out of her own curiosity than for investigations-sake.

“Astoria didn’t care much for any of my work. She more likely wanted me to embrace a return to the dark arts, not try and drive them from objects. That and she doesn’t quite like my own, self-reflective work...” He shifted uncomfortably remembering how much Hermione was able to see into his memories. “She thinks we should focus on keeping certain traditions, not changing them.”

“Well, I can relate to at least some of that. Ron really would prefer I got into something else. Something that demanded less of my time. Sometimes I doubt myself, wonder if i really am just being selfish…” She said quietly.

“You’re not.” He answered firmly. “Didn’t you say he went off on a trip halfway across the world? I’d say that was pretty for-himself…”

“Well, he did say their discovery led to a potential new medicinal breakthrough.”

“Really?” Draco perked up.

“Yeah, some sort of dragon egg shell. They found properties that indicate it may make for a good antidote...”

“Forgive me, but with my line of work I find that fascinating… do you know any more—”

Another series of memories, all of her laughing, smiling and sipping her tea.

She emerged out of the memories, with tears in her eyes. “That's it.” She ran over to Draco's cottage phone and dialed her own number.

Ron answered at home. “Er, hello?”

“Ron! Did you bring home any of that specimen you found with your brother?”

“Hermione, where are you? I uh yeah I believe I did. Why?”

“Bring it over to the Malfoy's Manor as quickly as possible”

She quickly hung up, ran out the Cottage’s front door and apparated back to the Manor. She barged in on the Malfoys, startling them.

“Sorry, sorry. I don't know for sure but I think I might’ve found something that may help Draco. Please let me try it.”

Narcissa propped herself up and Scorpius, who had been playing wizard chess with himself in the corner, stood up and walked over to his Grandmother.

Ron arrived only a few moments later, but it felt like an eternity for everyone else. “Here.” He handed Hermione a satchel. “What’s this about then?”

“You said this is an antidote right? What do you know about it?” Hermione gently opened it up.

“I probably shouldn’t have it to be honest, but I thought after my hard work I could have a little... only as a souvenir!” Narcissa and Scorpius looked at each other, unsure that such a person had a solution for Draco.

“What about its properties?” Hermione persisted.

“Oh, well I believe they turned it into a powder for testing. Not exactly sure how it's administered. Guess it would depend on the kind of curse or poison. You know Chinese Fireball Dragon eggs have been used for many years but I guess it’s illegal now to take any eggs. Charlie figures on the dragon reserves, once the babies have hatched the shells can be properly harvested for—”

“Ron, focus!” Hermione interrupted.

“All I can really say about this one though is the same that you could say for any dragon eggshell--that they get heated up to extreme temperatures to hatch and then the little buggers might flame on em on the way out. Something about that gives it some special properties, I guess.” He shrugged.

“Thank you so much, Ron!” She hugged him and rushed upstairs. Ron hesitantly followed, uncomfortable by the other two Malfoys. He found Hermione pacing back and forth beside an unconscious Draco.

“Hermione. Maybe we should wait until an expert…”

“There isn’t time! What if it gets worse? The only people we could really ask are the experts who are probably out hunting for this new discovery we already have right here!” She held the bag in front of him. “We could’ve asked Draco if he was conscious. From what he showed me he was very brilliant at alchemy.” Ron wanted to disagree but instead listened to her patiently and didn’t argue. “Can’t possibly make it into a tea...his mouth is frozen shut. Could be a salve…” She continued to mutter to herself. She went downstairs and made a series of slightly different salves out of some of the powder, careful to preserve as much as she could. She tried different applications to no avail, his skin was as icy as ever.

“Mum used to use certain powders and ointments in the tub when we were ill. Maybe we could run him a hot bath? Sort of...I dunno, thaw him out? With the powder?”

Hermione looked up at Ron and then back at Draco. “It’s worth a shot.” Together they lifted Draco into the tub, fully clothed. She added some of the powder to the hot water. It created a unique smelling steam, a good sign she had hoped.

“He does seem to be thawing out some.” Ron noted, with some of the iciness receding from Draco’s skin. But Draco did not wake up. And his skin was still cold. Hermione burst into frustrated tears.

“It’s alright Hermione…” Ron reached for Hermione’s shoulder.

“No, it’s not alright! He cannot be gone. It isn’t fair! He turned his whole life around… just for it to end so quickly?” Ron didn’t know how to answer. Hermione slumped down beside the bath.

“You care about him a lot don’t you?” Ron asked quietly, but not in his usual accusatory manner.

“Yes.” Hermione whispered, staring at Draco's face. “He has been a...good friend to me lately”

Ron nodded, finally realizing that perhaps he had not been the friend, or the husband that he should’ve been. Too little, too late he realized.

“I’m gonna get home, get back to the kids. I’m...I’m really sorry Hermione.” And with that he slowly backed out of the bathroom and left. Sorry about Draco and so much more.

Hermione wiped her eyes and stroked Draco’s arm. “You were truly a friend to me.” She whispered to Draco, unable to look directly at his face any longer. “You actually listened to me. Cared about what I had to say. So many of your memories...have only made me feel more connected to you. We are alike in ways I never imagined. You probably understand me on levels that Ron never has and never will. For so long I had thought we were so different.” She rested her head against the side of the old clawfoot tub. “I found myself thinking about you a lot, you know. Ever since I saw the case file, I just had this feeling and I couldn't explain it. Perhaps we were meant to be friends long before now. I probably could have wrapped up the investigation in half the time if I were more focused. But it was just so easy to talk to you. You were never judgemental. Never severe. I probably only got to see you smile a handful of times but I think you enjoyed my company too.” She looked back at his face, his eyes still fixated straight ahead. She looked at the ceiling and sighed, trying to hold back the frog that had caught in her throat. “I was very impressed, you know, how brave you were to leave your wife when you found out she was no good. And how good you were to your son. And all of your alchemy! I never would’ve guessed you had it in you.” She smiled “Remember that brooch you showed me? That was incredible the way you were able to identify the curse by the colors it turned in sunlight—”

“It was moonlight”

“Oh thats right! But you get what I’m saying—” She jumped up suddenly, nearly slipping on the bathroom rug. “Draco!”

His eyes were their normal blue again, and his eyebrows were mockingly raised high on his forehead. “Impressed you did I?” He sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees, shivering in the tub.

Hermione blushed furiously. “How much of that did you hear?” she said, wiping away whatever tears may have remained.

He shrugged. She dove down and hugged him and then quickly pulled away and crossed her arms. “I am —happy to see you have recovered.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it. But first, would you mind getting me a towel?” She quickly grabbed one off the rack beside the tub. She helped him get up and out of the bath and began patting him down. “Scorpius?” he asked.

“He and your mother are both downstairs, in good health. They’ll be so relieved to see you. Here,” She went digging for her wand. “Let me dry you.” He shook his head and quickly made his way, still dripping and slightly limping, out into the hall and down the stairs. She waited at the top and watched the scene unfold from above. Scorpius ran to his father crying, the two embraced. Narcissa tried to make a move off the couch but Draco insisted she stay put and came to her instead. The three of them exchanged words of love and many hugs and kisses. Hermione felt like she was intruding. She smiled and quietly slipped past them out the front door.

“Wait!” Draco couldn’t exactly run yet so he walked briskly on his stiff legs. Hermione turned around. “You’ve got to tell me all about the countercurse, remember? I haven’t even thanked you properly yet...”

“Oh, yes well I figured I would come back after you’ve had some rest, I’ll send over some healers to examine you...alert everyone. Enjoy your reunion for a while, you need it.”

“But you're going to visit again? Even though... the case...” Draco looked concerned.

Hermione nodded and shrugged meekly. “If you'll have me.”

“Of course. But not at the cottage.” He gestured back towards the Manor. “I think Scorpius and I are going to move back in here.”

“That'll be good for your mother. Oh... but what about Scorpius’ Meadow?”

“He can make another one here. This old place is in need of some change.” Hermione smiled. “When will we get to speak again?” He took a step towards her, still dripping.

“Why don't you... come over to the Burrow for Christmas dinner? You’re all more than welcome.”

“Ah. We don't want to intrude...” Draco looked back at the Manor again. Hermione imagined the Malfoys hadn’t been invited to a social function in quite some time. Perhaps never to something like the sort of gathering they’d be having.

“You won't be.” She whispered. He took another step closer.

“Thank you.” He said, taking her hands into his own. “You saved me again.”

“Happy to help...” His hair was dripping onto her fingers, she gently pulled them away. “Think about Christmas. Tell your family I’ll talk to them again soon. Take care.”

Draco couldn't respond fast enough for Hermione had already apparated away. The dreary clouds above rumbled to warn of rain, he stared up at the sky for a moment before heading inside. Hermione arrived back in her front yard, one hand clutched to her chest, her heart pounding. She was unbothered by the light drizzle beginning to bounce off of her shoulders, she was instead fixated on her hand. The droplets left there were all she could think about.

Chapter Text

Within the last two weeks Hermione was so surprised how things had turned around in her family. She and Ginny were closer than ever, truly she had been blessed with a sister. Hermione and Harry had always had a strong friendship, but having jobs that overlapped so often only gave them even more to talk about. Luckily it wasn’t always all work-talk though. Narcissa Malfoy had even called to thank her properly, and Scorpius could be heard in the background with a much louder “thank you!”. Draco had written her a letter or two, but she had been too busy to respond the way she normally would.

The Burrow was so entirely full that Hermione was surprised it hadn’t collapsed in on itself. Bill and Fleur had flown in with their three children, who were happy to have the company of all the cousins, though they were probably used to nicer accommodations. Albus, Lily and James Potter were almost like her own children, though she did always have to keep an extra eye out, because when they all got together something always seemed to happen. Even Percy and Audrey showed up this year, though their children tended to keep to themselves, reading or doing crafts or helping out in the kitchen. George and Angelina’s children were perhaps the worst of the bunch, with Fred the Second taking after his namesake. Every few minutes something would be exploding or imploding. But even in all the chaos, she found peace.

It was Christmas Eve. Children were spread out everywhere in the downstairs area--shaking gifts under the tree, lifting decorations onto its branches, sneaking cookies, telling stories, practicing spells. The next level of the Burrow was filled with adult guests getting ready in their rooms, having private conversations, catching up with relatives, sharing drinks, laughter.

Over the weeks Ron had begun to change, perhaps her life being endangered snapped him into a new perspective, she thought. He hadn’t necessarily grown more tender towards her, but he took on a lot more of the housework. There was definitely an adjustment period—Ron becoming more of a stay at home dad. But she was happy. She glanced over at him, he was scolding the group of children who had nearly knocked over the Christmas pies he had worked so hard on. He looked over at her and shook his head.

“How ever did you do this all these years, Hermione? Blimey.” He turned back to his cooking. “You stay out of that cupboard you weasels! Don’t make me take off this apron!” He shook his giant wooden spoon at the blurs of children. She smiled for a while watching him. She was still trying to figure out what was best. What was right. If what he had said was what she wanted…

Five nights prior Ron had pulled her aside late in the evening.

Ron sat on the bed, and patted the space next to him. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“Oh. I’m doing pretty well actually. The nightmares aren’t as frequent as I’d thought they’d be. In fact I had a good dream last night. I’m sure all the festivities help with that. And, to be honest, your efforts have helped as well.” She smiled at him and patted his hand. “Thank you for helping out so much lately.”

“That’s great, Hermione. Really.” He smiled back at her sincerely. There was a pause.

“...And how are you doing?” She asked, trying to figure out why he had to have this conversation up here.

“Good, good. I think I’m realizing a lot about myself. I’ve always loved to eat, but now I enjoy making the food too. I miss my parents a lot. Mum had so many good ideas.” Hermione squeezed his hand lovingly. “I want our kids to grow up with all the things she gave us. I want this place to always be warm and welcoming and I want to cook them the things she would cook and make them the things she would make. I realize those things make me feel closer to her. Make me feel good. Keeps the traditions going. And Dad knew so much about the muggle world, things that can make our lives more efficient. They have so much to offer the world, I feel like it’s my responsibility to use their ideas to make our kids' lives better.”

“Wow, Ron. I think that’s amazing!” She was thoroughly impressed. “I think those are all great ideas!” Hermione beamed.

“Yeah. I was thinking about writing it all down. I’d need your help though, obviously. Not much of a writer myself. But—only in your free time of course...”

“Of course I’ll help you. That’d be fantastic. Oh, Ron. How wonderful. So many things are coming together for you.”

“Yeah, that's true. But, uh...like I said before, I have been thinking a lot lately. For many weeks actually. And I realized that I think I messed up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I spent the last twelve years messing this--” he gestured between the two of them “up.” Hermione tried to interrupt but Ron put up his hand. “Please, Hermione, let me say this. I took everything you did for granted, I’ve been jealous and controlling and unappreciative. But I want to do better. I want our kids to have a better example, I want them to admire me the way I admire my parents. I want to be a better father, and I want to move forward into a new career life. All this time I was worried you would find someone better... and instead of accepting that you had chosen me, I acted like a worse version of myself. Drove you away. Please. Do you understand?” He held Hermione’s hand tightly. Tears had begun to form in her eyes.

“I—I don’t know what to say.” She squeezed his hand back, and Ron nodded. “What—What are you trying to say?”

“I never understood why in life people had to let things go. Why should I let go of a grudge against an old enemy? Why should I give up my favorite chocolate frog cards? Why should...why should I let you go?” Ron wiped a tear from Hermione’s face. “Love. All these years we’d heard the story of how ‘love’ is the most powerful force of magic, how it saved Harry’s life, but I don’t think I ever really got it. I loved you and I always have, and I still do. But I think if I truly knew what love was—I would’ve seen how unhappy you were. Since you started that investigation, you’ve been happier than I’ve seen you in years. When I think of how my parents loved each other...”

“Ron—”

“I can see things now that I have been blind to, or too selfish to see. I wanted you for myself, for my own happiness. But now—now I want you to be happy. And I don't think, after all we’ve been through, that you can anymore. Not with me.”

“What about what I want?” she pleaded.

“You don’t want to be with me anymore, I see that now. It’s probably been that way for a long time. You’re too kind to do anything about it. Still want to give me a million more chances. Care too much about everyone else, thinking of the kids...”

“Ron—I…” Hermione was at a loss for words. She thought about everything he had said.

“I didn’t want to talk about this tonight. But, I dunno...it just felt right. I want us to be good parents to our children. And I always want to be a part of your life. But I finally understand what it means to love something and let it go. I finally understand you, I think. Do you hate me?”

“No, no… Ron, I could never hate you. I love you. I just can’t believe what I’m hearing. I will... have to think about what you said.”

“Yeah, alright. Do that. I’ve been thinking about it ever since you were unconscious. Makes sense you’d need some time too. I think everything will work out the way it's supposed to.” He leaned in and hugged his wife tightly. She hugged him back and they both began to breathe in sync, for the first time in many years.

After a few more minutes of talking and comforting, Ron was in a bittersweet mood. He thought of the good times they had together, which he had come to realize were outweighed by the bad. Ron then thought of how Hermione clung to Draco as he lay cursed in the tub, how she comforted Draco when his mother was unconscious, he thought of all the mornings she apparated away in the yard smiling as she went to meet with him. How she laughed so freely, and hummed around the house after seeing him. He gave Hermione one last smile before shutting the door.

Hermione needed a little more time before she could do any more visiting with the early guests. She walked over to the window, gently patting the moisture off her cheeks. A good majority of them were participating in an impromptu Quidditch match. Ginny was coaching the kids from the ground, George and Angelina had actually gotten onto their old brooms, it was quite the sight. She sighed deeply and sat down at her vanity. As she tucked up her hair and blotted any out of place makeup, she gave Ron’s ideas some thought. How could she separate from Ron? She had expected to spend her entire life with him. And she still could, she thought. Maybe not in the same capacity. But no matter what, the children would have to be considered. This could negatively affect them. They were mature for their age, bright. And especially if they transitioned into this new state on good terms, Rose and Hugo would probably understand. They had years and years of us fighting, Hermione thought, perhaps it would show them how good we can be as partners if we did this. She sighed. Why is he doing this? Why now? Things have been getting better between us, Hermione thought. Or at least, Ron’s life has been better, and that’s made her life easier. But, between the two of them, had things grown and changed for the better? She had been denying so long all the thoughts that came into her mind, all the doubts, all the regrets, all the unspoken grievances, she ignored them, pushed them down, justified them. But perhaps for once Ron was right, perhaps he knew her better now.

“Everything alright?” Ginny asked from across one of several dinner tables, setting down the last plate. Hermione had been deep in thought.

“Yes, I’m having a really nice time actually.” Hermione lowered her voice. “Ron has had such a better attitude lately. Just look at him. He’s independent, working harder, being more tender with the children. It’s wonderful.”

“I only ask because every few minutes you glance at the door…” Ginny smirked.

“Oh, I just had invited some other guests—-but it looks like they probably won’t make it over.” Hermione whispered.

“Mm. That’s too bad. If I wasn’t a part of this family I’m not sure I’d want to show up to all the—” Ginny was cut off due to the front door slamming open by a whirlwind of children who ran past them with what appeared to be a screeching mandrake root. “Craziness.” Ginny shook her head.

“I sort of enjoy the bustling and commotion. Visiting here when I was younger were some of the best times for me. Being an only child… could be lonely sometimes—”

“I know what you mean...” Scorpius muttered. Draco had wandered in the front door with his hands on Scorpius’ shoulders. Hermione jumped up slightly, surprised to see them. The screeching parade came through the area again, this time led by Teddy Lupin whose hair was currently a bright green. Scorpius looked up at his father, as if to ask permission to join them. Draco nodded and half-smiled as Scorpius ran off. The boy had been almost unrecognizable, Hermione had only ever seen him in his school uniform or the formal black ensembles his Grandmother preferred to see him in. Tonight Scorpius had donned a forest green jumper and red wool scarf. He had even been wearing jeans—something Draco would’ve never been caught wearing in his youth, Hermione thought. It was nice to see him without being hesitant and suspicious. Hermione folded the last napkin and then approached Draco, tucking her hair behind her ears. Draco had decided to wear something more formal than his son— a black blazer over a dark turtleneck sweater. The dark circles under his eyes from the stress of the case and the cursed vial had finally seemed to have gone. His face was fresher, lighter. The stubble he had allowed to come in was shaved. It made him seem younger.

“I am happy to see you could make it over. Is your mother…?” Hermione peered around Draco to the doorway.

“She visits Father on nights like these. Likes to be alone.” Hermione nodded, understanding. They stood there together awkwardly, neither of them really knowing what to say. Normally Hermione’s hostess duties would kick in but she found herself staying still.

“Oh! Draco.” Ron had come over from the kitchen, his pots still boiling away behind him. Several knives were still dicing vegetables and roots on their own on the counter.

“Thank you for having me.” Draco said, extending a hand. Ron stared at it and wiped off his messy hands.

“Of course, mate. You helped Hermione, didn’t ya? In my book that makes you very welcome.” Ron shook his hand firmly. “Oh, and while you’re here could you take a look at one of these pots—it belonged to my great-grandmother and I swear it’s cursed, every time I’ve tried to steam something it…” Ron dragged Draco into the kitchen, his voice trailing away amongst all the other voices in the house. Hermione heard a lot of commotion outside so she walked to the back door to find most of the kids gathered around Teddy Lupin.

“Show us!” “Pleassseee!” “Ooh! Can we see?” Several voices were shouting at once. Teddy waved his arms to silence them all.

“Alright, alright. I’ll show you! It's not that impressive anyway. It’s only one of the most advanced charm spells a witch or wizard can produce in their schooling years...” Teddy was quite the showman. Hermione stood in the doorway, watching the scene. Teddy gestured for some space from his audience. He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes and shouted “Expectoooo Patronum!”, his wand pointing directly up in the darkening sky. Out from the tip of his wand shot out a glowing wolf that immediately began circling the kids, who had erupted in cheers. Hermione was delighted to see how successful Harry had been in helping to raise Teddy so that he had so many happy memories to use. And clearly the strength of his parents memories influenced his patronus still. The wolf ran laps around the kids and then began to mime a howl. The young students all began talking about what they thought their patronuses would be, what their parents patronuses were, how cool it would be if they had a wolf.

“Father! Father!” Scorpius ran up to Draco who had approached the group from the front yard. “What is your patronus?” Draco stiffened up.

“Oh. I uh, didn’t get to that part in school. Never had to use one.” Draco noticed Hermione standing in the doorway.

“You can do it though! You’re the smartest wizard I know! If you can solve curses and puzzles you can cast a charm!” Scorpius began to drag his father over to the children. “Try it, please! Mostly everyone else knows what their parents’ are…” The children began to egg Draco on, encouraging him with many voices at once.

“Just think of something happy!” “The happiest thought you have!” “Focus on something good!” “You can do it Mr. Malfoy.” “I bet it will be a snake.” He looked over again to Hermione who smiled and nodded in support.

“I can give it a try.” He lowered his voice to Scorpius “But I make no guarantees.” Draco sighed and loosened himself up. He glanced at Hermione before shutting his eyes. “Expecto ...Patronum” he said slowly. All the faces looked up to see what would shoot out of his wand, but a very slow weak light came out. It looked like it was trying to form into a corporeal patronus but suddenly retreated back into his wand. Scorpius meekly shifted over to his dad’s side. The younglings began to encourage him to try again but Draco didn’t seem to be too fond of the idea.

“It’s okay, Father. We can practice later when we get home.” Scorpius whispered. Draco nodded and patted his son’s head. The children were instantly distracted again when Teddy turned their attention to his hair which had become a sparkling silver to match his patronus. He led them all back towards the inside of the house, presumably to harass the cook. Scorpius stayed behind to stand with his father looking out into the rest of the yard. “This backyard isn’t very nice...” he whispered to Draco.

“It was once.” Hermione had approached them. “Would you like to help make it better again?” she asked Scorpius, whose face lit up. He looked up at his father, who nodded. Scorpius whipped out his wand.

“Well first, you need to get rid of that gnome. He is just going to dig up anything you grow.”

“There’s a gnome in the garden?” Hermione looked around, she had been so busy she didn’t notice.

“Yes, looks like he’s a big, fat one as well.” Scorpius said, gesturing towards a large hole in the ground.

“Well, please don’t hurt him. We don’t want harm to come to any creature.”

“I would never.” Scorpius stated, slightly offended, sweeping his wand across the rusted garden furniture.

“Can I help?” Hermione asked, smiling at Draco and nodding at Scorpius.

“Erm. Maybe you should just sit this one out.” Scorpius muttered before whispering “Maybe her thing is more the indoors…” Draco tried not to laugh as Scorpius got to work, Hermione nudged him jokingly.

“Sorry, he must be spending too much time with Mother.” They chuckled together.

“Hermione! Can you come here for a second?” Ron stood in the back door.

“Excuse me for a moment. Keep up the good work Scorpius!” She quickly walked over to him.

“What is it? Did you need help in the kitchen?” She followed him inside.

“Ah, no. I’ve compiled all of Mum’s recipes so we can get started putting something together.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Hermione smiled.

“But uh I just wanted to say that that Scorpius seems like a good bloke. I think I was...too quick to tell the kids to avoid him. Apparently he and Albus are already close.”

“Oh, I didn’t know. Well I’m happy to hear that. Never would have thought a Potter and Malfoy would be so close!” As she finished her sentence, she realized her and Ron probably had the same thought. ‘Never would have thought a Granger and a Malfoy would be either.’ But Ron did not seem to be upset. He reached past her and poured two glasses of Hermione’s favorite wine, which someone presumably had brought over as a gift. He raised his share up in a toast.

“To new beginnings.” He said.

“To new beginnings.” She said quietly as they clinked. They smiled lightly together in silence.

Ginny sipped her mead quite loudly from the other side of the table. Harry stifled a laugh from beside her.

"Time to eat yet, Chef?" Harry asked.

"Yeah alright! I hear you! It's not easy to cook for this many you know!"

"Dinner!" Ginny announced without consent, winking at Hermione.

"Some sister you are! You're going to help me then!" Ron chased after Ginny who disappeared around the corner, as many people flocked to the table.

Harry and Hermione laughed as Albus approached his father.

"Hey Dad, can I sit with Scorpius?"

"Of course you can." Harry pat his son's shoulder. Albus immediately ran outside and returned holding Scorpius' hand, dragging him to their chairs. Though Hermione noticed they were still secretly holding hands even once seated. Draco entered in from outside and paused to smile at Hermione. Yes, new beginnings, she thought.

Chapter Text

Dinner was chaotic but wonderful. Two large tables had been set up in the dining room and several tables had been set up outside. Everyone was spread out and mingled with people they haven’t seen all year. Everyone ate their fill and then some. Drinks were had, pranks were played, and the chatter was nonstop. Draco and Harry were having a conversation about cursed objects, Ron was telling his secret methods of getting the pie to rise just right to anyone that would listen, George sat at the kids table showing off his latest inventions--it was all perfect, Hermione thought. After dinner, some people retreated to their rooms, others made themselves comfortable by the fireplace or on the couch, Ron returned to the kitchen to cast a series of cleanup spells and to set out more desserts. Many of the children went out into the night to cast spells and fool around. Hermione helped clean up some of the dishes beside Ron before joining them again outside. Her garden had begun to look more like its former self—but Scorpius let her know it would take several weeks worth of work. Strings of light illuminated the backyard. Some of the children set off several whizzing christmas crackers while others chased each other around in the moonlight.

“How’s it going?” Harry casually asked as he walked up next to Hermione, who had been looking over her shoulder back at Ron.

“Great. Wonderful.” Hermione half-smiled, unconvincingly. Harry gave her a look. “You know, don’t you?” she groaned.

“He might’ve mentioned it. Asked for my advice.”

“And...What do you think?”

“I think he wants you to be happy.” Hermione nodded. “I think in his heart he knows how you feel. And I think you do too.” Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“Again Teddy, please!” The children began to circle around the older boy again. Some of the adults joined in this time too. Harry and Hermione began to walk towards the group.

“What’s this then?” Harry asked playfully.

“Kids wanna see my patronus again...” Teddy said, shrugging.

“Oooh! Uncle Harry can do it too!” “Dad, please!” “Oh! All the parents should!” The children began to clamor with pleads to see a whole show of patronuses. By now most everyone had joined the crowd.

“Let’s give them a show!” Teddy exclaimed, twirling his wand in his hand. The adults looked around at each other and their children but all together seemed to decide, why not—it was the holidays after all. They raised their wands in the air and all at once began to cast a series of amazing shimmering creatures that danced, jumped, and flowed around the group. The children cheered and chased around the animals. Hermione had even joined in, her otter gently sliding around her children. Ron’s dog was barking and chasing its tail, she laughed as she watched it leap away. She beamed at him and the pair laughed together for the first time in ages. It was a wondrous sight. Then she noticed Draco looking up at the dazzling creatures but not participating. She walked over to him.

“Give it another go, Draco.” She encouraged. He pulled out his wand and nodded. He seemed to strain his face as he tried to focus.

“Expecto patronum...” he said quietly, and Hermione followed suit. While her patronus easily appeared, his wand was only lit at the tip.

“I know you can do it…” There was a pause before Hermione set her hand on his arm in support and suddenly a blinding light blasted from his wand. Hermione took a step back in surprise. His patronus began to form and everyone had stopped to stand in awe of how bright it was. Some of the other adults' patronuses fizzled out as they lost their concentration. Hermione watched with confusion as suddenly she was looking at not one otter, but two. Their otters began to swim in the air around each other, looping around playfully, in what appeared to be a graceful dance. She looked over at Draco, surprised. He looked horrified. He immediately retracted his wand and shoved it into his pocket.

“Wow. He’s got an otter too.” “How cute!” “Look! They’re friends.” “ I thought for sure it would be a snake...” The children continued to blather on unphased, but most of the adults had stood silently, staring at Draco.

He cleared his throat. “It’s getting late. Thank you very much... for having us. Scorpius...” Scorpius said quick goodbyes and immediately ran to his father’s side. The pair quickly strode off to the front yard. Hermione looked around at everyone’s faces. When she finally found Ron’s he had his eyebrows raised, though he didn’t look all that surprised.

“My money was on the snake too.” He finally said which broke most of the remaining awkward silence, and everyone returned to their interactions. Hermione began to back away from everyone towards the house. Ginny appeared beside her.

“That was interesting, wasn’t it?” Ginny breathed. Hermione didn’t answer. “So you’re just going to let him leave?” Hermione looked up at Ginny, then back where Draco had just left. She took a breath and then chased after them. She reached the front yard but they had already apparated away. She walked back into the house, drained and ready to give up but then saw Scorpius’ scarf left on the couch. She picked it up and then ran back outside before apparating after them.

The Malfoy Manor looked worlds different than the last time she had been outside its gates. The yards had been restored to magnificent lawns, there were waterfalls and ponds and so many different plants, flowers, pathways. Truly Scorpius was a gardening prodigy. She would have to let Neville know to keep an eye out for him at school. He and Luna were working together on a classification project abroad over the holiday—experts couldn’t determine whether the newly found organism was more plant or animal, their respective fields. She made her way through the gardens, realizing she would have to come back and appreciate this all during the day. She approached the front door with hesitance. But it opened before she had a chance to knock.

“Hello again.” Scorpius was still in a good mood.

“Oh, hello. I um... you left your scarf.” She handed it over to him.

“Did you want to come in? Grandmother would like to see you. She’s been asking about you lately.”

“Oh, I don't know. I—”

“Stop being so polite and get in here before you let in a draft and I catch a chill!” Narcissa called from inside. Scorpius smirked and opened the door wider for her to enter.

“Happy Christmas, Mrs. Malfoy. Did you get the gift I sent you?” Hermione asked.

“Yes. Thank you.” Narcissa smiled, shifting happily under her new black and green blanket. “And a Happy Christmas to you as well. You haven’t called for quite some time” She noted.

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry about that.” Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

“I’ve missed having someone sensible to talk to. Make it a habit to call on me more often.” She waved Hermione away.

“...My father is upstairs. If you wanted to see him.” Scorpius whispered.

“Oh, yes well. I just wanted to let him know that you are all welcome anytime. I’d love for you to help me out more in my garden. The work you’ve done outside is incredible.”

“Scorpius, be a dear and refill my tea.” Narcissa called from over on the couch, cup raised in the air. Scorpius nodded and headed to the kitchen. “What are you doing down here still?” She turned around to Hermione.

“What?—”

“Go. He seemed like he needed someone to talk to. And I’m certainly not that person.” Hermione understood and went upstairs. She knocked lightly on Draco’s door. The last time she had entered this room, he was lying unconscious, but this time was almost more nerve wracking, she thought. No one answered. Perhaps he wanted to be left alone. She knocked a little more loudly. Still no answer. She sighed and gently turned the doorknob, hoping he wouldn’t mind the intrusion. She glanced around the room but didn’t see him. His dresser was covered with artifacts and boxes, and he had added new desks and shelves to accommodate all of his work. She saw him in the corner of his eye, his head in the pensieve pool. She gently approached him and touched his arm. She didn’t want to just rip him out of his thoughts, so instead she slowly went in after him.

She landed a little ways right behind current Draco, who was watching himself and Ron speaking earlier in the kitchen.

“Hmm, well if you’re willing to let me examine it back at my place, I will definitely be able to give you a better idea if it's actually cursed…”

“Or if she was just a terrible cook?” Ron joked. Past Draco smirked uncomfortably. “Listen, if Hermione trusts you then... so do I. Every single person in this house cares for her. Some of the most powerful magical folk are on her side. Keep that in mind.” Draco matched his gaze before nodding. “Take the pot. And...take care of her.”

“I will.” Draco answered quietly but firmly. He set down a bottle of wine he had brought over on the counter.

The memory shifted and she saw Current Draco looking over the scene that had unfolded only a few moments before. The patronuses were swirling all around the backyard. Her past hand touched his arm just as it had before and his patronus shot out again. Current Draco rubbed his forehead and sighed, he was clearly in pain and discomfort.

“Draco?” she called. He whipped around and the memory began to ripple. He had tears in his eyes.

“What—what are you doing here?” The memory began to warp and come apart, they both shot up out of the pensieve pool back in his room.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt—I just wanted to make sure you were alright, you left so quickly—”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know, I’m sorry— I realize I am severely intruding-”

“No. This isn’t right. What happened back there isn’t right. We should’ve—I should’ve. I—I don't— I never wanted to complicate your life.”

“You aren’t complicating my life, Draco. You’re my friend.” She approached him but he backed away.

“I—I don't think our friendship is such a good idea anymore.”

“Why?”

“This is all a mess—You should go...” He moved past her out of the room.

“Draco, wait a minute, please—”

He quickly began to descend the stairs. She followed but by the time she reached him he was standing by the open front door, clearly providing her an exit.

“Thank you for stopping by and thank you again for having us for dinner, it was wonderful. Enjoy the rest of your holiday.” He couldn’t even bear to look at her anymore, so instead he stared forward outside into the darkness.

“Please Draco. I can’t lose you too.” She whispered. “Ron and I… we aren’t going to make it. And to tell you the truth—I don't know how that will work out. So, I really—I really don't want to lose another friend.” Her voice cracked as she finished.

His face was strained but he pretended to be unphased by what she had said. She gave him one last pleading look before frustratedly pushing forward out into the gardens. He gently shut the door behind her.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy...” He winced at the use of his full name.

“Yes, Mother?” He walked towards her on the couch.

“For many years I ensured that this family does not look foolish— so don't go starting now.” She turned around on the lounge chair and stared him down. He backed up into the door and felt the handle. He took a sharp breath and then quickly wrenched open the door and ran after Hermione.

“Wait. Hermione, wait!” He jogged behind her until he finally caught up to her.

“Draco—I—” He quickly held her face and kissed her before she could say another word. How much time had passed? Seconds? Minutes? His hands were still tenderly holding her reddening cheeks. They were both standing there for what felt like an eternity, in silence afterwards. He lowered his hands and the crickets sang them a song as they mulled over what had just happened. The moon was full and shone down on the flowers around them so that they glowed in an eerie, mystical way.

“I care about you. Very much...” Draco finally said, though very quietly. He cleared his throat. “I think I always have.” He gently took her hands in his. “I shouldn’t have run away. And I know I shouldn’t push you away. Those are things the old Draco would do and I am not that person anymore. I don’t want to hide in the shadows, and I don't want to run away from my fears. And I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Those are all things you don’t want, but what is it that you do want?” She asked hopefully. Scanning his face, his expressions. He did the same to her. Afraid of how she might react. But she hadn’t run away yet, Draco thought. He took in a deep breath and looked back at the ground.

“I want... you to visit here.” He gestured to the whole garden. “I want to spend time with you. I want you in my life.” He took a step in closer, taking their hands close to his chest. “You’ve made me a better person. Even when you weren’t trying to. Just by being who you are. And I am happier when I’m with you. For so long my life was shrouded in darkness. I was so alone. So afraid and confused, and absolutely miserable. I have never in my life been able to produce a patronus, until tonight. Until you.” He looked back up at her. Tears sparkled on the ends of her lashes. She really did look beautiful, he thought. After all these years she was still so incredibly pretty. And beyond that she had always been so kind, so compassionate. Things he admired, things he wished he was. Even though the fear set in that she may not return his feelings, he stood his ground. Draco gently rubbed her hands as he watched her bright brown eyes nervously bounce around his face as they did when she was trying to calculate or analyze something.

“I think I want that too.” Draco smiled and she did too, blushing further. He pulled her in for a deep hug and they stood there embracing. From inside the manor, Narcissa Malfoy could be seen with her face peering out of the window. Scorpius was jumping up and down beside her.

“Let me see! Let me seeee!” Narcissa hushed him and quickly shut the curtain with a smile.

Chapter Text

The morning was bright and clear as Hermione peered out of the Burrow window. She smiled as the sun peered through the swift moving clouds down onto her garden. Over the months Scorpius had really done a magnificent job, she thought. Now there were even saplings growing. Ron had loved the idea of having a proper herb garden. And a fruit garden. And a vegetable one. Scorpius really had his work cut out for him. The children were home for the summer but lately they’ve been spending most of their time at the Potter’s place, which had most of the quidditch equipment. She set down her cup of tea and turned back to Ron who was adjusting his tie in the mirror.

“Are you just about ready?” She asked.

“Yeah. I’m so nervous, Hermione. Thanks for agreeing to come with me. I know you had other plans today, they changed it last minute-” He picked up his jacket from the back of a kitchen chair.

“Don’t be silly, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She smiled, fixing his tie properly.

They made their way over to Diagon alley, and as they walked together down the cobblestones they found themselves smiling, remembering all the years they came here together. Ron let out a nervous exhale.

“It’s going to be great, Ron. You did a fantastic job. I’m so proud of you.” She tucked his arm into hers.

“Thank you again for all the work you did on the editing. I think that’s why the publishers reconsidered...” Hermione smiled and rubbed his arm. They were startled by a large crowd blocking their way to Flourish and Blotts. They separated to try and squeeze through towards the bookstore up ahead. Once they reached the other side of the crowd they realized they had passed the store.

“Are all these people here for…” Ron took in the crowd, they were all bustled right up in front of the shop. In every window his book was propped up, and outside the doorway they were displayed on a series of stands. Hermione hadn’t seen the cover yet. Ron was sitting on a couch by a rippling fireplace, holding up a hand-knitted sweater with a giant gold “R” on it and then another with a silver “H”, presumably for Rose and Hugo. In front of him sat a series of different desserts, and a muggle telephone. His image smiled and then picked up the telephone while a scarf knitted itself. The golden title above read “From Muggles to Magic: How to Keep a Happy Home”.

“There he is!” “That’s him isn’t it!” “Are you starting the signings out here?” The crowd began to notice his presence. He had come here today for the book’s official release and signing. The pre-release must’ve gotten great reviews, so much so that the news spread quickly. Hermione smiled up at Ron and squeezed his arm in excitement.

“I think you can take it from here...” She whispered.

“Right.” He nodded and broke out into a huge smile. “Wish me luck!” He winked and then pressed forward into the crowd, greeting them all and thanking them for their praise. He made his way inside and many people shuffled in after him.

Hermione continued to smile as she watched the happy homemakers excitedly form a line into the shop. For years he lived in the shadows of his siblings and Harry, and even in Hermione’s with her success at work. She was happy to see him finally making a name for himself. She crossed her arms and happily sighed, slowly making her way back through the crowd. She thought about how proud her children would be of their dad. They had already begun to form such better relationships with him, especially now that he’s become a larger part of their lives as a homemaker. Even though they had separated officially a few weeks after Christmas, her children seemed happier. Because their parents were now. She looked down at her muggle wristwatch.

“Oh! I’m late!” She started jogging. She arrived, exactly two minutes late, to Malfoy Manor. She quickly made her way through Scorpius’ garden to the front door, which, she noticed, had been re-painted a deep green. Scorpius immediately answered the door.

“You’re lateeeee...” he whispered playfully. She smiled at him and handed him a package.

“For you, Master of Garden Wizardry.”

“What is it?” Scorpius shook it gently.

“You’ll have to open it.” She teased. Scorpius ran inside to go sit on an armchair and open it up, Hermione followed in after him.

“You’re late.” Narcissa stated. She was sitting on the edge of the couch, using her cane to keep her upright.

“Sorry, Ron’s official book launch was today.” Hermione called as she made her way into the kitchen.

“Hmph. So I heard.” Hermione returned with a tray full of teas and sweets. She then noticed Narcissa had a copy of Ron’s book tucked next to her on the couch. Hermione hid a smile.

“Oh, wow! Thank you, Hermione!” Scorpius had opened his gift—it was a book on advanced Herbology.

“I know you’re just coming out of your first year, but really you’re performing at closer to a fifth year level when it comes to plants and herbology spells.”

“What’s this?” Scorpus lifted some papers that came with it.

“Oh, yes. I also spoke to Professor Longbottom. He said if you fill out that paperwork, and if your father signs off on it, you can test out of the class and instead move up a few. That way you don’t have to learn things you’re already familiar with and—” Scorpius quickly ran up and hugged Hermione tightly. Narcissa smiled sweetly.

“Isn’t your daughter also into the herbal arts?” Narcissa inquired.

“Oh, well initially we thought she might be. Her namesake and all. But now she’s convinced she’s found her calling in Divination. Ron swears some great-great-great relative on his mother’s side could predict things. Perhaps she has the gift. Hugo on the other hand only wants to hear about your son’s work.” Hermione used her wand to lift the tray off the coffee table. “Shall we?” She went over to Narcissa and helped her up. Arm-in-arm they made their way into the garden out to a small table with chairs. Hermione set up their little tea party and helped Narcissa sit down. Scorpius came skidding out of the house.

Even though he was out of breath, Scorpius bowed and began the party. “Today, ladies, we have three different kinds of teas to try. All grown right here in this garden just over there.” He gestured to a patch nearby.

“I won’t swell up will I?” Narcissa eyed the teapot as Hermione poured her a cup.

“That was only once...” He whispered harshly, perhaps embarrassed Hermione might hear. Narcissa shot him a look that said ‘don’t speak to me that way’. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. I promise.” Hermione stifled a giggle. As Scorpius continued to explain the different roots and leaves used today, Hermione looked up at the Manor towering above them.

“And where’s Draco at today?” She asked them, trying to be casual. The two Malfoys stopped what they were doing and looked at each other.

“He’s a busy man, Ms. Granger. Always has work to do. Shouldn’t be disturbed I expect.” Narcissa muttered. Scorpius bit his lip as though he wanted to say more but would be reprimanded if he did. They spent the entire afternoon together enjoying Scorpius’ luckily harmless, and quite tasty, teas all while listening to Narcissa’s stories. After a few hours, Hermione grew concerned again about Draco. He normally came down to greet her, even if he was working, whenever she stopped by for tea. Things had been going well, she thought. She tried to think back to their last conversation—had she said something to upset him?

“I’ll probably be heading off soon.” Hermione warned Scorpius, whose face was deep into the book she had given him.

“Already? You only just got here...” he whined.

“I tell you what. Why don’t you come over next week? You can stay with Rose and Hugo at the Burrow, it should be a lot of fun.”

“Will Albus be there?” Scorpius lit up.

“Yes, the Potter cousins will be there too.” Scorpius then looked over at his grandmother with a worried expression.

“I’ve got your father, Scorpius. I do just fine on my own anyway. You’re at school most of the time, remember? A few days won’t kill me.” Narcissa patted his head. “Doesn’t mean I won’t miss you though.” She whispered to him.

“Sounds like a plan then. I’ll give Ron a call later and let him know. Narcissa, it was a pleasure as always. Tell Draco... I say hello.” Hermione began to gather her things and make her way out of the garden.

“Of course. Take care!”

“Bye, Hermione! See you next week! Thanks again for the book!” Scorpius called as he ran over to his grandmother to help her inside before it got too dark.

Hermione waved at them both and took off. She apparated to her current homestead. When the kids were home at the Burrow she spent time there, but ultimately it would be strange to sleep consistently in the same house as Ron, even though they are on good terms. Plus with Ron’s work the house has been bustling with his projects and recipes and guests. Draco had graciously offered her the now empty cottage, which ironically he had used when he separated from his wife. The last few months she wasn’t really sure where they stood. She visited the Manor often, and spent a lot of time with all of the Malfoys. At night after work he would come and check in on her at the cottage and they’d spend long nights talking and laughing just as they had when she was working on her case. He would bring Scorpius by once in a while to spruce up any wilting part of the meadow outside. Perhaps he was giving her space after separating with Ron, out of respect. Perhaps he had regretted kissing her that night, perhaps he only cared for her as a friend. The last time they had spoken she had tried to bring it up, but she only ended up saying how it ‘would’ve been nice for them to have had each other's company sooner’. All those lonely days in school for the two of them. As she walked up to her front door she saw a note. It read:

She gently lifted the note, recognizing Draco’s handwriting. She took it off the front door and went inside. She checked her watch again and saw that it was already past seven. She peered around the cottage’s rooms, wondering if he was still around. Had he wanted her to go back to the Manor? Why didn’t he just come down and tell her this? She walked into her room—which had been Draco’s previously. As she went to set her bag on the bed she noticed there was a long box on the edge. She looked around and then gently lifted the lid. Inside was tissue paper, which she shifted aside. Underneath was a beautiful silvery silk gown. It looked very expensive, in fact it was probably worth more than her entire wardrobe, she thought. A very nice gift, indeed, but she would never have an event fancy enough to wear it. She lifted it slowly out of the box, looking it over. It was definitely her size, she thought, and she recalled Narcissa asking suspicious questions just two weeks prior. The straps crossed each other on the back, encrusted with tiny, sparkling gems, she blushed as it was a little different than her usual modest taste. She raised her eyebrows and set it back down. Hermione then noticed her closet doors weren’t as she left them. She tugged them open to find that the cabinet had been returned.

“The Pensieve...” she whispered. She backed away and looked at her watch again. She could only guess what he wanted, so she changed into the dress and at her vanity began to touch up her makeup. She only had enough time to put her hair up before she had to go. She took a deep breath and looked at herself standing in the mirror. She hadn’t felt butterflies like this in years. She took another breath and walked over to the pensieve cabinet. A memory was already swirling inside. She checked her watch one last time before taking it off and setting it on the bed behind her. She took a deep breath as though it was her last and then entered in.

She faded in a memory that was all at once familiar. She had been here before, not too many months ago. She was in the Hogwarts castle, her younger self had just walked into the Yule Ball. Younger Draco and Pansy were arguing down the hall below her. She was watching above them all on the stone staircase. She heard the music start up in the other room for the first dance. And there he was. Current day Draco appeared at the bottom of the stairs, dressed up in an all black suit, smiling. He held up a hand quietly as if to say hello. His eyes widened as he took the sight of her in, his face in awe. He extended a hand out, inviting her down. She took the railing and couldn’t help but smile and suppress giggling as she descended, shaking her head. At the bottom she took his hand and the giddiness became contagious.

“You look amazing.” He leaned in to tell her. “Shall we?” She nodded and he led her into the ballroom where they joined all the memory students in a dance around the ball.

“Is this what you were working on today?” Hermione looked around at all her old schoolmates. He nodded.

“The other day when you said you wished we knew each other sooner—I thought we could go back and make some not-so-good memories, into...better ones.”

“I don’t know what to say.” She looked up at him as the music changed to a slower song. “Thank you, for all of this.” He nodded again. “I did miss you today though.” She admitted quietly.

“Did you?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Well, yes. I uh, wanted to tell you the news—Neville has agreed to give Scorpius the chance to move into a more advanced level Herbology…”

“He’d love that.” Draco held Hermione even closer, appreciating how much she had cared for his son in ways that Scorpius’ mother never did. “I was also thinking. There’s only so many old memories we can go back to. I figured we could also start to make new ones...” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope. The two stopped dancing and went to go sit at one of the empty event tables.

“What’s this?” Hermione asked, looking at Draco then back to the envelope.

“I thought, if you wanted to, you and I could do some traveling.” Hermione pulled out tickets and reservations from the envelope. “I know you’ve always wanted to see other wizarding communities across the world, there’s so many libraries to see, art, museums...and for me there’s cursed objects I would love to take a look at ...and we’re both at points in our lives where we have flexibility in work, I figure it can be once the kids start their next school session—” Hermione quickly set the envelope aside and kissed him.

“I would love that.” She squeezed his hand, beaming up at him. He had been caught off guard, but once he regained himself he took her hand up to his face and kissed it. The memory began to fade. He and Hermione stood up.

“This is it.” He said softly. They were back in the cottage, except it was covered in artifacts and boxes. It was the first day of the investigation. The pair watched the previous versions of themselves. Past Hermione was backing up into the garden.

“Oh god I looked terrible...” Hermione whispered, Draco shushed her.

“Am I, uh, can I apparate from here?” They heard her say from outside. Past Draco was in the doorway, leaning against the frame and nodded. “Right, great. Thanks.” Past Draco raised up one hand as if to say goodbye and she nodded weakly before he slunk away into his home, shutting the door. Past Hermione stared at the shut door for a few moments before shaking her head and apparating away. Past Draco had secretly watched her longingly through the window at the time. He flusteredly shut the curtain and started to pace around the house, trying to clean up the table but finding himself too excitable to do anything constructive. He sat down and placed his hand in front of his mouth, which was unsuccessful as concealing the spreading grin across his face.

Current-day Hermione looked at Draco, puzzled at why he was showing her this.

“This is the moment that I realized I was in love with you. Seeing you out there in the meadow—”

“Looking frustrated and exhausted—”

“I realized I didn’t want you to leave. I don’t often feel that way about people.” Hermione blushed and nodded.

They pulled themselves out of the pensieve.

“I love you, too.” She whispered, meeting his gaze. His face was flushed and he was beaming. She had hardly seen so much emotion, or color, in his face. I bet a trip or two will change that, she thought.

Chapter Text

“Harry! We’ve got a postcard!” Ginny called from down in their kitchen. It was early in the morning, so she was still in her fuzzy robe (which, thanks to Ron, had an embroidered snitch on the back). Harry came striding in still wearing his pajamas.

“Hang on a sec—let me grab my glasses...” Harry yawned. He shuffled over and wrapped his arms around her, peering at the letter from over her shoulder. Together they looked over the mail they had gotten. The postcard read :

Ginny turned the card over. On the front was a moving picture of Draco and Hermione sat beside a graying Viktor Krum, holding up their glasses and laughing in what looked like a quaint pub.

“Aw, I want to go! Ginny take me places pleaseeee!” Harry teased and hugged her more tightly. She smiled knowing that her sister was happy.

In the Great Hall at Hogwarts, the students were clamoring about as breakfast was being served. Above them hundreds of owls (and a few odd birds) swooped down to drop off their mail. Scorpius caught the letter that came whizzing down from above.

“It’s a postcard from my father!” He nudged Albus to get his attention. The photo on the front had Hermione and Draco hesitantly pointing to a very, very odd looking plant. They both took a step away when it appeared to begin leaking blue liquid.

“What on earth is that?” Albus laughed, his hand on Scorpius’ shoulder.

“I can’t wait to find out!” Pointing to the back which said they would be bringing home plenty of souvenirs for him. Scorpius blushed as he tucked it away into his pocket and the two went back to their breakfast with smiles.

A few tables away, Gryffindors Rose and Hugo also received a postcard. “Look! Mum found me some ancient tarot cards from Spain!” Rose showed her brother the card, who snatched it from her.

“Ooh! I hope Draco finds me something cursed. Before they left he was telling me about this vase in Egypt that…”

At the Burrow, Ron had gotten off the phone with a business call when three small owlets (wearing assorted spotted hand-made sweater vests) peered in through the open kitchen window.

“What’s that you’ve got for me today, eh?” The birds one by one gently set down his mail in a little tray Ron had made them. Ron filed through the usual letters, fan-mail, and bills and then found the postcard. Hermione and Draco stood somewhere in Asia, in a wizarding shopping district surrounded by what appeared to be many, many happy Ron Weasley fans. They were all holding up his book and posing with their crafted sweaters, jumping around excitedly. Hermione was giving two thumbs up and laughing, Draco smirked and half-heartedly raised one thumb, clearly uncomfortable with the crowd. Ron chuckled at the sight. Maybe once his book tour was over he would get to take another trip to visit his brother Charlie, he thought. He grabbed a magnet and stuck the postcard on his fridge, smiling.

At Malfoy Manor, Narcissa was sitting out in the garden, accompanied by Luna Lovegood, who had graciously agreed to check in on the old woman now that she had returned from her expedition. Hermione had asked Narcissa if Crookshanks II could stay at the manse while she and Draco were away. At first Narcissa was stubborn and resistant to look after the creature, but in reality she had grown quite attached to him. The cat was currently sitting happily in her lap, soaking up the sunshine as she stroked his back. Luna took another sip of tea.

“Ooh. I think there’s an owl coming.” She set her cup down and dreamily looked up to the sky. “If you’re really quiet you can hear their wings flapping.”

Narcissa and Old Crookie gave each other a skeptical look. But sure enough just a moment later a dark owl landed on the empty chair between them and deposited a postcard lightly in front of Mrs. Malfoy.

“Oh! Look it must be them...” The old woman smiled and turned it towards Luna so that she could look on as well. The image this time was a close-up of the two of them smiling and laughing, Hermione with happy tears in her eyes. Narcissa wiped a tear away.

“What is it? Is everything alright?” Luna put her hand on the weeping woman’s shoulder.

Mrs. Malfoy smiled and nodded, pointing to Hermione’s hand in the picture. On her finger was Narcissa’s old wedding ring.